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kookslastbutton · 8 months

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Too Late To Dream ༓ jjk (m) I Ch. VIII (final)

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 8,618

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), first kiss, painting date, taehyung makes oc a busi proposal, jk goes back to teaching at uni, cute note, therapy with therapist!hoseok, talk of absent parents, insecurities, fear of fatherhood, jk working through personal struggles and gets clarity, jk being good hubby to oc, sexual content

sexually explicit warnings: switch!jungkook, switch!reader, f*ngering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (be safe everyone!), cussing d*rty talk, penetration, b**b sucking, biting, multiple org*sms, m*ssionary;legs on shoulder, body worshipping, praise kink, impreg kink, slight lactation kink, making out in the kitchen, suggestive morning shower s*x, Kook just wanna please oc really 🥺

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: This is now the most I have ever written....ngl the therapy section will be DENSE( but i tried not to make it TOO long) 😪 anyway, we have come to the end folks 😭 thank you to all of you who have stayed with me through this whole series. It's close to my heart and always will be. I'm happy to be able to share this with you all 💞

<< ch. VII ༓┃series masterlist

Kissing you is his favorite pastime. On the lips, on your cheeks, neck–everywhere and anywhere you'll let him. He loves how squeamish it makes you. Out of all the times Jungkook's kissed you, his favorite will always be the first time in that tiny art studio of yours at your old apartment.

You didn't have much living space but you made do with what you had. And what you had was one extra room near the laundry machines.

He'll always remember how gentle your lips were against his that night. Warm as well, yet reserved. You made his whole body come to life in the most unexplainable ways.

4 years ago–

Jungkook slouches on the stool with a pout on his face and a paintbrush spinning between his fingers. This is the third time he's called you over in the last ten minutes. You've told him repeatedly that painting takes patience but it doesn't seem to make him feel any better about his artwork.

"Can you come look at this __? I don't think this is coming out the way it's supposed to be."

"Here," you set your drawing pencils on your own art desk and circle around to him, "let me see."

Jungkook scootches his stool to the side, allowing you to peer over his shoulder.

"To start, you’re using too much water if your paper is peeling and curling this much. I'd give it a few minutes before doing anything more on it. Secondly, you have water bubbles."

You reach for the blue painting sponge next to him and hold it up as if showcasing it off.

"This is going to be your best friend. It absorbs liquid so if you gently dab areas with excess water, it'll take all that water away." You demonstrate for him then hand the sponge to him. "Give it a try."

"Okay…" He takes it from you and mirrors your movements. "Isn't this called watercolor painting though? How can I be using too much water?"

You shrug. "Because it's like anything. You need to find the right balance between the paint and water or else it'll make your strokes messy. Control the need to soak your brush."

"But I like soaking my brush," he says, tongue in cheek.

"I'm going to ignore that you said that."

"You said it first."

"Not like you meant it, I didn't."

Jungkook smiles and continues dabbing his painting.

"You're pressing a little too hard Kook. The paint's smudging," you warn as he attempts to clean up the extra water spillage.

"Hm?" He doesn't seem to understand what you mean.

"It's like this," you say, carefully closing a hand over his knuckles. Jungkook's hand goes limp in yours as you guide his movements across the water bubbles. "See, the water's gone now."

When you gaze down at him, he's not paying attention to the artwork at all but to you instead.

"Someone I'm hoping to call my girlfriend soon," he mumbles back and you release your hold from his hand.

"Jungkook?" He feels you tense under his stare, eyes restlessly shifting back and forth. "What are you looking at?"

"Oh, well, um—" your mind races with what to respond. Up until now, you’ve been seeing each other for a month but no labels have been placed on your relationship yet.

"I'd really like to know what it'd be like to kiss you too.” He sets the sponge on the table and slowly leans forward to rise from his seat.

Naturally, you step backward but forget about the second art table set up directly behind you. Your hands grip the edges at the sudden contact on your backside.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I don't mean to make you feel pressured." His fingers reach out to lightly rest on your trembling hands. “I’ve just been having the best time getting to know you this past month and I’d like it if we could keep going out…as a couple.”

“I’d like that too.” You swallow thickly. “I think you caught me off guard but yeah, let’s make this official. And also, if you want, we can—kiss."

"Are you sure?" He needs to know he heard right, careful not to jump the gun. “Really sure?”

"Yes. Please kiss me.”

With your consent, Jungkook grips your hands tighter and closes his mouth over your lips. They're sweet and taste a bit like peppermint from the candy you ate earlier. He moves slowly at first, tongue swiping across the seam of your lips every now and then until you let him in.

"Jung–" you breathe a small moan yet it's only when you break apart that you're able to finish saying his name. “–Kook.”

"I liked that," he says, a smile on his face. "Any chance we can do it again?"

You nod and lean forward to kiss him again. This time firmer, holding back nothing.

Present–

"Honey, you should go back to bed for a bit. Get some more sleep." You watch your husband button up his navy blue dress shirt in the mirror. Today's the day he has to return to the university for the new academic year and he needs to be out the door within the next ten minutes.

"I have to get used to you leaving before me," you yawn. "I'll miss you."

Jungkook runs his fingers through his damp hair, fluffing it up some before striding over to your lounged position on the bed.

"Me too. I'm going to be thinking of you all day." He bends down to peck your lips. When he does, you take in the scent of his aftershave–Old Spice. "I'll see you when we get home, okay?"

You nod. "You home at 4 tonight?"

"Plus traffic so 4:30 at the latest.”

"Okay, I should get home at 5:15. Mondays are a bit hectic so it might be later. I'll text you."

He gives you another kiss, longer than the last, and you moan lazily.

"Sounds good," he stands up straight and snatches his phone from the nightstand. "I need to head out now but I'll see you later. Love you!"

Jungkook opens your bedroom door and you shut your eyes to get more sleep before having to start the daily grind yourself.

With about thirty minutes to spare Jungkook rushes to his office with his leather satchel. He doesn't remember the room being as bare as it is when he tosses the door open–only his desk, PhD, and some books left on the shelf. He hasn't been here since the end of June so granted, I'd be pretty dead in the room.

But there's not even one photo of you.

That's going to be the first thing to change, he mentally

notes. Right now, however, he needs to prep for his lecture that’s in—he checks his watch—shit.

Twenty-eight minutes.

Jungkook shoves his satchel on the bulky mahogany desk and swivels into his office chair. "Damn," he curses and re-adjusts in his seat. "Since when was my chair this uncomfortable to sit in?'

He shakes it off and pulls out his notes. A tiny blue sticky note falls out as he sorts the mix.

'Deep breaths today Dr. Jeon ;)! It's your first day again and I know you're always so hard on yourself :( But your new students will love you I'm sure. So keep yourself in good spirits and remember I'm only a phone call away. I love you and I can't wait to hear about your day when you get home tonight! <3'

He reads the message again, then again, and one last time for good measure.

Jungkook sticks the note on the surface of his desk, next to his computer where he can view it easily. He then goes back to reviewing his notes for his lecture, feeling a giggle creep up his throat; he really fricken' loves you.

Well, his first class of the day was a complete disaster. The first twenty minutes consisted of him having to troubleshoot technical errors between his laptop and the projector. His students weren’t chipper either, preferring silence when he tried striking up a conversation. And the worst part? They didn’t laugh at his jokes! Like at all. Usually, he’d at least get one or two chuckles, even if they were merely out of politeness.

It was when he ended the class half an hour early that he earned a few brownie points. Thankfully he’s not a lecture on the first day kind of professor. Still, with any luck, the semester will get better and the remainder of his sections today will be smoother.

"Dr. Jeon," a low voice rumbles down the hallway as Jungkook returns to his office. He whips his head to his left to see Taehyung taking long strides towards him.

"Dr. Kim," Jungkook responds to the greeting. "What are you doing in the School of Business?"

"Just wanted to stop and say hi. I got a studio art class to teach soon but thought I'd check in with my favorite economist first.” Taehyung stuffs his hands in the pockets of his silk trousers and follows Jungkook into his office.

"My wife isn't here Tae," Jungkook teases.

“Isn’t it about time you drop that? Yes, we had a thing back in—"

"It wasn't a thing okay?" Jungkook is eager to correct. Being reminded that his wife and best friend used to hit it off a little too well back in the day makes him queasy. "It was you who kept being obsessed with her. Well, she's mine now. Understand?"

Taehyung laughs. "You need to chill Jungkook. I see the wedding ring loud and clear. Besides, I didn't come here for her alright?" He pauses and wets his lips. "Well actually…there is something I'd like to bring up to you that may involve her."

"Oh, what?" Jungkook's ears are on high alert. What could Taehyung possibly need from you?

"How often is __ painting these days?" Taehyung takes a seat in one of the spare chairs in the room.

"She doesn't have as much time these days due to work, but I know she's got a couple of art projects in the process."

"She's got a pretty big collection though, doesn’t she? Has she ever considered showcasing them off at galleries or selling to collectors?”

“Yeah, I’d say she has roughly eighty finished pieces between drawings and paintings. But she's tried the gallery route before and they've all rejected her work from being showcased. I don't think she wants to pursue it anymore. And as far as selling? Don't think so."

"Hmm." Taehyung taps his fingers on the armrest. "What if it were to be my art gallery? Over the summer I managed to form a minor partnership with that local gallery downtown. Remember, the one I displayed work at years ago when __ was in postgrad? Took a visit down there weeks ago and found out the owner is running low on funds. He's had my art displayed for a while now and I've always wanted to own a gallery. I've no shortage of assets either so I'm taking the plunge to keep it open.”

Jungkook quirks his head to the side with an open mouth and eyes wide as saucers. “You're really part owner of that gallery now? Wow, Tae. I always knew you were a free spirit but damn that's an investment."

"I guess, but hey now that you know. We're looking to expand our collection so how would your cute wife like to show her work? __ is a phenomenal artist and it’s a shame she hasn’t had the opportunity to have it publicly admired. I’d see that her work be approved immediately, of course."

“You're joking,” Jungkook sputters in disbelief. He can't speak for you but he's pretty darn sure you’re going to be absolutely tickled about this.

"I'm being completely serious. Talk to __ about it and see what she thinks." Taehyung checks the time on his phone and stands up from his chair. "Hate to cut this short but I got that class in ten. Let me know what she decides though."

"Yeah, I'll ask her. I—thank you Taehyung. I'm not sure what else to say."

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m happy to do this for her. For you both actually.” Taehyung leaves with a tight-lipped smile, a pep in his step.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Hobi: Hey, sorry for the late reply. Had a couple of last-minute patients to see. I’m happy to hear from you though! If you want to come in for a session I have a slot free late Thursday evening. Other than that we may need to do it next week since I have a pretty full schedule this week.

Oh, that’s right. Jungkook reads over the text. He messaged Hoseok about possibly coming in for a therapy session last night. After telling you about both his apprehension and interest in starting a family, he thinks it is best to get some professional input. And what better person to ask than one of his long-time friends?

JK: I’d really like to meet before I get loaded with papers and tests to grade, if possible. How late on Thursday? I get out of work at 4.

Hobi: I understand. Can you come right after work? Sessions last around forty minutes to an hour.

JK: Sure, I don’t think I have anything to do after that. __ will still be at work. She knows I’m seeing you too, so it’s fine. I’ll see you at 4:15-ish. Your practice isn’t far from here last I remember.

Hobi: Yup, short drive. I’ll put you on the calendar for Thursday afternoon. I’m glad you reached out, Jungkook. I’ve been thinking about you and __ lately. Heard you babysat Yoongi’s twins.

JK: We did.

Hobi: And how was that?

JK: Not bad. I’ll tell you tomorrow though. I’m prepping for another class right now.

Hobi: Got it, I’ll let you go. I’ll see you on Thursday.

JK: Thanks, man!

Jungkook sends a thumbs-up emoji and sets the phone flat on his desk. Well, he sighs, looks like you got yourself an appointment with a shrink.

He doesn’t know what to expect. But what he does know is that he needs to go in with an open mindset. Previous conversations with Hoseok have led him to conclude that it matters what you put into it.

“Therapy isn’t an answer to all your problems,” he recalls Hoseok explain years ago. “Its purpose is to create a space for you to process struggles in your life; triggers even. The goal is for you to better understand the root of those triggers and to find new tools that help you navigate through them. Whenever you are posed with said challenge, you can be better equipped to confront them so you can come out stronger on the other side.”

Jungkook takes a swig of water from his water bottle. He thinks of you as he does–he’s doing this for both of you in hopes that something beautiful might come from it.

At 3:15 Jungkook has his last class. His afternoon students ended up being far more engaging than his morning students. They talked to him casually, asked good questions, and gosh darn it they laughed at his jokes too. They were a great bunch of kids, Jungkook hums. He’s looking forward to walking alongside them this semester.

Before calling it a day and leaving the university, Jungkook decides a brief stroll around campus would be nice. One, it gets fresh air in his lungs and two, he’d really like to stretch his legs before sitting back down in his car.

As he walks through the middle of campus, he smiles at the groups of students rushing with their book bags. It’s a good mix between undergrads and grads. Seeing all of them rush around takes him back to his days of late-night studying at the library and partying with friends on the weekends. He tried not to party too rough but well, he might have been a little too eager to finally be on his own the first year.

He dated around a little too. The chicks at his undergrad were cute and he went out with a few of them. His longest relationship lasted a year but she broke it off with him the last year–she married an architect a year and a half later. No matter though, Sana was a sweet girl and nothing drastic ever happened between them. Hearing that she was getting married made him more happy than sad because she deserved to be with someone great. Plus, if he stayed with her, he would never have met you.

Jungkook stops in his tracks when he spots two students from his 12:15 class standing behind a small outdoor table. They appear to be selling something he can’t quite make out due to the distance.

“Dr. Jeon!” The girl waves when she catches her professor looking in their direction.

Jungkook walks up to the table with a smile. “Mi-suk, Doyun,” he greets each individually. It’s at this point that he’s able to see a dozen frames of sea glass art spread across the table. “Did you guys make these?”

The pair nod in unison. “We went to the beach this summer and found a lot of glass so we decided to do something with it.” Doyun, Mi-suk’s boyfriend, holds up one of the framed pieces that are decorated with green and blue sea glass. “This one is about lovebirds. See the heart that connects them?”

The birds that he refers to are easily seen from the sea glass’s sharp edges and carefully selected clustering. The heart is also made out of sea glass and lays between both birds. It’s a simplistic yet meaningful design.

“We wanted the heart to be interpreted in all kinds of ways from love to new beginnings like–“

“A child.” Jungkook takes the words out of Mi-suk, in a low whisper. “How much?” He digs out his wallet from his back pocket.

“33000 won. ($25 USD).” Doyun responds. “Do you have a child on the way?” Mi-suk jabs her boyfriend in the side at this.

“You don’t have to tell us Dr. Jeon. We don’t want to be nosy.” She laughs it out but Jungkook shakes his head at her.

“It’s no big deal. I’m married but we don’t have a kid at the moment. My wife loves art and she loves sea glass so, I’d like to hang one of these in our home.” He hands over the cash and takes the artwork from Doyun.

“Thank you, Dr. Jeon,” Doyun remains polite and puts the money in the cash box.

“Do you have a picture of her?” Mi-suk asks to which her boyfriend says “Now who’s being nosy?”, earning him another jab to his side.

Jungkook pulls out a small, lightly crinkled photo of you from his wallet. “This is her.” He shows it to them with a proud expression–he enjoys showing you off every chance he gets.

“She’s so beautiful Dr. Jeon! You both look so good together wow.”

“She makes us look good together.” Jungkook chuckles and slides the photo back into his wallet.

“Aww, why don’t you ever say things like that?” Mi-suk turns to her boyfriend who only shrugs.

“Why do I have to be the one to say it? Why can’t you say it?” Doyun moves to fold his arms but Jungkook gives a grimace, hinting him not to follow through. “Sorry babe, I’ll do it more often.”

Young love, Jungkook thinks. “I have to get going now, making dinner before she gets home. But thanks for the sea glass art. I’ll see you both in class on Wednesday.” He waves goodbye and heads for his car.

“He makes dinner for her too…” Mi-suk watches as her professor leaves. “You’ve never made dinner for me.” She shifts her eyes to her boyfriend who’s too busy counting the money they’ve earned so far to see her distraught face.

“Where did you get that?” You point at the new art piece hanging from the wall with your chopsticks. “It’s lovely. Are those birds?”

“Yeah, they’re love birds. A couple of my students were selling seaglass art in the middle of campus. I thought one would look nice on our wall and you like this type of art right?” Your husband takes a bite of the roasted chicken he’s made.

“I do,” you say. “Thank you for bringing one home. How was your first day back at the university?”

“Fine, my morning class is struggling but I’m hoping the energy will pick up as the semester progresses. The afternoon class is good, they seem like a fun bunch. Looking forward to the year. What about you? How was work?”

“Oh, nothing much to tell. I had a meeting with one of our business partners. Went over a series of analytical reports with him, and made suggestions on what they could do to make better-informed business decisions.”

“Yeah? Did they sound like they’d take them?” You giggle when some of the sauce from the chicken smears the corner of his mouth. “What?” he looks at you for an answer.

“Wipe your mouth. There’s sauce all over it.” You hand him a napkin and he cleans himself off. “But back to your question, they seemed receptive to my advice. We’ll see what happens in the next three months though, time will tell if they listened or not.”

“Well,” he swallows down his bite before continuing. “If they have any sense they’ll follow your suggestions. Still, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.”

You nod in agreement. “So, did anything else happen for you today? I really don’t have much else to share other than that. It was a fairly normal day.”

Jungkook sets his chopsticks on his plate and takes a drink of his beer. “There’s a few things I need to talk to you about. Oh, also,” he interrupts his own line of thought, “the note you left me was sweet. I have it on my desk by my computer.”

“I thought maybe you could use some encouragement on your first day so you’re welcome. What do you need to talk to me about?”

“First on the agenda is Taehyung. He stopped by my office and told me that he’s got a partnership with that gallery downtown. The one he displayed his work at years ago when you were in postgrad. Turns out the owner needs financial support so he’s decided to help them out as a part-owner.”

Jungkook sees that you’re just as surprised as he was when he first heard the news. “So he owns that gallery now? That man gets around well. You know that’s something about Taehyung, he’s a good networker. Never have to worry about if he knows someone or not.”

“It’s one of his strengths for sure. Taehyung’s asked me to ask you if you’d be interested in showcasing some of your artwork. He says they’re looking for more artists for their gallery and that he’d like to have your work displayed. What do you think?”

“I–what?” Getting to showcase your art has been one of your biggest dreams since a teenager. But after countless failed attempts to take your art beyond the studio, you’ve nearly given up hope that any galley would accept your pieces. “Are you shitting me Jungkook?”

“I know it’s shocking. Taehyung literally just dropped the bomb on me today and this is 100% real. If you want to get your art out there, Taehyung can pull the right strings to make that happen. Now that I think of it, he didn’t tell me when to get back to him. Probably will need to text him whenever you make your decision I guess.”

“I think I’d love to be able to do that. I don’t even know which ones to show though, I have so many to choose from.”

“I’m sure if you take a week to think it over you’ll be able to narrow down your options. And besides, this doesn’t have tp be the only set of paintings you show off. You can always switch them out from time to time. Taehyung will see that it happens.”

“Damn,” you say. “Kim Taehyung really has the whole world in the palm of his hand huh?” That man has more power in his little toe than all the world’s leaders combined.

“Taehyung is…one of a kind.” Jungkook leans his body forward, arms crossed on the dining table. “There’s a second topic I’d like to talk about too if it’s alright?”

“Shoot.”

“I have a therapy session with Hoseok on Thursday after work. I should be able to get back before 5 p.m. but we might want to order out for dinner that night.” There’s a trace of nervousness as he tells you so you reach out to sneak a hand into one of his.

“That’s fine, I can pick something up on my way home from work. I’m glad he was able to get you in this week.”

Jungkook flickers his eyes down at your hand in his, then back up to your face.“It probably goes without saying but I’m not sure what’ll come from this session. And even if it does go well, I can’t promise that we can start a baby right away. I mean maybe we can, I’m not saying we can’t but–”

“It’s okay Kookie,” you say gently. “This isn’t only about us having a baby or not you know? You’ve had a lot of challenges with your parents that I think Hoseok can help you talk through. I want you to be able to have clarity in those areas of your life too.”

“Thank you __. I love you so much.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it.

“I’m glad you wiped your mouth off before you did that,” you tease, playfully. Jungkook immediately lets go of your hand and gets up to walk to your side of the table.

“Come here smart ass,” he orders, grabbing your face to pepper several kisses on your cheeks.

Draining.

That’s the one word that comes to Jungkook’s mind if he were to sum up the rest of the week. He enjoys teaching at the university but four days in he’s already feeling the stress kinks in his neck.

“Mm.” Jungkook rolls his shoulders back to stretch the tense muscles–it’s a good thing he’s seeing Hoseok today. After getting a good stretch out, he puts his car key in the ignition and heads for the practice downtown.

"Come in, come in," Hoseok greets Jungkook with a beaming smile once he arrives at his office no short of ten minutes later. His room is on the smaller side but it has a harmonious energy with the way the sun peaks through the blinds. "How's your week been?"

Jungkook takes a seat in the large, cozy chair angled across Hoseok. He leans against the back lazily and lets out a long sigh. "It's alright, tiring, but it's to be expected. You?"

"Roughly the same.” Hoseok shuts the door and takes a seat in the chair diagonal to Jungkook. “I’ve had more patients this week than usual which has made me short on time lately. But I'm happy to make time for them."

"Thank you for seeing me this week. I was surprised when you said you could given how full your schedule gets.”

Hoseok waves his hand in dismissal. “Oh, of course, it’s no problem,” he reassures. “I had an opening so that’s why I offered. You and __ are also good friends of mind; I’m more than willing to meet with you today Jungkook. So…why don’t we get started? How was taking care of Yoongi’s rambunctious twins? You’ve taken care of them before right?”

At this, Jungkook sits straight up in his seat, his shoulders back and eyes directly trained on Hoseok. He appears stiff like the tin man from The Wizard of Oz. “Feel free to sit back,” Hoseok lightly suggests. “This isn’t a test or anything so you can relax and get comfortable if you’d like.”

“Okay.” Jungkook follows his friend’s suggestion and sinks into the back of the chair. His hands relax on his spread-out thighs. “So yeah, we’ve taken care of Yoongi’s girl before. Ari and Eun-ji have no shortage of attitude that’s for sure.” He chuckles, then continues. “They’re sweet though. I had this warm, positive energy throughout that whole night. Usually, I never have a strong feeling towards being around kids. It’s always been ‘ah they’re cute but not for me’ or ‘yes hyung, I’ll be fine to take them for a day’ but it wouldn’t go any further. I told __ about it and I think she’s holding onto hope that it means I’m changing my mind about kids.”

“And are you changing your mind? Sometimes those strong emotions will come at specific moments and they can give a false narrative. You and __ have been thinking about a baby recently which may influence these new feelings. But we have to be careful that they don’t blur what you actually want.” Hoseok pauses a second to let Jungkook maul over his words.

“It’s like this,” he continues. “You want to have a baby with her because you love her but last time we met, you said you weren’t sure if you could want it naturally for yourself. Now that you know what the other wants, and you’ve had a picture of what having kids may look like with the twins, you are more welcoming of the idea of starting a family. ‘Maybe it won’t be so bad’, your mind will tell you–‘Maybe this can really happen and I’ll be okay with it’. Meanwhile, your subconscious will say the complete opposite–that you’re pressuring yourself to feel a certain way to get that ideal outcome of giving your wife a baby. Which in turn, makes her happy and gives you security in your marriage and in yourself. I’m not saying this is exactly what’s going on but it’s a possibility to consider. Does this make sense?”

“I get what you’re saying.” Jungkook gives a brief nod. “I’m trying to be careful not to go by my feelings alone or say yes to a child out of pure tolerance of it or a willingness to please my wife. I’ve had some minor hiccups with saying we can have a baby at random times to __ . It’s caused her confusion so I’m more careful to not do stuff like that so casually. But I really am thinking about potentially starting a family so I think my mind really is changing. It’s like I’m 60% there but 40% not there.”

“60% there and 40% not there,” Hoseok repeats. “Could you break those down for me? How did you come to those percentages?”

“Well, I’m 60% because after giving it a lot of thought, I don’t dislike kids so I’m open to having them, any children I’ve been around recently have oddly uplifted my spirits, and I love my wife so if there’s anyone I could have a family with, it’d be with her. I’m 40% not there because I’m afraid I’ll revert back to my previous mindset if said child were to come. I don’t know if I can trust myself.”

“There seems to be a small pattern forming–you being uplifted around children,” Hoseok replies. “Patterns of behavior can be a measurement of progress or lack thereof. If you’ve been repeatedly uplifted around kids that’s something to think about as you sort through the matter of starting a family with __. You can trust yourself more in the conclusions you come to when there is repeated behavior and action to support them. Now as far as you being afraid you’ll revert back to your old self, why did that old Jungkook not want children? Was it a lack of interest in itself or were there external influences?”

“Uh, I guess I wanted to live a life focused on my career. My parents have done the same, but I wanted to do it separately from them. Growing up was always about meeting goals, whether they were academically or socially based. My parents were pretty absent from my life outside those frames. I couldn’t know them up close, like a healthy parent-child relationship. So when I grew up the thought of having children disinterested me. I’m happy for people who have kids but I didn’t see myself in a parenting role myself. I wasn’t fit for it either, so why have a child that I can’t properly take care of? I’d do better focusing on my career and maybe having a partner when the time came. That was my mindset.”

“It starts as disinterest and shifts to inadequacy,” Hoseok thinks a moment as he processes the explanation. The wheels turn in his head as he sorts through the information disclosed to him. “Jungkook,” he slowly starts. “Do you see yourself as naturally insecure? It seems like this different life you are describing works well for you and you’re comfortable with it, partly due to how you were raised. So the thought of something new coming into your life, like a baby, risks flipping your life upside down. You’re in turn, left vulnerable and scrabbling for what the proper course of action is. This leads to my next question–do you have a fear of becoming like your parents?”

“I suppose I do, but I never put that much weight into it before because I always thought I’d do better than them. And for the most part, I have. When it comes to raising a child though, the potential of following their lead still frightens me.”

“Given the environment you grew up in, that's completely understandable. Unfortunately, your parents didn’t raise you as a child but more of an employee or predecessor that only adds to their self-value. If it’s any encouragement, you being aware that they raised you poorly and successfully becoming a person that doesn’t embody their harmful traits means you will likely not end up like them. So you can be at ease, Jungkook. You’ll raise your children with a healthy mindset–separate from your parents.”

“Just to clarify, hyun–Dr. Jung, you’re saying that I've been against having a child because I’m worried I’ll lose my comfortable lifestyle; my security in other words. And because I’m scared to become my parents which shouldn’t be a fear because I know what they did was wrong?” Jungkook struggles to wrap his mind around the logic.

“It’s alright that you still have that apprehension Jungkook, the fear of following in your parent’s footsteps. I’m suggesting that it won’t happen because you’ve become a person who actively repulses those poor choices that they’ve made. So if you were to have a child, the chances of them being raised as you were is significantly low. Also, you wouldn’t be raising the child alone. __ will be there with you every step of the way and all of us who have been your friends for ages will be more than willing to help you too. Yoongi and Seokjin been fathers for years so they’ll be the first ones to offer a proper hand.”

“So wait, does this mean I’m ready to be a parent then? Because I see your point and it’s starting to make sense. I think I am leaning towards being one but I'm unsure if I can have a child right away. __ won’t say it but I think she’ll want to get pregnant fairly soon if I agree to having a baby. I don’t want to disappoint her.”

“It’s still up to you to decide if you’re ready or not, Jungkook.” Hosoek clears his throat, leaning forward in his chair. “Here’s what I’m saying. Your aversion to having kids doesn’t seem like a mere disinterest in kids. It’s more of an insecurity in yourself that you can work through with some help. Plus, part of you wants a child because you’ve had positive experiences with them recently. I believe, with all the factors we've discussed, you will be able to better understand the source of your hesitation and openness toward starting a family. This will help you make a clearer decision on the matter instead of holding yourself back from one based on previous misconceptions–”

“So that’s it then,” Jungkook interrupts as if enlightened. “I actually do want a baby, generally speaking. I’ve just been looking at the whole issue the wrong way, holding myself back and such.”

“Uh okay, slow down there,” Hoseok eases. “You don’t have to make the decision to have a baby right away. I’m glad you’re beginning to understand your situation more but for now, let’s talk more about this subject okay?”

Jungkook nods in agreement and continues his session with Hoseok for another half hour. He feels good by the end, so good that he schedules another meeting with him next week.

And yeah, he thinks he really does want that baby. When he gets home he’s going to wrap you in his arms and tell you all about it.

Jungkook finds you on the living room couch when he gets home. Your legs are tucked underneath you as you scroll on your phone. You're out of your work clothes and have a plain t-shirt and shorts on instead.

"Hey," you greet your husband. "How was it?"

Your husband rushes to sit beside you, the cushion bouncing due to his eagerness. He proceeds to tell you everything that Hoseok said, from his inner struggles with his parents to his own insecurities with fatherhood. By the end of his spiel, you're delighted that your husband's gotten helpful insight but are in utter shock as well.

"I–wow I'm blown away at how good seeing Hosoek was for you. I knew he'd help you a ton being who he is but I wasn't expecting you to be this enthusiastic to talk about babies." You let out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, nothing's funny. I need a minute to process everything, that's all."

You head to the kitchen for a glass of water. Jungkook follows behind you.

"You know...we met at a time that a child wasn't really in the cards, but now we're at a place that I think it could work," he says. "Hoseok helped me understand my hesitation and openness towards starting a family. And by the end, the thought of having a baby excited me more than scared me because we'll be doing it together."

"Are you–Junkook, are you really serious about all this?" You lean against the kitchen counter with a glass in your hand. "This a big step for us and I don't want you to have to make a quick decision. I know it was me who brought up having a family first, so it's no problem if we need to take more time to–"

"I want to do this with you __." Jungkook walks over to you and takes the cup from your hand to set it on the countertop. He then folds his hands over yours. "Nothing would make me happier than having a baby together. You still want to, don't you?"

"I do," you swallow hard and stare into his loving eyes. A small smile creeps on your face when the reality of the situation hits you–you're actually going through with this; you're going to start a family.

"So..." Jungkook drawls, inching his body closer to you.

"So, what?"

"So don't take your birth control tomorrow if you don't want to." He drops your hands at that in favor of cupping your cheeks instead, bringing you into a passionate kiss. You moan when the kiss deepens and you feel his muscular body press you further against the counter.

"Not in the kitchen," you mumble between kisses.

"Could be fun though," Jungkook smirks and brings his hands around your waist, lifting you up on the surface. Experience tells you to wrap your arms and legs around him so you do. And when he goes back for another kiss, he makes sure to bite on your bottom lip so he can slip his tongue in your mouth.

"Mhph–" you moan when his hands slip underneath your shirt, dragging it up until you lift your arms for him to take it off. He moves to your neck next, placing several open-mouth kisses on the delicate skin that is sure to turn into bluish-purple hickeys in the morning. "Jungkook," you tug his hair roughly.

Your husband grunts at the gesture and traces his fingers along your bare skin until they find the delicate band of your bra. He unclasps the material in seconds, leaving your nipples pebbling from the cool air.

"Is it too soon for me to say I can't wait until these are lactating?" He cups the swell of your breasts and circles his thumbs over your hardened buds. You mewl at the touch, arousal already collecting between your thighs.

"They'll be for the baby," you reply. "Not you."

Jungkook growls immediately and brings his mouth over a breast. The relentless sucking and licking makes you throw your head back in pleasure. He moves to your other breast after his teeth tug at your nipple a few times, repeating the process all over again. "Fuck–" you yelp when one of his tugs gets a little too harsh.

"Shit, I'm sorry baby." He draws his teeth back and starts licking the bud soothingly. "Feel better?"

"Mm," you whine. "Need more, please."

Jungkook knows exactly what you're asking for so he gives your nipples one last lick each, then pecks your lips. His sturdy arms lift you off the counter next and carries you into the bedroom where he lays you on the bed.

"Just a second," he says. You nod and watch him yank his shirt over his head, revealing his toned body. It's always sexy to see him taking his clothes off like this, you think to yourself. He removes his pants; leaving his briefs on, then climbs on the bed with you. "You're so effortlessly beautiful you know that? I'm gonna make you feel good tonight baby," he promises and plants gentle kisses down your abdomen.

You raise your butt a little when he starts peeling your shorts and underwear off. "Fuck, I didn't know you could get this wet," he comments, spreading your thighs apart so he can comfortably sit between them. A single finger drags up your slit, a moment after and you buck your hips at the suddenness. "How many fingers do you want? Or do you want to skip to my tongue eating you out? I'll do whatever you tell me, baby."

You moan hearing the last part. Jungkook is always quick to please. "Both, please. Your fingers and mouth," you say, gripping the sheets in preparation.

At your word, Jungkook slowly pushes a finger into your wet pussy. The initial squelch gives both of you pleasure; a shiver runs down your spine and Jungkook's underwear tightens.

"Oh god," you moan when a second finger slides next to the first one, both curling inside you just right. "One more, need one more." Jungkook pumps his fingers into you two more times, then adds a third.

"Like it?" he asks, fingers moving faster in you. "Feeling good?"

"Yes, fuck–keep going Kook."

Jungkook continues pumping his finger inside you, carefully watching you bite your lip as he does. He loves seeing you like this–getting so fucked out over his fingers. "Shit–" he grunts and leans his head between your thighs when he sees some of your pearly white liquid drip down your thighs and onto the bed sheets.

"Fuckfuckfuck," you repeat, nearly breathless as your husband starts licking a long stripe across your sex. He removes his fingers before doing it again, allowing him to dip the tip of his tongue into your folds ever so slightly. "I think I'm about to come," you warn and claw at his luscious hair with one hand.

Jungkook takes this as the perfect time to start sucking your clit, biting it teasingly until you finally have your first orgasm of the night. When he lifts his head from your pussy, his mouth and chin are both glistening with your cum. "I love eating you out," he says, using his arm to wipe his mouth and chin, "You always taste like fucking candy. And you have no idea how turns on it makes me to see you enjoying it just as much."

"I'm pretty sure I can take a good guess," you reply, eyeing his obvious erection. "Want me to suck you off?" You move to slide the band of his briefs down but he stops the movement.

"Not tonight baby," he says. "I really just want to fuck you now."

"You sure?" you ask again but he only gets off the bed and removes his underwear. His hard cock smacks against his abdomen when he does, making your pussy clench around nothing.

"Missionary?" Jungkook crawls back on the bed and guides you on your back before throwing your legs over his shoulder. "Heard this angle is good for making babies." He winks and you laugh at his sudden playfulness.

"Kook, you know it'll be a few months before I'll be able to get pregnant right? Since I've been on birth control for years?"

"Well, I guess we're getting a head start then." Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at you flirtatiously then slowly sinks the tips of his length into your pussy until bottoming out.

"Oh fuck," you both moan in unison at the familiar stretch. You and Jungkook have had a lot of sex over the years but not like this; this is a whole new experience.

"You're gonna make such a pretty mama," he coos, slowly thrusting his cock in and out of you. You feel the pressure in your core start to build at the simple comment. "You want me to make you round with our child don't you?"

"Yes–please, I want it so bad."

"My poor baby." Jungkook quickens his pace, pulling his cock out before slamming back in. Every thrust is rougher than the last, leaving you in a moaning mess as your body bounces up and down on the mattresses. "Gonna give you as many as you want now okay? Gonna fill this pussy up so good."

"Kook!" You scream and clench uncontrollably around him as he continues fucking you at what you can only call an animalistic pace. His hair is messy, body sweating, and his teeth are clamped together in sheer pleasure.

"Fuck!" He lets out another loud groan, his tatted hand clinging onto your legs while the other presses down on your stomach. "Look at you taking me so well," he praises. "Always so good for me or do you really want a baby that bad hm? Talk to me baby, tell me how it feels having your guts rearranged."

"It–" you can barely speak as his cock beats into you messily, his balls slapping against your asscheeks as he does. "It feels so good, shit! Don't stop!" You claw the sheets, desperate to cling onto something.

"Yeah? You want me to keep fucking you like this?" He pushes down on your stomach a little more. The added pressure makes it so you can feel his cock even more.

"Oh god, oh god fuck–" your eyes roll to the back of your head as your pussy starts spasming from all the thrusting. "So close, I'm so close Jungkook..."

"I can tell baby," he grunts. "You're squeezing me so tight but you're also so fucking wet. Come whenever you're ready okay? I'm going get us both there."

The next thirty seconds to a minute consists of Jungkook snapping his hips and several of your broken moans echoing off the walls of your bedroom. Finally, after a series of long, hard thrusts, you both reach your peak and have your release.

"I love you so much," Jungkook lets go of your legs and moves to straddle you. His elbows come up on either side of your head as he leans in for a kiss.

"I love you too," you mumble and card your fingers through his hair. "You're going to make a wonderful father Kook."

"Only because of you," he whispers before capturing your lips in simultaneously the most fiery and sweet kiss you've ever shared.

"What time is it?" You lazily throw an arm around your husband but to your dissatisfaction, it slips off him and hits the mattress instead. He's getting up for work–crap.

"It's 5:30 a.m," Jungkook replies and stands up from the bed, back muscles flexing as he does. He's still naked from last night and so are you now that you think about it. "I need to hop in the shower for work."

You reach forward to catch his wrist before he can move any further. "Let me join you."

Jungkook smiles. You're so beautiful with the way the soft sheets wrap around your bare skin. And your grip on his wrist makes him wish he could crawl back in bed with you.

"As wonderful as that sounds, we both know what'll happen if you jump in the shower with me. And we don't have enough time for that today. Sleep instead, okay?" He gives you a quick kiss and heads for the bathroom.

"Kook–" You kick the covers off your body and follow him.

"What are you doing?" he turns his head in your direction when he feels a cool breeze coming from the door.

"I need to shower too," you say and step behind him in the tub.

"Alright," he narrows his eyes at you. "I'll allow it but behave." When he turns on the hot water you grab your bodywash from the shelf.

"Mhm," you hum. "I definitely will."

You definitely did not. Which is why your husband is about to be late to his lecture with potential hickeys on his neck. You tried to be careful not to put them anywhere visible though—the kids don't need to see that.

"I gotta leave honey," he kisses you by the front door, keys jingling in his hand. "Bye," another kiss. "Yup bye…okay I love you but if I can't get fired by not showing up to class."

You give him one last smooch before reluctantly letting him go. "Oh wait, your collar." You smooth the fabric down for him when you see the crinkles. Jungkook likes it when you groom him like this, it's cute.

"Thanks," he says. "Love you!"

Once he's out of sight you shut the door behind him and walk back to your bedroom.

oh god.

You immediately stand still when you feel a sudden throbbing in your head. You place a hand over your stomach and close your eyes in hopes it'll pass.

"I think I need some water," you say. "I'm so nauseous. This has to be a dizzy spell. No way I'm pregnant after one night of being off my birth control." You dismiss the idea at the mere thought. "It's too soon."

Despite your protests, you decide to pick up a pregnancy test on your way home from work—just to be sure.

"Negative," you read the results of the test later that night. Outside the bathroom, you hear your husband rustling about in the bedroom. "Well, we'll just keep trying."

You smile, anticipating the start of your new life with Jungkook.

A/N: What do you think of the ending? I know oc is negative for pregnancy but she just got off bc so it'll take a few months. Still, they will keep trying ;) stayed tuned for an epilogue and hit me up with drabble ideas, as I will be writing more myself haha. Love You!! 😘

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m4ng0juic3 · 5 months

Text

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

-Winnie The Pooh

The last few days have been pretty hard for Martin. He can’t even climb up to bed with me anymore, so I sleep next to him on a mat on the floor. He needs help cleaning up after himself, and eating. I would leave Martin home alone frequently when he wasn’t sick, but he never caused trouble when I left him. When Martin was still healthy he would rush to the door, tail up high, and straight, ready to greet me when I came home. He would meow, and meow, rubbing his body back and forth on my legs telling me all about his day, and I would do the same. I lived alone, and my parents weren’t really in the picture, so he was who I would confide in. Martin would sit there quietly, and I imagine he was listening to every word I said. I mean, I guess he didn’t really have a choice. I was his only companion after all. I’ve taken some time off work during these last few days, so I can be with him, and take care of him, and when I’m at school, all I can do is worry for the next few hours before getting home. When I walk through the door it's quiet, he doesn’t come to greet me anymore simply because he can’t. Usually he’ll be on the mat that we’ve been sleeping on in my room. When I open my door, and he notices that I’m home he’ll gently turn his head towards me, and let out a weak meow.

Tomorrow morning I’ll be taking Martin into the vet for his final appointment. I make sure to give him some tuna and cheese, his favourites, for dinner. He wasn’t able to eat much, but it was more than his usual amount these days. I put him to bed a few hours later, and he quickly fell asleep as I carefully placed a blanket on him. I curled up next to him, crying myself to sleep as I had realized it would be our last night together.

I woke up this morning with my heart in my throat. I laid there next to Martin for as long as I could. When it was time to leave I put him in his carrier, made my way to my car and placed him in the front seat. Normally he would hate being trapped in that tiny space, but today he was laying there silently. When we got to the veterinarian's I eventually gathered the strength to trudge my way inside, carrier in hand. The vet explained the procedure and handed me some papers to sign. Then, after the whole process the vet left and I was left alone with Martin to say my final goodbyes. But all I could do was cry, and cry.

I tried my best to comfort you, petting you in all your favourite spots, making sure to get the spot behind your ears. I wanted to say so much, but I couldn’t seem to say anything at all. I wanted to tell you how you’ve been such a good boy all these years. How your presence was enough to make me feel better on my worst days, and how it was gonna be okay, that I love you, and would never stop missing you. Although I couldn’t say any of that. You took your final breath, and all I could do was sob reminiscing the memories that I was lucky enough to make with you.

(Photo credit)

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gaysimpsstuff · 3 years

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Could I get a Hawks in his rut headcanon?

No problem, Anon! I’m sorry this took so long, I wanted it to be perfect since I really like thinking about Hawks’ avian traits, and I know people really like it too. I hope it’s good!

Hawks Rut Headcannons

Genre: fluff, smut

Type: headcannons (so... many... headcannons)

Warnings: animal traits, Keigo being possessive af, the commission being assholes, sickness, food, breeding kink, lots of horny times

Other: most of this is based off of real research, but some of it also comes from personal preference. @keilemlucent and their fic Best Nest very much inspired many other headcannons, check them outI They’re one of my favorite creators, and the linked fanfic is one of my favorites! Hope it’s okay I tagged you here lmao

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (Lemme know if you wanna be added to or removed from the Taglist)

Remember to check if requests are open before sending in a request. This was made while requests were still open.

Pre-Rut Behaviors

Grooming and Preening

Before his rut, Keigo starts to feel dirty. He just seems to accumulate more dust and dirt during hero work than usual. He’ll come back home grumbling about blood in his hair and little bits of concrete in/on his skin.

He will insist you clean him off. So you get to brush his hair, put creams on his face, and wash him off in the shower.

Finally, there’s the preening. If he lets you preen his wings, then you know he’s in it for life. He loves and trusts you with everything he has.

Expect him to press his nose against yours a lot.

Possessiveness and Protection

You’ll notice he gets more clingy, more possessive of you. He gets really controlling in the days leading up to his rut, so you’ll be annoyed a l o t.

Just text all your friends and family that you’ve been swamped at work, it’d be a little weird to say “hey guys, sorry I can’t hang out, my boyfriend’s horomones are crazy right now and he gets really insecure if I so much as exist near anyone but him.”

You would come home from work and he’s already on you, sniffing your body to see who you’ve been around, and to see if any of them were attracted to you at all.

If he had any kind of sneaking suspicion that anyone posed a threat, he’s literally laying on you and rolling on top of you to try and get his scent on you. Even if no one will smell it except him, he’s gonna do it.

He’s so protective of you, and if something tiny hurts you or makes you upset...

He.

Is.

Angry.

Someone was rude to you? He’s screaming at them.

Someone tries to hurt or touch you? You’ve got to hold him back to stop him from ripping that person apart limb from limb.

All that x100 when he’s approaching his rut.

One person accidentally bumps into you? He takes it as passive aggressiveness even if they’re very apologetic about it.

You stub your toe on a table? He’s smashed the table and burnt it then thrown the ashes in the ocean.

If you’re sad about something he can’t beat up, he feels horrible. He’s not the best at comforting people, so he’s just grabbing onto you and not letting go, telling you how much he loves and cares for you, and just how amazing you make his life feel.

If you don’t give him enough attention, he gets really huffy, and it gets worse leading up to his rut.

You lifted your hands from his head to reach for your buzzing phone? He’s already whining and pouting and begging you to give him more head-pats again.

Nesting

He’ll leave hints asking for you to make a nest, usually saying things like “Our bed needs some changing, don’t you think?” “Don’t you wish our space was more personalized?”

If you don’t get the hint, he’ll be very sad, and he thinks you’re rejecting him. So you’d better be good at reading into things and realizing he’s approaching mating season and wants you to build a nest.

He comes home one day and sees you piled blankets, pillows, and dirty clothes in the living room, sprayed with his cologne and you’re cologne and/or perfume. He pulls you into his arms and spins around with you, giggling and laughing.

He’s so happy you made a nest for the two of you.

He starts putting pretty shiny things he likes around the nest. Your toothbrush went missing and you found it in the mountain that was your nest.

Once, you were in desperate need of a clean shirt, and the only clean shirt you could find was in the nest. So you picked it up to put it on, and two seconds later, Keigo was in front of you, hands in your shirt, staring at you with such a fierce intensity, you felt almost like a villain.

He was very mad at you for taking things from your shared nest.

He leaves feathers all around the penthouse, but they’re all piled mostly around the nest, they’re for your protection so don’t try and throw them away.

Noises

He also gets really noisy, so he’ll be ‘singing’ and squawking and cooing constantly. He feels really bad about it so he might get you some noise-blocking headphones for when he’s screeching into the sky in the dead of night about how “THIS IS MY FUCKING TERRITORY Y’ALL MOTHERFUCKERS STAY AWAYYYY!”

You really think bird’s springtime songs are about love? Nah he’s mostly screaming about how he’s gonna fuck his partner and how the neighborhood practically belongs to him.

Someone called the police once, tired of all the shouting, but the officers backed off when they saw who was doing all the shouting. Most of your neighbors are used to the screaming during early spring.

Rut End-game

On the third and second to last day before his rut, he gets a sudden burst of energy and an increased appetite. He refuses to eat anything unless you’ve made it though, so let’s best hope you can cook at least a little.

When he was younger, his hungry times before his rut were spent either eating anything and everything he can get his hands on. The commission broke that behavior very quickly though, so he’d starve himself before his rut, which would result in him getting very sick from a lack of energy and sustenance. That plus the extreme arousal was a recipe for pain and suffering.

So when you noticed he suddenly stopped eating, you insisted on making food for him, telling him that you wouldn’t let him go hungry ever. That was the first rut in years that didn’t feel like torture.

You’re cooking almost all the time, and he’s constantly eating everything you give him, running around from room to room while he waits for his next meal. He’s basically a hobbit.

In the last day or two before his rut, he suddenly has no energy, and starts getting hot and cold flashes. He’s sniffling, curled up in your shared nest, dirty tissues surrounding him. He comes in and out of consciosness, and when he’s awake, he’s whining and complaining about exhaustion and aches.

Physical Changes

Most of these happen in the last few days leading up to his rut, so it’ll be very sudden. These physical changes is what causes the extreme hunger and sickness.

His feathers darken several shades, and they become super sensitive. They also seem to grow in size, so when you cuddle, you’re smothered by them more than usual.

He also gains an extra couple inches in height, so expect some teasing now that he’s just that little bit taller. His hair also gets thicker and stronger, that’s so you can pull on it when he fucks you.

His nails get longer and darker, and they’re impossible to file or cut. So when he holds you and touches you, he often scratches you on accident. He’s really apologetic about it, but honestly you could totally paint his nails and pretend they’re acrylics if you’re into that.

His teeth get sharper, and he starts biting you just for fun. Bites your finger, hand, wrist, neck, even your nose. He underestimated just how strong his teeth are, and he made you bleed first time he bit you.

His whole body is very sensitive, so head-pats, back rubs, wings, and even his touching his feet can get him to the verge of cumming.

his tongue is longer, and it’s a whole lot stronger. He could probably carry a full plastic water bottle with his tongue (which isn’t a lot, but for a tongue it’s very much a lot).

His voice drops a whole octave and a half- mans is sounding almost like Corpse now. Maybe Markiplier? Anyways, if you’ve got a voice kink, you’re in luck

His dick changes too, it gets bigger, and he grows a lump at the base of it, between his shaft and balls. His balls get smaller until they’re barely noticable beneath what he calls him ‘knot.’

His eyes become sharper too, so don’t try and hide anything from him.

Rut (MAJOR NSFW)

Everyone already knows Keigo has a breeding kink, but he hasn’t brought it up with you until now. It just kind of- happens. As he’s drilling into you, he suddenly starts blabbering about fucking a kid into you, and how hot you’d look all round with his kids. Might be a little weird for those of you who physically cannot give birth to children (my lovely AMABS and infertile AFABS).

He can’t control it, so it’s especially weird if you don’t even want kids. If you can get pregnant, you’d better double check that you’re taking your birth control. And get to know some good clinics just in case.

However, if you do want kids, if you want to start a biological family woth Keigo, fuck. You will not be able to handle his happiness and horniness in that moment when you beg him to get you pregnant.

He is going to mark you up. Hickies, bruises, hand prints, bite marks, plus his scent. He needs everyone to know that you are his. He wants to claim you, make sure you know you belong to him. No one else can have you but him.

Halfway through your fuckfest, he starts making animalistic noises. He’s growling, roaring, whining, chirping, etc. This is around the time when he stops thinking about you, so he’ll really rough you up during this phase.

This man was a virgin before you, so this is also the first rut he’s ever going to have with another person, so he’ll hold himself back a lot. He needs you to reassure him at every step, tell him how good you feel, how you want him to fuck you, how not only are you okay with him going all out, you want him too.

Did he just cum? You think you’re finished? HA! No way in fucking hell is he finished after one, two, five, ten... so many rounds. He just keeps going and going and going and how the fuck is he still hard? He cums so fucking quickly, so much, and then keeps going.

When he finally does go soft, his whole personality changes. it’s like he didn’t just fuck you stupid. He immediately goes into ‘protect’ mode, which includes cuddles, him spoon-feeding you, petting you like a dog, and singing to you.

He puts the nest near a window so he can keep an eye out for possible threats. Just like “gotta keep mate safe. Is that the mailman? NO FUCK NO GET OUT OF HEREEEE!”

One moment, he’s fucking you, and the next he’s leaning halfway out the window, screaming at some poor dude walking his dog. Remember, he’s still naked. You learned your lesson after that and kept the windows locked, and warned the neighbors to stay out of sight of the window, at least for the time being.

You’re going to feel very dirty, because he does not want you cleaning off the sweat, cum, and tears from your body. He likes that you smell like him, and you washing it off makes him feel rejected.

He’s going to break a lot of things, so move pictures and vases into another room and lock the fuck out of that room. Or else he will break all of it.

He thinks any clothes you’re wearing are mocking him, so wear clothes you hate when his rut starts, then get used to being naked for a couple days.

Oh yeah, his whole rut lasts one to five days. He’s fucking you for about three days on average.

He fucks you until you faint, and then keeps going until he’s out of ‘fuck’ mode and into ‘protect’ mode. A few times, he fucked you unconscious in the middle of the afternoon and then kept fucking you until the sun rose.

Yeah, he’s got that much energy.

Don’t worry, during the whole time, he lets out pheromones with a strong vanilla-chocolaty scent that keeps your body and mind relaxed.

There’ve been times when he’s just fucking into you and your water bottle is just out of reach.

During his rut, he has no shame. Let’s hope your walls are soundproofed, or else your neighbors will all know how he fucks you.

He will not restrain you or hurt you in any way during his rut. So no degredation, no collars or chains, the only thing keeping you in the nest is his weight on top of you.

He gets upset if you try to touch yourself, things it’s you trying to tell him that he’s not satisfying you enough.

He wants you to cum as many times as him, which is difficult because of his increased sensitivity, so he’s using every skill he knows to get you cumming again and again and again.

Most of the time, he’s going hard, rough, and spilling absolute filth from his cock and mouth, but in the last few hours of his rut, he suddenly gets emotional.

He’s rocking up against you, holding you close to his body and blabbering about you

How much he loves you

How good you make him feel

How he wouldn’t want anyone else by his side for his rut

How you’re his mate for life

How he’ll protect you and keep you safe.

Please be gentle with him, he’s very vulnerable near the end of his rut, and he’ll cry very easily.

When he’s nearing his last load, he makes out with you sloppily, trying to talk as he shoves his tongue down your throat.

He finishes off by pushing his knot all the way inside you, and stays there for an hour.

This is the softest moment, and he’s covering your body in kisses.

His knot pushes these small eggs inside you, and you have the lovely job of pushing them all out the next day.

Post Rut

When his knot deflates, he finally pulls out and starts cleaning you off.

He’ll carry you around and finally gives you a bath, constantly making sure you’re okay.

He’ll give you lots of massages and he’ll cook for you. He’s constantly thanking you for helping him, telling you he didn’t deserve it.

Just kiss him on the cheek, tell him you had fun, and that you love him so very very much.

He needs the most reassurance now than ever before.

He’s also very tired, so you’ll be taking care of each other.

Then his ‘post-rut’ resets, and he sleeps for hours.

Then he gets super hungry, and the two of you make huge meals and just kinda binge eat for a day or two.

Then his physical changes go back to normal, and you have a happy lil bird boy who simps for you so hard

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 3 years

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#255

This is a direct follow up to #35.

“Glad to see you make it up here ok. I’m Robert, and you are?... Eddie. Good to meet you. Did you enjoy the drive? It really is nice. That’s part of the reason why I live up here. We don’t get many clients that come up here. Most order on line, but you are the first of the season. I reviewed your e-mail again and I think I have a selection of rimchairs for you. It would help me to narrow down your selections more if you answer some additional questions….

“Here, let’s go into the workshop. So, is this going to be a chair for you? Good. Are you the ass or the ass eater? Will you ever go underneath it?... No? Ok. Don’t worry, the only time I go under mine is to work on it.... Women, men, or both?... Women. Is this part of a S&M or kink situation?... That’s fine. It’s very rare for me to find someone willing to spend all this money for the sensual aspects of eating ass. Did you bring a slave woman with you? That’s fine. Most straight men don’t….

“No, I prefer fags under mine; is that going to be an issue here? I only ask because, I want to find the best rim chair for you, and I have a wealth of expertise I rely on. I don’t want to share my experiences with you and have it be awkward.

“Good! Good! Unless we need him, the faggot is up at the main house. That reminds me, will you be using the rim chair for full toilet activities? No… you would be surprised with just how many people are. Hell, every single dominatrix I have made a rim chair for is into it. And some of those women are fucking brutal to their slaves.

“So here let’s start with these three. The left two are designed primarily for rear entry and this third one is for the front. Me personally, I prefer my slave lying behind me when he’s attending to my shithole. His tongue seems to go in deeper and at a better angle. And I don’t have to spread my legs when he’s there. That’s one of the big difference between men and women is that women are narrower than men. It gets uncomfortable at times. For me it’s just easier with it behind me. Do you have a preference?... That’s fine. They will be designed for front and rear entries, but structurally it will be designed one way.

“It’s really all about comfort. Comfort was actually that reason that got me into making rimchairs. What I saw out there was horrible. They were rimseats. To me rimseats are different than what I make. Rimseats are essentially toilet seats on legs. The faggot lies underneath, and I would squat down. I’m a big guy and I can’t sit that low for a long time, before my legs start to cramp up, about fifteen to twenty minutes at most. The problem with making the legs longer is that the faggot underneath is then straining to keep his head buried in the crack of my ass. Either it is straining to keep its tongue buried deep, or its head can move all around. Either way, the faggot tires quickly and it’s a piss poor rimjob.

“That’s why I started with the idea of transforming regular chair designs into rimchairs. I have throne-like chairs, deck chairs, reclining chairs, dining chairs, and so on. Every one has support for the toilet lying underneath, so that multiple hour-long sessions are not a problem. I can customize it to a specific head size, as well as how far in you want the slave’s face when you sit down. Or, some of the chairs allow for adjustability. I personally like feeling my faggot’s face getting wedged in there, and then to have its mouth lined up to connect with my shithole. That is priceless. No other feeling of power compares with it. If you are into slaves that are reluctant, I can make the head spaces very restrictive. I can even create a box, measured exactly to your slave’s head where they can’t move an inch. My slave tells me that it gets very claustrophobic under it. I even designed is so that the slave places its head in the box and the hinged platform lowers with a piece going below the slave’s chin preventing the slave from pulling out from underneath until you get up off the chair and let it out.

“I see you like the casual desk chair. I have one just like it at my work desk. My faggot is under that one for hours. I can be doing work, surfing the internet, or jacking off to porn. I’m not even paying attention to the tongue fucking I’m getting. It’s just adding to the general euphoria of what I’m doing.

“You have a wife, girlfriend, bitch slave, or whatever?... Oh you have an out of state friend with benefits that likes to eat ass? From what I have learned through the years, it’s hard to find a woman into it. That’s fucking awesome.

“If you really love your butthole tongued for a long time, maybe you should get a fag, until you find the right bitch. Seriously. I had one client purchase a similar seat to that one, that he had installed in his playroom. It was up against a wall. He enclosed the sides of the chair. There was a hole in the wall that the ass eater would crawl through. It was an 18 year-old faggot from down the street, and that fag tongue fucked like no other I have ever tried out, and yeah I tried it out. The most interesting thing is that they had a set time each week when they did this. The kid came in through a dedicated entrance, and the client sat down, neither of them said a word to the other. Truly amazing.

“Go on, have a seat. I’ll have it customed to your ass and thighs so that when you are sitting, your cheeks are comfortably spread. You know, those Carhartt pants are restricting your ass and legs. You’re not getting the proper placement of your ass.

“Why don’t you take them off? Other than me and shithead up in the house, no one is going to see you. I get maybe, maybe one customer a week. When we go into the design room to take measurements, I will need you to have them off. Leaving your underwear on is better than this. Briefs, no briefs. We don’t care…. Commando? We don’t care about that either.

“Look, if you think this is my way of seducing you, let me say that I like faggot boys, not real men like yourself. I get turned on when I know a man—a real hard working man—is getting his dick, ass, and everything else taken care of at the expense of faggots. I’m not talking about gay boys. I mean faggots, boys who exist to serve a real man, to take care of that man’s needs including draining his balls, eating his ass, and so on. To a faggot, draining your cock and eating your shithole is the reason for its existence, even at the expense of its own needs. So no, I wouldn’t dream of sticking my cock in you. You can count on that.

“Don’t worry about my faggot; its tiny pecker is permanently locked away. It has been that way ever since he got here last fall. You remember that first snowstorm we had? Well right before the snowfall hit its car ran out of gas, and it got stuck. At least that was its story. I made it an offer, find someone else to help in the snowstorm, or submit to me. I’ve kept it naked, with its pecker painfully locked up in that device ever since. I’ve trained it to service my shithole for hours on end. It hasn’t cum in the five months it’s been serving me.

“Let me text it to come down here…. No, it’s no problem. Go ahead and get comfortable. Take the pants off, leave them on the table. It’s best to put your work boots back on.

“That’s a beautiful cock you have. I bet the women love it. Stop the modesty thing. You are a fucking hot man, you should relish in the adoration. Have a seat. Doesn’t that feel good on your ass? You can feel the spread, but it doesn’t feel like you are falling in? Now imagine a moist tongue darting in and out of your crack.

“And speaking of a moist tongue, here’s the fag…. Faggot! This is Sir Eddie. Get under the seat and get to work….

“No more protesting. I don’t care how dirty it is. I saw your skid marks in your pants, the fag will clean you up. He lives for shit like this. Its tongue feels good in there, doesn’t it? Don’t answer, I can see it on your face. Just relax.

“I will be over there in the design shop if you need me. Try out any of the other chairs. The faggot will do whatever you want or need to feel good. You can stay as long as you like. Even over night or throughout the rest of the weekend. The fag will take care of everything for you. It’ll eat your farts, drink your piss, throat your shaft, take a beating, or whatever. Just tell it what you want, and it will comply. By the end you will understand why a faggot is better than a bitch. Make me a good enough offer, and I may throw the faggot in.”

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teacupcollector · 3 years

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A Helping Hand - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist Summary - As a woman who is pregnant you are doing anything if it means survival. Even so you found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was it the other way around? Now you are in the community of Jackson and you can’t help but attract a certain pair of hazel eyes.

(Hello! I would like to note that this is much longer then what I usually write for a chapter so I hope it doesn’t come as a bother. I hope you all enjoy!)

From then on those thirty minute talks became a regular thing between the two of you. You and Joel would meet up, mostly at night on each other's porches and just talk or maybe just sit in silence. He seemed to be very rough around the edges in the beginning especially when it came to questions about his past. All you really knew about Joel before the outbreak was that he was a divorcee and was a carpenter. You decided not to push it and talk about other things. As of right now you both were currently sitting on a porch swing on your porch. He had his guitar in his lap playing a soft little tune and humming.

"You ever play?" He asks out of the blue. "What? Oh no I have never played." You say. "Would ya like to?" He asks. "I couldn't even if I tried." You laughed. "My belly is almost the size of a full grown watermelon. The guitar wouldn't fit in my lap." You say and he chuckles. "But I will say this little sucker likes hearing you play." You say rubbing your belly. "He looks between you and your belly. "Does he?" Joel asks. "Yes definitely! They wouldn't give me a break until you started playing." You say with a warm smile. "And how do you know they are a 'He?' How can you tell?" You asks and he chuckles. "You're carrying low." You give him a confused look and he chuckles. "That means the weight is lower. With a girl it would be more elevated." He says setting the guitar against the railing of the porch. "And how would you know that?" You ask. He pauses for a moment before saying. "I had a daughter before all of this happened." You try not to have a reaction. You place a comforting hand on his arm. "You don't have to talk about it Joel." "I uh... I'll tell you one day okay sweetheart?" He asks and you nod with a blush.

There is a silence before Joel asks. "If you don't mind me asking. What happened to the father?" You sigh and look down removing your hand from his arm. "Well it is kind of hard to explain." You let out a nervous laugh. "It was mainly a friends with benefits thing..." You says looking ahead. "... But he did step up when he found out I was pregnant. I would be dead if it wasn't for him." You say with a quiver present in your voice. "There were these fucking hunters that attacked us. We were talking about baby names." You say with a laugh as tears fill your eyes. "We were best friends from the start actually. It was just us against the world." You sniffle. "He sacrificed himself to save me and I have to live with the thought that I got him killed." You say wiping your eyes as tears begin to fall down your face. "You didn't get him killed (Y/N)..." "Yes I did." "You didn't." "I did!" You cry out. Joel immediately wraps an arm around you bringing your head to his chest. "All I can think about is that he got chopped up into tiny pieces!" You say into his chest. "I-I went back even though he told me not to. I went back to see if he was dead and... And all that was left was his head!" She sobs into Joel's chest grabbing onto his jacket. He wraps his other arm around you, one cradling your head and the other rubbing soothing circles on your back. He stands up with you and guides you inside to your bedroom. He makes sure you lay down and tucks you into bed. "D-don't leave! Please..." You whimper and he nods bringing your desk chair over and sitting down. "I'm sorry..." You murmur as your eyes drift close.

Ever since that day Joel made sure he did his best to make himself available to you. When he isn't on patrol or with Ellie he is with you. The early tells of Spring has just arrived so as a small celebration everyone decided to get together in the square of Jackson. Kids were playing and singing, there were streamers and fairy lights hanging off the buildings, there were small fold up tables with drinks and food on them, and then there was you. You were in some black flats wearing a beautiful maternity sun dress and Joel couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Your hair was styled differently, or maybe it was the same but never have you looked so beautiful. His eyes traveled from your smooth exposed legs, to the swell of your stomach and hips, to the fullness of your breasts, up your neck, then finally your beautiful side profile. When they say that a woman is glowing when she is pregnant, that would be an understatement when it came to you. He was convinced that you could outshine the sun if you wanted. He is nudged to the side slightly breaking him from his trance. He looks beside him to see his little brother next to him. Tommy had a shit eating smirk on his face. "What?" Joel grunts. "She's beautiful ain't she?" Tommy asks looking to see his brothers reaction. Joel only grunts and looks away. "Why don't ya just tell her?" He asks and Joel sighs. "She is to young for me Tommy..." Tommy sighs. "She isn't that young, she is in her thirties." Tommy says trying to reason with his brother. "She is going to have a baby Tommy. She shouldn't have to deal with an old man like me..." Joel says with sadness filling his voice.

"You know she talks a big deal about you right?" Tommy asks. Joel looks at him curious urging him to continue. "She boasts about ya. Sayin' how helpful you are to her and stuff." Tommy says before continuing. "You both were the talk of the town when you went off on Seth. You have been spending a lot of time with her." He says then nods in your direction. "Ellie seems to like her as well." Joel looks up and sees you smiling and laughing with both Dina and Ellie. Dina seemingly can't keep her hands off you bump and the two teens eyes widening with excitement when they feel a kick from the little life that is inside you. There was currently music playing as couples begin to pair off with each other. He sees you place both hands on your belly and go to sit on a bench that was placed near the square for this event. Joel sighs and continues to admire you. "You deserve to be happy brother... Now you go ask that pretty lady to dance." He says elbowing Joel's side gently and Joel nods and begins to make his way over to you.

Despite all the ruckus in the square you have never felt happier. This was your first town event since you have been here and you couldn't be more excited. When it came to the preparation and set up of this event you wanted to help in any way you could. Maria decided it would be best if you didn't do any hard labor since you were coming up on eight months now. Maria thought it would be a good idea to distract the children so they wouldn't get in the way and you gladly accepted. You spent all morning coloring, reading books, and playing with them. They all were very curious about your stomach and you allowed them to feel. All the kids decided to color you and the baby when he or she arrives. They all also made a book of names for you to choose such as: Hotdog, Teddy, and Sprinkles. You giggled and laughed all morning until one of the mainly residents came to let you know that the kids are allowed to go to the event. You had them walk in two single file lines all the way to the square and to say that the parents as well as Maria weren't impressed would be a lie. Maria went up to you immediately and offered you a spot for helping and or teaching the kids. You accepted but only after your baby was born to which she agreed.

As of right now you just got out of a conversation with Dina and Ellie. You were happy to be talking to them despite the fifteen or sixteen year age difference. You decided it was best to sit down and get off your feet for a bit. You let out a sigh of relief as you sit down on the bench. You roll your ankles in circular motions in order to relieve some tension. You close your eyes and hum along to the music when there was suddenly a tap on your knee. You open them to see one of the kids standing next to you. He had brown hair with many freckles and brown eyes, he was maybe around eight years old. "Would you like to dance Miss (Y/N)?" He asks and you smile. "Of course good sir I would love to dance with you." You stand up and walk to a free space where people weren't dancing. You had to lean down slightly in order to hold his hands as you both sway back and forth. The child went on and on about how his day was going, what his friends were going to do at the sleep over, and even how you were his favorite teacher. The conversation was interrupted when Joel tapped on the young boys shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?" He asks with a small smile and the boy shakes his head before going to run off with his friends. Both you and Joel stand there for a moment before he reaches out his hand. "Hi..." He says seemingly gazing at you. "Hi..." You say taking his hand. He brings you as close as he could despite your belly getting in the way. He places his other hand at the small of your back and begins to sway from foot to foot. "How are you?" He ask. "I couldn't be better." You say smiling. You look him up and down to see him in a button up flannel of sorts. His sleeves are rolled up to expose his forearms and to say he looked good was an understatement. " You clean up nice. " You say with a smile before releasing his hand wand wrapping both of them behind his neck. "I try and look nice every once and a while." He says with a smirk. "And you dance too?" You ask. He nods before taking your hands off his neck and slowly twirl you to where your back was against his chest. You let out a joyful laugh and look over your shoulder to smile up at him. "You've got moves huh Mr. Miller?" You says smiling. "That I do." He says looking down at you. Your eyes are locked in a trance as you both can't seem to stop. You were sure you could feel his heart beating out of his chest against your back. You find yourself glancing down at his lips and he does the same. You begin to lean in and up slightly closing your eyes when suddenly you feel him pull away. "Sorry..." He mumbles before walking away from you leaving you on the dance floor by yourself. To say your heart didn't ache would be a lie.

#joel tlou #ellie tlou #dina tlou #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x pregnant reader #soft joel #fluff #angst #tommy miller #maria miller #the last of us #the last of us 2

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hollyhomburg · 3 years

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Color me pretty

(Bts Little space au)

Summary: When it came to the littles, the caregivers knew there was no better activity than coloring.

Tags: SFW, implied bts x reader, pure fluff, little space, little! kookie, Little! m/c, Caregivers! bts,

W/c: 1.5k

A/n: If you don’t like this kind of content please just skip over it and pay it no mind! this is very sweet and fluffy. this can be read alone, but i did use the characters from my other little space ask au titled ‘the peanut butter to my jelly’ it’s linked at the end of the fic! i wrote this drabble in one sitting!

- On the nights that Koo and the m/c are non-verbal but still feeling energetic enough to need stimulation the caregivers have a special little ritual that they like to do.

- it’s something tucked away, always ready to have on hand when they need it, it never fails to calm an overly excited or sugar high little; the blanket made out of a special material that can be washed after it’s doodled on, painted, and made new.

- On those special days, the caregivers bring around all their ‘messy blankets’ the fort making supplies that no one minds if they get ruined, if koo gets his apple sauce on it or if a sippie mistakenly gets it’s lid taken off. they make a nest in the living room with markers and crayons and they’re allowed to get the blanket as colorful as possible.

- The blanket is magic in the littles eyes! filled with simple flowers that they can color in as many times as they want! All the laundry fairy (Taehyung) has to do is pop the blanket in the washer and voila! it’s all ready for more coloring! no more marker marks.

- I just picture her and Koo stretched out on it with half of their stuffed animals for “moral support” while cartoons play in the background coloring to their hearts content. Koo gets a little younger in his headspace sometimes than the m/c though they’re pretty equal in general.

- Eventually koo just gets so small that he forgoes coloring all together, instead busying himself with sucking on the end of a marker. while the m/c just giggles with her tongue hanging out, swinging her feet, the picture of adorable concentration as she struggles to keep her pink marker inside the lines.

- Occasionally one of the caregivers will come in to check on them. And they’d come pet over their heads and koo and the m/c just excitedly gesture to the mess they’ve made! their brains too cottony to make many words other than “flower! made’ pink!!!” koo in his little sing song voice going “flower flower flower~”

- And whichever caregiver who is on “baby duty” will praise them, today it’s yoongi who takes a second to sit, each of the littles tucked under an arm. yoongi leaning in close and tracing his finger along their pretty lines. “you guys got so far today! almost all of them are filled!” he loves how puffed up both of your chests get at the praise.

- He can almost tell how far down they were when they first started coloring. on the outside border the flowers are carefully patterned, but the ones just under where you where sitting are full of wilds scribbles. Yoongi reminds himself to take a picture before they wash it, wanting to save a memory of today.

- “Oh did you make this for us little ones? I bet Joonie’s going to love it you know how much he loves nature! and you even gave each of them little stems.”

- And of course, eventually they find the m/c and koo are asleep in their little puddle of markers. Maybe the m/c has a little bit of purple splotch on her cheek. After they wake them up to put them to bed she whines softly when they clean it off her cheek “oh you poor fussy baby, don’t worry it will only take a second” her cute pout demanding a kiss for every rub.

- Eventually she presses into bed and koo kisses the faintly red spot on her face. his kiss a little wet and open mouthed but so innocent it makes the caregivers bookending them on either side coo. it’s as much of a sorry as koo can articulate right now. his mind feels like marshmellows and stuffed animals, like a too squeezed juice pouch and an empty packet of fruit snacks. totally devoid of big scary thoughts.

- The caregivers are glad they made the decision to throw out all and every permanent marker in the house after the last little incident when Koo decided that people were a viable canvas. I think their whole house would be full of little doodles from the two littles. When they get big they always blush and say that they don’t need to pin them to every available surface. But the caregivers just shush them because they honestly love their drawings.

-To the caregivers, their collection of drawings is a representation of the love they have for their two youngest. A mark of a healthy relationship- that they can give love in a way that matters to the two of them. Maybe jimin gets a tattoo of one of their flowers, a little purple one for koo and a pink one for the m/c on his hip at once point.

- Maybe one day the m/c has what they affectionately call a ‘tiny day’ where she’s small and can’t seem to snap out of it. she tries valiantly, but after that catch her pouting down at her coffee and staring wistfully at her stuffy on the bed they tell her it’s okay. she can be small today and they’ll handle all of the big thoughts.

- Of course they can’t stay home because they have a track due soon, and alas they are adults, so certain things have to be accounted for. There have been many times that the m/c has had to pretend to be at least a little big in public, luckily for the caregivers their littles are always remarkably well behaved.

- They treat it as a game, today, bunny is a secret agent and cannot be discovered by anyone, sent to protect the princess. Nothing can happen to her as long as bunny’s there. But no one can see bunny- or else his powers are nullified. It does the trick. They love to see her nodd seriously when Tae weaves the story for her. it makes their heart hurt when they catch her talking to the bunny. “i gots you.” it makes it so hard to seperate from her for the day.

- Seokjin packs up a day bag and gets her in the comfiest clothes possible and she spends the whole day quietly coloring in the corner of Joonie’s studio with her favorite bunny stuffie in her lap. She’s always careful to tuck him under her blanket and hide him whenever someone comes knocking, pretending to tap away on Namjoon’s tablet, but luckily no one pays her much mind, used to her presence.

- When the noise and the stimulation gets too much for her namjoon puts her in a pair of noise canceling headphones that play soft nature sounds and pretty soon when he turns around to check on her he finds she’s nodded off in his couch. And he gets up to fix the blanket around her before he goes back to work for a few more hours.

- She’s still asleep when the others finish up and decide to pry joonie away from work (a feat in itself) and when the others softly knock at the door she gets up, all bleary-eyed and honestly half-asleep rubbing at her eyes with a closed fist. almost tripping in happiness when she sees jungkook. hitting into his chest with a little ooof, almost tripping to get out of her blanket. So excited to see him- her favorite playmate “Koo play now!? koo get tiny!!!??”

- Already the stress is weighing on Jungkook’s shoulders, his eyes getting all misty when he sees her bunny and the blanket and just wants to regress so bad. He starts to help her clean up the day bag but seokjin and Namjoon ease him away from it.

- “You’ve got to watch her for us Kookie, can you do that? can you be a good boy?” by now they know how to softly nudge Jungkook into his headspace and it does the trick, lets him have a task before he can truly let go. they end up giggling softly with their foreheads pressed up against each other, telling stupid little jokes that are no doubt from jin and playing with each others hands.

- On the ride Home, they both hold onto one of bunnies ears in the backseat of their car. Their heads loling by the time they pull into their safe underground parking garage ready for some snuggles and probably a nice relaxing bath for kookie because he hates feeling sweaty from practice when he’s little. He Just wants to sit and play with some bubbles and bath toys while someone runs shampoo through his hair, the soft-smelling kind that's meant for babies.

- Inevitably Koo always looks up from his bubble bath and points at himself and says “baby?” Hobi nods sagely while smoothing his hair into a goofy mohawk, “baby” he agrees.

- But that’s not exactly true- the better term would be ‘their babies’

~Fin~

Please reblog and comment! Likes are nice- but they do little to support content creators!

(You can find more little space content here)

#bts x reader #bts little space #bts age regression #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts comfort #little space #bts littlespace #bts #bts fanfic #bts au #bts poly au #jeon jungkook x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #sfw bts

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dodo-begone · 3 years

Text

The Mistake has Arrived

Pairing: Yan!DSMP!Techno, Yan!Ranbob!, Yan!Ranbutler x Reader

Request: Do you do continuations? If so could you make a part 2 with for the "mistakes were made" (aka the pregnancy one)? Like how they would act when the child is like actually born and causing mischief?? Please and thank you!

Summary: It seems that, after the baby arrives, things seem to change. It's hard to describe because things didn't change much yet at the same time managed to be the complete opposite of what they were before. Or maybe you hadn't noticed these things before. Who knows.

Word count: 2.1k

Warning: yandere, nsfw joke at the end of Ranbob’s section

Part 1 | Mistakes were Made

If this ever looks wonky/glitched, I have this properly archived on Ao3

A/n: the first part was implied AFAB reader because of pregnancy- and it probably still is but pregnancy is barely mentioned in this.

Techno

So remember when this man was absolutely terrified for you and the baby? Yeah that doesn’t get alleviated. If anything, that fear gets worse.

You holding the child, the perfect combination of you two, makes him truly realize how fragile the baby is. Like hello? This thing is his? And so tiny? Like a potato, a large one at that but still a potato?

Potatoes are fragile. Babies are fragile. Baby is like a potato, which makes them ultra fragile- oh NO.

Let’s get this straight; Techno is the infamous blood god. This huge hulking piglin hybrid who can easily kill anyone in arm’s reach. And then you got this tiny defenceless baby that is related to him? Like he knows how this thing works but it just feels surreal.

This anxiety feeds his distaste for holding his own child. He’s a monster and that’s a sweet innocent baby. He is going to severely harm the baby by even holding it. You never know what could happen- plus you need some mother-child bonding. It’s very important. Yes you may have been carrying that baby for 9 months but some more physical touch goes a long way. It grounds it more into reality for you. Yeah, that’s totally the reason.

The behavior can only last so long though. Eventually Techno would have to bond with his kid, hold his kid. You were getting fed up with how long he was taking. His anxiety over the situation was obvious and you were giving him space. So you did, but it’s been months and he still refuses to even touch them. His avoidance is annoying and it has to come to an end. And you will make sure it will.

One day, while he was relaxing and reading, you gently plop the baby onto Techno and go do some household chores that are usually hard when you have to keep an eye and ear out for the kid at every second.

Techno and the kid have a shared moment of “wtf” because the baby saw this thing before but he never touched it before. And they were left on it? By mother? Techno is internally freaking out while this baby tries to crawl on him. Really they’re just pulling at his hair and clothing. Anything they can get their grubby little hands onto. And gum on whatever they can get into their mouth. Oh god, this is going to be a long… period of time. He doesn’t really know when you’ll come back for them but he hopes it’s soon.

It’s safe to say that you did not come to Techno’s rescue in a swift manner. You made sure to take your time doing everything that couldn’t be properly done. Like cleaning or cooking a proper meal. Cooking had been left up to Techno mostly, and you really appreciated that he took that up and made good food but someone can only handle potato based dishes for so long. It was about time that something else was made. The potatoes needed a break.

When you come back to Techno and the baby, you’re so pleased to see that they’re having a little bonding moment. The baby was calm and Techno was finally relaxed in what felt like a century. Everything was perfect.

Techno was reading Sun Tzu’s The Art of War and your sweet baby child had long dozed off in his arms. Techno either didn’t notice or didn’t care and kept reading aloud, though it was mostly likely that he wanted to start education young. Even in their sleep. He started the education process already, in a way, by reading The Art of War to your pregnant stomach for months on end. You’d long grown tired of it, but the sight and sound of Techno reading still warmed your heart.

Ranbob

Nothing changes on his knowledge of babies. Not much, anyways. Some of the information he knows on babies came directly from you. The rest came from books found around Mizu.

In theory, he knows what to do. He read up on everything he’d need to know, after all. But in practice, it’s a whole different story. Anxiety occasionally comes to haunt him but he easily waves it off. He knows what he’s doing.

When Mizu was still populated, he observed the lives of others. There wasn’t much to do besides that. Children weren’t an uncommon sight. But babies? Now that wasn’t a common sight. Not many people brought their babies out. Nor were there many.

It’s understandable for him to not know exactly how to raise a baby. Unless you raised or helped to raise a baby, you aren’t exactly well versed in baby and are therefore slightly unprepared for said baby.

Though compared to children, he’s actually more prepared to care for the baby since there were so many books about baby care and stuff they’d need. Children are a whole different beast.

With children, it’s a more individual case-to-case deal. There aren’t any parenting guides on children. Well, there are. Though they all differ from each other. Each book has its own descriptions on why a behavior is happening and how to handle or fix it. So many differing opinions that overlapped were overwhelming. Ranbob soon came to the conclusion that childcare is more interpretive. Based on the child’s personality.

That’s way in the future though. Now he has to deal with a baby. A fragile little thing. It’s perfect in every way.

Now his anxiety starts to get the better of him. He’s so much bigger than it, much stronger. The baby is completely at his mercy and he is anxious that something bad may happen to it. Realistically, though, nothing bad is going to happen to his little family.

Once he holds the baby for the first time, all previous anxiety is taken by the wind. All that remains is absolute adoration. This leads to him caring for the baby almost entirely. Or when it’s least convenient for you, that is.

Like when your babe cries late into the night. Witching hour cries. Everytime without fail, he’d awaken and swiftly make his way to the nursery. All in an attempt to allow you to sleep. You’ve already done so much work to make the child. The least he could do was wake up and care for them. Plus you still looked so tired.

Although Ranbob was tired when morning came, it didn’t matter when you came out well rested. Or much better than the day before. Each day was a slight victory in his books. He only wanted the best for you, anyways. If sacrificing a few hours of sleep meant that you’d sleep better, then so be it.

He views your child as a blessing from Dream himself. A symbol of the union between you two. Just absolute perfection. Oh how lucky he is to have you and especially fortunate to have a child with you. His god has seen his hard work and has gifted him with so much more than he deserved. But he’d take it all the same.

If you two “accidently” had another kid, he’d be more than happy. Yes, he’s content and happy with the child you two already have. His life is perfect now. But if another addition just happened to come along? Well who is he to deny his god’s will?

aka he wants to weaken his pullout game to have another kid with you. One kid is enough but two? Oh that’d be swell!

Ranbutler

Compared to the previous two, Ranbutler’s reaction to the baby’s arrival would be labeled as “different”. Techno feared for his child, Ranbob was anxious, but Ranbutler? This man is ecstatic! Oh my gosh you two finally have a kid. Isn’t this just great?

His excitement level is astronomical. Come on, this man literally acts like this baby is going to achieve world wide peace or something. Like Jesus Christ incarnated. That’s the level of excitement he’s at.

Right from the get-go, Ranbutler is almost desperate in his attempts to hold the baby. Please? Pretty please? Why can’t he hold your baby? Our baby? Though as… desperate as he is to hold his child, he doesn’t want to disturb important mother-child bonding. Even if you carried them for around nine months, it’s still vital that you actually bond to your baby. Skin-to-skin early on is important.

At the next available time, most likely when you’re asleep or on the verge of sleeping, he’ll gently remove the child from atop your chest. Of course he’d go to the next comfiest and secure place he can and allow for some skin-to-skin between him and the baby.

According to some studies, skin contact with a baby supposedly “awakens” maternal or paternal and he was more than happy to test that out. If it worked? Then that’s great! If it didn’t work? What was the harm? It’s all good in the end.

Because of the nature of his job, you often don’t see him during the day. Both a blessing and a curse. This leaves you alone to care for the baby until he comes back. Even then, it wasn’t a guarantee that he’d help. That’s what you thought, at least.

No matter how exhausted he was or how irate he was from Billiam, the sight of your and the baby always made everything right in the world. All problems just dissolved away, becoming unimportant whispers of responsibilities.

Responsibilities that seemed to come from a whole different reality. Here, at home, the mess that’s Billiam doesn’t exist. Won’t ever affect his lovely little world.

Sometimes he comes home extremely late. So late that you already went to sleep, along with the baby. Occasionally you would try to stay up for him to come home. You were laying on the couch with the baby on your chest, what else was he to presume? That was obviously what you were doing, right?

On those nights, he would sit by you and just watch. Basking in the calm energy you exude. Even without talking to him, you always had a way of calming him down. Of making him feel loved and appreciated.

He would also take care of the baby's needs at night. With his occupation as Billiam’s servant, it really wasn’t the best idea, but he assured you that he would be fine. After all, he couldn’t bond with the baby during the day, so that only left the night. Even if it was menial tasks, he found solace in the presence of the family he was creating,

A question that kept reappearing was how he managed to get such a wonderful partner. One so willing to have a child with him. Deep down, he knew the actual answer, but it was hidden under so many layers of delusions that it’d be better and easier not to deal with that mess.

Now that you had the baby to care for, he was much more willing to leave you alone while he went to work. Yes, sometimes he still brought you into the room with The Egg. But that was only because you seemed stressed the day, night, or morning before he left.

How could he just leave his precious to flounder around so helplessly? A baby can easily be overwhelming. The Egg was more than willing to help you.

The kid, although a beautiful culmination of the love between the two of you, also symbolized another thing. They were a shackle, keeping you tethered to him.

There was no way you’d be able or wish to escape in such a fragile condition. Especially with the baby. How could you risk the life of something so innocent? Of something that did absolutely nothing wrong besides existing. You wouldn’t be such a horrible monster, would you? No, he knows you. Knows that you wouldn’t do that.

Once he has a taste for parenthood, he’s practically addicted. He absolutely loves it. Loves you. Why not have another? And another? And another?

Let’s be honest, he might just want a small herd of kids. Not many, like four or five. A few more wouldn’t do too much harm, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. After all, you’d be around them the most, being the primary caretaker for them all.

The desire for a large family comes into direct conflict with his desire to not make you overwhelmed and overworked. It was a hard battle, but he convinced himself that maybe just one more wouldn’t hurt. Just one more, and that’ll be the last he’ll want.

He’ll say that for the next three he plans to have with you. Can men get baby fever? If they can, then this man definitely would have it, just saying.

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badgirlcovenrep · 3 years

Note

omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.

#chenrich fanfic #send me chenrich prompts #i dare you #chenrich #alex chen #alex chen × steph gingrich #steph gingrich

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thedamageofherdays · 3 years

Text

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

#my reading log #r's reading log #fic rec #stucky fic rec #fics recs #stucky #danbeau #samrhodey #longpost #long post #clintasha #evanstan

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morgana-ren · 3 years

Text

SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom?

Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.

Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.

There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.

Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.

All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.

Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.

He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.

So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.

Great.

True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.

His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that.

So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.

So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then?

Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.

Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track.

So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him.

Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?

You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.

Strangely though, you don’t run off.

If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.

Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.

It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.

Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.

You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.

He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.

Except he forgets one crucial detail-

The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves.

You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.

It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.

You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up.

All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.

It makes him smile.

His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right.

lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass

KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.

Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot

KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face

st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol

Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.

He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.

‘Here, you decide then.’

Thus the shitstorm begins.

st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao

lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u

Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already

VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch

lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol

VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?

Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all

VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move?

Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will

lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do

VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up

Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself

It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?

Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.

Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.

But you don’t.

This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.

‘Maybe I will.’

That’s how it starts.

Snowball into snowstorm.

With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.

Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.

So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties.

The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper.

It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?

He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils.

Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now.

He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.

The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.

Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.

It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.

He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-

Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-

He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties.

“Shit-”

Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.

He thinks so.

Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.

With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?

Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.

There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.

He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.

Speak of the she-devil.

“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-” He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you. “Yeah- yeah, sure.”

He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.

“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“

Yeah you will.

Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.

You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.

He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.

“Oh- okay, yeah-“

Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.

“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.

“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”

“Oh, take your time. No rush.”

You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.

He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.

And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.

Oh, this should be fun.

#nsft #shigaraki smut #see warnings #no mommy kink i am sorry #lots of gross shit for you tho #which I assume you want cause you came to me of all people #see the warning list up top for full disclosure

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akaashisupremacy · 3 years

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Moments of Courage

Summary: Osamu Miya is a difficult ex to have. When your paths cross endlessly, you try to rebuild your relationship. Will there be second chances? Or just more broken hearts?

HQ Masterlist || Multi-fandom Masterlist || Read it on A03

Osamu Miya x reader

“Are you leaving this party because of me?”

Osamu calls you out from the tiny hallway of your friend’s get together. After locking eyes with him, you did your best to subtly scamper towards the door.

“You don’t have to go. I can leave if it’s making you uncomfortable.” he assures.

You shake your head, “You can stay. I’m not having that much fun.”

You begin shuffling through the coat rack to look for yours. You’re desperate for anything to cut the time talking to him, talking about him. The only guaranteed way for this to stop is to leave.

“Are you hiding from me?” he asks almost rhetorically. His brows are gently raised.

“Yeah, obviously,” you retort, “I don’t want to be seen by you or with you.”

Osamu Miya is your ex. After over a year of dating, he decided to end things with you in a small cafe far off his onigiri stall.

“I’m too busy,” he claimed, “You deserve someone who could give you more time.”

You reasoned out that you didn’t mind not spending so much time together. His job was time-consuming. You understood that.

But Osamu was unsettled. You didn’t mind cheering him on from the benches waiting for him to finish up work. You liked seeing Osamu do things he was passionate about. And yet he felt unsettled, because he knew this was the type of work you would not engage in.

Osamu pressed on, “I’m sure you’ll find yourself someone more worldly, more sophisticated in the city. I don’t want to prevent you from meeting someone like that.”

Something dropped at the pit of your stomach. Your mouth was ajar. He’s really trying to break up with you. It’s no secret that you preferred the city and Osamu the countryside, but neither of you seemed to mind. You’d both make the time to visit each other. You made it work.

You remember barely touching your drink. Listening to him talk was like having a ton of bricks dropped on your back. The sunlight pouring in from the glass window suddenly felt prickly.

“I just don’t think we’re a good fit.” he swallowed, unable to look you in the eye, “I think someone from the country, someone simpler and more traditional would be better for me.”

You don’t miss the yearning in his voice, the dreaminess for someone who was clearly not you. He’d always tease that you were a true blue big city girl. You liked the tall buildings, the noise and the fancy department stores. You thought it was a point of endearment, but apparently not.

It’s been almost a year since you last saw him. He looks so unaffected it irks you.

“I broke up with you respectfully. Why are you mad?” he scratches his head.

It takes all your self-control to not slap him across the face.

“Because you hurt me! You’ve hurt me so…so…much.” your voice hitches before you can catch it. This is so humiliating. He’s clearly moved on from you.

Tears start pouring down your face. You quickly hide your eyes behind your coat.

“You’d eventually realize that I’m not right for you.” he murmurs, “We’re too different.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me.” you snap, clenching your fists, “So is this is it? To make you feel better you’re going to date a small town girl to solve all your problems.”

“Well, Kita did introduce me to someone lately.” he unironically replies, “She works in her family ryokan (inn) and we work similar hours. I think we’ll understand each other more than we did.”

Your eyes narrow.

“There’s no point staying in a relationship that I can’t make time for. Why can’t you understand that?” he snaps back.

It is one thing to be left for someone else and another for him to dump you just because. Somehow you feel like you lost even if you didn’t even have competition. He simply didn’t want you.

Your face contorts into an angry frown.

You slip on your coat and grab the door. “Man, you are a terrible ex. Do you know how it hurts when you tell me how wrong I was for you?”

When Osamu regains his cool, he tries to reach out to you, “I didn’t mean it that way…I didn’t feel good that I could make time for ‘ya and so I let the relationship go. Because i don’t know…—“

“Well, this is all just theory anyways.” he says, “I haven’t met Kita’s friend yet. We haven’t gone out yet, just the two of us.”

You do a double turn. “What?!?”

“Yeah, we’re working all the time but we haven’t made the time to meet.”

You break into a laugh. He stands stunned and confused.

“You know what? You stay behind. You left the last time. I want to be the one to leave this time.” you sigh, closing the door behind you.

You don’t turn back to see the look on his face.

————————————— Osamu mostly works in the countryside which means that you’d be less likely to run into each other in the city. It’s easier for you to keep your mind off him and focus on your current life.

So when you see him in the corner store in place of a small fried chicken stall you used to frequent, you’re visibly shocked, appalled even.

“What are you doing here?!” you jump back, “What happened to the fried chicken stall that was here?”

Osamu looks left and right, making sure no approaching customers can hear your dialogue.

“I run this stall now. Kawaneshi-san retired. It’s a great location. I’m literally in a crossroad between a shopping district and some schools. The rent isn’t too bad and it’s a very busy location.” he answers in his usual no nonsense tone.

You make a mental list not to pass by here again.

He recognizes the look on your face, “Have I just ruined your usual route for you?”

“I thought you were a country boy.” you avoid answering him.

“Even I need to make a living.” he snorts, carefully arranging umeboshi-flavored onigiri in his display case.

Sure! All of a sudden working in the city becomes important after he breaks up with you!

You roll your eyes and curtly walk away. You got here first. You love this city. You refuse to let some onigiri-making man ruin your everyday route.

The days roll into weeks. You stick to your route and diligently ignore Osamu each time. After a while it stops feeling weird that he’s there. You feel like you’re slowly taking pieces of yourself that he broke.

It feels so good to start to be whole again.

———————————— Your newfound peace with Osamu is interrupted when he calls you out of the blue one evening. He calls to tell you that he’s sick and that he needs help running groceries. The nerve!

“Don’t you have anyone else?” you groan. Hasn’t he made friends with some other shopkeepers?

“I have no one else. There’s only you.” he coughs through his words. He tries to explain that one of his few friends is out on bereavement.

You let it go. He clearly doesn’t have anyone for today.

You find out that Osamu lives in the apartment above his stall. The space is rather small. He shares his home with some of the equipment and supplies from his store.

He must hate it here. Osamu always loved wide open spaces.

You open the fridge to find it totally empty. His sink has a few empty bowls from his earlier rice porridges. You understand his desperation. He had nothing to eat.

Moved by his situation and the little compassion for him that remains in you, you sigh and begin chopping up some vegetables to make a nutritious broth. You add in some mushrooms and root crops. While the soup boils, you prepare rice and some pickles.

The faster he recovers, the less you have to interact with him.

When you bring him a tray of food in his room, he is equal parts surprised and confused.

“You can cook?” he clears his throat.

“No, Osamu.” you roll your eyes, “I eat all my food raw.”

He sits up and sniffs the aroma of your food through his clogged nose. He dips a spoon into the soup to sample his first meal of the day.

“I mean you can cook well, like a proper home cook.” he says, his eyes wide with awe. He quickly takes a few more sips and starts on his rice.

“I’ve never known.” he croaks, turning to you.

“You never asked,” you shrug, “And you like to do the cooking yourself. You probably assumed I can’t cook, because I’m not as passionate about food as you are.”

He quietly eats and looks away to confirm the truth in your statement.

You sigh and take a nearby basin with some towels in it. “I’ll leave after I bring the basin back.”

——————————————- Something changes in your relationship with Osamu after that incident. He starts to greet you when you walk by and sometimes offers you onigiri from his store.

You always insist on paying. He doesn’t always take it.

“You’re here to make a living.” you say as you push money into his hands.

In between these exchanges you start to ask about each other again. How are you doing? Was today busy? Stuff like that.

Slowly and surely, you two were rebuilding your relationship ground up. But it was tough. Neither of you went beyond these interactions. Maybe things are just meant to stay that way.

One late evening, the last customer for the day disappears out of Osamu’s line of sight when he heads into the back to start cleaning up. He’s about to start pulling down the rafters when you suddenly show up at his counter.

His face expresses his surprise.

“If it’s too late, I can just go.” you gesture sheepishly.

He’s always surprised when you come here on your own volition.

“It’s not,” he denies, “I was closing up too early anyways.”

You pick out your usual onigiri flavors and quickly pay up. As soon as you turn your back, Osamu stammers at you.

“I-I’m cooking up some stuff at the back. Do you want to stay and eat? Think of it as a return favor for the other week.” he refers to the episode of his sick day.

You’re caught off guard but you slowly nod your head to agree. You hadn’t had Osamu’s cooking in a while and it was getting quite late. He opens the door for you and you follow him towards the back of his shop.

In a messy plastic table, you see an array of salads and pickles with different kinds of miso soup laid out. You feel almost intrusive, even more than last week.

You set the table. Osamu fetches hot rice.

It feels unnecessary for you to be here especially if he is with someone else. You do your best to keep your mouth shut. This is a friendly return of favor.

Osamu notices how unusually quiet you are. He chats you up about work. He tries his best to be animated and show interest in your latest project. He asks about your coworkers and your work environment. Were you having fun? Do you get to eat on time?

For dessert, he brings out mochi wrapped in leaves.

“It’s made by the girl I was telling you about.” he remarks, while clearing the dishes.

“Oh,” your heart sinks. You get up and leave, feeling humiliated by your naivety. Of course he’s with her. You feel stupid for even hoping.

You’re about to walk out when he comes back in. “Apparently, she’s been secretly in a relationship with another chef in her family inn. They recently got married and are hoping to start a family soon. She sent these down to inform me. I suppose that solves the problem of having to see someone outside of work—”

He sees you standing. Confusion runs through his expression.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Just stretching…” you lie.

You want to shoot yourself in the foot in embarrassment.

When realization dawns on him, Osamu looks crestfallen. Any energy left in his body abandons him. He sighs, resigned.

“It’s ok if you want to go,” he nods, “Or if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

He bites his lip and looks down on his shoes. The room is still and pregnant with silence.

“I really am just stretching. My hip feels wonky from sitting all day.” you insist with some renewed energy. You grab hold of the pot on the table. “Also, can we get some more hot water? Tea would be nice with the mochi and it’s kind of gone cold.”

He offers to make another pot, relief evident on his face.

“I’ll go heat up the water.” he walks to the kettle, “Are you sure you want dessert?”

You sit back down.

“Yeah, I want to stay.” you murmur. For once you don’t go running to the door.

He glances at you, content, a small smile creeping on his face. ——————————————————

Atsumu, Osamu’s twin brother, always finds himself in his brother’s kitchen every time he visits. He doesn’t mind too much though. It gives them something to do when they catch up.

“Samu, you can’t still be moping around your ex!” Atsumu exclaims. He’s washing Osamu’s dishes as his brother prepares for their meal.

“I’m not ready to get back out there.” Osamu waves dismissively.

Atsumu flicks some water his way. “You’re just not open to seeing someone else.”

His words clearly prick Osamu who throws flour into his face. Atsumu dodges right on time and flicks some flour right back.

Some flour grazes Osamu’s sleeve. He sighs and dusts himself.

“It’s tough, because I’m working all the time. This job doesn’t pay too much and it’s not glamorous. Who’d wanna date someone like me?” he murmurs.

“That’s why you gotta date around to find out!” Atsumu emphasizes, “Maybe you’ll even find someone who might help you with your business when you get married.”

Osamu obstinately shakes his head. “It’s not as easy as you think.”

Atsumu dries his hand and carefully observes his brother. He puts his towel down onto the kitchen counter and raises his brow, “Or maybe I should just give you advice on getting back together.’

As if right on cue, Osamu slams his hand down onto the counter, “I hate that we still haven’t gotten back together. This is killing me!”

Atsumu chuckles in satisfaction. He’s hit the nail right on the head.

“Why has nothing happened yet? I’m already in the city!” Osamu continues on, “They can cook too! Did you know that?! I wish we can skip to the part where we can settle down.”

He vigorously gestures in frustration.

“I cannot! I just cannot move on until I know I’ve given everything to make this work and yet every time I see them all I do is offer them food!”

Atsumu places his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “You need to be more strategic about it. Here’s what you need to do…”

———————————————————————————

Osamu takes a deep breath before knocking at your door. He holds a bag of onigiri in one hand and whatever courage he has in another.

One knock, then another. He hasn’t been this nervous in a long while.

When you open the door, his ear picks up on a male voice inside your house. Combined with your expression, he realizes that he’s come at an inconvenient time.

“I brought you something.” he tries to smile despite the sweat pooling, “I made you lunch. I just wanted to make sure you were eating. We don’t have to talk. I just wanted to give this to you.”

He tries to look past your shoulder, attempting to glimpse at your guests.

“Are you seeing someone else by any chance?” he blurts out, “I want to clarify before I make any more free deliveries.”

You frown. “That’s none of your business, Osamu. You should leave.”

Your frankness pierces something within him. He hadn’t expected to be rejected so quickly.

Osamu’s eyes widen and his mouth drops. He quickly gathers himself before he gets disheartened.

“I want you to give me a second chance. You loved me so deeply. Maybe you can find love in me again.” he says quietly.

“I thought I was too much of a city girl for you,” you retort, despite lacking an edge in your voice. You notice his hands tightly clutching the plastic bag.

The noise at the back seems to melt away. It’s like you’re back in that party, standing too close to each other near the coat rack and the door.

“Maybe you’re not.” his shoulders gracefully go up and down.

You shook your head wryly, “Osamu, I haven’t changed. I like my job and the city. I’m not the life and business partner that you’re looking for. I’m just a customer and we should keep it that way.”

“I can stop if you like.” he offers meekly, putting his hands behind his back.

“Yeah, you should. You’ve hurt me so much.” you cover your mouth with your hands while you try not to sob, “There’s nothing to go back to.”

“I’m sorry I ended things the way I did.” he looks away, “Seeing you walk by me every day feels like penitence…“

You close the door before he says anymore.

Osamu gazes longingly at the door. It’s only now that the full weight of losing you sinks in.

—————————————— “How’d it go?” Atsumu calls to check on Osamu.

Osamu sucks in his breath, his palm pressed on his temple. Atsumu braces himself, this doesn’t sound good.

“They had someone else over.” Osamu is seething in frustration and angry tears.

“Calm down. Were they alone? Or was it a friend group?” Atsumu ’s mind races. He sifts through the situation in an attempt to placate his brother.

“Yeah? No? I don’t know.” Osamu snaps, “They told me she didn’t want to talk about it. Your advice sucks!”

Osamu walks most of the way home. When he catches sight of his store, he curses. He had left his damn bike at your apartment complex! The universe is not giving him any breaks today.

He sighs and continues towards his store. He had a friend watch it while he was away. He’ll have to come pick up after he closes the store.

Throughout the rest of the day, he tries to push you out of his mind. By the time he closes the store, he is bursting at the seams with anticipation to make his way back to your apartment.

Before he sets off, he sees your figure wheeling his bike towards him.

“You left your bike.” you breathe out. You fish something out of your pocket and toss him the key to his bike lock, “You left this in your lock too.”

“Every time you see me, I just look dumber and dumber.” he sighs in exasperation.

You can’t help but burst into laughter at his candidness. He perks up a bit. He hasn’t made you laugh in a while. Of course he’d rather have you laugh with him than at him. Still, this was a start right?

"Did Atsumu put you up to this?" you chuckle, handing the bike over.

“Yeah, how did you know?” he asks dumbfounded.

“I just do.” you scoff, “It’s not like you to show up on people’s doors.”

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry about that. It won’t happen again. It was a moment of weakness.”

Your eyes lower, framing the sad expression that sets into your face, “Yeah, it better not. I’ve moved on.”

You turn around to walk away. In a brief moment of courage, he cups his hands around his mouth.

“I’m not ready to move on from you and if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” he calls out.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi @holaaaf @glxar

Comment or message to be added to the taglist! I’m definitely making a part 2!

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

Text

Humans are Weird: Soldier without a war. Part I

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“You sure the speks don’t patrol there?”

“If they did do you really think I’d bring this rust bucket along for a job?”

Melp strapped himself into the copilot’s chair and looked over the console readings one last time. All systems were showing minimal operational capacity which normally would have been setting off alarm bells but with how things had been going for him and his captain lately it was the best they could ask for.

Melp was part of the salvage company “Outlying Star”, co-owner in fact with his partner and current captain Galem. When the war against humanity had started the two had thought it was the best idea to make a fortune with all the wrecks floating between star systems from fleet combat and had went all in on a converted freighter to pick through the bones and sell what they could.

At first Melp and Galem had made a killing, bringing in semi functional sub space drives and salvaged fully automated hard shell loaders from human ships. They made enough to fund a fleet of five ships and live the good life back on Valfha without a care in the world; for a little while at least.

Galem thought it was because of the government’s restrictions on salvageable items that had hampered their business but Melp believed it was because they were just too good at it that and had inspired countless others to take up the salvage game. Soon markets, both legal and black, became flooded with salvaged goods and people willing to undercut each other to make a quick buck. Neutron cannon went from 3.5 billion credits in value to just under 300 million credits in the span of six months. As a side effect of the sudden influx of salvage parts the government began taking notice and cracked down hard. Salvagers were called “Scavies” and deemed criminals by the government and the military would all too happily fire on any scavy ship they spotted. Seems they weren’t too happy about people rummaging through the wrecks of ships that once held their friends and the government would turn a blind eye if a scavy ship was destroyed during “Live Fire Exercises”.

Soon the jobs became even riskier and Outlying Star lost three ships after they were caught and destroyed. Another had to be sold for parts and salvage and now the final ship, the Morning Gale, was the last hope for Galem and Melp to make back some money.

“How do you even know this site hasn’t been picked clean already?” Melp asked over his shoulder as Galem entered the cockpit and locked the door behind him. “We could be wasting our time on a fantasy.” Galem shook his head which did little to ease Melp’s concerns.

“I got it from a reliable source that there was a big fight in the Glipi Cluster that we lost to the humans.” Galem began as he took the controls and slowly pulled back on the engine throttle as the ship ascended. “It was so embarrassing that the navy wiped all records of the battle and said the destroyed ships were lost in a freak transition from sub space into a rogue comet cluster.”

“If the data was wiped how does your source know about it?” Melp quipped as the ship breached upper atmosphere and exited the travel lanes for the jump point.

Galem smirked as he engaged the sub space drive.

“They were there.”

As the salvage ship exited sub space Melp let out a gasp. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes yet when he opened them all he could see was a shroud of purple. Galem saw Melp’s confused expression and chuckled.

“It’s the color of the gas filtering through this entire cluster.” He said calmly as he flicked on several scanners and filter units. “Try looking now.”

Melp looked again as the shades of purple faded away and let out a startled gasp. Upon gazing out of the cockpit window he could see why the navy had wanted to cover up this place so badly.

Floating around them were dozens of lifeless wrecks of Mibari warships ranging from light destroyers to several cruisers. Compared to their tiny ship it was as if Melp and Galem had entered the realm of giants. Melp was transfixed by the wrecks and became utterly enthralled when a massive shadow draped across their vessel.

“Is that what I think it is?” Melp spoke sheepishly as his blue hands trembled and changed to a soft orange color. Galem leaned forward in his seat to look out the window and whistled as his eyes caught sight of what had terrified Melp.

“A galaxy class troop carrier.”

The massive ship spun slowly in place like a top that refused to stop spinning, the metal interior exposed in several places from weapons revealing a dark interior of metal supports and long dead hallways. Melp looked towards the front of the ship as the command deck slowly spun into view and he was surprised to see the name of the ship had survived the damage it had taken.

“The Vault of Ohya…” Melp softly spoke. He reached out with an arm and shook Galem who was smiling like a hatchling on birthing day. “That’s the Vault of Ohya!”

“A piece of her hull to the right collector would be enough to refurbish this little dingy,” Galem said as he playfully smacked the command console, “into one hell of a floating casino.”

The two of them broke down into fits of laughter as if they had just been driven mad by their findings; but it was not of madness that now drove them but the sheer joy of their discovery.

These dozen ships floating lifelessly in the cluster were more than enough to bring the two of them back into the life of luxury they once held and keep them there until their dying days.

Melp was still star gazing at the shattered troop carrier when something else suddenly grabbed his attention.

“What’s that?”

Melp tore his gaze away from the Ohya and saw what Galem was looking at.

A new vessel slowly drifted out of the shadow of the troop carrier and came into view. It was clearly a human vessel of some kind; the lack luster design a clear give away. The body of the ship was missing sections of itself, but rather than appearing as if it had been damaged in the battle it looked more as if the ship had not finished being built. Sections of the body were lacking armor showing a complex network of pipes and corridors. The hull was painted in a soft grey color that stood out sharply among the ever shifting gas cloud surrounding it. Rows of gun ports ran along the sides, their openings revealing nothing of the pitch black interior giving them the appearance of small gaping mouths ready to consume Melp and his ship.

The more Melp looked at the ship the more he felt something was just wrong with it. Galem must have felt something as well as he pulled up the virtual display and began interacting with it.

“Not sure what that thing is but it’s not listed in the records.” He said as he closed the display and leaned over the controls to get a better view of it. The tingling feeling at the bottom of Melp’s three stomachs was starting to grow stronger as his uneasiness did not subside.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there’s no record of that ship variant from the entire war with humanity on any recorded file.” He popped open the virtual display again and flicked it over so it was hovering in front of Melp to view while he fiddled with the controls again. “Which means it’s worth a whole lot more than anything here.”

“How do you figure that?” As a response to Melp’s question he waved his arm across the scattered wrecks.

“Out of all the ships here the human ones are all clustered around that one as if they meant to protect it.” Galem said as he began moving the ship closer to the strange human ship.

“They could have bugged out and ran, but instead they all fought and died just to protect that thing; which means something on it must’ve been worth defending.”

Melp knew what Galem had some merit, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still very wrong; but before he could raise his concerns though a loud shudder ran through the scavenger ship.

“Get your suit on,” Galem said as he exited out of the cockpit, “let’s go find us some treasure.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If the exterior of the ship had uneased Melp, the interior down right terrified him.

No sooner had the airlock door opened the two scavengers leaped back in shock. Standing at the entrance was a humanoid looking figure. Galem screamed and grabbed hold of a nearby cutting tool and swung it at the figure before Melp could even say anything.

A shower of sparks eradiated off the figure’s body as the plasma torch cut into it, all the while Galem was continuing to scream, and cut a decent size hole through the beings torso.

“Shut it!” Melp shouted at Galem, forcing the scared halfwit to calm down some while Melp inched closer and retrieved the still burning plasma torch. The figure had not moved and inch even as the torch had melted away his exterior and as Melp moved closer still he noticed why.

“It’s an automated drone you idiot.”

Melp motioned him forward and the two of them inspected the machine.

It was human shaped but it was entirely of metal and wires, a mindless drone used for menial tasks such as inventory handling or maintenance. It wore a human uniform for some reason which clashed with its blank reflective visor face.

“Why’s it standing here?” Galem asked as he nervously tapped the drone. The touch pushed it off the ground and the dead drone slowly lifted off the ground in the zero-g environment and floated back into the ship, bouncing off the back wall before continuing to silently float away.

“Maybe it’s here to greet us?” Melp chuckled as he activated his mag locks and his feet latched on to the metallic floor. Galem followed suit and the two began entering the derelict ship.

“Can’t be,” Galem began as they reached the airlock secondary doors and began slowly opening them, “these tin cans would run out of power in a day and it’s been years since this tussle went down.”

With several loud grunts as the two strained with the manual release the inner airlock to the human ship finally cracked open. The two entered slowly, not knowing what to expect, and took stock of their surroundings.

They entered a long hallway that seemed to stretch out far into the distance passed the reach of their head lamps. Melp could see side corridors scattered every few dozen feet no doubt leading to other sections of the ship, but likewise they too were pitch black.

Something about Melp’s comment made him pull out his data scroll and do a quick scan. The device beeped rapidly as the scan commenced before ending with a loud “DING” and displaying a waterfall of information.

Melp read the data as the two continued to hover by the airlock entrance.

“It says here that somethings still giving off a power signature here.” Melp commented as he ran he scan again to be sure.

“Give it here,” Galem said as he turned to Melp with his hand outstretched, “you must be reading it-“

When Galem didn’t finish his sentence Melp looked up and saw something akin to a mixture of fear and surprise on his face. He was staring at something over his shoulder so Melp slowly turned in place , his magnetic feet latching heavily to the decking with each step like two magnets smashing together.

When he finally turned around he let out a yelp of surprise and tried to jump back, but his magnetic feet kept him firmly locked to the floor leaving him in an almost comical off balance state.

Standing directly behind him was another of the drones, this one dressed in what appeared to be some sort of security uniform even including an empty weapon holster at his side.

Neither of the scavengers knew how the thing got there as it most certainly hadn’t been standing there a moment ago. Before either of them could respond the drone’s visor lit up and displayed a pixelated face. The visor was damaged with a deep crack running the length of it making the display flicker in and out on half the screen giving it an eerily ghost like visage.

“The captain,” the drone began as it stepped to one side of the hallway and extended a hand into the darkness, “requests your presence on the bridge.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

act natural

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: sometimes, you just have to share the bed.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: fluff, sharing a bed, idiots in love, cheesy

a/n: this is really just an excuse for me to write a lot of self indulgent bants, but it’s also a part of @stargazingfangirl18’s soft!dark challenge, and i decided to write something soft and use the prompt of only having one bed! (p.s. i like did not edit this at all so if a few words are used a lot pls forgive me)

Dinner at the safehouse was finally wrapping up after a long day of getting your ass beat by an angry android and a few enhanced teenagers. You and everyone else around you seemed to be more than exhausted from the extensive day of revisiting deeply repressed traumas, and petty arguments between teammates over who was truly at fault for every predicament you found yourselves in.

You took a long and final swig from a beer bottle, glancing up to Bruce and Nat as they stood up and pushed in their chairs, retiring for the night.

“Thanks for hosting us, Laura,” Natasha offered, grabbing her plate from the dinner table, and dropping it off in the dishwasher.

“Of course, guys. Any time,” she gave a half smile to her friend, then looked back at the table, where everyone else had taken the memo, and found themselves somewhere in the process of leaving the table, or grabbing their dishes, “but before you all go, I wanted to warn you that someone else is gonna have to share a room tonight.”

You glanced over at Steve, who was on your left, and Tony, who was sat at the head of the table. You and Steve shared an awkward chuckle at the thought of being in the same bed, not even considering the similarly uncomfortable situation of sharing a bed with Tony.

“I think I’ll be rooming alone. These two lovebirds can share,” Tony chided before either of you even had a chance to think of a response. You looked back over at Steve, whose cheeks were currently dusted with a light shade of pink, and the bigger man quickly looked away from you.

“Tony, you know we are not- you know what, nevermind,” you huffed, deciding the argument was not worth it.

Tony shook his head as he dropped his dishes off in the dishwasher. “So no objections?” he asked teasingly, eyeing you both with a smirk on his way back from the kitchen. “Why am I not surprised?” You could’ve sworn you heard Clint and Fury laughing to themselves before excusing themselves from the table, and dispursting though the house.

Besides the slight humiliation of being teased for your situation, you weren’t too concerned about the act of spending the night, or next few nights with Steve. You and Steve were friends, or something like that. Just a few pals with crushes that you refused to admit to each other (or yourselves).

Pushing this thought aside, you grabbed the neck of your empty beer bottle, along with a few pieces of silverware and marched off to the mechanical cleaner yourself. You dropped off the things that needed to be cleaned, tossed your bottle in the recycling bin, then went to turn away when Steve grabbed your arm, automatically catching your attention.

“Is this okay with you?” He asked, letting his vice grip on your arm go.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you upstairs,” you muttered before speeding off, and heading upstairs where you strolled into the only vacant room, with the door wide open, and both your own and Steve’s duffle bags on the floor.

You made a mental note to thank whoever brought them in (probably Laura), and dug through your bag to find something even slightly comfortable to sleep in, eventually settling on an oversized shirt and your favorite cotton shorts.

You had just barely finished changing in the tiny closet when you heard the soft click of the room door, notifying you of Steve’s arrival. You slid open the closet door, and made a beeline for the bed, flopping onto the left side, and reaching for your phone as a distraction.

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” Steve asked, searching through his own bag until he found the only clean comfortable pair of pants he had in there, that just happened to be a jokey Christmas gift donned with a red white and blue color scheme, and graphics of mini shields on it.

“What the hell, Steve. Of course not,” you set your phone down so that you could get a better look at him. “We probably have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” You could live with that excuse, especially considering that it would not be very becoming of you to tell your crush that missing an opportunity to sleep in the same bed as him feels like a federal crime.

He stood up from his squatting position, squeezing into the tight space of the closet so that he could change into the corny pants, and finally get out of his clothes from the day, “I just didn’t want to make things weird.”

“Well, they won’t be as long as you stay on your side, okay?” You said petulantly, setting two pillows across the middle of the queen sized bed and attempting to ignore the excited butterflies in your stomach.

“I will,” Steve responded, exiting the closet slipping into the right side of the bed cautiously, and looking at the wall that was facing him.

You glanced over at Steve, and when you caught wind of his shirtless torso, you couldn’t help but to look away with a warm face,“this is so awkward now,” you said after a beat. “Why couldn’t you have roomed with Tony?”

“Tony is the worst bed mate ever. Total blanket and pillow hog,” Steve chuckled, attempting to ease up some of the tension.

“You’re no saint either. I’ve heard you’re a cuddler,” you bantered back, allowing yourself one more glance at the man. Steve seemed to be having the same thought as you at the same time as you, as your eyes briefly met.

It was uncomfortably silent in the room once more, and you reached over to your nightstand to turn off the bedside lamp, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Steve,” you turned your back to the border of pillows, fell into a fetal position, and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that you’d be able to find some sort of peace after such a bizarre day. You tried not to dwell so much on the horrors you’d been forced to face earlier, and instead relied on the rhythmic breathing coming from the man next to you to ground you.

----

You weren’t sure when exactly you fell asleep, but a jolting of your bed, and a bit of a commotion coming from somewhere in your room pulled you away from your unsettling dreams.

Blinking yourself awake, you uncurled your body, and rolled over to look at Steve, whose legs were thrown over the edge of the bed while he panted heavily.

“Steve?” you slurred sleepily, “you ‘kay?”

“’m fine,” he yawned.

“Well you woke me up,” you mumbled, throwing your head back against a pillow.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was having a shitty dream anyway.”

“Really? I was too,” Steve refused to look at you, staring blankly at the wall.

“So tell me about it,” you hummed.

“It’s just… I keep thinking about how I missed out on so many things from the past. I could’ve been happy, living out my days in a semi-peaceful and familiar world. Not anything like this.”

You sat up as you listened, pushing aside a pillow from the border you’d constructed to move closer to Steve and set a reassuring hand on his back.

“I guess I just wish that I was there. With everyone and everything I used to know.”

“But it’s not all bad, right?” you offered, and Steve shrugged before looking down.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I know that I’ll never truly understand that, but there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. You’re here now, and you have no other choice but to make the best of it. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but if you spend all of your time in the present lamenting about what things could’ve been in the past, you’re just gonna be miserable forever,” you rambled sleepily, words slurring occasionally.

“Your experience is so unique, so I could be getting this all wrong, but there are plenty of good things here in the now. I mean, a world without the internet? I don’t know if that’s a world worth living in,” you chuckled softly, and were joined in your quiet laughter by the man on the other side of your bed.

“Seriously, though. I know you can’t control your dreams, but maybe your subconscious is letting you know that it’s okay to let go. Of like, the past. It might just be time for you to move on and be happy. I’m sure that Peggy and everyone else from your past would’ve wanted that for you too.” In the dark, you saw the silhouette of Steve’s head nodding.

“You always know what to say, huh?” he asked, kicking his legs back over onto the bed while you scooted back over into your previous space.

“I’m like half asleep right now, Steve. If you asked me to repeat half of what I just said, I would not know what to say,” you giggled.

“You wanna talk about your dream?” Steve asked in a concerned tone.

“Mmm, I actually just wanna go to sleep. As crazy as that may sound,”

“Is there anything that I can do to help you not have another bad one?”

“Hmmm,” you pondered, becoming a bit more lethargic by the moment. “Spoon me?”

“As you wish,” Steve happily obliged, grabbing one of the pillows from the middle of the bed and adding it to his stash of pillows.

You threw a pillow from the border between your knees, and received a strange look from Steve. “What? I heard it’s good for your back.” He still didn’t seem convinced. “Stop being so judgy and cuddle me already,” you murmured, turning your body so that you could lay on your side.

Steve scooted closer to you, and you pressed your back to the front of his chest. He tossed an arm over you and somehow managed to pull you even closer to him. You swore you hadn’t been this comfortable since you left the womb, and you nearly purred in response.

“Can I make a request?” he asked.

You simply nodded.

“Can we just… talk until we fall back asleep?”

“That’s really cute,” you mumbled into your pillow.

“You just have a relaxing voice!” he defended playfully.

“You are such a dork,” you giggled. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Just tell me about… I dunno, anything.”

“That was so helpful, Steven.”

“My bad. Tell me about your favorite… mission?”

“Mm, probably that one time you and I had to go undercover for like a month to bust that arms dealer.”

“Which one?”

“Some dude in the Midwest. Can’t remember his name.”

“Oh yeah, yeah I know who you’re talking about.”

“It was fun being your life partner for a month. We were really good at being domestic.”

“Hmm, now that I think about it, we really were. Do you remember that cookout?”

“Of course I do,” you laughed at the memory. “Everyone else was getting so drunk, but you just… couldn’t. They were like Joseph, you’re such a beast, and shit. And who would’ve guessed that you, the old timer would be such a beast on the grill.”

“Well, who would’ve guessed that you were so good at cornhole?”

“Was I really that good? Or were you just really bad? Like really bad, especially for someone whose skill set revolves around having good aim,” you teased.

Steve scoffed and laughed, shaking his head at you.

“How didn’t those people recognize us? I just don’t get it.”

“You’d be surprised how much a beard and dyed hair can change your look.”

“I guess,” you sighed softly, and set a hand on top of Steve’s. “Does this feel counterproductive to you? We’re just sitting here giggling. We’re probably getting less tired.”

“I guess I am less tired. But I’m also not thinking about the impending robot apocalypse.”

“Well now that you brought it up, I’m thinking about the impending robot apocalypse. You better fix this, Rogers.” Emboldened by what must’ve been the butterflies in your stomach falling asleep, you began to roll a bit in his arms so you were facing each other, kicking away the pillow between your legs in the process.

“How can I make it up to you?” Steve asked, raising a brow.

“You’re the man with a plan, right? Think of something,” your lip quirked slightly in a smirk.

Steve leaned in just the smallest amount, before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head. “I got it. We can do one of those one word stories until we fall asleep.”

Well, that’s not exactly how you thought this moment was going to go.

“Okay, I’ll start then,” you nodded, pressing your head down against a soft pillow, and looking up at Steve, “once.”

“There,” Steve added.

“Was.”

“A.”

“Death-bot,” you giggled.

“Okay, Y/N. No. No more stories. We can just listen to each other breathe now until we fall asleep like before since you wanna ruin the mood.”

“What mood? And you listened to me breathe?”

“What else was I gonna listen to?” he furrowed his brows, “it’s too late for this anyway. We can talk in the morning.”

“All you had to do was tell me that it’s way past your bedtime, and I would be understanding. But goodnight anyway, Stevie,” you cracked him one last smile, not budging from your position as you closed your eyes.

It was silent for a few minutes before Steve whispered up out of the blue, “you still awake?”

You slurred something into the pillow, much more asleep than awake.

“Well, I really like you a lot. Maybe one day I’ll get the guts to tell you that when you’re not completely out of it.”

You grunted as a response, and Steve couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face, not while he was falling asleep, and certainly not during his rather pleasant dreams.

——

You just couldn’t seem to catch a break with your wake up calls. While you and Steve seemed to sleep through the rapping against the door, and the door itself opening, you both seemed to become aware after the artificial shutter of an iPhone camera flooded through your ears.

“You guys just looked so cute, I wanted to archive this moment for the rest of time. And I’m sure the team will be glad to see that you got along well last night,” Nat teased as your eyes widened and you shot up. “Breakfast is ready downstairs, by the way.”

Well, you two were going to have a great time explaining this one.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #avengers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

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starlight-loki · 3 years

Text

Precautionary Surveillance (Loki x Reader)

Or, That Time You and Loki Became Friends

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: none :)

A/N: this is platonic (and gender neutral! :D )

As this is my first imagine, I kind of just wanted to establish how the reader first meets Loki, but I’ve got plenty more fluff in the works! ;)

also this takes place post-Ragnarok, but Infinity War doesn’t exist here, shHHHH

Despite the long list of risks and expectations that came with living with the Avengers in their compound, you never thought that babysitting Loki would be included. And yet, a mere two weeks after having moved into the compound, Tony sheepishly approached you with the news.

He didn’t word-for-word call it ‘babysitting’ of course, but you knew it was definitely implied.

“Think of it as... precautionary surveillance.” Tony had explained to you that morning as he packed a small backpack, supposedly containing enough supplies to last for a week-long mission. “Or if that’s too much, just be normal roommates. But check in on him every few hours. Make sure he’s not destroying anything. And don’t let him go out. Or to my lab. Or Bruce’s. Or the roof-”

“Okay, I get it Tony,” you rolled your eyes as you heaved out a sigh. “You want me to babysit Loki.”

Tony shrugged, and patted your shoulder empathetically before zipping up his backpack. “Your words, kid. Not mine. Like I said, it’s just precautionary surveillance, we’ll be back before you know it.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t just bring him along with you!” You protested, throwing your hands up in the air. “His fighting skills and abilities would be really useful for your mission, you know that right?”

You were fine with the fact that Tony and Steve weren’t confident enough in your fighting abilities to bring you along on missions just yet -- frankly, you were completely happy staying behind and burying your nose in a book. But now Tony wanted you to babysit Loki, going so far as asking you to log any ‘suspicious activity’ from the god. You thought the entire thing was ridiculous.

“You know why, Y/N.” Tony began sternly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and starting towards the quinjet hangar. He was walking briskly, and you scowled as you had to practically run after him. “The New York Incident? The two-hundred or so times he’s betrayed Thor? That time he stuck his dad in an old folks home here and just paraded around Asgard in disguise for two years?”

“New York was nearly ten years ago!” You protested. “Look at him now, all he does is putter around the compound in sweatpants because you won’t let him out-”

Tony sighed loudly, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Look, I know you’re new here and you mean well, but we don’t trust him Y/N. Thor dragged him here because Asgard’s gone and there’s nowhere else for them to go, but Loki is not one of us. It’s going to be a damn long time before any of us think anything different of him.”

You glowered at Tony, fighting the tiny glow of anger that sparked in your heart when you heard him talk about Loki like that.

You had stolen glances at Loki last week when he thought no one else was looking, and you knew he was far from the dysfunctional maniac who tried to take over New York all those years ago. Sure, the dysfunctional part may still remain, but he was far from a maniac -- you could see that in his features when he sat on the couch alone that day, flipping through a small worn book.

He looked... lost. Empty almost, as if any possibility of a joyful life had been stripped from him. It hurt your heart to see someone sit with their own melancholy the way Loki did. The fact that no one else in the Compound trusted him -- evident from the fact that you were being put on babysitting duty this instant -- didn’t make things any better.

“Take care of yourself, kid.” Tony said, pulling you in for a fairly awkward one-armed hug. “Keep an eye on Loki, but don’t do anything stupid.”

You frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Just... keep your distance from him.”

Tony’s words brought the image of Loki sitting alone in sadness back to the front of your mind, and you decided right then and there that you were going to do exactly the opposite of what Tony was suggesting.

The first day felt like an eternity. Loki remained in his room with the door shut, and with no one else to chat with and pass the time, time seemed to crawl at an eerily slow pace.

You made pasta for dinner. You figured the sound of pots, pans, and kitchen utensils clanging every now and then as you cooked would summon the lonely Asgardian out of his room to eat at the very least, and you couldn’t help the little sting of disappointment that appeared when you finished your meal as alone as you had been earlier.

After placing your own bowl in the sink, you grabbed Loki’s portion you had set aside and padded down the hall to his room. You tried to ignore the slight tremble in your hand as you knocked on his door.

“Loki?” You asked gently. “You there?”

You were greeted with a faint shuffling noise, but otherwise there was nothing but silence.

“I made you dinner. I haven’t seen you all day, you must be hungry... um... I mean, you don’t have to eat of course if you don’t want to, but I’ll just... I’ll leave this here at your door if you want it. No pressure.”

You felt fire rush to your cheeks as you cursed yourself silently for rambling, and carefully set the bowl of pasta on the floor.

“If you want anything,” you added quickly in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper. “More food, tea, some company... I’m in the other room.”

You stood frozen at Loki’s door for a moment, waiting for any sort of response. Earning nothing but more silence, you nodded to yourself before turning on your heel and heading back for the kitchen.

You looked back over your shoulder before you rounded the corner at the end of the hall, and the pasta bowl was gone. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

The second and third day passed much like the first. If it weren’t for the fact that Loki was constantly on your mind, it would’ve felt like you had the entire place to yourself. You would have enjoyed the quiet, but there was a part of you that couldn’t stop worrying about Loki.

After the god failed to leave his room once again, you brought dinner to his door which was hastily accompanied by another short little babble of an invitation to join you in the living room if he wished. Just like day one, you were greeted with silence and a meal that vanished out of the hall just before you turned the corner.

On the fourth day, you couldn’t get Loki out of your head no matter how hard you tried. Was he lonely? Bored? Did he sleep the entire day? Did he even sleep at all? The rooms in the Compound were just about the same: spacious, yet minimal in decoration. Everyone got a TV and a small bookshelf in the corner, but that was about it. Judging by the fact that Tony and the rest of the Avengers weren’t allowing Loki to leave the Compound, you figured he probably didn’t have much for entertainment.

Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you dashed off to your beloved little bookstore in the city. You ransacked the shelves for anything you felt Loki would’ve liked, as well as books you adored and would’ve wholeheartedly recommended to anyone else. If Loki was going to spend all day in his room, he deserved to have new books to keep him company, at the very least.

Two hours later you returned home, your shoulder aching from the countless books that were weighing you down in the best way, and to your surprise you found Loki with his back to you in the kitchen.

Was he... doing the dishes for you?

You dropped your tote bag of books to the ground in surprise, and Loki flinched almost imperceptibly at the dull thud that echoed throughout the open space of the Compound.

“Hi,” You managed breathlessly as the god turned and looked at you with wide eyes for the briefest second. You blinked, and just like that Loki had regained his cool composure. “You’ve finally come out of your room.”

Loki opened his mouth to reply, his eyes scanning the room as he searched for an excuse. After a moment of silence, he sighed.

“Thank you for the meals. I appreciate it.”

You took off your coat and hung it on the chair as you approached him. Your heart sank ever so slightly as you caught Loki take the smallest step back.

“Of course, I mean... we all gotta eat right?” You laughed quietly and looked away as you ran a hand through your hair. “You don’t have to clean up, I can do that.”

“It was the least I could do in return.”

The silence that grew between the two of you seemed to amplify with every passing second. Loki nodded, almost out of resignation, and began to walk back to his room without a word.

Now was your chance, if you wanted to make him feel welcome like you had hoped to.

“Wait!” Your voice came out more as a squeak and you tried your best to ignore the fire that rose to your cheeks. “I, uh, I got these for you.”

As you bent down to retrieve your fallen bag of books, you heard quiet careful steps as Loki approached you cautiously. He kept his distance, but leaned a little closer to you as you began laying all the books out on the table for him to see.

“I picked out a few books I’ve read and love dearly. I figured you could give them a try. And... I, uh, saw you reading Shakespeare last week, so I thought you might like these two.” You gestured to the novels closest to him. “They’re Ancient Greek tragedies.”

You glanced at Loki, and noticed how he picked up Oedipus Rex and began flipping through the pages carefully, as if the book were to vanish from his hands at any moment.

“I’ve never read this one before,” Loki mused quietly. Your heart skipped a beat as his steady gaze moved to meet your eyes. “When would you like me to return these to you?”

You blinked in surprise. “They’re for you to keep.” You smiled. “I bought them for you.”

You watched as gratitude, then confusion, then what almost looked shame flash across Loki’s features. He almost seem to clutch the book tighter in his grip.

“...Why?”

You pulled out the chair that you were leaning against and sat down with a sigh as you looked up at Loki.

“I don’t like how everyone’s been treating you.” You admitted quietly.

“So this is out of pity?” Loki asked cooly, nodding at the books on the table with narrowed eyes.

“No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head rapidly. “No, Loki, that wasn’t my intention at all. I mean, I’ve only been here two weeks and I could see immediately that everyone keeps their distance from you. You’re not allowed on missions-”

“Neither are you.” Loki cut in. You dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

“Yeah, but I’m the weakest link at the moment. I don’t count.” You replied quickly, trying your best to ignore the intrigue on Loki’s face as he gazed at you. “I saw you last week, reading your book. You looked so lonely. I thought maybe you just wanted some space, but I’ve noticed how the others treat you. Tony and everyone else, they leave you out of everything! They don’t try to include you in conversations at dinner, you wear the same two pairs of clothes everyday because no one’s bothered to get you any decent clothes besides sweatpants. Hell, Tony kept me off this mission to babysit you and it makes me so mad! You’re an adult! You deserve your own freedom, Loki!”

You slammed your hand down on the table in frustration, and winced as your words replayed in your head. You definitely went overboard this time. You should’ve just given Loki the books and left.

You were certain Loki was going to retreat back to his room as he moved away from you and around the table, but to your surprise, he sat down in the chair across from you, his hands clasped carefully together.

“Perhaps Stark is right, this is what I deserve.” He said quietly, breaking the silence that resided between the two of you. “I haven’t exactly been... welcoming to anyone.”

You shook your head. “You lost Asgard, your family... Thor brought you here with the intention of this being your new home. The least everyone could is treat you like a person, not a hostage. This isn’t a prison. You deserve so much more than that.”

“They don’t want me around.” Loki said simply.

“I do.” You held his gaze unwaveringly, and reached out to place your hand gently over his. To your surprise, he didn’t pull away. “I want you around. You matter to me.”

Loki sighed, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second as he took in your words.

“Thank you.” He spoke slowly. “Your words -- and your actions -- mean more than anything Stark or anyone else has done in the time I’ve been here.”

You smiled in response, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before pushing his books towards him.

“You’ve got plenty of things to do while you’re in your room now.” You grinned nodding towards the books on the table. Anyone else would’ve missed it, but you caught Loki return your smirk for a split second.

“I think I would prefer to read my books out here... with company.”

The following day was nothing like the others. To your surprise, Loki greeted you with a small smile from his spot on the couch as you trudged bleary-eyed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“You look tired.” He remarked quietly as you began searching the cupboards for something to eat. You managed a shrug.

“I don’t sleep that great most nights.” You admitted. You heard Loki get up from the couch, setting his book down on the coffee table gently before approaching you. He still kept some distance -- the kitchen counter did a good job of separating the two of you -- but he leaned in, almost grateful to be in the presence of someone who truly saw him.

“Me neither.” Loki chuckled. “Thor sleeps like the dead, but I rarely sleep well. That’s how my love for books began, actually.”

“Me too!” You exclaimed excitedly. “I’d stay up reading till 1 or 2 AM some nights as a kid. I’d have to use a flashlight and hide under the covers so I wouldn’t wake anyone up.”

That earned a genuine laugh from Loki, whose smile suddenly began to look like sunshine in your eyes.

“I used magic to see in the dark, but hiding under the covers was the only way I could read at night without waking Thor up.”

“You shared a room with Thor?”

Loki nodded, scoffing a little. “My mother thought it would help reinforce our bond as brothers. A lot of good that did.”

You leaned in towards him, your posture mirroring his as you rested your arms against the kitchen counter.

“Thor still loves you.” You said quietly, a small smile touching your lips for a brief moment. Loki rolled his eyes.

“Sure he does.”

“No, really. He wouldn’t have brought you here to live with him if he didn’t. You guys got here before me of course, but I’m sure he had to pull a lot of strings to get Tony to agree to have you live in the Compound.”

There was that silence again, like the day before, settling down gently between the two of you. You lowered your gaze to your hands.

“Sorry. I meddle too much. I should stop.”

This time, it was Loki who placed his hands over yours gently.

“No,” he replied softly. “You speak your mind, I admire that. It shows you have strength.”

“I don’t always feel strong.” You admitted quietly.

“Only the foolish admit their own strength.” Loki whispered.

“...Does that mean Tony’s a fool?”

“Your words, not mine.”

A laugh bubbled up out of you at Loki’s words, and as your eyes met his, you noticed the loneliness you had seen before was gone.

In their place was the warmth of a thousand suns.

The two of you stood there, hands intertwined almost as if to keep the other afloat. Loki’s hands made yours seem small, but his were warm and soft and surprisingly gentle.

You closed you eyes, taking as much of this moment in as you could.

“I wish they’d let you outside.” You sighed quietly. “There’s so many shops and restaurants I think you’d like. You’d love Central Park, too.”

Loki frowned. “When is everyone due back?”

“In two days. Why?”

You got a smirk in response. “Let’s go now.”

You let out a surprised laugh at Loki’s suggestion. It thrilled you to see this side of him.

“We can’t! Tony’s got cameras around the building, he’ll see us if we leave.”

Butterflies filled your insides for a brief moment as Loki suddenly winked at you. He raised his hand, which had begun to glow with a green hue, before snapping his fingers. Green sparks flashed briefly from the windows as he did so.

“I believe Stark will be needing to replace his cameras once everyone returns. Where do you suggest we go first?”

#loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki hc #loki headcanon #the avengers #tony stark #platonic #loki x gender neutral reader #loki oneshot #marvel imagine #mcu loki #the avengers imagine #thor ragnarok

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

Text

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.6

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

ch.5 - ch.7 (finale)

~~~~~~~~~~

The air was still quite nippy and crisp, but the afternoon sun sparkled on the white snow and made the atmosphere pleasant to stand in if the Main Sequence Star was shining directly on a living organism, like it was on Stan from where he stood on the porch. He sighed tiredly as he dug into his hoodie’s pocket for a fresh cigar and lit it with his Zippo-style lighter. He knew he probably shouldn’t smoke with a kid in the house, but after the few days he’s had, he needed and had well earned a smoke-break.

The door opened and Stan hid his cigar by his side, his right arm glued to his hip to hide the newcomer on his left, but when he saw it was an adult, he relaxed and took another puff. “M’trying to quit.” He mumbled.

Ford snickered. “Yeah, it looks like you’re trying really hard.”

“Don’t be shitty.” Stan said casually.

“Mind if I lend one? I can replenish you in a few minutes.”

Stan stared at his goody two-shoes of a twin and handed him a cigar and the lighter. “You smoke?”

“Not often. For a celebration or after a long day.” Ford answered as he lit his borrowed cigar. “Maybe twice a month. Thrice?”

“Huh.”

Ford looked down at the lighter in his hand, and he was surprised when he recognized it. He can clearly remember seeing the tiny silver box in a store and thinking Stanley would like it as a Only One More Year of High-School present. “I gave this to you.”

Stan smiled as he took it back and pocketed it. “Yeah, it’s a good lighter. Only needed to change the flint a few times.”

“Hey guys!” A small voice called from inside the house. “Do you like vanilla or chocolate?”

The twins looked at each other, smiled, and called back. “Both. Both is good!”

“Both it is!”

Stan chuckled and shook his head. “Knucklehead… I knew she had to be family just by looking at her!” He bragged proudly.

“I suppose I was too distracted by the fact that a cold girl was at my doorstep to recognize the family resemblance.” Ford reasoned, shrugging. “I wanted to make sure I did the right thing. I didn’t exactly feel like getting arrested for kidnapping.”

Stan barked a laugh. “Yeah, you got a good point.” The conman yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Guess I’ll head out tomorrow.” He mentioned offhandedly.

Ford stared at him, a little saddened and disheartened by this fact that was news to him. “You’re leaving?”

“I mean, yeah?” Stan equally stared at his brother, confused and not daring to be hopeful, but still. “What?”

“I just…” Ford hesitated and busied his mouth by taking a hit of his cigar. With everything that has been said and how well he and Stan have been communicating, he really didn’t feel like ruining it now. He relaxed his shoulders and said with his eyes on the snowy woods. “I was really hoping you would stay.”

Stan looked dumbfounded, like a child discovering candy for the first time, but he looked away and down at the porch floor. “Oh.”

“I’ll of course be taking care of Mabel until Dipper comes back in time for her…”

“He might not.”

“We got over our grudges. They can do the same.” Ford said firmly. “Still, you have a point. Dipper might not be able to come back. Regardless, whether it’s for a short time, a long time, or for the rest of my life, I will take care of her. I might not be the best for her, I can acknowledge that…”

“C’mon, Sixer, don’t be like that.” Stan scolded lightly, giving a sympathetic look to the nerd. “What else can you do, y’know? There’s no way in hell you’re gonna give her up, I’ll kidnap her and run away to Canada before I let you…”

Ford laughed and waved a hand as he smiled. “No no, I promise I won’t.”

“Good.”

“The point is, she loves you. Clearly. And it takes two, and I’ll be busy with my research, especially once the snow melts and the anomalies become more active in the spring and summer, but…” Ford bit his lip. This was a bad idea. If he makes it seem that the only reason why Stan needs to be here is because of Mabel, if or when she’s gone, then Stan will have no reason to stay. And there were many reasons why Ford wanted Stan to stay.

Despite how much of a social-cripple Ford was, he knew that Stan was homeless. His frequent traveling and how full his car was right now was enough proof of that. And Ford hated that for his brother.

But there was another, bigger reason why Ford wanted Stan to stay. So he better just say it.

“Do you know why I went to Backupsmore?” Ford asked.

Stan’s facial expression darkened as he looked away and he shrugged. “Cuz I fucked up your project?”

“No,” Ford answered plainly. “I may not have been accepted into West Coast Tech, but there were so many other colleges that wanted me. I could apply to Yale or Harvard or any college from New York to California and instantly be accepted.

“But I didn’t.” The author added grimly. “Stanley, when you left… When you were gone, I was a mess. So many days I just lied in bed without meals or sleep. Ma was hysterical. I failed most of my exams and only barely scraped a C in the ones I didn’t fail. My GPA dropped significantly and I even lost my Honor Roll. Thankfully my past grades were enough to let me graduate with a 3.2, but my clean record was stained and a lot of prestigious colleges didn’t want me.

“All I wanted at that point was to get as far away from Glass Shard as possible. Luckily there was a small college outside of San Francisco that practically accepted everyone and had a wide range of studies to offer, so I applied and was accepted by graduation day.”

“Good for you.” Stan grunted.

“No! The point is, I…” Ford groaned, feeling like he was failing, but he had to try. “I understand if you don’t want to stay. I understand you have your own life and things you want to do, and I can live without you again if I have to, but… I really, really don’t want to. Yes, I know that part of growing up is going in different directions and being independent and all the other bells and whistles, but it doesn’t have to be. So, if you can tolerate living under the same roof as me again, and if you’re okay with it, I want to offer you a job.”

Stan raised an eyebrow at the six-fingered man. “What kinda job?”

“The committee gives me monthly boosts so I can continue my research. As long as I prove to them once a year that progress is being made, I have a good income coming in. It is a big job, exploring the large woods, climbing mountains and waterfalls, combing the lake, mapping the Enchanted Forest, and hunting down monsters and anomalies to learn more about them. I’ve always managed to make it out of trouble alright, but… I need a partner, and I want to keep it in the family.” Ford smiled at the last sentence.

“What are you saying?” Stan sneered, not daring to believe, not daring to hope, but that stupid smile Ford had…

“I’m saying I want you to do this with me, Stanley.” Ford said matter-of-factly. “I can share the grant with you after bills are paid and groceries are purchased. We can renovate the small room on the ground floor to be Mabel’s bedroom and you can have the entire attic as your own space.

“I know it’s not sailing around the world, but… Please. Will you give me another chance?” Ford pleaded with a soft smile.

Stan grinned and shook his head. “Shit, Sixer, you’re a better salesman than me.” He looked him in the eyes. “Okay. Yes. I’ll stay.”

Ford’s cheeks puffed with happiness as he smiled, his lips pressed together, and he looked ahead, happily daydreaming his future. Being surrounded by weirdness for a living was amazing by itself; doing it with his twin and raising their niece together on top of it was better than anything he could have imagined.

Stan was watching him and laughed good-naturedly, then held out a hand to him. Ford blinked at it like a startled owl, but then returned the smile and sealed the deal with a high-six.

Both brothers stood contently outside with their cigars for a minute, but then heard a bowl clatter on the floor. Mabel must be making a mess in the kitchen, which was fine.

What wasn’t fine was the sound that followed of a body falling on the floor.

Ford raised an eyebrow and called calmly, “Mabel, are you alright?”

They both expected a quick “yeah, sorry, I’m okay,” and maybe an explanation to follow, like she tripped getting down from a chair or something. But there was no reply.

“Mabel, sweetie?” Stan hollered, trying not to sound mad or scared or anything but cool-under-pressure, but this voice trembled with fear.

Still no answer.

Ford and Stan quickly discarded their cigars and bolted inside. Racing like children for cookies, they soon stood at the doorway of the kitchen and were horrified to find Mabel sprawled on the floor on her front, her hair scattered over her face to hide her expression, and her legs and bottom-half of her body slowly fading.

Literally. Fading. Mabel was fading away. She was disappearing like a stain on cloth.

“MABEL!” The men screamed and were immediately on their knees beside her. Ford scooped her up into his arms and felt her pulse and looked over her.

“What happened to her?!” Stan cried out. “Pumpkin, what’s wrong?!”

Ford’s eyes widened in panic as a horrifying realization slapped him in the face. “Mabel… You changed history.”

The tired girl nodded with her eyes closed. “If… If you guys had a fight… and never made up… in my timeline, then I guess…” Mabel paused to yawn tiredly. It didn’t hurt, but she was really sleepy now.“I guess that timeline doesn’t exist anymore, huh? I guess I don’t exist anymore.”

“WHAT?!” Stan yelled and took Mabel’s hand and squeezed it. “We have to do something! You’re family! You’re… We can’t just let you d- not exist!”

Ford held Mabel tighter and closer to his warm chest, making her smile. She swore she could hear his heartbeat. It was too fast. She would have to fix that. Poor Ford was also shaking like a leaf. Mabel could fix that, too.

“I’ll exist.” She smiled up at her uncles. “In a few years.”

Ford bit his lip. He shouldn’t ask this, it was probably dangerous to learn about the future, but the worst was already happening. What else could possibly happen that was worse than losing his girl? Ford couldn’t help but ask, “When?”

“August 31st, 1999.” Mabel’s eyes dazzled. “You’ll meet Dipper, too.” She shifted her eyes to only Stan and whispered, “Did you know you were there? You came to see us when we were born?”

Stan’s eyes watered as he smiled at the new piece of information. “I did?”

“You did. I came out first. You were so proud when I kicked the doctor in the jaw.”

Stan made a watery chuckle and wiped at his eye. “That’s my girl.”

“Dipper came next. He was blue. Umbilical cord wrapped around his neck.”

“Was he okay?” Stan asked.

“He was fine. You knew he would be. You never doubted.”

“I never will, pumpkin. I swear.”

The fading is now much worse. It was spreading over Mabel like a virus. Her legs were hardly visible to the naked eye, and even her shoulders were losing color. This Mabel is almost completely gone.

Ford, pressed for time, bit his lip as tears flooded his eyes and he cupped Mabel’s cheek and cradled her. “I… I can’t let you go! We just started to become a real family! Wh-What am I going to do without you?!”

Mabel smiled and used the free hand not holding Stan’s trembling hand to caress Ford’s jaw and lower cheek, then cupping his face so her fingertips grazed his sideburn. “It’s okay, really. I’ll see you again, and next time it’ll be when both of you come to see us. Totally worth it.”

Ford held his breath, and shut his eyes, a tear escaping from each eye and sitting comfortably in the corners of his windows to his soul. Stan hiccuped a laugh and rubbed her hand between both of his. Both of them were doing everything in their power not to cry.

To that, Mabel laughed and said, “Boys are stupid. It’s okay to cry.”

The cursed power of Mabel. Making people be honest and breaking dams.

Ford curled into his niece, his face sloe to her heart, and cried gently. He wasn’t ready, but he didn’t think he could ever be ready for this.

Stan laughed with tears streaming down his face and he kissed Mabel’s tiny fingers trapped in his hold, then held their hands close to his bowed forehead and just focused on feeling her pulse between his palms.

It only lasted another minute.

Ford was mortified when his chest sank and his arms were empty. He threw himself back and stared at his lap and felt sick to his stomach to find his little girl missing.

Stan’s hands also clasped together and he squeezed tightly, his fists against his trembling lips as he cried.

The genius who always seemed to know what to do didn’t have a damn clue what to do with himself. He growled in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, then let out a painful howl and moan that most definitely disturbed birds and made a deer or two gallop farther away.

Ford removed his glasses and held his knees, sobbing his heart out. Stan blinked his tears off his eyes, resulting in them rolling down his face, as he watched his brother completely shatter to pieces. He had seen him upset before, sure; all those years of bullying, of Pa’s outbursts and sometimes physical punishments, hopelessness that he was actually worth something. You don’t spend seventeen years with a person and not see them break every so often, granted the blessing to help them put themselves back together again.

But Ford didn’t need Stan to swoop in and fix it. There were no bullies to punch or parents to stand against or jokes to crack that would make this okay. All Stan could do was throw his arms around him and bury his face into Ford’s shoulder and cry, too.

So that’s what they did on the kitchen floor for over an hour.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper blinked to try to see, but all he saw around him was inky blackness for miles. His heart raced as he looked around for his sister. “Mabel? Mabel! Mabel, answer me!”

The boy scrambled and collapsed out of a portable potty at the fair. He blinked his eyes rapidly to adjust to the sunlight, scurrying off his hands and knees, clutching the warm time-machine in his hands. Wendy was still admiring her price and Robbie was still sulking, and Waddles was still trying to get away from Pacifica.

That didn’t matter! Mabel was stranded back in time! But how far back?! When was Mabel?! Dipper started jamming the button, but the machine wasn’t working, and it was soon swiped from him by a black-gloved hand.

“Mason Pines,” A gruff voice commanded above him and Dipper looked up to find two new guys with that Blendin guy. The two other guys were muscular and guarded with high-tech armor.

“You are under arrest for violating the Time-Traveler's Code of Conduct and for jeopardizing the timestream.” The man labeled as Dundgren stated as serious as death.

“Do you have any idea how many rules you just broke?!” Blendin squawked. “I’m asking. I wasn’t there with you. It was probably a lot, right?”

“Wait, wait please!” Dipper begged as the two members of the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadrent each grabbed the boy by an arm. “My sister! She’s still back there! We have to get her!”

“You have the right to remain silent.” The man labeled as Lolph informed robotically. “Anything you say can and already has been used in the Court of Time-Law.”

“Let me go, Mabel needs-...” And Dipper and the three time-travelers were blasted forward in time.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the endless space of time, Dipper was levitated off the ground by a giant baby using the power of his forehead-hourglass to trap him in a baby-blue field. Members of the the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadrent circled the two, and Blendin stood with his arms crossed over his chest and smiling smugly as the kid who caused so much trouble was getting what he deserved.

“You and your sister have broken the eternal laws of space-time.”

“I’m sorry!” Dipper cried out, trying to fight the energy circling him, but it was futile. “I’m sorry! Do what you want to me, just help my sister!”

“Your sister does not require help, nor do you require punishment.” Time Baby informed as he held his feet. “You are lucky the events that occurred do not change anything drastically. However, your timeline has shifted and therefore this reality’s version of you and your sister are no longer viable and will cease to exist.”

“What?!” Dipper squeaked and looked down at his body to find his legs disappearing. “No no NO! What’s happening to me?!”

“You and your twin sister will be born again on August 31st, 1999, but too many things are different in your timeline for this version of you to continue to exist.”

“W-W-What did I do wrong?! What did I change?!” Dipper cried out as his whole body was drained of color. “What changed in our timeline?!”

“Your uncles have amended their bond thirty-four years ahead of schedule. As unfortunate as this is, your sister miraculously delayed the plans of Bill Cipher by an entire millennia.”

“What uncles?!” Dipper asked, panicked as the fading reached his neck. “Who’s Bill Cipher?!”

“If you wanted the answers you sought out, you should have been patient.” Time Baby scolded. “We all get the answers we seek… in time.”

“P-P-Please!” Dipper begged as he appeared as a ghost. “Please! What did Mabel do?!”

Time Baby cruelly stayed silent, testing Dipper’s strengths, but he was dying, anyways. Might as well.

“She met the Author of the Journals. Your missing uncle.”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “Mabel…” He rasped, and then he ceased to exist.

#GF #gravity falls #gravity falls au #timestuck au #fanfiction #stanford pines #stanley pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #angst #why did i write this?#cuz fuck you that's why #I HAD TO I’M SORRY #pls don't hate me

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