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scarlettmurphy · 2 months

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STARCROSSED PT2 +ੈ✩‧₊˚ LOGAN HOWLETT.

logan and y/n — where you are completely in love with a man older then you’re father by a good century or so.. whose completely in love with another.

- content warning age gap (is legal) drinking. explicit. swearing. dirty humour. comfort (an ounce). drugs. nsfw. sick. body issues. sh. angst.. maybe happy endings?! pairings: older!logan howlett x xaiver!reader. logan howlett x jean grey.

spoiler: insane yearning and angst i’m sorry im too far gone ☹️ happy ? where.

note this is part two to starcrossed, prepare for even heavier angst!🫶🏻 i didn’t realise how sad this was until i finished the chapter and realised holy shit this is long. part three is already in the works. i hope u enjoy it! make sure to read pt1. it’s a bit diff from the first one but i hope u like it still. also if you’ve seen the movie ten things i hate about u the mid bit of this might remind u of that one scene if u get me :) song: need you now by lady a cos i was listening to it and jeff buckley whilst reading this? also on the timeline im going for like xmen 2 time i think?

tags — @faceache111 @malfoys-demigod @navs-bhat @dilfismz @thisbipuff-isaswiftie @twinky-wink @thewiselionessss @thecraziestcrayon @awhoreforalotofshows @emily-b @jae48 @cxptainbuck @444st4rg1rl 🫶🏻

[i hope you like it!!]

you’d absolutely love to believe that what you heard last night wasn’t what happened but as your mind goes over the previous night as you fought yourself to stay awake during your fathers little class your brain couldn’t forget the continuous moans and little yells that you heard from a few rooms across from your own at the mansion for a good hour or two last night. you can’t help but figure out that logan most certainly found jean and just thinking about it made you feel sick. scott being the main thing on your brain after you got over the fact logan most definitely fucked jean last night.

she was a cheater. what else could you expect? your thoughts swirling in your brain causing an indescribable amount of heart ache as you kept yourself completely quiet and withdrawn from whatever was going on in this lesson, rogue clearly being able to tell you were off as she glanced at bobby giving him a look you picked up on — him shrugging his shoulders in return as you cursed your sadness for being so obvious.

just the thought of jean and logan staring at eachother hurt you but her touching him, his hands over her skin, her lips on his, his mind only on her in that moment and his gaze locked into hers as she let him take her yet again enraged you to another level it was a struggle not to jump into his mind and find out exactly what happened but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t. your brain fighting with your heart in every way as you felt sick with all those pictures of the scenario you were forming for yourself.

so from that knowledge as you sat in class you knew you needed to stop liking him for good. he didn’t like you, he was throwing it in your face. you heard it all and it hurt you too much to bare. you didn’t even wanna look at him — that single thought of contact sending you crazy. you couldn’t even bring yourself to see him today. you didn’t want too, you couldn’t. seeing jean as you passed through the kitchen earlier was enough to make you nearly cry and immediately stop that tiny breakfast you had made.

you really couldn’t deal with this. one bit. you never did well with emotional pain — physical was something you could endure, yet emotional was always something you couldn’t stomach ever since you were a little girl.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd been avoiding him like the plague. literally. whenever you saw him at the end of the halls you'd turn the other away, force a little smile and act like you had somewhere to go if you were in conversation and it had been like that for two weeks. two weeks had passed since one of your normal conversations, the friendly chats you admired in your brain and made out to be more, the little touches he'd give you that you couldn't comprehend was only a friend thing to do, the way he'd hug you.. the deep conversations, the way he'd sometimes kiss your forehead before you left for bed, watching the rain together and just joking together all something you had put in the past. that had been gone for two weeks and to say it was breaking you would be an understatement.

you could tell others has noticed the practical borderline dissociation within you since you had been a little mute recently not that it was specially due to logan (it completely all was) but you didn't want it to be obvious, you hated that it could be perceived that way so you knew you had to do something about it. who knew heartache for one that didn't love you back could destroy you this badly from the inside out?

.. and today was no different on the logan front. you saw him once today in the halls ushering something to hank — the two in bustling conversation and you made sure not to risk it by going to class, to upset over it all to deal with another short horrible conversation where you were nothing but cold to him as you tried to cut down any romantic feelings you had for him. every time you spoke now you could see the confusion and frustration in his eyes, the mental image to much to bare as you went on hiding in your room and pondering and that’s where you had been since — buried in clothing choices as you tried to stomach down the anxiety that had been growing in you over the fact it was jeans birthday party today and you would have to make an appearance after you had been a hermit since you’d got your heart broken by a guy that didn’t even know. rogue and bobby being the only two people you had really spoke too since the shut down yet their concern had been growing annoying as rogue clearly told bobby about the little crush she could’ve guessed, and got out of you when the two of you were high together a few months ago, you had on logan. bobby actually giving you little options of guys you could date to get over someone which was all you needed to hear when you realised rogue had told him as he literally mentioned hank who they knew you recently hiked with since he had been bothering you over your melancholy, yet you had left before it was a full fledge little argument.

just the thought of having to socialise with him and the others and step out of the hole you’d built for yourself to hide in irritated you especially for jean of all people’s party, your ‘smidge’ of hatred for the woman who had really been rude to you since she’d known you not because of logan, because god on that front she wins and it feels like she’s married to him despite her ties to scott, but on the power front. she knew you had powers incomparable to hers that you hardly even showcased magneto being someone who taught you many things when you were younger, your own parents being raven and charles. of course you had powers which were indescribable.

and most of the time you wanted to use it on that bitch. you were lucky she couldn’t get into your twisted mind to find that fact out.

you let out a little sigh as you decided on the black mini skirt and sweater — you finally having an excuse for the fall outfit and lack of dress because it was october which has always been your favourite season and best time of year yet this year that didn’t apply because you haven’t been hardly able to enjoy it because of isolation you’d forced yourself into.

y/n had to swallow her own self pity down as she leaned over to her perfume bottle on the drawer next to her mirror as she took in the image of her body in the skirt. her shrinking body, a scoff leaving her lips as she wasn’t happy with what she saw in the reflection. she never could be. the aroma of the perfume not masking her feelings at all as she put on some dc martens paired with black tights. the perfect little outfit yet she was sure jean would be outshining her on that front. god she didn’t even wanna imagine logan’s eyes being locked onto jean tonight, the heart ache already unbearable to comprehend as she swallowed a lump that formed in her throat. that aching feeling hadn’t gone away since the start of knowing logan the way she did, maybe that was a sign from the people above about how destined it was.. or how not it was.

these muddled thoughts led her too some early drinking as if she wouldn’t be getting shitfaced later. pregaming alone which is a bit self pity full as she swallowed the burning liquor down her throat, the whiskey hitting her softly and slowly enough to give her the confidence to leave her room twenty minutes later for this party.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

the decorations were perfect, the present corner was overflowing and the students and people were everywhere. jean being clearly the popular girl from the looks of this party, as if y/n already didn’t know that, as the blasting music just made her more aware of the scenario she was in as she fought the urge to look around the room for logan as she went straight over to the bar that had been made. the party was the perfect one a girl, woman, could ask for and y/n could feel the jealously bubbling already that she bit down as she forced a friendly smile to join her lips.

walking through the dancing groups of people, there hardly even being any spaces to walk unless you wanted to bump into a coked up or insanely drunk teenager or wade. who she was lucky to get past without having to talk to yet, no matter how much she did like and enjoy his company she couldn’t deal with his jokes right now which she could guess who’d they’d be centered around, she knew he knew to some extent she was just lucky he hadn’t out rightly said it. that would be too much pity for her to deal with, that coming from wade being another level of pathetic.

the second she leant against the bar she managed to grab the busy barmaids attention giving her a soft nod and polite smile as she didn’t notice the figure beside her as she asked for a coke and vodka.

“thank god you’re showing your face — i thought i was going to have to clone you to get a good conversation.” hank rolled out his tipsiness showing as he pulled y/n into a tight hug when he was sat down on the stool. y/n letting out a low chuckle as she hugged him back nicely, his presence being a little surprise she tried not to seem so bothered about.

“hiya hank.” y/n said softly as the barmaid came over with her drink, placing it next to her. “thanks.” y/n nodded out as hank placed his hand on the stool next to him as she immediately grabbed it and took a swig.

“come! sit.” he ushered in with a drunken smile on his face, a bright one as usual, as he patted the bar stool next to him inviting her to sit and before y/n could even speak up in reply as she slid down on the stool hank bit in.

“where the hell have you been?” he abruptly said bluntly, putting a little look on his face off one that’s pissed off as y/n felt the guilt rush through her as she wrapped her fingers around the glass drowning her truth in the drink as she took a big sip off the liquor acting as if that didn’t taste appalling as she shrugged her shoulders at hanks obvious question which has an obvious answer to that she’d play off as a stupid claim if questioned about it.

“—i’ve been busy! controlling powers— small missions, and that.” y/n lied out.

hank furrowed his eyebrows at his words, giving her a knowing look before he shook his head swiftly at what she said. seeing right through her little lie he truly knew nothing much about what the truth was or not as he took a little sip of his beer.

“i know you but i’m not pushing it— rather you bite of logan’s heads rather then mine.” hank said out lowly as y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at his comment as a look of confusion spread over her face at the mention of him but before she could question hank on it she was met with two hands around her waist, pulling her tightly back purposely.

“hello pretty little liars, you’re aria?” wade said loudly into her ear his drunkenness obvious as y/n scoffed, him clearly stating that because her outfit choice as he squeezed her even tighter y/n’s eyes rolling as she elbowed him playfully back as his hands on her faltered as he playfully shoved her back.

“—elsa! you made it snow yet?” y/n said back to him as she was met with the sound of his laughter as he pulled on the stool next to y/n, making the guy who was sat on it mutter a curse before wade sent him a glare and then went speed walking away clearly a boy as young as fourteen or thirteen who just got the shit scared out him for, wade’s harsh look as he sqt down on the stool as he met y/n’s gaze.

“you know i have honey.” he nodded out with a smirk as hank leaned into the twos space.

“shots anyone?” hank rolled out, fixing his glasses as wade enthusiastically said a quick yes, y/n adding to the fire. “—very much needed.” y/n drove out as wade sent her a little look of knowing yet he held back the urge to call her out on it. he was being a ‘good’ friend in his eyes anyway, he didn’t wanna hear her say things about logan when he knew a few things himself on how the other party felt.

hank calling the barmaid over as wade pulled y/n’s stool closer to his that knowing look still present on his face as he played with the knowledge he had a bit just in a little playful way.

“you seen the birthday girl yet?..gave her a gift?” wade said sarcastically knowing the two didn’t really see eye to eye on a LOT of things as y/n gave him a little glare, him having been present for many of their little disagreements.

“luckily i haven’t, as i’ve brung nothing.” y/n rumbled back as wade nudged her playfully with her words as hank grabbed the tray of shots from the barmaid— y/n’s eyes widening once she saw how many shots he had ordered. “fifteen?” y/n broke out with a raised eyebrow as hank chuckled as he took one, downing it straight away before grabbing another as wade spoke up cockily.

“who’s pants are you trying to get into?” wade rolled out, his voice sly as he grabbed two for himself as y/n leaned over and took one ready to get shitfaced, maybe that’d stop her mind from falling back onto logan every other second her longing heart internally hating this situation more and more as she yearned to see him but she bit back the urge to even look around for him. halting that urge by taking a shot.

“preferably anyone with a pulse and no dick between their legs.” hank said right as y/n took another shot, her nearly choking on the burning liquid which was a horrible mix of vodka and god knows what.

“i can tuck.” wade said lowly as this made it worse, y/n nudging wade, shaking her head as she held back her laugh as she swallowed the shot she just took. “disgusting!” she rolled out as she took another, downing it before placing the shot down on the table.

“ah! sweeties jealous.” wade spoke up sarcastically with that all familiar cocky smile on his face with that teasing glint in his eyes as he handed another shot y/n’s way as she took it gracefully as they all cheersed their glasses together. that being just one of the about eight times they did that within the next thirty to sixty minutes as y/n bit back her thoughts with copious amounts of shots and soon enough they had gone through a good four or so tray off shots and a few drinks each.

every passing minute y/n felt her mind get closer and closer to the edge as every time she felt that aching feeling grow she’d swallow it back with another sip of liquor or large shot — wades jokes passing the time and hanks yapping and her own occasional drunken chime in making her mind a mess as hank got another row of shots.

the songs and wade and hank’s voices becoming a blur in y/n’s mind as she swallowed nothing but the truth with those shots. every sip feeling like more heartache she couldn’t stop having.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n was practically stuck too the bar stool, her eyes scanning the crowd occasionally (by occasionally around five times if not more a minute) as she looked for him. her mind lingering on a certain someone as it always tended to do the liquor just amplifying those feelings as hank spoke up.

“you know— you look like your mum.”

his words caused y/n’s attention to snap over to hank as she raised an eyebrow, wade making a little ‘oo’ in the background even if he couldn’t help but agree with his comment as he sipped on the cocktail he had ordered a few drinks previously that had just been laying there on the side. the bartender making a fuck ton of profit from these three miserables.

“very dead?” y/n said sarcastically as hank gave her a little look — clearly a little annoyed she didn’t take the comment seriously as he leaned a little closer to her.

“beautiful you idiot.” hank added out, his words making her eyebrows furrow a bit as she took in his drunken words as she gave him a little a smile — swallowing the depreciating joke she was close to making as she took a sip of her drink.

“thank you hank.” y/n nodded out calmly as wade butted in.

“—fucking hell, incoming for angry jacob twilight wannabe.” wade cursed out as y/n’s gaze moved over wade following his eyes to where he was looking, her heart feeling as if it was flipping and twisting in her chest as she watched logan walk into the bar games room as she furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of jean following him angrily. her looking perfect as ever.

yet before y/n could think another thought she locked eyes with logan from across the room — their eyes meeting as she felt a weight lift immediately onto her as she swallowed a lump that formed in her throat at just the sight of him. it felt as if time has frozen just as they looked to each other , his eyes taking everything about her in as she did the same his way.

he practically immediately walked over, more like stomped over, as he seemed clearly agitated. more then usual as his eyes dawned onto wade and hank before resting back to y/n as he stopped in his tracks in front of the seated three.

“who thought getting a teenager shitfaced was a good idea?” logan nearly growled out, giving wade a glare as y/n’s eyes lingered back on jean who saw who he was talking to and turned away her being even more pissed then him, y/n holding the urge to go into her mind and find out why as she brung her gaze onto logan after seeing jean walk off somewhere else in the room, her patience clearly wearing thin. her wanting to make a little childish comment about how she wasn’t when wade spoke up.

“gods probably.” wade rolled out in reply as logan scoffed at what he said.

“y/n.” logan said, her eyes meeting his own as she took in his appearance. her eyes lingering on the chain that was wrapped around his neck — one he told her was something jean gave him when he first became an xmen, something he hasn’t worn in months, this fact only making her feel a number of horrible thoughts as she grabbed her drink and took a mean swig. swallowing her own building self pity as she forced a fake smile logan immediately knew to be fake.

“hi.” she said swiftly after she put her drink back down on the table — his eyebrow raising a little at her hostility as he looked to wade, hank the back to her.

“uh—“ logan spoke up, trying to find the words to say as he looked at her a bit lost for words at how she was acting as he swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat — feeling his frustration rise as he tried to control it, “where have you been?” he said lowly, hank raising his eyebrow at how this little conversation seemed weirdly tension filled. wade knew why, he could’ve called her little feelings for him back when she first met the guy but now he couldn’t help see how serious it was because off the way she was looking at him and how it was affecting her.

he couldn’t even brung himself to but in as he buried himself in his drink. hank doing the same.

“i’ve been busy. but i’ve been around— i saw you two days ago.” she said quickly, shifting in her seat a little as his eyes almost felt as if they burnt through her.

“you didn’t stay,” he said taking a pause as he looked at her, taking in just how intoxicated she seemed as he tried to analyse it, “like you uh- normally, do.”

his words touched a nerve on y/n as she felt that all familiar heart ache grow y/n trying to act as if the feeling inside her wasn’t killing her right now and ripping her to shreds as she kept her gaze on him, his eyes on her making her think and feel a number of things she hated.

“—had somewhere to be.” she replied quickly, his eyebrows raising at her bluntness to her reply as he knew something was off. he sensed it, the drunkness only adding to his worry as he went to step closer when he was cut off by a voice behind him.

y/n eyes dawned on the sight off jean, a tight silver dress on showcasing her curves as her red hair flowed down by her side as she looked at logan who hadn’t even brung himself to met her gaze yet. y/n immediately being hit with a truck load of insecurities just with a glance to the older women who had the only guy she’d ever loved wrapped around her finger.

y/n’s heart feeling as if it was stepped on as she kept her gaze on him — time feeling a little slow motion.

“logan—now.” jean said harshly.

“lo- logan.” she said again, y/n not leaving logan’s gaze as he swallowed his own spit as he eventually brung his gaze over to jean.

“logan— he knows.” she said harshly, her words a little quiet as they were clearly just meant for logan’s ears yet y/n heard them. “now! come on?” she questioned out frustratedly, saying that to grip his attention as logan looked to jean then back to y/n, wade and hank watching like it was a drama.

the air felt thick with some sort of something as y/n swallows, her eyes on him as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“be careful kid, remember to slow down.” he rolled out before he turned away with jean going right to her side as y/n scoffed as he walked off turning her attention back to the barmaid — not feeling logan’s eyes burning back to her as he took a long glance her way before disappearing off with jean into the party to sort whatever was happening.

y/n rolled her eyes the second she turned her attention back over to the bar as she looked down at the bar table, swallowing her thoughts down with the rest of her vodka as she felt the others eyes on her. they sensed on the tension — it was impossible not too.

“so they’re fucking again.” hank commented lowly and cluelessly. his words being like a gut punch to y/n as she bit down on her tongue as she called back over the barmaid, leaning over and ordering a couple shots as she sat back down in her seat.

“mm, most definitely.. hell for scott.” wade ushered out lowly, feeling a sense of guilt as he saw the way y/n’s eyes fell as y/n tried to mute out their conversation in the background as she welcomed the shots with open arms as she pulled the tray closer to her as she heard wade and hank whisper behind her as they leant over to gossip about the rumours of jean and scott being over as y/n’s heart felt as if it was plummeting and beating as fast as it ever had with every shot she took. the information she was hearing just making her internal pain grow worse as she tried to drink it away every shot seemingly enhancing her hurt as the metal images she were getting hurt her brain as she felt the urge to do something about it.

her mind full of relentless unlimited thoughts that were screaming at her as she placed the last empty shot glass she had down — the shots helping limit the voices to some extent as the barmaid came over and refilled them without another word most likely sensing her anguish as y/n nodded to her with as much of a smile she could muster up as she thought back to the conversation with logan.

“we’re going to dance— you coming?” wade spoke to y/n as that brung her out her gaze with the bottom of the shot glass as she shook her head, “no—thanks,” she slurred out as hank gave her a small nod and pat on the shoulder before they disappeared of into the crowd leaving her alone after saying their be right backs— her lips immediately around another glass as she finished the rest of the drinks thay were laid out in front-of her.

y/n either needed fresh air and a sick bucket or the man she loved and craved, and she was going with the latter. her desires only heightened which was making just about everything worse due to the mess the alcohol had started to cause her brain and body.

her heart pounding as she stood up, everything going messy and spin like as she stumbled through the crowd. her mind on one thing and one thing only, one person, as she got pushed around a bit by the dancing people as she made her way out the bar room she was in. her eyes searching the place as she looked for him in every corner, in every face, every person, every laugh, every grunt and every noise. she was searching for him like she had been doing within her heart ever since she’d know the man.

yet what she didn’t expect to see when she turned the corner was him right there. logan right there in his bubble of perfection as she saw it. her eyes taking him in as she saw him in the hallway — a smile joining her lips as she started to walk over to him planning what she was going to say in her brain. how she was going to do any of this? she didn’t even know what she had planned, she just wanted to speak to him. she needed to see his smile. she missed it. she wanted to make him laugh like usual, she wanted to kiss him, feel his touch. she needed it, it was destroying her to not have him. why was she ignoring him for the past two weeks? she should just tell him. nothing bad could hap—

“mine.” she swore she could make out logan saying, her eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion as she took one little step closer to where he was as her eyes dawned on a certain red head with a killer smirk on her lips as she had a tight grip on his chain.

and with that every thought she just had was crushed within the space of five or so seconds as she heard jean’s light hearted chuckle next, her voice grating against y/n’s mind as she swallowed her own spit back down as she made sure she couldn’t be seen by them. feeling the sick feeling rising in her as she watched logan’s hands wrap around jean’s waist as she pulled him closer to her in a teasing action that broke y/n’s heart in two.

she was frozen in her tracks, watching as the one she loved was with the one he loved.

“you’re mine.” ringing in her ears as she just made out what he had said to jean as his words sent a chill through y/n’s body as she felt the tears start to boil in her eyes as she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene. her mouth fallen gap as she watched as he roughly had her against the door jean’s hand going down to the handle of said door as y/n watched as jean pulled him in the room with her roughly.

the door slamming behind them as she felt her beating out her chest, her breath shaky and hitched as she swallowed.

and when she heard a little squeal come from the room over the music a few seconds or minutes later, she couldn’t tell how long had passed, that’s when she knew she needed to go before she turned into a public laughing stock as she turned on her heel — shakily making her way through the crowd again, unbeknownst to the tears dropping down her cheeks as she fought her way through the dancing crowd as she tried to get the hell out of here as she thought she was fighting back her emotions, yet she really wasn’t doing too good of a job with it.

“watch it!” someone yelled out over the music to y/n as she shuffled past them quickly, stumbling out and disappearing through the back door as she made her break for it. her heart feeling broken to an extreme it hadn’t felt before which was only amplified by the alcohol as she felt her brain chemistry formed for logan be destroyed within a matter of moments. seeing it in front of her own eyes being completely different from assuming it had happened.

the fact they were doing that right now she just couldn’t and didn’t want too comprehend it. it hurting her so much she felt as if she was going to be sick, she could feel it to the extremist point that when she managed her way to the end of the courtyard where her little spot was with her childhood swing set, where she’s surprised she even remembered the whereabouts off in this state, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning down into a bush shakily.

her mouth watering, her throat burning with liquid as y/n threw up into the bush her heart pounding ridiculously as she felt the tears burning against her cheek as she didn’t even notice the feeling off two strong hands holding her hair back. her body shaking as she kept being sick, feeling the acid burn her throat as she felt a strong hand round her hair pulling it into a ponytail and another hand around her fragile body to keep her up.

her body flinching a little at the touch as the person leaned a little closer as y/n was sick some more, “it’s okay—“ a low voice ushered out as y/n couldn’t help be sick again, leaning down closer into the bush nearly tripping into it as the person held her upright. their hand snacking onto her waist as y/n leaned back into their touch. basically tripping into it as she let out a shaky breath as she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her top.

her eyes moving up onto an all familiar face and she instantly cursed in her brain as he managed to move her over to the swings, sitting her down in one of two seats as she clung to the chain of it leaning her body against it freely as she let out a little cry.

“you’re good.” scott said softly his voice low as he spoke into a comforting tone that didn’t completely soothe her as she felt the tears trail down her cheek as he kneeled down — his hands stabilising the swing that was rocking a little as he looked up at her making sure she was okay on the swing. the cold air hitting the twos faces as the moon shone down on the courtyard, the faint sound of pop music from the mansion being completely distant to both of them.

“scott.” she managed to say, him being able to tell how far gone she was by the way she slurred her words as if her crying and throwing up didn’t prove that enough. his eyes on her as he moved her hair out the way for her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she held back a little sob which wasn’t held back that well as she let out a shaky whimper.

“w-why— doesn-t he love me?” she spoke out quickly, her breath shaky and her voice high pitched as she let out little sniffles in between words, the weight of those making a sad smile tug on scott’s lips as he kept his hand on her face trying to keep her upright which was sort of impossible as he kept his comforting warm hand against her face. just trying to make her feel okay.

“—he—“ scott cut himself off before he moved closer to her, trying to keep her calm, “he does love you okay?”

y/n shook her head at scott’s words as she let out a muffled sob against her wrist, shaking her head as scott wiped the tears from her cheeks. “not like i want him to.” she rolled out in a slur, scott feeling his heart beat quicken at her little admission as if he didn’t know how she felt over him before as he moved his finger across her cheek in a soft circular motion, his hand cupping her jaw.

“hey- he does okay?” scott said quickly as he moved her jaw down so she met his eyes again, his tone soft as he moved himself to the other swing next to her — the second he was sat him moving his swing closer to her own. tangling the chains of his swing up a little in doing so.

“he does.” scott added out again, y/n not believing him at all as she swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat as she leaned herself again the hand that was cupping her face as she nearly tumbled off the swing.

her biting down on her tongue as she let out a little squeal as scott placed his hand on her back supporting and holding her up as a little chuckle left her lips as she leaned forward a little. scott not letting his hand move as worry was evident on his face as y/n turned to him a sad smile on her lips, tears still evident on her face.

“i wish.” he heard her whisper as he swallowed, his own voice breaking a little, “come on. okay? he doesn’t know what he’s missing right now.— he doesnt see you liking him.” scott said softly, giving her a little playful nudge as y/n started to lose the energy to even speak off it as she felt another tear slip down her cheek.

his words were taking the weight off her shoulders as she moved in the swing a little, scott’s comforting hand on her back which was now sort off around her waist making her sure she wasn’t going to fall as she moved a tiny bit closer to him on her swing. their swings touching a little.

“you deserve better then jean-y bitch.” she managed out lowly, scott not being able to help the chuckle that escaped his lips at how she put it as he looked out at the mansion in front of them. the moon present in his red tinted glasses.

“yeah— i’m starting to realise that.” he chuckled out as y/n gave him a drunken smile in return as she locked eyes with scott. someone she’d hardly noticed was this nice mostly due to the words logan remarked about him all the time as her smile couldn’t help but grow as she looked at him. the air softening between the two as y/n felt tiredness fall over her as she leant against the chains a little as she slowly moved her gaze over to the moon.

a few moments of silence passes before scott spoke up.

“y/n?” scott managed out trying to grab her attention as he saw he eyes wondering a bit. his eyebrows furrowing when he heard no answer in return, her silence scaring him as he nudged her.

“y/n?” he quickly said out once again, nudging her a little as he saw how limp her body was and noticed her closed eyes.

“fuck— y/n.” he ushered out quickly as he stood from his seat and went right to her side as he kneeled down, tapping her face to try and catch her attention. y/n stirring a little at his action as he stood up, pulling her up with him as he placed his hand around her waist as he tried to shake her a little which did the job as her eyes fluttered open to meet his own.

a drunken smile joining on her lips as a tear dropped down her cheek that she didn’t even notice as she chuckled a little, leaning close to him as she swayed a little.

“scott.” she said lowly as scott gave her a low chucke as she placed her arm around him drunk on, him wiping the tear of her cheek softly something he’d done a number of times since being in her presence tonight.

“okay it’s time to go sleep— im taking you to bed.” he explained softly as y/n looked at him with a little furrowed brow as he started to walk, helping her walk alongside him her hardly even able to realise she was walking as she leaned against his touch.

“you’re good.” he said calmly to her as they walked through the dark courtyard, the illuminated by the moon field of grass between them and the bustling school /xmansion being the only light to guide them. his grip on her tightening softly when she nearly tripped over her own feet, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he realised just how long of a walk it was to the mansion. him sighing as he held her upright. “nearly there.” he muffled out as y/n leaned to him.

“—‘m gonna be sick.” she quickly flushed out before throwing her head over in the other direction as scott patted her back and stopped in his tracks at her words as she was sick again — him holding the urge got to be sick too because the smell as he focused on helping her. his heart skipping a beat bit as he felt his anger growing over logan putting her in this situation where she was so drunk she was being sick or the fact that she was being sick just thinking about logan it made his blood boil as he felt his jaw clench — his eyebrows twitching as he helped her get it all out, whispering little comforts as he soothed her back.

“good girl. “ he said lowly as y/n brung her gaze into him once more him giving her a small sad smile as he placed his hand back around her waist to guide her, “cmon, bed.” he whispered out to her as they started walking again. having to go through the party definitely going to be a difficult task as scott tightened his grip around her waist as they walked past a couple people hanging around the outside area of the building as the music met y/n’s ears as once they got into the building scott called for people to move out the way as he made y/n stay close to him. her eyes wondering over everyone in her drunken haze as scott helped her over to the staircase which was through a couple wide, filled rooms.

her swearing she came across wade and hank in the corner with two twins and colossus’s doing a certain something to wade, her eyebrows furrowing at what she believed to have just seen as she shook it off as she met scott’s words.

“you need to be carried or are you okay?” scott asked as if he was babying her which sent a wave of comfort through her body as she let the question hang in her brain as she tried to form answer to it as she leaned herself against scott.

“‘u—‘i can—“

“scarlett?” logan roughly called out in a raised voice towards scott as he came over out of nowhere. scott rolling his eyes as he quickly picked y/n up, y/n being in scott’s arms as her eyes fluttered open to see logan to the side of them. scott’s jaw immediately clenching as he continued up the stairs without cracking a word to logan as he rushed after the pair. his own anger frustratingly high as he tried to control himself and stop himself from doing anything stupid.

“scott?” logan said harshly, his anger growing as he didn’t get an answer as he tried to get the man to look at him.

“lo-“ y/n slipped out, her voice muffled as she leaned into scott’s arms more as he carried her bridal style up the stairs. her realising his presence, logan’s eyes casting onto y/n and then back to scott. his eyes darkening.

“what have you done to her?!” logan rushed out, his voice cracking with worry as scott ignored his words as he made it to the top of the stairs and continued on down to where he’s pretty sure her room is.

“scott!” logan shouted again trying to get his attention as scott opened the door with his back, giving logan a harsh glare as he walked right over to the bed where he placed y/n down carefully on it. her drunken self pouring the cover over her figure as she rolled over in bed. letting out a little muffled whimper as her head laid on the pillow.

the second scott having let go off y/n he immediately turned to logan scott not giving logan another chance to talk before he connected his fist with his jaw, logan been taken aback a little as he raised an eyebrow, scott looking right at him as logan pushed him back harshly.

“what the fuck did you do?” logan cursed out quickly, scott scoffing as he held back taking his glasses off because of the fact it was a party, not logan’s funeral even despite how much he wanted it to be.

“you should ask yourself that, prick.” scott said harshly. logan’s eyebrows raising at his words as scott pushed himself past logan without another word.

logan immediately grabbing scott’s arm harshly, his claws aching to come out as he met his gaze.

“what do you mean by that?” logan said quickly, his eyes locked onto scott’s as so many questions flowed his brain. his thoughts enlaced with y/n and the worry he had for the girl as scott harshly brung his hand back to his side after shaking logan’s grip off — giving logan a stern look as he looked him up and down judgementally, “god, you are so stupid. you’d think being born in the 19th century would make you slightly smarter then a twenty nine year old.” scott scoffed out lowly, his words only angering logan more as he shoved scott against the wall.

his claws extending as he pressed them close to his throat — his threat there as scott swallowed.

“tell me.” he said harshly as scott couldn’t help a certain look cross his face. completely frustrated by logan, his heart aching for jean in this moment as he stared at what she had clearly picked over himself that enraging him yet also y/n and what she had just gone through herself. the heart ache something he could relate too and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. yet right now he would logan however.

“she saw you and jean you idiot. meaning i did too. meaning— fuck you.” scott said quickly as he clicked his visor getting the right aim, logan jumping back as scott lazered his chest. his beam going right through as a loud grunt escaped his lips as logan in immediate retaliation clawed scott in the side, scott pushing back the whimper threatening to leave his lips as logan as he got ready to take another shot at the man.

logan raising his eyebrow as the two stared eachother down, “i’ll heal,” logan rolled out his words only angering scott worse as he went to raise his glasses again as logan roughly placed his hand on his chest to stop him, his claws retracted back in.

“i wish you wouldn’t.” scott bit out harshly as logan scoffed at his words, keeping his anger limited as he rolled his eyes.

“jean only needed someone to talk too—“

“you mean fuck.” scott said out harshly, jean crossing logan’s mind as his jaw clenched his gaze darkening as he couldn’t bring himself to shake his head. not that he was thinking about scott’s feelings — right now his mind pondering on another.

scott saw how logan couldn’t even fight back with words — tutting as he pushed him back. logan’s hands falling to his side as the two didn’t break eye contact.

“you know we’re engaged.” scott spit out like venom, his words causing a look of surprise to wash over logan’s face as his mouth fell open, “well we were.” he added out.

“you were— what?” logan fumbled out, confusion written on his face as scott rolled his eyes at his reaction. not that he cared deep down, but it felt like he did right now.

“great.. she didn’t tell you. like she didn’t tell anyone,” he said lowly, “not that it makes it any better what you’ve done,” scott casted out as a few seconds finding passed as he tried to find the words which only come out anger filled, “she’s a caniving cheating bitch.” scott cursed out, logan not bringing himself to react to the words scott ushered about jean as he looked at scott.

logan was about to say something to scott when the sound of y/n’s soft little snores filled the room which made the tension even higher as scott and logan glared at eachother.

“maybe just think next time before you fuck someone else’s girl, again.” scott managed out as he pushed past logan to leave the room.

“i don’t think she’s your girl.” logan called back out before he left as scott’s jaw clenched at his words as he opened the door.

“not anymore. you can have her.” he said harshly as he paused as he knew he had to say something.

“—just think about how y/n feels, because i know hurts.” scott spoke lowly as he left without another word clearly implying a certain fact.

logans heart skipped a beat at his words as the door shut behind scott, his mind feeling as if it was in a war as the tension built in the room immediately. the air feeling thick as he swallowed his own spit not bringing himself to call something back to him as his words couldn’t even bring themselves to form right in his brain yet alone out loud.

his eyes dawned back onto the sleeping girl y/n laying there. looking so soft and innocent, completely sound asleep and his heart couldn’t help twang a little as he bit down on the inside of his cheek — many bustling thoughts cursing his brain as he wished he had never thought of them.

his mind lingering on the thought of jean and what just occurred within him and scott as he came down from the pain that was inflicted on him his chest rising rapidly to a more normal flow as he healed. as he focused his gaze on y/n as he furrowed his eyebrows over what scott had said, trying to wrap his brain around it.

logan’s eyes dawning on y/n. guilt seeping through him as he felt his heart gain that aching feeling y/n had been riddled with since the day she first realised she was in love with the man as he sat on the foot of the bed. his mind feeling melted as he placed his hand on her own his big, gruff and rough feeling hand taking the soft touch of her hand into his own grip. her hand being half if not less of his size as he soothed her. her touch being another level of comfort he didn’t recall experiencing since he was a young boy that feeling sending memories flooding through his brain he couldn’t focus on now.

feeling all the emotions boiling up he’d been fighting to push down as he looked down at her asleep body. what was all of this? she had been distant, almost rude and very cold and scott’s words were making that why question he had on his mind for the past two weeks clearer.

the implication of scott’s words hung in his mind as he looked at her. him eventually bringing himself over to the spare place next to her in the bed not wanting to leave her alone for the night too worried about how drunk she was and if anything could happen in the night.. or anyone else drunkily walking in. but he couldn’t help deep down in knowing that those were just excuses to stay within her presence. asleep or not.

carefully building a gap between the two of them as he laid down — no matter how strong the urge to hug her and comfort her was — as he let out a rough exhale as he closed his eyes.

only to open them three seconds later to look at her. his eyes not leaving her peacefully asleep body for the rest of the night.

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crheativity · 7 months

Note

This is my first time requesting here, so...

Hi! Mind if I send in a request? Hear me out: the track club bois, the basketball club bois and the spelldrive club bois getting a kiss on the cheek from the reader after a successful game/track meet

A KISS FOR THE VICTOR

SUMMARY: After a successful club meet, you give them a kiss on the cheek! How do they react?

WARNINGS: Some of these may be out of character (I’m sorry I still have no clue how to write Jack, Leona and Floyd)

COMMENTS: Hi! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this request, there were a lot of boys hehe! I hope you don’t mind but since there are a lot I did shorter headcanons instead of a full thing for each boy. Also, since I have no experience writing kisses yet, I just did their reactions. I hope that’s okay! This is such a cute prompt though, thank you so much for requesting it!!

Also, if you enjoy this, please consider checking out my 200 followers event!

TRACK CLUB

Jack froze, his eyes going wide. He coughed into his fist and looked away, desperately trying to regain his composure. A herculean feat, considering how adorable you looked gazing up at him like that. He smiles at you hesitantly - a small, wavering smile, before his cheeks go pink and he turns away to talk to his teammates. Although it seems he does not care, a keen eye will notice how his ears won’t stop twitching and his tail keeps wagging.

Poor boy stopped responding immediately. He tripped on the sidewalk and almost fell over, he got so flustered. He can’t concentrate on anything now. He’s really sorry, he’s trying his best to listen to what you have to say, but his mind is replaying that kiss over and over… He can’t look you in the eye for the next few days. The moment he gets to crash in his room, he calls his mum. He briefly talked about his match, but mostly talked about you. How does he talk to you again after that?? He might be a little awkward over the next couple of days, but know that you’re constantly on his mind and in his heart.

BASKETBALL CLUB

Oh? You’re gonna give him a kiss? Well tough luck, he expects one every match from now on! So what if he doesn’t win? He wants one anyway! That’s how you can cheer him up after a match from now on! But in the moment, he’s picking you up and spinning you around. His face is very red - whether from the exercise or from you, it’s hard to tell, but the bright red ears are a dead giveaway. He’s not gonna forget what you did, and loves to remind you - in the hopes that you’ll do it again.

Time stops for him and he stares at you, dumbfounded. His face heats up and boy does he wish he had his hood right now. He can’t talk to you or face you for the next hour as he struggles to figure out what to say. He does however feel really smug. Everyone in the match did super well, but he was the only one who got a kiss! From you! Ha! …wait. He was the only one who got a kiss. From you. He’s confused and flustered all over again. Please confess to him before he goes insane.

Ehhh~? Shrimpy’s giving him a kiss? Only one on the cheek? Screw that, he’s gonna give you an actual kiss! And a squeeze to boot. The moment you give him a kiss he registers that kisses are okay in whatever relationship you and he have and boy is he gonna abuse that. What are the two of you? He doesn’t care as long as you don’t, but if he makes you uncomfortable then he wants to know. Like Ace, he’s going to be expecting one for every match now, but if you don’t give him a kiss for some reason that won’t stop him giving you one~!

SPELLDRIVE CLUB

You thought Ace was bad? Leona’s gonna be so much worse. He doesn’t tease you quite as much, but he’s going to be incredibly smug, both after the track meeting and for the next couple of weeks after. Please be prepared for suddenly more Leona in your life, as the moment you press a kiss to his cheek he’s going to take that as a rite of passage to be almost constantly around you. He will encourage you to ditch class with him as much as possible. He just wants to spend more time with you now, and after that kiss, surely that means you want that too, right?

Ruggie nervously laughs it off, his cheeks going bright pink as he fumbles for something to say. He honestly, genuinely wasn’t expecting it - you managed to catch him so off guard that he doesn’t quite know how to act. Ah, but he’s not upset! He’s exactly the opposite of that, if anything. Elated, maybe? Who cares, his crush just kissed him! He is going to be bragging so hard to Leona and anyone who’ll listen afterwards. Maybe he’ll start giving you a couple more snacks - with a kiss as payment of course! Shishishi.

LET’S FREAKING GOOO. wait. Did you just kiss me-? Epel was in such a good mood after his match that his brain didn’t fully register that you just kissed him. He takes a break from celebrating for a moment to double check. When you confirm that yes, in fact, you did kiss him, his cheeks go apple red and he starts celebrating way harder. Calm down? He can’t calm down, this is the best day of his life! He won a match and got a kiss from a cutie to boot! The only thing that makes him calm down a little is Vil threatening to smack him with his shoe.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

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star-girl69 · 9 months

Text

Better Than Revenge

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)

a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift

warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.

Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.

Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.

It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.

It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.

You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?

She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.

She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.

“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.

The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.

“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”

“Took you this long to pick up on that?”

You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.

“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.

“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”

“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”

“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.

“Oh, Gods. What?”

“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”

She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.

“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”

She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.

“I can do an hour.”

“Oh, really?”

“I have amazing self-control, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.

“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.

She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.

“Really,” she says again.

But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.

It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.

You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.

“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”

—-

The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.

You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.

You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”

“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”

Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.

You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”

You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.

You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.

“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”

You risk a small glance.

There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-

You stomach flips.

She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.

“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.

You look pointedly back at Phoebe.

“He’s eh,” you shrug.

“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”

“Is he really staring?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”

You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.

She bumps your shoulder.

“Any updates with Clarisse?”

You smile, playing with your fingers.

“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”

“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.

“I know, I’m having so much fun.”

You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”

You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.

“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.

“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.

He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”

He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”

Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.

—-

You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.

“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.

Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.

“You wore those shorts,” she says.

“For you.”

“Oh, you’re so mean.”

“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”

Clarisse laughs.

“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”

“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.

“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.

You turn to her.

“What did you just say to me?”

“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”

You put your face into her warm neck.

“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”

You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.

“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”

Her eyes blaze.

“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.

Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?

“Clar, I-”

She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.

Harry walks around the table, smiling.

“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.

Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.

“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.

She looks at you at the corner of her eye.

You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.

“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?

Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.

“She looked cold,” he says.

She finally realizes what happened.

“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”

His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”

She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.

“Girlfriend,” she hisses.

“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”

She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”

Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.

Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.

“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”

Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.

“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.

She punches him in the face.

“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.

A crowd has formed around you.

Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.

“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”

“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-

“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.

Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.

“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.

“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”

It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.

“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”

“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.

“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.

You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.

“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.

After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.

Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.

She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.

She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.

She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.

As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.

“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.

“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.

“The contest. We should have stayed-”

You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”

She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.

“Well, who am I to deny you,” she says, holding your ass as you ascend.

“Also, stop punching people.”

“That’s where I deny you.”

You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.

“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”

She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.

“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”

You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.

She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.

“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.

“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”

“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.

You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.

“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.

“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.

She doesn’t like to admit she lost.

You hover your lips right above hers.

“Say it.”

Her fingers dig into your hips.

“I lost,” she grits. “You won.”

“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.

And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”

—-

(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)

—-

clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces

y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

2K notes · View notes

nickfowlerrr · 28 days

Note

everything comes out teenage petulance

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, talk of insecurities, talk of rejection, virgin!reader but no smut - just mentioned, mutual pining - requited love - leaning toward idiots in love, hurt/comfort, pet names (sweetheart, doll), happing ending per usual. if i’m missing something important, pls lmk!

words: 4.3k

aspen!!! it’s crazy you sent this bc i was just about to start writing a little bucky fic and what better gif to use than this 😌 lol seriously perfect timing! tysm 🥰🫶🏻

and another huge thank you to you, ray for helping me out with the final edit!! @whatever-lmaoo i appreciate you sm! 🫶🏻

notes: had an idea, saw this gif, and then bam! here we are. yes i was clearly listening to down bad while working on this, but i promise it is not as sad as the song! also this fic is insanely self indulgent and i’m not even a little bit sorry lol. i do hope you enjoy this, and thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so so appreciated! let me know your thoughts 🩵

You’re holding in the emotions threatening to spill out of you as you step off the elevator to the living quarters of the tower. You know no one else is here, everyone out on missions or gone for some downtime out of the city, but still, there are cameras everywhere and you don’t need your impending breakdown to be recorded.

You pull your slipping bra strap up your shoulder and mindlessly pull at the hem of your dress as you walk further into the darkened living room, your heels clicking on the floor as you go.

Your head is down as you near the kitchen so you don’t see the light radiating from the open fridge, but you hear it as the door closes loudly. You startle and whip your head to the kitchen, finding the one person you really don’t need seeing you in your current state staring over at you.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathe as you have a hand over your heart. His mouth is open as his eyes scan your body, roving up and down and making you feel even more self conscious than you were before. “What are you doing, I thought I was the only one here for the weekend?”

“Little early for Halloween, isn’t it?” He asks, ignoring your question.

Your brows furrow in confusion, “What?”

“You’re dressed like a clown, aren’t you?”

You’re essentially frozen as you take in his words. The fear that came over you at his surprise appearance had your self pity and consciousness forgotten for a moment but now it was back. And it was worse. You don’t do anything but stare at him for a second, you’re afraid if you speak or even try to move you will break down in tears and - fuck - you can feel your eyes welling as they begin to sting. You take a sharp breath and swallow hard, nodding once as your lips purse and you blink. You turn stiffly and walk away without a response.

He’s right behind you, though and you don’t make it two steps before Bucky grabs your arm.

“Wow, hey, come on, I was joking,” he breathes a disbelieving laugh as he tries to turn you toward him.

You fight him and pull your arm away, “okay,” you huff, just wanting to get away from him before the dam really breaks.

He lets you go but trails behind you as you walk faster down to your room.

You push your door open and don’t turn around as the tears finally begin to fall, trying to shut the door behind you without having to look at him.

He sticks his foot in front of the door as you try shutting it and keeps it open.

“Go away,” you nearly growl through tears, your voice sounding tight and if he hadn’t already caught on to your crying, there was really no way to deny it now.

He doesn’t say anything but he does push your door open enough to slip through it. It falls shut as you stand with your back to him, sniffling and trying desperately to stop the flow of tears that are drowning you, arms crossed over your chest as you work to control your breathing. You just want him to leave you alone so you can cry in peace.

“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I really didn’t mean it, I was just kidding,” he begins softly, “but you and I both know I’ve said worse to you before, so,” he hedges, “maybe it wasn’t what I said that made you cry…”

“I dont wanna talk about it, Bucky. Why are you even here? Just leave me alone,” your voice trembles despite yourself.

He sighs heavily and you see him from your mirror as he runs a hand through his hair and takes a cautious step closer to you, “Yeah,” he breathes, “I dont think I’m gonna be able to do that, sweetheart.”

You bristle at the petname and can’t help the sob that leaves you as the reminder of how your date went tonight plays in your head.

“Go away,” you whine as more tears fall and you try to turn further from him - as if that were possible. Your eyes squeeze shut in a futile attempt to stop crying, a pathetic pout on your lips as you try to stifle your sobs.

A gentle pull on your arms has you turning around, you don’t have it in you to stop him as Bucky gingerly pulls you closer. You’re too embarrassed to open your eyes as you cry harder and when you feel his strong arms around you, holding you to him, the tears only come faster. You feel yourself lean into him as you mindlessly bury your face in his chest, hugging him tight like he’s the only thing keeping you upright.

His warm hand is rubbing up and down your back as your walls continue to crumble around him.

“It’s not fair,” you blubber like a child into his shirt.

He doesn’t respond, waiting for you to continue as he keeps rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you, his brows furrowing as he wonders what could’ve happened tonight to cause this.

He’s never seen you this way and he hates it - hates that you’re upset and crying, anyway. The way you feel in his arms, holding onto him like this, well that’s a different story…

He’s keeping his anger at bay until he knows exactly what went down, but he knows you had a date tonight, and the only reason he’s here when he had plans to be out of town this weekend is because you were going to have the place to yourself, and he couldn’t get the idea of you bringing your date back here alone out of his head. Immature, sure, but he didn’t know what else to do but wait around to scare whoever it was you were out with away before they had a chance to so much as see you out of your shoes.

He’s even more grateful now that he decided to change his plans last minute. He was surprised to see you coming in alone, and if he wasn’t so caught up in how damn good you looked tonight, he probably would’ve noticed your mood before he decided to open his stupid mouth. But that’s your thing; the teasing, the bickering, the tit for tats. He was expecting a jab right back, but when he saw your eyes watering at his words, he felt sick. He couldn’t let you walk away crying, he couldn’t stand to see you so upset. Especially because of him. But now, as you stand here in his arms, so uninhabited and vulnerable, he knows it wasn’t because of him. And when he finds out exactly what or who it was that made you so upset… god help them.

“It’s not fair,” you mumble your cry again, “I just,” you hiccup, “why can’t I be pretty,” you sob.

It’s takes a second for the words to register before Bucky can react. “What?” he questions harshly, pulling you away from him, his hands on your arms as your tear streaked face and bleary eyes peer up at him.

Your eyes squeeze shut again as your crying continues and you fall into him again, not wanting to look at him as you make your confession. “I just want,” you cry, “to be pretty. I want someone to like me. To love me,” you eke out, your heartbreak evident in your voice. “No one loves me,” you mutter defeatedly. “No one’s ever loved me and no one is ever gonna love me,” you sob, grabbing his shirt as you cry into his chest harder.

“What exactly did this asshole say to you?” Bucky knows he needs to calm down but what he’s hearing from you right now is going to drive him insane. Why in the world would you ever say or think this about yourself? Your date had to have done or said something, he’s sure of it.

“Nothing,” you dismiss, “I mean, nothing wrong or mean. They were nice about it, I just,” you can’t help but cry more. “I’m not their type. Which is fine,” you try to shake your head and rationalize yourself into stopping crying, “that’s fine, I know I’m not everyone’s type,” you gesture vaguely down your body, “and I wasn’t super into them, either, I was just trying to put myself out there for once and I just, ugh,” you bemoan. “I dont know why I was expecting anything different. It’s never been different, won’t ever be different. I’m just, me. And they said what everyone always thinks, I’m a sweetheart, I’m just not their type,” you shrug before your tears bubble up once more and you let your face fall back into Bucky’s chest.

“If I was skinny, or pretty, or nicer,” you babble before Bucky cuts you off.

“Doll, stop it,” he orders firmly, surprising you as he suddenly lifts you effortlessly off your feet and has you clinging to him as he walks the short distance to sit you on your bed.

You’re stunned silent as tears continue to roll down your cheeks and even more surprised as Bucky kneels before you, making sure you’re looking him in his clear blue eyes. His gaze is intent and penetrating and you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. He’s so close…he’s never been this close to you before and you feel your breath trapped in your chest as you watch him.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says seriously, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and you’re an idiot for ever thinking otherwise.

His sincerity has your stomach twisting and your shame and disbelief has your tears falling again.

Your lips quiver as your pout remains, and you shake your head.

“Don’t do that,” he admonishes, hand gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him again. You swallow hard at the soft touch and the tenderness in his eyes. “Hear me when I say this, doll. You are absolutely beautiful. Exactly the way you are. Fuck ‘type’.”

You wince at his words, and you can’t help but look away again. It’s easy for him to say, he’s goddamn gorgeous and everyone knows it.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but you really just don’t get it,” you shake your head. “You could walk down the street and get anybody you wanted with one look,” you smirk softly. “You’re everybody’s type.”

“You don’t need to be anyone’s ‘type’, sweetheart,” he says.

“Yeah, and I’m not,” you reiterate harshly before taking a breath, not wanting to work yourself up again. This is stupid and you know it and it feels even more mortifying to be talking about this with not only the most attractive man you’ve ever known, but also the man you’ve been down bad for for so long. Deep down you know you don’t really care what most anyone else thinks, there’s really only one person you care about not finding you attractive, and you’ve worked to get over that sting of unrequital for a long while now, but fuck, everything just feels so heavy tonight. It’s not even that it’s just not him, which still gets to you every time you’re reminded of it, it’s that it’s not anyone.

And it’s not that you even want anyone else… you don’t, but knowing there’s really no one interested in you, the very real prospect of being alone forever, it got to you tonight…

“You don’t know that,” he says lowly.

“Bucky,” you roll your eyes, not only in annoyance, but also to keep the threatening renewal of tears at bay.

“So what you’re not some random person you don’t even like’s type,” he dismisses, placing his hands on your thick thighs as he stays kneeled before you, and you aren’t sure if he even realizes he’s doing it as his thumbs rub there softly, “you’re my type,” he defends.

You could curl up into a ball right now and die, there is no way you’re this fucking pathetic you have Bucky Barnes on his knees trying to convince you he thinks you’re pretty. As if this night couldn’t get any worse or more embarrassing.

You’ve seen the people Bucky has brought back here before. He certainly had a type, and you are certainly not it.

“You don’t have to say that, Bucky,” you blink away from his gaze. “It’s nice that you feel bad for me,” you sniffle, wiping at your tears with the sleeves of your dress, “but you really don’t have to.”

“Why do you think I feel bad for you?” He questions, moving to look you in the eyes once more, his confusion clear on his face.

You shrug, turning your head to again avoid eye contact, “I’m pathetic,” you laugh sardonically, wiping at the tears still slipping, slower now but still evident.

“You’re pathetic?,” Bucky chuckles, his soft touches on your thighs ceaseless. He bites his lip as he glances down to his hands, spreading his fingers wide before he squeezes you a bit, and if you aren’t reading into it, you’d say he seems the slightest bit nervous, his hold on you as much to try to comfort you as it is to comfort him, “I’m the one who bailed on guys weekend just to make sure you didn’t bring anyone home tonight,” he admits, causing you to finally look him in the eye again. What did he just say? You’re baffled and it’s evident as your brows furrow and you frown. He continues, “Or if you did, to make sure they wouldn’t stay long,” he half smirks, half grimaces.

“What?” you breathe out.

“Not the most mature move, I know, but,” he says, running a hand through his hair before he rubs the back of his neck, having the decency to at least be a little embarrassed by his plan. “The thought of you with someone else…anyone else,” he shakes his head. “I can’t stand it.”

You can’t possibly be hearing what you’re hearing, right? You don’t move or speak for a long moment as you try to make sense of what Bucky’s saying to you because clearly you’re not hearing correctly.

“You can’t stand…” you process aloud, “the idea of me being with someone?”

He breathes a laugh as you stare at him dumbly, his nervous habit of pushing his long hair back from his face shines again while he chuckles. “Doll, I can’t stand the idea of you being with anybody who isn’t me,” he clarifies.

“What are you-?” you shake your head, “What do you mean?”

His big hands return to your thighs as he gently squeezes you. “I mean that if you had come home with someone tonight, I would’ve made sure they didn’t stay more than a minute to say goodbye.”

You snort a laugh, wiping another tear from your cheek. That’s crazy.

“Please. ‘M not that kinda girl anyway, Buck,” you say. “I uhm,” you clear your throat, clearly a little uncomfortable with what you’re about to say, but fuck, you’ve already embarrassed yourself this much tonight, what’s a little more confessing gonna hurt, “I’ve never…done, anything. With anyone.” You admit, looking down at your hands in your lap.

It’s a moment before Bucky speaks again.

“Never?”

You shake your head slowly side to side, lips pursed, “No,” you murmur.

“That’s impressive,” he breathes.

You quirk a brow at his response.

“Mean, you gotta be batting people off like crazy,” he says, his warm hand once resting on your thigh now thoughtlessly trailing down the soft skin of your leg.

“No,” you state slightly annoyed and ever embarrassed. “Not like anyone’s ever been interested,” you trail off.

Bucky laughs again, not so nervous now, more in disbelief, “You’re so blind,” he muses, “I feel so bad for everyone who has ever been interested in you.”

Your face shows your taken offense but Bucky keeps talking before you can say a word about it.

“If you really think no one’s ever been attracted to you, you’re fucking crazy, sweetheart.”

You gape like a fish for a millisecond, opening and closing your mouth as you blink down at your thighs, his metal hand holding your right thigh softly and the fingers of his right hand dancing along the exposed skin of your left.

“I’m not crazy,” you mutter as his hand slips higher up your leg.

“You are,” he argues lightly, “and you make me crazy,” he says softer, blue eyes gleaming up at you. “Have you not heard a word I’ve said tonight?” He pauses, debating on whether or not he wants to say what he’s about to say before he decides to throw caution to the wind and finally admit his true feelings to you, as clearly as he possibly can this time. “You’re all I ever think about. Not just because of how pretty you are, either,” he smirks, growing more confident now and loving the way you react to his touch as his hands smooth along your soft thighs, goosebumps rising in his wake as he hears your breathing stutter. “It’s so much more than that,” he breaths in, “it’s every single thing about you. Your snark,” he smiles, “your strength. Your bravery, your stubbornness. Your lame jokes,” he pauses to admire the slant of your lips as you fight a soft smile, “your laugh. Your kindness, your friendship. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. The whole damn package, doll. And that’s without even bringing looks into it, because fuck,” he scoffs, “it’s a real shame you don’t see what everyone else sees.”

You dare a glance back at his penetrative gaze, “…And what, exactly, is that?” you reply timidly, but desperately wanting to hear his answer.

“A real life goddess,” he admires as he leans closer to you, his hands now well under the hem of your dress as they inch further and further up your thighs.

Your stomach is in a flurry as a tingle sparks inbetween your legs at his touch.

He leans up to you slowly, testing your waters as he gets closer and closer to your lips. You’re barely breathing when his nose brushes yours and you take a shaky breath when his hands leave your thighs and come to gently hold your face.

“You’re insanely pretty, and likable, and lovable, and you don’t need to be skinny for anyone to find you attractive. You’re gorgeous, inside and out. And I don’t wanna hear you talking about yourself like you were ever again, you hear me?” He questions quietly, intent but caring as he holds your glistening gaze in his.

You nod lightly, knowing tonight you weren’t your typical self. You had a hard night, and you let those old mean, destructive and intrusive thoughts get to you. You really do know better, but you’re human. And everybody has those days. You’re suddenly feeling even more grateful for Bucky’s unexpected presence tonight. If he wasn’t here, you’re sure you’d have spent the night in a spiral of self hatred and pity and would’ve probably cried yourself to sleep.

Your tears are dry now, though. And Bucky is still so close, his touch so gentle as his brilliant blue eyes swim with his care for you. You’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt so real and intimate as it does now, knowing what you know now.

He’s here tonight because of you. For you.

He’s not expecting anything, and you’re not sure how much you’re ready to give, but as he smiles that lopsided smile at you, you can’t help yourself as you lean into him, too. It’s slow and cautious as your lips brush his, and then you let your eyes flutter closed as you finally kiss him. It’s almost embarrassing how many times you’ve dreamed of kissing Bucky, but none of them played out like this, none of them ever came close. His lips are soft, his hands firm as he holds your face and you readily let him lead you as he kisses you back.

It ends all too quickly as he pulls away slightly, his tongue slipping past his lips as he savors the taste of you, his forehead touching yours as he maintains your closeness.

“And just for the record, I don’t think you look like a clown,” he shakes his head while you let out a quiet laugh. “I think your makeup looks great, and this dress,” he sighs with a near groan, moving his hands to settle on your wide hips, squeezing ever so slightly, sending more sparks to light in your core as you almost mewl at his touching, “I know you know you look good,” he smirks. “I was just being stupid wanting your attention.”

“Well,” you start with a slight eye roll, “I mean, who could really blame you?”

He smiles brightly at that, his laugh warming you as he leans in to kiss you again. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Your girl?” You ask, a near whisper as his words have your heart skipping a beat, eyes still closed from the kiss before you slowly blink them open. He nods.

“If you wanna be,” he breathes, blue eyes bearing into yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to finally admit how crazy I am for you without making myself look like a complete idiot,” he simpers, his signature smirk on display, “obviously didn’t avoid that, but, now you know. I’m crazy about you, doll.” His thumb rubs your cheek softly as he keeps you close, “I wanna be with you,” he breathes, “in any way you’ll have me. So, if you wanna be my girl,”

You smile softly, nodding as you cut him off, “I wanna be.”

You see his toothy smile before Bucky kisses you hotly as he surges up without warning, hoisting you up with him as you squeak into his mouth, arms clinging around his neck as his own hold you under your bottom. His strength is so effortless it surprises you for a second, but in an instant you get more comfortable in his hold as he continues kissing you. His smile grows on his lips as you kiss him back in kind until you’re forced to break away for a breath.

“I’m not happy you were so upset earlier,” he says as he catches his breath, forehead pressing to yours as you tuck his falling hair behind his ears while he holds you, “but I’m so fucking glad you came back here alone.”

“Well, I’m not happy you were trying to ambush me,” you joke, “but I’m really glad you were here tonight,” you whisper the words as your hands play in his hair, noses brushing, you’re still so close.

You’re staring into each other’s eyes until your gaze falls to his lips. Bucky kisses you again, so much softer than he did before.

“Me too,” he whispers softly. You smile and then pat his shoulders. He gets your message and gently lets you go as your heels touch the floor.

“I know it’s late,” he starts, closing the small distance between you as he takes a step closer, not wanting to be too far from you, already missing your proximity, “but you were expecting a nice date tonight, and you didn’t get one,” he sighs, “I just don’t think that’s right,” he exhales with that ‘hear me out’ purse of his lips. You eye him expectantly, fighting a smile as you wait for him to get it out.

“What do you think about catching a movie and grabbing food at that place you like? With me,” he adds as if it wasn’t obvious, earning a bright laugh from you for the first time tonight. “It’s a Saturday, so you know they’re open late anyway,” he rambles.

You lean into him with your shoulder as you stand so close to each other, getting his attention back on your face as you smile. “I would really like that, Bucky,” you nod. “I’m just gonna,” you wave a hand around your face, “fix this up a bit.”

He laughs as he rubs a streak of black from under your eye, “still beautiful,” he simpers.

Your entire body warms at his touch and his admiration as you grab his hand gently in yours and pull him closer. He seems to read your mind as his arms circle you and he leans in to take your lips in his.

It’s sweet and so natural it’s hard to believe you guys hadn’t done this sooner. The friendship was always there, but you never knew the feelings were too. All this time you convinced yourself your harbored feelings for Bucky were unreciprocated, and all the while, he was trying to figure out how to confess his own to you.

You laugh quietly into the kiss, amusement playing on your lips as you think back on every encounter you’ve had with Bucky that had you falling harder and harder for him.

“What’s funny?” He asks as you part with a grin.

“It’s just, all so obvious now,” you giggle. “I always thought I was reading into things with you, that you were just being nice, just wanted to be friends,” you trail off, swaying closer to him in your heels. “But, this whole time,” you blink up at him, lips parted gently as he keeps your body to his, holding you close.

“This whole time,” he simpers, a soft smile on his lips. “What the hell took us so long?”

“Uhm,” you muse aloud, “probably our combined stupidity,” you joke as he chuckles, his smile never wavering as he keeps his eyes on you, “but, let’s just call it fate,” you shrug on a soft exhale. You lean closer to Bucky even more, letting your lips brush his again, the feeling one you don’t think you’ll ever tire of, “no better time than the present, right?”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

486 notes · View notes

lemonlover1110 · 7 months

Note

Hello! I hope you are doing well 😌 you are my fav writer and I just wanted to to throw out this crazy brainrot request to u bc I am SICK over it

So Florence nightingale syndrome right? Toji is like a professional boxer or whatever something athletic bc he's a fucking beast and he gets hurt, like his leg or something, and you become his at home occupational therapist. So you're like taking care of him and he's getting feelings for you while also being a stubborn ass bc u push him constantly so he can get better. and he's super hesitant to accept his feelings bc he's a Playboy of course.

I'm just picturing this one scene where you're helping him up and he's leaning on you and he says something like "are you sure you can handle me princess?" Idk I'm insane I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

Pairing: boxer!Toji Fushiguro x f!caregiver!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, frustrated Toji, Florence nightingale syndrome, Toji has an injured leg and is a little bitch for a bit

*This was so fun to work on and now I'm having thinking a little too hard about boxer toji (I'm ovulating) sofjsof enjoy!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji never really thought he’d be dependent on someone, yet now he can’t even take a shower standing up. After an unlucky boxing match, Toji ended up in a cast and crutches. That’s what he gets for not listening to his son who told him it was around time to retire.

“I’m not a fucking skeleton, I’m good in my field. I can do this for a couple more years.” How he wishes he could swallow his fucking words. He thought that after getting the cast off he’d go back to normal, and he’d have no issue with mobility. He shouldn’t have an issue moving his fucking leg again, he’s been moving it for more than thirty years, why should three months of not moving it change much?

Apparently he can’t do anything, which is why he has someone with him all day every day, helping him so he can get better. Toji’s main issue? He gets frustrated when someone tries to help him.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You smile at him as you put his dinner in front of him. He has a scowl on his face as you set it down in front of him. He tried to help make dinner but he couldn’t stand for too long. He’s mad, but not at you. He could never be mad at you.

Toji wasn’t necessarily fond of you when you started working with him; he hates being dependent on someone else, and he knew that he would have to depend on you for pretty much everything. You try to help him though, and he should be more appreciative of you because of it, but in reality he feels like a fucking baby. He’s grown to like you though… A little too much for his liking.

You leave him to eat, going to wash the dishes since he can’t do the task yet. Perhaps his own bowl and spoon, but not everything that needs to be cleaned. You watch him from the counter, watching his refusal to pick up the spoon and eat the soup you made him. Earlier he was so prideful, telling you that he would help you every step of the way during dinner, and he couldn’t even finish one third of it. You were proud of him regardless.

“It’s really good, Toji! The potatoes you helped peel really added a touch to it.” You’ve gotten close enough to be on a first name basis. You see each other every day, you stay in the same house, of course you’re close enough to talk to each other so casually. It doesn’t mean you should though. You’ve always managed to keep a very professional relationship with patients, but there’s just something about him that makes it hard for you to be normal around him.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.” He says, pushing the bowl of soup away. He’s not hungry anymore. Toji stands up, his hands holding on to the table to support himself before grabbing his crutches.

“Toji, if you’re not eating it, can you try to bring it over to me, please?” You ask. You know the soup has cooled down, if he spills it, he’ll be fine.

“If you want it, pick it up yourself.” Toji is clearly mad. You don’t take it to heart though, because you know it’s with himself and not you.

“How about we go to the park tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a nice day out.” You talk to Toji who tries to watch a documentary. He’s not all that interested in what he put on, caring more about what you have to say. He might not show it, and he tries to deny it, but he has the biggest soft spot for you. “We can also get some ice cream, if you’re in the mood!”

“Hey… I’m sorry about earlier. I was just—” It’s hard to get an apology out of him, but sometimes he knows he’s in the wrong and he feels the need to apologize. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, even though you’re clearly not upset with him. You’re so understanding and patient with him, he feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re fine, Toji.” You reassure him with a smile, your hand going over his balled up fist. You feel your heart skip a beat as you touch him. You’ve crossed the line past a professional relationship, and you should set some boundaries within yourself– But his other hand goes on top of your own before he brings it up, softly kissing your knuckles. It’s hard to set boundaries when he feels the same way.

“I’m tired.” He tells you, and you stand up to help him get up. Toji usually denies your help, but this time, he has no problem accepting it. You just want the best for him, and there’s some things that he can’t do completely alone. He has to take baby steps. He’s using you for support, and he’s scared that he’s too heavy for you. He asks you, “Are you sure, princess? Can you handle me? I know I’m pretty big.”

“You’re fine. I can handle you.” You reassure him, and you begin to walk to his bedroom. His room was previously on the second floor, but ever since his injury, he’s moved his bedroom to the first floor. You get him to his bedroom, helping him on the bed. You smile at him before saying, “Let me grab your crutches. You left them in the living room, right?”

Before you can walk away, he grabs your sleeve. Toji’s slowly realizing that he can’t fight off the feelings that consume him when you help him, and he’s usually not a fan of them. Toji’s been tied down once before, he certainly doesn’t want that again. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t mind the idea.

“Will you lay down with me?” He asks, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. You shouldn’t. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before he prompts himself up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Toji, you know this isn’t something I can do.” You tell him as he looks lovingly into your eyes. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“You can help me get better by laying down next to me.” Toji responds. You grab the hand that so lovingly touches your cheek and kiss it, before bringing your lips down to meet his momentarily. He swears he hears fireworks when your lips meet, even after you pull away.

He’s most definitely in love with you.

“I’ll go get your crutches. Good night, Toji.”

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spitdrunken · 8 months

Note

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #cw.drugging #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon

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eddieandbird · 3 months

Text

One More Request —

A reimagining of Colin Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington’s first kiss.

A/N: happy Bridgerton day everyone!! I am still fully on colin and pen brainrot, so enjoy my take on this scene! Even if you don’t watch Bridgerton, I still think it’s a super cute concept -bird

tags/warnings: fluff | 2.2k words | f!reader | love realization

———

As the sun dipped down in the Hawkins’ sky, you gently dropped another cardboard box into Eddie’s van with the rest of your belongings you’d be taking with you to college.

“Okay, I think that’s the last of it,” You grunted, shutting the door.

“Alrighty Miss Indiana State. Are you ready for big girl school?” Eddie chuckled, leaning his back against the car.

“Almost,” You said with an exaggerated exhale. “I have one more request,”

“Oh boy. It’s that bad huh?” Eddie had a wry smile. “Okay, what is it? I’ll try my best not to laugh,”

You gave a humorless chuckle “Oh, I think that’ll kind of be hard,”

Eddie’s eyes widened for just a moment as if to say ‘oh my god’ then he spoke up “Well come on, don’t make me nervous. Out with it, kid,”

“I don’t know, I’m having second thoughts now,” You bit your thumb nail.

Eddie could see you were serious. He had hoped you were just pulling his leg, so he could laugh it off. But of course, you weren't. He peeled his back off the van so he could face you.

“Come on, spit it out. I promise I won't laugh that much,” He grinned, trying to lift your spirits.

You covered your face in your hands for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“Will you kiss me?” You shut your eyes tight, terrified to witness his reaction.

Eddie shook his head and waved his hand in confusion “Excuse me? What in the hell-“

“Eddie, I don’t know how to say this, but I leave for college in a couple of days and I still never had my first kiss. And there’s no way I am letting my over-prepared, always anxious self go to college; the land of hookups and parties, without having my first kiss!” You explained so quickly that you had to pause to breathe.

Eddie looked down at the ground for a moment before looking back at you with a bewildered expression, “You sure you're not just messing with me now?” He smirked then nudged your shoulder.

When you didn’t laugh back, he paused, and looked down again with a blank stare, as if he was putting the pieces together in his head, “Oh you’re serious aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds totally insane, but it’s kinda important to me. I wanted to do it with someone I really trust,” Your shoulders slumped forward a bit in embarrassment. You knew you were throwing a curveball at Eddie with this request, but he was one of your best friends. It made better sense in your head.

Eddie shook his head, stammering “But I’m not your- I mean we’re not-“

“No! No, please it’s not like that, it doesn’t have to mean anything or be amazing or whatever! I just really want to do it,” You gulped, your thumbs toying with the cuffs of your sweater.

Eddie was still trying to wrap his head around the whole thing. Your reasoning was rational, you wanted your first kiss to mean something rather than just some fling or a situation you were pressured into like most people. He couldn’t help but be impressed, you were such a perfectionist and you truly thought this through.

He sighed, looking at the ground with a cheeky grin, “Yeah alright. C’mere, I’ll do it,” He jokingly scoffed.

You let out all the air you were holding in your lungs when he said yes.

“Oh thank god. I thought I was about to be humiliated,” A nervous giggle was woven into your words.

“Okay do we just do this here or-“ You suddenly realized you did not know what else to do.

A part of you didn’t think you’d get this far, but you were damn proud you did. Unfortunately, the lack of preparation for this part left you a bit frazzled. Eddie chuckled, finding your plan endearing. He was a little nervous himself, not even considering the possibility that you would ever ask him this favor.

“Yeah here is fine, unless you wanted it out in some field of wildflowers and a sunset or something,” He said, grinning wickedly. “Just get closer,” He motioned toward him.

You playfully scoffed as you leaned in, trying not to roll your eyes at his implication. A romantic atmosphere was the least of your worries.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” You mumbled, stepping forward and shifting your gaze upward to meet Eddie’s.

“I said I wouldn’t laugh, I never said I wouldn’t tease you,” Eddie countered. He swung his arm around your hip, pulling you even closer.

You let out a soft gasp as he grabbed you. You cleared your throat.

“Fine, whatever, just tell me what to do first,” You said, feigning impatience.

“Don’t get an attitude with me,” Eddie said with a smirk.

He was enjoying this power that he suddenly had over you. He’d never seen you this nervous before. He was used to you having a witty comeback or retort to counter anything and everything he said, but you were flustered and vulnerable in front of him.

He chuckled as you asked him what to do next, and he grabbed your other hip, so you were standing flush against him.

“Just relax,” He brought his face down closer to yours, your noses nearly touching.

You could hear a gulp clearly in your ears. You tried to relax your shoulders and empty your mind. Eddie then pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, so softly you barely felt it, as if it was a butterfly flapping its wings on you. He was unsatisfied at the quickness and subtly it had, so he decided to do it once more, this time with more enthusiasm.

You were in no state to refuse him. With your eyes closed, you were left to only feel; his breath that tickled your face and his lips that were pillow-soft on yours. He was surprised at how willing you were underneath his touch. Normally you were strong-willed and stubborn. But now, you were soft and quiet. His mouth moved against yours, molding his lips to yours perfectly. His breathing grew stronger as he kissed you, forcefully exhaling through his nostrils.

Eddie pulled back after the second kiss, his eyes slowly fluttering open. It was more of a real kiss, a proper one. To his surprise, he found himself coming undone at the feeling and the thought of you. The kiss completely morphed his view of you as just another person he had grown up knowing and caring for, to someone he didn’t want to let go of.

Eddie’s emotions slowly started to unravel. He always pushed away these thoughts of you or rationalized them in his head. But now, as he had you pinned against the car, his chest against yours, and his fingers tangled in your hair, he was struggling to keep his feelings in check.

You both stared at each other for a moment in silence, standing there frozen in each other’s arms. You were the first to pull away. It shocked you because it actually happened, but also because you enjoyed it. Your body reacted in ways you never experienced before. Your skin was flushed and your heart pounded harshly against your ribs. Fight or flight kicked in, and you decided you had to flee.

“I should go. It’s late and mom’s expecting me to be there for dinner,” You sputtered, halting the silence. “Thank you so much for um… doing all this,”

You gave Eddie one more quick hug before storming off inside your home.

“Oh shit…” Eddie muttered to himself.

He realized then and there he had feelings for you. This sent him into a spiral as he had his back pressed to his van with his chest heaving. You were leaving for college soon and he needed to make a move before he lost you forever.

~~~

Eddie came to see you around the same time the next day. He sheepishly rang the doorbell, then shoved his hands back in his pockets. You opened the door looking at him puzzled.

“Eddie? What are you doing here? We don’t have to get on the road for another ten hours,” You asked, stepping out and closing your front door.

“Hey, yeah, I know. I just have something a little urgent I gotta tell you. Can we go sit in the van?” He pointed with a head nod. He looked worried. You followed him to the back of his opened van, taking a seat beside him.

“Everything okay?” You asked, attempting to decipher his pained look.

Eddie was trying his absolute hardest to hold back his anxiety, but he knew you could see right through him. His hands were shoved in his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting, and he was rocking back and forth on his feet awkwardly. He didn’t know how to word his thoughts at that moment.

Once he was seated with you in the back of the van, he closed the door for some privacy. He was looking down at the ground, avoiding eye contact, before he finally spoke up.

Eddie took a deep breath before speaking, still avoiding eye contact with you. “Yeah, sort of. There’s just something I really need to tell you before we leave tomorrow.”

His mind was racing as he tried to put his thoughts together. How was he going to explain his newly found feelings to his closest friend?

“Oh? Well, I’m sure I don’t gotta remind you that you can tell me anything. What’s going on?” You asked curiously, but light-hearted, hoping to alleviate his anxiety over the conversation.

You tried not to read too much into his expressions, but you noticed that his demeanor was a whole lot like yours from the night before. Eddie chuckled slightly at your words, knowing how much truth there was behind them. You were right, you were his best friend. And he could tell you anything. That also scared him, because what he needed to tell you just so happened to be something he didn’t even fully process yet. He finally looked up at you and met your eyes, but for a split second before looking away again.

He let out a shaky breath, “Yeah I know you’re my best friend, which is why I feel like I should tell you this before you leave tomorrow. I don’t want you to go away thinking I couldn’t man up and tell you my true feelings.”

“True feelings?” You repeated, your voice trembling as you were piecing together what he was trying to say.

Once you did your mouth hung open and your eyes rapidly blinked in shock. You placed a hand on his knee, keeping his attention on you.

“Eddie, what exactly are you trying to say?”

He finally looked up at you and held your eye contact for a couple of seconds.

“God, this is even more embarrassing to say than you asking me to kiss you,” He muttered.

He looked back down to your hand on his knee and he placed his on top of it. “I think I have feelings for you.”

With your predictions confirmed, you were completely beside yourself. You shook your head in confusion.

“I thought- but we’re friends-” You said instinctively.

Eddie saw your stammering and became even more nervous. “I know. I know we were totally in agreement and complete understanding yesterday before that kiss happened, but it made me realize so much and I-“

You interrupted him by cupping his cheek, bringing him into a kiss that matched last night’s urgency. This time you were in control. Your lack of experience or confidence mattered very little. You poured your feelings, all the unspoken affection you had for him finally manifesting in this one action.

“I feel the same. I wanna be more than friends too,” You confessed quietly as you pulled away.

When you leaned in to kiss him, Eddie felt the tension melt away. Suddenly all his nervous energy faded away as your lips touched his. He let out a breathless gasp as you pulled away and then his mind processed what you had said. A grin crept onto his face at your words.

“Yeah? You really mean it?” He asked, bringing a hand to your cheek and looking into your eyes.

Then his smile fell again as he realized the circumstances. “But what about when you leave for college?”

You refused to let school get in between each other. This would not be the end.

“I’m only an hour away,” You said starry-eyed as you brushed your thumb over his cheek. “We’ll make trips out to each other and I’ll be home for every semester break,”

Your tendency to over-plan was working its magic once again. Your heart and mind were racing as you felt his stubble underneath your fingertips.

“I promise I’ll call you every night after class is over and write you cheesy letters all the time,” Your voice was shaky but full of hope. “What do you say, Eddie?”

He was always so in awe of your determination, and how it could transform a problem into a plan. He smiled at your list of promises and ideas, knowing deep down that you always managed to get what you wanted or find a way to make it work. He loved that about you.

“I say you’re a lunatic for wanting to have a long-distance thing with me. But, I don’t care. I like the sound of all that,” Eddie shook his head before bringing himself to kiss you.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff

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hailsatanacab · 9 months

Text

a father's son

Happy holiday truce, @dashing-through-ecto!! I was your gifter this year, I hope you enjoy the fic! Based on your prompt: "Do you need any help, Dad?"

Word count 2.2k - ao3 link

Things have not been going well for Danny Fenton.

Not only did he fail in intercepting Lancer’s call home, so now Mom and Dad know about his latest grades—he didn’t even get enough answers for an F this time, not when he fell asleep within the first five minutes—but they also caught Jazz taking the trash out for him.

“That’s one of your chores, young man! Heaven knows you don’t have many of them, which is why you need to be responsible and actually do the ones that we give you! It’s just not good enough, Daniel James Fenton, do you hear me?”

The full name.

It’s not often he gets it, but it sucks each and every time he does.

What sucks even more is that now, with what little free time he has, he’s cleaning the lab. It’s just not fair!

Broken glass skitters along the floor as he sweeps it up into the dustpan, ectoplasm still clinging to the bottom of the beaker.

He can’t even goof off—can’t even use his powers to finish quicker—because his dad is sitting at the workbench tinkering with whatever his newest interest is.

Great. Looks like he’s stuck cleaning the boring, human way.

The lab is quiet, but it isn’t silent.

Ectoplasm drips, maddeningly, from the gloop stuck on the ceiling. That’s a form of torture, isn’t it? Danny’s pretty sure he’s heard that before, that the constant sound of water droplets will drive someone insane. He can relate, because this is certainly testing him.

Dad’s talking to himself, too, little murmurs about what he’s doing, where he should be soldering, how it should be working and why it isn’t.

Vaguely, Danny wonders what he’s working on. Sure, it’s probably some ghost thing, but that’s not all they do! His parents made some pretty great advances before the portal switched on and monopolised all of their thoughts.

Yeah, that might be wishful thinking, but stranger things have happened! You never know.

Every 30 seconds, the motor on the ecto-filter whirrs into life, syphoning off the excess, pure ectoplasm from the portal and filtering it into something less volatile. In theory.

Underneath everything, the portal hums.

A droning beat that pulses in the same rhythm as his heart. Sometimes, he catches himself staring at it, leaning closer as it calls to him.

It scares him.

“Shit!” his dad shouts, dropping the soldering iron with a loud clang.

It’s enough to knock Danny out of whatever daydream he’d lost himself in and he whirls around to see his dad sucking on one of his fingers.

They lock eyes, both widening as they realise what’s happened.

“Ah, I mean, suffering spooks! That really hurt…” He shoves his fingers back into his mouth and his shoulders droop as he considers Danny. “Don’t tell your mother.”

Danny laughs.

“Are you alright?”

“It’d take more than that to put Jack Fenton down! All good, Danno, don’t you worry,” he smiles back before shaking his hand out and turning back to whatever he was working on. “Or, I would be, if this hunk of junk was cooperating with me!”

“What’s up?” Danny asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

Normally, he likes to stay out of the lab, as much as he can.

Obviously, what Phantom does doesn’t count. Phantom can’t help but come into the lab, set ghosts loose into the Zone, trash whatever weapons his parents have got going on, sneak out into the Zone when he can for some much needed R&R. The ectoplasm just hits different there.

“I’m trying to repurpose this toaster, but the ecto won’t run smoothly through the wiring. I think it keeps getting cooked by the element.”

“Oh? Do you need some help?”

Danny doesn’t like spending time in the lab, because if he’s in the lab then he’s either Phantom and he’s trying hard not to be seen or heard, or he’s Danny and he’s being punished.

But his curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah, come here, have a look! Perhaps another Fenton brain can knock some sense into it!”

So, he does.

Hell, anything beats cleaning the lab.

“You’re trying to run it through here?”

Dad nods and shifts in his seat to give Danny a better view.

“But you can’t, because the ecto is tripping the heating element… which is way higher than a toaster has any right to be, wow. No wonder it’s destabilising the ectoplasm, that would destabilise anything.”

Danny pokes around the casing, wiggling the wires back and forth to get a better look at the absolute mess his dad has made of it all. Sometimes it amazes him that his parents' inventions work at all.

“That’s what I’m thinking! But it has to be that high so we can completely break down the ecto!”

“You want it to break down?”

“Yep!” Dad says, clapping him on the back hard enough that he wheezes. He grins down at him when Danny turns around reproachfully. “Think of it, boyo, if we could figure out how to flash fry that ectoplasm high enough so that it evaporates—which it should do, it’s goopy gross liquid, after all!—then you wouldn’t be stuck down here cleaning for so long! We could take it to the streets after a ghost fight and clean up the whole town!”

Well, it’s not a Nobel Prize level invention… Danny’s pretty sure at this point that his parents would be laughed out by the Nobel committee. But, a quicker cleaning of the lab does sound nice.

It would mean he’d be stuck down here a lot less.

Besides… It's interesting.

“What if we…” Danny trails off and pulls the metal frame towards him, grabbing the tweezers as he goes. Vaguely, he’s aware of his dad leaning over his shoulder, the weight of him watching is a comforting presence that he’s not felt in a long while.

The real trouble is that you need ectoplasm to affect ectoplasm, and that’s not going to work if the object of the game is to evaporate it.

So what if they don’t introduce the reactive ecto until the end?

He makes quick work of stripping down what his dad’s already done and starts again, this time focussing on keeping the heat contained separately away from the ectoplasm. Just as he’s piecing together a trigger to concurrently shoot a blast of ecto towards the heated tip, Dad exclaims as he realises where he’s going with it.

“Oh! Danny, you’re a genius! Look at that!” Dad laughs and squints closer at what Danny’s doing. “Just wait until your mother sees this, she’s going to be so happy!”

Danny can’t help but grin as he ductapes everything to a piece of toaster casing to give it the first test try. Dad’s enthusiasm is catching as he whoops when the first puddle of ectoplasm burns off in acrid smoke.

They spend another couple of hours perfecting it, welding a case together and branding it with the Fenton F.

It’s not pretty—but then again, when are his parents’ inventions?—a long stick with a cattle-prod-like taser at the end. Instead of electricity, it launches ectoplasm from one rod and superheats the other. When activated, all you need to do is touch the tip to a puddle and poof! It’s gone.

Danny shivers as he watches another pool go up.

But, no! He’s thinking about it wrong. It’s not a cattle-prod, it’s more like one of those sticks you see people using on the highway to jab at the litter on the floor. It’s for cleaning. It’s going to make his lab cleaning chores way easier! It’s—

“Danny, just look at it!”

Danny looks at it, and then back to his father’s face when he can’t bear to see the smoking ecto anymore. It’s painfully happy and Danny does his best to be happy, too.

“Here!” Dad shoves the contraption into Danny’s arms. “You use that and finish what you’re doing and then when you’re done—I can’t believe I’m saying this, galloping ghouls, I’m so happy, I’m working with my boy—we can get to work transferring it over to the Jack o’ Nine Tails! Imagine it, Danny, with one whip and that pesky poltergeist Phantom will be gone!”

Danny freezes.

It feels as if Dad’s just dumped a bucket of ice water over him.

“Poof! Up in smoke!”

The fumes are getting to him. That must be it. His head is swimming and his stomach is churning. There’s a ringing in his ears and it melds with the sharp, stinging whirr of ectoplasm sizzling. It pulses in time with the portal behind him.

He stumbles, almost goes down—almost throws up—but it doesn’t matter. Dad doesn’t see him, already turned away back to the work bench.

It doesn’t matter.

You know what, it’s okay! It’ll be okay, Danny can sneak back down here later tonight and he can undo it all, it doesn’t matter!

Take a deep breath, now, finish cleaning the lab, ignore Dad—it doesn’t matter—and get this over with. Being here makes his skin crawl, he needs to finish—

“I’m so proud of you, Danny.”

For the second time, Danny stops.

Dad doesn’t say anything else, just sits with his back to him, opening and closing his hand over a screwdriver with the Jack o’ Nine Tails splayed out in front of him.

It takes longer than Danny wants to find his voice, but he manages to croak out, “What?”

“I’m proud of you, Danno. I know this year hasn’t been easy for you, don’t think we haven’t noticed. Your mom and I have been talking about how you're doing at school. We're not blind. We know kids can be cruel, and that Dash Baxter… But we're so proud of you for not rising to it. We love you so much, Danny.”

A lump grows in Danny’s throat and his eyes prickle.

His fingers bleach white where they grip the Fenton Evaporator too tight.

“Look at what you can do when you try, Danny! This is the boy that I know, this is the Danny that I love. I’m so proud of what we’ve done here today. It’ll make the world a better place, just you wait! Now, come on, boyo, pass me that soldering iron and let’s really get stuck in!”

And… And Danny does.

With shaky limbs and tears threatening to spill, Danny reaches over and passes Dad the soldering iron, watching as he gets to work, and when his dad asks him to get his hands dirty—“Here, run this wire up the rope, there’s a good boy!”—he does.

Danny does it all and he does it well.

He sucks in a deep breath, swipes a hand over his eyes, and he helps his dad.

He laughs when Dad tells his stupid jokes:

“Quick! What’s red, white, and blue all over?”

“I don’t know, Dad, what’s red, white, and blue all over?”

“A ghost that we’ve beaten into oblivion!”

And he hopes that his mom is going to be just as proud as Dad says she will be when she sees what they’ve done.

It’s easy, really.

If he doesn’t think about it, if he tucks his mind away and just lets his hands get on with it, then he’s just helping his dad and he can do that. He can do it.

He can do it.

So, no, he doesn’t sabotage what they’ve built. He doesn’t add in a failsafe. He doesn’t loosen a few screws, or overload the element, or untwist a few wires.

Danny does his best and at the end of the day his dad holds up the new and improved Jack o’ Nine Tails and absolutely beams at him. A work of art, he calls it.

Danny doesn’t sabotage it then and he won’t sabotage it later, because it’s a work of art. This is what he and his dad built. Together.

Danny can’t help but grin back, happiness curling in his belly even as it gives a sickening lurch.

He doesn’t eat dinner that night, he can’t.

He stays downstairs long enough to present the new weapon to Mom—very pointedly ignoring Jazz’s look—and then he heads upstairs. There’s an English essay he needs to get started on, after all.

He doesn’t miss the look Mom and Dad share, the fond tenderness, the love, the hope, all directed at him.

He’s happy.

They’re happy.

They’re proud of him.

And despite it all, he had fun today!

When he lays down on his bed, he smiles and he can’t stop the laughter bubbling up as he thinks about his dad. At one point, he had been holding up a circular piece of metal he’d cannibalised from the lamp shade to his eyes, moving it back and forth as he pulled his funny faces, and some of that full belly laugh creeps back in as he remembers doing the same back.

He laughs so hard until he cries, and he cries, and he cries.

Today, he and his dad built a weapon.

Tomorrow, it'll be used on him, but that's okay.

It's okay because today, today his dad was proud.

#danny phantom #holiday truce #holiday truce 2023 #jack fenton #angst fic #hope you enjoy!! sorry it's slightly late 😬#and happy holiday truce!!!!

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hopepetal · 9 months

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Hi! It's been a while, hasn't it?

@applestruda, @periwinklemoonlight, and I have been working on arc three of the boatem knights au for quite a while now. We hope you enjoy it :)

At the moment, the second chapter is not ready for posting, so it won't be out for a while.

Boatem Knights AU fic masterlist

Read on AO3!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

His nightmares hadn’t gone away.

Feathers rustling in the wind, Grian gazed up toward the night sky. Sighing heavily, he glanced back toward Pearl’s tent. She had offered for him to join her many times– avians were highly sociable after all, and often slept in the same nest– but he’d refused. He wouldn’t want to wake her up as well.

It didn’t make sense.

Dreams of a desert, of cold silver skin, of red eyes and names and flowers and blood. And every day they’d gotten worse. More vivid.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t something Grian had the energy to figure out right now. He needed sleep.

He stood up and walked back to his own tent, and settled down for what would be another restless night.

And he hadn’t woken up the next day.

Or the day after that.

The first day Grian slept through, Pearl hadn’t been too worried. With how bad her brother’s insomnia could get, it wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to not get enough sleep during the night and then make up for it during the day. She’d checked in on him, of course, and smiled softly at the sight of him curled up in his blankets, wings resting on either side of him as he smushed his face into the pillow.

“He probably just had a rough night,” she mentioned to the others during lunch, “I wouldn’t bother him.”

Mumbo looked up, frowning slightly. “Hasn’t he mentioned having nightmares for a while now? Maybe that’s what’s been keeping him up.”

Pearl nodded, wings fluttering anxiously behind her. “Yeah. The last few months have been rough on him.”

“I think it’s from all the building we have to do,” Scar piped up. “Trying to finish the lodge has been a nightmare.”

“We’re almost done!” Pearl argued, optimistic as ever. “Just a little more, then we’re all set!”

Mumbo slumped back in his seat, letting out a soft huff. “Can’t we just leave it as is? I think it’s perfectly well done.”

Scar raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk. “I think you just don’t like building, mister.”

Mumbo rolled his eyes, though he was unable to hold back a grin. “Well, it’s certainly not my favorite activity. I’d much rather be–”

“–working on your redstone, we know.” Impulse chuckled, shaking his head. “Unless you want to be buried in snow by the time winter comes around, we probably shouldn’t be calling the lodge ‘perfectly well done’.”

Mumbo grumbled a little at that, much to the amusement of the others. “Look, I’ll do my tasks and everything, but I’m not happy about it!”

Pearl laughed, leaning against the table. “You gotta weigh your options, mate. Either build the lodge now, or be wet and freezing during the winter. Which one would you prefer?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

The knights quickly finished lunch after that, making small talk as they cleaned and put away the dishes. The leftovers from lunch were stored away for later, placed in the shed they had built a while back so that the wild animals wouldn’t be able to get into their food.

“Same duties as earlier?” Impulse asked Pearl as they all made their way to the half-finished lodge.

Pearl nodded, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “I don’t see why we would change them. I’ll take on Grian’s duties on top of mine, though I can’t promise I’ll be as fast.”

“Good thing we’re so ahead of schedule, then!” Scar piped up. “It’s a lot easier to focus on one thing instead of a whole bunch of tiny tasks.”

Pearl laughed, her wings fluttering in amusement. “That, and we’re all insanely fast builders. Who would’ve thought?”

Impulse grinned. “Well, I’m just naturally good at everything I do, so I’m not surprised.”

Laughing and joking, the four went about completing their tasks. The sounds of construction filled the air, conversation occasionally popping up alongside it. As the day progressed, it began to get hotter and hotter, construction slowing down as it did so.

Finally, the sun began to set, and their long day of work was called to an end by Mumbo. It was just routine at this point– the knights would work until the sun began to set and then they’d all gather at the west end of camp to watch the sun go down. Mumbo was always the quickest to put away his tools, and today was no different. Impulse and Scar went to join him, while Pearl slipped off to go check on her brother. Just as she had expected, he had barely moved from his sleeping position, only shifted slightly in a likely effort to get more comfortable. She pulled up one of the ottomans, settling down next to his bed.

Reaching out, Pearl gently brushed some hair out of her brother's warm face, smiling slightly. “Heyyy, Griba,” she murmured, softly so that she wouldn't startle him if he wasn't fully asleep, “you doing alright, mate? You've been asleep all day.” No response. He must've been really out of it. “Well, I brought some food and fresh water. It’ll be on the side table for when you wake up– you must be pretty hungry.” She sighed softly, leaning back. “Well, I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow, Griba. I love you.”

Standing, Pearl quietly left the tent and joined the other knights to watch the sun finish setting. She settled down next to Scar, leaning against him with a sigh. The grass was soft against her skin as she sat and tried to relax, breathing in the fresh air and exhaling the anxiety that was building in her chest. Her whole body ached from the exertion of a day spent building, and the cool night air that brushed against her skin and wove through her hair was a welcome relief from the end of summer heat.

Scar glanced over at Pearl, giving her his signature crooked smile. “How’s our sleeping friend holding up?” he asked.

Pearl sighed softly, closing her eyes briefly. “Still sleepin’ the day away,” she answered. “I dropped off some food and water in case he wakes up and needs something. I'm glad he’s getting rest, though. I think I’m gonna keep him from helping us work on the lodge for a bit, though. It can’t be good for him to be exhausted and pushing himself like that.”

“Agreed.” Impulse stretched before running a hand through his hair, carefully avoiding his horns. “It’s hard work we’re doing here, man. Kinda wish Skizz could’ve stayed a little longer to help out, but I guess a man’s gotta do his job.”

“And Tango’s been busy,” Scar added, “apparently he's workin’ on a super secret fly-ification project, whatever that means.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Pearl laughed, Impulse nodding along in agreement. Mumbo’s attention seemed to have been caught by that, and he perked up.

“A project? Do you think he’d let me take a look? I know he had mentioned a few things about combining redstone and engineering and really, it was quite fascinating and we had a truly intriguing discussion on…” Mumbo trailed off, noticing how Pearl and Scar were just staring at him. “...well, Impulse gets me!” he flusteredly got out, and the others began to laugh.

Impulse smiled, chuckling. The light from the setting sun reflected off his piercings, causing them to shine when they caught the light. “That I do, buddy. That I do.”

Mumbo blinked. “Well. Alright, then.”

Pearl stood as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, stretching her wings as the shadows began to grow over the land. “I don’t know about you, but I am absolutely exhausted. I’m heading off to bed. Good night!” She spread her wings and took off, flying low over the ground until she reached her tent. She landed softly, ducking into her tent and changing into her night clothes– soft blue pajamas with stars and little crescent moons.

Sleep called her name, and Pearl felt the weight of exhaustion pulling her down. She climbed into bed, settling on her stomach and wrapping her arms around the soft pillow. She’d just barely closed her eyes before sleep descended like a soft blanket, and she drifted into unconsciousness.

Grian didn’t wake up the next day.

When Pearl woke, her limbs still somewhat sore from the day before, she went to check in on Grian before she started her morning chores. He wasn’t up, which meant he hadn’t woken up during the night and stayed up until dawn (again). Pearl was still a little concerned nonetheless, and rushed through her morning chores so that she could go check on Grian.

When she peeked into his tent, her worry increased at the fact that he hadn’t touched his food or water, and had barely moved from the sleeping position she’d last seen him in. “Griba?” she called softly, “Griba, hey. Are you up?” Upon receiving no answer, she carefully crept forward and placed a gentle hand against his head.

Oh, no.

Grian had a fever.

“Griba.” She gently shook him. “Griba. Grian. Grian. Wake up.” Her voice became more frantic as her brother continued to be unresponsive, anxiety spiking in her chest as she tried to wake him. “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t do this, Grian. Please.”

Still, nothing.

Pearl’s gaze went to the side table, and she stumbled over, grabbing the pen and some blank paper that had been sitting there. Quickly, she wrote down a message to Cub, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she did so.

Cub,

I’ve been sending quite a few letters lately and I hate to bother you once more, but Grian is sick. He isn’t waking up, and he slept all through yesterday as well. When I checked on him this morning, he was burning up. I’ve tried waking him up, but he hasn’t even responded.

Please come as soon as you can.

Pearl

She began folding the paper as she ducked out Grian’s tent, almost running into Scar as she did so. “Ah! Oh, mate, careful!”

Scar laughed softly, pressing his hands to his chest. “You scared me, Pearl!” he retorted, taking a moment to calm himself down. He caught sight of the paper in Pearl's hands. “Sending another letter, are we?” he asked. “More moth mail?”

Pearl, despite the anxiety she was currently feeling, had to smile. Rolling her eyes, she responded, “We’re not calling it moth mail, Scar.” She closed her eyes and breathed out, pushing her magic into the paper. It took the form of a moth, glowing with enchantments, and flew off. She was quiet for a moment with Scar as they watched it fly off, before sighing. “Grian’s sick,” she told him, “and he’s not waking up. I was just sending a letter to Cub to ask him to come up and check on him.”

Scar frowned, humming thoughtfully. “And this isn’t just Grian being Grian?” he asked, but Pearl shook her head.

“He’s not waking up, and he’s running a fever. Which, if he was even responding a tiny bit, would be fine, but he’s not even– it’s like he can’t hear me at all. Normally he’d at least have woken up a little and smacked me away or something, but…” Pearl shook her head. “Nothing. He was just… sleeping.”

“Should we let the other two know?” Scar asked, gesturing with his head over to where Impulse and Mumbo were. They were working on the lodge once more– Mumbo, struggling to walk with the heavy materials and Impulse, carrying as much as he could and encouraging Mumbo on with a smile and kind words.

Pearl nodded, already starting to walk toward them. “Absolutely. C’mon, mate!”

Scar jogged over until he was walking by Pearl's side. “Hey! Mister Mumbo Jumbo! Impulse! Hey!” he shouted, waving his arms over his head. “Over here!”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head slightly. “Scar, no need to shout. They’re right there.” Her wings fluttered anxiously behind her as they approached Mumbo and Impulse. “Hey, you two.”

Impulse set down the logs he had been carrying, and Mumbo did the same before collapsing into the grass. “Heya Pearl,” Impulse greeted, “what’s up?”

“Not good news, unfortunately.” The mood sombered up as soon as those words left Pearl's mouth. “Grian’s sick, and he’s not waking up. I sent a message to Cub, but I’m gonna run to the village real quick to grab some general medicine and such. I meant to get some on the next trip, but…” She trailed off. “Clearly, we need them now.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Impulse offered, to which Pearl shook her head.

“I’ll be flying. It’s faster that way.” Pearl glanced over at Scar, who had joined Mumbo in the grass. “Can you three keep watch over Griba and the camp while I’m gone? Oh, and keep an eye out for a response to the letter I sent to Cub– it’ll be coming back as an enchanted moth, you know what they look like. I don’t think he’ll be sending you a response this quick, but better alert than caught sleeping.” She coughed slightly. “Uh. Excuse the irony of that wording. It’s just a phrase.”

Impulse nodded. “Don’t worry about a thing, Pearl. We’ve got things handled here. Go and get the medicine.”

Scar stood, helping Mumbo up as well. “Yeah! We’ll stop working on the lodge for a bit while this whole thing is goin’ on. Grian’s more important than a building, anyway.”

Pearl heaved a sigh of relief, smiling softly. “Oh, thank you all. This means a lot.” She stretched, spreading her wings and fluttering them slightly before relaxing. “Right. I’ll be off then. Stay out of trouble, ya hear?”

Scar saluted. “Aye aye!”

With that, Pearl took off, flying over the camp and toward the village. Worry settled uneasily in her stomach, squeezing her chest as she tried to not spiral into an anxiety attack. It would not be good to do that while flying, she figured.

Grian would be fine. Grian would be– he was fine, he was just sick and once he got rest everything would go back to normal. They’d continue building the lodge and get it done before winter and then they’d move on to their next adventure.

Yeah.

Everything was going to be fine.

In a house surrounded by much more greenery than the canyon that it sat in, Cub was working on a very dangerous project.

Well, it wasn’t dangerous– as long as he took proper care when he was around it and made sure to wear protective gear, of course. A mask fit snugly over his mouth and nose, and he wore elbow long gloves with his lab coat sleeves tucked into them to make sure there was zero possibility of the subject of his experiment touching his skin.

Holding up the blue-green mold (sculk, the book had called it) up to the light with a pair of tweezers, Cub squinted. It appeared to almost have a sort of heartbeat, he noticed, as it pulsed rhythmically. It might’ve grossed some out, but it made Cub grin. This was so exciting. He had only heard of sculk before, from ancient books and harrowed miners who had narrowly escaped death. To be able to study it like this, up close… it was a dream come true.

Cub jotted down some more notes with one hand, holding up the sculk with his other hand. His attention divided, focus solely locked in on the things he was writing, it was no wonder he got startled by the enchanted paper moth that landed on his desk. He dropped the tweezers with a loud swear, the sculk landing in his lap. No matter– he simply picked it back up with his gloved hands and put it back into its container, sealing it away. He then carefully unfolded the moth, recognizing instantly Pearl's handwriting.

He frowned as he read the letter, before sighing heavily. “I really can’t leave them alone for five minutes, can I?” Glancing back down at his desk, Cub bit his lip, weighing his options in his head. He really had to finish this current experiment in a certain time frame, and Grian was a healthy man (and a Watcher, besides!). He’d be fine if he had to wait for a little while longer.

He went and wrote a response on the back of the letter Pearl had sent, chuckling slightly at how his handwriting compared to Pearl’s.

Pearl,

I’ll be there as soon as I finish up what I was doing. I assume it’ll take me quite some time, so I’ll head out early tomorrow morning. Keep an eye on Grian, give him some medicine and try to get some fluids into him.

Don’t panic. Remember what I’ve been telling you in our letters– take a deep breath, calm yourself, and try not to let your thoughts spiral. You’re doing a great job.

Cub

He carefully folded the paper back up, watching as the magic Pearl imbued into it activated, and the moth sprang to life before fluttering off in the direction it came from. Cub’s sharp eyesight caught the moment it burst into purple sparks of magic and sped off into the distance– “moth mail” always fascinated him. It was clearly a concept Pearl had either made up or been taught, and he’d have to ask her some more questions about it later.

But for now, the sculk called his name.

It took a little longer than expected to finish up the experiment, but Cub always stayed true to his word. The next day, he woke up with the gray light of dawn and gathered his things, taking care to lock his door before leaving.

The sun began to rise as Cub started down the familiar path to the camp.

You know how this story goes, by now.

Grian didn’t wake up the next day.

Pearl did her best to follow the advice in Cub’s letter– give Grian fluids, take deep breaths, try not to spiral, try not to spiral, try not to–

She was fine. She was fine.

…which was why she ended up breaking down into tears when Scar asked her how she was feeling, and felt his arms wrap around her and pull her close. “I’m– I’m sorry, I just–” She gasped for air, squeezing her eyes shut tight as hot tears cooled on her skin. Her hands were trembling as she wrung them together, trying to lean into Scar’s calming presence.

Scar gently shushed her, carefully patting her back between her wings as he tried to soothe her. “It’s a stressful situation, Pearl,” he murmured, his voice quiet and comforting. “It’s okay to be scared. Did you wanna send a letter to Jimmy or something? I’m sure he would be more than willing to come on up for a little bit to help out.” As he spoke, he pulled away from the hug and summoned Jellie, setting the furry blue familiar on Pearl’s lap. “Pet the Jellie. You’ll feel better.”

Pearl smiled weakly through her tears, beginning to gently stroke Jellie’s fur. She felt the tension begin to leave her body as Jellie started purring, her breathing evening out as the cat curled up on her lap. “No… no, Jimmy worries more than I do, I don’t think it would be good to stress him out over this… because it’ll be fine. It’s going to be fine.”

Scar nodded. “Right you are, Pearl. It’s gonna be just fine. G’s just taking a big ol’ nap right now, sleepin’ off that nasty fever of his. Give him a little longer and he’ll be just like new. Cub will help him out and then he’ll get rid of that darn sickness in no time!”

Mumbo, who was sitting nearby, leaned forward. “Scar is right, you know. This isn’t the first time one of us has come down with a nasty illness of some sort. Grian just needs a little care and rest, I’m sure!”

Pearl nodded, taking in deep breaths as she continued to idly pet Jellie, wiping stray tears from her face. “Thanks, Scar. Mumbo. I needed that.”

Scar smiled reassuringly, giving her a thumbs up. “No problem, Pearl.”

Mumbo simply nodded, smiling. “Of course, mate.”

It wasn’t long after that Cub finally walked out of Grian’s tent, his expression kept carefully neutral. “Hey, you three. Pearl, could I speak with you?”

Pearl nodded, anxiety spiking once more as she prepared herself for whatever Cub was about to tell her. “Yeah. Of course. Scar, do you mind…?” She gestured toward Grian’s tent with a slight nod, standing up from where she had been sitting next to Scar in the grass and handing him Jellie.

Scar jumped up as well, brushing off his pants before taking Jellie and quietly dismissing his familiar. “Of course, my dear Pearl! I’ll keep a close eye on G.” Scar ducked into Grian's tent, going to take a seat on the ottoman that had remained pulled up next to Grian’s bed. He settled himself down, letting out a soft sigh and leaning forward.

There was a moment of silence.

“Y’know, G, this isn’t funny anymore.” Scar swallowed dryly, licking his cracked lips. “I’m all for pranks and stuff, but this is going too far. Pearl’s upset, Mumbo is worried, Impulse is trying to keep the other two calm, and I’m…” He shook his head. “C’mon, G. Please.” His voice cracked on the last word. “Please.”

No response. Of course. Grian was asleep, why would he respond?

“I mean, really. It's like you’ve been cursed or something,” he weakly joked, before the thought really hit him. Could Grian have been…?

Scar closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shifted into his vex form.

The smell of magic, powerful and wrong, was so strong Scar nearly gagged. He stumbled back, eyes widening as he realized that the magic was coming from Grian, wrapping around his body and curling around his throat.

Slowly, hesitantly, Scar approached Grian and knelt by the bed. Reaching out, he carefully opened one of Grian’s eyes with his hand.

Purple.

Grian’s eyes were glowing purple.

Scar felt the magic suddenly recede, drawing into Grian like the water being pulled back into the sea. With a sharp inhale, he stumbled back, shifting out of his vex form as he burst out from the tent. “Guys!” he yelled, “guys, something's wrong with–!”

Grian’s magic exploded outwards.

Pearl screamed, lunging forward as she shifted into her Watcher form, wrapping her arms around the only person close enough for her to protect– Mumbo. The two fell to the ground, surrounded by a translucent magic shield that glowed in blue and silver hues. All around them, purple magic swirled and raged like a storm, and all they were able to do was watch as Impulse and Scar collapsed.

Cub was pushed to his knees, vex form flickering as his own shield began to crack around him. The magic howled in a screeching voice, swirling around Cub’s shield in an attempt to break through and take him as well.

“Pearl–!” Mumbo cried out, clinging to her tightly. He was pressed against the ground and could hardly see past Pearl, but what he could see terrified him. Pearl’s shield was beginning to give under the incessant pushing of Grian’s out of control magic, and there was nothing he could do but watch.

Pearl bit out a sob, holding Mumbo close. The strain of fighting against her brother’s magic had her gasping, grabbing for any and all energy she had to pour into the shield around her and Mumbo. Raising her head, guilt and fear filled her chest as she caught sight of Impulse and Scar, limp on the ground. She could only pray that they were okay. That they were alive.

The magic like raging wind reached a peak, screaming so loud Pearl’s sensitive ears ached. And just like that, it was over.

Pearl, Cub, and Mumbo were the only ones awake when their shields came down.

All across the realm, Grian’s magic reached out and pulled others into a deep sleep. A king and his hand, alongside his best soldier. A huntsman. A time wizard, armorer, and a friend of the nearby innkeep. A man who guided others through the mountains. An avian, netherborn, and a man who sold flowers.

One by one, they were surrounded by purple magic, angry and screaming and wanting. And one by one, they all fell asleep.

Grian woke up to impossibly familiar faces and one objective: survive.

He pushed himself up from the ground, shaking his head slightly to clear the fuzz as he looked around at the gathered group. “Welcome to Third Life,” he greeted in a voice that wasn’t quite his own, with words he wasn’t sure how he knew. “You all have three lives. Once you lose your last life, you are out.”

Confusion and concern echoed from those around him, and Grian raised his voice. “When you are on your last life– your red life– you will become hostile. All previous alliances will be broken.”

A deep breath.

“Good luck.”

#my writing #boatem knights au #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #cubfan135 #jellie the cat #hermitcraft fanfic #third life fanfic #third life #hermitfic #trafficfic

457 notes · View notes

highvern · 11 months

Text

Teach Me II

or private tutoring

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: inexperience!dk, experienced!reader, mentions of previous drug use (weed) , oral (m. & f. receiving), cum swallowing, spitting, fingering, making out, strength kink bc he's hot, minor overstim at the end but he's just enthusiastic, fwb, this chapter is pure smut, spreading my DK is a munch agenda

Length: ~3.5k

Note: literally a doozy to write but its done, I have part 3-5 outlined so hopefully they go quicker, lemme know what yall think!

read more here

Tuesday Night Approx. 10:02 PM, DK’s bedroom

Dokyeom has come to the conclusion he’s hallucinating. The hot wet suckle of your mouth against the head of his cock, one hand jerking him in time with the motions of your head while the other gently cups his balls is just too good to be true. The view he’s witnessing is even more proof he’s gone certifiably insane.

You’re knelt between his spread legs at the edge of the bed, shoulders framed by his knees. At some point Dokyeom fell back on his elbows, granting you as much room as possible to do whatever you want as he stares down his body at you. The rhythmic bobbing of your head hypnotizes him, forcing him to fight demons against the urge to wrap a hand in your hair so he has a better view of your mouth working his cock. He thanks himself for having the foresight to at least ask you to take your top off this time, allowing him the pleasure to view the long muscles along your spine flexing, only obstructed by the band of your bra.

You’re the goddess of his dick and Dokyeom is an avid worshiper.

The first and only time he received head involved too much weed (both of them), teeth (hers), and tears (his) for him to enjoy any of it. It had been so unpleasurable he had avoided doing anything since in fear of repeating the experience.

You, however, make him regret not finding you on campus sooner. The genuine enthusiasm and enjoyment that radiates off you as you play with him has an orgasm tumbling towards him faster than he wants. When Dokyeom tries to inform you, hoping you’ll find a way to help him hold off, gasping your name and a broken “I’m gonna;” you respond with a delighted hum and work him harder.

“Holy shiii—,” he whines as you give a particularly harsh suck as he slides further in your mouth, tip nudging the back of your throat softly. A moan of your own shooting pleasurable snaps down his wrecked nerves.

He’s done for when your eyes peek open and find his.

Every muscle in his body clenches, his hips bucking up into your mouth despite his effort to remain grounded. Ears filled with the sound of his blood rushing, eyes squeezed tight. He knows he’s blabbering whatever praises have sat on the tip of his tongue since you started between deep desperate groans, but Dokyeom can’t hear a single thing. All he can focus on is how his cum shoots into your waiting mouth as you continue pumping him till his balls are empty.

You swallow his load with ease, popping off his dick to allow your tongue to dart and catch the dribble at the corner of your lips. If that’s how good it's gonna be everytime, Dokyeom is afraid he might fall in love with you from a simple blowjob.

“Good?” You ask with a cheeriness that seems a little out of place given that you’ve sucked his soul out.

Dokyeom’s brain function borders non-existent so he just grunts an affirmation from where he’s crashed on the sheets of his bed, tossing an arm over his eyes as he comes back to earth.

Your giggling has him cracking open his eyes lazily to find you resting your chin on his muscular thigh, smile wide, dangerously close to his softened cock.

“Are you the dick whisperer or?”

More giggles answer him. You think it's cute how clearly spent he is, not bothering to hide how you affect him, no bullshit bravado some other guys try to pull.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” You coo.

“Well that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

“My only competition is a girl from two years ago, but I’ll take it.”

You hop up next to him on the bed, lying parallel to his body as a comfortable silence settles between you. His eyes follow the steady rise and fall of your chest, gaze locked on how your boobs push against the thin fabric of your bra. Dokyeom just makes out the edges on what must be your stiff nipples poking through the cup. It makes him salivate.

“Can I try?”

“Try what?” You ask, turning your head to look at his face.

Dokyeom rolls over, propping himself up on an elbow to loom over you. His nose traces your jaw, unable to keep his hand from moving across the plane of your belly, thumb burning against bare skin as it dips below the elastic waistband of your leggings.

“Wanna eat you out.”

The gentle kiss he places under your ear is answered with stuttering breath and a subtle nod.

“Should I,” he swallows thickly. “How should I start?”

“Kissing is good.”

His lips leave a trail of gentle pecks across your cheek to your mouth. When your mouths meet, twin sighs leave your noses. You weren’t lying to him when you told him he was a good kisser.

The hand that was tracing the hollow of your hip moves up to your jaw, caressing your cheek and allowing Dokyeom to move your head where he wants it. He tilts your chin up, dragging the tip of his tongue against your plush lower lip. Your mouth opens slightly, allowing wet muscles to meet tentatively.

The vibration of your moan against his lips has his head dipping away.

“Good?”

You mutter a breathless “yes” into his mouth, missing his touch immediately. Your hands plant on the sides of his face, dragging him back in.

You both continue lazily, content in the way your lips meet and hands memorize the other's features. But Dokyeom longs to learn the ins and outs of your body, hoping he can make you feel at least a fraction of the pleasure you've gifted him twice now.

When he tries to disconnect your lips this time, you chase him. Pulling him back in with a maddening drag of teeth, followed by the dull sting of your nails against his shoulder. Your free hand moves his from your jaw down to your chest, giving him an encouraging squeeze to start playing with you.

Hesitating, his large palm gently fondles your breast, thumbing the edge of the lacy fabric hiding you from view. He isn’t doing much other than letting the weight of it settle in his hand. When you break away your gaze to watch his reaction, Dokyeom’s face is set in determination.

“You can do more.”

At your permission he gives a gentle squeeze, it’s sweet but not what you need.

“Like this.”

Gently brushing him away, you flip the cup of your bra down to expose yourself to the chill of the air. Dokyeom eyes follow with rapt attention, hypnotized by the swell of your chest and the contrasting skin. He stares as you grab his hand again, moving it back to cup your breast. From the gaps between his fingers, ribbons of your flesh are still visible. When the calloused side of his thumb rolls across your nipple this time, you shudder.

“If you want,” you gasp, “you can use your mouth.”

That was all he needed to dive for your chest. Immediately opening his mouth to cover your areola, sucking with too much enthusiasm.

“Wait!” You wince, shoulders caving inward at the zap of discomfort.

Dokyeom jumps back like he’s burnt, terrified expression blooming on his features.

“It’s okay! But you need to build up to it, ya know?”

“Like how?”

“Kiss my neck, keep using your hands. But make me want it first and it’ll feel a lot better.”

“Make you…want it? But can’t I just give it to you?”

“Think of it like…” you rack your brain, but when the flex of his biceps catch your eye you continue. “when you workout! You need to warm up first or you’ll get hurt, right?”

“Yeah?” he questions, still unsure.

“So you gotta warm me up first. Just start gently and then… you can get a little rougher.”

“Okay, okay.” He mutters to himself. “Gentle then rough, make you want it. Got it.”

He moves his face back to your chest, rubbing his lips across the smooth skin at the hollow of your throat. Letting his tongue dip out, Dokyeom etches a scorching path along the dips and curves of your chest. He tentatively covers your bare breast with his hand again, squeezing gently while his thumb catches your sensitive nub.

“Much better,” you sigh dreamily, entranced by the featherlight touches he’s teasing along your skin.

“Can I take your bra off?”

His question is barely intelligible since he mutters it into your skin, around his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Without a word, you arch up and move your hands behind your back. One day he’ll insist you teach him to take it off himself but right now he zeros in on the way you’re pushing into his mouth as the fabric falls limp around your chest, exposing more soft skin for him to explore. You shuck the offending garment off your body, and toss it over the side of his bed.

Completely bare from the waist up under him, Dokyeom props himself up to catalog the masterpiece that is you. Hair spread across his sheets beneath you, a few rogue tendrils twist below your chin and tickle your neck. Eyes hooded lowly, pupils blown wide. There's a faint blush spreading across your cheeks and down your front, making your skin glow mesmerizingly; and your lips, bruised and swollen, are parted around your shallow pants.

Yeah, he can definitely get used to seeing you like this.

“What?”

“You’re just… wow.”

“Wow?”

“You’re half naked in my bed after destroying my dick, please be nice to me.”

You respond with a shy smile as you drag him back in. He leaves more kisses across your face and down your chin before getting back to work.

Experimenting, Dokyeom finds your tit. His teeth graze against the puckered bud sucked into his mouth, nipping it gently before laving his tongue across the sore flesh soothingly. He’s rewarded with an agonizing grind of your hips against his thigh, savoring the scalding heat of your pussy through the thin fabric separating you.

“Again.” You tell him.

So he does.

He memorizes every dreamy sigh, satisfied moan, and sobbed hiccup released from your mouth. He also memorizes exactly what he does to deserve them. You like when he darts the tip of his tongue out to guide himself from one area to the next. Huffing when he blows a cool stream of air on the wet trail, giving rise to a litter of goosebumps. If he scratches his teeth on the more sensitive skin of your nipples or underside of your breast, you’ll hiss a sharp breath and twist your fist in the sheets beside you, back arching for more. If he plays with both of your nipples simultaneously, engulfing one between his lips and lapping with his tongue while his hand pinches and pulls the other, you’ll tremble in his hold and cry his name hoarsely.

He really likes that one.

“Good?”

You’d think he was teasing if it wasn’t for the trickle of insecurity that seeps into his voice.

“Great,” you praise, eyes shut against the pleasure you’re receiving. “You should take my pants off.”

“Really?”

“Want you to see how wet you made me.”

He chokes on his own saliva, coughing against you.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes are watering and his face is red as he catches his breath.

“Oh my god!” Your eyes go wide with worry.

When he finally calms himself, he pins you with a stern look.

“You can’t just,” he huffs. “say stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you’re making me horny?”

“Exactly like that! God, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“So you don’t wanna hear how much I want you to fuck me?” You whisper in his ear, lips dragging against the sensitive shell of his ear.

“No,” he swallows, your words decimating his brain and all common sense. “I do, I just, fuck.”

The last word he groans in response to you stuffing his hand between your spread thighs. The crotch of your leggings are soaked, clinging to the lips of your pussy thanks to your previous movement against his leg.

“Can you feel it?” You pant in his ear. “How wet I am for you?”

The dirty words strike a cord. He did this; his kisses and caresses teased so much of your arousal of you that it’s leaking through your panties, past your leggings to soak his fingers.

Eyes drifting shut to focus on the slick coating his palm, Dokyeom lets his hand dip lower to push against where he thinks your clit is. The pads of his finger ghosting a tight circle of the digit at the top of your mound. His chest threatens to burst with pride when your hips stutter into his palm.

“Please,” you whimper.

It breaks his heart to remove his hand but he aims to make up for it by stripping off your pants in a rush. Dokyeom nearly rips the material apart when it catches around your thighs but he uses his strength to lift your hips, pushing them down your legs and off you like he has a personal vendetta against them. Your underwear comes off as well, tossed over his shoulder next to your forgotten bra and shirt.

Dokyeom lies between your splayed legs, chest flat with the bed as his hands hook under your knees and push your legs up to spread you before him. Your inner thighs are glistening, smeared with your own arousal that leaks from your cunt, lips swollen and flushed, clit peeking out from under your mound. A wet spot darkens the fabric of his sheets below you, increasing in size as your entrance squeezes around nothing. His nose is full of your heady scent, mouth watering for a taste.

He dives in while his brain sings his new life motto: gentle then rough, make you want it. Gentle then rough, make you want it.

Using his knowledge of what worked well on your chest, he blows a cool breath against your hot center. Dokyeom watches as you mewl above him, head falling back as your spine arches. Barely there kisses tease the sensitive skin of your thigh next to his head, punctuated by sharp nips of teeth leaving bruises blooming bright red in their path.

Dropping his hands from your knees but leaving your legs on his shoulder, he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, granting him unobstructed access to your most sensitive parts. He feels like a pervert; a voyeur, staring in awe at the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. He knows he’s only seen one in real life (yours) but no one else’s will ever compare.

Once Dokyeom has taken his fill, and you’re at your wits end above him, he uses the tip of his tongue to score a path from your dripping hole to your clit; moaning at the taste covering his tongue.

“More!” you whine from above, voice thick want.

“You said to make you want it.” He rasps, face still buried between your legs, mapping every ridge and dip.

“I do!”

“Let me play with it.”

Dokyeom signs his requests with a firm lick to your clit against the flat of his tongue.

“Ahh!” You croak, convulsing from the sudden simulation. One hand flying to his hair to keep him in place.

Dokyeom is all too happy to continue, lapping indecently at your pussy. In his opinion, feeling your essence coat his chin and cheeks as he works you is almost as satisfying as having his cock in your mouth. Seeing you get off above him clicks why you were so enthusiastic when the roles were reversed. He could live and die eating your pussy without complaint.

The rush of pleasure has your thighs attempting to crush his skull. When he pulls your legs apart brutishly you arch again, turned on at the thought of him using his muscles to pin you down and leave you at his mercy. He folds you in half easily, hands pushing the back of your thighs up and out his way.

Since his hands are occupied with pinning your legs in place, one of you attempts to assist him. The hand not fisted in his hair shoots to your pussy, spreading your lips for him and directing him to your clit. Dokyeom doesn’t hesitate to tease your nub framed between your fingers. The occasional brush of his drenched lips or pointed tongue against your hand makes your head fuzzy.

Dokyeom feels you snatch one of his hands away from your leg, pulling it to your face. You suck two of his slender fingers into your mouth, moaning when they press down on your tongue causing you to drool around them. Dokyeom opens his eyes to gape at the vulgar display, hips twitching against the bed when your eyes meet his.

Holy shit.

He’s torn between wanting to stretch you open around the digits you're currently lapping at and letting you continue, imagining it's his cock between your lips. Fortunately for you he doesn’t ponder his choice for too long. Pulling his hand away, his eyes stay trained on yours as he reaches under his own chin to circle your hole. The mix of saliva and the juices of your pussy let him slide in easy enough, silky inner muscles eager to pull him deeper.

“Spit on it,” you beg, eyes glassy.

He swallows harshly. If he was capable of any thought other than how sexy you are, he’d kick himself for how he let your first time together play out. Virginity be damned, he could have cum from this alone.

Dokyeom is more than willing to give you whatever you desire so he pulls away just enough to spit harshly on your clit, watching the bead race to where his fingers spread you, allowing it to disappear inside the rim of your entrance as he pumps his arm. He fumbles to reattach his mouth to your clit, lashing against the nerves as he stuffs you full; desperate to have you come on his face.

You're a moaning mess above him, hair matted to your sweaty forehead, hands threatening to rip the sheets apart as you fist them.

“Give me another one,” you instruct, immediately granted your wish.

All you can do is gawk at Dokyeom below you as he brings you to your end with embarrassing speed. Every muscle in your body is pulled taunt, threatening to break any second as tears fill your vision. Your orgasm right there but just out of reach. But when you catch the way Dokyeom is humping against the bed, you snap. You don’t care that his roommate might still be home as you throw your head back with a sob, tears spilling down your face as endorphins blaze through your veins. Your mind is incinerated, vision filled fuzzy with fireworks. You can’t breathe as you gush into his mouth, thighs locked around his head and threatening to suffocate him.

To his credit, Dokyeom doesn’t stop despite the way you thrash below his mouth. If anything, his efforts increase, only encouraged by your shaky moans and shaker thighs. He snags both your ankles in one palm, stretching your legs up and over his head as far as can before pushing them back into your chest to twist you in a V. You get impossible tighter with the shift as he continues to stuff your clenching entrance while he licks your clit, a mess of spit and arousal pooling between your cheeks. You have to pull him away by his hair, interrupted several times by him diving back in to suck up your juices, fingers pushing more and more out of you to drip down his wrist. When you whine and tell him it's too much he finally relents with a gentle kiss and one last thrust before releasing your legs and resting his cheek on your thigh.

You both lay there in silence, panting against one another. Dokyeom kisses back up to your face, dropping sweet pecks to the tops of your thighs, across your hip bones to your belly button where he lets his nose trace up to your sternum and finally to your chin. When you open your eyes you find him staring at you sleepily.

“Hi,” he says, voice thick.

“Hi,” you smile.

He dips to press one last kiss to your lips before pulling you into his arms, pillowing your head on his bicep and brushing his other hand through your tangled hair. He ignores the way his sticky cock throbs against his leg, focusing on caring for you rather than himself.

“Good?” He mumbles against your forehead, lips resting on your hairline.

“I think you’re lying about never having done that before.”

“Scouts honor, you’re the first.”

“Honored. Glad our first tutoring session was so successful.”

First? He thinks.

“There’ll be more?”

“Well, yeah,” you whisper, suddenly bashful in case he’s no longer interested.

“Sweeeeeet!” he whoops.

You roll your eyes at his boyish response but feel yourself smile anyway. If he can learn to fuck you as well as he eats you out then you’re in for a ride.

#svthub #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #🫡 highvern

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lynnlovesthestars · 11 months

Note

Hi! I’m new to your blog and have been loving all of your works!

If you’re comfortable with it, I was wondering how you think Astarion would react/feel about a virgin tav/reader who went through SA when they were younger, and wish to wait until they are both completely ready and comfortable with being intimate?

Hii, I can definitely do it, though i will merge it with another ask I received- asking to write hcs about Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

I will say, making it with the hc has been a little easier on me, usually when i write about SA i spend an insane amount of time making sure i'm comfortable and you (readers) are as well, and i hesitate a lot before publishing it *(queue up scars and blood, that I wrote on an impulse after a nightmare, and it took me a solid week before publishing it)*

ANYWAYS.

ofc I hope this will be of comfort to you, and it won't trigger you.. sometimes all we want is to find solace into our favourite characters, so i wish tonight this will in a way comfort you...

and if anyone needs to vent, or talk, feel free to hit up my dm's, they are a safe space for anyone and i'll always offer up comfort.. we don't need to struggle alone, and sometimes being heard is what we need to make a new step forward<3

As always, my little stars, excercise kindness! we don't know who's gonna pass by this, and we don't know how hard it can be for them.

This being said, I hope you'll like it!

Headcanon: Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

Pairing: Astarion x reader. Warnings: mentions of past trauma and SA. wc: 1.7k

-He starts suspecting something about it around the time of the tiefling party. He had offered to sneak out while everyone was asleep to "enjoy yourselves", but you refused right away. He definitely picked up some involuntary movement you did that told him there was more to the "I'm not ready". You probably flinched or jerked away, usually it would go unnoticed, but Astarion could recognize the subtle harshness hidden behind your reaction.

-He doesn't want to pry into it, as much as he needed to know as much as possible about you- he says for the sake of his undead skin- he wasn't entirely confident you trusted him enough to share your past. Also he wasn't sure he could handle someone confiding in him, but he would never admit it. At the end of the day, all he knew about social interaction were faint memories of his magistrate life, or means to survival. He simply wasn't sure he could have the empathy to deal with someone else's emotions, both in good and in bad.

-When you meet the gur, and you start peering into his past, he can't hide the very obvious rock in the shoe, Cazador and his spawn life, and it is because of the gur that you actually open up to him. When he starts going deeper and deeper into Cazador's orders to him and his repulsion towards sex, you do feel like you can share something so intimate, that's been heavy on you, well since it happened.

-The first time you mention it though, you are very blunt.

-"And honestly I don't know anything else besides disgust for it" He'd admit as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Astarion" You'd start, you wanted to hold his hand to comfort him, cause that kind of pain you knew. "I understand how you feel though. If you need—" He cut you short, anger was bubbling quickly in his stomach. You swore his face almost reddened in anger as he raised his voice.

"No, you don't" He was one sound shirt from hissing at you. "You cannot understand what it feels like" He'd sneer at you. "No one can understand what it feels like to be stripped of your bodily autonomy". In a way the harshness in his voice was like a slap to your face, cause you did in fact know. From the other, you didn't expect your brain to beeline directly towards that sealed drawer in your brain where you tried to hide the haunting memory.

“I went through it myself, you shithead” You got up, uncaring of whatever reaction he could have in that moment, and you just left.

-He was taken aback, on different levels, both because of your sudden shift in mood, because of the blunt reveal, and deep down because he was sorry, though again he’d never admit it out loud.

-You ignored him for the rest of the day, avoiding his stare and disappearing in your tent right after you were done setting camp, and that unsettled him so much that he was weighing the possibility of apologizing cause, of course, he didn’t know.

-You skipped dinner, and even when everyone else was asleep, you didn’t come out from your tent to take your usual nightly walk. The pang of guilt was becoming more like a stab as he saw the light in your tent still burning, and the faint shadow of you moving around restless.

-He prepared a peace offering, a bowl of the leftover stew, as he had to muster the guts to apologize.

-”Sorry, I was an asshole earlier, I brought you food” He blurted out right after he knocked on the wooden support of the tent, and he was surprised when you still let him in.

-Initially it was awkward, cause you were eating and not saying anything, but after a while he mustered up the courage to offer his shoulder to you. “If you even wish to talk” He’d say.

-You told him a bit of what happened, without going too much into detail, since you were still shaken from the memories that resurfaced.

-Since then he started to learn your boundaries: how to catch your attention without startling you, what were triggering topics for you, how you liked physical touch, and how it triggered you as well.

-In a way he becomes very protective of you, especially if you open up more often about your trauma, and you can see it.

-He made sure everyone respected your boundaries, whether it was Gale with his weave thing pulling you too close, or a stranger breathing on your neck, he was always ready to remind them of their place.

-”Don’t you see our dear captain doesn't want to be that close?!” “Keep your hands to yourself, they don't like being grabbed by the wrists” “Get away from her, before I stab you”

-He noticed how you always double checked the perimeter of the camp before the sun would set, and before getting in your tent you’d always look around in the distance, trying to spot if something was out of place. So he joined you in your routine, helping you check around and make sure you were ready in case anything could have happened.

-As you get closer, and you both open up more to each other, he even suggests he moves his tent closer to yours. “I can keep an eye around” Was his explanation, when he first brought it up.

-And it helped so much with your sleep, you felt a little safer.

-If you didn’t feel safe at night, he’d suggest putting your tents together into one. Maybe it was a way to keep you closer, or he needed reassurance, but he made sure you knew you could place your bedroll anywhere as far or as close to him as you liked.

-Eventually as your bond would deepen and deepen, and you’d grow fond of each other, you found yourselves rediscovering your touch together. It started with your fingers tapping on his arm as you were walking, or a strand of your hair being pulled behind your ear. Some nights you’d sit close in your tent, and would hold hands, caress each other’s cheeks, and slowly even reach out for a kiss or two.

-It was a slow process, where you really got to know each other like no one else ever did. You could read each other like a book, yet you never shied away from asking each other for consent for anything.

-”Can I hold your hand” “Can I kiss your cheek” “Can I rest my head on your chest”

-The thing you both struggled with the most, was falling asleep holding each other. You’d panic very quickly when you would feel your chest becoming tighter. He’d move away as quickly as possible, and give you the space you needed.

-When he confesses he has been falling for you, it’s time to approach the very delicate topic of sex. You opened up about the fact that you wanted to wait ‘till you were ready, and he agreed without hesitation. Of course because he understood where you came from, he never asked for any help either, if he’d feel like he needed some release, he’d disappear for a bit and deal with it himself, without making you feel like a burden.

“I just want to make sure we are on the same page on this” You’d say as you crossed your arms, almost as if you wanted to fold yourself in and away. “If you want to have sex, I can’t right now” You’d start saying, but stop on your tracks for a second. “Wait, not that I can’t. I don’t want to have sex at the moment” You’d correct yourself, confident in your statement, he wasn’t even thinking about it, though he respected completely.

“I get it, and it’s okay my love” He’d say, patting your shoulder, and wondering whether he wanted to hold your hand or kiss it, he wanted to let you know he truly understood. “I don’t want to either” He smiled, and in that moment it was like both you two finally breathed. You’d reach for his hand to hold it in yours.

“It’s not because of you though” You wanted to explain to him, you were so close it was something you were ready to share, especially since you were slowly walking towards a different level of intimacy together, he had to know. “I want to do it when we are both ready”

“I understand, my sweet, there’s no need for explanations” He’d smile again, one of his fangs slightly poked out against his lip. “You said you don’t want sex yet, so it’s no”

“I’m a virgin” You’d blurt out, and that was something he didn’t entirely expect.

“Oh” He’d say at first, but as he noticed your cheeks slowly warming up, he pulled you closer to him, his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, I don’t care about it” He’d exhale. “As long as it’s you, I don’t care about anything”

-When you reach Baldur’s Gate and finally you settle in the elfsong tavern, you made sure you always had a corner of time dedicated to helping each other relearn touch.

-You'd lay next to each other in different levels of nakedness depending on how you felt at the moment, and you'd spend your time tracing each other's features. Whenever you'd feel comfortable enough to venture into a new thing, he'd ask for permission.

-"Would you feel comfortable if I touched your hips?" "Can I trace your scars with my fingers?” “May I pull you closer?”

-You didn't fight time, you didn't rush towards sex. It came slowly and it was a process full of ups and downs. Some attempts ended up with you both sobbing, too overwhelmed. Other's ended up with panic attacks. Eventually though, after a lot of work together, you reached a point where you'd be able to make love.

-it was a very soft moment between you two. It involved a lot of comforting, kisses and patience, but it was something so profound, it wasn't only about shared pleasure, but it was about connecting your bodies and your souls. In a way it was like a wedding for you two it was the peak of trust you could have with each other.

-He'd whisper so many times how proud he was of you, how much he loved you, and how glad he was that you were the one that would spend their life with him.

-Tears eventually arrived, they were the tears of two souls that finally had reclaimed a bit of their freedom. It was the cries of someone that was finally healing.

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jd-loves-fiction · 5 months

Text

𝐎𝐩𝐢𝐚

n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable—their pupils glittering, bottomless and opaque—as if you were peering through a hole in the door of a house, able to tell that there’s someone standing there, but unable to tell if you’re looking in or looking out.

✦ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Sir Gawain x GN!Reader

✦ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut + fluff

✦ 𝐰𝐜: 2.2k

✦ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Minors DO NOT INTERACT thanks. also DONT USE SALIVA AS LUBE THIS IS THE MIDDLE AGES WAAAAHH

✦ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Anyway I havent written anything in a hot second, especially smut, so i might've lost my touch but this man makes me insane. Hope its still enjoyable anyway and im working on some fluffy stuff as well whoop enjoy :)

Stupid quest. Stupid forest. Stupid rainwater puddle.

You didn't see it – you were too damn busy staring into those gorgeous brown eyes of his, lashes lowered ever so slightly in a way so tender it might as well have been what knocked you over.

“Oh goodness.” Sir Gawain exhales a second after the splash, arms reaching for you a little too late. Turns out he’d been lost staring at you as well. “A-Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I–” You start to deny it but think better of it. It’s Gawain, he’d know the answer just from looking at you. “I’m cold. And wet. And tired.”

“I see. Let’s find ourselves a place for the night, yes? The storm from last night might be coming back.” He tells you, reaching out a large hand to pull you up. You take it without hesitation.

Quickly finding yourselves a damp and dingy little cave to pass the night in, Gawain gets to work starting a fire as you shiver uncontrollably.

“You know–” He begins, fumbling with two rocks and a handful of dryish branches, looking up at you for a moment, “You look good, all soaking wet.”

The warmth of his gaze sweeps over your form, lingering on your shaking shoulders, passing by the water dripping off your linen shirt and how your arms curl around yourself to keep the heat in – heat he stokes with that cheeky look, the quickness of his breath, the biting of his lovely, soft, bottom lip…

A spark goes off, catching fire to the branches, cutting the tension like a hot knife over butter. But it does not dissipate, the fire does not cool, it merely wanes to a simmer.

“I bet you’d look even better.” You blurt out, just to get the last word in before sitting by the flames, not entirely aware of what you’ve just said and where his beautiful, hasty mind would take your words. Then again, you’re much more concerned with not freezing to death.

“Trying to warm up with wet clothes isn’t going to do you any good. It isn't going to do anything at all, really.”

“What do you suggest, then?” You sigh, knees tucked to your chest, sitting opposite the dashing young knight.

“You should take off whatever clothes are wet and let them dry by the fire.” He begins shrugging off his thick wooly cape to lay on the stone floor beside him, “And sit close to me – we can share body heat.” he adds on quickly, as if he hasn't made his intentions with you clear enough throughout this journey already.

You’re not sure when it started, when his dark eyes began wandering, when his touches started lingering, or even when you started doing the same. But it’s clear to the two of you; the want– the need too transparent to hide.

There’s more to it though, for you at least. It would be almost too easy to dive into him otherwise. Like a nymph’s bewitching calls into murky waters.

But it could never be that easy. Not with the one they may one day call King. That and his womanizinging reputation.

Expecting anything other than a purely lustful encounter out of this would be foolish to say the least, but perhaps you are a fool. Because the way he looks at you; the way he has been looking at you since– whenever you started noticing; makes you feel as if there might be a chance.

So you do as he suggests, stripping down to the basics under his unwavering gaze, shuffling over to his side and nuzzling against him.

Questions swirl endlessly within your mind while leaning on Gawain's warm body, his shirt so thin you could almost perfectly imagine what he'd look like without it in your mind's eye.

But then, those eyes, clear as spring water in their intentions, cage you in with their stare and suddenly you feel as if everything must be laid out plainly, “What are your intentions with me, Sir Gawain?”

The look on his face nearly makes you regret it, fearing you may have offended him, but surely he’s aware of his reputation – surely he must understand.

After a beat he exhales with a slight smile as his large hand comes around to your shoulder, “Are they not clear?”

“Clear as they may be, I like things to be absolutely transparent, especially when it comes to men of your… caliber.” He hums in acknowledgement with a smirk, before it slowly slides off his face, replaced with a thoughtful expression so rarely seen it could be possession.

“I understand what you mean, love. But, in truth, I cannot answer you as of yet.” At the inquisitive look you give him he begins trying to explain himself, “It is that… Well, I am to be King somewhat soon, I assume. So it would be reckless for me to act as carelessly as I once did. But then also, I do not yet know what my intentions are – beyond tonight, that is.” Your face warms slightly at his suggestive tone as his hand drifts down your naked back, “All I know, is that you intrigue me. Greatly. If anything, I know– I feel as if… once will not be enough…”

A dark hand of long, slender fingers lifts your chin to meet his fathomless stare, looking deep into your eyes and beyond that – to your vulnerable soul.

“I feel… the same.” You speak, suddenly breathless as your face nears his subconsciously, giving in to his siren call.

Lips meeting like a spark to a fire, a beginning. His hands wander over you, reverent, gentle, as yours grasp at the front of his tunic, urging him as close as humanly possible – as if close isn't nearly close enough.

The kiss grows fiercer, a push and pull of soft pink muscles attempting to gain control, before being forced to part, open around heaving breaths while eyes grow hazy with lust– no, yearning. Gawain draws back to shed that bothersome tunic before his hands attach themselves to your hips to pull you onto his lap. The ease with which he does it has you grinding down instantly, hands running over sweat-slick caramel skin.

His dark curls bounce as he tosses his head back under your movements, desperate for some control of the primal urges suddenly overloading his brain – to fuck you without mercy, to ruin you for anyone else – but no, that’s not how he wants this to go.

“God above, you're beautiful.” He breathes, hands stilling your hips to let his eyes sweep over your features slowly. The intensity of his gaze makes you squirm and the strength in his hands warms your inside more than the fire ever could.

Burying your face in his gorgeous, exposed neck you speak so low not even God could hear, “Shut up and take your pants off.”

You feel him smile against your hair, laying a kiss against it before drawing away to do as you ask, somewhat clumsily, but earnestly all the same. Sitting still on his cloak, you watch him avidly, eyes catching on every new inch of dawn-hued skin revealed.

The singularity of the moment strikes you suddenly; back at the castle, amongst duties and expectations, this would never be possible – this calm, this undemanding rhythm. You have no place to be, no one to meet, so you can just be. Together.

“Where did you go?” He whispers, caressing your face with a softness undeserving of a knight’s strength, making your eyes focus back on his features and immediately surge forward to connect your lips to his, “Nowhere important.”

Gentle as a breeze Gawain lays you back, body between your legs and arms beside your shoulders. His prominent nose brushes yours softly, sensually as he parts your legs even further, “Good. I want you here with me. For this will not be a moment you’ll want to ever forget.”

“Oh,” You chuckle teasingly, back arching almost subconsciously against his warm, wide chest while his hips start moving against yours, “You’re sure of that, are you?”

“Your reaction tells me all I need to be sure.” He replies, so cocksure you’re suddenly reminded of who he’d been before the Green Knight had showed up proposing a ridiculous game – knowing he hasn't changed completely is oddly comforting.

“You talk too much… Sir.” You grumble in lieu of remaining silent and further inflating his ego, getting a raised brow at the tacked-on title.

“But you like it, don't you? Don't lie to me, it's unbecoming.” The corners of his lovely lips twitching with the effort not to laugh. Quick as a flash, your legs lock around his waist, pulling his center down to yours and he’s forced to take a breath from between his teeth as his long lashes flutter, “Like I said; you talk too much.”

Gawain bites his tongue – there will be plenty of time to get back at you once you’re mindless and thoroughly spent – he reasons. For now, he just needs to get you there.

One large hand settles at the base of your throat as his luscious lips travel down your neck in flickers of contact that have you arching against his firm grip for more. Soft as a feather, he pulls away your undergarments as needed to kiss at your chest; sweetly at first and then so wet and sloppy you’re left gasping and whimpering, hands grasping at his strong shoulders for purchase.

Grabbing you below the knees, he gently pries your legs open while kissing down your body until you're tingling and trembling all over wishing he'd just get to it.

“Gawain…”

“Hmm? Are you going to beg? Go on.”

You pout petulantly; no you won't beg, he'd enjoy that far too much. But you can, however, tempt him into doing what you want.

“Gawain…” you moan seemingly helplessly, nails brushing his skin making him shiver in delight, “won't you take me? It's clear you want to.”

“It's clear, is it?” He chuckles breathlessly, ceasing completely to just watch you and it makes you want to smack the back of his head in frustration.

Breathing deep, your eyes move over him carefully, appreciating every inch of delicious, exposed skin so many yearn to catch a glimpse of before…

“Gawain,” you raise an amused brow, surely he noticed… “Yes?”

Oh, he's far too good at playing dumb.

You raise yourself until your lips barely brush his, brown hues watching you closely down the length of his nose before your hand boldly presses down on his stiff cock and those eyes glaze over before rolling back in overwhelming delight, “I'd call this pretty obvious.”

Hand squeezing in pulses, you're granted a low groan followed by a deep sigh, “God, you're too much. I cannot– wait.”

Gawain's mouth devours yours, hungry as a wolf, pushing down once more while his lithe fingers graze the inside of your thighs, grinning at what he finds. Cheeks warming at how your mouth chases his as he pulls back, he gives his palm a full lick before wrapping it around his throbbing cock and stroking. The flames illuminate this length of his gorgeous neck like an old painting and your tongue longs to glide over it and follow the path of his sweat so deeply you almost miss him speaking, “Will you beg now?”

You groan most crudely, far over his games and his perfect face and his disarming voice and his damned haughtiness– your hand grasps the curls at the back of his head, delighting in his whimpered response, “Take me now or so help me–,” your not proud of the way your voice wavers but you’re both past that now.

Gawain’s lips connect with yours surprisingly softly, leaning his forehead against yours and lining himself up with your center, “Shh, I’ve got you, just relax.”

A kiss to your hairline is the only warning you get before he starts pushing into you, slow as can be and yet still you cry out at the feeling in between the kisses he places to your lips to offer some comfort.

“There we go, breathe for me. It’ll feel better soon…”

“Gawain…” You moan, clinging onto him as the bite of initial pain melts into pleasure.

Sucking on your neck, his hips sway against yours rhythmically, wavering only when your nails dig into his sides while moaning desperately in his ear, “Gawain please…”

“Now–” his breathing stutters while his hips buck suddenly, pressing a collection of whispered curses from both of your mouths, “Now you beg?”

“Just please fuck me, please.”

The way his cock twitches inside you tells all you need to know on how he feels about your words.

Curls brush the side of your neck as he reaches to bite at your lobe, grunting and moaning into it while speeding up his hips so much your own moans become stuttered and desperate.

As the end nears, Gawain presses his lips to yours, nearly missing in his eagerness, and opens his mouth as if to say something but no words leave him, only a loud moan of your name ringing across the cave just as your body does the same.

Your mind is eerily quiet as you come down, blinking eyes you don't recall closing and feeling the next king breathe against your naked chest while gathering himself. After a moment he raises himself on shaky arms to gaze down at you, hand reaching to brush a stray hair from your cheek and sighing as if suddenly, all is right in the world.

#sir gawain #green knight #dev patel #dev patel x reader #green knight x reader #gawain x reader #sir gawain and the green knight #the green knight #sir gawain x reader #gawain smut #green knight smut #smut

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prettyinpurplelights · 2 years

Note

hii ur writing is SOO SOO good im practically going insane over ur mbappe writings. could u pls write smth about mbappe being sick and reader having to take care of him but he's just enjoying being a brat and clinging to reader ? like imagine taking care of this manchild. imagine the HAVOC he would wreck if he didn't get a kiss from his gf

HOUR OF NEED

Heyy, thank you for your lovely words, means so much 🫶🏿 hope this is okay!

“You’re leaving me here all by myself? This is your fault.” Your boyfriend sniffles, pouting as you put on your jacket, ready to leave the house.

“I warned you about kissing me last week when I was sick.”

“But your mouth was so nice and warm.”

“And now here we are.”

“So you’re going to abandon me in my hour of need?”

“Kylian, it’s just a cold. You’ll survive.” You roll your eyes.

“I hope you know those may be your last words to me. Ever! Who knows if I’ll still be alive and breathing when you get back.” He shivers dramatically and you grab your bag, placing your phone in your coat pocket.

“I spent all day yesterday playing nurse Ky, I have to go to the office.”

“And you think if nurses just left their patients before they got better, anyone would recover?”

“You are a ridiculous man Kylian Mbappe. You have a runny nose and a high temperature, just keep hydrated and take your pills. I’ll see you at 6.” You reach over to kiss his forehead and he rolls over and pulls the covers high over his head.

“You don’t deserve to kiss me.” His voice his muffled under the blankets and you laugh.

“Whatever you big baby.” You call as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

————

“So if we push the campaign from this angle, I think the overall engagement would-“

PING!

Your phone buzzes for the hundredth time in the last 10 minutes since you started giving your pitch to the newest clients at your firm. You reach for your phone to turn it off, apologising profusely, when it starts ringing and you see your boyfriend’s face lighting up the screen.

“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this very quickly, I really apologise.” You hold your hands in a prayer sign before scrambling out of the office with the phone to your ear.

“Kylian, what the hell do you want.”

“Y/N…” his voices sounds strained and breathless, and you immediately begin to worry.

“Kyky? Baby what’s wrong?”

“I just…can you…” He coughs violently and you wince. He really doesn’t sound good, and you feel start to feel a little guilty for leaving him alone. “Can you…come home please? E…Emergency.” He croaks out that last part, as though he doesn’t have the energy to do anything else.

“Oh baby. I’ll be there as soon as I can okay? I’m sorry for not taking you seriously. I’m leaving the office as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” he breathes before hanging up abruptly and you think the absolute worst. Maybe it wasn’t just a cold, maybe it was something worse, and now he’s alone and confused and deteriorating. You head back into the conference room, chewing on the inside of your cheek anxiously.

“Everything okay Y/N?” Your boss asks.

“Yes, ummm, it’s just my boyfriend is really ill right now, and he’s just called me and he doesn’t sound too good so I’m a bit worried that’s all. But we can get this pitch finished up and I’ll go and quickly see him on my lunch break-“

“Kylian is ill?” He says, shocked as if you’d just told him his own mother on was on her death bed. “Oh no, you must go to him right away. We have the PowerPoint and your notes, Lisa can finish your pitch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes of course, I hope he makes a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you so much, and I really am sorry.” You disconnect your laptop from the hdmi cable connected to the project and slide it into your handbag.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, please let us know how he’s doing tomorrow, you don’t have to come in if he’s still not feeling well.” He smiles. You thank him one last time before rushing out of the office and down to the elevator to the underground car park. You barely lock your seatbelt in place before hightailing it out of the building.

“Kylian!” You yell as soon as you make it back into the apartment. You drop your bag at the door and hurry up the steps, taking them two at time. It’s not long before you’re bursting into the bedroom. “Ky, baby what’s wrong? Have your symptoms gotten worse?” You sit on the bed, taking his sweaty face into your hands. “I’m sorry for leaving you baby.”

“You’re back.” He croaks.

“Of course,” you sigh leaning in to kiss him and he lets you this time. “What was so urgent?”

“I…the bistro is out of chicken soup and I really want some chicken soup, I was wondering if you could make some for me please?” You drop his head, and he falls back onto the pillow violently.

“Ouch!” He moans, rubbing his head.

“Kylian…” you close your eyes, your right hand pressing on the bridge of your nose. “Kylian, do not tell me you pulled me out of work because you want FUCKING SOUP!”

“I missed you too?” He pouts.

“Kylian! I was in an important meeting with my boss!”

“The one that’s the PSG fan? I’ll have someone send him some tickets to our next game, he’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes.

“Of course that’s why he let me leave the office without hesistation….but that’s not the point Ky!”

“Look babe, I’m sorry for making you leave work.” He doesn’t look sorry in the slightest and it pisses you off even more. “But I mean…you’re here now? So…”

“So???”

He opens his arms, his eyes wide as he smiles. “Come spend the day in bed with me.” You throw a pillow at him, landing in the space his open arms created, before storming out of the room.

“Where are you going?” He calls out.

“To make YOUR FUCKING SOUP!“ you shout back. “Tu es un putain d’idiot!”

———

You feel someone’s arms wrap around you as you’re stirring the soup and you shrug your shoulders.

“Get off me Kylian.” You mumble.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks, holding you tighter as he presses a kiss into your neck.

“Kylian Mbappe Lottin, I’m within an arms reach of very sharp objects. Get the fuck off me.”

“No.” He insists, burying his head further into your neck. “I want to hug you. I read somewhere hugs and kisses when you’re sick are very healing.” He moves from behind you to stand by your side, his arms around your shoulders instead, leaning forward with his eyes closed and lips pursed. You shove the teaspoon you were using to taste the soup into his mouth instead and push him off you as you untie your apron and place it on the work surface.

“You can keep your kisses. I’m not trying to get sick again.”

“You kissed me earlier when you came back?”

“Yeah when I thought you were on your death bed you manipulative man child.”

“Oh Y/N, come on!” He whines, stomping his feet. “I’m not a baby.” You look at his stomping foot and raise an eyebrow. He stops and his lips turn up in a little smile. “Okay fine, maybe I am a baby. But I’m your baby. And your baby is sick and needs you. He needs your kisses. Desperately or he might drop to the floor right now.”

“Drop. I don’t care, I’m not kissing you.”

“But I said I’m sorry!” He groans.

“And you’re forgiven. But I’m not kissing you. I don’t want to get sick again.”

“Actually,” he says, coming up to you as you reach into a cabinet above the sink to grab two bowls. “Since I caught this cold from you, it’s the same strain, and you can’t catch a cold twice with the same strain of virus. So you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“And since when did you become Dr. Mbappe.”

“I did some reading in the 3 hours you abandoned me.” You slide past him and start serving up the soup in the bowls.

“Good for you.”

He takes the bowls from you and sets them on the island before backing you up against the counter. The blanket around his shoulders falls to the floor as he rests his arms either side of you on the granite worktop, trapping your body between his.

“Just one kiss.” He whispers against your lips, his face barely an inch from yours. “Please. Just one.”

“Fine.” You press your lips against his lightly, ready to pull away but his hands cage your face, and he presses his lips harder against yours, deepening the kiss. You both pull away eventually breathless, your hand around his neck.

“Better?” You ask in a low voice.

“I’m cured.” He murmurs, before he suddenly recoils and sneezes all over your face.

“DUDE!” You shout, pushing him away as you reach for a tissue.

“Well, almost cured.” He laughs, stopping when he sees your stone cold expression, your eyes shooting daggers at him. You shove his bowl of soup into his chest and go to sit on the sofa with yours. You soon feel Kylian snuggle up next to you, lying down dramatically with his hand over his forehead.

“I suddenly feel weak and dizzy, I don’t think I can hold myself up Y/N.”

“What? You want me to feed you the soup now?”

“If you insist.” He smirks.

“You are unbelievable,” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too as you pick up the bowl and hold a spoonful to his lips.

“I also think a kiss in between each spoonful will really help speed up my recovery process.” He nods as he slurps the soup from the spoon.

“You know what, you should legally change your name to Mbaby.”

“Haha funny.” He retorts. He points to the soup, then his lips before opening his mouth wide. You intentionally put the bowl down and pull out your phone, flipping the camera to selfie mode and holding it up so both you and Kylian are in the frame simultaneously.

“Look at this big baby here,” You start, as you press the live option on your instagram. “Big boy Kylian Mbappe lying here while I feed him soup because he’s got a little cold he can’t handle.” Kylian reaches up to grab your phone but you leap from the sofa to the other side of the coffee table.

“Y/N, turn it off.”

“Oh look,” you say into the camera. “Suddenly he has the energy to get up. You should’ve seen him merely a few seconds ago guys, acting as though he had the plague.”

“Y/N, I’m warning you.”

You laugh as you read some of the comments from the fans on your live, getting louder as you see one from his teammate.

“Ky, Achraf said stop being such a pussy!”

“That’s it!” Kylian says before leaping over the table, but you’re a tad quicker than he is, dodging his lunge and making a break for it into the kitchen. “Cut the live Y/N, or I swear-“

“Or what?” You taunt, flipping the camera so it’s facing him as he stares you down from the other end of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You quickly slip through the door and up the steps before he can reach you, but Kylian proves himself to be one of the fastest men in the world once again because he’s grabbing onto your shirt just as you reach the top of the steps pulling you to the floor, his full weight on top of you as you raise your arm as high as you can out of his reach.

“Okay guys, I have to go, it’s time to feed baby Kyky his cough syrup.” You say just as Kylian grabs the phone out of your hand and turns it off.

“Looks like you’re suddenly feeling better hmm?” You tease, laughing.

“You…” He starts but his sentence trails and he pulls the blanket over his mouth before sneezing into it loudly. He sniffs, rolling over so he’s lying next to you, wheezing and breathless. “You’re so lucky I’m ill. Once this cold is gone, you’re dead.”

———

Tried to make it a bit fluffy, I feel like it probably wasn’t that fluffy aksjsksk enjoy ! <3

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe fic #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #mbappe fic #mbappe x reader #football fanfic #footballer x reader #mbappe #kylian mbappé #mbappe fanfic #mbappé #football imagine #kylian mbappe imagine #mbappe imagine

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eff4freddie · 4 days

Text

Things You Knew

Javi Gutierrez x Reader Rating: M Words: 8k AN: This is my submission for @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge and @auteurdelabre trope-off. Apologies for doubling up on challenges but it's been a pretty insane month at work. Anyway. I chose Javi G as I've never written for him before, and my trope was Soulmates. This was really fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Warnings: None

Your ankles crinkled in their sockets when you stretched them, and you didn’t want to think about what it meant, so you didn’t. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the way the tendons strained under the weight of keeping your head up. It wasn’t even that working for Javi was that hard – he was a kind boss, generous with his time and respectful of yours – it was just that his relentless quest had started to take its toll on all your other tasks. Tasks that were mounting up without his attention.

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you started, your arms full of binders and your iPad balanced precariously on top, ‘you have a meeting with the executive producers this afternoon…’

‘Cancel it, and it is Javi, please. You know this, Cariño.’

He was good looking enough that you didn’t mind the pet name, or that he’d bestowed it upon you the moment he saw you on your first day in the job, seven and a half months ago. Now, though, it grated on you as he strode past you standing patiently at his office door.

‘They’ve said that if you don’t show up this time the deal is off, Mr Gutierrez,’ you tried again, following behind him as he made his way down the hall to the front door. Your heels clacked on the marble in a way that announced your arrival well before you had any intention of making it, and you hated that you were unable to move silently through his house.

‘They can say whatever they want to. They do not understand I’m on a quest,’ he said, talking to you over his shoulder as his longer legs carried him. You sighed, the sorrowful little sound of it stopping him in his tracks. You took a step back as he rounded on you.

‘Como, Cariño?’ he asked, his brows saddled in concern. ‘Do you work too late? Do you carry too many things? Look at all these…’ he tutted at you as he took the binders from your arms, all labelled neatly in your script; the names of his various projects, ledgers, budgets, a contract he still hadn’t read let alone signed. ‘Who makes you carry these, hmm?’ he said, grinning at you slightly as you secured your face in a disapproving glare.

‘My boss,’ you said, but fighting a grin.

‘What a monster he must be,’ Javi said, winking at you. You felt the heat crawling up your cheeks, and hated yourself for it. You had noticed long ago that his voice, when it was just the two of you, was softer, quieter, that he almost whispered to you such that sometimes you found yourself leaning closer into his orbit just to pick up the words. You felt the fizzle up your spine and ignored it, every time, his cologne and his shampoo and just his skin enough to send a riot of butterflies into your throat and suffocate you.

‘Enough of this, it does not matter to me,’ he said, dismissing your months of work.

‘Mr Gutierrez, when you find her, you’ll need…don’t you think you’ll…’ you tried to think of a reason. He didn’t need the money, you knew that. He didn’t need the social status, he had that in spades thanks to his wealth and his association with Nicholas Cage. He had everything a man could want except for the thing that kept him up at night, and when he found it…

‘Don’t you think Nic will want to know what happened to your next movie?’ you tried your Hail Mary, invoking the name of Jesus himself. Javi paused. Your arms now empty you tugged nervously on your sleeve.

‘I will find her,’ he said, determined, and you nodded at him. ‘But when I do, you are right, I will need to juggle all my other responsibilities…Oh, Cariño will you help me, still? You will not leave me to rot?’

‘You won’t rot,’ you said, rolling your eyes at him. ‘You’ll be too happy with her.’

He grinned, his dimples popping out. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to take them between your teeth, but you resisted, you always resisted.

‘I will be, Cariño, won’t I?’ he said, but he wasn’t asking for an answer, and you could see the way his eyes had drifted away from yours that he was imagining her again, conjuring her in his mind as if he could transport her in front of him just by sheer will.

‘Yes, Prince Charming,’ you said, and he smiled at you, again.

‘If only I had a glass slipper to try on these women,’ he said.

‘You have better,’ you said, nodding to his wrist. Absent minded, he ran his fingers over the mark, the pattern you had seen enough times to know by heart.

He looked at you, sadly, then, his eyes coming back to yours. He knew it was a privilege to have been marked, that not everyone was born with their destiny etched on their wrists.

‘Is this hurting you?’ he asked, and you swallowed, collecting yourself for a moment.

‘You’re not the first I’ve witnessed find their match,’ you said, the words bitter on the back of your throat. ‘I’m happy that you will be happy, Mr Gutierrez. And that you apparently won’t fire me the moment you find her.’

‘I would never,’ he said, jostling the binders in his arms so that he could extend a hand to your shoulder. You felt the warmth seep into your skin through the loose cotton of your shirt. He wore a look of consolation on his face, and somehow that burned more than anything else.

A moment passed between the two of you, Javi’s thumb caressing your skin without his fully realising. You could see again his eyes were unfocussed, could see the spread of goosebumps up his forearm. You pushed him away, taking a step back and out of his grasp.

‘I do hope it’s soon, though,’ you said, plastering a smile on your face. ‘Not sure I can hold off the execs much longer.’

‘Tell them a family emergency came up,’ Javi said, ‘tell them I am sorry, but I must attend to my loved ones.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, we said that last time,’ you reminded him. He dropped your binders, one by one, on the hall table by the door. Through the glass you could see his driver idling his sports car. You held in a sigh. Taking a pen from his front pocket he at least signed the contract, sight unseen.

‘Tell them again…it is not untrue,’ he said. ‘When I find her, she will be family.’

Before you could try and get him to see sense he was gone, the door opened and closed for him as he strode over the threshold. You forced yourself to look away, to turn your shoulder and stare instead at the binders beside you. You could never look when he left you.

You had meant to go home, you really had, but you found yourself unaccountably engrossed in Javi’s bookkeeping and before you knew it the sun was setting over the ocean. Your phone rang, the vibrations jolting you out of your work.

‘-lo?’ you said, without checking, and when you heard a scoff you knew it was your roommate, Karla.

‘Girl, what are you doing?’ she asked, and you sighed.

‘I got…stuck with work.’

‘I’ve been texting. This time you didn’t even leave me on read.’

You had put your phone on Do Not Disturb the moment Javi had cleared the driveway. If he found Her, finally, you didn’t want to know about it.

‘Oh, I…needed to concentrate,’ you said. You realised your eyes were stinging and you blinked them a few times. How long had you been bent over your laptop? Too long, judging by the squawk of protest from your shoulders when you moved.

‘You’re breaking your back for this guy again?’ Karla asked. She knew, or at least she suspected with the benefit of very good evidence, that you didn’t work so hard for Javi because you cared about his next big movie production. Balancing the books for a multi-billion-dollar company wasn’t your job, either. But you knew that Javi had been taken advantage of before, by his own family no less, and you just liked to keep an eye on things to make sure he could trust his accountants.

‘I have a business degree, I gotta use it somehow,’ you said, and you heard Karla laugh. ‘What did you want, anyway?’

‘I was calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.’

‘Mmm,’ you agreed. You felt your stomach protest, remembering that you had forgotten to eat lunch. Javi had a way of making your tummy flip that made it difficult to want to add food to the equation.

‘He’s out again, on the hunt?’ Karla asked, gently, because she could read your mind even through the phone and that was why you loved her.

‘Mmm,’ you said, again, this time trying to sound blasé.

‘And you’re not waiting around for him to come home to see if he’s hit the jackpot?’

‘Mmm-mmm,’ you said, shaking your head for the benefit of absolutely no one.

‘Course not,’ Karla replied. ‘Will you at least go eat something?’

‘How did you…’

‘Could hear your stomach grumbling from here,’ she cut you off, and you grinned. You paused, feeling the smile slide off your face.

‘Do you think he’s ever going to stop looking?’ you asked, and you heard how wistful you sounded, how sad, your voice failing to cover for you.

‘Honestly?’ Karla said, and you held your breath, waiting for her to answer. ‘No, that man is determined and he gets what he wants.'

‘He put the ad in the paper,’ you said, ‘and he went on Late Night and showed his mark on TV.’

‘And how many fakers did that bring out of the woodwork? The cheap tattoos? That one lady who Sharpied hers on and didn’t think he’d try wiping it?’

You scoffed at that. She had lasted all of three minutes, and it was three minutes too long in your opinion. His security teams had received a talking to after that.

‘I don’t like seeing him… like this,’ you said, and you meant distracted and not able to attend important meetings, making you grovel for reschedules. Of course that’s what you meant. ‘He was so disheartened when all that publicity didn’t work.’

‘Kind of makes me grateful I don’t have one, to be honest,’ Karla said. You made your way to Javi’s kitchen, untouched by anyone except for his chef, and scrounged around for something with which to make yourself a sandwich. ‘I think he’ll do all this dating, and he won’t find Her, but he’ll find a girl nice enough, or gorgeous enough, and he’ll make do.’

‘Some stunning influencer.’

‘6 foot tall, waist tiny enough to wrap one hand around,’ Karla agreed.

‘Rich lady hair. Tits up to her chin,’ you added, after a thought.

‘She’ll have a PhD in neuroscience, and something in Law’ Karla giggled, ‘and she’ll volunteer for the UNHCR.’

‘And she won’t know how beautiful she is, she just will be.’

‘She’ll pop out twins and be…wait are we just describing Amal Clooney?’

‘We…we might be,’ you conceded.

‘I met her once, she was lovely.’

‘Of course she fucking was,’ you said, an ache blooming at your temples you were worried would turn into a full-on migraine. Karla was right. That was absolutely the kind of woman Javi would end up with, should end up with, if there was any justice in the universe. You knew this. Of course you knew this.

‘I’m gonna go meet my Not The One But Good Enough,’ Karla decided.

‘Put the sock on the doorknob,’ you reminded her, and she remained on the line long enough to scoff at you before she was gone. She was your best friend.

You turned back to the cupboards, considering your options. The kitchen was well stocked, but it was an ingredient kitchen. You just wanted a box of mac and cheese, not to have to roll the pasta yourself. You sighed.

‘That was dramatic,’ you heard a voice behind you, and you swivelled fast enough to make yourself dizzy.

‘Mr Gutierrez!’ you said, his voice honeyed but his eyes sad in the light from above the stove. ‘You’re back early.’

You watched as he sighed, plonking himself down at the table. Behind him a storm threatened to blow in over the ocean. You felt your stomach sink for him.

‘She was not the One,’ he said, and you nodded.

‘Not even the Not the One But Good Enough?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

You knew Javi. Despite Karla’s predictions, you knew he was uncompromising in getting what he wanted, that he had enough money in the world to engineer any career, any dream for himself but this one thing, this one missing piece, that was nevertheless evading him. He wasn’t the type to settle, even if it would make him reasonably happy. You knew this, too.

‘I do not know how to describe it, just that I knew she was not Her.’

You stayed by the cupboard, not wanting to interrupt his reverie, not sure if you should intrude. It almost seemed as though he forgot you were there, until he snapped his eyes to you. ‘What are you doing hiding in the kitchen?’

‘I didn’t have dinner…’ you said, and he slapped his forehead.

‘I forgot!’ he exclaimed, standing and running out of the room. You followed, because it seemed urgent, and because of course you did. You watched as he ran to the garage, disappearing into the darkness before you heard a car door slam.

‘Sorry, Cariño, I was just so upset about the girl, but it should still be warm. I will heat it for you.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, no, I can…’ you said, not wanting to remind him of the last time he tried to heat up leftovers, including his Great Grandmother’s silver serving spoon.

‘I know, Cariño, no silverware,’ he tutted at you, and you once again found yourself tagging along behind him.

‘Now you know,’ you said under your breath, and you heard him giggle.

So caught up in chasing him down, as per usual, you didn’t even look at what was in his hands until he produced a plate and served it. You had been expecting a half-eaten chocolate cake, maybe some bread and an unwanted appetiser, but what greeted you was an intricate dish, seafood and delicate squares of polenta, a garnish of radish and dill. You looked, as subtly as possible, for any bite marks and found none.

‘The chef recommended it as his favourite,’ he explained, his eyebrows saddling as he watched your reaction. ‘You eat fish, yes?’

You nodded, dumbly. ‘How did you know that I would…’

‘You’re always working late, Cariño. You think I do not notice but I do.’

You felt heat in your chest, your belly flipping again. This time, though, the smell of the food wafting gently over your nostrils was enough to overcome it. You were embarrassed to find your mouth watering.

‘Thank you, Mr Gutierrez,’ you said, warmth in your eyes as you looked at him. He smiled, pleased.

‘She did not like the food at all,’ he said, rolling his eyes as he put the plate down in front of you and went to find forks. ‘She did not like to eat.’

‘Well, she’s crazy,’ you said, too impatient to wait for the cutlery and instead diving in with your hands, picking up a polenta square and popping it into your mouth. An explosion of flavour danced across your tongue and you moaned, your eyes closing of their own volition. When you opened them again you saw Javi gazing at you, pink blooming across his cheeks.

‘It is not cold?’ he asked you, his voice oddly strained.

‘No, it’s good, do you want some?’ you asked, reaching down and holding a square out for him. He came forward, tentative, as you placed the food gently on his tongue. You felt an ember of something lighting between your thighs as he savoured it, groaning slightly.

‘Oh, it is heaven,’ he said, still with his eyes closed. You thought for a deranged moment of slipping from your chair and getting down onto your knees for him, wondering if you could make him make him groan like that with his cock in your mouth. You blinked, swallowing harshly. His eyes opened, gently, to gaze down at you.

‘I regret so much about tonight, and now I must also regret that I did not choose this for my own,’ he said, and you smiled at him. He reached for more and you batted his hand away.

‘Mine,’ you growled at him, and he grinned.

‘My hungry little Cariño,’ he said, and the little ember started to catch flame.

He sat beside you, his hand resting on the back of your chair, as you tucked in. So engrossed in the food you didn’t notice he had lapsed into silence until your plate was almost entirely cleared. When you finally remembered he was in the room you took him in.

He was quiet, his chin resting in his other hand as he considered the darkening sky over the ocean. You could see he was deep in thought, a kind of maudlin contemplativeness he was prone to sink into when things didn’t go his way. You wanted to pull him into your arms and wrap your fingers in his curls, soothe whatever troubled him with your lips on his skin.

‘What else do you regret about tonight?’ you asked, bold for someone who was technically talking to her boss. You pulled him from his reverie, but the room remained heavy with the weight of his sadness.

‘Have I gone about this all wrong?’ he asked. You wanted to reach out and smooth the indent where his brows crashed together, wipe the hopelessness off his face once and for all.

‘I don’t know how else you could have gone about it,’ you said, honestly. ‘You’ve gone about it basically every way there is.’

‘The talk show, that was not such a good idea.’

‘It seemed OK at the time, you just forgot people are generally terrible.’

‘A Sharpie, of all things. And it was black.’

You snorted a little. ‘I mean, no marks for execution but you gotta respect the hustle?’

Javi lapsed back into consternation for a while, and you let him. Being with him set your nerves ablaze but also, paradoxically, calmed you in a way that no-one else did. He was your boss, and he was annoying and this quest of his was ruining your standing with quite a few important contacts, but he was also kind, and he was loving, and you imagined that if you were to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat it would sound like home.

‘She just feels…I do not know how to say it. She just feels…like she’s right there. But I can not grasp her.’

You wanted to reach out and put your hand on his forearm, rub it with your thumb as you cooed into his ear. You needed to get yourself together. You were tired and he was wearing down your resistance by being so sad and so fucking gorgeous at the same time. You cleared your throat.

‘I should head home, it’s late,’ you said, and he nodded.

‘Cariño…’ he suddenly started, grabbing your arm as you went to move away. You pulled it from him, the heat of his touch even through your sleeves scorching. He sat beneath you as you stood over him at the table, his expression changing from sadness to hope to something else, something not quite settled comfortably on his features. ‘You can come in late, if you like. Since you worked late tonight.’

You couldn’t have said how. Maybe just that the look on his face, his hesitation, just by the way he had paused as he gazed up at you, but you just knew he had been going to say something else, had been thinking something else entirely. You wouldn’t ever be able to articulate it. You just knew this, too.

You shouldn’t have been surprised. This was what you wanted, after all. So, you could only smile, a little tightly, when Javi bounded into his office one afternoon, uncharacteristically late, and beamed down at you sitting at your desk.

‘You found her,’ you said, ignoring the stone shifting in your belly.

‘No,’ he said, his face suddenly serious, a look of almost remorse crossing his fucking beautiful features. ‘But she is just as good.’

You nodded at him. Fucking Karla had willed this into existence.

‘So, your quest is over?’ you asked, but he was already bouncing on his heels, looking at you with bright eyes and his dimples so sharp he could poke himself. You recalibrated. ‘Tell me the story,’ you said.

‘Oh, Cariño it was like nothing I had expected but somehow it was better.’ He was looking over your head, as if watching the movie of this perfect moment playing back behind his eyes.

‘We do not have the same marks. Hers is different, it is close but a little off on the left side? Anyway, I was at the bar talking to Marco, you remember Marco he financed my last project? So, I was talking to Marco about locations for filming in the Spring, and suddenly there is a tap on my shoulder and a woman…a vision of a woman…tells me if we need a vineyard she has one on the south coast!’

‘She…has a vineyard,’ you repeated, an image of Amal Clooney in a sundress holding a bottle of wine while giving you the finger appearing in your mind.

‘Well, it is her fathers, but I can not exactly complain about that,’ Javi said.

Ah. There it is.

‘And where did she get her law degree?’ you asked, not able to stamp out all the bitterness in your tone before the words escaped your mouth.

‘Eh?’ he asked, and you waved him away.

‘No, nothing, it’s…that’s great. When do I get to meet her?’

‘Cariño, you want to meet her?’ he asked, and he seemed genuinely surprised this, and because of that it was difficult for you to quantify the hurt it caused.

You’d forgotten, you supposed. All the late-night chats, the bringing you dinner, the times you had stood beside him while he worked his way through half of Europe trying to find his one, then most of Hollywood to boot, you thought that there had been a friendship there, something more than a boss and an overworked, underpaid employee. Of course there wasn’t. He was a billionaire and looked like a model and talked with passion about almost everything he encountered. You were…you. You knew this.

‘Well, I need to vet her, Mr Gutierrez,’ you recovered, quickly. ‘Have you done the necessary background checks?’

‘Oh, I do not need those, this is love,’ he said, and you tasted sour over the back of your throat. Your mouth was turning down all on its own, the muscles of your jaw twanging under the strain. You were horrified to realise you were going to cry in front of him if you didn’t get out of there.

‘Mr Gutierrez, I strongly urge you to do the background checks,’ you said, your voice reedy, but he wasn’t listening. You wondered if he ever would again.

‘We are to holiday in St Tropez,’ he announced. ‘I have just decided. Will you organise the helicopter?’

This time, you didn’t follow him as he strode out the door. You worried, instead, that you had condemned him, and by extension yourself, to a life of disappointment. It had to be this way, you were sure of it, and maybe you were worrying over nothing. Maybe this vineyard-inheriting goddess could make him happy, in the end.

Almost unconsciously you lifted your sleeve, your fingers tracing idly over your mark. You knew Javi’s so well. It mirrored your own.

‘He’s going to fucking marry her,’ you predicted, genuine misery in your chest nearly as heavy as the four pints of ice-cream you’d put in your belly. The Ben and Jerry’s had been Karla’s idea, and only now were you slightly regretting it.

‘Oh, fuck her, and fuck him too,’ Karla said, waving melting Triple Caramel Chunk in the air. ‘She’s probably got a stick so far up her arse she can’t bend over without getting a splinter.’

You snickered at this, the cruelty of it appealing to your whispering dark corners.

‘Daddy’s got a vineyarrrrrd,’ you intoned, affecting a truly awful sort-of-British accent.

‘DADDY! GET ME MORE VIIIIIIINES!’ Karla yelled, and now you were laughing so hard you were in real danger of asphyxiation.

‘DADDY! I’M TIRED OF THIS MANSION BUY ME ANOTHER ONE!’ you joined in, through hiccups of laughter and an errant burp.

You both paused for a moment, catching your breath. In the quiet the sadness seeped back in.

‘I still don’t understand why you don’t show him,’ Karla said, after a while. You sighed.

‘It’s not meant to be,’ you repeated for the hundredth time.

‘How can it not meant to be? You’re marked.’

‘Because he’s just…his life is completely different. I don’t fit into it, in any capacity.’

‘You do in one capacity,’ Karla said, nodding her head to your wrist.

‘He would be disappointed,’ you said, eventually, and Karla sighed.

‘You said when you saw him it was like lightning bolts?’ she asked, and you nodded. ‘You don’t think he felt that, too?’

‘I know he didn’t, because he didn’t react at all. It was like he didn’t see me. He just…employed me.’

‘But that doesn’t mean…’

‘Karla, I love you, but you need to listen to me on this one. There were no turtle doves, no petals falling from the sky. He saw me and he shook my hand, and he said, “welcome to my staff, it is lovely to have you” and then he was gone. The whole soulmates thing, they don’t mention that crushing, ridiculous privilege will override it. He didn’t feel anything for me because there was too much money and status in the way.’

You were dangerously close to tears again, the helplessness and the grief washing back over your bones. To your relief Karla just nodded at you, extending a cold hand to rest on your knee. You immediately shucked her off. ‘Ice-cream hands,’ you muttered, and she smiled.

‘I just…I just feel like, shouldn’t he have the choice? To decide for himself?’ she asked, and you shrugged.

‘It’s better this way. He’s found Little Miss Vineyard. He says it’s…he thinks it’s good enough, clearly. That’s good for him.’

‘What about you, bub?’ Karla asked, and you were going to protest, going to tell her that it didn’t matter, that you were happy he was happy, that maybe the one act of love you could do for your soulmate was to just stay out of his way, but for some reason that night the words died on your tongue. You swallowed down their corpses, feeling them curdle alongside ice-cream in your belly.

‘I’ll be OK,’ you said, and you knew the more times you said it, the more likely you would, one day, believe.

Javi and Vineyard were gone for the next ten days, which was enough time for you to harden your heart again and get back down to business. You decided, in the spirit of change and new beginnings, to finally bust out the black Amex card Javi insisted you keep in your drawer ‘for emergencies’ and renovated his office, deciding the mid-century brothel vibe didn’t suit a seaside setting. You were going to do modern coastal, you decided, using company time to browse furniture websites and considering the merit of rattan in a professional setting. You were going to do coastal, and you were going to do a fresh start and you were going to do healing. One decorative seashell at a time.

What you didn’t anticipate, though, so insistent on a new office kit out and by extension a new personality, was that everything would arrive flat-packed. The groundsmen faked bad backs, and the security team were pretty adamant their jobs didn’t extend to Allen keys, and so you found yourself down on your knees, sweat sticking your hair to your forehead, trying to beg the lug nut to sit flush on the dowel, whatever the fuck that was. It was this moment, of course, because the Universe was clearly punishing you for an egregious wrong doing in a past life that Javi, of fucking course, wafted back in.

‘Cariño?’ he said, uncertainly, to the lower half of your body.

‘Mmph,’ you responded, a screw held tight between your lips. ‘-ust a sc-nd Mr Git-er-ez,’ you muttered.

‘What are you doing? Where are my things?’ he asked, and you felt your shoulders drop. You took the screw from your mouth, deciding that four equal table legs that all touched the ground was so last year, and got up on your knees.

‘I wanted to surprise you,’ you said, and you looked around at the detritus of your efforts; the bubble wrap, the ripped-open boxes, the two successfully constructed armchairs that took you the better part of the morning to assemble. ‘I thought, a fresh new look for your new love,’ you lied, and watched as his eyebrows shot up.

‘This was all my father’s,’ he said, gesturing to where the old furniture was stacked up against the back wall. You swallowed. You probably should have known that.

‘I…’ you started to apologise, but he cut you off.

‘It was never my style. But I never knew what my style was until…this…’ he said. ‘This is perfect, Cariño. How did you know?’

Your mark tingled and you pulled your sleeve down tight over your wrist.

‘I thought about what I would like and did the opposite,’ you lied again, and he laughed, clapping his hands in delight.

‘My brilliant Cariño,’ he said, and it would have been kinder if he’d just shot you on the spot. You felt the burn and ache in your chest. You wondered what cute little pet names he called Vineyard. But he was coming towards you, getting down on his knees in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

‘I will assist,’ he announced, in that way he had where there was just no arguing with him.

‘Why do I feel like you have never, in your life, put together flat-pack furniture?’ you asked, and he grinned at you.

‘You know me so well,’ he said, and you really fucking did.

It took an hour and a half, but by the end of your toiling you and Javi had the legs on the desk, all four and all the same length. It turned out if the dowel didn’t sit properly you could just whack it really hard with a paperweight. The things you learned working for Javi.

You stood together, appraising the upturned desk.

‘So, I guess we just each get on the other end and…flip it?’ you suggested.

‘It looks heavy,’ he said, his brows furrowed in concentration.

‘It is, I got the really expensive one,’ you said, and smiled at him when he looked at you, questioningly.

‘You spoiled me?’ he said, and you scoffed.

‘One way to think of it,’ you said, not wanting to tell him you’d paid with glee thinking somehow this might put a little dent in his amour somewhere, knowing that of course it wouldn’t, but feeling the vindication anyway.

‘Ok, Cariño, you get on that end and then I think we…put it on its side?’ he asked, and you nodded at him.

‘Yeah, roll it that way,’ you said, gesturing to your left as you leant down.

‘That way?’ Javi asked, gesturing with his head to his left, not yours, but you weren’t watching him.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you hummed, bracing yourself to lift. Was it lift with your knees to protect your back? Squat? That seemed like it would strain more…

‘1…2…3…’ you counted, hefting the desk to the left while Javi hoisted to the right. It immediately corkscrewed, rolling out of your hand and twisting your wrist as it thudded to the ground. You screamed in surprise and then blooming pain, holding your wrist in your hand as if you could repair it with just your grip.

‘Cariño!’ Javi called, vaulting over the desk and at your side in an instant, reaching out to grasp your wrist. He moved so quickly, so agile over to you that you didn’t have time to react. He pulled up your sleeve to get a better look, turning your wrist towards him to inspect it.

‘Wait, wait…’ you said, as your mark gently rotated into his view.

He froze. You closed your eyes for a moment, terrified to look at him, before you heard his sharp intake of breath. You opened your eyes again to see him examining it, lifting your wrist closer to him to properly inspect it.

‘Cariño…’ he whispered, and you swallowed acid over your raw throat.

‘I can explain,’ you said, but you couldn’t really. He finally lifted his eyes to yours, as if remembering for the first time the mark was attached to a person, and you watched as the confusion on his face crumbled away to a sorrow deep enough you thought he might stop your heart.

‘You knew,’ he said, his voice soft and dripping in betrayal. ‘All this time, you stood and watched…and you never said a thing.’

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you whispered, not knowing where to even start. He was right, of course he was right, but you had never intended to tell him, had never allowed yourself to imagine the conversation unfolding around you in this moment. The hurt bloomed on his face, and you felt tears start to well at your waterline. You blinked them back.

‘The whole time. You knew,’ he said.

You did, you had known. So many things you had known.

‘I…’ you started, but he was moving, standing up and backing away from you, out towards the door. You looked away as he left you, like you always did. You knew now it would be the last time.

This was beyond even Ben and Jerry’s. Karla mostly left you to it, the unique weight of the pain at having hurt your soulmate indescribable. You had read that it was possible, when you finally made the connection, that you could feel their feelings as richly and as closely as your own. The combined weight of your sadness crushed you, pulverised you, such that you could barely think straight. Karla brought you easy food; toast and bananas and chicken soup, and you ate it all without tasting, only feeding your meat suit purely for maintenance, and didn’t allow yourself to remember the taste of the fish Javi brought back to you; his soulmate and his traitor.

You resigned, immediately. In writing, in an email that was never replied to. Each day you scrolled Instagram for news of the inevitable engagement to Vineyard. You held your phone in one hand while you rubbed at your aching mark with the other.

You knew, there were stories, of divorcing soulmates. It was rare but sometimes circumstances overcame even destiny, even biology. Sometimes people died, leaving their soulmates behind. You spent time on message boards reading the stories of people who had lost their connections, of people who had woken up one day and felt the mark cold to the touch, had known in their hearts then and there that their mate was gone. Some had felt it before they had found their matches. They struggled the most; the what ifs, the could-have-beens.

You considered that maybe it was a blessing that you at least knew it was Javi. It would stop you looking for the rest of your life, stop you having to check the wrist of every man you met, second guess any minimal attraction you might have felt to another.

Karla sat on the end of the couch as you stared out the window, the TV on but unwatched in front of you.

‘You love him,’ she said, simply, and you nodded. Heartsick, you didn’t have the words.

‘From the first moment,’ you agreed.

‘No, but it’s deepened, the more time you’ve spent with him,’ she observed. You nodded again before lifting your knees to your chest and resting your cheek there. If you closed your eyes and really tried you could conjure the memory of his cologne, could imagine you rested your head on his chest.

A couple of weeks passed. You couldn’t be sure how many. You got off the couch, the thrumming hurt of your heart and your mark lessening somewhat as the days went on. You checked it every morning for its warmth, relieved not to find it cold, and you wondered if your lessening sadness was really just that Javi was moving on with Vineyard. That now you were starting to lose his connection you could be left to your own miserable devices. You considered that this was inevitable, that the ending you had been expecting probably ran pretty close to this. You hated that you had hurt him, though. You had only ever intended to fade into the background before he noticed you were gone.

You applied for another job, this one far less glamorous but less likely to utterly gut you. On the mainland, doing some general bookkeeping and executive assistance for a CEO of a small manufacturing firm. It would be simple work, and you were a shoo-in, subject to a satisfactory referee check. You hovered over the form naming Javi as your previous employer. In the end you named his business manager, leaving the details for him to fill in.

Your reference check came back within the hour. Glowing. You were offered the job.

Your first week was good, then your first fortnight. You received your first pay-check with gratitude, even though it was almost half what Javi had been paying you. You felt good to be productive again, to be able to put some of your skills to good use. You didn’t have to trail behind your boss as he blew off any and all obligations for some flight of fancy. You spent considerably less time discussing Face/Off.

It was fine, you were fine. It was going to be fine. You were aware, distantly, that you were probably heaving in denial and numbness, and it suited you, so you let it.

Except when you woke on what you thought would be a normal Thursday, your mark burning so hot you gasped awake, reaching for it to check it hadn’t been seared into your skin. Holding it up to the light it looked the same. Karla checked it and confirmed it seemed to the same temperature as the rest of you. Just your nerves were screaming, perceiving a flame not visible to the eye.

You googled, checking message boards, searched ‘burning marks’. There was nothing, which you weren’t sure was a good or a bad thing, worried for a moment you would pull up results from those who had lost their spouses, the burning mark serving as a premonition of the horrors to come. You slathered burn cream on it, which did nothing, took an anti-inflammatory or two and considered calling in sick. In the end you decided against it, because you weren’t sick sick, you were heartsick, and somehow that just didn’t feel anywhere near as real.

On the ferry over to the mainland you considered lowering your arm into the ocean water, the cool of the water maybe able to provide some relief. You would have to get down on your knees in your work skirt, on the wet and not particularly clean ferry floor. You considered it longer than you cared to admit.

In your office the heat from your mark started travelling up your arm and you started googling ‘infections of the blood and skin’ and ‘septicaemia’. You wondered if it was an allergic reaction, if perhaps you had run your arm through some kind of heinous plant, and you wondered if the office had an epi-pen in the first aid kit. You googled if it was bad to use one if you weren’t actually in anaphylactic shock. The internet was pretty damning of the idea.

You wondered if you needed to go the local emergency care clinic, was just debating asking your boss for the afternoon off, when a shadow darkened the door.

‘Cariño?’ it said, a perfect Javi-shaped silhouette as the sun streamed in from behind.

‘Mr Gutierrez?’ you asked, gasping immediately as your mark pulsed, the heat shooting down your arm and into your chest. Was it a stroke? How were you supposed to know if it was a stroke?

‘My Cariño,’ he said, stepping forward into your little office and somehow crowding all the space. His cologne wafted over to you, and you felt the warmth of it spread over your nostrils and down into your blood. You wavered a little on your feet.

‘I’m so sorry,’ you said, stepping back from him as he advanced, feeling the sudden urge to keep space between you, not to let him to get too close, knowing that if got within arms reach you would pull him into you, wrap his arms around your back and your legs over his hips, never detach yourself from him, sink your lips over his neck and taste his pulse through his skin.

‘Cariño…’ he said, but you interrupted him, the searing heat of your mark now making its way to your racing heart.

‘I thought you would be happier with someone more like you… I thought it was a kindness, that you would feel something for someone that would be enough to make you happy. And I only ever wanted you to be happy, you have to understand that I did it so that you could be happy…’ you trailed off, the words spilling out of you now, distracted by the flames in your chest. ‘Karla said I should tell you, let you choose, and I know now that she was right, I think I always knew she was right, but the idea that you wouldn’t choose me, I wasn’t sure I could survive it, so I didn’t let you. It was selfish and it wasn’t very brave and I know I hurt you, and I never wanted to…’ you felt tears on your cheeks, marvelled at them, at how they could appear unbidden. You weren’t sure you were breathing. You weren’t fully convinced you were alive.

‘Cariño…’ he tried again, taking another step towards you but you held your hand up, your aching mark now uncovered.

‘Please, please…I don’t think I can…’ you started, but you didn’t know how to finish. You didn’t think you could stand it if he’d come here to just finally end things. To tell you he was going to marry Vineyard but wanted a clear conscience first. Wanted to let you down easy, in person. Was your mark burning because he was furious with you? He mostly just seemed nervous.

‘Let me speak, Cariño, oh my god,’ he muttered, his patience rapidly running out. You stopped short. ‘I know. I mean, not at first. At first, I did not understand, but I thought about what you must have been feeling, how you must have thought of me.’

‘No, I…’

‘The silly man who runs around causing you problems.’

‘No…’ you started, but he kept talking, despite you.

‘But then I thought harder, and I felt more.’ He gestured to his mark, the perfect match for yours. ‘I was not angry, Cariño, I could never be angry at you. I was sad, I think, that I had failed you.’

You shook your head, the words failing you.

‘I felt more into the mark…I do not think I am making any sense. But I thought of you, my Cariño, I think I heard you in my head a little bit, and I thought of your beautiful heart, and I knew why you did it.’

‘You did?’

At this he shrugged, honest and raw. ‘Of course I did, you are my One.’

‘Why did I do it?’ you asked him, genuinely still trying to settle it for yourself.

‘Because you love, and this is how you show it. You put others first. You always have.’ You nodded. This was true. ‘I see that about you, Cariño. What do you see about me?’

You answered immediately. ‘I see a man who feels deeply and freely, who is passionate about what he wants… who usually gets it.’

‘Usually?’ he asked. You noticed for the first time that, since he had started talking, he had also been moving towards you. That if you reached out to him, and he reached out to you, skin would meet skin.

‘Always,’ you said, grinning.

He nodded. ‘It is true, I will not lie,’ he said. ‘I get what I want.’

He took another step, and this time you stayed put.

‘You don’t hate me? You’re not mad? All those dates…’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘I knew,’ he said, devastating you in two words.

‘You did?’ you asked, with the little breath you still had.

‘Some part of me knew, yes,’ he nodded. His brows were crashing together now, his face so earnest, so open, as he inched towards you like he was trying not to spook a bear. Later you would realise the closer he was to you the less your mark burned. You could smell him this close, more than his cologne but the clean, crisp scent that was just his skin, just Javi.

‘All of those women, Cariño. In all of those women I looked for you.’

You didn’t think. Nothing about it was conscious. You just felt the firework explode in your chest and moved to him, letting him pull you into his arms and kiss you, his lips searching and little muffled whimpers matching your own. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a melding, a coming together. It was something right and essential slotting into place, a line item checked off on the Universe’s ledger. You gasped into his mouth, your knees weak, your pulse heavy at your throat. His skin on yours. He reached up a hand to cup your jaw, pulling you closer into him.

‘Javi…’ you whispered, and he groaned a little.

‘Say it again,’ he said, and you did.

#rollatropechallenge #pedro pascal fanfiction #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #tuwomt #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #tropeoff2024

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the-witty-pen-name · 6 months

Text

Love is Blind Part 2

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut in later parts, reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab.

Read Part One!

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, please let me know if you enjoyed! If ! forgot anything to include as a warning please let me know. Also, if you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic, just let me know!

Day Three:

Eddie is sitting on the couch upside down, his legs hanging over the backrest and his head dangling over the seat. He stares up at the makeshift ceiling above as he pretends to play the drums on his stomach. The overhead light is starting to make his eyes slightly water but he’s too comfortable to move.

You’ve told him your name and he’s been almost obnoxious with how much he’s using it in your conversation. He’s using any excuse to work it into the front or back of a lot of his sentences. It doesn’t bother you like you thought it would, and you actually love hearing him call you by your name. It helps create a sense of intimacy where you both obviously can’t have it. It makes you feel more real to him, makes you feel closer to him, reminding him that if he sticks this out he could actually see you, maybe even touch you…

“Do you worry about what’s going to happen when this thing ends?” you ask.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he replies, moving so he is sitting upright. You sound concerned, your voice sounding smaller. “I don’t want to talk through a wall anymore, I want to talk like actually in person- not like some lab rats.”

“Do you think about what I look like?” you ask cautiously, and Eddie shakes his head as he stands up to walk directly up against the wall.

“Of course, I’d love to see you,” Eddie explains, “I haven’t actually thought so much about what you look like, I just want to see you. You know? We’ve talked for what- uh, 7 or 8 hours at this point? Which honestly- insanely small amount of time to get to know someone. But like think about it- average date is what? 2 hours, sometimes less. We’ve been on like 4 “normal length” dates in 3 days. And usually you know you like someone by then at least. And I know I like you, and I love talking to you- without seeing me you have made me feel seen. God, that was so fucking cheesy.”

You feel the corners of your ears well with tears- a little overwhelmed from the affirmations and attention you are not used to receiving. You realize that you never once doubted you’d not like how Eddie looks, nor do you even care either. You don’t understand why your brain won’t let you accept the same could be true for the way Eddie thinks about you.

“I feel the same way about you,” you respond, and Eddie pumps his fist in victory. “I’ve had so much I’ve needed to work through. I mean, still working through. I have a lot of trouble accepting the fact that someone could actually like me as I am right now. I’ve always had the thoughts of well, I need to change myself and once I’m more like this, then I’ll be attractive or whatever. But, when I’m here, talking with you, I’m not worried about it anymore. But I’m still worried about what it's going to look like when this whole ordeal is over and you actually see me, and I can’t hide behind the wall anymore. But here, when we’re talking, I feel like I can be completely myself with you and I’m scared of losing that. Cause I also really like you.”

“I can promise you there is nothing about you that would make me not interested,” he reaffirms. “I mean, I already know that you’re pretty- inside and out so it isn’t going to change anything. Except… I’m hoping you’d let me kiss you if you aren’t completely repulsed by me that is. Ugh, I’m sorry. I sound like a pathetic 14 year old boy. But, you know what I mean. Fuck, this is torturous.”

Eddie beams when he hears your little laugh from the other side of the wall again. He wants to know if there’s anyway he can get out of the experiment early. He needs to touch you, pull you into him. He wants to hug you, and have you here sitting next to him- flush up against his side. He’s craving the small pieces of physical intimacy that would just satisfy this restlessness he’s feeling throughout his whole body. It’s like he’s experiencing withdrawals but for something he’s never even been allowed to taste. He wants to shower you with affection the second you let him.

“So, what are you hoping for at the end of this?” You ask, snapping yourself out of your daze. In the little notebook they provided to everyone, you’ve caught yourself writing Eddie in different styles with little hearts. You snap the book closed, like you're worried he’s gonna see it or something. You roll your eyes at yourself, leaning back on the couch and putting one of the pillows up to your face, embarrassed. You’re so past the point of no return.

He takes a deep breath, contemplating his answer. Wanting to be honest, but not so honest that he scares you away by moving too fast. Case closed: he just wants to get your number and ask you on real dates. There’s also wildly inappropriate things swirling around in his head, as he reminds himself of what he did last night. But, he’s not ready to admit that fantasy to you just yet.

“It depends on how you’ll feel most comfortable,” he settled on. “But I’d love to take you on an actual date. Like a real one, not this weird shit anymore. We can sit and talk face to face, so I can stare at you and you can yell at me to cut it out. I want to make you feel special and attractive because you are and you deserve to be entirely spoiled and pampered. However that looks for you, I’m down. I just want to be near you. I’ll go at your pace.”

You were never the type to make the first move, ever. Which is also why you’re here in the first place. You have never had the courage to vocalize any sort of desire to a man like you have with Eddie. It’s been really thrilling, the way he’s been able to help you open up. You feel like you can share your thoughts on what you want physically and he won’t judge you or shame you. You decide to be blunt.

“If it’s actually true, that you’re physically attracted to me when you see me for the first time,” you say, unable to control the way your whole body gets covered in goosebumps at the thought. “I don’t want you to hold back. Just whatever feels right to you in that moment, do it. Kiss me, touch me, I’m down for everything.”

“Everything?”

“I want everything.”

“Shit, sweetheart, you can’t just say that,” Eddie responds, sounding almost pained. He chuckles, “you’re a tease, you know that?”

“I’m just being honest,” you respond, and Eddie can hear how you’re being coy. He loves it, he’s happy to hear you coming out of your shell. He’s excited to finally hear about this side of you. You’re slowly but surely peeling back your layers for him.

“I want you to be more honest,” he flirts. “But Christ, it’s going to be a long week.”

There were four more days to go before the big reveal. If any of the participants felt they had a connection to another- or fell in love, they’d submit their picks to the technicians and then the technicians would set-up the next phase of the experiment. Unfortunately, if this does happen, the first time you actually get to see Eddie, it’ll still be under surveillance, most likely monitoring heart rate and whatever else they’re looking for. It will feel clinical, which is so not ideal, but once it’s over- you and Eddie could walk out together and do whatever, go wherever. If he still is interested.

“So, um, what type of girls do you usually go for?” you ask, a slight twinge of insecurity working its way back to the front of your mind.

“Um,” Eddie replies, letting out an exhale, “Alive.” He smiles when he hears a laugh from the other side of the wall.

“No seriously,” you urge. “I’m curious.”

“I mean- I really don’t have a type,” he states honestly. “I’d like it if she's nice to me, but that’s not even a deal breaker,” he jokes.

“You like girls being a little mean to you?” You flirt, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“I don’t think I’d hate it,” he grins. “Um, but seriously? I guess I want someone who likes some of the same stuff as me- or at least will put up with me talking about it. I want someone who I feel comfortable around and I’m not afraid to be myself.”

“What about like- appearance wise?” you ask tentatively.

“This feels like a question we shouldn’t be asking,” he taunts. You feel your face get hot. “I feel like if I tell you the truth you won’t believe me,” he answers.

“Why’s that?” you ask, confused.

“It feels like you're expecting me to say skinny, blonde and leggy or something, and if I say anything else you’re going to just think I’m lying,” he muses. Your eyes widen at how well he’s able to read you, and it’s mildly infuriating.

“I think someone or maybe the world or whatever,” he continues, “has convinced you that you aren’t attractive and I really, truly think that isn’t the case at all. And baiting me to try to confirm that isn’t going to work because I can tell it’s a defense mechanism cause you’re afraid.”

“Well darling,” he smirks, stepping as close as possible to the wall so you hear him clearly, “I’m not gonna let you get away with it. Because, talking to you is convincing me with each passing hour that I’m cooped up in this damn box that this experiment might actually work. I have not been able to think about anything else but getting back to talk to you when I’m not here. You’re desirable, I want you and you’re just gonna have to wrap your pretty little head around that.”

Buzz

PART THREE

Taglist:

@woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @ali-r3n @cherrycolas-things @hellfirebabe666 @trixyvixx @stardancerluv @i--wont-run-this-time

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