#yet again i am bested by me. long weary sigh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cxrdycxps · 6 months ago

Text

God’s Favorite/Devil’s Choice • Ellie Williams

☢️ religious trauma • child abuse (emotional and physical • mental illness • physical illness • emotional trauma • death ☢️

Main Masterlist • Ellie Williams Masterlist

“Momma?” You asked quietly, watching out the window at the back yard. The winter had hit Jackson hard which left the entirety of the town covered in snow and frost. It looked like someone had forgotten to draw in the details of real life.

“Yes, Baby?” Your mother hummed from her spot in the living room, feet up on the coffee table and book in her hand.

You looked down at the water your hands were in and the dishes you had just washed from dinner. You weren’t sure if you should ask but the question was eating you up inside. “Was all that really true?”

“All what, Baby?” Your mother asked. You released the water from the sink and clambered down from the chair you stood on carefully. You returned the chair to the dining table and moved slowly towards the living room, half hiding in the doorway.

“Am I really going to hell?” You asked her softly and she chuckled, patting the space beside her on the sofa. You joined her, climbing up on the cushion beside her.

“I wish you weren’t.” She sighed, pulling you onto her lap and holding you close. She rocked you slightly as you sniffled. “I’ve been trying to save your soul since birth but some people, well they’re just damned.”

You cried into her chest and she rocked you quietly, shushing you. Her hand ran up and down your back slowly and you had almost drifted to sleep when she tapped your leg. “You can’t sleep yet.”

You blinked at her sleepily before nodding, climbing down off her lap and stumbling towards the little cupboard under the stairs. You were five now. You had to say your prayers for an hour every night before bed.

The door to the closet closed behind you and plunged you into darkness. You didn’t like this part. You were afraid of the dark but your mother told you that you had to pray in here. You had to try and save your soul from hell.

///

“Well this just fucking sucks, doesn’t it?” You winced when Ellie dropped herself at your table, her arms crossed. She looked around and then looked back to you. “Why do you sit on your own? Are you the town freak, am I committing social suicide on my first day of school?”

You didn’t want to tell her. In fact you would die for just one friend that your mother hadn’t run away with her Bible rhetoric but you knew this wouldn’t last long. She was rough, always swearing and she seemed to be more world weary than you. Your mother didn’t like you to know a lot about what went outside the walls of Jackson because it opened your mind to sin.

“You kind of are.” You told her quietly. She looked around again at the other tables before shrugging and picking up her sandwich. “Dina is pretty cool. You could sit with her.”

“I’ve never been cool. I was a loser back in my old school and I met my best friend that way. Don’t want to break my lucky streak now.” She spoke with food in her mouth and grinned at you. You winced but couldn’t help the little laugh you gave her. It would be nice to have a friend for a little while again.

“Have you ever heard of Savage Starlight?” Ellie asked and you shook your head. This launched her into a massive spiel on what had to be the greatest comic book ever made and she informed you about all the characters and story lines she had gotten to read.

“‘Course I don’t know how it ends which is fucking annoying but I suppose that’s my little taste to understand how surviving the outbreak was hard. What about you?” Ellie asked and you blinked at her before shrugging. “Got any hobbies?”

“Not really. I got a lot of chores to do after school. I don’t really get time.” You explained and Ellie scrunched her face up. “It’s just me and Momma. I gotta help her out cause she’s not able to get around that easy.”

“Oh. Was she hurt?” Ellie asked softly and you smiled at her thoughtfulness but shook your head. “What then?”

“She’s getting old, she says. So I have to help. That’s my job as a daughter, you know?” You explained and she seemed to be pondering the thought before shrugging.

“I mean I’m an orphan, so not really. Joel doesn’t make me do chores because he’s boring and likes doing them. Says it reminds him of before.” Ellie explained and you nodded. It made sense.

“Were you always an orphan?” You asked and she nodded, sipping at her water. “My pa died before I was born too.”

“Nice. I don’t actually know if my dad died but I’ve been in an orphanage since basically my birth. Joel is kind of like my dad except not, you know?” Ellie asked and you shook your head. You hadn’t really ever had a dad around so you couldn’t really relate.

“Not really but I’m glad you have someone.” You told her and she smiled brightly at you.

“I think now I have two someone’s.” You shared her smile a little reluctantly. Ellie was nice, you knew that made it hurt more when they didn’t want to be friends anymore.

///

“That girl, with the swearing? Is she in your class?” Your mother asked. You were stood at the sink, staring out at the back yard. Summer had come and the flowers you had planted in the spring were all in bloom. You were rather proud of them.

“Ellie?” You asked for clarification but you knew it could only be her. She had been at the Tipsy Bison with Joel for dinner and she had been swearing up a storm. “The new girl?”

“Yes, the new girl. Don’t be daft on purpose, it doesn’t suit you.” You ducked your head focusing on the warm water your hands were in. “Is she in your class?”

“There’s only one class, Momma.” You sighed and heard the sofa creak as your mother stood from her seat. You counted the foot steps it took for her to get to you.

“That sort of cheek is the reason you’ll never get past the gates of heaven.” Your mother snapped and you winced in preparation when she took a handful of your hair and pulled you towards the cupboard under the stairs. “I don’t know why I even try with you anymore. Get in there.”

The closet had gotten cramped with age but still you were supposed to fit in and pray for at least an hour when your mother got like this. She didn’t pray with you but she did expect you to pray out loud without any pauses or noises of shuffling around.

Your eyes would adjust in a few minutes and you would have to find a cramped position in which you could be comfortable because any sign of stiffness or soreness would be seen as a regret for having prayed and earn you another hour.

“I can’t hear you.” Your voice raised in level and you counted the prayers out on your fingers hoping you didn’t miss one. She wouldn’t tell you until after and you’d have to start all over again. Tears of frustration pricked at your water line and you did your best to keep your voice steady.

You hadn’t been cheeky. You were just answering her question. She was so convinced of your damned soul that she took any chance to try absolve your sins immediately after you had committed them. You weren’t sure why you weren’t able to go a day without sinning but you knew deep down your mother was right. You were awful and you would go to hell because you had been lying to her.

You and Ellie had been friends for weeks now and she had understood when you told her that your mother didn’t like you having friends. She never approached you outside of school when you were with your mother and it had turned into one of the longest friendships you’d ever had without her to get in the way.

So you prayed a little harder for your lies and begged god not to remove the first good thing that had happened to you in years.

///

“Joel is teaching me to play guitar.” Ellie told you quietly. You were supposed to be filling out your math worksheets together but both you and Ellie were very good at math and had finished them in the first five minutes. “He wanted to be a singer when he was younger.”

“Is he any good?” You asked, laughing at the idea of big Joel Miller singing the gospel music your mother played for you when she was in a good mood.

“I think so. He’s good at country at least. I don’t know about all those old pop songs that he sings while he’s washing dishes. He just looks and sounds stupid then.” Ellie told you with a grin and you laughed again.

“He seems really fun. Me and Momma don’t have fun like that.” You told her, hand reaching up to sooth your scalp that had been burning. Four times this week she’d dragged you by your hair to pray.

“I wish you could come over to our house. Joel could make dinner and you could see the garage. I basically live on my own.” Her chest puffed out and you were in awe. You’d like to live on your own you think.

“I wish I could too. I could see all your comics and posters.” You sighed wistfully and she bumped her shoulder against yours.

“I’ll just bring them all in one by one for you to see.” She promised and you smiled brightly at her, swallowing against the almost sick feeling you got in your stomach when Ellie was nice to you.

“I know you’re gonna say this is sappy but you’re my best friend, you know that?” You asked her and she laughed.

“I’m your only friend, Angel.” That nickname seemed like it was gonna stick. Ellie had chosen it when she asked why you always paused before eating your lunch. When you had explained that you were praying she had tagged you with the nickname despite your protests that you were far from an angel.

“You’re still the best.” You promised her and she laughed, resting her head on your shoulder for a minute before straightening up again. Ellie didn’t like saying sappy stuff so she chose to touch you in some way instead, it was how she showed she liked someone. “Yeah, I know. You love me too.”

She laughed and pushed you away but you noticed her cheeks turning pink and you knew you had hit the nail on the head. You were her best friend too. You’d never had that before.

///

“Momma?” You climbed the stairs slowly, surprised to not find your mother in the living room when you got home from school. There was no reply to your call and you found the bathroom door wide open along with your mothers bedroom door.

But yours was shut tightly.

You weren’t sure why your heart was pounding as you stepped closer to the door, your hand reaching for the door knob. You took a deep breath and turned it, pushing the door open.

Your room was destroyed, everything pulled out of place, all of your books open and tattered on the ground. Your dresser drawers were overturned on the ground with your clothes spilled everywhere. “Momma?”

She was sitting on the edge of your bed, just waiting and watching your reaction. You looked around again and then back to her for explanation. “Are you okay?”

Your stomach was sinking and your lungs were constricting. She knew something she shouldn’t know and you only had one secret when it came to your mother. There was only one you couldn’t share. Ellie Williams.

“You’ve been very careful.” Your mother noted casually. Like she wasn’t in the middle of your upturned room, like she hadn’t made this mess. “Not even a trace of her.”

Of course there wasn’t. She had wanted you to bring home some of her comics but you had denied her. All the little notes she had written you were tucked away in your workbook in class. You knew better than to think you had that level of privacy at home. “Trace of who, Momma?”

“Ellie Williams.” Her tone was cold and you stayed in the doorway, not daring to get any closer to her when she was like this. It was a long way down the stairs to the cupboard if she got your hair now.

“I don’t know what you mean, Momma.” Your voice shook and she laughed at you. You didn’t know how your mother made such an expression of joy manage to be the exact opposite, cold and unfeeling.

“If I didn’t know better then I’d believe you.” She said and you swallowed, looking around again like you had been careless enough to forget something. “But when Joel Miller approached me to ask could you have a sleepover, promised it wouldn’t interrupt your chores. I had to pretend to know that you’d been talking to his girl.”

You felt faint. Your hand reached out for the door frame to steady yourself when your knees buckled. You had been so careful but not careful enough.

Your mother lifted her hands and settled a long black belt over her lap, smoothing the leather of it with her index fingers. It was your belt and you suddenly had to fight the urge to vomit.

“I always knew your soul was damned.” She sighed like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. “But I never could’ve guessed to what extent. You’ve broken two commandments.”

“Momma, I didn’t.” You spoke quickly, fear pulsing adrenaline around your body. “I didn’t lie to you. I promise. I never told you that we talked because we sit beside each other in class. We aren’t friends, Momma. She just doesn’t understand that I have other priorities, Momma.”

The words burned you to speak them. It felt a greater sin to forsake Ellie’s friendship than to lie to your mother and when the tears pricked your eyes you knew it to be true. “I’m sorry, Momma.”

“You’ve just lied to me again, haven’t you?” She asked and you nodded slowly. There wasn’t a god on this world or the next that would have you deny Ellie.

“She’s nice to me, Momma. She doesn’t treat me mean the way everyone else does.” You explained through your tears. “I just wanted one friend. Just one.”

“You have one friend. The only friend you need. Jesus Christ who died for your sins.” Your mother stood and walked towards you.

“It’s not a sin to love Ellie, Momma. She’s my best friend.” Your mother froze in place, her eyes narrowed at you. You realized your mistake a second too late. “Not like that, Momma. We’re just friends.”

“Praying ain’t enough for you, child.” She handed over the belt and you stared at it in confusion. You had expected her to hit you with it. Maybe you were too harsh on your mother. “Go on, ten lashes.”

“You want me to-”

“Over your back. You’ll have to take your top of but self flagellation will work better than prayer. Don’t go easy either, if it don’t hurt it ain’t working.” She urged and you stared at her, bile crawling up your throat. “Come on now.”

“Momma, I didn’t do anything wrong.” You sobbed but she didn’t move, watching you with those cold eyes. “Momma.”

“Ten. I’ll count.”

///

“Dude, where the hell were you?” Ellie exclaimed when you took your seat next to her almost four days later. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you fought the hiss of pain, leaning into the comfort of her embrace.

You had suffered for this sin, you might as well commit it now.

“Got sick.” You explained and she let you go, looking you over. You knew how you looked. Your eyes were puffy and you were walking with a stiffness that came from being on your knees praying for almost three days straight.

“Damn, you look like hell.” She whispered and you couldn’t help the laugh. Hell was only the half of it. You had been through it all and back again in the last four days and you had made a decision.

You were choosing Ellie. No matter the pain or the punishment, you weren’t going to lose Ellie. You’d rather face an eternity of Hell in the afterlife than choose a moment without her in this one.

“I missed you.” You told her quietly and let your head rest on her shoulder. It pulled at your back but the comfort outweighed the pain you were feeling and so you didn’t move. “I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you too.” Ellie promised quietly, her head resting against yours. “And don’t be mad but Joel totally put his foot in it the other day. He asked you mom why you couldn’t sleep over. He didn’t know it was a secret.”

“Oh.” You tried to keep your voice steady. “She never said anything. Probably thought he had the wrong person.”

“Thats a relief. I didn’t want you to get in trouble over me.” Ellie sighed and the pair of you sat up when class began. Ellie kept her leg firmly against yours though and you were grateful for the comfort it offered.

When lunch came about Mrs Collins called your name and held you back while everyone else went to get food. You made you way up to her desk and she gave you a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” You promised her. Your mother had told everyone that you had been sick. You weren’t sure why it wasn’t a sin when she lied.

“Your mother told me you got a pretty nasty case of food poisoning?” Mrs Collins asked and you nodded, wondering was this another sin to pray for. “She also made a strange request.”

Your heart dropped and you looked back over your shoulder to where Ellie was waiting for you in the doorway, her back to you both. “Please don’t.”

“You want to tell me why she wouldn’t want you sitting by Ellie?” Mrs Collins asked and you shook your head, tears in your eyes. “If Ellie is hurting you or being mean to you then you can tell me.”

“No. She’s my best friend. Please don’t. I’m not allowed see her outside of school.” You explained in a rush, knowing you shouldn’t be sharing this much.

“Okay. It’s okay.” Mrs Collins insisted and you wiped at your face to dry the tears you didn’t mean to shed. “You and Ellie can stay beside each other. I’ll tell your mother I separated you both.”

///

“Only two weeks left.” You and Ellie were sixteen now, sitting with your backs against the school house. Well, Ellie was sitting back, you were a little more mindful of how the rough stone might hurt.

“What are we going to do then?” Ellie still didn’t understand the extent of your reasoning for why your mother couldn’t see you both being friends. She thought that you were old enough now to just make your own decisions.

“Well we could work together right? Your mom can’t stop that. You have to work in Jackson.” That much was true but you knew Ellie wanted to patrol just like Joel did. She had the urge to always be trying to save the world and you knew your mother wouldn’t allow it.

“You want to patrol. I’ll probably end up a waitress or in the greenhouses.” You sighed and ran a hand over your face. Ellie laughed a little and reached for your hand, tangling your fingers together and you paused, staring at them.

Ellie was turning steadily red but she didn’t let go, she tightened her grip and tugged so you’d turn to look at her. “I do want to patrol. But I want to spend time with you more. I can clean dishes or something if needs be.”

You stared at Ellie, your head tilted slightly as you studied her. She didn’t hide from you but she was blushing fully this time. You stared a second longer.

Oh.

“Ellie.” You sighed before laughing. She attempted to free her hand but you held on tighter. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“How?” She exclaimed and it seemed like she had been holding this in for a long time with how it burst out of her. “I know you’re like super religious and most religious people hate gay people and we’re best friends and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Ellie.” You laughed again before reaching out and clasping her face in your hands. You didn’t give her a second, pulling her in and kissing her firmly. “I would walk into hell gladly knowing that I’ve held heaven in my hands.*”

“Oh you’re so fucking gay.” Ellie laughed and kissed you again, her fingers tangling in your hair. Those words should’ve terrified you but you had come to terms with it years ago while you willingly took lashings for punishment. You knew you’d take any form of torture to get to this point.

“I can’t tell anyone. Not yet. My momma will find out but Ellie, I’ve got a plan.” You promised and she smiled, her hand moving from your hair to cup your cheek.

“I haven’t told Joel yet. It’s okay.” She promised, her forehead pressing to yours.

///

You’d had a plan. It had been a good plan. Your best plan yet. Your plan did not factor Ellie and her teeth into account. The small mark she had made, definitely an accident, had given you away. Your mother had always been more than suspicious of Ellie and it seemed that even though a small bruise could be from any number of things it only made sense that it was her when paired with swollen lips and a light in your eyes.

“No.” She held the belt out to you and for the first time you refused it, shaking your head and crossing your arms. Fire burned in your mothers eyes and her jaw clenched.

“You have sins you need to repent for. You’ll burn in hell.” She cautioned and you felt the tears finally fall from your eyes, your bravery slipping away.

“Momma I love her. I’ve been in love with her since before I knew what it was.” You sobbed and she looked even angrier if possible. “How can this be wrong?”

“No child of mine will embarrass me like this before God himself.” Your mother insisted and you lifted your hands in desperation. “I won’t stand for it.”

“What more can you do?” You asked her quietly, desperately. Your love for Ellie wasn’t a flaw and it couldn’t be a sin. You didn’t want to be fixed or cured or healed. Something that felt this pure couldn’t be anything other than a blessing.

“I told you. I won’t have it.” Your mother insisted and you stared at her, unable to understand her threat. “The Lord says suicide is a sin but surely he’d understand I just couldn’t be tainted by your sin.”

“Momma, don’t do that.” You couldn’t help your tears. “It’s not bad. It’s not!”

“It is and you know it. You wouldn’t have hidden it if you weren’t ashamed of your sin.” She told you and you choked back on your sobs. “You knew that you’d never be without sin but to go and do this. I knew since you were born that you were filled with sin but I didn’t think it was cause you were one of them!”

“Momma! You know I can’t change it. I can’t. I love her.” You were choking on the tears and she only shook her head. “You can’t do that, Momma. You can’t.”

“You want me to stay alive then you stop seeing her.”

///

“Hey Angel, you okay?” Ellie asked and you blinked at her before shaking your head.

“I can’t do this. I thought I could but I can’t.” Your back was raw from the amount of repenting you had required the evening before.

“Can’t do what?” Ellie asked, unsure.

“This. Us. I thought I could reconcile it but it’s not something I can allow myself to do.” You told her, tears already flowing down your cheeks.

“What? Allow yourself to what?” Ellie asked. “Be fucking happy?”

“I won’t be happy if I move out of my Momma’s. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving her there.” You told Ellie honestly. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise this before.”

“You can’t be serious.” Ellie stared at you, her face guarded like you were going to laugh and tell her it was a sick joke. “You are serious.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You wanted her to understand but she was too heroic. She would try help if she thought this wasn’t your decision.

“Yeah. So am I for not taking your fucking word for it the first day I met you. I should’ve sat with someone else.”

///

“Saw your girl started patrol today.” You looked up from the soapy water in the sink to where your mother was standing by the back door. You blinked at her, coming out of the daze you had been in. “That ain’t no job for a woman.”

She had been horrible the last few weeks. Telling you all about Ellie’s coming and goings when you refused to leave the house for anything other than work. Washing dishes down at the Bison. Everyone had to do their part, you hated doing yours.

It wasn’t a bad job per se. You could zone out and let muscle memory take over as you scrubbed the plates clean. No one talked to you much on account of your mother and it got you out of the house for a few hours every evening.

The problem was Ellie came to the diner every night with Dina and Jesse. She didn’t linger and you doubted that she even knew you were in the back. But you always found a second to pause when you heard her voice, as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

“You never had anything to say when any other women go on patrol. Maria’s been doing it since the walls went up.” Your head jerked back with her grip on your hair and her hand pressed to the spot between your shoulder blades causing you to hiss.

“I didn’t ask for your sass.” She warned and you blinked back tears from the pain. “I think you oughta get to praying.”

“I got work, Momma.” You told her and she gripped your hair tighter. Her hand dug into your back, nails pressing deep.

“Better go get the belt then if you’re in such a hurry.” Your mother spat and released your hair. “Every time you talk like that I get reminded that you’re a child of the devil.”

You had a hard time believing that having the devil for a mother would be any different than the Momma you had.

///

It was years before you saw the signs. You had turned twenty one under your mothers watchful glare. She threatened harm on herself if you so much as came home late from work. You wondered why you cared so much that she remained unharmed when you hadn’t been able to lie on your back for years.

It all became clear one night when you followed the noise of her downstairs. She was standing in the kitchen, looking around in confusion. “Baby, what’re you doing up so late?”

She hadn’t called you Baby in years. Not since before you had met Ellie. She claimed that no baby of hers could be full of sin. “Just checking you’re okay, Momma.”

“I’m fine. Just a little lost.” She told you, an airy laugh on her lips. “I can’t find the bathroom.”

She was standing in a puddle.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Dealing with her was both harder and easier after your discovery. Maria let you stay home and care for her when you went to her and explained what was happening. There wasn’t exactly a nursing home you could send her to.

She began to pass through phases, a different version of your mother every time you talked to her. Sometimes you had your Momma back, a sweet woman who told you how pretty you’d grown to be. Sometimes you had your mother, the one who remembered Ellie.

Then one morning, the month you were turning twenty two, you had no mother. She had fallen asleep in her rocking chair and that was where you found her.

You sat with her for a long time. Just staring at her and wondered when it had gotten to the point that you stopped caring about her. Her death didn’t seem to have done anything besides giving you a sense of freedom you had only ever felt once before with Ellie’s lips on yours and her hands in your hair.

You found it within yourself to change her and wash her. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to do it. You laid her out in her own bed and then made your way down to the clinic to get a doctor to finally free you from her.

///

You had elected not to have a funeral service for your mother. You hadn’t even attended her burial yourself. No one had liked your mother, not even you. Maria had tried to sympathize with you but you hadn’t let her. She was the only one who tried.

You found yourself moving out of her house and into a small one bedroom cottage Maria had offered up. You returned to the Bison to wash dishes. You lived a boring life without prayers or belts or a constant ache on your scalp from having your hair pulled out by the root.

You could read books and leave the dishes overnight and play music that didn’t mention Jesus. Your back healed up but would forever be scarred but you knew without a doubt that your pain was at an end.

It had ended alongside her heartbeat and you knew for sure it was a bad thing to think but you no longer punished yourself for bad thoughts.

You no longer punished yourself.

///

A knock on the door gave you a pause and you looked up from your book to the living room window but you couldn’t see your front porch from the angle you were sat at. Just the pouring rain that had washed into Jackson a couple of days ago.

You pushed yourself up and answered the door, expecting Maria who came to check up on you monthly to make sure you hadn’t succumbed to madness while being so isolated.

It wasn’t Maria. It was Ellie.

She was soaked, rain water running down her hair and face into her clothes. You couldn’t say anything and chose instead to just stare at her as she left a puddle on your porch.

“Your mom died?” She asked and you marveled in how you had gone from speaking to her every day for almost four years to have gone longer without her words aimed at you.

“She did.” You answered slowly after a few minutes of just the rain for background noise. You continued to stare at her.

“I’m sorry.” You blinked, falling out of your trance at the condolences she offered. You folded your arms across your chest.

“What do you want Ellie?” You didn’t mean to sound harsh but you didn’t want her apologies. You wanted her to leave so you could get on with your quiet life.

“I want to know if she was the reason.” Ellie stopped pretending the second you did, grim determination on her face.

“We were kids, Ellie.” You sighed and she wiped the water off her face and clenched her jaw. “You can’t be still thinking about it.”

“Still thinking about it?” She exclaimed. “I ain’t stopped thinking about you. I’ve spent the last six years wondering if your mom wasn’t around would we be together.”

“Ellie.” You sighed heavily, stepping back from the doorway. She looked panicked for a second and you opened the door wider. “Come in before you catch your death.”

///

You got Ellie clothes to change into and a towel to dry herself off. When she returned to your living room she was wrapped in your clothes, toweling her hair dry. You had lit the small fire in your living room and now you were standing by the window, watching the rain.

“I didn’t know she had died.” Ellie spoke quietly and you looked up at her, releasing a sigh. You took a seat on your sofa, inviting Ellie to sit next to you. “Maria mentioned it in passing while we were at dinner. I came straight over here.”

“She had dementia or Alzheimer’s. One of those. It was bound to happen.” You explained to her and she nodded slowly.

“I know you really loved her.” Ellie sighed and you turned your head to look at her.

“I didn’t. Not really. I had a really tough life with her.” You explained to Ellie and she nodded like she had always known that. She didn’t get to nod like that. She didn’t know the half of it. “I think she had her sickness my whole life. She was batshit insane.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Ellie asked and you shrugged. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been able to tell anyone. Mostly, you reasoned, you hadn’t known she was sick. How could you tell Ellie that you thought you were the problem? That you were so full of sin even your own mother couldn’t love you?

“It was my problem to deal with.” You told her honestly. “What are you really doing here?”

“To see if your okey. To see if there’s a chance we got it wrong at sixteen.” Ellie turned to face you, drawing her knees up to her chest. You couldn’t look at her.

“We?” You asked, picking at your nail beds and ignoring how close she was, how your body lit up in response.

“Yeah. We. You for calling it all off and me for letting you walk away.” You turned to look at her, incredulous. “I shouldn’t have given up.”

“That’s exactly what you should’ve done. Anything else would’ve made it so much worse.” You told her, pinching the bridge of your nose to ward off the headache you could feel coming.

“I could’ve helped!” Ellie insisted. “I could’ve given you the support you needed.”

“You couldn’t have made me straight!” You yelled, standing up from the sofa. You paced back to the window, staring out at the rain. “I needed to not be like this. You couldn’t have fixed that. She hated me.”

“She was your mother.” Ellie argued and you scoffed, fighting the urge to turn and look at her. “She had to have loved you.”

“She told me she’d kill herself if I went back to you.” You turned then, wanting to see the look in her eyes. The look of disgust because you gave in, you let her control you. But Ellie didn’t look disgusted, she looked horrified. “I came home one evening with swollen lips and this tiny mark on my jaw and she knew what we’d been doing. She told me that if I kept talking about loving you that she’d kill herself to not be stained by my sin.”

“She was sick. She didn’t know what she was-” your hand went to the hem of your T-shirt, pulling it up so that she could see your back. The criss cross of scars that overlapped. Years of torture and abuse. All of it culminating in this. “Angel.”

Ellie breathed that old nickname and you dropped your shirt but she caught it, having moved closer without your knowing. Her fingers ghosted over your skin and her breath came out shaky.

“When did this start?” Ellie asked and you laughed bitterly. “This isn’t a fucking joke. When did it start?”

“The day Joel asked for a sleepover. I told you she couldn’t know. I guess you just didn’t understand why.” She let your shirt drop and you turned around to find yourself face to face with her. “She told me that I was damned at five years of age. She used to make me pray in the dark for hours at a time. When I was twelve she made me hurt myself to repent for the sin of loving you. I never could. I repented for not being sorry instead.”

“I could’ve helped. I could’ve gotten you out.” Ellie sighed, her hand coming up to your cheek. You leaned into her and closed your eyes against the emotions that were welling up. “I could’ve fucking killed her for you.”

“I would’ve taken you up on that. Isn’t the awful?” You asked her but she shook her head, wrapping her arms around you. “I was so relieved when she died.”

“Guess I don’t have to feel bad for feeling the same way. I always knew it was her. Cause this, what’s going on with us, we might’ve been kids but I know what I felt, Angel. This was the real deal.” Ellie whispered against your neck and then you let it happen. You let the tears fall. You held her tightly and you sobbed for everything you could’ve had for the last six years.

///

You were sitting on the sofa, curled up against Ellie’s chest. Her hands softly stroked your hair and you were struck silent by the parallel of your mother doing the exact opposite, hurting you so violently.

“So you gonna cut me loose or keep me this time?” Ellie asked quietly. You looked up at her and without speaking cupped her cheek in your hand and pulled her down to your level. You pressed a sweet kiss to her lips and she smiled. “Not afraid of Hell any more?”

“If loving you leads me to hell then I’ll sit at the table with all the others who gave up the idea of an eternity of heaven for a short time with the true meaning of paradise.”

*Lyra Wren on tiktok

#ellie williams x afab reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #the last of us #tlou

231 notes · View notes

reysdriver · 1 year ago

Text

Roleplay | E.M.

Day 1 of Kinktober: Roleplay — eddie x fem!reader smut

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - roleplay, piv sex, unprotected sex, blowjob, fingering, edging sort of, creampie, light begging

words: 1.2k

Eddie rapped twice against your bedroom door to get your attention while you put on the finishing touches on your costume. “Are you alright, sweetheart? Let me know when I can come in, okay?”

You exhaled lightly and spoke up so your boyfriend could hear you from the hall. “I’m ready, Eds.”

He opened the door slowly, and you bet it was because he wanted to build his own anticipation for the moment he saw you. And when he did get a look at you, he was stunned. His eyes moved from the way you braided the front two locks of your hair, to the way you did delicate, sparkly makeup, and to the long chiffon dress you wore that let him get a faint view of your lingerie underneath.

When he had gotten home that night, you had told him you had a surprise for him—and you had implied it was sexual—but he never would have expected this.

Even though you were sure he would be into it, his silence could have been an indicator for anything. “Eddie? Do you like it?”

“You’re— You’re her.” He responded.

You knew exactly what he meant. You had attempted to dress up as the fairy princess in Eddie’s new Dungeons and Dragons campaign—the character he based off of you—and you were so glad he recognized it.

“Yeah.” You whispered, then repeated your previous question. “Do you like it?”

“I fucking love it.”

Eddie’s lust-ridden voice sent a chill up your spine and brought back your confidence.

“Yeah? Well, I was hoping you could be your character and I could reward you for saving me from the Arcane Brotherhood, would you like that?”

“Baby, that’s some shit out of my fucking fantasies.”

“Good. You can just lay back and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I don’t get a costume or anything like yours?” He asked, settling down on the bed.

You got on the bed and started straddling him. “Well, the goal is kind of to have us both be naked soon, so…” You shrugged, then leaned down to kiss him.

He kissed you back, then pulled away for a breath. Well, you thought it would be to take a breath. Instead, he kept talking. “I’m kind of digging the whole outfit though…”

You sighed exasperatedly. “Oh my god, Eddie. Do you want your reward for saving the fairy princess or not?”

He pulled you back down so you could kiss again. “Yes, absolutely. I’ll shut up now.”

You two were making out heavily, but you moved down to kiss Eddie’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone, and everywhere in between. Eddie tends to have wandering hands when you make out, but this time you had to stop him before they went too far down on you.

When he looked at you with a slightly confused face, you had to explain to him why you did it. “This is an expression of my gratitude for coming to my rescue. I’m sure the High Forest will be so relieved to have their princess back. I want to do something to show how grateful I am.”

He looked like he finally got it. “So I should just lay back like a paladin weary from a tiresome journey to rescue the princess?”

“Exactly.” You said with a smirk.

Then you scooted back a foot or so, just to sit beside Eddie’s legs so you could start undoing his belt and pulling down his pants enough to free his dick.

You looked up at him and batted your eyelashes while stroking his hardening member, trying to put on an innocent yet sexy face. “Is this okay, handsome paladin?”

He was already breathing heavily, but trying to calm himself. “It’s great, princess.”

“Tell me if anything is less than perfect, okay? I want this to be the best gift I can give you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey. So far, I love it.”

His compliments just egged you on, but you tried to hide your smile so he wouldn’t get too cocky. You leaned down and fit as much of him inside your mouth as you could. You knew you were doing alright so far because you heard Eddie choke out a moan with every swipe of your tongue against his cock.

You kept going, bobbing your head repeatedly, creating an amazing bedroom symphony when paired with his repeated moans.

Because you knew Eddie better than anyone, you knew that him beginning to get tense was the sign you had been waiting for to tell you that he was close to cumming.

Instead of continuing to suck him off, you let off of him, knowing exactly what it was doing to Eddie.

Eddie looked at you with aching eyes. “Honey, I was so close—”

“I know, but I thought you’d rather finish in your favourite place.” You pulled his pants off completely, then went to remove your dress as well.

“As much as I loved that dress, I’m so happy to see what’s underneath.”

You knew he would like it. In fact, you bought a set with a hole in the panties so you wouldn’t even have to take it off and Eddie could keep looking at it the whole time.

“Yeah? I bought it from some fairies in an oak tree who said any charming hero like yourself would love it.”

“And I do.” Eddie said as you straddled him again. “I mean, I didn’t come rescue you for the reward but I have to admit it’s incredible.”

“Well, I trust you, but I can’t be sure I’ve given a sufficient reward just yet.”

You lined him up with your entrance and lowered yourself onto him slowly. Eddie let out a groan of your name and brought his hands to your hips. You both let out some whimpers—quieter than you would if you didn’t have such thin walls—and you moved your hips to ride him properly.

You kept moving up and down while Eddie helped gently guide you. And even though you really wanted the night to be all about Eddie, you didn’t protest when he moved his hand to help move you along.

“I’m so close.” You said breathily.

He looked like he was holding back. “Me too, princess. I want to finish inside of you, right with you. That’d be the best part of this. Please, princess.”

“I’m right there, honey!”

With the perfect way Eddie was moving his thick fingers, plus the feeling of him releasing inside of you, it was impossible to hold off your climax.

You continued to ride him through both of your highs, and then you practically went limp on top of him. You kissed his jaw in the way Eddie always liked as a way to cool down, and he spoke again.

“If I write more characters based on you, can we do this again?”

You let out a giggle. “I’ll give you one night for every character, Eds.”

#xena's kinktober celebration #kinktober #roleplay #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

737 notes · View notes

perlelune · 1 year ago

Text

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: NON-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You do your best to avoid him for as long as you can.

You show up at the factory each day, diligent and focused on your work. You thread, dye and sew miles upon miles of fabric. It’s exhausting and repetitive but assists you well in burying the peculiar encounter. And if sometimes a particular shade of blue fabric stir memories of eyes you’d rather forget…you ignore that as well. It’s better that way. You narrowly escaped imprisonment, perhaps even death. No need to tempt fate once again.

But it’s no matter.

Because fate finds you anyway.

It happens as the end of your shift at the factory comes near. Your cold-bitten digits are interweaving two different colors of thread on a gigantic wooden loom. Same as the girls and boys surrounding you. They’re all quick and efficient, threading and weaving with the ease of practice. A lifetime of it. Some of them are as young as five years old. There’s a saying floating around the districts.

If one can walk, they can work.

You often wondered if that same logic applies to the Capitol’s children. Are they too expected to work until their fingers are numb with pain and their eyes red-rimmed with fatigue?

You somehow doubt it.

Once again, the weight of someone’s attention blankets your shoulders. You tense, the needle nicking your fingertip when your attention falters.

You curse and swipe away the blood beading on your finger.

Your head rises.

Anger simmers inside you at the sight of the smug face smirking at you from across the room.

Coriolanus.

He showed up one hour ago, switching places with another guard, and proceeded to stare at you since.

Dread pools in your gut. His gaze hasn’t strayed from you once.

What could the peacekeeper possibly want from you?

You have nothing, and it’s obvious he’s some rich kid from the Capitol who somehow found his way here.

“Your yarn is coming loose.”

Yara’s frenzied tone wrenches you away from your thoughts.

You look down, your forehead scrunching as you do. She’s right. The threads have broken out of their pattern, forming disgraceful zigzags over the loom.

Besides, there’s a minuscule crimson stain on the fabric. The pristine beige cloth is now ruined. This will come out of your pay.

Your ire grows. Your gaze narrows as it finds Coriolanus’. This is all his fault. He distracted you. Annoyance at the strange peacekeeper gleams inside you.

You bolt up from your stool.

“I have to go,” you announce, already gathering your satchel from the floor.

Yara’s eyes round. “Our shift’s not over yet,” she whispers below her breath, tossing wary glances at the guards. Your frown deepens. Any slight sign of disobedience could be seen as a hint of rebellion these days. It’s how much the Capitol wants to avoid a return to the Dark Days.

You smile at her in reassurance.

Yara was kind enough to show you the ropes when you started working at the textile factory. She even stayed late at night with you to teach you the most complex needlepoints.

Fidgeting, you apologize, “I’m sorry, but it’s an emergency. I’ve ruined it anyway.”

You don’t stick around for her response, rushing towards the nearest corridor to slip away.

A deep, teasing lilt echoes behind you in the hallway.

“Still trying to fly away from me, huh?”

Your heart leaps. Not again.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you chide as you keep hastening across the hallway. It doesn’t matter though. A stolen glimpse at your back reveals to you that Coriolanus’ long legs easily maintain pace with your frantic strides.

You unleash a weary sigh.

“I shouldn’t but I am, pretty bird.”

You can hear the smile in his voice and it infuriates you more.

“Leave me alone, Coriolanus-”

A sharp breath ripples through your throat as warm fingers suddenly clasp around your arm.

“What are you…”

The large hand that drapes over your mouth quiets your budding protest.

Ignoring your muffled shouts, he pulls you flush against his frame and drags you into a dark room inside another hallway.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you grab at anything you can. He’s undeterred by your feistiness, only unhanding you once he’s slammed the door shut.

A chill dances on your spine as every deadbolt is meticulously slid into place by him.

Leaning back against the locked door, Coriolanus’s eyes drag over you. He drinks you in for a while as you retreat, as far away from him as the small room allows.

Uncrossing his arms, the blonde starts inching towards you.

Your nerves flare up at his impending proximity. A heavy sigh drops from his chest.

“Why do you make that face when I’m only trying to help you?”

“I don’t want any help from you. I want nothing from you,” you shout.

He tilts his head, closing the distance. He shoves his hand in his pocket, seeming to search for something. You freeze.

Shock rocks through you when he conjures a familiar vial, shaking it in front of your face.

“Hm, Are you sure?” he taunts.

The urge to steal it from him has your fingertips tingling. But you tried that before, and it didn’t work in your favor. So you snuff out the impulse.

“How did you find out?”

“I have my ways.”

You search his stark cobalt orbs. They give nothing away.

“I just want to take care of you,” he adds.

“Why?”

You startle as his long fingers creep under your chin. You didn’t realize how close he’d gotten, now bending over you so you’re at eye-level.

“Because I can. I could make your life easier.”

His tender inflection, oddly intimate, makes discomfort pool in your stomach.

“I don’t need…”

“Take it.”

As you do nothing to take the bottle he holds up in his fist, Coriolanus exhales wearily.

You gasp when he shoves the vial between your trembling palms.

“Don’t be stupid,” he admonishes. “That cousin of yours won’t make it through winter without these. They’re antibiotics.”

You stare down at the amber bottle. Your shoulders slump. You hate to admit it but he’s probably right. Tilly’s coughing fits are progressively getting worse. She can hardly breathe properly most days. It hurts to see and you’ve been praying for a way to help her.

And now you have that way. Is it even fair to Tilly to turn his help down because of your own personal hang ups with the peacekeeper?

His motives elude you but you’re not sure it matters at that moment.

Tilly’s life is on the line.

Your fingers squeeze around the vial.

“I know what they are. It’s written on the bottle.”

Interest springs in his cobalt gaze.

“You can read? Interesting,” he hums. “Most people can’t in the districts.”

Your cheeks heat at his assumption. A respectable amount of people in the districts can in fact read. Not the majority, but a few at least. The knowledge just isn’t widespread enough and schools are a luxury most districts cannot afford.

“My grandmother taught me when I was young,” you defend.

He pauses, studying your defiant features.

His hand wraps around your hand holding the bottle. You try not to shrink, afraid he’ll take it back.

His thumb sweeps over your knuckles.

“These are very rare and hard to get. Don’t let your pride get in the way, pretty bird.”

“I won’t,” you mumble.

Another bag materializes before you. Coriolanus nudges it in your arms before you can think to protest. “Take that too.”

You glare at him suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Food, water, supplies.”

Grounded in disbelief, you peer inside the bag. Your jaw hangs slack. He wasn’t lying. The bag is brimming with rations. There’s even a few slices of bread and cheese on top. This has to be worth at least a hundred coins.

You purse your lips. “I can’t accept…I have nothing to repay you.”

Corolianus sighs, keeping the bag in your hands with his steely grip as you attempt to return it.

“Then just remember you live because of me,” he says. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips. “That’s the only payment I require.”

You snort. It can’t possibly be that simple, can it?

But Coriolanus’ features harbor no mirth. Skepticism heightens your pitch.

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

You nod. “Okay, I will.”

Displeasure flickers in his gaze. His fingers sneak below your chin to angle it upward, forcing you to drown in his cobalt stare.

“No, I want to hear you say it, sweet bird.” His tone is laced with a solemnity that wasn’t there before. Your stomach knots. “That you live by the will of Coriolanus Snow.”

A shaky breath flows out of you. You’re suddenly reluctant under his keen scrutiny.

Still, your voice comes out a tremulous croak.

“I live because of you, Coriolanus Snow.”

His entire face lights up with your words, a strange glow appearing in his orbs.

For some reason, you feel as if you just tied a noose around your own neck.

You take a sip of your beer, basking in the bitter, heady aftertaste. Usually, you’re not much of a drinker, but it’s the first true respite you’ve gotten from the blue-eyed peacekeeper in many weeks and you plan on enjoying it.

A tavern wouldn’t be your first choice but Yara invited you and it occurred to you this isn’t the kind of place a boy smelling like old money and roses would visit.

It’s rare for you to be anywhere these days without his disarming presence hovering in a corner of the room.

You’ve even considered abandoning your job at the factory altogether. But it’s not like a girl like you can change careers on a whim. You have no connections, no skill, no talent whatsoever. Nothing but your hard-earned ability to weave threads of fabrics together.

Maybe the mines at the northern end of the district.

It’s far from a tempting prospect. The work is downright dangerous. But at least it would shield you from the peacekeeper’s relentless scrutiny.

“Your shadow isn’t here today," Yara notes.

You drag your eyes away from the band playing on stage.

“My shadow?”

“That pretty boy peacekeeper who follows you around," she elaborates, her lips curved in amusement. You grimace. If only she knew. There isn’t a shred of mirth in your current predicament.

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t follow me around.”

You refrain from saying he does a plethora of other things that puzzle you and stir your discomfort.

You refuse to trust him, but thanks to him your cousin has been getting noticeably better, even able to walk on her own again now. It’s a relief. Tonight she’s at friend’s and gets to laugh, play and be a regular kid again.

Besides, though it pains you to recognize it, your belly’s fuller than it’s been in a long time.

It shames you to admit it, but it took you no time to cave in and gobble down the food he offered. Hunger does strange things to people.

You loathe yourself for yielding but the feeling of an empty stomach is infinitely worse than that of your wounded pride.

"He is pretty though," your friend says, glancing away dreamily.

Your face warms. "I really don’t care how he looks. I just wish he’d go pester someone else."

"Hm, fair." She drinks from her jug and shrugs. "He could just be bored. I’m sure he’ll stop at some point."

The conversation reaches a halt when a brown-haired guy around your age with a scar across his face stops at your table.

“Can I ask you to dance?” he asks. His cheeks redden as he awaits your response. A quiet glance passes between you and Yara. You kick her under the table when she nearly lets out a chuckle.

Endeared by the boy’s bashful manner, you answer with a smile, “Sure, why not.”

You let the stranger drag you into a dance, your worries fading into the buoyant, lively notes played by the band and the boy’s nonchalant grin.

It’s the kind of normalcy you’ve been longing for.

Engrossed in the moment, as the boy slips a hand around your waist, an audible gasp spills out of you when he pulls away from you out of the blue.

Or rather is wrenched away from you.

Your brows rise to your hairline.

You gape in horror, the sight of Coriolanus hauling the boy up by his lapels striking you mute. His features are taut with anger as the boy’s hands rise defensively. A mix of befuddlement and fear decorates his features.

Guilt needles your chest. You never expected the blond to show up here of all places. Paranoia seizes the chaotic train of your thoughts. Was he here all along, watching you like a hawk the entire time? Is he always here, never wandering too far from wherever you are?

Fear coils your insides.

"Hey," you call out, relief trickling inside you when your legs move again. You make a beeline to Coriolanus.

“What is wrong with you?” you shout, trying to pry him off the poor boy.

It’s not the useless hand scratching his bicep but rather your tone that appears to jerk him out of his trance.

His grip on the boy loosens as he whirls to you. The stranger wastes no time in running away. You can’t even blame him. You can’t imagine there’d be many repercussions if the blond harmed him, but the opposite can’t be said.

Coriolanus’ hands slowly lower before balling into fists.

Irate blue eyes flare as they fall on you.

You recoil.

“With me?” he growls, crowding your space. "His grubby paws were all over you."

You blink in disbelief, shocked by his accusing tone. You did nothing wrong. It’s not like he can tell you who to dance and not dance with. "G-Grubby…what? I’m not some damsel in need of rescuing, Coriolanus."

He squints at you, displeasure evident on his angular features.

His hand latches onto your arm, yanking you towards the exit. You can barely keep up with his furious stomps.

“I think it’s time we had a talk. Come with me.”

“I’d rather stay here."

He ignores you, his grip on you turning deathly. Tears burn the back of your eyes.

“No…”

You toss a desperate look above your shoulder to find your friend just as shocked as you are. She won’t help you. No one will.

Your stomach sinks.

The tears break past the confine of your lashes.

He takes you outside. The chilly air skates across your skin, spreading gooseflesh over it. The silver glow of the moon lights the tortuous path he takes through dim, narrow alleyways. This is nowhere near your cabin and your panic swells.

You dig your heels into the ground, resisting.

Coriolanus heaves out a weary exhale. He hunkers down to pick you up. You squeal, flabbergasted by his nerve. He hoists you on his shoulders as if you were a sack of grain, taking firm, irate steps into the night.

"You can’t do this," you weep, slamming as hard as you can into his back.

Hardly flinching, he scoffs before stating, “I don’t remember asking for your permission, birdie."

#coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #tbosbas fanfiction #hunger games #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #divider credit: samspenandsword

1K notes · View notes

anonymityisfunwriter · 10 months ago

Text

our day will come.

a.n. someone needs to take away my amy winehouse records asap. or don't, if you like these angsty little fics.

summary: you tell him over and over again, your day will come. you swear it will. the sun will shine on you if he gives it time. your day will come. one way or another. pairing: bucky barnes x reader cw: character death and major angst Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

4 years ago...

you rest your forehead against his forehead, tucking strands of his long hair away from his face, "don't fall in love with me yet, soldier."

"why?" he grunts, his fingers tightly gripping your waist.

"because it's not our time. not yet." you rest your hand on his chest, keeping him at arm's distance. "because our day will come, and what a glorious day it will be."

3 years ago...

"you're upset."

he faces away from you, his shoulders rising and falling with angry heavers. you reach for his shoulder, steadying them. "am i not supposed to be?"

"no." he turns to face you, his jaw tight, his face weary and worn. you cup his cheek, doing your best to soothe the worry he wears on his face. "our paths will cross again. our day will come."

"and until then? what am i supposed to do knowing you're out there fighting and i'm stuck here in cryo?"

"you have faith, my love."

he rests his hand against yours, the one caressing his cheek with a gentleness he had long forgotten. "i thought you said we weren't supposed to fall in love yet."

"our day will come." you swear it will. "one day, the sun will shine on us. just be patient."

2 years ago...

"bucky," you sigh. your eyes flash to your packed gear. "my love, it's simply not our time yet."

"you keep saying that!" he shouts in frustration, sitting at the edge of his bed in his wakandan hut. "when will it be our time? when will it be our day?"

"i don't know," you admit.

he cups the back of your neck. "we're waiting for a time that may never come. what if this is all we get? right here and now? what if this is our time?"

"we'll know when it's our time. it will come," you insist. "i'm sure of it."

his pleading eyes bore into yours. "how do you know that?"

"i see it. in my dreams. in my heart. it's right over the horizon. one day, we'll feel the sun shine on us."

"dreams aren't always our reality," he reminds you. "there's always going to be another fight around the corner."

"perhaps." you softly exhale, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. he takes your hand, urging you back to his bed. "but it won't be our fight anymore. our battles dwindle day by day. and right now, our battles force us into a goodbye. it won't be forever. one day, our fates will align."

you lie beside him. you can tell he doesn't quite believe you. he strokes the hair from your face, stroking your cheek with his calloused fingertips. "what will it look like? our day?"

you can see it in your mind. even if he can't.

a day without war looming over the horizon. a day where he could lie beside you without worrying about your next goodbye. a day when you could look over at his sleeping face without cuts and bruises, from battles you were fighting both alone and together, privately and publicly, marring his peace.

a glorious day, indeed.

"it'll be beautiful," you explain, resting your head on his chest. you listen to the steady beat of his heart, he strokes up and down your spine in perfect synchrony. "there'll be no more tears, no more pain or heartache. and we'll always stay like this. we'll have everything. we'll know the joy of falling in love over and over again. we'll know it every single day."

"what if i've already fallen in love?"

"one day falling in love won't hurt so much. one day we won't need to say goodbye." you lie with him, holding onto him for as long as you can. your next goodbye is so close, his arms around you only wards them off for so long, but it wouldn't always be like this. you were sure of it. "our day will come, my love."

1 year ago...

you don't realize it until it's too late, until the damage is irreparable. he sucks in a breath, clutching his bloody abdomen. he sinks to his knees, falling in a heap.

"bucky?" you scream, scrambling to his side. you lean over him, descending into a full panic. your heart crumbles along with the future you planned with him, all before your very eyes. "no, no, no! please, please, please."

your hands search for the wound through the gushing blood. he's losing too much too fast. even for a super soldier.

his jarringly cold hand, a terrifying deviation from his normal warmth, reaches out to stop you. he grips your trembling hand, holding it tightly. he strokes calming patterns into the back of your hand. he's accepted what you never would. his time has come.

tears burn, slipping down your cheeks. "no. no. it's not your time. please."

he looks up at you, smiling. all the years of worry, of agony, of torment have melted off his face. he looks at peace as he lies in a pool of his own blood. his flesh hand rests against your face as he mutters his last words, "our day will come, my love."

now...

a choked whimper leaves your mouth. you look down, watching blood slowly soak through your shirt. a single shot. right between your ribs.

the agent responsible takes off, leaving you all alone. you went off on your own. no one was coming to save you. not this time.

you slump to the ground, your head lying against the hard pavement. your eyes squeeze shut, feeling as the life drains from you.

the warm whisper of a summer breeze tells you to not spend your last moments on this earth shrouded in darkness like you'd done for the last year, it tells you to open your eyes, so you do.

brightness bursts forth as you smile up at the blue sky, the sun finally shining down on you. it reminds you of him, of the blue eyes you held so dear. it reminds you of your promise to him. a day that would shine brightly on you, a day for only the two of you.

you’re on the brink of fulfilling your promise.

you lie on the ground, staring up at the sky. tears fall from the corner of your eyes, down to your ear. you look over at the vast, unending horizon, just like you pictured all those years ago.

you smile as warmth consumes you. it's as beautiful and glorious as you promised him it would be. “our day has come, my love.”

Anon's 1K Celebration Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064

224 notes · View notes

mae-lou-ron · 2 months ago

Text

For Granted

Summary: Your beloved Gregor returns from a weeks-long mission for the clone underground, and after a long night filled with debriefings, he can’t wait to show you just how much he missed you while he was gone.

Pairing: Captain Gregor x f!reader

Warnings: 🚨 NSFW - SMUT AHEAD 🚨, 18+ MDNI, explicit sexual content and language, established relationship, mutual pining, cockwarming, unprotected PiV, edging, delayed orgasm, praise, soft!Dom Gregor, pleasure!dom Gregor?, oodles of fluff, Gregor can't keep his eyes (or hands) off you, color system safe words (only green used), aftercare, this is what I call a plot/smut/plot sandwich.

Word Count: 4,700

A/N: GOBBLE GOBBLE GREGOR GIRLIES. Happy to report I am posting this way earlier than I thought would be possible. (I finally did it @jetii, @captn-trex @lonewolflupe— again thank you for your constant inspiration and encouragement) This is the first smut I’ve ever posted and I guess decided to just go for it. I don’t know what to tell you, I just feel like Gregor would be such a soft and needy little pleasure dom. Okay, bone apple tea my fellow feral goblins. DO NOT PERCEIVE ME.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late—very late.

The away team shuttle had touched down hours ago, but before you could greet Gregor properly, Rex had swooped in and intercepted him before he even made it down the gangplank. Their mission to the ruins of Tipoca City had proven successful, and Rex wanted to know everything.

For nearly two weeks, they dove beneath the old cloning facility's wreckage, searching the depths for anything that survived the orbital bombardment—especially for anything that could help them better understand the inhibitor chips. As you observed him from across the holotable, you noted the exhaustion that marked your beloved's features. His bloodshot eyes had dark circles beneath them, and though he tried his best to stay alert and focused, the weariness was clearly setting in. Yet, despite his current state, Gregor's gaze kept finding its way back to you, his lips curving into a small smile whenever your eyes met.

You listened and updated the data banks while Rex thoroughly questioned Gregor and his team about their operation. When Rex was finally satisfied with what was recovered, the meeting adjourned. As you gathered your things, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Gregor, hoping this was finally the moment for your long-awaited reunion—but he remained deep in conversation with Rex, their heads bent together. You sighed inwardly but couldn't help glowing with admiration for him.

He was probably the most lighthearted of his brothers, but Gregor showed unwavering dedication to his work—particularly when it involved Rex. After all, Rex had orchestrated Gregor's rescue from the Empire by sending the Bad Batch to extract him, saving Gregor from the Empire's grim plans for clone troopers like himself.

Rex's relentless pursuit to understand and neutralize the inhibitor chips strengthened Gregor's dedication to the mission. For Gregor, helping Rex wasn't just about loyalty—it was about preventing other clones from enduring the same fate. This devotion extended to everyone Gregor held dear, including you. He had become not only your lover but your best friend and closest ally in the growing clone rebellion. You had become one of the few anchors in each other’s lives that had been plagued with uncertainty.

From your first meeting, you were irresistibly drawn to him—and he made no effort to hide his magnetic attraction to you. Even now, his keen eyes would seek you out first whenever he entered a room. True to form, Gregor's gaze shifted to you over Rex's shoulder again, silently expressing his longing to be near you after so many days apart. You caught his eye and flashed a playful smirk, pressing a fingertip to your lips before extending it toward him. He would always wink in return. Though your relationship was no longer a secret, you both treasured this little ritual—a wordless exchange of adoration between the two of you.

Back in your quarters, you changed into your sleep clothes and settled into bed. Propped against pillows with your data pad in hand, you intended to review the new data decryptions while waiting for Gregor's return, hoping he might have more enticing ways to keep you awake. But the warmth of your bed and the quiet hum of recycled air lulled you to sleep with surprising swiftness. Your eyes grew heavy, thoughts of him blurred behind your lids until you drifted off.

A short while later, you stirred from a light sleep when you felt the bed dip. With gentle hands, Gregor retrieved your fallen data pad and slid under the covers behind you. His strong arms enveloped you, drawing you against his chest.

"Stars, I've missed you, my darling," Gregor sighed into the space between you. Your eyes fluttered open as his lips pressed into the back of your shoulder, sending a thrill down your spine.

The familiar spicy scent of him filled your nose—he must have hit the fresher before coming to bed. You hummed contentedly and turned within his arms to face him, your lips curling into a sleepy smile. "Missed you too," you murmured.

Gregor's tired eyes were filled with warmth and adoration in the dim light. His hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. "Sorry I'm late..."

"S'okay," you leaned into his touch. "You're here now, and at least I know you're not just another dream," you said into his chest as you yawned.

Gregor's heart thrummed at your words. The thought of you dreaming about him stoked the ever-present desire he seemed to hold for you. "How's the burn?" he asked instead, softly moving his hand down, fingertips skimming over the fresh scars on your hip.

"All healed now. Rex was right, of course," you grumbled. The former captain had benched you from field work due to the blaster fire that grazed you on your last mission. Though you'd insisted it was healed enough, Rex wouldn't budge. You knew he was right, but being sidelined grated your nerves— especially since it was your intel they were operating on.

"You really scared me for a minute there, you know," Gregor whispered, his voice lilted with emotion as his fingers traced the newly healed scar.

You kissed the tip of his nose and gave him a knowing smile. "You should know better than anyone, love. It takes more than that to keep someone down," you murmured, covering his hand with your fingertips. A pitchy chuckle escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, recognizing the echo of his own resilient spirit in your words. But his face fell incrementally as he found his next words.

"I still wish you could have been there, on Kamino," he confessed, his voice solemn. He didn’t have to say anything, but you knew how strange returning to Kamino was going to be for him. He had his brothers with him, but you’d hoped to be there for him too.

"You just wanted a chance to see me in my swimming gear," you quipped instead.

Gregor's eyes sparkled as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth with a quiet rumble. "Can you blame me? Thinking of you in any state of undress was all I had to keep me sane out there," his words and lips danced against your cheek.

You squirmed in his embrace as his hand trailed up and down your body, fingertips once again sweeping over the swell of your hip. "But I always love seeing my cyare like this…" he added, his warm hand giving you a playful squeeze, referring to the teeny tiny shorts you often wore around your shared quarters, just for him.

“Oh? And why is that?” You said with a raised eyebrow, feigning ignorance at how his eyes would habitually follow you around whenever you wore them. Not to mention the mischief he would promise when he saw you wearing any of his clothing, and tonight you had grabbed one of his shirts to sleep in.

“Because it’s what you’re comfortable in,” he sighed contentedly as his fingers slipped under the hem, grazing the soft skin at the small of your back.

Being under his focus with such reverence made your heart pound in your ears, his magnetic touch constantly drawing you in. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw. "Will you just kiss me, already?" you whispered, forgetting your teasing.

Gregor hummed as his lips met yours, sweet and gentle, his hands rediscovering every curve and contour. You melted into his radiating warmth, the steady rhythm of his heart. When you nibbled his bottom lip, it earned you a deep moan and a roll of his body against yours. Your fingers wove through his damp hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, his tongue moving softly against yours.

Your lips danced together in a sensual rhythm, exploring and tasting with unhurried devotion as his fingers threaded through your hair, cradling the back of your head. Each sweep of his tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine, the kiss deepening with an intensity that made your toes curl and your heart race. Through every tender touch, he conveyed how deeply he'd missed you, and a familiar heat had bloomed between you fueled by days of delayed desire. The warmth of it coursed through your veins, spurring you on.

Eager to feel his skin against yours, you tugged off your shirt and pushed at his. Gregor chuckled softly and obliged, pulling off his shirt with deliberate slowness before tossing it aside. Under your fingertips, his body felt electric as you traced the familiar scars adorning his soft, golden skin. A shiver ran through him at your touch, and he groaned when your lips found his shoulder.

"Darling, I need you…" he purred, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts. His voice dropped lower, thick with desire. He paused, eyes intense and yearning as they locked with yours. "I've thought of you every night. Your kiss, your smile, the sounds you make for me." His fingers gripped your hips possessively, sure to leave marks. "Tell me, meshla," he breathed. "Did you think of me too?"

You let out a soft whine, your head falling against his chest as a breathy "Yes," escaped your swollen lips.

"Tell me..." he implored, his body rolling into yours once more. "Did I hear you say you dreamt of me?"

"Of course I did," you confessed softly, leaning close. Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear as intimate desires and details of your self-indulgent dreams tumbled from your lips. Gregor shivered, your warm breath tickling his skin. His fingers flexed as he strained to catch every hushed syllable. These whispered words were for him alone.

His chest rumbled with a deep, guttural sound. "Cyare," he whispered, the word dripping with honey.

You lifted your hips as he slid your shorts down your legs. Once free, he swooped in to kiss you again, this time with more fervor as his hands roamed your newly exposed skin. He swallowed the soft gasp that escaped your lips when his fingers dipped between your legs, growling appreciatively at how ready you were for him.

You whined at his touch, your fingertips curling around the base of his neck. Gregor sighed, his breath hot against your shoulder as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. You heard him chuckling quietly as his fingers teased your sensitive flesh. "…and I’ve barely touched you yet,” he teased.

You huffed in response and started pushing his shorts over his hips, firmly grasping a handful of his taught backside in the process causing him to hoot and giggle softly. "I told you what I’ve been thinking about… come here…" you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. Once free of his own clothing, you hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him to you. Gregor hissed at the contact, his hips instinctively rocking against yours. You felt the head of his length glide along your entrance and up to your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

Gregor let out a deep hum, gathering his self control. "I can't say no to you," he grunted, slowly sliding his length back up and down a few times before notching at your entrance. His lips met your forehead as he eased into you. You bit your lip as your body welcomed him, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden fullness. Despite the delicious sting of him at first, you craved him—eager for more, for all of him. But Gregor picked up on your body’s signal and paused. His head came back to regard you, eyes filled with concern and love.

"Cyar'ika," he whispered tenderly. His thumb traced your cheek and trailed down to your lips. You smirked, drawing the digit into your mouth with a soft moan, swirling your tongue around it. Gregor's eyes locked onto yours, awestruck at the sensation. "That's it…good girl," he purred, the wolfish smile that followed his praise sent a shiver down your spine. He withdrew his thumb from your mouth with a quiet pop, and brought it between your bodies, using the wetness to circle your clit.

Your body quivered, soft moans and whimpers escaping your lips as he continued his feather light touches, sending more of that delicious heat coursing through you. Your walls fluttered with pleasure, silently urging him to fully sheath himself within you. As his hips finally met yours, you both exhaled deeply, savoring the intense connection of being completely joined together.

"Let’s stay like this for a little while, hm?," he murmured against your hairline between soft kisses. "I just want you close," he breathed, his hand trailing tenderly along your spine.

You hummed in confirmation, melting into his affection. "I love you," you sighed, fingers combing through his hair. Your bodies fit together perfectly, hearts beating as one, breaths mingling in gentle pants. Being with Gregor, it never felt like enough—you both craved an impossible closeness. These tender moments were precious, when he held you like this, driven by his pure need to feel you around him, to eliminate any space between you.

"And I love you." Gregor's kiss was so tender it made your head swim. His lips traced reverently across your skin, each caress a silent vow, his heart full at how perfectly you melded together. When the kisses and touches naturally grew more heated, you felt him stir within you as your bodies instinctively began to move. With gentle purpose, Gregor rolled you, pressing your back into the mattress and caging you in with his large frame. His lips found that spot on your neck as he began a slow, intense rhythm that drew a litany of soft moans and whimpers from you. Your nails trailed down Gregor's back as he pressed against that sweet spot deep inside you. He dragged his length almost completely out before thrusting back in, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Stars… cyar’ika, you…" he panted, his movements becoming more deliberate. You wrapped your legs around him fully, urging him deeper, whimpering in is ear to do it again. The tension between you reached its peak all too quickly, weeks of anticipation setting your every nerve ending on fire. Gregor murmured sweet praises against your skin, intent on bringing you there together. You teetered on the edge, your body trembling with each slow thrust. "Gregor," you breathed in a desperate plea. "I'm..."

“I know,” he grunted. “I’ve got you…” He gentled his movements to a pace he knew would send you over. He felt your entire body tense, arching into him as your climax struck you with a sudden intensity. A shuddering moan escaped you as your hand in his hair tightened, tugging at the strands. He couldn't hold back any longer—the way your walls fluttered around him, squeezing him so tightly, your grip in his hair, the sounds you were making—it was all too much, and he gladly fell over the edge with you.

His hips jerked as he moaned your name, pressing flush against yours as he found his release inside you. You held him close while you both trembled and panted through waves of pleasure. His hips rolled gently against yours through the aftershocks. As the hazy bliss settled over you both, Gregor began dotting your face and neck with tender kisses.

“Gregor…” you protested lazily, lips curling in a fond smile. He always melted into his softest self in the afterglow.

He chuckled quietly, nuzzling your neck. "What? You know I can’t ever get enough of you…" His lips brushed against your skin, making you tremble slightly. You were grinning ear to ear now, despite your half-hearted protest.

“That makes two of us,” you said huskily, floating down from your high.

You lay tangled together in peaceful silence, your breathing and heartbeats gradually returning to normal. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours created a soothing rhythm that made you feel completely at ease. A while later, when your combined arousal began to slip down your thigh, Gregor shifted, preparing to retrieve something to clean you both up.

“Don't you dare," you warned teasingly, tightening your entire body around him, making his breath hitch.

“Cyar’ika…” he said in a low, playful voice, twitching inside you. “Careful now…”

You smirked, loving the way his voice dropped an octave. "Or what?" you challenged, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

Gregor chuckled, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Oh, my darling," he chuckled lightly, his hand sliding down your body and gripping your ass, making you burst into giggles, "You love playing with fire, don’t you,"

"Mmm, I do when it encourages you to ravish me all night, love," you said with a dramatic flair, unable to hide the mirth from your voice, reminding you of the intimacy you’ve built with Gregor. It was fiery and magnetic, but always fun. You loved to push each other’s buttons to see how far you could go. After all, you cherished these quiet moments together when there was no need to rush.

Gregor groaned at your words, his grip on you intensifying. "Oh, you're in for it now," he rasped as he swiftly rolled onto his back, pulling you over with him to straddle his hips. He sat upright and curled his hand around the base of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss. The sound that escaped you at this new angle was absolutely sinful, making him twitch inside you once again. He immediately began a gentle pace, guiding your hips into his shallow thrusts. You gripped his shoulders tightly, seeking an anchor amid the electricity firing deep within you. Your oversensitive bundle of nerves dragged against the base of his length, making you grind down on him more desperately.

Sensing your growing urgency, Gregor gently slowed your movements. His hands caressed your sides soothingly as he looked up at you with adoration. "Shhh cyar'ika, look at me…" he murmured, his voice low and tender. Your eyes fluttered open to gaze into his, dark and warm and focused on you. "I know, it feels so good." His voice strained, thumbs traced circles on your hips as he guided you back into that slower, more deliberate rhythm Gregor loved to torture you with. You whimpered at the change of pace, but soon found yourself melting into the languid, sensual motion. Gregor's eyes never left your face, enjoying watching you give in. "That's it, just feel," he whispered. "There’s no rush. I’ve got you…"

Gregor's movements periodically slowed to a halt, prolonging the intense pleasure building between you. Each time, he held you close, guiding you both toward that long-awaited peak. His arm snaked beneath you, holding you to him with effortless strength, preventing you from taking him completely. He knew exactly how much to give, bringing you to the edge over and over. He savored the sounds you made during the slow, frustrating dance, careful not to overstimulate as he kept you balanced on the edge of a knife.

Your body trembled, every nerve ending alive and hypersensitive, your breaths came in short, desperate moans. You clung to him, nails digging into his back and his scalp as you fought against the overwhelming urge to let go, somewhere between savoring every exquisite moment of him inside you and every cell in your body screaming for release. Gregor felt your body go rigid and quiver, he glanced down noticing how tightly your toes were curled, then up to your eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

"Cyar'ika, what's your color?" he managed to say through the haze. He himself was hanging by a thread.

"Green," you groaned gently. "Please, I need..."

Gregor's eyes snapped open at your words, his grip on you stuttering. "Tell me what you need," he nearly growled. "I need to hear you say it, cyar'ika."

“Please...” you breathed. “I need to come."

With a low groan of approval, Gregor knew he’d pushed you to a new limit, and captured your lips in a soft kiss, slowly lowering you down fully onto his length once more. "Then come for me, my love, let go…" he murmured against your lips as he loosened his hold on you incrementally, encouraging you to writhe against him at your own pace. He swallowed the moans that escaped your throat as you did so, your fingers tangling in his hair again as you finally let yourself go.

He held you to him as your body shook, waves of ecstasy sweeping through you, your inner walls pulsing wildly around Gregor's length. He buried his face in your shoulder, his own climax following yours as he thrust himself deep inside with a low, guttural sound. You clung to each other, riding out the lingering tremors, your core gradually relaxing its grip on him. Hearts raced and chests heaved as you both savored the moment. With one more gentle rock of his hips, he pulled you down, creating a delicious pressure that sent one final, intense ripple of pleasure coursing through you, reducing whatever composure you had left and turning you into a whimpering mess.

“Thats it,” he soothed as you collapsed against him, head lolling forward as he secured you against his broad chest. You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as your breathing slowly steadied. Gregor's fingers continued their gentle caress along your skin, calming your tense muscles and fluttering heart.

“You did so well,” he praised. “We haven’t gone that long before,” he grinned at you, giggling softly, a sheen of sweat on his skin.

You chuckled softly, feeling an ache in your hips and knees. "Mmm, I think we both needed that," you murmured, wincing slightly as you shifted your legs around his frame.

“Here, I’ve got you,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he helped you shift positions, knowing your joints sometimes didn’t love it as much as you did.

His strong arms cradled you as he maneuvered you off him, finally slipping out and eliciting a soft sigh from you. He bit his lip, barely suppressing a groan as he glanced at the evidence of your passion. Once you were settled, he quickly jumped out of bed and disappeared into the fresher, returning moments later with a warm cloth.

His fingertips trailed up the outside of your knee, reminding you he was still there. You smiled and opened up for him to gently clean you up. His touch was tender as he took care of both of you. Once finished, he tossed the towel aside and crawled back onto the bed and got to work on massaging the soreness from your legs.

You sighed contentedly as Gregor's skilled hands worked out the tension in your joints. "You're too good to me," you murmured sleepily. He responded with a soft chuckle, his touch gentle yet firm as he eased away any lingering discomfort. “Love, I know you’re exhausted, come here…”

He chuckled and planted tender kisses on each knee before settling beside you, drawing you close against his chest. You nestled into his warmth, savoring the lazy patterns he traced on your back with his fingertips.

You tilted your head up to press a gentle kiss beneath his chin, savoring the closeness. “I’m so happy you’re home…”

Gregor sighed contentedly. “Me too.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should bring up his time on Kamino. The topic always felt delicate, and you didn't want to stir up difficult memories. But his peaceful expression gave you courage.

“How was it being back there?" you asked softly.

“Well, the first few days were…strange, but not in the way I thought they would be,” he confessed quietly.

“How so?” You pressed a chaste kiss to the side of his neck, absentmindedly inhaling his scent.

“Some clones considered Kamino their home, but I’ve never really felt more at home than I do here. With the underground. With you.” His voice stuttered on the last few words.

You felt your heart swell, and you pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Good, because I feel the same way…”

Gregor's arm tightened around you, and you felt him release another contented sigh against your hair. In this moment, everything felt exactly as it should be - no missions, no war, just the two of you finding solace in each other's arms. You held one another close, happy to be back in one another’s orbit.

"Darling..." Gregor's voice took on a somber tone as he tightened his arms around you. "I received new orders from Rex tonight." He paused as you tilted your head back to look at him, his expression serious. You felt your body tense, preparing for the worst. "And, well, it’s not just that," he continued, his lips curving into a frown.

“What is it?” your hand brushed his disheveled hair out of his eyes, your heart clenching at the thought of him being gone again so soon, without you. Rex had yet to clear you for your injury, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of being left behind on base again for another mission.

Gregor took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. "I know it's short notice, but... I told Rex you’d have no problem shipping out by midday tomorrow..." He gazed at you intently, his trademark mischievous smirk betraying his attempt at a somber expression. He was a terrible liar.

Your eyebrows shot up at the realization.

Now his face was in a full grin. "Mhm...you’re coming with." He quipped. “Though I’m sure Rex wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay behi—”

“No!” you trilled, propping yourself up onto your elbow. “I’m ready,” you insisted.

“You don’t even know what the mission is yet, love,” he chuckled, it was hard to resist mirroring your excitement.

“I don’t care,” you sighed. “I’ve been cooped up…it’s boring when everyone is gone,” you groaned.

“Don’t you mean it’s boring when I’m gone?” Gregor teased.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your smile. "Maybe," you admitted, snuggling back into him. "But don't let it go to your head." Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest as you soaked up the warmth of his presence, grateful to soon be back to doing what you do best.

Gregor laughed softly, his chest rumbling beneath your fingertips. "Have we met?," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. As you lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, a sleepy silence settled over you both. The anticipation of being briefed for tomorrow's mission hummed just beneath the surface, but for now, you were content to simply exist in this moment.

“You’re a terrible liar, by the way…” you said as you curled into him. He just chuckled softly as you let your eyes close, feeling the tendrils of sleep start to curl around you.

Soon, the familiar weight of Gregor's body and gentle rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a peaceful state. His fingers continued their soothing caress along your back, growing slower and more languid as sleep began to claim him too. The last thing you remembered before surrendering was the gentle press of Gregor's lips against your forehead and his whispered "Ner cyare..." You mumbled a sleepy response, already half-lost to dreams of tomorrow's adventures.

#captain gregor #captain gregor fan fiction #captain gregor x f!reader #captain gregor x fem!reader #captain gregor smut #captain gregor spice #tcw fan fiction #the clone wars fan fiction #star wars fan fiction #mae lou ron writes

72 notes · View notes

bugmomwrites · 10 months ago

Text

Weary

Dr Flug x Reader

Stealing my sister’s bf’s HBO password is the second best thing I’ve done this week. Whipping up a solid drabble in 30 minutes and refining it into a whole oneshot in the same night takes first place.

There’s like, one innuendo towards the end but everything else is straight up fluff. Story came to me after reading yet another shady thing a certain airline I won’t name did, but it sounds like “we ain’t going”. I am changing the names so I don’t end up dead in a van somewhere, but if you know you know ;)

—•• •—• ••—• •—•• ••— ——•

“…And then what happened?”, Flug yawns, looking up at you through his goggles. You smile gently, kissing the front of the bag where his forehead would be.

“Well, according to some sources…the former production and safety manager’s exact words were ‘if anything happens, I didn’t do it myself’,” you respond, reading the article off your phone. Using the same soft voice you use when you read picture books to a sleepy 505, except it was a news article turned Wikipedia rabbit hole.

You two had gone from listening to him explain the differences between a 767 and an Airvan, to him resting his bagged head in your lap as you click on various entries and articles, bouncing information back and forth. The person, a known whistleblower who had retired from the controversial airline a few years ago, had tried many a time to draw attention to the company’s shady practices. For him to die so suddenly, especially as more inside secrets came to light, was too fishy for the public to ignore.

“I’m no detective, but…”

“Assassination?”, you finished for him, raising a brow. The two of you exchanged knowing looks.

“Does the Dreamweaver have flexible wings?”, he grumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist to bury his head further into your tummy. It tickles, but you try not to laugh lest you disturb his rare peace. Moments like these didn’t happen often, and you knew if any of the others were to see you like this, Black Hat would tear you both a new one, and Demencia would never let you hear the end of it.

A few more minutes go by, occasionally filled in with fun facts about the company’s various other incidents that had made the news in the past. You click off of yet another one where a plane was literally falling apart mid-air, having to make an emergency landing in a massive blaze. That was enough internet for today, at this rate you’d never want to hop in a plane again. You carefully set your phone to the side after checking the time.

“If I were him, I wouldn’t have let them get me.”

“I know, Flug.”

“And I would have documented everything.”

“Mhm”, you rest a hand on his back, your own eyes growing heavy.

“I’d go down there and put them back together myself. I’d personally take all of their shitty scrap parts, and make a better airplane than any of those so called professionals,” he says disdainfully.

You smile as he heaves a long sigh, like the weight of the world rests upon his weary shoulders; which isn’t far from the truth, if the way Black Hat nags him and Demencia torments him on a regular basis is any indication. Not to mention raising a son/care bear/science experiment through it all. But even if it’s not quite the whole earth, at the very least it’s the whole company. Everybody ought to give him more credit, himself included.

“If anybody could do such a thing, I know it’d be you, Flug. You’ve always had a brilliant mind.” He hums softly at the praise, feeling quite chuffed to know that at least someone in the manor besides his own son appreciated him not just for all he does, but who he is.

It’s quiet again for a few moments as he drifts in and out of consciousness, your hand gently rubbing his back until he speaks up again a few minutes later.

“And I’ll make you my co-pilot.”

This takes you by surprise, the hand rubbing his back stopping briefly as you let the words settle over the two of you. Reading between the lines was something you found yourself doing almost as often as reading his expression through his paper bag, the man still not quite comfortable enough to outright say all the things he’d had bouncing around in his head to you just yet. Your hand resumes as you test the waters, stuck between delicate hope and fear of possibly scaring him off.

“I…don’t know how to fly a plane. Nor do I have a pilots license.”

“Me neither, but I’ll show you how to do it in the cockpit. I’ll make sure you have a smooth ride for your first time.”

A pregnant pause falls over the both of you, and your whole face heats up, mind processing his words only to take a nosedive into the gutter. You open your mouth to respond only to be met with quiet snores from below, Flug blissfully unaware of the effect of his words.

‘Looks like the week finally caught up to him’, you think. Odds are he might not remember something like that when he woke up, but you could tease him about it later on. For now, you stretch your arms over your head and attempt to make yourself as comfy as possible without disturbing him, sleep beginning to overtake you as well. You glance down once more to where he dozes peacefully for the first time in years, committing it to memory before joining him in slumber.

“Buenas noches, Flug.”

—•• •—• ••—• •—•• ••— ——•

#bug mom writes #dr flug x reader #dr flug #villainous #reader insert #villanos #Villianous x reader #505

263 notes · View notes

witchhaven · 4 months ago

Text

Heart

A doll showed up at my doorstep today, an event I don't believe has happened for some time, if it ever has happened. Heart, I believe its name is. It seemed compelled to approach me, climbing my steps gingerly, even wearily. I decided to allow it inside, letting it turn the knob of my front door, and pivot it inwards before wandering inside. I gently let my door close as I enjoy the cute, absentminded meandering of the lone doll.

I can tell that it didn't have a home before, but this is something I feel I exist to fix. Proceeding down the main hall, it reaches the kitchen, where a kettle rests on the stove, full of freshly brewed tea. Whenever Heart comes to the kitchen, I intend it to always have tea available, as is one of many of my gifts to it.

I watch Heart pour itself some tea, into a cup conveniently provided from the nearby counter, and feel a welling of happiness as it takes a quiet sip. It's not long before Heart has finished the cup, and proceeded to clean it in the sink. What a polite doll, it's even cleaning up after itself.

In a moment of mild lucidity, Heart peaks back out into the hall, calling out, "Hello, is anyone here?"

It's answered with silence, but I do my best to project my welcoming feelings onto it. I want Heart to feel at home here. Thankfully, my efforts seem to be rewarded with its demeanor relaxing as it proceeds further down the hall. All the while, its meandering becomes more and more familiar with my empty spaces laid out for it. I am no longer a simple house that Heart wandered into on a whim, but now a home in which it's welcome.

The hall opens up to a living area, a relaxing place with a coffee table, a hearth, and a number of comfortable pieces of furniture. These are of course, prepared to be welcoming for Heart. I find myself relaxing as it lounges on the sofa, facing the hearth, which is currently gently burning, and keeping the room warm.

We lose track of time as it sits there, relaxing in the living area. Neither of us know whether minutes have passed, hours, or even days. What's important now though, is that I keep Heart comfortable inside the walls so carefully laid out for it. It eventually does decide to stand up and continue exploring, though, and I allow my additional halls to open up for it.

Giving way to yet another door opening, Heart stumbles into its bedroom, with a soft mattress laid with clean sheets and fluffy blankets ready for it. The bed beckons for it to come and lay down, and to rest its wearied head. It thankfully complies with the welcoming embrace, slipping itself underneath the covers, and allowing itself to sleep away the night.

Heart has a dream tonight, one which depicts memories of its past, memories I cannot change, though I wish I could for it. I can, however, make the reliving of these memories easier. As it's paralyzed by the sight of its traumas, I wrap myself around it. A warm embrace is enough to allow the memories to fade from Heart's focus, becoming distant background noise, as it's allowed the peaceful sleep it so very much needs. I breathe a sigh of relief as I feel Heart finally begin to relax and rest.

The moonlight gently cascading though the pastel drapes of the bedroom slowly gives way to similarly gentle morning sunlight. It lazily finds its way to touching Heart's soft hair, and reaching its still closed eyelids, giving it a gentle wake-up call. I watch it slowly sit up from its bed with a yawn, and rub its eyes before opening them.

With a sense of familiarity, it walks out of its room, and proceeds towards my kitchen, once again greeted with fresh tea, and this time, a sandwich to go with it. Peanut butter and honey is a nice compliment to the tea, and Heart seems to enjoy both, as it gently consumes them, once again cleaning up after itself in the sink, and putting the dishes away orderly in the cupboards after drying.

"This one is puzzled..." Heart speaks up, "It feels compelled to speak to someone here, but there doesn't seem to even be anyone to speak to here..."

I am yet unable to reply to it, but I feel its curiosity of me taking hold.

It looks around, "This house has been here for a long time. While it's prepared in a welcoming way, almost as if this one was meant to stumble on it, it can't help but find it odd... there's so much clutter, so much dust. It's spotted with cobwebs, and no spiders to even be seen..." I suppose I haven't mentioned that yet... Heart is quite right. While I've tried my best to be there and be welcoming to it, I have been here for a long time, and with as long as I've been here, I suppose I've been allowed to fall into disrepair, with no one to take care of me. I feel my walls creak as if to respond directly to the doll.

Heart lays a hand on the wall nearest to it, "It sees... you, want it to help you with that, don't you?"

I allow my walls to creak again for confirmation.

"Then let it help you, kind home!" Its hand brushes away from the wall as it proceeds back down the hall, searching for another door, seemingly confident that it can find what it's looking for.

I allow Heart to land on another door, which gives way to a closet full of supplies for cleaning. It reaches for the bucket and mop before proceeding out of the closet for now. It begins by filling the bucket, and using the now wet mop to pick up the grime from my hardwood floors. I feel the coolness wash over me as the doll's meticulous efforts are rewarded eventually with smooth floors, which it can almost see its reflection in.

Before too long, the day has been almost entirely spent on cleaning my floors. As Heart proceeds to its room, its footsteps almost tickle with the extra precision of my sense of feeling now unmasked from the clutches of the thick layer of dust that's been applied to my floors by the immense amount of time spent with none to help me keep after myself. As Heart proceeds to bed, I find myself feeling happier, and relieved as I've found a friend to lean on. This is a relationship we'll both find ourselves better for...

#empty spaces #dollposting #dollblr #cw depersonalization #writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writeblr #not a person

81 notes · View notes

valleyof-goldenlilies · 1 year ago

Text

The Heartbreak of Christmas Eve - Modern! Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Your best friend shows up at your doorstep on Christmas Eve.

Pairing: Modern! Aegon Targaryen x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: profanity, angst, p in v, cockwarming

Word Count: 1.75k words

A/N: hoe hoe hoe! a very merry late Christmas and Happy New Year in advance from me to you :) ALL MY AEGON GIRLIES, THIS IS FOR YOU. he may be a train wreck, but we love him regardless. enjoy ;)

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

The sound of knocking at your front door was not one you’ve been expecting this evening. You had plans to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas on your own, since your family was travelling this holiday season. Who could it be?

Your questions were answered when you saw a dishevelled looking Aegon at the door, a sheepish expression on his weary face, a night bag in his hands. “I…I didn’t know where else to go…”

Looking at him from head to toe, taking in his pitiful state, you sighed, opening the door a bit wider to let your best friend in. “Come on in.”

You ventured to the kitchen to make Aegon a mug of tea after locking the door, just in case he was drunk again. Walking over to the couch where Aegon had made himself comfortable on, you handed him the mug. “Here.”

Aegon took it with a grateful, watery smile. “Thanks. You’re the best.” You tried not to let the words get to you. To him, it had always never meant nothing, a natural reflex in his charismatic nature, but to you, it always meant everything. It was a stupid thing, having a crush on your gorgeous, smoking hot best friend, who was the dictionary definition of the word ‘playboy’.

Just then, you heard a sniffle, and you realised with concern that his eyes were red. “Hey, everything okay?” You asked softly.

Aegon sniffled again, looking like a lost child as he hunched over his mug of tea. “Jenna broke up with me.”

Jenna had been Aegon’s latest in a series of girlfriends, and the longest lasting one at that. They had been dating for eight months now, and Aegon had really cared for her, much to your heartache. But you accepted it, as you always have, burying your feelings under the sand yet again.

“I’m really sorry, pal,” you moved into give Aegon a hug, which he melted into. Soon, you could hear sobs eliciting from his throat, as he lamented, “Why does everyone I love always end up leaving me? Am I that loathsome?”

No; you’re not, you wanted to tell him. You wanted him to know that for the longest time, you’ve loved him, much more than as a friend, and that you would never leave him, no matter what. But you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him, knowing that he would never feel the same. And even if he did, he could never give you the stable, long term relationship that you wanted.

So you only patted his back softly, and comforted him as best as you could. “You’re not loathsome, Aegon. You’re my best friend.” And I love you. “I would always be by your side, no matter what.”

“You really mean it?” Your heart broke at Aegon’s small voice, and you pulled him into a tighter embrace. “Of course. Best friends forever, remember?”

There was a silence, and you thought Aegon hadn’t heard you, but he only let out a noisy sniffle and said lowly, “Yeah…best friends forever.”

The two of you held each other for a while, hearing the snow fall outside your window as you comforted the love of your life over his heartbreak, while your heart was breaking on the inside.

Because your apartment was small, it only had one bedroom, so Aegon had to crash with you in your bed. It was your usual arrangement, but tonight, Aegon just couldn’t sleep.

Shifting uncomfortably on the left side of the bed, Aegon turned to face you, wanting to talk to you, to do anything, but you had your back turned to him. Unbeknownst to your best friend, you were fighting your own demons, trying to console yourself for being upset over this. It was his fifth girlfriend already, and you had had to comfort him over so many things ever since you were kids, so why did this bother you so much?

Because you’re hopelessly in love with him, that’s what.

You let out a quiet huff of frustration, but the sudden weight of a warm hand across your waist made you tense up. Aegon had always been feely in his sleep, but this was not helping any of your thoughts right now.

“Aegon…?” You asked in a quiet voice, careful not to wake him if he was asleep. But then, you felt a hardness press between your asscheeks, and you stiffened. He was most definitely not asleep.

“Aegon-“ “Shh,” Aegon’s low rumble that always made your knees weak sliced through the air. You could feel his breath on your neck, as he nestled his head on your shoulder. “I just need to feel…something. Please.”

You swallowed, feeling humiliation creep up your cheeks, staining it red. “Are you serious?” Your voice was not quite your own, scratchy and fragile. You were tearing up. “Aegon, for years, I’ve stood by, being your best friend, caring for you, wanting you, loving you, never wanting for anything more because I fucking loved you, but this is how you treat me? As some rebound fuck to get over your ex?” Your voice was laced with hurt venom. “I can’t believe you.”

Aegon felt every single muscle in his body freeze as your words registered in his mind. You loved him. For so many years now.

Tears were streaming down your face by now, and you wanted to push Aegon away, but you were just so tired. So upset. You flinched when he wrapped his arm around your waist tighter. “Hey,” he said softly into your ear, making goosebumps rise up on your flesh. “Look at me.”

When you refused to turn around, Aegon sighed. He deserved as much, he supposed. “Hey, listen,” Aegon began tentatively. “I know I’m probably the world’s biggest asshole right now, and I probably will earn your eternal enmity after this, but…I love you.”

Shocked, you turned your head back slightly to face him, breath hitching as you felt his hot breath on your bare skin. “…you’re joking.”

Aegon smiled sadly, shaking his head. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. I know I’m the biggest fucking idiot ever for this, but I always buried my feelings and kept it a secret, because…” he hesitated. “Because I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “If only I knew you had always felt this way, I would’ve said something. Why do I always ruin everything?”

A heavy silence enveloped the room, and Aegon felt his heart break as he heard you sniffle. You were crying because of him. Gods, he was just the biggest douche out there, wasn’t he?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, stroking your hair gently, not knowing what else to do to comfort you. “I’m so sorry, love.”

Finally, you turned around, your cheeks stained with tears that were visible even in the dark. Aegon swallowed, feeling awful. He had probably just ruined your Christmas and your year. “Y/N-“

He was cut off by the press of your lips on his. Your lips were warm against him, soft and inviting and tasting of gingerbread, and Aegon, despite his initial shock, found himself returning the kiss, letting out a few grunts as his hands found your waist again. The both of you continued making out for a while, while Aegon continued wiping the tears from your eyes. He wanted you so badly. Gods, he always wanted you.

His hands slowly wandered down to your breasts, groping them, squeezing them gently, all while he continued kissing you. You moaned into his mouth as he did, making the bulge in his pants grow undeniably harder. Your hand went down to stoke his cock over his sweatpants, and he hissed into your mouth, making you smile slightly against his lips.

Gradually, your pants fell off, and Aegon’s did too, and you gasped as you felt him stretching out your pussy. You had wanted this for so long, and now you were finally experiencing it. It was still quite unbelievable.

Aegon groaned as he bottomed out in you, his grip on your waist tightening. You made to move your hips, but Aegon stilled your movements, whispering huskily into your ear. “Let’s just stay like this. I want to wake up like this, with you around me.”

A small shiver went through you at those words, and you nodded mutely, letting out a soft yawn. Aegon chuckled, brushing your hair away from your forehead and kissing you on the lips. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Aegon. And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

Aegon General Taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @hc-geralt-23 @saay-karani @justrybca

let me know if you wish to be added to a general taglist for aegon related works or just my works in general in the comments below or through this form! :)

thank you for reading! if you liked it, likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! merry late xmas guys 😘

204 notes · View notes

muiitoloko · 7 months ago

Note

Hey:) i don't know if your laptop is working again but i wanted to make a request if it's okay. Can your write something about Karl Hoffmeister please? He has so much work to do and looks for a nanny to look at his son because he is working so much. His wife left and so he needs someone. That's when y/n is coming, she's the perfekt nanny and Karl and y/n are falling in love or something? Its just an idea so i'm not mad if you don't do it :)) Thank you

Title: The Nanny's Promise

Summary: Karl Hoffmeister, a weary industrialist, is struggling to find a suitable nanny for his young son, Otto, after his wife leaves them. Despite having little experience, a determined young woman named [Your Name] secures the position by promising to care for Otto with the same love and dedication she gave her siblings.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warning: none.

Author's Notes: Hey there! 😊 Unfortunately, my beloved and dear friend, my laptop, is currently resting in peace 😅 But I'm still writing on my cell phone—it's a bit more complicated, but totally worth it! Your idea about Karl Hoffmeister and the perfect nanny sounds fantastic, and I'll definitely see what I can do with it! Thanks for the suggestion! 😊

Also read on Ao3

Karl sighed as he sent in another possible nanny for his son, Otto. He had already gone through many interviews that day, wanting to ensure that his son would have the best possible care. The day had been long and disappointing; three interviews so far, and none of the candidates had impressed him. He told the next one to come in, not even looking up as he pointed for her to sit in front of him. He heard the candidate greet him softly as she took her seat.

Karl picked up her CV and began to read, noting with a frown that it was almost blank—no past experience, just basic education. She was young, which explained the lack of experience, but it did little to alleviate his concerns. He read her name out loud, “[Your Name],” and finally looked up. He paused, absorbing her simple yet striking beauty. She had the fresh, earnest look of a young working-class woman, her eyes bright with determination.

Karl mentally scolded himself. It did not matter if she was beautiful. What mattered was finding a competent nanny for his son, especially now that he was too busy with work and Charlotte had run away with her lover, leaving him and Otto behind.

"Miss [Your Last Name]," Karl began, his baritone voice steady, though a hint of weariness seeped through. "I see you have limited experience. Can you tell me why you think you are suited for this position despite that?"

You met his gaze, your own nerves evident but your resolve clear. "Mr. Hoffmeister, I understand that my CV does not reflect much in terms of professional experience. However, I have taken care of my younger siblings for many years. I have a natural inclination towards caregiving, and I am very quick to learn. I am hardworking and deeply committed to any task I take on."

Karl nodded slightly, noting the sincerity in your voice. "Taking care of siblings is quite different from being responsible for someone else's child. What makes you think you can handle the responsibilities of being a nanny for my son?"

You straightened in your chair, the intensity of your gaze reflecting your determination. "I believe that caregiving requires patience, empathy, and dedication, all qualities that I possess. I understand the importance of creating a safe and nurturing environment for a child. I may not have formal experience, but I am committed to learning and doing my best."

Karl considered your words, his eyes searching your face for any signs of insincerity. He found none. Instead, he saw a young woman who, despite her lack of experience, seemed genuinely eager to take on the challenge. He sighed inwardly. Otto needed someone reliable, and perhaps, someone with fresh enthusiasm could be beneficial.

"Very well," Karl said finally, his voice softening slightly. "Tell me, how would you handle a situation where Otto, who can be quite stubborn at times, refuses to follow instructions or throws a tantrum?"

You thought for a moment before replying. "I believe in a balanced approach. It is important to be firm but also to understand the child's perspective. If Otto were to throw a tantrum, I would remain calm and patient, trying to understand the root of his distress. I would use positive reinforcement to encourage good behavior and set clear, consistent boundaries."

Karl nodded, appreciating your thoughtful response. He leaned back in his chair, his hooked nose casting a shadow over his face as he regarded you. "And what about his education? Otto is quite bright for his age. How would you contribute to his intellectual development?"

Your eyes lit up at the question. "I love reading and learning, and I believe in fostering a child's curiosity. I would engage Otto with educational games, storytelling, and interactive activities that stimulate his mind. I would also work closely with you to ensure that his learning aligns with your expectations and values."

Karl felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, despite the lack of experience, you might just be the right fit. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "Miss [Your Last Name], I appreciate your candidness and enthusiasm. This position is crucial, and I need someone who can be both a caregiver and a positive influence in Otto's life. I am willing to give you a trial period. If you prove capable, the position will be yours permanently."

Your heart skipped a beat, relief and excitement flooding through you. "Thank you, Mr. Hoffmeister. I promise I will not disappoint you."

Karl gave a small, approving nod. "Very well. You may start tomorrow. Be here by eight in the morning. We will see how things go from there."

As you left the room, Karl allowed himself a small smile. Perhaps, amidst the disappointments of the day, he had finally found someone who could bring a bit of stability back into his and Otto's lives.

Over the course of the next two days, you settled into your new role, quickly winning over Otto with your kindness and patience. Karl watched from a distance, his initial skepticism slowly giving way to admiration. You handled Otto’s tantrums with a calm demeanor, diffusing his stubbornness with a combination of firmness and understanding. Your enthusiasm for learning and engaging Otto in educational activities impressed Karl, who found himself lingering longer in the evenings just to observe your interactions with his son.

Karl's workload remained heavy, but knowing Otto was in capable hands allowed him to focus more on his business. As days turned into weeks, and then months, the household began to settle into a new, comfortable rhythm. Karl began to notice the small things you did that went beyond your duties as a nanny: the way you instinctively tidied up around the house, the meals you prepared that Otto loved, and the genuine affection you showed his son.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day at work, Karl arrived home to find you and Otto in the garden. You were kneeling in the dirt, showing Otto how to plant flowers. Otto's face was alight with excitement, his laughter ringing through the air as he dug into the soil with his small hands.

Karl stood at the doorway, watching the scene unfold. You looked up and noticed him, giving him a warm smile. "Mr. Hoffmeister, you're home early," you said, standing up and brushing the dirt off your hands.

Karl nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I managed to finish my meetings earlier than expected," he replied, his baritone voice carrying a hint of exhaustion. He walked over to join you and Otto, his eyes softening as he watched his son.

"Daddy, look!" Otto exclaimed, holding up a small plant proudly. "We're planting flowers!"

Karl crouched down beside Otto, ruffling his son's hair affectionately. "That's wonderful, Otto. You’re doing a great job."

You stood back, watching the interaction with a sense of quiet satisfaction. Seeing Karl with Otto always brought a smile to your face; it was clear how much he loved his son, despite the demands of his work.

As the months passed, you continued to integrate yourself into the household seamlessly. Karl found himself looking forward to your daily interactions, appreciating your presence more and more. You brought a warmth and stability that had been missing since Charlotte left, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to you.

One evening, as you were cleaning up after dinner, Karl approached you in the kitchen. "Miss [Your Last Name]," he began, his tone uncharacteristically hesitant. "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for Otto and me. You've been an incredible help, and I don't know how we would have managed without you."

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his with genuine warmth. "Thank you, Mr. Hoffmeister. It's been a pleasure taking care of Otto. He’s a wonderful boy."

Karl took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "You’ve done more than just take care of him. You've brought life back into this house. For that, I am truly grateful."

Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his gaze. "I’m happy to be here, Mr. Hoffmeister. I care about Otto, and I care about this family."

Karl felt a surge of emotion, his usual composure slipping for a moment. "Please, call me Karl," he said softly, his voice filled with a sincerity that took you by surprise.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Alright, Karl."

From that evening on, the dynamic between you and Karl began to shift. There were more shared glances, more moments of unspoken understanding. Karl found himself lingering in the kitchen after Otto had gone to bed, simply enjoying your company. The conversations grew deeper, moving from discussions about Otto's day to more personal topics. He told you about his work, the pressures he faced as an industrialist, and even shared some memories of his own childhood.

You listened with rapt attention, offering your insights and encouragement. Your empathy and understanding made Karl feel heard and valued in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He began to realize that his feelings for you were growing, his admiration slowly turning into something deeper.

One particularly cold evening, as a winter storm raged outside, the two of you found yourselves alone in the living room. The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the room. Otto had gone to bed early, exhausted from a day of playing in the snow. You and Karl sat on the couch, sipping hot cocoa and talking quietly.

As you laughed at a story Karl shared about his early days in business, he looked at you, his heart swelling with affection. "You have a wonderful laugh," he said, his voice soft and sincere.

You blushed, looking down at your cocoa. "Thank you, Karl. You’re very kind."

He reached out, gently lifting your chin so you would meet his gaze. "No, it’s the truth. You've brought so much joy into our lives. I don’t know how to express how grateful I am."

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, your heart pounding in your chest. "I’m just doing what I can," you said softly. "Otto and you mean a lot to me."

Karl’s eyes held yours, a depth of emotion reflected in them. "And you mean a great deal to us," he whispered, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.

The moment was charged with unspoken feelings, the slow burn of months of growing affection coming to a head. Karl leaned in slightly, his eyes flickering to your lips before meeting your gaze again. You held your breath, your heart racing with anticipation.

But then, he hesitated, pulling back slightly. "I don’t want to rush you," he said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I want to make sure this is something you want as well."

You smiled, your hand reaching out to cover his. "Karl, I’ve felt the same way for a while now," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion. "I care about you, deeply."

Relief and joy flooded Karl’s features as he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a tender, heartfelt kiss. The world outside seemed to disappear as you melted into each other, the warmth of the fire matching the warmth in your hearts.

From that night on, the bond between you and Karl only grew stronger. You continued to care for Otto, and now, you cared for each other as well. It was a slow burn, but one that had been worth every moment, bringing love and happiness back into a household that had once felt so empty.

#muiitoloko #alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #karl hoffmeister x reader

58 notes · View notes

stars-and-inkpots · 1 year ago

Note

hey! could you write a little something based on our wizards fav line "if I don't get my beauty sleep soon, i might get just a tad malcontent" - tired cranky wizard ftw! 🤣

absolutely i can! (i hear this line a lot given my tendency to do absolutely everything i can before long resting even though i very much do not need to) thank you for this idea! hope you enjoy!

Beauty Sleep | Gale x Reader

You forget that not everyone is used to so much travelling in one day. Gale is more than eager to remind you that some people would very much enjoy some rest, and soon.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Cuddling, fluff

Word Count: 583

All things considered, Gale did try to keep his complaints to a minimum. He understood that things had to get done, and that you had to make the most of the day’s limited hours. It was, however, becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the exhaustion that was steadily consuming him.

“We should rest these weary bones of ours soon,” Gale says to you as you walk. The rest of the group has started to slow, but the sun is still high enough in the sky that it would be too early yet to retire for the night.

“Soon enough,” you answer. You can hear Gale’s disappointed huff, but he says nothing more. You continue on. The day has mostly been mapping out the forest, gathering supplies and clearing the path for tomorrow when you planned to move camp. It’s given you little trouble, only a few gnolls to be dealt with which was only a minor inconvenience at best.

“We should rest soon. It’s hard to save the world while you’re stifling yawns,” Gale speaks up again after another hour. This time, the group seems to share his opinion, though none of them voice this.

“We’ll return to camp soon. I want to explore just a little further; it will make the trip tomorrow easier.” You watch as Gale, clearly disappointed with this answer, sighs but continues to walk beside you. He trusts your judgement, and knows that you have the group's best interest at heart. “I promise we’ll return soon, my love,” you say quietly. The pet name eases the ire that grows with the pain in his knees.

The sun has well begun its journey towards the horizon by the time Gale speaks up again. His patience, as boundless as it is, is truly beginning to wane.

“If I don’t get my beauty sleep soon, I might just get a tad malcontent.” His tone is short and clipped, exhaustion leaving him increasingly irate.

You smile despite yourself; as bad as you feel for the clear discomfort of the wizard, his use of the phrase ‘beauty sleep,’ you must admit, is a little funny. “Yes, I’m sorry. I lost track of time.” You look back at the others. “That’s enough for today, let’s head back.” You turn back to Gale to add, much quieter, “I am sorry, truly. I forget that others aren’t used to travelling this much in a day. Could I make it up to you with a cuddle later? Unless you don’t wish me to interrupt your ‘beauty sleep,’ that is.” He knows you’re teasing him a little, but he’s inclined to let it slide when he notices the genuine care in your words.

“I suppose I could accept such an apology. My rest could wait just a little longer, perhaps.”

You’re relieved to see his smile return as you walk back to camp.

You keep your word. Once everyone has eaten and gone to their respective tents, you meet Gale in his.

Looking just as comfortable as he always does, Gale is waiting on his bedroll, already underneath the several blankets. When he sees you, he’s quick to pull them back to make room for you to fit yourself in beside him. You wrap your arms around him, and within minutes his breathing has evened out and you can hear the faint snores that let you know he’s found sleep. You press a quick kiss to the top of his head, then let yourself drift into unconsciousness as well.

#gale dekarios #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate x reader #x reader fic #bg3 #gale x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader

190 notes · View notes

st6rly · 1 year ago

Text

bury me deep (where my words won’t reach you)

synopsis: it should’ve been me; it is me (or in other words, sudden confessions) | wc — 1.9k

[ !! ] — masterlist.

characters: ayato & kazuha x gn! reader (separate)

categories: fluff, slight angst if you use a magnifying glass, a little suggestive in kazuha’s part, modern au, scenarios

warnings: my inability to write kissing scenes 👎👎 also it’s just past 2:30am so this is not proofread my bad so if there are any proper, warnings please let me know

notes: an old fic that i edited bc omg ?? my grammar was horrible :(( pls do not spam like my posts! reblogs are always welcome however.

for @kamiyatos bc ayato (hope you don’t mind the tag 😓)

AYATO.

“Ah, so this is where you ran off to.”

You sighed. Dim lights filtered through the doorway as Ayato looked at your position on the floor with a smile.

“Nice place you’ve got,” he chuckled, closing the door slightly behind him and taking a seat next to you.

A sweet silence passed between you; muffled music from the gym and the cheering voices of students echoed through the hallway. You turned to gaze at him, resting a hand on your knee with your head leaning against the wall. It’s funny when you think about how much your tired eyes contrasted with his relaxed posture.

“Why'd you come looking for me?”

Ayato opened an eye, looking at you from the corner of it with a twitch of his lips before he said, “It's my duty as a part of the student council that everyone is enjoying themselves at these types of events. Even if it’s just a little bit.”

A stifled laugh turned into a dry cough as you gave him a lazy smirk in return, amused by his words.

“Does that duty not stretch to you yourself? Weren’t you voted the king of the dance this year? It’s strange for you to not be interacting with your loving fans.”

“Who cares about them? They don’t know me.” He sighed and muttered under his breath, “Not like you do.”

“Even so, you’d usually go and talk about the benefits of the event with the rest of stuco,” you shrugged. “It’s your night, you should be having fun.” He turned to face you more, running a hand through his hair.

“Would you believe me if I said that this,” he waved a hand between the two of you, “was my idea of fun?”

“No, I would not believe that hiding in the janitor’s closet is your idea of ‘fun’.” You uncurled your legs from the way they were previously scrunched up. “Then again, you are weird so it wouldn’t surprise me if that were true.” It’s faint, almost lost to the noise from the gym, but you could hear how a chuckle bubbled out of his throat and made out the way his shoulders shook with the sound.

“Even if the person I were to be hiding with is my best friend?”

“Especially if that person is your best friend.”

You shifted in your spot, the formal wear you had on stiff and unwilling to let you sit comfortably.

“God, I hate wearing stuff like this,” you muttered, glaring at him when he laughed at your misfortune. “Shut up. Don’t act as if you’re any more comfortable than I am.”

“If it makes you feel better, aside from the whole uncomfortable part,” he said as he looked you up and down, eyes softened, “I think you look great.”

You chuckled weakly. With a sigh, you closed your eyes and rested your head on the wall of the cramped space again.

“I highly doubt I look as great as you’re saying right now.” You heard a faint scoff come from him.

“Nonsense. You look amazing as always.”

Ayato speaks of nonsense just as it builds up in his chest, There was a longing, a crave even, for him to clasp his hand overtop yours; he fiddled with the buttons on his coat instead.

“I see you every day yet I’ve never wanted to kiss you more than right now,” he blurted out with a hushed voice, startling even himself with what spilled from his lips. A moment’s pause passed as he took in what he just said, unaware of the heat that crawled up your neck. He casted a weary glance towards you.

“My apologies, Y/n. My outburst was uncalled for and I'm sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable.” He covered his face with one hand. “I understand if this changes things and I completely accept if you only see me as a friend or if you don’t want to be friends any-”

The ramble was snuffed out as he was suddenly met with your lips pressed against his. You pulled him by the collar, eyes closed as you hastily swept him into a brief kiss. Ayato sat there dazed as you moved away, eyes casted away from him.

He hesitated, movements slowed as he rested a hand on the back of your neck and rubbed small circles on your cheek with his thumb. He smiled, and dove back in; breath fanned across your skin as he devoured the dizzying feelings and melted into the contact. A small amount of satisfaction filled your chest when you parted again, smiling as a red hue decorated his face while his eyes looked at you so dearly.

“In all fairness,” You rubbed the back of your neck and muttered inaudible words before continuing, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time now, too.” You managed to whisper out, resting your forehead against his shoulder. A warmth covered your hands as you still gripped his collar with one, and raising your eyes you saw a kind smile sent your way.

“Kissing my childhood best friend in a janitor's closet, now that,” Ayato laughed, bold and bright, “that is more than enough fun.” Using the wall to brace himself, he gently raised you both off the ground.

“How would you like to go somewhere a little less cramped?”

“What are you, my prince charming?” You teased, hand held tightly in his and grinning bigger that the snort he let out,

“If anything, you’re the real saviour here. My ticket for leaving this event.” He bumped his shoulder against yours. “My precious knight in shining armour.” You lightly shoved him back.

“I love you,” you murmured, a dopey smile on your face. Ayato couldn’t tease you for it even if he wanted to because he probably looked the same, just as lovesick.

“I love you more.” It was softly said with such truth and sealed with a squeeze of his hand.

KAZUHA.

Soft chuckles could be heard through the library as the librarian sighed and sent a shush your way. Looking over his shoulder at the page, you couldn’t help but choke up on laughter as Kazuha recited the lines of poetry with a straight face. Tried too at least. Even as an admirer of poetry himself, romantic stanzas and free verses’ chalk full of metaphors about hearts fluttering like butterflies always sent chuckles the vibrated down his spine. Though he couldn’t deny how warm reading them out loud made him feel, imagining your wistful smile as he tells you his latest idea of love.

“That last poem reminds me of a book I've read before,” you mused, head tilted as you relaxed against the bookshelf. He sat down next to you with his lips curled into a grin.

“Oh really? What was it about?” You scratch the back of your neck, thinking for a moment.

“It was a classic teen romance novel. New kid in the school meets the main love interest, and the main love interest falls head over heels for the new kid.” You turned to face him. “The new kid plays hard to get but falls just as hard. Average love story.” You shrugged, a lopsided grin on your face. “Wasn’t my favourite read but definitely wasn’t the worst.”

“What's the title? I’d like to give it a try and see what all this fuss is about,” He asked, laughing at how you blinked blankly before shaking your head.

“I can't remember, sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve read it and besides, it really isn’t worth a whole reading session.” Kazuha cocked his head to the side, a curious glint in his eyes.

“And why not?”

“They kept dancing around each other a little too much for my liking. I mean, I love a good slow burn but damn.”

“I guess you aren’t the target audience then.”

You nodded your head and slumped against his shoulder, hair tickling the side of his neck.

“Definitely not,” you groaned. “Mainly because it reminds me of how lonely I am and how I won’t live out a romance like that.”

“What makes you say that?” Kazuha watched as your expression turned sour, lips pursed and brow furrowing slightly. His fingers twitched, wanting to cup your face and smother away that look to see you laugh and smile again.

“Romance in the middle of school seems…” you trailed off, an exasperated laugh breaking your sentence, “it looks hard. I don’t know how people do it. There’s already so much to do and a relationship on top of that.” You shook your head. “Full respect to students who can keep a healthy relationship going.”

He hummed to himself, taking in your words.

“That makes sense,” he mumbled and tried not to look so troubled by it. He sat up and you looked at him worriedly.

“Did I say something wrong? your tone is off,” you pointed out.

“No! I mean, no. Everything is fine. Don’t worry about it.” A bout of nervousness rushed through him as he coughed and smiled. He could tell you didn’t buy it; the sceptical look on your face said it all before you lunged at him, rolling you both onto the floor with you on top of him.

“Hey-” before he could even ask, he broke out in laughter as you began to dig fingers just below his ribs.

“W-wait!” He struggled to regain his bearings when you stopped, face flushed as he stared up at you. “What… what was that for?”

“I don't want to force you to tell me anything, but frowning doesn’t suit you.” you chuckled. Kazuha could help the small pout on his lips as he sat up onto his arms, slightly distracted with the way the light from the window hit your eyes.

“I love you so much,” he mumbled, shoulders shaking in both laughter and slight heartbreak, knowing that what you said earlier was right. “God, I wish I could kiss you.”

He stilled as your smile grew bigger; he hadn’t noticed the way your laughing had seized earlier or the hitch of your breath when he said those words.

“Say that again.” he gulped at the serious look on your face despite the grin you wore, heat creeping up his neck and ears turning pick as you moved closer.

“I wish I could kiss yo-”

His eyes widened as you connected your lips with his, a hand on his chin and noses nearly touching, before sinking into the feeling. It stirred up butterflies that darted around his chest, heart rapidly beating as you both pulled away. Kazuha raised a hand and hovered it over his mouth, as a new smile bloomed on his face. You found yourself joining in on his giggles again.

“What happened to not liking school romances?” He joked through the chuckles. His breath caught in his throat as you clutched his tie in your hand with a smirk.

“I think it’s going quite well right now but,” you leaned in closer, eyes trailing over his face, “I'll need to check again to make sure that’s not a fluke.”

He flushed under your stare.

“You remind me of a character from the book I was talking about earlier.”

“Oh? Which one?” He whispered. Your grin was dangerous.

“Definitely the new kid from that story.” You tugged him to look up. “Because i’ve been wanting this ever since we first started hanging out.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #astronetwrk #ayato x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin fluff #ayato fluff #kazuha fluff #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin scenarios #kazuha x gender neutral reader #kazuha x you #ayato x you #! notepad.txt

218 notes · View notes

captainderyn · 4 months ago

Text

[Fictober24] Day 1: "That was good work."

Prompt: "That was a good work."

Fandom: LOTRO

Pairings: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Eldarion has been training with Wulfwryn in the art of the sword since he was a boy, yet he still cannot best her in combat. Frustrated with this, it takes Wulfwryn sharing some of her own wisdom to reflect that perhaps not seeing combat is a blessing and not a failing.

Read on AO3

---

Watching her mother spar was something Faewryn would never tire of. The elegance of her blows and parries were like the most intricate steps of a festival dance and the way she wielded her sword and shield was just as natural as the way her father held his lute.

Faewryn, however much she adored watching her mother spar, never wanted to partake. Aside from wielding a sword—or dagger, bow, glave, or any other weapon—feeling so unnatural to her despite any number of practice hours that she was more apt to cut off her own hand than cut an opponent, she had no desire to lose time after time.

This particular time, after many times before, finally frustrated Eldarion to his limit, and he drove the tip of his sword into the soft dirt of the sparring arena and leaned against it. Despite the cool autumn air, his face was flushed with exertion and sweat pooled on his brow, sticking his mused hair to his forehead. He shook his head like a wet dog before scrubbing his hand through the damp strands.

“That was good work, Eldarion.” Wulfwryn praised, leaning her sword and shield against the weapons rack. She ran her sleeve over her forehead, her own face red with exertion. They’d been going through session after session back to back with no end in sight.

Faewryn rested her forearms on the half wall, pressing onto her tiptoes and rocking back down as she called, “You nearly had her that time!”

The glare leveled at her made her dissolve into giggles that she stifled with her hands. She knew the look her mother was giving her without looking—she wasn’t meant to heckle or tease any of her trainees, no matter if that trainee was her dearest and longest friend.

Eldarion huffed, the most petulant he would let himself get. “I’ve been training with you for years, yet I’m still getting my ass kicked like a tot with his first wooden sword.”

Wulfwryn leveled a look at him with raised brows.

“Hardly a tot.” Wulfwryn admonished. “You know I go especially hard on you, as your father instructed me to.”

Faewryn pressed her tongue to her cheek, already rehearsing in her head how the next part of the conversation would go. It was the same every time, with the same answers again and again.

“That’s exactly it! If I cannot hold my own here, how am I meant to ride with you on missions? I am nearly in my twenty-third year yet I have not ridden out once with our guards. You have soldiers younger than that!”

If her mother’s sigh was an indicator, she also knew how this song and dance played out. Faewryn mouthed along as the two went back and forth, every word near correct.

“You shouldn’t be so eager to go chasing down rogue orc bands. They’re a brutish bunch, and the ones that still persist after all these years after particularly sturdy.”

Eldarion was quick to counter, as he always was, “It looks shameful to have the son of the king fresh as a welp in actual battle.”

“Have you perhaps considered that we who fought in the war don’t wish the same for our children? That we’d prefer to keep sparring exercises as learning and not life or death?” This was always the line that shut Eldarion up before, and it worked no different this time. He snapped his mouth closed and Wulfwryn nodded as if content this would be the conclusion.

She hefted up her shield again, gesturing for Eldarion to pick up his sword once again. He did with a weary breath.

“I know you’re eager to put this to use, I know you wish to prove yourself, but truly how long do you think I’ve been studying the sword?” Wulfwryn asked.

Both Eldarion and Faewryn hesitated, weighing the odds wrongly answering such a question.

“…years?” Eldarion finally answered in a hesitant, small voice.

Wulfwryn tipped her head back with a full-bellied laugh. “A great many years! I’ll leave specifics to your imagination. Now, think: you’re trying to cram a lifetime of training and true battle experience into a handful of years. You’ll get there, I promise, hopefully with far less pain and trial than I.”

She gestured to his sword, still in a resting position. “Now, again.”

#fictober24 #lotro #lotro fanfic #oc: Wulfwryn #oc: Faewryn #fic: The Road Goes Ever On #:3 welcome back to my yearly month of Raenor and Wulfwryn and family #everything will be posted in the one AO3 fic. I know they say to split them up but I can't handle having 31 ficlets running around my ao3 x #starting off strong by facing my fear of posting a real character interacting with my ocs lol #despite doing it time and time again

13 notes · View notes

bloody-bee-tea · 10 months ago

Text

IntiMarch 2024 Day 18 - Drop it

The prompt for this was "Why don't you come here for a second?"

Satoru lets out a weary sigh when he steps into Suguru’s room. He’s been out on a mission all day—without Suguru because they are being split up more often recently—and he’s so ready for today to be over.

The mission wasn’t particularly hard, but the curse was a slippery one and Yaga had made it clear that Satoru wasn’t just allowed to level the entire area to get this done more quickly.

And like the good student Satoru is he had listened but that only allowed the curse to evade him again and again. It took Satoru the better part of the day to finally exorcise that stupid curse and now he’s about ready to crash.

“Welcome back,” Suguru greets him, a warm smile on his face and Satoru goes hot all over when he realises that Suguru expected him already.

Shoko would say something about how they are unnecessary close—you could be conjoined twins, were her exact words—but it’s just like Satoru likes it.

“I’m back,” he says, even though it’s not necessary and with a shake of his shoulders he finally drops Infinity.

He could have done that when he entered the school grounds, but in all honesty, it only ever feels safe to do with Suguru.

Satoru is still watching Suguru, so he sees how his warm and welcoming smile falters for the briefest of moments, before he fixes it back into place. Normally, Satoru wouldn’t even notice something like that but he notices everything that has to do with Suguru, so it doesn’t escape his notice.

“You okay?” he asks, because how else is he going to get an answer but Suguru only continues to smile at him.

It doesn’t even seem forced.

“Of course I am. Do you need to take a shower or are you ready to crash?”

“I’m ready to do whatever you want,” Satoru gives back because he doesn’t care as long as it’s with Suguru.

“I was about to watch a movie.”

“Great, I’m game,” Satoru decides, even though he should probably get some food first, but Suguru is right there on the couch and it’s so much more tempting to simply plop down next to him and then burrow into his side.

“Did everything go okay?” Suguru asks, slinging his arm around Satoru and pulling him tightly towards himself.

“Of course it did, who do you think you’re talking to?” Satoru huffs out and then his eyes fall on a bowl of food on the table. “Is that for me?”

“Take an educated guess,” Suguru teases him and leans forward to get the bowl, dropping it in Satoru’s waiting hands. “I already ate.”

“You’re the best,” Satoru breathes out and he means it, because this is not store-bought food, but something Suguru must have prepared himself.

“And don’t you forget it,” Suguru gives back and pats Satoru’s head before he clicks play on the remote and they fall silent.

It’s the perfect ending to a draining day and yet Satoru can’t shake the minute wobbling of Suguru’s smile.

~*~*~

It keeps happening. It’s never for long enough that Satoru can reasonably bring it up, but whenever he meets Suguru and drops Infinity, Suguru’s smile falters.

And there’s only one person he can talk to about it.

“Shoko!” he whines out as he steps foot into her office.

“Please don’t,” she gives back without even looking at him. “Can’t you pester Geto?”

“I’m here because I can’t,” Satoru laments and drapes himself over her desk. “Because he hates me.”

“Oh, now this changes things,” Shoko immediately says and gives him her full attention. “This promises to be fun. Go on.”

“You’re being mean.”

“And you’re not telling me what insane things you are thinking. Geto, hating you? I’d rather believe that Yaga is secretly a human-turned curse than that, so you better explain yourself otherwise I can’t laugh at you."

“I don’t want to believe it either,” Satoru grumbles, “but he does hate me. Or, well, he hates it when I touch him.”

“We are talking about Geto Suguru, yes?” Shoko asks to clarify. “The guy who tolerates you hanging off him at all possible times, the guy who once complaint that you hadn’t touched him for two days when you were gone on a mission. That guy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why would you think that?”

“Because,” Satoru whines out. “He always—I always drop Infinity when I spend time with him and every time I do that, his smile falters. He greets me with the warmest smile ever and then I drop my technique and it just—it’s hard to explain,” he whispers and thinks for a moment. “Suguru always seems disappointed when I drop Infinity.”

It hurts to admit it, but maybe Shoko can help. Satoru is not quite brave enough to bring it up with Suguru himself, because what if he tells him outright that he hates being touched by him, but it’s getting to a point where Satoru doesn’t even want to go to Suguru anymore, if only so he doesn’t have to see his disappointment.

And that hurts, too.

“That—seems wrong,” Shoko lowly says and frowns at him. “He seems disappointed?”

“Yes, Shoko, disappointed. As if he doesn’t want me to drop Infinity but he’s too polite to bring it up with me.”

“Is he though?” Shoko asks. “Too polite to bring things up with you? He always tells you nothing but the truth and he’s not even kind about it. You really think he’d just take being touched by you—or anyone really—if he doesn’t want to be?”

“I—” Satoru starts but he doesn’t know how to finish that.

It’s true, after all. Suguru is not shy to give his honest opinion or thoughts and he told Satoru more than once that he’s insane, or stupid, or downright wrong and he never once hesitated to do that. So if he really doesn’t want to be touched by Satoru, then he should have no problem telling him that.

“So why doesn’t he say something?”

“Maybe because you’re wrong?”

“But what else could it be?”

“Do I look like Geto to you? Or like a mind-reader?” Shoko wants to know. “Go ask him yourself if it bothers you so much.”

Satoru sticks his tongue out at her, because even though she’s right, it’s really not what Satoru wants to hear.

He specifically came here so he wouldn’t have to talk to Suguru about this.

“You’re a real help, thank you,” he sarcastically says and Shoko gives him her biggest faked grin.

“Always happy to help,” he sweetly gives back and it sounds so wrong that it actually makes a shudder run down Satoru’s back.

“Wonderful,” he mutters as he walks away from her office and he decides to rip the band-aid off immediately.

He’ll go to Suguru’s, get him to admit that he actually hates being touched by Satoru—and that he hates him as well—and then he can wallow in peace and he doesn’t have to wonder about this ever again.

It sounds like a good plan, he tries to lie to himself and swiftly makes his way over to Suguru’s room.

Suguru is on the bed, reading a book but he instantly looks over when Satoru steps into his room and when a smile flits over his face, Satoru’s heart beats faster.

Fuck, he’s going to miss this.

“Listen—” Satoru starts but he doesn’t get very far, because Suguru sits up, his book forgotten and a look of worry on his face.

“Are you okay? Is everything okay?” he demands to know and he seems ready to throw hands with whoever Satoru will name as the culprit for something he doesn’t even understand.

“Huh?” he very intelligently asks and Suguru gets up.

“Are you hurt? Did something get to you?” he asks and he walks up to Satoru, holding his hands out as if he wants to check Satoru over personally, but he stops before he makes contact and pulls his hands back.

“Are you mad at me?” he then asks, his voice suddenly small and he sounds almost hurt.

“Why would I be?” Satoru is too confused to even manage one coherent thought because he didn’t expect this to go like this at all.

He just wanted to know what Suguru has against being touched by him and now Suguru thinks something is wrong with Satoru? Satoru really doesn’t understand how they got here.

“You still have Infinity on,” Suguru mutters, his hands still tightly clasped behind his back and Satoru fights the urge to drop Infinity immediately.

He can’t. Not if Suguru doesn’t like it, though his reaction right now is confusing Satoru even more.

“But—don’t you hate it when I drop it?” he asks and the confusion must be audible in his voice because Suguru blinks at him before he goes red in the face.

“Ah, fuck, you noticed,” he whispers, more to himself than to Satoru and still, Satoru’s heart drops straight to the floor.

So Suguru does hate him, then.

Wonderful.

“I did. I—that’s all I wanted to know, actually, so,” he points over his shoulder at the door, hoping that he doesn’t sound as hurt as he feels. “I’ll be going then.”

“Wait,” Suguru says, his hand shooting out as if he wants to stop Satoru, though of course he can’t make contact, not with Infinity still on.

“Don’t, that’s not—I don’t hate you,” he says, because of course he looked right through Satoru. “Let me explain.”

He takes his hand back before he walks over to the bed, sitting down, propped up against the headboard before he pats the space next to him.

“Why don’t you come here for a second?” he asks Satoru, who still stands in the middle of the room, unsure if he’s even still welcome here.

“So you can tell me you hate me better?”

“So I can explain,” Suguru patiently corrects him and Satoru takes a step towards the bed.

He does want an explanation. He does not want to sit besides Suguru with Infinity separating them.

“Infinity on or off?” he forces himself to ask and the hurt feeling in his chest smooths over the tiniest bit when Suguru smiles softly at him.

“Off, of course,” he replies as if it’s the most normal thing to say and yet Satoru still hesitates a moment before he drops Infinity.

“Thank you,” Suguru whispers and pats the bed again. “Now come here.”

Satoru does as he’s told, carefully settling next to Suguru and prepared to still keep a bit of distance between them, but Suguru doesn’t even give him a chance, because as soon as he is in reach, Suguru pulls him close, tucks him right into his side and rests his temple against the crown of Satoru’s head.

Satoru’s heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of his chest, and Suguru’s proximity is only half of the reason. Mostly, Satoru is just confused.

“I don’t understand,” he admits and Suguru chuckles slightly.

“Yeah, I bet,” he teases and before Satoru can go off at him for being deliberately mean, he sighs. “That’s my fault. I apologise.”

“Okay,” Satoru accepts and he’s already trying to convince himself to be content with that, to just accept that Suguru might want to be touched by him still, with no further explanation for his strange behaviour when Suguru goes on.

“You’re always beautiful,” Suguru starts with and Satoru jolts at his words. “But when you have your technique activated your eyes glow almost eerily but it just makes you incredibly stunning.” He takes a deep breath while Satoru feels as if he’s stopped breathing all together. “I’m just disappointed when you come here and drop Infinity because then I don’t get to see that. And don’t get me wrong; I love the fact that you feel safe enough around me to drop Infinity, that you allow yourself to be touched by me. That’s not even a question. It’s—confusing, I know.”

It’s not more confusing than what Satoru came up with as an explanation over the last few days, so he lets out a relieved breath.

“You’re such an idiot,” Satoru tells him and moves away from Suguru so he can look him in the face.

Suguru’s hand slides down Satoru’s arm, coming to a stop at his elbow and that’s not good enough, that’s not at all good enough, Satoru decides, and simply takes Suguru’s hand in his, threading their fingers together, all without taking his eyes off Suguru.

And then he activates Infinity.

Suguru jerks in surprise, moves as if he’s expecting his hand to be repelled but when nothing happens, confusion settles over his face.

“What is going on?” he breathes out, reaching up with his other hand to cup Satoru’s cheek in it.

“I can decide who gets through,” Satoru says and then winces. “Actually, I can’t. It’s just—you don’t register for it, not anymore. I don’t know when it happened, but Infinity will never keep you from touching me.”

“So I could have both,” Suguru whispers in awe.

“You can have both,” Satoru agrees with a nod and slightly turns his head so he can press a kiss to Suguru’s palm. “Good?”

“You’re amazing,” Suguru says with a huge smile and now it’s Satoru’s turn to go red in the face.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, which only makes Suguru laugh before he leans in and nuzzles the side of Satoru’s face.

“Now turn it off again,” he whispers and with a shudder, Satoru does as he’s being told.

“Why? I thought you liked seeing my eyes like that,” he gives back, almost petulantly and Suguru nods.

“I do. I like the fact that you don’t feel the need to have it on at all when you’re with me even more. I want you to be able to rest.”

“I do. I can heal myself, so it’s taken care of.”

“I don’t want you to have to heal yourself when you’re with me. I want you to be able to fully rest, to completely let go and not worry about a thing.”

“You just said you like my stunning eyes,” Satoru whines out and a shiver runs down his back when Suguru laughs, low and deep.

“I also said you’re always beautiful,” he corrects and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Fine. No technique when I’m with you.”

“Maybe don’t drop it immediately when you come in. Maybe wait until the first kiss to do it.”

“The first, huh? How many are you getting in this scenario?” Satoru wants to know but he’s dying to kiss Suguru right now and then keep doing it until they both fall asleep.

“As many as you want to give me,” Suguru replies and finally moves away so that Satoru has enough space to start with it right now.

And he’s definitely not going to stop any time soon.

#bt writes #satosugu #jjk #geto suguru #gojo satoru #misunderstandings #pining #getting together #fluff #hurt/comfort

31 notes · View notes