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byersbootyshorts · 1 year

Note

hi! can you please write a fic about clingy bf spencer reid? i would love it! thank you!!

Just a Phone Call Away (S.R.)

Spencer's knee injury means he's stuck at Quantico while the rest of the team go off to hunt an unsub. And he does not cope well with being away from you for long.

Word Count: 1,986

Warnings: clingy!s5!Spencer, gn!reader, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, gun shot

this was such a good request omg

“Reid, I’m sorry but you’re staying here,” Hotch ordered. Spencer’s face contorted into an annoyed expression.

“Hotch, come on. I’m fine,” he argued. “The doctor said if my knee didn’t hurt I could still fly.”

“I don’t care what your doctor said,” Hotch said sternly. “You are not getting on our jet with your knee in a brace. You’ll stay here and help Garcia. That’s an order.”

Spencer slumped in his chair, defeated.

“Spencer, I’ll be fine,” you urged him. You were about to get on the jet and leave Spencer in Virginia. Since the two of you had started dating you’d never been apart for long. Being on the same team made that possible. But now that Spencer was being forced to stay behind while you left to hunt an unsub, he realised just how much he dreaded being away from you.

“Yeah, but what if you get hurt?” he asked.

“We’ve been in the field together more times than I can count. Why the sudden concern for my safety?” you replied.

“Because I won’t be there this time. If you get hurt there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Spence, I’m not a child. I can handle myself,” you smiled and pulled him into your embrace.

“I’ll miss you,” Spencer mumbled into your shoulder.

“You’re so soppy,” you teased him. “But I’ll miss you too. And remember, I’ll just be a phone call away.”

Spencer watched miserably as the jet took off and flew you far away from him. He didn’t realise how much of a co-dependent person he was until he met you. The thought of you potentially being in a life threatening situation while he sat uselessly with his knee in a brace made him feel physically sick.

The wheels of the jet had barely left the runway when your phone chimed. You picked it up and chuckled when you saw the message.

I love you. Please be safe. ❤️

You quickly typed a reply.

Only if you promise to rest your knee. I love you too <3

Emily noticed you smiling down at your phone and asked, “Is that Spencer?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “We’ve only been apart for 30 minutes and he’s already worried about me.”

“He’s clingy, huh?” Emily said.

“Incredibly.”

The flight wasn’t long and soon you, JJ and Rossi were settled in a cramped conference room in the local police department. As usual, Hotch had called Garcia on the plane to give the briefing. This time Spencer sat beside her on the small laptop screen. Hotch had told you all what to do when you landed and instructed Spencer to work on victimology back at Quantico.

When you saw his name pop up on your phone you assumed he’d found some connections between the victims. You put your phone on speaker so your teammates could hear before answering.

“Hey, you got something?”

There was a pause before Spencer spoke.

“Uh, no, not yet. I was just calling to make sure you landed safely.”

“It was a very smooth landing, Reid. No complaints,” Rossi said and JJ laughed. Your face blushed red and you grabbed your phone to turn it off speaker.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I was on speaker,” Spencer’s voice crackled over the line.

“It’s ok. It’s just me now,” you said, walking out of the conference room. “Did you really just call to see if I got here ok.”

“Of course I did,” Spencer said as if it was obvious. “What if the jet crashed? I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Spencer was one of the most rational people you knew. But when it came to you he was so illogical it was laughable.

“Well, Spence, I’m fine,” you told him. “Listen, I have to go. Call me if you find anything.”

Spencer said goodbye and you hung up.

Hotch had sent you and Rossi to interview one of the victims families later that day. You were in the middle of listening to the mother of the victim talk about her son when your phone started ringing. When you saw that it was Spencer you excused yourself and stepped out into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, not wanting to miss much of the interview.

“Hey, can you talk?” Spencer asked plainly.

“Uh, not really,” you said confused. He knew you were working. Why would he think you could talk? “Why? Do you need something?”

“No, I just wanted to hear your voice,” he said softly. “But it’s ok if you’re doing something.”

“Sorry, Spence, we’re interviewing a victim’s family,” you apologised. “But I’ll call you later. I promise.”

“Ok, I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye,” you said before hanging up and going back to the interview.

You got to the hotel the team were staying at pretty late that night. You had just showered and were about to call Spencer as you promised when your phone rang. Of course it was Spencer.

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” you said when you answered.

“Oh, good, you’re ok. It was getting late and I was starting to get worried,” Spencer quickly rambled.

“Oh my God, please stop worrying about me,” you said a little sharply. “I just lost track of time at the police department. You don’t have to call me every two seconds.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said with a small voice. “I can’t help it.”

You sighed to calm yourself down. It was cute that he cared so much about you. But the constant calls were starting to wear you down a little.

“I know. And I’m sorry too. I should be more appreciative that you worry about me.”

You were both silent for a moment. You regretted snapping at Spencer. You knew how clingy he was after all. A few seconds passed before Spencer broke the silence.

“Can we switch to facetime?” he asked. You raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, but why?”

“I want to see you,” he explained.

You hastily switched the call to facetime and his face appeared on your screen. It was dark aside from the dim glow of the lamp beside his bed. His hair was pulled back and still slightly damp.

“You happy now?” you said, smiling at him.

“Very,” he replied.

Your mouth opened into a wide yawn and Spencer’s face dropped.

“You’re tired,” he observed. “Do you want me to go?”

“No, it’s ok. It’s just been a long day,” you replied. But as you spoke you yawned again. “Ok, maybe I am tired,” you admitted.

“Can we stay on facetime when we fall asleep?” Spencer asked shyly. You let out a short giggle at his suggestion.

“You really can’t live without me, can you?” you asked with a smirk.

“Nope,” Spencer said. “And I’m not ashamed of it.”

You set your phone on the pillow beside you and drifted off to sleep. Spencer stared at you long after you’d lost consciousness, just listening to your breathing and imagining you were really there beside him.

The next day Spencer didn’t stop incessantly calling you. He called you in the morning. He called you when you were delivering the profile. He called you when you were driving to a suspect’s house. You tried your best to see the good in it but if he unnecessarily called you one more time you were afraid you were going to lose it.

You and Emily had just arrived at a suspect’s house. This man had been spotted near two of the crime scenes just minutes before the murders. You were betting he was your unsub. You knocked on his door but no one answered. That’s when Emily noticed a shed around the back of the house. You followed her towards it but stopped abruptly when your phone started vibrating in your pocket. You swore under your breath when you saw Spencer’s name on the screen. You told Emily you’d only be a minute and answered your phone.

“Spencer, I love you but please for the love of God do not call me for the next few hours,” you snapped.

“Actually, I was calling to tell you you’re definitely at the unsub’s house. His prints match the ones found at the crime scene,” Spencer said bluntly. You could hear the offence in his voice.

“Oh,” you said, cursing yourself for letting your anger get the better of you. “Well, thanks. Sor-,”

You were interrupted by a gun shot that made you jump out of your skin. You quickly blurted out, “Spence, I have to go,” before hanging up.

It turned out the gun shot came from Emily’s gun. The unsub had snuck up on you while you were on the phone and was about to shoot you before Emily pulled her gun on him. Now, you were on your way back home. The case was closed. You’d tried calling Spencer multiple times before getting on the plane but he wasn’t picking up. You figured he was angry at you for losing your temper.

When you finally touched down at Quantico the first thing you did was go looking for Spencer. You didn’t find him at his desk so you headed towards Garcia’s office.

“Hey, have you seen Spencer?” you asked when you entered. “I’ve been calling him but he hasn’t been picking up.”

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” she said, surprised.

“Hear, what?”

“Well, when Spencer heard that gun shot over the phone he didn’t know if you were ok,” Garcia began. “He started panicking and the idiot got up without his crutches and fell over.”

Your jaw dropped. “Is he ok?” you questioned.

“I took him to the hospital and the doctor said he should be on bed rest for the next few weeks, but he’s fine,” Garcia explained. “He probably hasn’t called you because he’s sleeping.”

“Ok, thanks Penelope,” you said, relieved to know Spencer was ok.

You got to Spencer’s apartment as fast as you could and used the key he gave you to let yourself in. You headed straight towards his bedroom and opened the door just a crack. When you peeked inside you saw Spencer lying sprawled out on top of the covers, his knee covered in a new bandage and brace. The steady rise and fall of his chest told you that he was in fact sleeping as Garcia had said.

You quietly made your way to the bed and sat down beside him. Leaning down, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and whispered his name.

He sniffed and stirred from his slumber. When he registered who was sitting next to him his eyes immediately lit up.

“You’re back,” he croaked, sleep still evident in his voice. “Are you ok? I heard a gun shot.”

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Never better.”

Spencer grabbed your hand so tightly he cut off your blood flow.

“I was right when I said you can’t live without me,” you laughed.

“Being away from you almost killed me,” he replied.

“Well, you got that right. You got put on bed rest.”

Spencer suddenly buried his head in your chest. “I missed you so much,” he murmured into your shirt.

“I missed you too, baby,” you said, kissing his forehead once more.

Spencer’s arms wrapped so tightly around you, you could barely move. He practically glued himself to you. You had planned on taking a shower and changing out of your work clothes but he had you in such a chokehold that all you could do was lie down beside him as he wrapped himself around you even more. He breathed in your scent and immediately started to melt into you, as though all the tension in his body vanished in your presence.

“Please, don’t ever leave me again,” he said.

“I won’t. I promise,” you whispered, stroking his hair as he fell asleep, happy to be in your arms again.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #clingy!spencer reid #gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid gifs #criminal minds #fluff #fluff oneshot #fluff fic

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whumpsoda · 3 months

Note

What would happen if the Sleepy Thrall got sick and needed medical attention?

-- @oliversrarebooks

WOHEO Masterlist So here’s like. My fifth? writing post of the past week… I’m just on the writing grind :3

cw: sickfic, pet whump, multiple whumpers & whumpees, vampire whumpers, captivity hypnotised/brainwashed whumpees

———————————————————————

“Mal…ak?”

Nevan delicately poked his head inside the dimly lit room, the tall, wooden door creaking along.

His vision took a moment to settle into the darkness as he looked toward the thrall’s shared mattress placed beside the vampire’s luxurious bed, fully expecting Malak to be seated atop it.

Strangely, he was not.

“Malak?” Nevan called again softly, turning around the room until his gaze landed on the corner farthest from said mattress.

Huddled up to the wall, curled into a tight ball of his large frame Malak sniveled, nose dribbling with snot and eyes rung sickly red. He rubbed his face with his palms, shielding his vision from bright light sneaking in from the open door. “Oh.”

Nevan carefully stepped inside, shutting the door slowly behind him until it clicked. Arms outstretched in front of him he knelt before the ill thrall. “Malak..? Are you… alright?” He questioned, voice low and gravely, trying purposely to not make enough noise that may elicit or increase a headache.

“Um…” Malak started, peeking the tiniest bit out from his legs. His eyes were wide and shaky, body trembling. “Head… feels weeeird… don’t like.” He mumbled quietly, brows furrowing in muddled confusion. “‘M sorry…”

Nevan placed a hand to his knee, rubbing lightly over his skin with a soft thumb. “It’s fine. Yes… you… you should get back in bed…” he urged, guiding Malak's gaze to the tussled mattress he had wandered out of.

“Nngh…! Noooo… no bed, please…” Malak whined, pushing his frame further into the wall behind him. At least, as much farther as he could, already shoved deep against it.

Nevan sighed. “You… you like it here?”

Malak only nodded weakly in response, his head swaying just the slightest bit from dizziness. Nevan lifted a thermometer between two fingers. “Okay… uh, can… Master Darius told me to take your temperature… again… can, can I?”

For a beat Malak considered allowing him to do so, before giving another slight nod of approval. “Umm… shh… sure…”

“Thank you. Say ah.”

The other man obliged, welcoming the thermometer under his outstretched tongue and accepting it by the grip of his lips. The two waited in silence, Nevan still brushing the other man’s skin as a means of comfort.

“Mm… one oh one.” Nevan read the numbers, disapprovingly.

“I’m sorry… sorryyyy… sorry…” Malak slumped back once again, head lolling onto his buckled shoulders. “Head weird… Nevan.” He whispered, shutting his eyes tight.

Nevan wanted to help him, he really did. He didn’t remember ever having been sick himself, but from the look of how hard it hit Malak, he could almost understand exactly how gross he felt. “No… I’m… I’m sorry.” How could he possibly help? How disgustingly useless.

Malak clawed feebly at his own skin and flesh, wriggling and fidgeting restlessly in his spot and portraying his own agony. “Don’t… don’t, ummm, like it… bad. Bad.” He whined, gratingly, the sound scratching against Nevan’s eardrums.

“Well… you’re, you’re talking a lot. That’s nice.”

“Feels weird… bad…”

Nevan frowned. “Well Master had to, to make you more… awake ‘n stuff so we can help you. That’s good… right?”

Adrastus had been practically forced to ease up on Malak’s enthrallment due to his ill state, him having been doing overall far worse with it as intense as normal. Plus, they required him to be able to communicate his pain in order to aid in his recovery. It was a condition he was, as expected, still adjusting to.

“Good… goood…” Malak mimicked. Nevan grinned, just a little bit from hearing the other man still utilizing one of his common habits even when dreadfully sick.

Before Nevan could open his lips to speak again, the door was nuged open so Adrastus could enter. Their arms were full with further bedding, elegantly lush pillows and blankets gathered for their favorite thrall. “Oh, dear, I’m back.” They bumbled in, heading straight to the thrall’s bed before they took notice of its absence of a body.

The pair followed as their face flipped to further distress in a flash, searching quick for their thrall, before landing on the two. “Nevan!” They exclaimed, recoiling an inch backwards. “You mustn’t be in here, get, get! You might catch it! I know how much you care about your little friend, but we just can’t risk you getting sick as well.”

Adrastus slipped between the thralls as Nevan stood to his feet, heading to leave as the vampire had instructed, but was held back by Malak gripping the bottom of his dress with a deadly grip.

“Goodness, how are you doing, baby? Tell me how you feel. What do you need? I can get you anything.” The vampire fussed, tucking their thrall’s sweat coated curls behind his ears and out of the way of his eyes.

Malak mewled, the edge of his words shaky and cracked as the urge to cry was swelling. “Bad… ickyyy…”

“Yes, love, I know, I know. What’s bad?” They pressed, urgently and needily.

He thought for a moment, processing their wants and questions, scouring for an acceptable answer. “Mmmngh… head… my, mmn, nose…”

“Alright, what can I get you? Umm… medicine? I’ll see if we have any more blankets? Please, baby, I’ll get you anything.” Their tone was growing ever so more distressed by the second, desperate for a solution as they nodded along with his soft but pained mumbles. The edge of their words was tainted with what almost seemed like fear.

Nevan watched their conversation unfold, stomach churning with sick and worry filled unease. He’d never seen Adrastus less than elegantly put together, never without their dignified, strict composure. The sight of them carefully trying to keep up their facade rattled anxiety in his bones.

“Want… want…” Malak gazed gently upward, meeting the other thrall with cloudy eyes that mirrored the still hazy fog of his mind. “Nevaaannnn… Nevaaaannn…!” He continued tugging at the dress flowing from Nevan’s waist, jerking him harder and harder as Nevan struggled against the much stronger man.

“No, no. No Nevan.” Their tone was devoid of anger, rather spewing with urgency. “Nevan. Leave.”

“Nooo! Nevaaann…! Need!”

His head was spinning, being called every which way. He didn’t know what to do, who’s orders to follow. His face was tainted with the scald of flattery, poorly hiding his excitement of someone, especially Malak, expressing a need of him. Him. Though, he knew such defiance was not acceptable.

“No, sweet, Master is right here. Nevan can’t help you, but master can. You could get Nevan sick.” Adrastus corrected with a strained smile, trying their very best to remain calm. “And, you like master more, don’t you? Master’s right here.”

Malak whined again, looking nearly dejected, making Nevan’s heart only hurt further with vigorous compassion. “Sorry… sorry… need, ummm, Nev… annn…”

“No! You are sick! You’re going to get him sick!” Their voice continued rising with stinging heat, shouting at their own thrall while still in a short vicinity. They had dropped any and all lingering peace in their mind, and Nevan jumped back, cowering weakly.

They never yelled at Malak. Never. Both thralls were understandably stuck in place with surprise, salty tears instinctively welling in Malak’s eyes. Nevan wished he could’ve done something, anything, but Adrastus' burning stare was well enough to keep him frozen in place.

“‘M sorry… sorry-”

“Ad, it’s okay, it’s just a fever.” Darius piped up from the back, soft and calm yet unexpected. The three huddled together whipped around to face him, Adrastus’ expression boiling with flushed anger and embarrassment. “He’ll probably get it anyway and they’ll both be fine.”

The other vampire shook their head frantically, a sight that only put Nevan more on edge. “No! N- no, he, he can’t get sick! We can’t let him get sick,

Hester can’t be sick.”

The air flipped the switch to silence, save for their quick and exhausted breaths. Nevan stared dumbly, all he really could do paralyzed by fear. He’d learned full well what happened when a vampire was upset.

Nevan had… never heard such a name before. Of course, not that he could recall, but still. It was sudden, and even Adrastus appeared disturbed that they had let it slip.

“Dear,” Darius interrupted, his voice eerily soothing and kind. He’d never spoken that way. At least not to Nevan, which wasn’t at all surprising. “You need to step away.”

“No, no, I-”

“Ad.” Their lips zipped to a close. “I need you to take a minute.” He looked to his own thrall, who shrunk back with festering fear. “Nevan, take them to the kitchen.”

Malak erupted, moaning in aching agony. “Nooo! Noooo… I need Master! Need… Nevan…”

Adrastus instinctively curled their hands over that of Malak’s, gaze full of unbridled abd desperate saccharine. “But- but what about-”

“Malak will be fine. I’ll stay with him.”

“But, the doctor-”

“Baby, the doctor said the same. He just needs rest and the meds she gave us.”

“Masterrr…!” Malak called again, his words cut apart by thick whimpers and snivels. The sound of his suffering carved deep marks in Nevan’s ears, and even more so Adrastus’.

“But…” they paused, begrudgingly stepping back from their upset thrall. Nevan looked to the other man with sorry eyes as Malak’s face twisted in disappointment as the two headed to leave. “Can I come back…?”

“Of course, Ad. I just need you to calm down, okay?” Darius placed a hand on each shoulder, tenderly guiding them to the door before Malak could continue his outbursts and convince them to stay. “You can take a couple sips from Nevan if you would like.”

“O- okay. Okay. But I’ll be right back to your side, baby. I’ll make sure Nevan is all nice and, and safe and away from any diseases.”

Nevan gave one last small wave to his friend before leaving, Adrastus gripping and squeezing his forearm, biting their lip with unusual nervousness. He tried not to pay too much attention to it. “Thank you, master.”

Though, as the two walked out to the kitchen and he kneeled beside his master, neck craned to show off his throat, even with his brain dazing out from their strong aura, he couldn’t help but dwell on the name they’d previously let slip instead of his.

Just who was Hester?

———————————————————————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @mylifeisonthebookshelf

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

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m0nsterqzzz · 4 months

Text

You're You

pairing: katniss everdeen x reader

summary: you get katniss flowers and she learns you don't have to have a reason to give someone a gift

warnings: nothing. pure tooth rotting fluff. actually, the tiniest bit of angst because katnisd everdeen is a walking angst oneshot but it's very very tiny i pinky promise

a/n: i loved writing this one and it just came so easily like i think you just got me out of a writing slump so thank you for requesting this @drima <3

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Humming a small tune quietly as you walk through the forest, you swing the woven basket in your hand back and forth. Your girlfriend has a hand on your lower back, gently leading you through the forest and to your garden. You know the land well after months of spending days out there while she’s hunting, but it still makes her feel better to walk you to the small clearing of land where you grow flowers, herbs, and vegetables before leaving to do her own thing.

“You yell if you need me. If the mockingjays can hear it, I can hear it.” She says as she spins you around to give you a tight hug. You guys stand there, hugging for a few seconds before she gives you a kiss on the forehead and sets off deeper into the woods where the animals like to stay.

She readies her bow by her side with an arrow lined up with it as she walks away, leaving you in the small clearing to do whatever you want. It's about the size of half a football field with trees surrounding it, as if protecting you from the harm of the districts and the capitol while you're there.

Your girlfriend made this garden for you after learning about the flowers your father used to grow, which the capitol instructed peacekeepers to destroy because they can’t deal with any form of joy. His garden was one of your favorite memories, so you basically cried when Katniss nervously showed you the garden. She had gotten some flower seeds from people in the Hob, then you added vegetable and herb seeds to sell and eat. It became your safe haven other than the home you and Katniss share, something only you, her, and her sister Prim know about.

Speaking of Primrose, you place some of the recently growing herbs in your basket so that she can use them in her medicine. She recently took over her mothers job as a nurse in the hospital, but the people who can’t afford the hospital- which is most of the townspeople- just come to your home for healing. You don’t mind, as having someone who’s at risk of dying asleep on your kitchen table is much better than letting them die.

Then you grab some vegetables to sell at the Hob. A few people buy them. One of your favorites is Mrs. Lenton, who buys the veggies to put in the soup she makes for the starving people in town. You always offer to give them for free, but she forces money into your hand every time.

You place the basket down on the dirt as you start planting some new seeds Katniss got you for tomatoes, and that's how you spend the next hour. Digging small holes, placing a couple seeds in it and then covering the holes with dirt and putting some water on them. By the end of the pack of seeds, you have a whole row of planted seeds, and you can finally sit back and admire the plants.

Pulling out the wrapped apple slices your girlfriend gave you this morning, you munch on those as you stare at the garden with admiration. Katniss is the best girlfriend you could ever ask for, and sometimes it feels like you don’t do enough to thank her for that. She always reassures you that you do, but still.

Your gaze moves to the flower section of the garden, which honestly doesn’t stay just there. After these ones were planted, more started growing all around the clearing, leaving very little spots when there aren’t the colorful plants. An idea comes into your head as you look at the plants, and you hurriedly stand up from your seat on the ground to inspect some flowers.

Besides Primrose flowers, blue daisies are your girlfriend's favorite. She would never admit that to anyone besides you and Prim, but it’s true. You grin, gently picking some white Primrose and blue daisies out of the ground to add them to your basket. You don’t grow roses in your garden, knowing Katniss associates them with President Snow. You already live a life controlled by the Capitol, why would you want to bring that into your home?

Your idea is to make Katniss a bouquet. Not a huge one like the ones in the capitol, but a few flowers added together and prettily wrapped up. Your girlfriend isn’t one for “cute” but she is one for romantic gestures. And what's one of the most original romantic gestures? Giving your lover flowers.

Picking up the woven basket, you make your way out of the clearing and back to the fence that borders your district. Katniss taught you not to sell the plants at the regular markets, as they ask way too many questions about where you got the plants. Just like it’s illegal for your girlfriend to go hunting, it’s illegal for you to have a garden anywhere other than in your district. Doesn’t stop you guys from doing it though.

The people in the Hob don’t ask where you got the stuff, just like always, instead just gratefully accepting items in trade for money or treats for your girlfriend and Primrose.

So that’s how you ended up at home, you and Prim standing at the kitchen counter. You're good with plants, but the young girl is good at making things look pretty. She arranges them in a way that makes them look almost market bought, then you guys wrap a piece of thin brown paper around them to hold it all together and tie it off with a white ribbon bow.

You hide the flowers behind your back when the front door opens, followed by the sound of your girlfriend taking off her boots and coat. “Hey girls?! I’m home!” She calls out, walking through the house until she finds you guys in the kitchen. “Oh hey. There you are.” She pecks you on the lips before giving her sister a quick side hug and opening the fridge.

"Hey Kat." You say, your tone going a little bit higher as you get more excited. "I got you something." She spins around to face you, a confused smile taking over her face as she nods. "Okay.....what is it?" Prim nudges your shoulder, and you pull out the flowers to show your girlfriend who stares blankly at them for a few seconds before saying, “They’re beautiful.” She stares at you before she clears her throat and rubs the back of her neck. “What are they for? What did I do?”

Both you and Prim stare at her for a few seconds before you shake your head and hold them closer to your girlfriend. “Do I need a reason to bring you flowers?” She hesitantly grabs them from your hand, as if afraid you’ll snatch them back and tell her you were kidding. “Well….I guess not.”

“You….you’re you. That’s reason enough.” You tell her, watching as all the unsureness leaves her and is replaced by pure happiness and a light blush coats her face. Not many people can say they made Katniss Everdeen blush. Let's see Gale do that.

She sets the flowers down on the counter to pull you into a gentle but protective hug, and Prim huffs as she walks out of the room.

Her hand gently cradles your head against her, and you guys stand there for what feels like forever, just enjoying each other's embrace before she whispers, “No ones ever gotten me flowers.”

You stay silent for a second, processing her words until you whisper back, voice quiet yet filled with determination, “I'll get you a million flowers Katniss. As many as I need to get you to see your smile permanently plastered on your face. And not the fake ones from the capitol or the ones you give to the people in town. A real one. One like the one you give me and Prim. The one that reaches your eyes and makes the corners slightly crinkle and you can't help but laugh because of how happy you are.” You can feel the way her smile grows against your shoulder where she's laid her head, and it makes you feel good to know you're the reason she's smiling like that.

“I want that to. I want to make you happy. Always.” “Well then you're on the right track Everdeen.” You playfully say, grabbing the bag of meat she brought inside to start dinner.

While you're starting to focus on the food, she reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, hand gently squeezing the ring box inside of it.

#katniss everdeen x you #katniss everdeen x reader #katniss everdeen #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games

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writing--whore · 1 year

Text

Taking Control

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader and Marc Spector x Reader

Summary: You always dominate your boyfriend, Steven, but you're curious to know what it's like to be dominated... you're curious to know what it's like to be dominated by Marc.

Word count: 750

Warnings: d/s, edging, cockwarming, handcuffs

A/N: Okay so I started this agesss ago and never finished it. Idk if anyone would still be interested in reading it now. Idk how alive the Moonknight fandom is anymore. If enough people are interested, I would love to finish this story now I'm out of my writing slump

A beautiful whimper left Steven’s mouth as you slid his dick up and down your folds. You’d been edging him for at least 15 minutes by now, his arms handcuffed to the bedposts, outstretched and vulnerable. You loved seeing him this way, so desperate for you that he was leaking precum like crazy, but too submissive to even complain.

You delved your head down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. He met you with equal fervour, greedy to accept everything you offered him. Your hand raked through his thick mop of hair and pulled his head back to expose his neck so your lips could roam lower. There was no need but you tugged harder, eliciting another whimper. You bit and sucked hard at his neck, in all the spots that you knew would drive him crazy.

But… For as much as you were enjoying yourself, you weren’t quite sure where to go from there. You’d dommed Steven pretty much every day since you’d been together. And you had to admit you were curious to give up control for once.

Your hips came to a stop.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

You had voiced your curiosity to be dominated earlier on in the relationship. Steven had tried to dom you, and you had to commend him for giving it his all, but his heart wasn’t in it. He could never stop being so gentle and careful with you. You loved him for it but you craved more.

You confessed that Marc’s personality - a polar opposite to your boyfriend’s - was intriguing. And after a long discussion, Steven had agreed that he was happy for you to experiment with Marc.

Marc had required very little convincing. His attraction to you was no secret, flirting with you at every opportunity. In fact, you’d say he seemed jealous that Steven had you all to himself.

“Yes, I’m feeling great.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek to reassure him and then averted your gaze as you tried to find the right words. “I… I was just wondering… are you still okay with me trying things out with Marc?”

“Oh. Yeah… Yeah, of course.”

Your face lit up and you pressed another kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Steven.”

A smile played across his face, slowly morphing into a smirk. His eyes languidly roamed across your naked form.

“You finally decided to see what you’ve been missing out on?” That gruff, American accent sent shivers through you.

He flexed his arms in the handcuffs. Never in a million years would he willingly be tied up in the bedroom. It was an embarrassment.

“I seriously suggest you get me out of these.”

Marc - usually so commanding and in control - was now at your mercy, his cock twitching at full attention. Suddenly, you were overcome with the desire to see Marc beg.

Staring calmly into his dark eyes, your hips started up their motions again, slowly gliding your folds along his length. You even decided to take it one step further, you sunk down onto his cock. Your eyelids fluttered with heavy lust at the feeling of his considerable girth stretching you out. And then you just stayed there.

A low groan escaped his throat as his head rocked back into the pillows. Marc’s dick was left feeling painfully sensitive after all the teasing you’d put Steven through. Not to mention your naked vision was absolutely glorious. He needed friction, he needed to fuck you. He needed it like a man starved.

“You’re gonna regret this, princess.”

“Oh really?”

You were the picture of smug as you rocked your hips to the tiniest degree. His fullness inside of you felt fucking incredible, and you could only imagine how excruciating the teasing felt for him.

Marc growled and his hands made fists, tugging hard at the cuffs.

You laughed at his futility. “I’m not going to move until you beg me, Marc Spector. I can do this all night.”

Hands turned to fists and his arms strained, veins popping to attention. Metal clinked and you didn’t even have time to process that he’d broken the handcuffs before his fingers were curling around your waist and you were being flipped over to be beneath him.

Fear was quick to replace your cocky demeanour. Your eyes flashed wide open and your mouth hung slightly ajar - with shallow breaths of air escaping your lips. You went completely still, frozen like a bunny beneath the claws of a fox.

"I told you I'd make you regret it."

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant x you #marc spector x you

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iobsesswaytoomuch · 2 months

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Numbing The Pain (or: everyone gets knocked unconscious :D) [Ninjago]

Soooo.... I kinda wrote a oneshot based on a headcannon by @jinxed-ninjago. I haven't really ever shown my writing to others, so we'll see how it goes. >:)

Cw: injuries, numbness, electrical injury and violence, uhhhhh... Overall angst?

In Jay’s opinion, being injured was less than preferable, for a number of reasons. Being stuck on bedrest every second of every day. Not being able to join the others for dinner as he listened to the laughter and joking echoing down the hall while he stared at the tray of food resting in his lap.

It wasn’t the other ninja’s fault he was lonely, he just really wished he didn’t have to stay in bed all the time. On the bright side though, he got to play video games all day, and he got out of the usual work to maintain the monastery. After all, nothing like the power of positive thinking!

It was a stupid injury. Why were legs so breakable?

They’d been training, like usual. He didn’t remember much, but he recalled being hit by something, then waking up to his leg in a cast and Cole apologizing profusely.

Apparently, Cole had accidentally lost control of his powers, and hit Jay with a boulder, causing him to land on top of Kai, unconscious.

He didn’t blame Cole though. He knew as well as anyone what it was like to lose control. It made him think of when they used to fight over Nya, as Cole had apologized. It was strange how far they’d come from that.

A sudden crash startled him out of his thoughts. More followed after that, banging and thudding and shouting. He heard the others rushing to meet the cacophony, and resisted the urge to leap out of bed and join them. They could handle it without him, and he’d (grudgingly) promised to stay put.

The sounds of fighting resounded through the room, and he grit his teeth. They’d be fine. He wondered what the heck was attacking them this time. The serpentine again? Nindroids? Maybe Garmadon had somehow come back again and was attacking? Some other random villain they’d never even heard of before? The questions raced through his mind like a river as he listened to the combat growing closer.

Abruptly, his thoughts were once again interrupted as Cole was thrown through the air, crashing against the wall beside him and crumpling as his yell broke off upon impact.

“COLE!!” Jay screamed as he slumped to the floor. “Hey, I already passed out this week! Don’t tell me you’re stealing my thunder,” he tried to mask his wrangled nerves with humor, but Cole didn’t answer.

“Oookay, so this is bad,” he mumbled to himself shakily as he considered his options. He could sit here and listen as the rest of his family was potentially defeated and/or hurt. He could try to help Cole (who hadn’t stirred yet but that was fine it’d be fine) somehow, without injuring himself more. Or, he could ignore his stupid broken leg and the pain that would undoubtedly follow, and go help them fight.

As he debated, Zane decided to join the party and hurtled into the room, landing on top of Cole. As his motion stilled, Jay gasped and held back a second scream as he took in the damage.

Half of Zane’s face looked as if it had been chewed on by a large, feral dog, ripped apart and unveiling the robotic parts underneath. One of his arms was missing, and there were open gouges displaying sparking circuits and wires, making sharp buzzing sounds. His eyes flickered as he spoke.

“S-system-m mal- mal-function- circuits-s ove-er loadd-ded-” his voice glitched before his eyes went dark and his body still.

Jay stared, open-mouthed, before he made a decision. Jolting upright, he leapt to his feet. Or at least tried to. As soon as any tension was put onto his foot, instant agony engulfed him, and he collapsed back onto the bed. Clenching his jaw tightly, he breathed through the pain as it slowly subsided the tiniest bit.

“C’mon Jay… You can do this!” he said, voice wavering, before trying again.

The pain was worse this time. His teeth grated against each other as his breathing became labored, but he managed to keep his footing this time. White hot knives felt like they were slicing up his leg, eventually getting so bad that it went numb.

“Well. That’s not good,” he said to the empty air as his voice quivered more. It still hurt, but now more like pins and needles gently poking him. Within a few more seconds, a lot of the feeling in his leg subsided, but he couldn’t stand any longer. Sagging against the bed, he slid to the floor. Now that he was off his foot, it started throbbing, making spots cloud his vision for a moment.

As he looked across the room at Zane and Cole (both still unresponsive, but at least Cole’s chest was rising and falling), an idea struck him.

“Huh… circuits… nerve circuits,” he said out loud as the idea developed. Sure, it was a very very stupid idea and could very well lead to bad results. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and by the First Master he wasn’t going to stand by! The shouting had intensified in volume, and he could make out the panicked voices of the other ninja. Besides, he and the others joked that his second elemental power was stupid ideas. That was his thing!

Mind still fuzzy from the aching torture he’d experienced moments before, he remembered Zane once infodumping about how nerves operated on electrical signals from the brain, and that when overloaded, could be numbed to pain (wow, he’d actually remembered that! See, he did pay attention, Kai).

Well. He was the master of lightning and therefore electricity after all.

“Oh boy. I’m definitely getting yelled at later for this,” he said under his breath as he closed his eyes and focused.

How was he going to do this? Could he even do this? Was it possible to shock himself? He’d never tried before, but had been shocked by other lightning on occasion.

He thought about it as he concentrated on his power. Using his element was like sneezing; almost instinctual, quick, and slightly jarring, pushing it outside of himself. So… he’d have to reverse that. Ignoring the feeling in his gut that this was going to be very terrible, he shoved the growing anxiety down.

Taking a slow, deep breath, he imagined he was inhaling electricity as well as oxygen, and it being distributed through his nerves.

A slight tingling sensation started circulating throughout his body, and he tried it again.

A blue glow emanated from him for a second behind his eyelids, sparking.

Then everything stopped.

The throbbing hadn’t just faded away. It was completely gone. Abruptly and instantly. And it wasn’t just the throbbing either; all feeling was absent. As he opened his eyes, he discovered that he couldn’t feel his clothes rubbing against his skin, the cold floor he was sitting on, the air stirring around him; it was all gone.

“Was this how Cole felt when he was a ghost?” Jay wondered, marveling at the numbness (and slightly panicking. He desperately hoped this could be reversed later).

Getting to his feet, this time without the agony part of it, he glanced back at his unconscious brothers one last time, then sprinted out the door and down the hallway, ignoring the way his foot crunched with every footfall. Doors blurred past him as he followed the sound of voices, now reduced to an alarmingly quiet level. There was no commotion anymore, sound just as absent as sensation. He drew nearer, then skidded around a corner and out into the training yard to observe the devastation that had transpired.

Wooden practice dummies had been splintered and broken apart, scattered everywhere. Sparring targets and weapons had been mutilated, somehow embedded into the walls and ground like shrapnel. Burn and scorch marks littered the scene, a part of the monastery wall crumbling. The sky was a deep gray, casting long shadows.

About thirty enemies were scattered around, standing at attention with their backs to Jay and seemingly waiting for something. Or someone. They wore dark, blood red kasas that cast their faces into shadow, obscuring them. White robes accented with blacks and oranges flowed around them, with brass cuffs wrapped around their wrists. Glowing gold fire designs engraved into the cuffs were arranged artistically to resemble flames wrapping around each other. Sleek black, braided hair fell down to their waists, with vivid, fiery ribbons interwoven into them. He guessed they were all female warriors. They stared straight ahead, toward the gate and eerily motionless. The voices he had followed were whispers, drifting and tangling with each other in the air and incomprehensible. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, but he shook it off.

Frantically, he cast his gaze around the yard, until he finally spotted the others. They were all dumped over in the corner, bodies splayed across the ground and faces contorted with pain, yet their eyes were closed and they all lay inert. After studying them for a moment, he noted with relief that they were all breathing.

Rage boiled inside of him, and his face hardened.

No one. Did. That. To the people he loved.

He turned back to the warriors spaced around the yard that still had not moved, hardly noticing the electricity starting to spark around his hands.

His emotions felt amplified. Stronger. His fury grew, consuming every other thought in his mind.

He started vibrating as the neon static spread from his hands to circulate and jerk around his body, intertwining ropes of blinding blues and whites.

Lightning flashed around his feet as he took slow, deliberate steps.

Finally, the enemies turned, and instantly and simultaneously crouched into fighting stances, raising various weapons.

Too bad for them, that did nothing but amplify the surge he finally let loose.

Sharp, blue-white cords arced toward each opponent, turning the air white and scorching. No sound escaped them as one by one, the strands of lightning hit them, causing their bodies to convulse. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement from the direction of the others, but paid no heed.

He ignored the way his body was steaming, and searched deeper as the unfortunate warriors still spasmed, unable to move and leave the current that he was feeding. There was no way he could stop now. He’d opened a door, and a thousand-pound waterfall had come gushing out.

He searched deeper still, disregarding the horrifying scene as he tapped into the energy stored within himself that he had put there in the first place.

Instinctively, hardly acknowledging what he was doing, he wrapped it into a twisted, contorted ball, then pushed everything out.

When it finally ran out, satiated, the air returned to normal.

Thuds echoed around the now-silent training yard, as each female warrior crumpled and hit the ground, steam spiraling from their clothes and skin.

Everything was bleached white, except for a small circle around the other ninja, where they lay untouched.

Nya was propped up on her arms, head lifted to gaze at Jay. He couldn’t tell what emotion it portrayed. There was admiration, and affection. But fear and horror was also painted across her face, and it pained him to know that he was the reason for it. She started to stand up, but Jay couldn’t think anymore.

Feeling had come back.

Everywhere was in excruciating anguish. His hands and arms were burned, with protruding raised zigzags of scorched skin beginning to turn red. He stumbled, wincing as he was suddenly very aware of his leg again.

“Nya. I-I’m sorryh…” he trailed off as his knees gave out.

“JAY!” she yelled as she dashed over to him, catching him before his head could hit the ground.

The last thing he remembered was being encircled by her arms as muffled shouts rose up around him. Trusting Nya to take care of him, his eyes shut, and he drifted off into oblivion, chasing away the agony.

Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Just unconscious :)

#Ninjago #jay walker #kai #zane julien #nya #Cole brookstone #Angst #fanfiction?????#writing #I have no idea how to tag this or if I'm doing it right #This is honestly probably the best thing I've ever written #Which isn't much since I haven't really written outside of school #heheheheheheh

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delilahsbabyaccount · 11 days

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Hi ❄ something romantic about Anna and Kristoff from Frozen 2, pls 🌻

~Fixer-upper~

♡ pairing: Anna x Kristoff

♥︎ summary: Kristoff is struggling with his vows the night before his wedding

♡ warnings: fluff; romance; hand-holding; hugs; comfort; nerves

♥︎ word count: 843

♡ inspired songs (in the given order): When She Loved Me - Lyn Lapid; ur so pretty - Wasia Project; so american - Olivia Rodrigo

a/n: I loved writing this, thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy reading it! It is a bit short but I quite like it. I love these two so much!!!! The images are intended for light mode so if you're reading this in dark mode it might look a bit strange <3

A deep sigh sank out of the restless groom's lungs as he stared drearily at the slightly crumpled paper in his rough hands.

"I just don't know what to write, Sven!" Kristoff yells in exasperation, crumpling up the paper once more before tossing it across the lantern-lit room and sinking to the wooden floor, his back against the closed door.

Empathetic noises smooth themselves from the reindeer's mouth, stepping closer to his friend's slumped body.

Kristoff's hands embed themselves into his hair. "You know I can never seem to get the words right!"

Another sigh.

"I just love her so much - but it's this harsh, heavy wonderful feeling that sits deep in my bones and I mean how am I even supposed to verbalize-,"

His body jumps at the loud knock erupted from the other side, but is quick to relax at his fiancé's whispered voice.

"Christopher?!" Anna's voice dance through the wood, obvious laughter at the tip of her mouth.

Rolling his eyes - but not without a soft smile painting on his lips - Kristoff opens the door by a crack.

"Ha ha, very funny. What're you doing here? Seeing each other is bad luck, remember?"

Anna softly bites her lip as she gently sits herself down in front of the door, keeping the two of them separate.

"I wanted to...well...know how you're doing?" Still whispering, she sneaks her hand through the crack, laying it palm-up.

Kristoff huffs out a faint chuckle before messily closing the gap and tangling his hand with hers.

"Let me guess, Olaf snitched?"

Kristoff's ears perk up at her soft giggle.

"He merely informed me-"

"Ah yes, informed."

Anna laughs again before letting a quietness settle.

"What is happening? Are you...having cold feet..?" She glances at the door, her breath wavering in hesitance.

"What?!" Kristoff nearly rolls over to face the slab of wood creating distance. "No! I want to love you in everyway possible for as long as I may, it's just-," a sigh as his shoulders relax, "I don't know what to write."

Anna tightens her grip on his hand, releasing a soft breath. "Okay, that's good. The loving part not the writing part, of course!" She tucks her recently-washed hair behind her ear before clearing her throat. "Do you have anything so far?"

Kristoff lets a beat pass as his frenzy washes over him before swallowing and motioning for Sven to bring him the paper. "Kind of?"

Sven snugs himself into Kristoff's side after returning the frustration-torn paper to the similarly torn man.

"Read it to me."

"Are you sure? Won't it be less special tomorrow then..?"

Anna gently shakes her head. "Is it going to be more special if there is nothing for me to hear?"

"You have a point-" Clearing his throat, he attempts to straighten out the paper, his hand shaking the tiniest bit.

"Dear Anna, you once heard me sing a song about how people will beat you and curse you and cheat you, but you have proven me wrong." Flushed in embarrassment, he lays his head on his knees.

Anna fights to keep the laugh in her mouth as she takes a deep breath. "Well it's a start-"

"Stop."

"I'm serious it has potential!"

Kristoff rips his hand from hers. "It's bad."

Chuckling, Anna gently opens the door and faces him - her eyes closed. "We're not breaking the rules if we still can't see each other, right?"

Without waiting for a reply, she pulls her groom into her arms and holds him tightly to her beating heart.

Kristoff breathes in her body, nudging his head into her wet hair and staying aware of how her hands trace his back. "You touch me like I am everything you have ever asked for. Underneath your hands I become poetry." He mumbles into her warm embrace.

"Tell me more." Anna whispers, playing with his soft golden hair.

"I cannot imagine any other possible purpose in my life other than devoting it entirely to you and I cannot begin to explain how grateful I am that you were crazy enough to go up that mountain after your sister."

Blinking away tears, Anna hugs him tighter. "You think I'm crazy?!" She playfully pokes him in his side causing him to jump back, both their eyes shut and their chests heavy with relief filled laughter.

"I think you've just said your wedding vows, Mister Fixer-upper."

Kristoff almost chokes his tears and his laughter, pushing her out of the room. "Yeah, I think I've got it now, soon-to-be Missus Fixer-upper."

"Oh yeah? Got it all sorted out now?" Anna pulls her face at him before recalling he won't be able to tell and gives him a swift kiss on the cheek.

He chuckles and takes her hands in his. "Thank you."

"Always."

"Now get out of here! Don't let a mere ice harvester keep the Queen from her beauty sleep."

Smiling brightly, Anna slips her hands from his and slowly steps behind her as the door creates insufferable distance once more and closes.

*Credit to the rightful owners of the pictures used<3

Do not repost, steal or copy.

#frozen #frozen 2 #kristoff #arendelle sisters #elsa #olaf #anna #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #oneshot #blurb #drabble #romance #wedding vows #wedding #romantic #love

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tchallasbabymama · 1 year

Text

Ménage à Trois Part Deux: Chapter One

Hey there! Mholo! Sawubona! What’s been up??? I know y’all missed me, and I missed y’all too. I think I’m figuring out the whole work/life balance thing a little better, but I still have less time to write than I used to. That being said, it might take longer than before, but I just couldn��t wait to start this series finally! For those of you who are new here, welcome, and check out the first part of this series HERE before you read part 2. Also, check out my masterlist HERE to see my other stories.

Your feedback is always appreciated, so leave comments and please, please, PLEASE reblog if you like what you read. As always, just let me know if you want to be added to this taglist, and ENJOY!😘

Word count: 5,023

T’Challa looked out over the bustling Golden City and tapped his long, slender fingers against the side of his leg. An annoyed grimace tightened his handsome face while his eyes frantically searched the skies for even the tiniest hint of movement from the west. Even though the king desperately wanted to pace around the room, he stood still while his tailor put the finishing touches on his suit for the night. His agitation grew as the time ticked on, but despite his less-than-pleasant mood, he couldn’t help but admire himself in the mirror when he caught a glimpse of his reflection. The embroidered black ensemble he chose for the occasion covered his streamlined body like running water. The locs that usually dusted his jawbone were twisted back into an elaborate bejeweled bun, and he looked every bit a king.

A knock at the door eased T’Challa’s anxious mind for a second until his younger sister swept into the room in her suit that mirrored his, just with a silky golden scarf draped across her shoulders. T’Challa’s own shoulders slumped with disappointment, but he pivoted to positivity quickly enough for Shuri to miss his initial reaction.

“Look at you copying your big brother,” he teased her.

Shuri rolled her eyes as she crossed the room, but she still dapped him up in their special way. He was still her favorite person, no matter how much he annoyed her.

“Whatever,” she sucked her teeth. “I wear it better than you.”

“Who lied and told you that?”

“Zora. And she’s about as honest as they come!”

T’Challa’s jaw tightened at the mention of her name.

“Where is she, anyway?”

“Late,” grumbled the king.

“I should have known,” Shuri chuckled. “She also never gets anywhere on time.”

T’Challa grunted in response, and Shuri noticed the annoyance in his voice. She put up her fists, playfully tapping him on the shoulder with a weak jab.

“Come on, bro. She’ll be here. Chill out.”

“She’s two hours late.”

“Was there a problem with the opening?”

“No. According to Okoye and Bahati, they just could not pull her away from conversing with the crowd.”

The princess smiled.

“You know how Zora is. Or has it been so long that you’ve forgotten?” she asked him dramatically, with a hand to her chest.

“Just wait until you meet someone. You’ll finally understand why being apart is so painful.”

“It’s been two weeks, T’Challa. You’ve gone away for longer on missions before.”

“Being the one left at home makes the time move slower.”

“I guess.” Shuri shrugged as she plopped down on the end of the bed and began picking at her fingernails–an anxious habit that she rarely resorted to. T’Challa immediately caught on to her discomfort, and his overprotective nature flared in his chest. He hated when Shuri wasn’t her normal bubbly self.

“Something bothering you?”

“Just your mother.”

T’Challa laughed away the tension that had built in his shoulders just that quickly.

“What did our mother do this time, Shuri?”

The exasperated younger sibling groaned as she fell backward onto the bed, “She won’t stop trying to set me up!”

“Who is it now?”

“Nakia’s younger cousin, L’Nela.”

T’Challa’s face scrunched up disapprovingly. Even the tailor stopped moving the lint roller across the king’s chest to look at Shuri in disbelief before continuing his job.

“She’s not your type,” T’Challa stated as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

“You know that. I know that. All of Wakanda knows that! But mother is horrible at lesbian matchmaking. Bast bless her for trying, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take, brother!”

“I will talk to her,” the king chuckled at her dramatics.

“Well, actually, I came to see if Zora would-“

T’Challa’s kimoyo beads chimed with the tone he had reserved for his love, and the communication bead rolled down into his palm.

“Speak, and she shall appear,” he grumbled as Zora’s hologram smiled at him apologetically.

“I know, I know, I’m late-”

“Two hours, Zora?”

“I couldn’t just cut off the Ghanaian ambassador and ignore the excited children, T’Challa.”

“Brother’s been in a sour mood all day,” Shuri tattled from her spot on the bed, and Zora chuckled before her picture cut out momentarily.

“What are you doing?” T’Challa asked with an accusatory tone, his eyes squinting curiously.

“Getting dressed-“

“Just now?! It’s a two-hour ride!”

“I needed a nap!”

“I tried to tell her,” snarked Bahati, now promoted to Zora’s assistant, as she helped her into her attire for the evening.

“Not you both ganging up on me! I can be late to my own damn event if I want to. And need I remind y’all I’m not even that late? We’ll be landing in a minute.”

“A minute?” T’Challa asked for clarification, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“More like ten, kumkani wam.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Bahati.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Bahati,” Zora mocked. “You know, sometimes I think she’s your favorite.”

“It’s because she listens.”

“She’s paid to listen; I’m not.”

“Don’t I know it,” T’Challa smirked, and Zora mirrored the expression.

“I’ll be there soon, love.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

————-

Racing through the central African skies on the Royal Talon, Zora ended the call and allowed the makeup artist to touch up her gold eyeshadow while Bahati zipped up the side of her backless black jumpsuit.

She knew she was pushing T’Challa’s nerves by running so far behind schedule, but Zora liked it when he was all worked up about one thing or another. Granted, that wasn’t actually her intention this time. She really did get caught up at the grand opening of the new Wakandan International Outreach Center in Accra. Still, she recognized that she should have planned for that possibility instead of booking a gala immediately after.

After two years of working with T’Challa and foreign dignitaries to bring her vision to fruition, Zora was finally kicking off her student exchange program. One hundred students of all ages, fifty from Wakanda and fifty from across the diaspora, would trade places for a semester. Zora spent countless hours pouring over applications and hand-picking who she thought would benefit most from the carefully crafted program. Now the diaspora students were coming to Wakanda for a warm welcome.

As excited as Zora was for her exchange program to begin, she was running on fumes and needed time to relax and refuel. Not only had she just left Ghana, but she and T’Challa had just visited several Outreach Centers before that. Their trip started in Oakland at the very first Outreach Center. Then, they made stops in Houston, New Orleans, Chicago, D.C., and Atlanta before finishing their rounds in Charleston, where they met their goddaughter for the first time. Unfortunately, T’Challa couldn’t visit long because the elders called him away to handle a security problem near the southern border, but what little time he spent with the new addition to their extended family was more than enough to make an impact on Zora.

Indigo Ayers-Odun, daughter of Keisha and Dakarai, absolutely took Zora’s breath away. She was the best of both her parents, with her mother’s catlike eyes and her father’s broad smile. Zora and T’Challa were both tickled by how cautious the little girl was with them initially. Dakarai’s cautious nature shone through her before Keisha’s bubbly personality took over once she determined they were trustworthy enough for her to bless them with her laughter. She was a little miracle. One that captured the attention of everyone around her and made them wonder about making little miracles of their own.

Zora got caught up in the magic. As soon as she observed T’Challa playing with the infant, she began wondering if maybe the time was right to try for one. She thought of her belly stretching and her hips cracking to make way for a baby that she hoped looked like her twin, and a warmth filled her chest. Those thoughts didn't stick around long, though. They were quickly shot down by her logical mind telling her she was too busy for babies, but they still lingered in the back of her consciousness like a dull headache.

T’Challa noticed the way Zora’s eyes seemed to look past Indigo into the potential future, and M’Baku saw it when she called him on her kimoyo beads so he could see the baby while stuck in Jabariland. Neither man mentioned their observation, but they both held onto hope that they could become parents soon. They tried to hide their baby fever from Zora so she wouldn’t feel pressured, but she knew what they wanted. And as the days passed by, she wanted it more and more, too…

The thought of a tiny hand wrapping around her tattooed finger made Zora sigh as her eyes examined the design, and Bahati smiled knowingly at her friend.

“Missing your Jabari man?” she asked.

Zora simply nodded, not wanting to get too deep into the true reason for her melancholy.

“The gala will fly by, and you can be together after.”

“I know,” Zora sighed again. “I just hate having to treat him like a spare.”

“Zora, I’m sure he knows he’s not a spare. This is all just for show. It’s all politics.”

Zora glanced at herself in the full-body mirror, and a sense of déjà vu washed over her as she found herself transported back to her first morning waking up in Wakanda. She’d never forget the day that Bahati first gave her, Keisha, and that incompetent ambassador a tour of the country that she now called home. She had come a long way in just two, almost three short years. Zora was just an ambassador’s assistant when she first came to Wakanda. So much had changed in her life with that trip to Wakanda. It was supposed to be for a few short weeks, and she ended up falling in love with the country and two of its sons and sticking around. Now, Zora couldn’t imagine living anywhere else in the world.

“Don’t worry. Tonight will be a breeze,” Bahati reassured Zora as she gave her one last glance over to check for anything out of place.

Zora smiled at her friend and let the optimistic words wash over her. Tonight would be a breeze…

---------

Black students and their chaperones, journalists, and government officials from across the diaspora flew into Birnin Zana earlier that day, and each member of the royal family greeted them with a welcoming speech when they arrived. Shuri spoke of her excitement about sharing her technology with the brilliant young minds that had come to Wakanda. Ramonda spoke of how her travels with her late husband only gave her a taste of the outside world but encouraged the young Wakandans that would spend time beyond their borders to truly appreciate the cultural exchange. T’Challa ended the welcome brunch by telling them how the program came to be: Zora. He explained her absence and promised she’d grace them with her presence at the gala when she returned that evening.

Zora ensured each guest received a kimoyo bracelet complete with translator capabilities, and Wakandan tour guides were assigned to small groups of five to ten people. The following day, they’d all receive the same tour that Bahati and T’Challa gave Zora and Keisha when they arrived, plus more specialized tours based on academic focus. The Wakandan students would be greeted by their host communities in their own unique but similar ways. They mingled with their visitors with ease, and by the start of the gala, the only thing that separated them was the culturally specific styles of their formal attire.

The event was held in the palace courtyard, with the setting sun front and center for the guests to marvel at while they trickled into the space from their lodgings across the city. Zora had spent months working with a team of artists, contractors, and craftspeople to make sure the courtyard (as well as the entire palace and the visitor’s apartments) was perfect and to her liking for her visitors. Drummers struck their instruments with their palms in a high-energy rhythm that got the guests dancing before the event began. By the time the guests spotted the Royal Talon descending from the sky on the other side of the palace spires, spirits were so high that they erupted into applause that rang out loud enough for Zora to hear inside the aircraft.

She was a vision in black when T’Challa laid eyes on her as she came down the ramp, and as soon as she saw him, her face lit up. Zora ran to T’Challa and jumped into his arms, not caring about messing up their formal attire or makeup. Their lips locked in a wet embrace they had longed for over the past two weeks, and their bodies came alive at the other’s touch. His firm hands held her up and grabbed her cheeks to pull her body closer to his while her arms wrapped around his neck. Tongues explored mouths, and they breathed as one again.

Being apart for the past two weeks was rough for Zora and T’Challa. Seeing Indigo brought up a lot of emotions for them both, and being without their loves during that time made for some lonely nights. Kimoyo chats can only do so much, especially when Zora loved taking every opportunity she could to tease her man. Her fingers would explore her depths while she panted and moaned and called his name, wishing her walls were contracting around his girth, and he couldn’t help but stroke himself until he overflowed with passion watching her performance. He’d tell her what to do, and she’d become her bratty self instantly, forcing him to keep a running tab of her infractions.

There were eight.

Half of those infractions come from her insistence on not calling him by whatever name he allows her to at the time. Sometimes he wants to hear her call him the same name as the rest of the world, and other times he only allows “Sir.” When she wants to get under his skin, she’s always resorted to calling him by his title, and T’Challa kept count of four times when she chose to push that button.

Another three came from her refusal to take his directions. He told her to remove her panties; she pushed them to the side. He ordered her to stop rubbing her clit when she seemed like she was about to climax, but Zora did it anyway, a satisfied smirk on her face as her juices dripped down on her hand. Then, her striptease while the king was in a meeting with the council. Every few seconds, T’Challa’s kimoyo beads dinged with a picture that he dared not open until after the meeting, each one of her in fewer clothes than the one before. By the time he called her after the meeting ended, she was cumming all over her favorite vibrator and screaming his name in her soundproof suite on the Talon while he tried his best to maintain composure in the two free minutes he had in his schedule.

The last infraction was when Zora’s bratty side got out of hand. T’Challa had missed her usual before-bedtime call, and when he called her back twenty minutes later, Zora was tired and cranky from a long day of global politicking. Her attitude made her mouthy, and when she accused him of sleeping with his assistant, he’d had enough. The following day, she didn’t even remember their conversation, but the king had already begun plotting revenge.

Those thoughts of punishment disappeared from T’Challa’s mind when he saw Zora in the flesh again. His heart nearly stopped as he took in her curves, from the royal purple polish on her stubby toes to the tip of the beaded halo resting comfortably in her curls. His hands felt like they were glued to her ass, and he couldn’t help but squeeze it tighter and test the jiggle in his hands to make sure it was all still there.

Zora whimpered against T’Challa’s mouth when his fingertips got dangerously close to her lower lips, and his body responded with a rush of blood between his legs. He pressed his pelvis into her warmth and held her tighter while she gripped him as if he would ever drop her.

“Oh, my Bast!”

Zora pried her eyes open at the interruption and saw T’Challa’s new assistant trying her best to remain professional. The rest of the staff was used to their displays of affection and worked around them like it was nothing, but poor Kidada looked stunned to see her boss and king in such a precarious position.

“Uxolo kumkani–”

The two lovers cooled down and pulled apart with a chuckle, and the king waved off her nervous ramblings.

“No need to apologize, Kidada.”

She nodded and pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her round nose, looking away nervously while Zora and T’Challa were both swarmed by their stylists.

“How’s it looking out there?” Zora asked the assistant while the makeup artist touched up her lipstick.

“The visitors saw the Talon arrive, and they’ve begun asking for you.”

“We won’t keep them waiting much longer.”

“We?” T’Challa scoffed, and Zora cut her eyes at him, forcing Bahati to stifle a giggle.

“We’re a unit now, T’Challa, or have you forgotten your vows?” Zora teased, and it became T’Challa’s turn to cut his eyes.

“As if I could ever do such a thing.”

“I know, baby. You love me too much.”

“That and the eidetic memory,” T’Challa smirked, his eyes trailing up to the isicholo on Zora’s head.

His mind traveled back to the day he first placed it there as vividly as if he still existed in that very moment. The procession through Birnin Zana was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen until they made it to the palace steps, and he was allowed to turn around and face his future wife. The brightly colored flower petals that filled the air and covered the ground they walked on as they made their way through the city streets had nothing on Zora in her intricately woven purple robes and stark white wedding paint. Ramonda comforted Cheryl as they gave their children away to be married on the palace steps, and both mothers had tearfully proud smiles on their faces as the priestess declared their union to be blessed by Bast. T’Challa remembered hearing slight sniffles coming from Shuri’s direction, but he was too busy gazing into his new wife’s twinkling eyes as he secured her crown.

Zora caught him staring, but she knew where his memory had taken him. She reached out her hand to intertwine their fingers, and the swirling patterns that the tattooist etched into their skin the day they were wed completed the design in the way they intended.

“Let’s go,” she said with a soft smile.

T’Challa brought her hand to his lips and led the way out of the dressing room with Kidada, Bahati, and their Dora Milaje detail on their heels.

“My king, my queen,” Kidada rushed out as she followed behind them. “The queen mothers and the princess are already seated at the table, as are the council members, and the-”

“M’Baku?” Zora stopped walking and looked back at the assistant expectantly, but Kidada deferred to T’Challa.

“Zora,” he began, “he decided it would be best if he kept his distance. He sent Dembe in his absence.”

“Oh.” Disappointment weighed on Zora’s vocal cords like the heaviest boulder. “Is he ok?”

T’Challa sweetly cupped Zora’s face with the hand not interwoven with hers.

“He knew he could not remain professional in front of our guests.”

Zora nodded solemnly, and took a step forward, only to be pulled back into T’Challa’s embrace.

“My love, he-”

“I understand… it’s hard for me, too.”

He kissed her forehead, and the two of them took off again towards the courtyard with their entourage in tow.

Zora tried to go over her speech, but her mind kept wandering back to M’Baku. She couldn’t help but feel a little hollow inside every time he came up. That emptiness came not just from missing her Jabari man, but because, in order to build relationships with foreign dignitaries, Zora had to become something she despised: dishonest. More than telling simple lies, she had to hide a piece of herself because of her global peers’ conservative sensibilities surrounding non-traditional relationships.

Wakanda was already under so much scrutiny from the global press. The country’s name was being dragged through the mud by conservatives and liberals alike for their exclusionary practices, neither side of the political spectrum truly grasping the concept of reparations for descendants of chattel slavery. The United Nations was breathing down their necks for a taste of vibranium. Zora specifically had become the target of many a smear campaign calling her every foul name under the sun for “sleeping her way into the palace”—a sentiment that lost a news reporter in the UK his job when his boss mysteriously received pictures of said reporter in blackface taken just two years prior.

To Wakandans, and many people around the world with liberated mindsets, polyamory is just another way of life; there are also many who see it as unacceptable, especially when a woman has more than one man. The woman is considered loose and therefore unworthy of respect, and the men are seen as weak for allowing such a thing to transpire. As incorrect as that thinking is, Zora knew all too well the ass-backward logic of the colonized world, and it was her decision to keep the true nature of her relationship with M’Baku under wraps to be taken seriously. The world would at least halfway respect a gold-digger, but a whore, especially when in the body of a Black woman, was seen as nothing more than an object to be used. To only speak when spoken to and to not demand the respect said whore deserves.

That meant that while the visitors were inside Wakanda, the throuple was to act as a couple in public, and that M’Baku didn’t join Zora and T’Challa for diplomatic trips to foreign countries. However, when Zora chose to keep her other man from the world, she quickly learned that it wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. In fact, it downright ripped her apart every time she had to restrain herself from holding his hand or planting a kiss on his cheek in specific settings. Every time Zora had to lie about their relationship or stop herself from touching him, her stomach churned at the lack of affection, but she’d always more than make up for it later.

Zora gave up on practicing her speech and let her mind wander to after the gala when the three of them would be together for the first time in weeks. She knew her guilt would make it difficult for her to accept the intimacy that M’Baku and T’Challa were undoubtedly about to lay on her for both her successful event and to celebrate their reuniting after her travels. She’d have to pay extra close attention to M’Baku, but as soon as she began planning all the things she wanted to do to him, the group arrived at the final set of double doors leading to the courtyard.

---------

The king and queen of Wakanda smiled so wide their cheeks hurt as they took picture after picture with their guests, much to Okoye’s dismay. She was on high alert, having so many foreigners in her home country, and although she loved the idea of the children coming to visit, she loathed the politicians and journalists that followed them. She didn’t trust them one bit, so she had her Dora Milaje, the palace guards, and the tribal warriors, on guard. Of course, each person had been vetted, and no weapons were brought into the country, but the warriors remained ready just in case something popped off.

The general scanned the crowd while Zora spoke to a twelve-year-old girl who was interested in design and had complimented her isicholo when she noticed the entrance to the gardens darken, and a prominent figure appeared from the shadows. Okoye fought a smirk as she continued to survey the space, and as soon as the young girl left Zora’s side, she leaned in close to whisper a message to her queen.

“Your husband is here, kumkanikazi wam.”

Zora’s face lit up, and she instantly began searching the crowd for his figure until she felt a nudge on her shoulder. She looked T’Challa’s way, and his eyes darted to the back corner as he nodded in that direction, having heard Okoye’s whisper with ease. Zora’s gaze followed his lead, and not a second later, her body felt flush as she laid her eyes on none other than the chief of the Jabari himself.

M’Baku stood near the entrance to the gardens wearing his chief furs, his large arm guards filling out his already massive silhouette in a way that made Zora’s mind go straight to the gutter. She felt a tingle between her legs at the thought of parading around his room in his furs while he was naked and tied down to his bed. The queen tried in vain to fight the urge to stare, but she was too weakened by his presence. He felt her gaze from across the room and looked away from his conversation with his liaison Dembe. Their eyes met, and it was as if the entire room had melted away. All that mattered was the man by her side and the man yards away from her. The only thing she felt was T’Challa’s warm arm sliding around her waist and the icy chill of M’Baku’s absence from her other side.

Always knowing exactly what Zora was feeling, T’Challa leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Now would be a good time for you to stretch your legs if you’d like.”

Zora tore her eyes away from M’Baku, and they landed square on the only man the entire world knew to be hers, a knowing and thankful smile gracing her plump lips before she met him for a chaste kiss.

“I’ll be back.”

T’Challa unhanded her waist and let her slip from his side, his eyes slyly taking in her figure in her jumpsuit as she sashayed toward the gardens with Ayo not far behind. He didn’t have time to daydream about what lay beneath the dark fabric because the U.S. Secretary of State dampened his mood by stepping into his line of vision.

While T’Challa was being hounded by Secretary Ross yet again, Zora slowly made her way through the room, stopping every few steps to mingle while she monitored M’Baku as she grew closer and closer to his warmth. When she stopped just four feet away from him to applaud a blended group of teenagers dancing together, he slipped away from Dembe and back into the gardens, causing Zora to smirk. So, he wanted to play games?

Zora glanced at T’Challa across the room to check in, and his slight nod gave her all the approval she needed.

“Ayo, please make sure we are undisturbed.”

“Ewe, kumkanikazi wam,” the lieutenant nodded and stood guard at the garden entrance.

Zora winked at Dembe as she slipped through the gate, and they sent back a knowing little wave as she disappeared into the shrubbery. The sounds of the party grew fainter with every step she took into the depths of the lush gardens until her stilettos became louder against the stone path than the drums in the distance. Zora’s feet carried her all the way there on autopilot, and when she rounded the last corner, her body came alive when a warm presence engulfed her.

It was a presence she knew all too well, one she had joined with before Hanuman in a ceremony that brought tears to her eyes. When she looked down at the large hands that had taken hold of her waist, a smile took over her face at the black ink embedded in the skin. His and her hands marked forever to solidify their union, just as her right hand held the same marks that decorated T’Challa’s skin. Her smile grew wider when he pulled her in tight and kissed her neck, his hands gripping the two strands of beads that decorated her waist given to her by her two husbands in a much more intimate exchange within the confines of her bedroom.

“You were great up there, my sweet,” M’Baku rumbled into the crook of her neck, and Zora sighed into the deep vibrations.

“How would you know? You missed my speech.”

“Dembe recorded on their beads so I could still watch you.”

Zora turned around in his arms and cupped his bearded face in her hands.

“I wish you could’ve been there with me.”

M’Baku kissed her deeply.

“I do, too.”

Zora reached for his hand and led him to her favorite bench in the entire garden. It had been carved from the trunk of an ancient tree that fell during an unseasonably powerful storm that blew through the night Shuri was born and placed in a secluded corner of the gardens. The carpenter paid extra close attention to detail when they made it, and Zora couldn’t help but feel drawn to it every time she entered the green space. So much so that M’Baku and T’Challa regularly found her escaping her duties by reclining on that very bench and soaking up the fresh air in silence.

“I have missed you, Zora,” M’Baku mumbled, his lips dusting over Zora’s knuckles as he planted soft kisses on her inked skin.

Zora’s lips met his before she could even think to preserve her makeup, and not seconds later, she was straddling his lap… until the sound of a shutter pierced the air, and a rustling of leaves forced them apart.

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @brihann, @impremenior, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @brattyfics, @cecereads209, @afriendlyblackhottie, @queengodiva619, @musicisme333, @dersha89, @ljstraightnochaser, @bornamiracle, @xoxoviva, @goddessofmischief0711, @issahyland, @blkbutterfly816, @judymfmoody, @novaniskye, @prettystringbean, @martakllv, @blackpinup22, @griot-of-wakanda, @mermaidchansons

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fanfiction #t'challa x oc x m'baku #t'challa x oc #m'baku x oc #black!oc #throuple #polyamory #bisexual #m'baku fanfiction #m'baku smut #m'baku fluff #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa smut #t'challa fluff #bisexual t'challa #bisexual m'baku #bisexual!oc #Spotify

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danddymaro · 2 years

Text

Believe me| Anasui x Reader

we got a clingy reader here guys (ToT)/~~~

so its basically a Clingy/insecure reader x Anasui thing cause sometimes we toxic, but we toxic together damn it. Don’t tell me he wouldn’t love a clingy S/O

Sorry, I had this widdle idea OWO, i’m still trying to get comfy writing him.

Word count: 1392

Believe Me

You're home.

You think about it with relief as you find your way into his embrace.

sluggishly you move to the destination, and once you reach it, your body slumps toward him.

In the secretive room that only you and your friends know about, there's just one more confined spot that only you can find refuge in, and it's in his arms.

It's a safeness when every bothersome thought you have has you so anxious and uncertain it feels like the damn walls of the prison might crumble down and crush you.

His body felt so incredibly warm, so unmistakably strong as the muscles beneath his smooth skin hold you close to him, securing you in a world he creates just for you.

And during that moment, you breathe out a soft hum that was of the coziest relief.

"Anasui...." you nearly moan, and you say his name with so much fondness, he swears that it's the sweetest sound.

He tells you over and over without tiredness that he adores how your tone changes when you say it, much more speak to him altogether.

He holds you, keeps you on the ground when your mind runs so much your body feels distant from you.

You stay there together, unmoving, and after a long breath in , you realize how you have yet to say anything to him. You just cling onto him, and it’s one of your troubles.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, your face pressed against his chest, hiding from the world, even from him.

Something's come over you, and it's only in that moment that you can finally be you, the you who can show the cracks that marry your mask of strength you have to show during your imprisonment.

He pulls up a rather gentle smile that’s barely existent as he brings his eyes down to where you are,

" Sorry for?" he asks, curious, wanting to know what's on your mind.

By the way your hands press against his back he has no doubt something’s weighing down your heart, and he has to know what it is.

"Because I'm like this..." you add, and it makes him pull back just a bit to try and actually look at you, to recognize what face you are wearing.

"Like...?" he says just that word, and you can see he's confused.

There's a little pout he performs when he's trying to think, and you smile halfheartedly at him because it makes you feel even more guilty for the things your mind conjures up.

He’s too sweet to you, too patient.

" Needy..." you tell him, embarrassed.

"- Complicated," you then add, not sure how else to describe yourself.

You start to think too much, and when you do, you need him.

You need his presence, his touch.

You need that something that makes your body feel yours rather than the strange numbness that dwells within.

- And lately, you’ve been thinking about how much you take from him.

He chuckles warmly, and the sound is somewhat airy as he shifts, because he gets it. You’d talked about it before, mentioned it just once before dismissing the conversation.

-But he was a man to remember it.

His right hand is then holding your chin, tilting it up just a bit to look at you better.

His eyes look down at you, making you feel blank, absolutely nothing before you are struck with a powerful surge of everything that makes that man your utter weakness.

It's like it takes you a moment to process it all before you're hit full force.

you visibly shake with the way he stares down at you because it's like you are the only thing there for him to look at.

"Again with that..." he murmurs, realizing what it is that troubles you.

He gives you a small peck, and even if it's short-lived, he still closes his eyes like it's a deep press, like he savors all of it even if it's the tiniest sample of you.

“My love...” he breathes, "I sometimes wonder if I'm doing something wrong," he then says as he goes in for another kiss, and then another.

You accept them, responding back without a trouble in the world before he says more,

"- Am I not loving you enough?" he adds with a quaver to his voice as he takes a short pause..

You can hear it in his tone and your heart clenches just a bit because none of it is his fault.

"What are you missing from me?" he asks as his lips brush yours again, and it's a question he asks himself.

He has to know, anything to get closer to you.

Anything to not lose you.

You think about the question because it's one you ask yourself. It's what you wonder about your own being because you know you’re the problem.

Immediately your eyes burn, and you suck in a shaky breath as you pull back.

"No!" you can't find a way to say it all at once, to tell him how if anyone is screwing up it's you.

Your hands touch his cheeks, holding them so that even if you can't speak it, he can see it in your eyes.

He can read you and find the answer there.

- That you love him...love him Too much.

So much that you're the one that's insecure.

You are the one that just thinks too much about all the what if's.

Like, what if he realizes that you're not good enough; that your little moments are too much trouble for him?

What if he regrets being with you...

What if buried somewhere in him, there's a part holding onto Jolyne?

"Obviously I am if you feel this way," he said with a small blow of dissatisfaction, but he doesn't quite take it with insult.

He doesn’t seem angry, or even annoyed, just discontent with the matter.

He loves you as you are, and he does mean it.

If you feel uncertainty, then he's there to give you that assurance you need, because there's no one more devout than he is.

“I feel...” you start, and you nearly choke as you try to continue, “I love you! I feel like I love you!” you tell him. “I know I love you!” you muster.

“I do...and I need you,” you continue, and it tugs at his heart to hear that desperation.

"You need me..." if you could only understand how much it incites a primal heat in him when he truly thinks about it.

-For you to say it, it has him weak.

You, as strong as you are, have a weakness that only he can tend to, one that only he's witnessed.

You trust him, You hold onto him.

You seek him and feel just as drugged by him as he is by you.

You, whose voice doesn't quaver in the face of fear, softens so tenderly when spoken to him.

No one's ever comforted you the way he has, no one has touched your soul as he has and could, and he swallows hard before he goes in again for another kiss that has you breathless as he backs you into the chilled wall of the room.

The kiss is different from the ones of before, as it’s much more desperate.

his arms wrap around you again, and you lose yourself in his affection.

Again your mind blanks, and you don't think of anything but how wonderful it feels to have him invade your senses in the selfish way he does, like he can't get enough of you and needs more.

Oh you feel so stupid.

How could you doubt him?

How could you be such an idiot?

you ask yourself how, and you feel even more guilty over those invading thoughts.

"I'm not going anywhere..." you hear him say, like he’s reading your mind and answering the next thought that tells you you don’t deserve him.

The way he's holding you close tells you that it would have to be a powerful force that tears you apart.

He stops for just a moment to sweetly hold your face, his eyes looking into yours with promise,

A soft 'I love you' escapes his beautiful lips before he goes in for another passionate kiss.

“Don’t doubt me...” he pleas.

Little note for my buddy I didn’t tag cause I'm nervous: Hey you little Florida man Sloot. I hope you liked it ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

#anasui narciso #anasui x reader #anasui x reader insert #anasui x y/n #anasui x you #anasui narciso x reader #anasui narciso x reader insert #anasui narciso x y/n #anasui narciso x you #JJBA fanfiction #jjba fanfic #JJBA #Part 6 Stone Ocean #Stone Ocean #stone oncean fanfic #stone ocean fanfiction #jjba stone ocean #part 6 jjba

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jichuzip · 1 month

Note

Hiii!! Can I request 30, 21 and 15 from the prompt list for either Garroth or Laurence? I really like how you write them

# Lost in the long run

Minecraft Diaries // Lee! Laurance, Ler! Garroth // fanfic

"What did you just say to me?", "I know other ways to make you talk.", "It's been forever since i heard that laugh!"

Nonnie i'm shaking you. /pos

I'm terrible at starting fics HELP

Laurance shoved his sword into it's stand, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

He rolled his shoulders back, satisfied with the small crack it produced. He could feel the loght pulsing pain in his back fading.

He couldn't keep another grin off his face when he heard the creaking of the ladder under the weight of someone climbing up it.

The old floor of the tower creaked and groaned as the new person made it to the top, a familiar grunt filled the air.

"That boy can fight." Another groan, earning a snicker from Laurance.

He didn't need to look behind him to know who it was.

"You don't just get the position of head guard for no reason, Garroth." Laurance muses before he adds. "You should know that."

Garroth grunts again, putting his own sword into a stand as well.

The blonde sighs. "Yeah, yeah i know. Still, aren't we supposed to be older than him?"

Laurance finally turns, looking at the other man's back. He pauses for a second before replying with a lopsided grin. "Not anymore."

Garroth slumps forward the tiniest bit, holding onto the grip of his sword. "Right."

Now, Laurance wasn't stupid. He could tell Garroth was still adjusting to coming back from the Irene Dimension almost 16 years into the future.

And he totally said the wrong thing, mentally he cursed himself.

"Well..." He started, but didn't finish.

He turned back to stare at his own sword, he didn't like the sight of the blonde upset, it was already bad enough he wasn't there when he returned.

Slowly, a grin stretched it's way into his lips.

"He really beat you back there, for a former head guard you seriously got your ass handed to you."

Silence followed.

Silently, Laurance cursed himself again, he was digging his grave deeper. Making this worse!

"...What did you just say to me?"

This was bad, he totally fucked this up, and now Garroth totally angry and also why did he say that like he was grinning?

Slowly, Laurance turned around. One eye squeezed shut and the other just barely opened to see Garroth's blurry reaction.

Only to come face to face with his grin. A grin he knew, and oh he was screwed. His eyes near popping out of his skull as he snapped them open and widened them.

"Hey..." He started, turning fully around and holding his hands up defensively. "We can talk about this."

Garroth simply raised a brow, a low hum coming from his throat. "I merely asked you to repeat what you said." He said rather simply.

Laurance was dead, double dead, was he dead? He was finished, done for. Whatever the correct wording was.

"It was just a joke!" He defended.

Garroth took a step forward, which prompted Laurance to take a step back. The blonde grinned.

"You aren't gonna repeat? It's fairly simple."

Laurance shook his head, taking another step back when Garroth took one forward.

He was done for.

Garroth started advancing rapidly. And it wasn't long before Laurance, who matched his speed in backing up, hit the wall. He squeaked a squeak he would never admit he did to anyone. Garroth's grin widened.

Garroth's pace slowed, almost teasing in the way he took deliberately calm steps towards the shaking guard.

He grinned as he stood before Laurance- a quivering mess with a shaky smile. "So we're not gonna talk?"

Once more, Laurance shook his head. He was stubborn, screw him.

"Oh well." Garroth shrugged. "I know other ways to make you talk."

"Wait-" Before Laurance could even think of what kind of excuse he wanted to use, Garroth had already latched his hands onto his poor, poor sides.

His knees buckled and he squealed. He slid down the wall while Garroth easily followed.

"You-" He interrupted himself with his own laughter, damn his thin shirt and damn Garroth too. "Dick!"

The cursing only seemed to add coal to the fire that was Garroth's desire to chase Laurance into his giggly and frankly embarrasing doom.

Garroth moved towards his ribs, digging into them with a grin playing at his own lips as Laurance's laughter turned up a notch.

"Irene, you are such an ass!" He yelled through his giggles. Pushing at Garroth's chest and hitting weakly.

Garroth chuckled lightly, vibrating his fingers along his bottom ribs. Which prompted a snort from the man he was so ruthlessly attacking, only adding to his delight.

"What? I'm doing what you deserve. Justice, really." He grinned when the reply was another weak hit to his chest.

"You are so mean to me!" Laurance squealed out, holding onto Garroth's wrists. Just holding on, not pushing. Garroth raised an amused brow.

"Whatever you say." Garroth shrugged with a smile. He moved to target Laurance's hips.

Laurance bucked and kicked his legs around, shaking his head. "That's so bad!" He squealed.

Garroth laughed, squeezing his hips with a purpose. He rubbed the bones gently with his thumb which got him more kicks. Laurance tapping his feet hysterically against the floor.

"Man, it's been forever since i heard that laugh." Garroth grinned, almost in a nostalgic manner as Laurance giggled frantically.

"I swear on the divine, shut uhuhuhup!" Laurance tilted his head back with laughter, a blush tinting his cheeks.

"I'm not hearing an apology." Garroth hummed softly, grinning as he raised a brow.

Laurance shook his head, his giggles preventing him from getting a full sentence out in a perfect go.

"You're nohot getting ahahany!"

Garroth looked the other's squirming form up and down. He let out a long sigh before a smirk made it's way onto his face. "You sure?"

Laurance's eyes widened. "Don't you-"

Laurance didn't get to finish his sentence. A loud squeal leaving him together with a whole new octave of laughter as Garroth squeezed at his stomach.

He squealed and trashed around. The intensity making Garroth burst into his own giggle fit from the sheer ridiculousness.

"OKAY!" Laurance yelled, pushing at Garroth's chest weakly, his muscles like jelly. "I get it! I'm sohohohorry! I'm sorry!"

Garroth finally stopped at the apology. Laurance instantly slumping against the wall and panting, residual giggles still spilling from his lips.

"You... are terrible." He tittered tiredly.

Garroth gently rubbed over Laurance's sides in comfort, his own chuckles leaving him. "Yeah, yeah."

Laurance took a deep breath, sitting up after what was quite possibly the most embarrasing ordeal of his entire life. Both undead and alive.

"...But you really did lose miserably."

And really, he did it to himself.

#🐚 writing #sfw tickling community #sfw tk community #sfw tk blog #tickle fluff #tickle fic #sfw tickle fic #minecraft di*ries tickles

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mewtwoevolution · 10 months

Text

It had been a two weeks since it bloomed…

Sage watched completly still as the human was adding soil and some plant feed into a pot. They patted it down some with the divot in the middle.

Her fingers held slightly tighter to the root thick dirt of her little dicot she’d watched so closely. Eyes following thier hands reaching for it. A slow drift back away out of reach and the human tried a smile.

“It’s okay, you’ve done good but you should really plant it in a pot now. It’s getting too big for just some dirt in your hand,” they tried to speak softly as instructed to behave with the only of the mewtwo that’s considered dangerous, “It’s the pot you picked out remember? Pretty with your favorite colors?”

Sage’s tail flicked as she blinked and pulled the plant up to her chest protectively. Her fingers trembled just a bit. A small but of dirt slipping through them making the point she didn’t want to accept…

After a long quiet moment the mewtwo extended her arms to offer it over.

They smiled to her and took it very carefully in their garden gloved hands, trying to keep from shaking as they set the plant into the soil and cover the roots, “See? That wasn’t so bad?” They picked up the flower pot to offer that to the unpredictable creature.

Sage nabbed it from them hugging the flower pot and staring them down.

“Yeah I’ll be going,” they assured her and got up to get away from the clone living space with a breath of relief.

She waited until they were out of sight to look down at the now potted plant, “…change… so bad but… have to…”

•••

The clock in the hall changed its glowing numbers she didn’t understand but at the beeps she knew it’d been nearly two hours. Her tail thumped and she stared at the plant. She liked watching the tiniest movements and small growing of its stem and leaves at a speed most couldn’t notice but she also was finding tracing the cute little swirls on the pattern on the pot calming.

She finally liked the change. It was good actually.

“One should see this.” She popped up and nabbed the pot from the floor to hug it as she floated for the room at the end of the hall. Eyes sparkling in her growing excitement.

The door slid open as she rushed in.

And froze.

“One?” Sage didn’t understand, the bars on his screens weren’t right and he was more slumped. But the human writing it down didn’t do anything. The details too minute for them.

She floated up, “One? One??” He wasn’t hearing her. It was obvious to her, that the pull to her wasn’t grabbing anything, “ONE??? ONE! ONE WAKE UP!” Her psychic took her plant as she started to hit the glass trying to get his attention, “One!!!”

Someone alerted the others. Sam and Gemini the first there to pull her away from the glass before she could possibly break it. 9 arriving with Donor trying to urge the mew to calm down the mewtwo as she started a meltdown…

Sage violently threw Gemini off which sent Sam with her from their connected tail.

A clipboard and a coffee mug were thrown at Tyler and Glimmer as they came in to grab her too, “NO! GO AWAY!!! ONE! ONE HEAR ME! ONE!!!”

Donor flinched at the psychic surges. She finally gave into 9’s persuasion and used yawn on her distressed kit.

Sage was back at the glass hitting it several times before she huffed and rubbed her face, “No… No I don’t wanna… sleep… I want… One…” before slumping against it holding to the glass loosely…

Glim and Tyler went to get Gemini and Sam up and to be seen for that hard hit.

9 went to check that the human pushed away was okay and floated them onto his back to take them to get care following the others out.

Donor looked over the mess before her eyes widened and tears filled her eyes. Was… was her oldest dying? She set down next to sleeping Sage and leaned on her as she set a paw on the glass. Maybe the humans can help him now still? But… that made her heart ache. If she could sense him dying now then… he’s been actually alive the whole time…

“I’m so sorry…” tears wet her face and she gently rested her forehead on the glass, “I hope you knew I’ve loved you this whole time?…”

The pang in her heart grew heavy. He probably didn’t…

#the mewning flower #mewten crew #sage mewtwo #one mewtwo #mewtwo #mewtwo oc #ask blog #pokemon #donor mew #dr glimmer mewtwo #tyler mewtwo #sam mewtwo #gemini mewtwo

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dreamsinthewitchouse · 1 year

Note

Kayyyy! For the fic ask game, I think you write so many different genres that I would never have though of so this was super hard! How about omegaverse, kid fic or major character death?

Tejjjj, my precious! Once again I was like hmm kidfic does seem the least scandalous, but my brain decided otherwise? So, I hope you enjoy this little bit of omegaverse (!!!?) Stucky 💖💖💖

~~~

Bucky can smell the client all the way from the entrance hall; a heady bouquet of citrus and mint wrapped in a cloud of creamy vanilla.

He swallows heavily and runs a hand through his hair, trying to clear his head. Sure, he’s taking his meds, but that doesn’t make him immune to the scent of someone rapidly approaching a natural heat.

“Come in, please,” he chirps, settling back in his chair.

What the fuck.

For the briefest of moments Bucky wonders if it’s actually possible to swallow your own tongue. “How can I help you?” he eventually croaks, his hands twitching against the desk.

“Hey.” The most ridiculously beautiful man Bucky has ever seen shuffles his feet, lifting a hand to the back of his neck. “I’m here to… make an appointment, I suppose?”

“Yes. Yeah, absolutely.” Bucky nods, like an idiot. “That’s why we’re here. Please, take a seat,” he adds, gesturing towards the empty chair.

The guy slumps into the seat, folding himself down in a way someone so tall shouldn’t be able to do.

“So,” Bucky begins, busying himself with clicking open a new record. “Can you tell me something about your… situation?”

The guy laughs, a little sadly. “Is that what you call it?”

Bucky feels a twinge in his chest, his hands stilling on the keyboard.

Stop it, he tells himself. You’re a professional.

Out loud he says, “Whatever you feel comfortable with telling me is fine. If you’d rather only talk to Dr. Romanov, we’ll book you and you can go about your day. It’d just be background information she could review before your appointment.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” If possible, the guy seems to make himself even smaller. “This is all pretty, uh, new to me?”

“The cycle?” Bucky asks, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Yeah.” It comes out so quiet it’s barely audible. “I didn’t even… I thought I was—” he clears his throat, as if stalling for words. “I guess I’m what you’d call a late bloomer?”

Bucky exhales silently and turns away from the computer, looking into a pair of gut-wrenchingly blue eyes.

“Look,” he says, as softly as he can manage. “I know it’s tough, and it fucking sucks right now, but I promise you it will get better. Dr. Romanov is one of the best. You can do this.”

The guy draws a shaky breath, twisting his hands in his lap. “Are you just saying that ‘cause you don’t want me crying in your nice waiting room?”

“Clients are always welcome to cry in this room, this is a cry-friendly space.” Bucky smiles, nodding towards the screen. “So, how about we start with some basics? Like your name?”

The guy bites into his lip, his eyes cast down, but there’s the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. “Steve,” he says, relaxing into his seat. “My name’s Steve.”

#tej 💕💕💕#stucky #tumblr writing #writing asks

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callmeshakespurr · 3 years

Note

Hey, if you're requests are open could you do a Rick Flag × Male Villian Reader (fluff) idk something cute where Rick Flag ends up falling in love with Male Reader, and the feeling is mutual. Idk you can fo what you want with it. ❤

Rick Flag x Male Reader

Requested: yes

Category: fluff, just a little bit of angst

Warnings: slight torture (?), i mention a knife like,, once

Note: I haven’t watched Suicide Squad in some time, so this could’ve turned out just the tiniest bit yandere, I hope you don’t mind! Also- I kinda struggled with this cause its my first time writing an actual one shot, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways (:

Tysm for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3

“Where is he?”, Amanda Waller called out as she walked down the hallway, towards the high security room you were currently kept in — Colonal Richard ‘Rick’ Flag not far behind her.

Her call grabbed the attention of the two guards, who stood in front of your cell.

“Is he in there?”, Amanda asked again, approaching the door with fast steps. One of the guards nodded and opened the thick metal door to let the director and the colonel in.

Amanda Waller had tried to get her hands on you for almost five years now, after you first made an apperiance in a club, killing two people. After that, several assassinations followed. Nobody knew who you exactly were, what you looked like, who you worked for; you were like a shadow — what people then came to call you, Shadow.

The major reason of why nobody could get a hold of you even in the slightest bit, was because you always vanished before anybody could even spot you.

After two years of not being able to catch you, the police gave up on further investigation in your cases. Amanda didn’t break so easily though. She wanted you in one of those cells she kept so many freaks in already, and she wasn’t going to give up until she had you sitting behind one of those metal doors, unable to escape her.

After all these years of going after you, she did manage to find out two major things about you. Why you always managed to escape without anyone catching a glimpse of you, and what your weakness was.

All these things led to the present situation.

You sat in a dark room, the only light source being a small lamp, dangling from the ceiling. Your ankles were tightly cuffed to the chair you were sitting on, on your wrists and neck you felt something cold and heavy, which seemed to send small electric shocks through your body every few seconds.

You weren’t sure where you exactly were, since you passed out before they got you. Hell, you didn’t even know who ‘they’ were.

You closed your eyes, trying to concentrate on your thoughts, which was not as easy as you hoped it would be. To say that you were in pain was an understatement. The electricity flowing through your body kept you from thinking straight, and send a wave of pure pain through your limbs with every shock you got.

A female voice ripped you from your trance, and you slowly opened your eyes again, head still hanging low. You knew that voice and you knew that you didn’t stand a chance anymore.

“Your powers won’t work anymore, unless i allow you to use them, so don’t even try.”, that voice belonged to none other than Amanda Waller, probably the only person on this planet you actually feared. You were never scared of what her minions could do to you, no. You were scared of what she could do to you if she ever managed to get you — which almost happened on several occasions.

You clenched your fists, trying to ignore the pain that came over you again, as you frantically tried to somehow sort your thoughts and find a way out of this, but nothing seemed to work. There was no way out of this. There was no escaping this. The feeling of helplessness washed over you, a feeling you didn’t like at all.

“You’re Y/N L/N, you’re a teleporter, thats how you managed to always vanish before the police got to the crime scene”, Amanda spoke, watching you as you sat there on the chair, staring at the ground, unable to move a single muscle. “It took me some time, but i managed to figure out how to block your powers”, she continued, taking slow steps towards you “Teleporters are extremely sensitive to electricity, some mightve even already died due to the constant pain if they were in your place.” She stopped right in front of you, looking down at your slumped figure, the only thing restraining you from falling over being the thick metallic handcuffs that kept your hands tied behind the chair.

Amanda grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her. Your sight was blurry and it cost you a lot of strength to even keep your eyes open, but you did manage to make out the silhouette of a rather tall person standing at the entrance of the cell, watching the whole scene, before your focus was back on the woman in front of you. “You’re actually a very pretty boy, Y/N, and very smart too, it’s a shame that you decided to end up like this.”, she said, before letting your face go. “Rick, take him to get the injection, then get his things and introduce him to the team. After that, you can take him to his provided cell.”

The man standing at the door — Rick, you assumed — made his way towards you, as Waller left the room, leaving you to the colonel.

Rick helped you out of the cuffs, that kept you strapped to the chair. Looking at you, he almost felt bad, you looked so drained and helpless. He had never exactly agreed with anything Amanda Waller did, but seeing what just a few hours under her control did with you was another level of not agreeing with something she did.

“Can you stand?”, the colonel asked and you nodded, slowly rising from the chair. Your legs wobbled beneath your weight and you instinctively grabbed onto whats next to you, which just so happened to be Ricks Arm.

After making sure you had gathered enough strength, he began to walk with you towards the door.

time skip

It’s been a little over a week now since they’ve brought you here — you think. Every day was the same. Sitting on the cold floor of your cell, staring at the camera in the corner of your ceiling, some guard bringing you food, you not eating it, some guard taking it away again and reporting everything to someone, more staring at the camera, someone bringing you food again, you not eating it again, the guard taking it away again and reporting everything, all over again, everyday.

The only slightest bit good and entertaining thing was the colonel — Rick Flag, as you learned was his name — checking up on you every now and then when he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t quite understand why Rick was making efforts to look after you, just for you to not answer his questions anyways, but you appreciated it. It made everything a little more bearable.

Of course, you were one of the bad guys, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a life outside of assassinations.

When you weren’t working for other bad guys, you loved to just sit in your apartment and read, you loved to go onto high buildings and watch over the city. You dreamed of leaving everything behind and exploring the world someday. You worked at your favourite coffee shop, hell you even had a cat. The thought of your only friend being probably already dead or suffering made you sad, but what could you do about it?

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t picked the path you were on, but looking back at the time you chose to work for the bad guys, you didn’t really have a choice.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted, when you heard the door to your cell open. Hoping it would be Rick, you looked up, your eyes only half open from the lack of strength you had. What you did not expect was to see Amanda Waller standing in front of you, Rick Flag behind her.

“Stand up”, the woman demanded. You listened, as it was of no use to resist her orders. You slowly got up on your feet, which didn’t last long, since you almost immediately fell over, landing painfully hard on your knees. To your suprise, Rick immediately rushed to your side, helping you stand up again.

“I don’t need him on missions like this”, Waller spoke as she watched you lean onto Rick for support. “Take him to the base, the council and I will be waiting there in the meeting room for him.” With that, Waller left again.

The way to the car wasn’t long, but with you almost not being able to stand on you own, let alone walk on your own, it took a little longer, which only fueled your anxiety. The ride to the base was even worse though, since nobody talked and you had five guards sitting around you.

Finally arriving at the door of the meeting room, which was located in the base, the two guards standing in front of it immediately opened the door as soon as they saw the colonel.

The room was quiet at an instance, when you stepped a food inside, Rick following very close behind you — just in case something should happen.

Amanda Waller stood in front of a group of suit wearing men who all sat at one big round table, most likely discussing something. She gestured you to come next to her, to which you complied.

“And who is this now, Director Waller? A new addition to your group of- freaks?”, asked one of the men as he looked you up and down, probably doubting that someone like you could be much of an good asset.

“This, Gentlemen,”, she grabbed your arm and moved you a little forward, making you almost tumble “is Y/N L/N or ‘Shadow’, he was an assassin for almost five years now, working for several other bad guys. Nobody got a hold of him till now due to his teleporting ability. He has over a hundred confirmed kills and not once did anyone ever get near him. I’m using these electric cuffs”, she grabbed your arm again and lifted it up to present the metal cuff, which was secured around your arm “to block his powers, which means he cannot teleport, as long as the electric shocks are on full power. As soon as I turn down the power a little, he can use his power, it is more draining and limited to a certain radius, but it works. I have him under full control and I want him on the team.” Murmurs broke out between the people in the room, as soon as she finished.

“I’m sorry, director, but do you really think it’s a good idea to put another- another misfit on that team? They’re bad guys and will always stay bad guys, and their freaky abilities make them even more dangerous.”, one of the men in suits spoke.

“As I said, I have him under full control, gentlemen. Let me demonstrate.”, Amanda spoke, turning to you, as the people sitting at the table sat back.

Waller took out some kind of remote and tapped on something. First your body tensed due to all the stress and pain you were under at the moment, but as soon as Amanda tapped on the remote, the electric shocks suddenly weren’t as intense as they were before, and your whole body relaxed, your eyes almost watering due to the wave of relief washing over you.

Rick was more than tense while watched the whole situation, only realizing in how much pain you actually were when Waller turned down the intensity of the electric shocks emmitting from the metallic cuffs you were wearing.

Waller looked you in the eyes with a serious expression on her face. “You disobey, you die, got that?” And suddenly you remembered the injection they gave you, when they first brought you here.

Seeing you had no other choice than obeying her, you simply gave her a small nod and looked around the room, taking in every detail. You looked at the small table in front of you, spotting a sharp knife, which you figured was put there by Amanda specifically for you in this exact situation.

With fast movements, you grabbed the knife and teleported to the other side of the room, holding the knife to one of the mens throat. Everyone in the room stiffened even more, and you heard at least three guns clicking.

Looking up, your eyes met Rick’s, before you looked over to Waller, who was already fixated on you. You slowly pressed the knife more against the man’s throat, wanting to see what Waller was going to do. The next electric shock came and you almost yelled out in pain, letting the knife fall, teleporting back to Waller and falling to your knees, clutching the metal around your neck.

Rick wanted to rush to help you, but was quickly held back by Amanda, gesturing him to wait.

“As you can see, I can control his powers however i want to, and should he disobey in any way, or should his powers bolt”, she tilted your head with her finger, than pressed onto the spot on your neck where they injected you, “he dies.”

Still staring at the ground, you swallowed harshly. You’ve never wanted to go back in time and undo all the bad things that happened so badly like in this specific moment. Maybe if you’re parents hadn’t ever found about your ability, you would still be at home, with your family, not here, being tortured by some government lady who wanted to use you as a weapon.

“There’s one more thing. I don’t need him on any mission in this shape. He needs to recover, quickly, and while doing so, I want him under Rick Flags complete supervision. It might cost a little more effort, but think about of how much use he will be for us”, Amanda said, a mischievous expression crossing her face for a few seconds, that going unnoticed by you and pretty much everyone else in the room.

time skip

Three whole months had passed. You’ve been staying with Rick ever since Amanda Waller announced that he had to fully supervise you.

The time you spent with Rick made you feel as if everything wasn’t so bad after all. Occasional talking here and there, Rick cooking something for the both of you every now and then, you almost felt normal again — weren’t there the electric cuffs reminding you of what was real every few minutes.

Over the past three months, your sleep only got worse. You got used to the constant pain by now, but the electricity didn’t only affect you physically, it also messed up your thoughts like hell. Sometimes you didn’t know where up and down was anymore, everything was all over the place inside your mind.

That was also the reason, you were up right now, in the middle of the night, sitting at the big window in your bedroom, looking over the city. You hugged your knees tightly to your chest, and rested you chin on them, letting a few tears slip. You hadn’t cried in a long time, but you were just so exhausted. You were never this close to giving up than right now. Nothing seemed to ever be okay again, you couldn’t do anything but accept your fate.

Being to entangled in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open.

It didn’t take Rick a long time to spot you in your place at the window. He just came home from a mission that Amanda Waller had wanted you on, but Rick insisted on giving you a little more time to deal with everything.

The tall man closed the door as quietly as he could behind him, which seemed to not be quiet enough, since you jumped slightly at the noise, quickly standing up and turning around. Rick gave you an apologetic look, before slowly walking towards you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked, I just wanted to check up on you and see if you’re alright-“ “It’s fine, I’m fine”, you interrupted him, wiping your tears quickly, taking a deep breath.

Rick frowned, he had never seen you cry before. He cared too much for you and he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself. Stopping in front of you, he looked down at you, only for his eyes to meet yours. For a moment, you both got lost in each others eyes, before you ripped your gaze away, looking to the side.

“Do you want anything else from me?”, you asked shakily, getting a little nervous with his burning stare on you.

“I actually do, yes-“, he hesitated for a moment. You looked up at him with a questioning expression. “Close your eyes”, you complied, closing your eyes slightly, one hand moving to hold onto Rick’s shirt so you didn’t lose your balance. You felt him lean down slightly, till you could fell his warm breath on your cheek. You surpressed a shiver, as he carefully tilted your head.

Now, you didn’t really know what to expect; you and Rick had gotten closer but you weren’t sure, if there were actual romantic feelings, or if he just pitied you, so a kiss wasn’t exactly what you expected. But you definitely would’ve expected it more than what happened next.

A small ‘click’ echoed through the dark room, the next thing you knew was, that all the pain suddenly disappeared. Your eyes watered when you felt Rick’s fingers carefully removing the heavy metallic cuffs around your wrists and neco, pure relief washing over you. Your leaned your body onto Rick’s, unable to support your own weight for a few moments.

When you had finally gained control over your own body again, you moved back a few centimetres and looked up to Rick, who met your confused eyes. “I couldn’t bear to see you in so much pain any longer, so I triedmy best to convince her and I’d say I’m lucky that she trusts me with you.”, the colonel smiled a little, raising a hand to softly carress your cheek. Your eyes widened. He quickly removed his hand again and apologized, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Rick took a step back, still being careful so you didn’t lose balance again, “I should go, and you should sleep, you need to be well rested and-“

You were fast to interrupt him by taking a quick step towards him, getting a little on your tiptoes, before pressing a small kiss to Rick’s lips. You carefully looked him in the eyes again, “I don’t know either, but it just felt like the right thing to do.”

It took the man a few seconds to process what just happened, but when he did, he was quick to kiss you again, his soft lips over yours, moving slowly, as you kissed back. He put his hands on your waist, while you locked yours behind his neck. You kissed for a few moments, before the both of you had to breathe again. “Thank you”, you whispered against Rick’s lips, before receiving another small peck. “Sleep with me tonight?”, he asked quietly, getting lost in your eyes again. You gave him a small nod, allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his room, both of you smiling as you fell onto the mattress.

#suicide squad #rick flag #y/n #rick flag x male reader #male reader

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thefanficmonster · 4 years

Text

Let Them Talk

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female) ft. Sykkuno

Warnings: Swearing, Jealousy

Genre: Fluff, a bit of Angst

Summary: We can all agree Among Us is a fun game on its own but what makes it ten times better is playing it with the right company. Y/N could agree 100% Being a streamer herself, she loves playing with the streamer gang that includes her boyfriend and best friend. But, what happens when her boyfriend starts doubting her feelings for him due to her close relationship with her best friend.

Requested by @cheetoscat . Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, I hope the final product is worth the wait. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Y/AU/N - Your Among Us Name

I settle in my gaming chair, adjusting my webcam one last time before joining the Among Us lobby with my friends.

“Hi everyone!“ I say into the mic, a smile plastering itself on my face. Discord is a magical thing, man. It’s so easy to forget that the people you are talking to aren’t around you or within arm’s reach. You could be separated by miles and miles of land or - in our case - oceans as well. Distance becomes negligible when you hear your friends’ voices, their laughter; when you have a good time together despite being each behind a screen, often times alone.

Well, I’m one of those lucky ones that isn’t alone. No one knows that, though. Everyone thinks I’m a single, self-employed girl that’s straight out of college. And they are 90% right. Only thing is - I’m not single. That would be a shocker in and of itself, but revealing who’s changed my relationship status would be a bomb with a whole new intensity.

Speaking of my significant other who shall remain unnamed - just kidding, it’s Corpse - his form materializes in the doorway of my recording room. I give him a hand signal the camera isn’t able to capture, alerting him of the fact that my mic is on. He replies by blowing me a kiss and walking off down the hall to his recording room where he’ll be stationed for the next three or so hours.

I owe this relationship to my best friend Sykkuno. I’m a pretty new and not very well known on the platform, however, thanks to him I haven’t only obtained a boyfriend, but a following of a little over million subscribers as well.

It all started with an invitation to fill a spot in the Among Us lobby him and his friends had created. It took him quite a bit to convince me to join, but I eventually caved and agreed. Suddenly, there I was. In a Discord call, in an Among Us lobby with some of the most well-known names on this platform. I’m talking YouTube legends. I was that puppy playing with the big dogs. The newbie tagging along with the big leagues. Or at least that’s how I felt until we all started vibing - talking and teasing each other as though we’ve known each other for years and not minutes.

When I joined the call, Corpse wasn’t present. After everyone else introduced themselves, Sykkuno informed me that we were waiting for Corpse to return. The name sounded really cool to me and I was genuinely very excited to meet this Corpse guy.

And then, out of the blue - no prep, no warning...

“Did you get someone to fill the spot? Oh- Hello, Y/AU/N.“

…he started talking and he had me star-struck. Apparently, he also had me a blabbering mess cause I remember blurting out: “Whoa, who’s this guy speaking in bold and underlined at the same time?”

The entire lobby, including Corpse, laughed. Sean, or Jack like they called him most often, answered my question, “That is the voice of God, Y/N. Its source is named Corpse, though.”

Heat spread from the bottom of my neck to the tips of my ears. I was mortified by my own stupidity. I was well aware they couldn’t see me and I was incredibly thankful for that, but I simply could not get myself to open my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I said through nervous laughter.

“No, no, I like that description. Bold and underlined at the same time, huh?“ His voice sounded even more pleasant when it had that teasing, mischievous note to it. That thought popping up in my head only made things worse for my self-esteem and only made me more embarrassed, causing me to hide my face in my hands. “You sure it’s not in Italics as well?“

His question got a weak laugh out of me. “Nope, definitely not. Nothing Italic about it.“

Yes, I don’t even know how some terrible jokes about MS Word fonts got me as far as a romantic relationship, but they did! We’ve been living together for quite some time now, dating for even longer - hiding it just as long. It’s not that we have been actively trying to hide it or something, we just wanted to see how long it would take someone to become sus of us. When we realized no one would notice, we decided that if any rumors about us started, or even fans shipping us, we’d come clean. That hasn’t happened either, so we haven’t had the proper chance to address our relationship and neither of us minds.

At this point, I’m honestly afraid of revealing it to the gaming squad. Sykkuno especially. He’s my best friend, after all. I can see him being hurt by the fact that I kept a secret so big even from him. The last thing I wanna do is hurt my best friend but it’s already too late for that, it’s inevitable.

“Y/N have you looked at Twitter today?“ Rae, another streamer I’ve become close with over the months, says urgently.

Overlooking the tension in her words, I answer: “Nope, haven’t had the time. Why? What’s up?“

Before Rae can say anything else, Sykkuno joins the conversation, his voice somehow even more urgent than Rae’s. “It’s nothing, Y/N. If you see it, just don’t let it bother you, ok?”

Hearing such a tone from Rae isn’t unusual, but hearing it from Sykkuno is completely different and a lot more worrisome. “Well if it has the potential of bothering me it can’t be nothing. What’s going on?”

Just then, my phone dings with two notifications. I check to see they are messages from Rae.

“I sent you screenshots. Sorry, Sykkuno. She has to know in order to address it and defuse it as well. I know better than anyone how fast these rumors can spread, especially if no one reacts to them.“ She says, her tone barely apologetic at all.

I open the screenshots she has sent me and I find myself frozen in shock. Some old pictures of Sykkuno and I have been posted on Twitter by some random user. These pictures have started an entire thread of suspicions surrounding our relationship.

The pictures in question are from a New Year’s Eve party a mutual friend of ours held two years ago. Sure, in the pictures we are a lot closer than what would be considered a platonic proximity. And yes one of the pictures is of me kissing his cheek. Yes we were both a bit tipsy. I acknowledge all those things and yet none of them are concrete reasons for these rumors to have started piling.

“This is silly.“ I finally say after maybe five minutes of silence on my end. ”This is absolutely ridiculous! And why are people so serious about it as well? Actual, important matters get discussed more nonchalantly than the potential relationship between two online personalities! What is this world we live in?“ I know I shouldn’t let these rumors get to me like this, especially not on camera. Still, I can’t help it. I feel it’s so unfair to Corpse. He has to put up with this as well and it’s by no means easy for him. I’ve been shipped with people from our group in the past and he always took those rumors to heart despite acting like he didn’t care. Neither of us should get worked up, but him getting upset about them creates a domino effect with my emotions - causing me to be hit just as hard as him, in some cases harder.

Rumors of the past aside, this one is the worst by far. Mostly cause even Corpse himself suspected something between Sykkuno and I at the very beginning, when we were still acquaintances, barely crossing into the realm of friends.

I pull up Twitter to look for the whole thread, barely sparing my stream chat a glance in the process. It seems pretty split - those who agree with me and those who think Sykkuno and I make ‘such an adorable couple’. The thread is ridiculously long, and if we take into account that it was only started approximately five hours ago, you can either view it as impressive, amusing or sad. Why sad? Because someone has dedicated so much time and effort into fueling the fire of a weakly supported theory.

I love Sykkuno with all my heart. Everyone knows that - fandom, streamer squad, Corpse and Sykkuno included. I love too much and too platonically to ever even dream of having a romantic connection with him. I thought that was more than obvious, but people are either blind here, or just grasping at straws. One thing’s for certain - they’re stepping on a nerve.

“Hey where’s Corpse? Did he disconnect?” Felix asks, gaining my full attention. My eyes dart to the monitor, searching through the little avatars in a desperate search for the one of my boyfriend. It’s nowhere to be found.

“He just messaged me saying his connection is unstable but he might join us later.“ Rae says, “You guys can invite someone to fill...“

“Bathroom break.“ I interrupt, not waiting for a response before shutting my mic off, putting the ‘BRB‘ graphic on my stream and yanking the headset off. I basically run down the hall to Corpse’s recording room, my heart pounding like a bass drum.

“Corpse?!“ I call out to him, one hand already on the doorknob. When five seconds pass by without a response, I barge in.

Inside, I find his usual spot on the gaming chair empty and his slumped figure seated on his bed.

“Corpse?“ I try again, watching for even the tiniest change of body language. He remains still as a statue, not bothering to look up at me either.

His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, his head hanging low. His eyes are covered by the short curtain of his dark messy curls. I can’t gauge much. Is he angry? Is he sad? Both? How should I approach the situation?

Before I find the answer to any of those questions, I am kneeling in front of him, our height difference eliminated. I gently pry his hands off the mattress and take them in mine, holding them firmly but tenderly. With one hand I reach up to tilt his head so his eyes can meet mine. He complies, his tear-filled brown orbs meeting mine. Those tears have the same effect on me as fifty sharp knives stabbing into my chest. These tears focus their attack straight on my heart, tearing it to pieces.

“Baby....“

He cuts me off, “Why is it always someone else, huh? Do they deem me not worthy of being with you? Do they think you deserve better?” His voice wavers, “Well, they might be right. They are correct and there’s little I can do to prove them wrong. They mean you well, Y/N - pairing you with guys better than me. Those are some loyal fans you’ve got. They only want what’s best for you. And so do I. If ‘best’ is being with someone else then...”

It’s my turn to cut him off. I put an end to his nonsense ramble that’s slowly killing me by pressing my finger against his lips. The sternness of my gaze is beyond me as I get up and walk over to his computer setup. I put on his headset and hop into the call as well as the lobby with his avatar.

“Hey Corpse’s back!” Toast says, “Good to have you back buddy.”

“No, not Corpse.” I say in a casual, nonchalant voice.

“Wait, wha-“ Sean’s voice shows just how confused he is, representing the confusion of the entire lobby actually.

“I know all of you are streaming so this message will be heard by several different audiences so I’m gonna make myself perfectly clear.“ I take a deep breath, “Sykkuno and I aren’t dating. He’s a lovely guy and he deserves to find a girl who will treat him right. That girl isn’t and won’t be me though. I am already treating someone right. Someone who treats me more than right as well. An amazing person. A man-child with a heart of gold. You know him, to a certain extent. He goes by the name of Corpse Husband, but I prefer to call him ‘Love of my life’. Thank you for your time and attention, goodbye.“

I exit the call and turn around to find a stunned Copse looking at me.

“That was meant for you just as much.“ I say with a fake strict attitude, one hand on my hip the other rested on his desk behind me, “Were you listening?“

Within milliseconds, he’s on his feet standing directly in front of me, his lips inches away from mine. “I heard and memorized every word. But...” he pauses for a moment, “I think you have no idea how big of a chaos you just created.”

I smile mischievously, “We’ll worry about that later. For now...” I close the gap between us, connecting our lips in a sweet and passionate kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @the-fuck-up-of-today @slashersdream @chiefwombathoagiepizza @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01

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