#i just figured i'm probably going to sit and do nothing for a few hours in the morning anyway so i might as well give myself permission to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

velvetures · 9 months

Note

Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.

So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.

So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!

Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))

I Knew, Sweetheart

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.

John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.

Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.

Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.

You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.

A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.

John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.

At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.

Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.

God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.

Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.

Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.

“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”

He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”

Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.

He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.

John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.

“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.

You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.

“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.

“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.

“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.

Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.

“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.

“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.

“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”

“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”

“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”

His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.

John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.

In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.

“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.

Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.

Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.

“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.

“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.

“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.

“Give me hand, Captain?”

He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.

The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.

“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.

“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.

His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.

John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable

With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.

Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.

“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”

His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.

John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.

Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.

Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.

“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.

“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.

Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.

God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.

Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.

“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”

Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.

“Please, I want this. I want you John.”

Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.

“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.

Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.

“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.

Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.

Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.

Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.

“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.

You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.

“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.

You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.

He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.

Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.

Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.

“I love you, John. More than anything.”

He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“You’re my best friend.”

He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.

“You’re mine too.”

yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.

#john price #captain john price #captain price #mwii #cod mwii #john price x reader #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #velvetures #velvetures writes #velvetures answers #cod #anon <3

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 5 months

Note

this is kinda self indulgent but a few hours ago i was trying to fix some problems with my email and im not tech savvy so i was frustrated and at that point i just cried and gave up LMAO can we get that with a comforting remus☺️☺️ i totally get if you'll refuse this request but if ever you take the time to write this thank you so much🫶❤️❤️

modern au

“I don't know how to do it,” you say. You're walking that fine line between frustration and upset, paralysed, and when you talk the emotion in your voice is obvious.

Remus perks up, which is to say he hears it and immediately comes to attention. “Do what, dove?”

“I can't fix this email thing, I thought I fixed it, but it's still broken.”

Remus is about as tech savvy as you are, which isn't very. He uses his laptop for Microsoft Word and Scrivener; he barely opens his emails. “I can have a look?” he offers anyways.

Remus sits on the bench beside you at the kitchen table and pulls your laptop toward him. You have a hard time telling him the problem, all choked up with heat and wishing it would fix itself, “I probably messed it up myself but nothing comes up when I search for it and I just don't understand it.”

He does a couple of the things that you'd already tried with no success. At your wits end, you stand up from the bench thinking you'll make yourself a drink, a burning lump in your throat as you grab a glass from the draining board and fill it with water.

“I'm sorry, dove, I don't think I'm gonna do it. I'll ring Mary.”

“It's okay.” You press your hand to your eyes. It's not okay, you're fed up and tired and you hate using the laptop. “Why is everything so difficult?”

“Dove–”

“I don't care, it can stay broken.” Unbidden, a furious tear races down your cheek.

You glare at the glass of water in your hand and put it down in the sink. Remus makes his sound, that loving hum of sympathy as he stands to sidle up behind you. “It's alright,” he says, testing the waters with a hand on your shoulder.

You slouch at his touch and he takes it for the go ahead, wrapping his arms around you from the back, his chin pressed to the skin just shy of your eye. “Don't be upset, lovely,” he encourages, hands roving up and down the front of you gently. “We'll fix it. Just take a breath.”

“I don't know why it won't work,” you say, trying to be more angry than upset.

“I'm sure we'll figure it out. You've been on the laptop for hours, why don't we go sit down and watch the telly for a bit?” He takes one of your hands, holds it to your chest as he curves in around you. “Please don't wind yourself up. I'll get someone to fix it, okay? It's not the end of the world.”

You know it isn't, but this is nice. You turn in his embrace for a proper chest-to-chest hug, wiping your tears dry in his shoulder. “You sound so sad when you sniffle,” he whispers, chuckling fondly as you do.

“Sorry. I'm just annoyed.”

“I know. It'll be fine, don't stress out about it.” His hands fan out over your shoulders, an encompassment physically that mirrors the warmth of his vocal comfort, the mild roughness of his voice and the care put into each word.

He always cares about things, even when they're small in the grand scheme. “Thank you for trying to fix it,” you say into his shoulder. “I feel better knowing there wasn't an easy solution.”

“Well, there might be. Or we're both idiots,” he jokes.

You laugh wetly, hooking your chin over his shoulder. “Maybe.” You sigh, feeling much less heavy than you had. “At least we're idiots together.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

345 notes · View notes

louvemione · 6 months

Text

illicit affairs (part two) — d. malfoy (draco's pov)

synopsis : Draco watched as Y/n slowly walked out of his life and wonders why their relationship is considered illicit.

warning/s : angst, fluff if you squint hard enough, profanity, written in first person, pureblood! reader (this isn't really important & would only be implied)

author's note : like promised, here is part two of illicit affairs 🥳 but i feel like i didn't write it properly 🥲 hopefully, you guys get the message i'm trying to get through!

<- part one | part three ->

leave the perfume on the shelf

that you picked out just for him

sixth year

"why is it that you no longer wear your signature perfume? I used to love it" that was probably a dumb and unnecessary question to ask

but can you blame me? I just need the slightest reasons and I would gladly start a conversation with her. as crazy as it sounds, I'd most definitely take every opportunity to talk to her.

she was silent for a moment, luckily it was only us sitting by the fire, "there's absolutely no reason for me to wear it but i'm glad you loved it"

i hate this. i hate the awkward silence between me and her, i hate that she's distancing herself from me and i hate that i am pretty much aware of it, i hate not being able to tell her how much i adore her, i hate not being true to myself, i hate—

"i'll go to my dorms now, it was nice talking to you" she didn't wait for my response and continued to walk to her dormitory, i hate when she's formal, it's as if we weren't friends.

so you leave no trace behind

like you don't even exist

"good morning!" I say, rather awkwardly than I hoped for it to

"hello, Draco" she smiled and walked past me

I watched her retreating figure like I always do now that she tries to cut every interaction short.

I hate it.

I hate it when she acts as if nothing ever happened between us. I hate that she no longer wears her perfume. I hate that she's slowly starting to slip past my finger tips.

I fucking hate it.

because she was leaving my life, slowly. so slow that I could see her disappear bit by bit. like, she was packing her things to move else where.

from her presence, to her perfume. it's as if she never even existed with how carefully everything connecting to her disappeared from my life.

take the words for what they are

a dwindling, mercurial high

"you look gorgeous" I whispered, hoping that it was loud enough for y/n to hear, hoping that she knew that it was directed at her, not Astoria.

I felt guilty for dancing with my soon-to-be wife and wishing it was y/n I'm holding.

soon enough, when Harry and Y/n stopped dancing, I excused myself.

"I'll go out for a moment" not waiting for Astoria's reply, I started walking away. I walked behind Y/n, grazing my hand against her waist in the process, hoping that she gets the message.

and that's how we ended up in the restricted section of the library, where we spent the next hour hugging and exchanging kisses and i love you's while looking through the different books in the shelves.

i love you, looking back, I started to wonder whether or not she took my words seriously.

"impossible! he can't...actually mean it!"

but according to the conversation I overheard, she took it as a dwindling, mercurial high.

a drug that only worked

"we're okay, we'll figure this out together, but let's not think of that for now" my kisses were denied when she pushed my head away and sat up.

"we all know we can't do anything about it" she argued and pushed me off, "listen, baby, we shouldn't restrict ourselves from loving who we want and I definitely won't spend my life married to someone I don't love, so believe me, I'll do something about it"

"but you two are set for marriage—"

"but I love you, not her" she stayed silent and I smiled, "so, do you trust me?"

"yeah, of course, I do"

the first few hundred times

"do you not trust me?!"

"NO! I FUCKING DON'T!"

and that's the thing about illicit affairs

and clandestine meetings and stolen stares

illicit? our relationship is nowhere near illicit.

it's not wrong to love someone, what's wrong is to pretend to love someone.

if it were Astoria I'm in a relationship with, that's illicit. but y/n? why would our relationship be illicit? because I'm bound to marry someone I don't want to marry?

"you okay, mate?" only then did I realize that I have been gripping my knife so tightly as I watched as she laughed with Saint Potter.

"we know you've been...feeling bad since she ended things with you but—"

"I just don't understand! why now? why—"

"why not now, Draco? did you think she'd want to wait 'til your wedding before breaking it off?"

"there will be no wedding!"

"oh I wouldn't be so sure if I were you" Daphne says, "my mum wrote to me this morning and mentioned that they might start planning yours and Astoria's wedding, if I were you, I'd start getting into action"

I spent the rest of supper thinking and secretly staring at y/n, who seemed to be doing the same.

they show their truth one single time

"i love you"

but they lie, and they lie, and they lie

"do you love me, still?" I say, not too bothered by the students who I knew were eavesdropping in our conversation

"as a friend, yeah"

we both know she's lying. and I know she's aware of the fact that I know she's lying.

a million little times

367 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 9 months

Text

As It Was - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Secrets don’t last forever, especially inside a fantasy. But you make sure to kiss her hard before it’s time to go. | Based (slightly) on “As it Was” by Harry Styles. | Part Two

Warnings: (+18), some brief smut, it’s angst but sexy and hopeful ending, milf!wanda, age gap, ex-lovers meeting again, implied cheating and lying. | Words: 1.638k

A/N-> Not me writing Hex again. I want to write something about cowboys, but I have no ideas. Guess the only solution is not to write at all.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Song-Based Collection

-&-

It was supposed to be a one-night thing.

But Wanda was waking up in your bed again. Red hair sprawled on her pillow, a soft, satisfied sigh as she felt her muscles exhausted by the previous night's efforts. The feel of your lips is still fresh in her memory.

The natural instinct, not the first, because whenever she woke up in your bed her first reaction was to cover her body and look for the door. But the second was to look for you. Groping around the bed, Wanda opened her eyes as she felt the empty space. Before she could be overcome by guilt and brief irony that you would have been the first to leave this time, she found your figure. Sitting on the windowsill of the motel room, a cigarette between your fingers almost burned out completely.

It was still night, and Wanda wanted to look at you for a moment in the moonlight, to try to remember how beautiful your half-naked figure was. Not that she could ever forget.

"Come back to bed." She asked in a low tone, even though in a few hours, she would probably be the one to leave on the sly. With nothing more than a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You offered nothing more than a sad smile and Wanda knew immediately that something was different tonight.

Against the will of her own weary limbs, she forced herself up. Dragging the sheet wrapped around her body with her, until she was behind you, arms around your naked torso.

"Lie down with me, sweetheart." She insisted in a whisper against your ear. "We still have time."

You flicked the cigarette away, and entwined your hands together over your belly, but didn't move any more than necessary.

"I'm not sleepy." You replied, a little hoarsely. "But you can lie down if you want. I like to watch you sleep, you always seem... so peaceful and carefree when you do."

Wanda rested her chin on your shoulder, a smile playing on her lips. "It's how I always am around you."

You chuckled, weak and short. "We both know this isn't true." The direct statement surprised her, but Wanda just sighed the tension away and continued to hold you without pulling away.

"I'll be busy next week, darling. We should enjoy the little bit of time we have." She insisted last, hoping to win this argument. But you pushed your tongue behind your teeth and released one of her hands to push your hair straight back.

"What was it that you said it would make you busy, dear?" You retorted, and Wanda hummed distracted by the spots on your back.

"Work." She grumbles, pleased to see you turning around, finally. But your gaze is different, a determined glint in your irises making her look at you curiously.

"I thought it was with the boys' soccer club."

Wanda frowns, then smiles awkwardly, shaking her head. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I forgot." She mumbles, swallowing dryly at your watchful gaze studying her. She feels like she got caught in a lie, even if she didn't. Clearing her throat, she loosens you up. "I'm cold, I'm going back to bed. Are you sure...?"

You just nodded, and she sighed in defeat. She wrapped her arms around herself and moved to the mattress, but didn't get to lie down. She turned to you again, with a very queasy feeling in her chest.

"What's wrong? You're acting strange." She accused worriedly, and you hesitated before your shoulders relaxed. The forced smile on your lips didn't make you feel any more confident.

"I'm just tired of sharing you with him, but I don't want to have this conversation again."

"Babe..."

"I mean it, Wanda." You question her as you approach. "We don't fight while in our time together, okay? It's our agreement. And you're right, it is cold. I should be a gentleman and warm you up."

She opens her mouth to protest, but you kiss her firmly, swallowing her gasp of surprise and all the next ones until they become needy against your tongue. Her hands grab your shoulders, and close behind your neck as yours pull the comforter to the floor and drag her back to bed.

You've been together a dozen times now, Wanda remembers them all, and yet it seems to get better and more delicious each time your mouth is against hers, your fingers inside her most sensitive part as they are now. The innate talent you seem to have of driving her to insanity.

It started weeks, maybe months ago. Time is tricky. But it was in the spring, when the boys grew from 5 to 10 in the blink of an eye, and Vision decided there was something very wrong with their perfect life. And Wanda allowed herself to wonder about marriage, and about the people she left behind.

And you reappeared. Her former love from her youth was frozen forever in the 24 years of a volunteer who never returned from Hydra. It was like they told Wanda, no one survived contact with the stone but her and her brother.

So ever since you showed up, willing to continue a relationship that never came to an end for you, Wanda kept you. Part of her knows it's wrong, that you didn't see the truth, but the other can't bring herself to say goodbye to you a second time in her life.

"Yes! Oh, baby, right there-" Her moans are music to your ears. Wanda grips your hair tightly, keeping your face between her legs. You're too busy with the task of bringing her to climax in your mouth to look up and see the irises redden as the warm cheeks, but Wanda can feel you smiling against her. "Fuck, I missed you! I love-"

But she chokes on her own dizzy confessions of pleasure, breaking into a whimper as she cums in your mouth. You force your face against her, licking her clean until you come up again, to kiss her.

Wanda is tired, you two did this so many times last night that the recent orgasm barely lets her feel her legs.

"I can't anymore." She lets you know with a satisfied, exhausted sigh, smiling at the chaste kisses you deposit on her cheeks as she calms down.

Your laugh is short and hearty. "When did you turn into an old woman, Maximoff?" You tease amusedly, looking at her again. And Wanda stares back at you, raising her hands to stroke your face.

Her eyes water. You haven't changed a bit, not a single trace. It's exactly as she saw you last time, so many years before in your mother country. Gone, just like you.

Her tears make you hesitate immediately. "Oh, baby, I was only joking." You assure, kissing the tip of her nose. "You're not old, I promise. You're beautiful, Wanda. And you're perfect, I swear it-"

She giggles tearfully, nodding softly before pulling your face against hers again. It's an intense kiss, but not as feverish as before. You rest into her, and Wanda strokes your cheek as you part.

"Don't lie to me, I know you're a heavy sleeper. What's haunting this pretty head of yours?"

You take a deep breath, hugging her. "It was just a stupid nightmare. It didn't even make sense." That's what you mumble, kissing her skin.

"What was it about?"

"You."

Wanda resists sleep. "Me?" But you slide your thigh between her legs, and the sensitivity makes her jump away. Your hands steady her waist, and Wanda grunts affectedly. "I don't think I can-"

"Nonsense." You retort with a mischievous grin, and Wanda realizes you've only laid down to get better access to her bare breasts, which you cup in one go, making her arch her back. You suck hard before releasing it with a pop. "You used to beat me at this, always the last one to fall asleep..."

Your fingers slipped inside again, and Wanda panted affectedly, one hand digging its nails into your back. "God, that was a long time ago!" She fought back with her eyes tightly closed, feeling her body twitch with the slow stroking inside her. But you just hum distractedly, gaining a rhythm inside her that makes her moan deeply.

"It's odd." You confess in a low tone, sure that Wanda isn't even hearing your words by the way she's panting and squirming on the mattress. "I can't figure out exactly how much no matter how hard I try to remember."

She comes in a high-pitched cry, squirting onto your hand and all over the bed. The moan is pornographic enough to attract all your attention and push all insecurities to the back of your mind.

Wanda can't even keep her eyes open anymore. "'Can't…Not anymore."

"Shush, I know, you did so amazing, babe." You soothe her, removing your fingers and kissing her skin. "You can sleep, I'll take care of you."

Despite her exhaustion, she clung to you as tightly as she could. You sighed and waited to make sure she was asleep to relieve the dampness of the bed with the help of your abilities.

With the bed dry, and a sleeping witch, you got up and returned to the window. It took another moment to light another cigarette and pull out the phone card that had mysteriously appeared in your pocket this morning.

Agatha Harkness, magical consultant - it read on the back. On the other side, impeccable handwriting.

"Come see me at this address when you get tired of pretending you don't remember everything you did for her."

With a sigh, you returned the card to your pocket. You offered the sleeping woman another look before leaving the room. The Westview Motel sign flickered when you closed the door.

-&-

Part Two

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff

904 notes · View notes

dontxevenxask · 4 months

Text

Bad hair day

Context: So you (Satorus wife and basically the mom of Megumi and Tsumiki) were enjoying a nice day, but Megumi came to you almost crying from a Gojos mess up with his hair.

Pairing: fem!reader x Gojo Satoru

TW: idk like hair cutting, a bit of yelling and that's abou it?? Yeah

Word count: abt 900 or so (it's short ik😭😭)

Authors note: haven't written in a loooong time, I have had a few projects but never had thr energy to finish em. I made this at like midnight so that's why it isn't the best. Oh and first language isn't english so can be some typos there!

---------------------------------------------------

You were relaxing in the kitchen, drinking some tea with a few biscuits while reading the new book you've just gotten from the library today.

It was rare to even have such a calm day with nothing special to do. You could just Be by yourself and enjoy the day.

As you thought that would be the case for the rest of the day, but you were about to Be proven very wrong by the universe once again.

You heard quick and pretty silent thumps coming down stairs with the person just yelling. It was Megumi who was on the verge of tears as he came up to you with you getting up from the chair quickly as he wrapped his tiny arms around your legs as he covered his face with them starting to cry now.

"Wha-? Megumi are you okay? What happened??" You asked worried as you got down on your knees so you could see his face.

"My..hair!" He said sniffling inbetween his words.

You took a look at his hair and, oh, my, god.. his hair was cut very badly and pretty short too. He had a pair of bangs too! Now who in the hell did that to him??

You were staring at his hair standing up just about to ask him who did that. But then you saw a tall figure leaning against the kitchens door frame with a look of both dissapointment and guilt.

"I told him to stay still.." He tried defending himself but it was no use really.

"God.." you let out in a sigh while rubbing your temples trying to calm down a bit. "Are you serious?? He just had his hair cut a few days ago!"

"Well he said he didn't really like the length of it?! And I decided to fix it up since you were finally relaxing for sometime" Gojo said now looking into your eyes but then looking away again.

Megumi was still crying from his awful haircut as you were arguing with Gojo for a bit as well about the situation, everything was so loud and it made you just more irritated.

"Okay okay! Megumi, honey? How about I fix your hair, yeah?" You leaned down to look at him.

He then started to calm down but still had some tears on his cheecks and a runny nose as he nodded as an answear. So you picked him up with his arms around your neck gently and his legs around your back.

Gojo stared at you both as you walked past him with Megumi in your arms. Though you didn't notice the death stare that Megumi gave to Gojo before you walked upstairs to go to the bathroom to fix it all up.

"Okay, now sit here and I'll try my best to fix it" for sure yours couldn't be as bad as this monstosity on his head

---------------------------------------------------

After about an hour of hard work with scissors snapping and hair falling down, you got his hair to look actually pretty good!

"So, how's that?" You asked fixing it up a bit with your fingers.

"..Amazing!" Megumi said cracking a smile as he turned around to hug you as you put your hand on top oh his head stroking his soft hair.

You then opened the door with Satoru and Tsumiki both outside waiting to see the results. Tsumiki was also a bit amazed and went to look at it closer as Gojo just looked at you smiling.

You saw him smiling at you and you smiled as well "Hey why won't you two go watch some TV?" You said to the kids as they then left down stairs to go and do just what you said.

"So.. I'm sorry for cutting his hair without asking you first.." he admitted looking down at the floor.

"Thanks but you probably should apologise to Megumi instead of me?" You said smiling a bit raising an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, mhm, sure"

"Gojo??"

"Okay I will!" He finally said.

"Good, and please never! Cut anyones hair again, expecially yours! I don't want to date a bald man okay?" You said smiling as you left a quick and soft kiss on his lips before going down to hear his apology to Megumi.

#gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x you #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #jjk fanfic

245 notes · View notes

eyelessfaces · 3 days

Text

uncalled for

summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids

tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)

It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again.

“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you.

“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.

“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.

“Babe come on you know that’s not–”

You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest.

It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience.

You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there.

When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.

When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.

—

A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.

“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration.

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.

He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.

“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.

He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement.

“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.”

You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”

“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”

Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff.

“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.

It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.

“What’s he doing here”

Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.

You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”

BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.

Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.

You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.

“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.

“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice.

“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”

Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fluff #star wars #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #poe dameron angst

143 notes · View notes

blegh-110 · 11 months

Note

I have an idea for “Have I found you, flightless bird?”!! What if after living with Tangerine for a while, Tan decides to test Y/n to see if she’ll try to run away again, so he leaves her bedroom door unlocked. So when Y/n wakes up in the middle of the night one night, having trouble sleeping, she goes up to the door, sees it’s unlocked, but instead of running away, she goes to try to find Tangerine’s room because she can’t sleep and wants to climb into bed with him? But he finds her before she’s able to get to his room and thinks that she tried to run away again + he had told her before never to leave the room without asking (he’s really mad), but she tries to explain that she wasn’t trying to run away, she just wanted to climb in bed with him because she couldn’t sleep and had a bad dream and was scared… Tan going from 😠 to 🥺 extremely quickly, and also a bit of 😏

OHhh I know this answer is really late, I'm sorry <333, but I absolutely love this idea!! So, I've made this into a little blurb!!!

This is probably the worst night you have had since being forcibly taken from your life.

You’re currently sitting up against the headboard of your bed, shaking like a leaf as you count to eight, waiting for the inevitable sound.

“-five one thousand, six one thousand, seven one thousand, eight one tho-” Then a clap of thunder loudly interrupts your counting, sending you into tears. You desperately want to be held and feel safe, but how are you going to get that when the only person in the house is a psychopath? As well as the fact that the door to your room is locked from the outside, leaving you helpless and with no choice but to stay on your pink bed and pray that the storm stops.

You try to distract yourself and trace the floral pattern on your bed, but you see a quick flash of light through your window, and all you can do is anxiously bite your lip and wait for the thunder. When it finally hits, it’s the loudest one of the night, even making the house shake just a bit. But it’s enough for you to yelp, throw the covers off of you, and jump off of the bed onto the cold floor.

As you quickly run to the door, you plan to give up and call for Tangerine. You just want to be next to someone, anyone. Just as long as you’re not alone.

You instinctively reach for the door handle and are about to rattle it, but the first turn of the handle opens your bedroom door. You freeze as you let go, letting the door open by itself and reveal the dark hallway. It almost makes you want to turn back into the comfort of your pink room and stuffed animals, but another clap of thunder sends you running to the room Tangerine has been staying in.

Meanwhile, Tangerine puts his hands in his hands and sighs. He also hopes for the storm to pass by, but it’s different in that it’s distracting him from his work. He likes the rain as well as the sound of thunderstorms, but not when he’s been trying to get some information on the latest case he and Lemon have been working on. This guy has been difficult to track, even more difficult to find any sort of information on. And as a result, he’s had a headache for hours now.

Not only that, but he’s been under more stress because of you. You tried to escape about a week ago, which came as a surprise to Tangerine since you’d been nothing but quiet. He thought you were starting to get used to him and your new home. So when he saw you trying to escape, once again, he knew he was back at square one with you. Then he realized you two never left, you tricked him into thinking you were okay.

He felt humiliated when he told Lemon, who couldn’t for the life of him stop laughing and making teasing remarks the entire day.

“You couldn’t keep one girl under control? You’re a shit assassin aren't you?” Lemon laughed.

Tangerine wouldn’t be fooled the next time. For the last few days, he’s left your bedroom door unlocked, to see if you’d pull another stunt. If you did… well, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He figured the two of you weren’t close enough yet that any sort of punishment would take an effect on you. He couldn’t ignore you or send you away to another room for the night or day, that would only make you happy since you don’t want to be anywhere near him. He wouldn’t dare even try to spank you, that would send you even further away from him. He toyed with the idea of taking away your stuffed animals and making you stay in one of the boring guest rooms instead of your room that was perfectly designed for you, but those were your only sources of comfort. He didn’t want to take that away from you.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the sound of feet running closer to his office then right past it.

Oh, I’ve got you now, love.

Tangerine quickly rises from his chair and pulls open his office door, fully ready to see you taking off down the stairs.

“And just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He says angrily.

You whip around when you hear his voice. All the fear you felt before of him goes away when you see him from the doorway of some room you haven’t been in, always being told “don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

You don’t know if it’s because you are so deathly afraid of the thunder, or the chill you feel all over your body, or if it’s the fact that you haven’t seen anybody in so long, but you're in a floaty headspace. One that makes you feel small and easily damaged. And when you look at Tangerine, for the first time ever he is your safe haven. And you just know that if he held you in his arms, you would feel okay. You try to ignore the furious look on his face and start walking towards him, your tears finally falling.

“I thought I told you not to leave-”

Tangerine, first angry, is confused then very concerned as you walk closer to him. When he hears your sniffle and hiccup, he meets you halfway down the hallway. Grunting when you crash and fall into his chest, crying your eyes out. You would’ve fallen, your knees deciding to give out, but Tangerine pulls you so close to him that your legs dangle.

“Oh, darling. What’s wrong? Is it the storm?” He asks softly, stroking your back and cooing when you nod against his chest. He feels you trembling in his arms, your endless shaking and sobbing has Tangerine’s heart into two. But then he’s reminded of the fact that you came to him, you decided yourself that he would make you feel better. Then Tangerine starts to feel proud of himself, despite doing nothing.

“It’s okay now, it’s alright. I’ve got you now, haven’t I?” He then brings you up higher and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and nod your head into his neck. Your nightgown rises up, just barely covering your ass and exposing your legs. You would be cold, but one of Tangerine’s big, warm hands is under your bum, holding you up. And the other is stroking one of your thighs around his waist. Then you feel his lips against your head and the storm no longer exists. Only you and Tangerine.

“Wasn’t trying to leave, p-promise.” You hiccup and flinch at the thunder.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry for being angry, dove, probably scared you, huh?” Tangerine whispers into your ear. You nod your head against him.

“Wasn’t very nice of me was it?”

“Nuh-uh.” You admit.

Then you feel movement and wonder if he’s taking you somewhere. You lift your head and see you are back in your room. You tighten your arms and legs around Tangerine, signaling that you don’t want to be alone.

“If I give you a cuddle, can you forgive me?”

“Yes, please.”

“I should be the one begging you.” Tangerine tickles your sides, making you squeal and jump in his arms.

“Oh, please forgive me, my love.” He continues poking your sides and nuzzling his head into your neck, his hair and mustache tickling you. With tears still in your eyes, you giggle and try to push him away from you, but you’re trapped in his arms.

“Stop it, stop it! Okay-”

“Oh, (y/n), I’ll do anything. Please forgive me.” Tangerine mumbles into your neck, then throws you on the bed and starts peppering kisses all over your face, squeezing your hips and pinching your sides. You giggles and screams for him to quit it making him smile.

“I forgive you! Just stop it!” You yell with a smile on your face, the weather outside completely forgotten. You sigh when Tangerine takes his hands off of you, you suddenly feel cold again. Then he plants a long kiss on your head before getting up, making your heart pick up nervously.

“Let me just change out of my clothes real quick, lovey.”

“No!” You shout and quickly cover your mouth, shocked at your own reaction. But the thought of having to be alone again, even if it’s just for a few minutes, brings back your tears. “I’m sorry, just don’t want to be alone.”

“It’s just going to be for a moment, I promise. You won’t be comfortable laying on me with my suit on.”

“I don’t care, just take it off. Just don’t leave me, please.” You pout up at him from your spot on your bed. And Tangerine is immediately unbuttoning his vest and shirt for you. You didn’t quit realize it yet, but any time you flashed him your pout, he was on his knees for you, ready to do anything you wanted. This feeling became even worse when it was paired with your teary eyes.

When he was down to just his boxers, Tangerine climbed into bed with you. This wasn’t the first night he had slept with you, but it was one where you cuddled into his side and placed an arm on his bare chest. You closed your eyes and breathed in his scent as you quickly fell into your slumber. Because of this, you didn’t feel the quickness of Tangerine’s heartbeat right under your hand.

Soon enough, the only thing Tangerine can hear are your quiet snores and even breaths. This is how it should be. He knows that when you wake up, you’ll be mortified at your actions and the events that took place, but he places it in the back of his mind and pulls you closer. Smiling when you snuggle closer to him and say very quietly, “thank you.”

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine blurb #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x fem!reader #flightless bird thoughts<3

360 notes · View notes

casualpersonapersonpeach · 3 months

Note

Can we have where The Slasher's S/O had Chemotherapy, and are now becoming bald because of it. (Either the S/O explains about the effects of chemotherapy or that they're depressed because of their hair loss, it's up to you). [Include Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, and a character of your choice; probably The Silent Brother from my previous request ;) whoever you want]

Hello ! Of course. TW to anybody reading. If anybody is going through this right now, I hope that you know you are so loved and if you need to reach out I'm always here 💗💗💗 also apologies for how long this took to write. Hopefully you like this 😭

warnings 18+: slightly suggestive in Thomas' one

Slashers with an s/o going through Chemotherapy

(Includes Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer)

Jason Voorhees

Because Jason lives a very sheltered life, he doesn't know much about illnesses and treatments. You may have to explain it to him and how the process works.

It would break his heart. He hardly knows what to say or do initially. He's in shock. He noticed some clumps of hair on the pillow cases every now and then, but he wasn't sure what to make of it. He didn't want to bring it up because it may upset you.

It makes sense to him now. He offers to shave the rest of your hair if you find that easier. Jason is just worried about you. "Are you going to be okay? What can I do to help you? I have no idea what I can do" he panics to himself. He's trying to be strong for you.

Jason worries how you are going to feel about yourself as well. He's bald too but for different reasons, and he knows what it's like to be bullied for things you can't help, and hating himself in the mirror. He's going to do everything he can to let you know how beautiful you are. He wants your confidence to be unshakable, even though that's hard. You don't deserve to go through such a thing. And you definitely don't deserve to feel anything less than beautiful.

He just cuddles you a little bit tighter, kisses you a little longer to try reinforce to you he's always going to be there for you and get through this with you. He writes down a note for you for when you wake up the next morning.

" My darling Y/n. I'm sorry that I should have taken more initiative for you and been stronger for you. I shouldn't have said nothing. I'll do anything i can to help you my beautiful angel. You are my entire world, and nothing is going to change that, and you'll always be the most beautiful person to me. " - Jason.

Jason decides to devote himself to nursing you, driving you to appointments (while in disguise), making safe food for you, helping you when you need to vomit etc. He is on high alert mode to protecting you in his little shack from any dangers.

Michael Myers

Michael is less delicate about the situation. He just holds up a clump of hair and looks confused while looking at you. He didn't mean to look like an asshole, he just didn't know it was something he needed to be sensitive about. Your eyes started to water, and quickly you walked off to your shared bed to sleep.

Michael had noticed you hadn't seemed your normal self for a few weeks now. You hardly spoke to him, you were gone for hours randomly, and when you were home, you just slept and looked depressed.

He didn't really know how to bring it up though, michaels just not good at beating around the bush, per say. He's just direct which can feel really cold.

Michael finally walked into your room to check on you. He normally liked to wait for you to bring up what's bothering you, but he figured that it clearly wasn't working lately. He needed to do more. He sits next to you and gently places his hand on your shoulder.

He hardly talks, but when he does it's short and direct. "What's wrong?" He quietly muffs under his mask.

It took you a moment to work up the courage to explain. You explain that in the last month you've been getting chemotherapy and have been starting to lose you hair. He then understood why you were always so tired, nauseated, and so unlike yourself.

"I just didn't want to tell you" you say under your breath. "I could hardly believe that this was happening to me. I just feel so down about losing my hair too. I hardly feel like myself anymore. It's like i can't recognise myself".

Michael just sits in silence. " I didn't want you to feel ashamed of me..." Michael quickly wraps you in his arms. Holding you tighter than he would have ever done. "Never. I will never be ashamed." He grunts. It kind of sounds like he's crying a little too, but he'd never let you see that.

Somewhere deep down Michael has a heart. Maybe just for you though. It crushes him that you are already going through something so cruel and life threatening. And how you are worrying instead if he'd still find you attractive. He wants you to know he would never find you unattractive NO MATTER WHAT.

When you feel a wave of nausea overcome you, Michael is quick to notice, and sweeps you quickly in his arms and holds you whole you vomit into the toilet.

Michael made a silent vow to himself. One being he'd help you get through this. The second being, if he had to go find Rapunzel herself and chop off her hair to get you some, just so you can feel a little bit better during this time, he won't waste a minute. He'd do it in a heartbeat for you.

He kisses your head and helps you settle into bed. He's already making a plan...

Thomas Hewitt

Being in the middle of nowhere meant that there was no way to hide your illness. Usually mama Luda Mae or Thomas would drive you to the closest hospital to receive treatment.

Tommy didn't really go out in public, he didn't want to make this about himself, his fear of being seen was nothing compared to the trial that you were going through.

None of the Hewitt's really knew much about medicine, side effects and so on. Sometimes the uncle's would make insensitive comments to you, but tommy and Luda Mae never let that slide.

Shortly you began to lose your hair. Sometimes Uncle monty would make a sly remark that " you were balding quicker than he was ". It drove Thomas mad, and he actually stood up to him. Thomas grabbed him by his shoulders and slammed him against the wall and gave him such an intense death stare.

For Thomas it was a big deal standing up to his family. But you mean more to him. He wishes he could afford to get you out of this place. Once his family was his safe place, but ever since you came into the picture, he noticed how poorly the uncles treated you. From then on he always dreamed of getting away with you.

You are his sanctuary. No matter how ill you are. Thomas didn't really understand the science behind the hair loss, but he did notice how unhappy you seemed. You hardly looked at him, you were no longer physically intimate with him (due to health risks for immunity, but also depression and poor body image), you also withdrew any kind of innocent affection.

It wasn't intentional- or against Thomas. You have been so unwell, and on chemo so you wouldn't have been intimate even if you felt good about yourself or wanted to. But it was so easy to spiral into a deep depression because you could hardly recognise yourself.

You became so self hating, even though none of this was your fault. Hair is such an important part of identity and it's hard losing something you're so used to and treasure. You worried you wouldn't be beautiful to Thomas, and above all, you were worried that you were 'useless' or 'a burden' that the uncle's had convinced you that you were.

You are unable to work, which meant having to rest all day. You are too unwell to help around the house, and money is tight as it is. Thomas eventually noticed this and wanted to talk to you about it.

One night before you and Thomas got ready for bed, he decided he would ask you what was wrong. He had been afraid of bothering you this whole time. He quietly asked "why do you hardly look at me anymore? Is everything ok?"

It didn't take long for your eyes to being to tear up. And after a few minutes, you finally mustered up the courage to tell him why you're upset. "I just hate how I look at the moment. I'm so scared you won't find me beautiful anymore so I didn't want to try. I'm sorry for making you worry".

"You could never be ugly to me my darling... You're just as beautiful as the day I first saw you. The day my life changed forever. I promise I'm going to look after you and only when you're ready and wanting to, we can get back to that".

"One day, i hope to get you out of this hellhole. For better or for worse, I want to look after you as long as we live.... Y/n... Would you marry me?" Thomas softly asked. He definitely intended on proposing on a happier day, and to plan it out. But for him the timing felt right, when you two finally felt like you were connecting again after a while.

"... Really? You'd want to marry me, even like this?" You replied. "Yes." "Yes Tommy! I'll marry you!". You jumped into his arms, and he held you tighter than he ever had before.

You both longed for a life far away together, to get married, to raise your own children together. But for now, Tommy will nurse you back to health.

Bubba Sawyer

Even though Bubba couldn't speak comprehensible sentences, he still communicated and you understood him like no other. Again, living out far away meant you had to be honest about how unwell you had been feeling, so reluctantly Drayton took you to the doctors, and from there you got your diagnosis and eventually treatments.

Bubba is incredibly intuitive and immediately knows when something is wrong, so when you begin to lose your hair and feel drained, he is quick to communicate with you.

He mostly blubbers, but he can sort of write. He does misspell some words, and doesn't have the best handwriting, but his brothers taught him as much as they could about writing.

"ar yu pheelin ok?" Even in your darkest moods, seeing Bubba's writing makes you giggle because it's sweet to know he's trying. "Bubba have you not noticed my hair missing or that i look any different?" You asked. You assumed he was going to make a comment about that. Not that it was in his nature to do so, you were just feeling insecure.

"Drayton tould me sum stuff about yur treetment. I thought it wuz that." He hastily wrote. "Well, I haven't been feeling the best physically of course. But emotionally too. I mean, i knew that the chemo would be hard on me, but i didn't expect to feel sensitive i guess? Im just not happy when i look in the mirror." You covered your face with your hands, crying.

Bubba jumped immediately to your side holding you. He was making all sorts of sounds to console you. Once he felt you beginning to calm down, he signed with his hand, holding up 1 finger to say give him a moment. He began to write again.

He had an undefeated smile on his face. Bubba was coming up with a plan to make you feel better. "Butt yur always beautiful to me. yu look good no mater wat. My brutha is bald as a pluked turkey ona thanksgivin.... I hav a litle surprise for yu. Close yur eies darlin".

It momentarily made you feel a bit better. You did chuckle a little that chop top had a metal plate on his head too, and he definitely hadn't lost any confidence on his part.

You hear nubbins, bubba and chop top giggling upstairs. Soon enough bubba and his brothers came walking downstairs, with a towel covering bubba's face and head.

"M'lady, it has come to the courts attention that we need to even out the playing field a little. May i present to you, your new and improved.... Bubba Sawyer!" And in the most theatrical way possible, nubbins and chop top removed bubba's towel to reveal a brand new haircut. Then they burst out laughing.

Bubba decided amongst his brothers that hopefully if he gets a silly haircut, you might feel a little better. If he makes himself look silly, you might have a little distraction, and not that you are any less beautiful with hair loss (because you're always beautiful no matter what) but to help you feel less out of place.

It was also heartwarming to see chop top and nubbins take something kind of seriously for once and consider how you are feeling during this hard time. They don't really know how to help other than with humor, but you appreciate that anyways.

They really revamped his look. They tried colour blocking a section of bubba's hair by his left ear by bleaching it, but they used household bleach so it just burned his hair off, leaving any remaining hair bleached blonde, but very short and left some skin on his head irritated and red. It didn't bother him in the slightest.

Nubbins buzzed a large bald spot on his crown, and the two brothers took turns hacking at his curls to create an asymmetrical look. It was very silly, but they did it out of love, not to mock you.

"people would pay good money in england for an asymmetrical look like this huh" nubbins smirks to himself. "Can't believe you know that word man." Chop top replies.

It wasn't a permanent fix to the pain you would be going through, but bubba just wanted to make you smile even for a few minutes. Anything to let you know that he's with you through this.

#jason voorhees #michael myers #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #friday the 13 #halloween movie #texas chainsaw massacre 2003 #texas chainsaw massacre #slashers #slashers x reader

114 notes · View notes

youaintnothinbuta · 7 months

Note

hey! don't know if you still do jason dean requests but i'm gonna put one in anyways. could you do something we're jd thinks the reader getting mad at him is super hot and he'll keep egging them on just so they yell at him or get frustrated at him (because he's just a frustrating person.) but the reader eventually catches on and starts trying to make him angry. the typical flirting with other guys, talking to people he doesn't like, not letting him hang out with them after school. eventually he just has enough and corners the reader and just goes off.

“You gotta get better at telling me this stuff.” Jason Dean x reader

Summary: see request

Pairing: Jason Dean x fem!reader

Word count: 1000

Warnings: angst, sexul innuendo towards the end, probably typos

A/N: yes I absolutely still will write for Jd!! Hope this is okay, had trouble figuring out how to end it 🫠

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I swear to god Jd it’s like you are out to make me mad.” You said after he’d showed up to your house with no books, not even a pen, after you explicitly explained that you are too busy with finals coming up to spend hours and hours doing nothing productive at the moment, and after he promised you he’d bring his school work over so you could study together.

“I’m not.” He laid back on your bed.

You looked at him, immediately seeing right through the grin that was tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Oh my god, you are.”

“I’m not.” He sat up, hardly able to control his smile.

“You are!”

“I’m not.” He shrugged.

“YOU ARE!” You yelled, earning a slight chuckle from him. You paused, taking a second to realise this is what he wanted out of you, you took a breath. He stood up, his hand finding the small of your back, he lent into you, mumbling, “how bout you let me relieve some of your anger, hm?”

“What? No. No no no.” You pushed him towards your bedroom door.

“Where are you—“

You continued to push him through your house.

“I don’t have time for this Jd. Go be a dick somewhere else. Go home. I need to study, don’t have time for your games.” You shut the door in his face, leaving him outside.

You went back to your room, sitting at your desk, feeling a little guilty for kicking him out but also a little frustrated that he’d been pissing you off on purpose lately. The snide remarks he’d been making, calling other girls hot, just to name a few things he’d been doing.

God, how could you be such an idiot? You know what? No. Two can play at that game. If he wants to give it out he’s gotta be able to take it.

The following Monday at school, you were by your locker, talking to David, a guy in your biology class. You saw Jd approaching you from your peripheral vision, and made sure to look extra entertained by this guy.

“Hey, babe. Mind if I join?” Jd asked.

“Actually, I do. We were in the middle of a conversation,” you looked up at David, “Sorry, let’s go somewhere else.” You smiled and walked away from Jd.

You couldn’t see him with your back turned, but you knew exactly the look he was giving you. You know he was easy to anger. You knew his eyes had darkened and his mind would be racing.

In the following weeks, you started to play your own game. You began flirting shamelessly with other guys in front of Jd, making sure he saw you laughing and enjoying their company. It was a risky move, but you was determined to push Jd to his limits, to give him a taste of his own medicine.

One day, you walked home with a guy from school, your hand lightly brushing his arm as you chatted and laughed. You glanced back and saw Jd trailing behind, his face a mask of frustration. Later that week, you made plans to hang out with people you knew Jd couldn’t stand. You watched as he gritted his teeth, knowing he wouldn’t be invited. The satisfaction you felt was immense, but it was nothing compared to what was to come. Jd’s breaking point finally arrived. It was a Friday after school, you had arranged to meet your friends after school to go to one of their houses, leaving Jd standing alone as he watched you and your friends leave together. That was his final straw. He couldn’t take it anymore. You knew Fridays after school were your designated “couple time”.

That night, he crawled into your bedroom through your window.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What the hell are you playing at?” His anger evident in his piercing gaze.

You feigned innocence, your eyes widening, “Playing at? I don’t know what you mean.”

His voice trembled with barely-contained rage. “Stop it. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

You smirked, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. “Do I, Jd? Maybe I’m just having fun.”

He gripped your arms pulling you into his hold. “Fun? You think this is fun? Do you think it’s fun for me to watch you gawk at random guys. I know you don’t like them as much as you pretend to.” He was practically seething.

“How the fuck do you think I feel, then, huh?” You shoved him off of you, “I’m only doing it because you do it to piss me off.”

Jd’s frustration was palpable, and he raked a hand through his hair. The intensity of the situation hung in the air as he tried to regain his composure.

You stood your ground, staring at him with a mixture of anger and defiance. “You started this, Jd. Maybe now you’ll understand how infuriating it is to be on the receiving end of your bullshit.”

He took a step toward you, his eyes locked onto yours. “You think this is a game, Y/N? You think we can just keep pushing each other’s buttons?”

You matched his gaze, unflinching. “Maybe it is a game, Jd. But you started it. I just decided to play by your rules.”

For a moment, the room was filled with tense silence. The two of you were caught in a glaring standoff, each unwilling to back down. Jd finally let out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair once more. “Fine, Y/N. You win this round.”

You raised an eyebrow, not expecting him to back down so easily. “Is that it? Just like that?”

He leaned in closer, his voice low and intense. “I only try to piss you off because your reaction is hot. I love when you yell at me, you know that?”

He reached out and grabbed your face gently, his touch surprisingly tender.

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief that you could finally be honest with each other.

“You gotta get better at telling me this stuff.”

Jd chuckled, leaning in, his lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him, his fingers finding their way up your skirt as he broke the kiss with a smile, pushing you down gently onto your bed.

#jason dean x reader #jason dean heathers #jason dean #reader x Jason Dean #jd x y/n #jd x you #reader x jd #jd x reader #jd fanfic #jason jd dean #jd #jd heathers #heathers jd #heathers the musical #heathers #heathers fluff #jd x veronica

184 notes · View notes

sinner-sunflower · 2 months

Text

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 11/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

I'm sorry if this feels a bit fast-paced but I am not writing 1 month's worth of Luci's journey on Earth alksjdlas

Everything is tying up very nicely.

The ending is already being written and this chapter has a lot of clues on what will happen next.

To any ARTISTS or WRITERS who want to make something based on this AU, you have my full permission! All I ask is I want to read/see it!

Your reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated.

And feel free to chat with me if you have any theories or AUs or this AU of your own!

---------------------------

The thing about being immortal and whose existence started since the beginning of well- everything- is that it is literally just a concept.

Centuries feel like minutes. Days into seconds. Seconds into basically nothing.

Hell, the only reason why Lucifer knew 7 years had passed since Lilith left was because he was counting. He wanted to be reminded of the pain of losing the first person he ever loved.

Call him a bad father but he genuinely doesn't know how long since he has seen Charlie.

He knows it's been a while but he didn't realize just how much longer it was. He missed out on so many years of his daughter's life because he couldn't stop being fucking sad.

Charlie probably has something to say about that mentality but he can't help it.

So when Lucifer takes a whole month of scouring Earth before he finds what he's looking for, he curses himself.

Didn't he just arrive on Earth a few hours ago? Now that he thinks about it, following that wild duck chase (it's goose, dear) should've been a dead giveaway that he was taking too long.

He should've known seeing the sun and moon appearing at that many intervals meant days were flying by.

It's not entirely his fault. Pride's days and nights are basically the same- plus it's not like he needs sleep. It was bound to fuck up his body clock.

Judging by how there are no effects in the human world yet, they're still probably keeping the Roo situation at bay. He's grateful for his siblings but it only makes him move more urgently.

Lucifer arrives at a grassy field on a hill in the middle of nowhere.

It was warm, but the wind is making sure the skin doesn't burn by the sun's rays. He looks around and spots a woman-like figure under the shade of the line tree- her short hair dancing with the wind.

Lucifer walks loudly to her but she doesn't acknowledge his presence. Only when he is standing in her line of sight does she react.

Unknown: Hello, Lucifer.

Lucifer: Goodie.

The Good of Humanity. The being he unintentionally corrupted by his actions.

Goodie: To what do I owe the pleasure.

Lucifer: I need your help. It's about your sister.

Goodie: Hmm? Well then. Come sit. It appears we have a lot to talk about ~

Lucifer sits and takes a deep breath.

Lucifer: Roo- Roo is breaking out. It's only a matter of time before she fully escapes and we are not strong enough to seal her back up again with her stronger state. Hell will-

Goodie stops his rambling by placing a hand on his.

Goodie: Calm now, angel.

Lucifer:… sorry.

Goodie: You say my sister is coming back?

Lucifer: Yes. She's eating her way out of hell and if we don't stop her soon, my people- my family are going to die. I am never above begging so please- help us.

There was a pregnant pause before Goodie spoke up again.

Goodie: I do not have the power you are looking for.

Lucifer: But..

Goodie: But! I never said I would not help.

Lucifer: you'll help Hell?

Goodie: I am the embodiment of good. I can see how much of it someone has inside their heart and right now… your heart is as full as it is pure.

Lucifer: Then how can we-

Goodie: I can lend you something that shall be enough to contain her. But for this to work, I need one thing.

Lucifer: What is it?

Goodie finally meets his eyes. He felt like he was looking at everything he destroyed- the failed project that is humanity.

Goodie: You.

------------------------------------------------

What to look forward to in Part 12:

Luci comes back to hell with Goodie in tow.

Some conflicts started by the overlords

The Lucifer finally gets involve in the ritual

96 notes · View notes

idrkwhatthisisimsorry · 9 months

Text

Flying to Italy pt. 2

Description: Y/N finds out her boyfriend is cheating on her with her best friend, and decides to take the trip she had planned with him to Italy anyways, but alone. But she meets Harry along the way, and so it goes... Does she decide to stay with Harry, or is it too soon and too fast? Or will she forgive her boyfriend? Only time will tell.

Warnings: nothing, really! Just Harry

Word count: 2K

Masterlist

A/N: heyyy!! new part. I hope you guys like it, nothing really crazy happens, but Harry's finally here, stuff is going to be picking up soon, so stay tuned!

I spent the next couple days trying to get everything in order so I wouldn't be stressed out of my mind on this trip. It was supposed to be a month of relaxing by the pool, on the beach, in cafes, etc. And now I was going to have to figure out how to not cry the entire time I was there.

I met up with Collin to let him know what was going on. I didn't want to have to be the person to break the news to him, because no one wants to hear that kind of news, but I though better to hear it from me, someone who just went through the same exact thing with the same people, rather than hear it from Lily who probably would've fed him some kind of lie to portray the situation in her favor.

He was extremely heartbroken, which I knew was going to happen. We honestly both just cried together in shock about the whole situation, and he decided he was going to cut ties with her as well. I told him I was going to go on that Italy trip anyways, and he was more than welcome to come with me, but he didn't want to be reminded of what that trip was going to mean for him, so it looked like it was going to be me alone on that trip.

...

The past few days had been exhausting. I would be fine one minute, and then just break down crying the next. It's not easy losing your best friend and you boyfriend all in the same day, and it was really difficult coming to that realization and trying to cope with it. So being in the airport just three days later, knowing I was going to be on a flight from LA to Italy for about the next twelve hours was not a calming thought. I was probably going to sit next to some stranger that smelled funny the entire time, instead of who was supposed to be my loving boyfriend.

The second I got on the plane I put my AirPods in, blasting Fleetwood Mac as loud as I could, and put a sleeping mask on. I was going to sleep on this flight for as long as I possibly could to try and one the world out.

And I was very successful in doing that. Almost the very second that sleeping mask was on, I was passed out. I couldn't hear a thing, and I was happy I achieved my goal. Until suddenly, I feel someone nudging my shoulder. I couldn't hear or see them, all I could feel was them pushing on my shoulder a few times until I finally regained my consciousness. I took off my sleeping mask and took out one earbud on the side of the person who was annoying me. "What?" I said, groggily and annoyed. I immediately regretted it once I looked over and saw who it was. It was Harry fucking Styles. Holy shit. "So sorry to bother you, but they're bringing the food cart around and you've been asleep for quite some time, and I just wanted to make sure you didn't miss out on the food in case you wanted some." He said, anxiously, not wanting to upset me further. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, thank you. Just been a rough week." I said, chuckling, and then turning to the flight attendant as she brought around the food cart, asking me my preferences.

We both ate in silence next to each other, and it killed me not being able to immediately text Lily who I was sitting next to. She was the biggest One Direction and Harry fan ever since we were teenagers. Anytime anything happened with Harry, I knew. I wasn't as big of a fan as her, not because I don't like his music or anything, because I do, but because I'm just not much of a fangirl type of person like she is. I was nervous to break the silence and say anything to him, but he got rid of that fear for me, and spoke up before I got the courage to.

"Rough week, huh?" He asked, a small smile on his face. "Oh, you really don't want to hear about it, it's kind of a lot." I said, looking down, kind of shy, because I didn't want the first time I ever spoke to Harry Styles to be me telling him about how my boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend. "I've heard just about everything, and we do have like six more hours left of this flight, I don't know how many more movies I can watch." He says, with a bright smile on his face. "Okay, fine. I'll tell you. But only if you tell me why you're on a commercial flight to Italy first." I say smiling. "That's an easy one. I don't have my own personal private jet. I have one that I use but it's not only mine, and it was in use today, but I really wanted to go to Italy, so I just booked the first first class flight I could find, and luckily there was a cancellation on this seat and I took it." He said, hesitating before he said the next thing, "I'm assuming that has a reason to do with why it's been a rough week?" I groaned a bit before looking at him to say, "Possibly... Ugh, you are going to be the first person I'm actually telling about this, so... who knows. But uh, basically I was supposed to go on this trip this month with my boyfriend, my best friend, and her boyfriend." I said, pausing so I wouldn't start crying in front of Harry Styles. He looked at me, weirdly supportingly, and said, "What happened? I get it, you don't know me, you don't have to tell me if you really don't want to. I can watch a few more movies. But if you want to tell me, I'm all ears." "Basically, I caught them hooking up in a bar bathroom like four days ago. My best friend of twenty years and my boyfriend of ten. I had to break the news to her boyfriend, who is also one of my best friends. They all canceled their tickets, but I've been wanting to come to Italy for years, and I thought it might be a good way to get my mind off of everything. We'll see. A lot of the stuff I planned for us to do was like specifically couple stuff, so I'm pretty much just going to be winging it the whole time I'm there, which isn't exactly comforting in a city I've never been before, but we'll see!" I say, the last part sarcastically.

It's gotten to the point in the breakup where I'm more bitter than anything. Yeah, I lost my boyfriend and my best friend, but clearly they're very shitty people. It just sucks having lost both of the people I talked to more than anyone else in the world at the same time. "Holy shit, it sounds like a rough week. They're assholes, I'm so sorry. Italy's amazing, though, you'll find fun solo things to do. I'm here solo, it's a fun place to be." He said, trying to be encouraging, but I wasn't a millionaire who could just rent my own private yacht and find fun things to do as easily as he could. "Thanks, it's just weird, they've been my whole life, and now they're not. Like for instance, Lily, my best friend, would have already gotten a text that I was on a plane right next to Harry Styles, she happens to be obsessed with you. Obsessed. And not in the healthy way, not that there's a healthy way. But now I have to just keep it to myself. And Jackson, too. She roped him into her obsession with you. Sorry, now I sound kind of like a crazy fan. I didn't scream when I saw you, though, you have to give me that." He stared at me, kind of looking like he was trying to hold back laughter. "You're not obsessed with me too? I would've bet money on it from the way you looked at me when I woke you up." He said, laughing bit as he said it. "Okay, I'm not going to say obsessed, but I have been told everything about you via Lily. And I do enjoy your music. But don't flatter yourself, I'm more of a Fleetwood Mac kind of girl." He throws his head back in laughter in response to my words. "Oh really? So I mean, you've got to be a little obsessed. You know everything about me! But, I understand the Fleetwood Mac thing. You were listening to them on repeat. Uh, I'm actually planning on meeting up with Stevie tonight a little after we get there, you're totally welcome to come if you want. I'm sure she'd love to meet you, and you seem chill enough." He said, a little too nonchalantly. I was not going to respond the same way. "Oh my god, are you serious? Are you seriously inviting me to meet Stevie Nicks? Oh my god. Sorry sorry sorry. I am chill. I swear. I can be chill. I would absolutely love to come if all that I just said didn't change your mind." I said, way too fast to be a chill response. He just laughed. "You're good, I'd love to have you there."He said, smiling at me.

...

The rest of the flight was like a fever dream. Me and Harry talked the entire time. About pretty much anything and everything. I talked a little too much about Lily and Jackson, probably, but Harry listened to everything I had to say, and completely hated them by the end of the flight.

After we got our baggage and went to the car pickup station, I began to order an uber to the nearest hotel to try and see if I could get a room, because we cancelled our big two-room suite, and I needed just a regular one room one now, but Harry turned to me and said, "Hey, you don't need to order an uber, I have a driver, I can give you a ride to your hotel if you'd like. Where are you staying?" He asked me. "Oh, I don't know yet. We were all supposed to stay in a hotel together, but now that it's just one of us instead of four we cancelled it, so I was just gonna try and find a hotel." He looked shocked when I said that, so I raised an eyebrow in question. "Oh, you can't be serious! Finding a last minute hotel in Italy is not a good idea, you're going to get overcharged like crazy because you're a foreigner." He said, looking genuinely worried. "Well didn't you book your trip last minute? What were your plans to get a hotel exactly?" I asked, putting a hand on my hip. "I don't need a hotel, I have a house here. I have like fifteen guest rooms. You're staying in one, not some shitty last minute hotel." He said, very matter-of-factly. "Oh my god, Harry, you absolutely do not need to do that, I'll be fine. What if I was psycho? What if this was some whole act and I actually am a crazy fan and you just invited me into your house? I'm supposed to be here for a whole month!" I said. "Well I guess I'm just going to have to take that risk, then," He said, looking over to a large black SUV pulling up to us, "Oh look, there's the car. Come on let's go. I give really good tours."

197 notes · View notes

anticomedygarden · 7 months

Note

Percabeth hurt/comfort post Tartarus ptsd?

Basic I know but you can't go wrong torturing some comfort characters 😂

one of my favorite pjo tropes! so so true, thanks for the prompt. (you're my first ever prompter! bit of a landmark for me :) )

Staring deeply into his blue comforter like it held the secrets of the world, Annabeth didn't need to be a child of Athena to know that her boyfriend wasn't really there with her. It wasn't the first time one of them had found the other like this, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

He wasn't making noise or moving, actually not doing anything at all, which led her to believe that he wasn't having a panic attack or a flashback. Dissociation then.

After a lot of trial and error following the titan war, they'd figured out touch - especially involving water - helped ground him the best, so she didn't bother with trying to talk to him, not knowing how far gone he was yet. Instead she got some ice out of the water bottle on his nightstand, happening to glance at the few pictures she'd been able to bring for him to Camp Jupiter. Sally, Grover, Tyson, Thalia, the Stolls, Clarisse, and a few other campers smiled back at her.

If she'd known they were going to fall into Tartarus, she'd have packed a few more.

Turning away from the photos with a sigh, she sat down cross-legged on his bed and winced when the mattress bouncing got no reaction from him, so she gently picked up his arm in the hand not holding the ice and starting rubbing it up and down his tan forearm.

"Percy?" she murmured. "I'm gonna count backward from 100, okay?"

Predictably, he didn't answer, but she started her countdown anyway, studying his form for any changes. His jet black hair was falling into his down cast eyes, low enough that she couldn't see his seagreen irises. His pants were creased where his elbows rested on them, and she realized he was wearing the same thing as he was when his watch ended an hour ago. It hurt to know that he could've been like this for so long and she had no idea, but there wasn't anything she could do, not without leaving the ship vulnerable.

Then - movement. His hand twitched; she didn't dare stop, though, not wanting to risk backslide, just kept on counting and rubbing the ice up and down his arm.

A few minutes later, he pulled in a sharp breath and sagged a bit so that the only thing Annabeth could see was the top of his head. She'd lost count of how many times she'd made it to a hundred and back at this point.

"Percy? Are you with me?" He waited a bit and nodded minutely. "Can you try and breathe with me?"

She drew in an exaggerated breath slowly and let it out even slower. He didn't join her, so she tried again. This time, he managed a shaky, slow breath that almost aligned with hers.

After a few minutes passed and he seemed to be more present, she put the ice down on the nightstand, and he sagged even more, head landing on her shoulder like his strings had been cut.

She ran her fingers through his thick curls, illiciting a sigh from him. "Hey, baby."

His breath hitched, and she was afraid for a moment he'd start panicking, but she soon felt her shoulder grow wet.

"We're together," she whispered, hoping his words from so many (weeks? days?) ago would bring him some comfort.

They were still the most important words in the world to her.

At some point, his hands must have unclenched because she felt his nails softly scrape her thigh. "How long was I gone?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "At least 15 minutes, an hour at most."

"Damn."

Sadly, he pushed himself off of her shoulder, leaving it cold and salty. "What's the last thing you remember?"

He looked off into the distance, thinking. "I remember sitting on the bed to get to ready to shower, and nothing else."

Her heart clenched as that meant he must have been gone closer to an bour. Do you have any idea what triggered you?"

"Uh...I think maybe when I looked across the hall and saw your empty bed..." He trailed off, and she nodded.

"I'll keep the door closed from now on," she promised. It wouldn't be any kind of major change since she never slept in that room anyway. The only reason it had been open was because of habit from Coach Hedge.

Now that Percy was present and they were both calmer, they started getting ready to shower, not wanting to be without the other. (Only shower. Neither of them were ready for more at the moment.) It wasn't long before they were climbing into bed together, both considerably more refreshed but exhausted from a long day on the Argo II.

It had to get better at some point. It just had to.

#percabeth #pjo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy jackon and the olympians #my writing #my fic #fanfic #angst #my fanfic #fluff #percabeth fanfic #percabeth fic #prompt #ficlet #ask #post house of hades #post tartarus

119 notes · View notes

wheels-of-despair · 1 year

Text

Draw Me Like One of Your Dwarf Girls, Eddie Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie decides to work on his drawing skills, and accidentally awakens a monster in the process. Contains: Titanic references, female nudity, a brush with death. Word Count: 1.3k-ish

"Draw me like one of your dwarf girls, Eddie," you say in a sultry voice, trying your hardest not to laugh.

"What did I tell you about talking?" He pauses to give you a pointed look, since he's already told you to pipe down several times. You roll your eyes, and he returns to his drawing with a renewed vigor.

It's early 1998, and you've recently dragged your poor Eddie to a theater to see that damn Titanic movie everybody and their mother keeps raging about. All 3 hours of it. You may have neglected to mention the runtime when you bought the tickets. You owe him.

He survived, but was suddenly faced with the desire to "work on his people-sketching skills." Which of course meant it took him less than a week to convince you to strip and pose like Rose on the couch, wearing only that red guitar pick necklace he's had since high school.

You're stretched out and exposed and already bored. Two hours ago, he'd adjusted your hand a quarter of an inch this way, your knee a quarter of an inch that way, and you'd been instructed not to move.

Well, it felt like two hours, but it was really only about 30 minutes.

With nothing else to do, and being mildly disappointed that he didn't find your commentary amusing, you watch his eyes follow the pencil scratching across the paper you can't see. He's cute when he's concentrating. Tongue poking out, brow furrowed, that spark of creativity in his eye. It must be going well, because he smiles occasionally. He even giggled once. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably had something to do with a nipple. It was a little chilly.

"Just as I thought; it's a masterpiece."

"Are you done?" You'd only been in this position for an eternity.

"Oh yeah, this baby's getting framed." Ignoring you, he holds his sketch pad out to view it at an arm's length, beaming at his creation.

"Can I move now?!"

"Yeah, you can move."

You stretch your stiff limbs and get up off the couch, reaching for the flannel he'd discarded on a chair nearby, buttoning a few buttons as you pad over to where he sat admiring his work.

You place a hand on his back and look over his shoulder at the figure on his sketchbook. You're confused, but you can't take your eyes off of it. You can't think of anything to say. Until…

"What. The FUCK. Is THAT."

He looks up innocently and says, "What? I was just following instructions. You kept talking, figured I better listen."

You have no words.

You do, however, have a fucking BEARD in Eddie's drawing.

He sits there, looking up at you with a proud grin on his face, waiting for you to react.

You stare at him wordlessly, still in a state of shock.

Until he laughs at you. LAUGHS AT YOU.

Your brain begins to swirl furiously, until it flashes one word: KILL.

You clench your fists, and he begins to sense that you're not going to start laughing with him. His eyes widen, and he jumps out of his chair, vaults over the coffee table, and stands on the couch.

"I can explain," he says quickly, trying to sound calm, steps unsteady on the cushions.

You can explain too. Explain to the responding officers how one Edward James Munson met his gruesome demise.

"It's Tolkien."

You ignore him and advance slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Eyes unblinking. Blood boiling. Steam probably coming out of your ears. He jumps off the couch as you approach the coffee table.

"It's from a book!" He's walking backward, holding out his sketch pad like a lion tamer with a chair.

His eyes bulge as he hits something solid. You've backed him into a corner. Literally.

"Tolkien! Middle-earth! The Hobbit! Nerd shit!"

Nerd shit won't save you now, Munson. You narrow your eyes and prepare to go in for the kill. He panics.

"Dwarf women have beards! It was a joke! I'm sorry! I love you!"

The "I love you" makes you pause, just as you were about to pounce and slash your prey to pieces. The hell?

"What?" you ask, giving your head a slight shake in confusion.

"Dwarf women have beards. In the books. You said to draw you like a dwarf. It was a joke. I thought you'd know what it was."

"You thought I'd know some random detail from a book I haven't read in over a decade?"

"I mean, it's a pretty memorable detail…"

You roll your eyes, heave a sigh, and pinch the bridge of your nose. Why is this not surprising?

"So you're not gonna kill me?" He's still backed into his corner. You consider it for a moment, deciding that you've played with him enough for today.

"Not tonight, Munson."

He exhales and leans his head back against the wall.

"But I WILL get you for this," you threaten, pointing a finger at him. He nods, used to this constant back-and-forth game you'd both been playing for over a decade. He knew you'd never really hurt him, just like you knew he wouldn't hurt you either. It was just a game.

You turn to walk away, and hear him whisper to the abomination he's still clutching: "Don't worry baby, you're still gettin' framed."

You whip around, eyes flashing. He gulps. You step closer, making him lean further back into the wall. He's cute when he's scared.

"Give it."

He stares at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his.

"Give it," you repeat, holding out a hand and waiting for him to place his sketchbook into it.

Reluctantly, he hands it to you. You maintain eye contact as your fingers find the thick cover page, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at his ungodly creation again. You slam it shut and he flinches.

"What are you gonna do with it?"

Beat your nerdy ass to death with it.

Still clutching his sketch pad, you step back silently and gesture for him to walk on by with your free hand. He slowly peels himself off the wall and begins to move with an apprehensive look in your direction, and a thought occurs to you.

As he scurries past you, you smack him on the ass with his sketchbook. He whirls around with a yelp, hands clutching his cheeks. It's cardboard, you drama queen. You step closer and swing the book at his arm.

"You made me lay there for AN HOUR! While! You! Drew! That!" You punctuate each word with another smack of the sketch pad. He continues overreacting to each hit and falls to the floor with a wail when you finish yelling, clutching his imaginary wounds. You lift the book above your head with both hands, ready to finish him.

"It started out real! But I couldn't make it look like you! It wasn't pretty enough!" You graciously decide to let him continue, still holding the sketchbook in an attack position, just in case. "I tried," he explains calmly now, "but it wasn't working out, and then you said the dwarf thing, and I thought it would be funny. I'll make it up to you."

"Damn right, you will." You lower the book and release it. It lands on his chest with a light thud. He grins from his position on the floor. You step over him and make your way toward the bedroom.

"Starting now," you inform him from the hallway, not slowing or turning around. You hear him scramble to get up, knock something over, and curse before he hurries in your direction.

He's lucky he's cute.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #oh look she finally wrote a sexy story #psychhh #*cackles*#keep in mind that this is pre-lotr movies #tolkien specifics are not common knowledge #even when you live with a nerd who probably rambles nonstop #i've been trying to read those books since 2001 and have never made it more than one chapter into the hobbit #were it not for the movies i'd know nothing #don't try to logic at me kids #this started as a 2 am joke in someone's askbox #and then it snowballed... or iceberged if you will #not me having to edit a thing because i kept writing and ended up contradicting my own ew-verse

373 notes · View notes