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lalal-99 · 2 years

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43, 54, n 82 for the Drabble thing please!!! With Hyunjin 😩💜

43 "Do you trust me?" 54 "You're doing so well. Just a little more." 82 "Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart."

Hyunjin x afab!reader | established relationship | explicit sexual content | exploring kinks | 3k words

Synopsis: When your boyfriend introduces you to the beautiful world of ropes and blindfolds, you can't wait to have him show you all that he knows.

Note: Uff… Honestly, I enjoyed writing this maybe a little too much. This is my first venture into bondage (and light bdsm), so please be kind. I'm not a pro and if there are any mistakes, please point them out to me.

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_____________

Just a taste

"Do you trust me?"

"I… I do."

And you really did. You trusted Hyunjin more than you had ever trusted anyone before him, but your answer still sounded unsure.

"I'll need you to sound a little more enthusiastic and less scared for your life," he chuckled, his finger softly running over the curve of your cheek.

"Sorry. I'm just a little nervous."

In your head, everyone doing this for the first time had to be at least slightly scared. Because what if the ropes neatly binding your bare arms behind your back cut off the blood supply to your hands? Or, what if the ball gag beside your almost naked body made it so hard for you to breathe that you'd fall unconscious? Sure, Hyunjin seemingly had a lot of experience with this kind of stuff. Still, things could go wrong.

"I want to do this. With you," you assured Hyunjin as you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

"Good."

The smile appearing on your boyfriend's face told you that he finally had enough consent to do this with you. Or rather to you. And honestly, you were extremely excited about all of this.

Ever since the two of you had decided to dabble into the more kinky side in bed, you found yourself intrigued at the thought. Up until now, your sex life had been vanilla, if anything. Apparently, Hyunjin had a lot more experience in this field, and you were more than willing to have him show you what else the bedroom had to offer.

"Remember what we agreed on?"

"Of course. Green – everything's good, yellow – slow down, red – stop. I'm well aware of how traffic lights work." You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend. He must have already explained the system to you a dozen times.

"Getting bold already? Maybe I should leave you bound like this for an hour or two – see how much of that is left in you after," Hyunjin pondered as he took the ball gag while readjusting beside your limp body. Your eyes opened wide at this threat, a deep chuckle leaving his lips. "On second thought, I can just gag you. That will certainly shut you up."

As you eyed the object laying over his fingers, you swallowed hard. This, for some reason, was the part you dreaded the most. Hyunjin noticed your changing demeanour, immediately discarding the gag on the bedside table.

"Or, we can just leave this out. We can always come back to it another time."

"Thank you," you spoke almost silently as you relaxed.

"Don't thank me just yet. I'm still gonna use this." He held up the blindfold, scooting further up the mattress and eventually landing beside your upper body. "Head!" he ordered, and you obeyed, lifting your head so he could put the fabric over your eyes. "See. Much easier without your bratty commentary, isn't it?"

The moment your sight was taken from you, you fell into a dream-like state, all your other senses heightening at the loss of light. You could still see shadows through the thin material, but that was hardly enough. The room was dark as is, and by adding the blindfold, you were pretty much blind.

"You look absolutely divine like this, do you know that?" His hands ran over the cups of your new bra – the only thing cladding your body besides your panties. Because it was a special night – you diving into this unknown world of bondage and letting someone else control your body – Hyunjin had gotten you a new set of black lingerie. It was one you would have never bought on your own, the amount of money ridiculous to you for how little fabric it consisted of, but he had insisted on it. And he liked it, so what the hell. "You look even prettier than I expected."

The mattress below you dipped as Hyunjin got off the bed, opening his belt buckle and letting his pants fall to the parquet floor. At least that's what you assumed from the clicking noise you heard. He made his way through the room, seemingly shutting the drapes further, before heading back to your body.

"Do you know how often I dreamed of this very moment?" Hyunjin questioned as you felt his long fingers hover over the skin of your stomach. You flinched at how suddenly he had appeared beside you; You couldn't be sure where he was situated at any given moment. "You, giving yourself to me completely, letting me take control over your perfect body."

As his hands roamed over you – first your stomach, then your neck and chest, almost touching but never closing the gap – you felt goosebumps rise all over your body. You could feel his presence even without seeing him or hearing him talk.

"Can you feel the rush of excitement? Not knowing what I will do next or where I will touch you next?" Hyunjin questioned as his hand pulled down your bra, leaving the cups lingering below your unsteady breasts. A gush of cool air hit them as Hyunjin blew against them, a shiver coursing through you. You just knew he was smiling proudly at your reaction. "It's suffocating and intoxicating at the same time, isn't it?"

"Hyunjin, please!" Your voice couldn't have been above a whisper.

"Begging already? Guess all it took was taking your sight from you," he pondered before sticking his tongue out and letting the tip of it run over one of your nipples for a second. As quickly as it was there, making your back arch and your legs squeeze together, the stimulation was gone again. A frustrated groan left your lips. "Exhilarating, isn't it?"

Hyunjin drew away from you completely as the cold took over you immediately. The second you couldn't feel him all over you anymore, a desperate whimper left your lips as you realised that this most likely wouldn't happen as fast as you had anticipated. And yet, you were intrigued.

How long would it take him to finally give you what you craved? And more importantly, how long you would be able to take it?

Because you wanted to be good, and last; For Hyunjin.

Too bad you didn't know just how long he would be able to control his own urges just to set yours on fire.

_____________

Your throat was hoarse, making it so hard to swallow. All the saliva had dried up at the constant denial of pleasure, your body weak as you felt yet another high approach.

It was close, so close you could almost taste it as Hyunjin's face was pressed up against your heat, lips soaked from the wetness as though he had swallowed it right out of your mouth. The sounds emitting the lustful scenery below you were nothing short of arousing.

Hyunjin's lips wrapped around your clit, tongue circling it as though he was born to pleasure you. His fingers relentlessly pumped in and out of your core as they kept their pressure against that sweet spot inside you.

Right now, right at this moment, you were sure you had never been so close to your sweet release, desperate whimpers escaping your lips like a mantra. Your hands, which were still bound behind your back, pressed up against your spine, nails digging into your own flesh as you tried not to have your boyfriend notice just how close you were. Because, maybe, if he didn't know, he'd finally let you come.

Unfortunately, you weren't doing that good of a job preventing him from noticing as his fingers stilled inside of you, his mouth withdrawing from your heat just as you were about to hit the sweet peak.

"No! Please, Hyunjin!" you groaned frustratedly as a single tear fell from your eyes, running down your cheek. You had been so close, your body silently pulsating as though he was still touching you.

"You're doing so well. Just a little more."

Maybe if Hyunjin had told you just how long he wanted to tease you – how often he planned on pushing you so far and letting you crash right before you could finish – it would have been easier to take it. The suspense was probably the worst part about all of this, as you expected this to finally be the end with every time he brought you right to the edge.

"I can't… I can't take it!" you tried to convince Hyunjin, though he reacted the same way he had done the last handful of times you had assured him you were at the end of your power.

"What colour?" The question you dreaded more than anything at this moment made you swallow as you felt some saliva pooling in your mouth. For a second, you debated lying, telling him that you actually couldn't take it anymore, though you just couldn't bring yourself to it. Somehow, you couldn't lie.

"Gr-" You were cut off as you felt his fingers pick up their pace inside you again. "Fuck! Green. So fucking green."

"That's what I thought," Hyunjin smirked as he pressed wet kisses against your thighs, his tongue slipping past his lips every few centimetres. "You're so good for me."

"Please, Hyunjin. I need to come. I can't take this any longer," you tried yet again, feeling him move further up your body as his fingers kept their slow pace inside you.

"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart." Hyunjin's lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking firmly at the flesh as the tips of his fingers hit your sweet spot again, making you arch your back against him. "Can you feel how perfectly your walls wrap around my fingers, almost swallowing my whole hand?"

"Ugh," you groaned as he swapped nipples, giving your second one as much attention as he had given the first one.

"You've been so good for me. I feel like I should reward you."

When you felt Hyunjin move even further up your body, you expected him to finally give you a taste of the real deal, replacing his fingers with his length. He had gotten rid of his briefs some time ago, his painfully hard erection brushing up against your leg every once in a while. When his free hand made its way behind your head, untying the blindfold, you were as disappointed as you were relieved.

Not exactly what you had hoped for, but it was something.

"You look amazing this fucked out. I could watch you all day."

When Hyunjin's plump, wet lips met yours in a heated kiss, a sigh left your mouth. You hadn't realised that you hadn't shared a kiss yet until it finally happened, and somehow, this made your situation a little more bearable.

Hyunjin pushed his tongue into your mouth after a few seconds, meeting yours immediately as you felt his fingers speed up below. You had almost forgotten about them in the softness of the moment, though when his thumb danced over your clit you were quickly pulled back to reality.

Your lips opened in a hopeless attempt to catch some air as you felt your next edge approach slowly but just as certainly. Hyunjin bit your lower lip as he pulled at the flesh, his eyes focused on your facial expressions. A smirk spread on his face when he noticed just how much frustration your eyes held.

"So beautiful." That was all he said before his fingers sped up, pushing against the same soft spot inside you again. How Hyunjin found it so effortlessly every time, you couldn't tell. All you knew at this moment was that no one had ever made you crave your release as much as he did. "How much do you hate me right now?"

"So, so much. I hate you so much," you answered as your nails dug into the skin over your spine again, the muscles in your arms threatening to rip the rope any moment. That's what it felt like, at least. Obviously, you could have never literally broken through the thick material keeping your arms in place behind your back. "But.. Fuck.. I love you. Please, Hyunjin! I need you."

As you stared up at him in so much hatred and adoration that it could last for a lifetime, you saw something change in his features. Somehow, you declaring your love for him while begging him to let you come was doing something to him. Even though you weren't capable of forming coherent sentences at the moment, your mind started racing, trying to make this revelation work for your benefit.

"I love you so much. I need your cock inside of me right now." Hyunjin's lower lip was caught by his teeth, as you realised it was becoming harder for him to control himself. "Please, fuck me, Hyunjin. I never needed anything as much as you, burying your cock inside me. You feel so good, made for me."

"Fuck."

That just one word could turn things around was a surprise, even for you. You had expected Hyunjin to withstand his urges through more than simple begging. Maybe, since it was the first time you did this, he decided that he should go easy on you. Perhaps he was too riled up himself to keep going. No matter why he decided to finally give in to your pleads, you felt so relieved when he did.

The second you his fingers left you, his length replaced them, slipping in as easily as ever. Other than his fingers, his cock hit every single part of you, enforcing the fullness you had felt before.

"You're taking me so well, baby."

You threw your head back at the praises, finally feeling some sort of ease take over you. His lips soon came to your throat, kissing their way over the hot skin as you got closer and closer to your release.

Your legs wrapped around Hyunjin's back so he couldn't draw away if he were to change his mind. There was no way you'd let him edge you even one more time when he felt so perfect inside of you.

"I'm so close," you told him more as a warning than a request, though he seemed to have a different idea.

"Not yet. Hold it!" It was an order – one you didn't want to disobey, too scared of what he'd do to you if you did. If there was one thing the past hour had taught you, it was that easy just wasn't Hyunjin.

"God, please, Hyunjin." As you were begging for him to give you permission to release, you felt your walls begin to crumble. You were shaking so bad, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tried to hold it. Which was so hard, seeing as you had been prevented from coming more times than you could count.

"Just a little longer, baby." You could tell that Hyunjin wouldn't need that much longer to join you, though you doubted that you'd hold it long enough. Just one wrong move from his side, and you'd be falling. You were clenching all over his dick as tears started streaming out of your eyes from how desperately you tried holding back. "Tell me you love me again. Tell me how much you need me!"

"I need you… like… I need air to breathe..." Forming coherent sentences was becoming more and more impossible with every passing second. When Hyunjin's hand came to your throat, softly pressing against it, you felt him twitch inside of you. "I love you so much, baby..."

"Now, baby. Let go!"

As if his word was your command, you let go that second, hitting your peak as forcefully as you had never done before. Your body shook uncontrollably – you almost believed you'd never stop spasming from how hard your orgasm hit you.

Hyunjin's name left your mouth, over and over again, as he released your throat from his grip. The air filling your lungs paired with the delicious taste of your high was a sensation you were yet to have witnessed.

You felt Hyunjin come inside you, his release almost as feral as yours. His hair stuck to his forehead as droplets of sweat hit your body below him. When he pushed his lips up against yours, you closed your eyes as he stilled inside of you.

It took you a while to come down from your high, maybe minutes – you couldn't have been sure. When Hyunjin finally released your arms from their restraints with a simple pull on the rope, you realised they weren't as numb as you had predicted. Apparently, Hyunjin was more of a pro than you had imagined.

"You okay?" The concern in his voice made you smile.

"I'm more than okay," you assured your boyfriend as you pulled him down for an innocent kiss. Your heart was still beating way fast as you took another second to catch your breath. "I had no idea you were this good at all of this."

"I'm full of surprises," he shrugged as he pulled the duvet at your feet over your sweaty bodies. "So, you liked it? It wasn't too much for you?"

"Are you kidding me? Had I known you were capable of all this," you gestured to the ropes discarded on the floor beside your bed, "we would have tried it way earlier. I really think you got me hooked."

"Sweet. I already can't wait to show you some of the other stuff I'm into." His fingers traced the lines of your face as you looked at him in confusion.

"Wait. There's more?"

The look of amusement on his face was answer enough.

"Oh, baby. There is so much more I wanna show you. This was merely a taste of all the beautiful things I wanna do to you."

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sinnabee · 9 months

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Here's an interesting question for your Magician AU: How do the boys have their magic in the first place? Are some people just born with it, or were they made by a magician, or did they obtain it, or what?

ALRIGHT.

i know its been... ages. sorry about that.

i originally had some steapunk-ish magical worldbuilding ideas, but it also had weird mafia themes because i was in my Sleuth Jesters Era then. so we scrapped that.

HOWEVER. i can still answer this one!!! answer under the readmore :D

basically, everything living has the "potential" to do magic. it's a part of life - to live, you have a magical core. period. however, MOST people can't access this core. sometimes they can, but only subconsciously. this might manifest as someone with a green thumb, who is just weirdly good with plants. or maybe they have an affinity for animals. or perhaps their cooking is spectacular! little things. (this doesn't mean every talent or skill someone has is a latent magical ability, just that it has been known to manifest. you can be a great cook and have a completely dormant magical core.

now, some beings have either a stronger magical core, or maybe just get lucky and have something that kicks it into gear, making it "active" rather than "dormant." these people can perform magic! lots of different types! illusions, scrying, elemental affinities, manipulating the laws of space and time and all that jazz! they can also get really really good at party tricks lmao.

maybe some of them are even craftspeople - those with active cores that can imbue inanimate objects with magic. :)

so, that's how it is with humans. speaking of imbuing inanimate objects with magic - and therefore life - animatronics.

so here's the deal - magic runs through everything. one of the most common natural sources of magic comes from leylines, shifting currents of magic that travel across the planet. (someone feel free to correct me if im doing leylines a disservice by dropping them in here, im just going with a generic "fantasy novel" definition.)

as it turns out, highly advanced animatronics with incredibly powerful learning AI's and personality chips are what one might call "susceptible" to natural magic, and leylines. Fazbear Entertainment flew a little too close to the sun on this one - eventually their creations became so advanced that, to magic, they appeared as a perfect vessel to fill with life.

Magic saw Freddy Fazbear and said "is anybody gonna turn this thing into a fantastic dad and sentient being?" and then didn't wait for an answer.

Once the magical community REALIZED what had happened - that magic had taken the next "evolutionary step," of sorts, the magical community had no choice but to fight for the rights of what they KNEW were living, thinking, feeling beings.

Since I'm no longer taking the "steampunkish" vibes for the magician AU, I'm going this route instead - it's the regular old modern world, BUT. Animatronics have been found sentient and given rights. It just so happens that, in the context of the Magician!au, Sun and Moon (and Eclipse) found magic to be really, REALLY fun. They chose a career that would let them utilize it in plain sight, and still have tons of interaction with people - Magicians!

Important context is that the magical community is very much hidden from the mundane one. Technically, all animatronics are actually witches, just like humans who have active magical cores. Sun, Moon, and Eclipse can get away with using their magic in front of mundanes because of the job they chose! :D

Part of the reason it was so easy to convince the magical community to fight for animatronic rights was because magic doesn't just bring anything vaguely human shaped to life. If it did, there wouldn't be a need for necromancers - the planet's natural magic would be raising the dead left and right. No, it was that animatronics met all the criteria magic needed to consider something "alive," and so it just. Took the final step. :)

AN IMPORTANT SIDE EFFECT OF THIS, HOWEVER - due to the nature of animatronics technically being more akin to "constructs" than a naturally "born" creature, they have inherent access to their magic. ALL animatronics can perform magic. Which was the OTHER reason the council and magical community fought so hard for their rights - they had to get these guys some kind of TRAINING before they exposed the entire magical community to the planet.

I hope that covers everything!!! Thanks for the ask!!!! <3

#ask #ketho484 #magician!au #fnaf sb #fnaf au #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf eclipse #magician!sun #magician!moon #magician!eclipse #worldbuilding #long post #lore #omg i have lore now #who'd a thunk???

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 09: Somnophilia (A Witches’ Brew)

Day 09: Somnophilia Title: A Witches’ Brew Pairing: Witch Shindou x F!Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: noncon, somnophilia, mind control, manipulation, drugging via potion, quirk use, Stockholm-ish, yandere Note: I stayed up late to finish this and now I am very tired. Hope you guys like 😂

Kinktober Masterlist

The first thing you hear when you open the door to the shop is the ding of the bell hanging above the entrance. You glance around and see an absolutely enormous amount of magic supplies, some you know the purpose of and some you don’t. Along one wall are floor to ceiling bookshelves, and there’s also a wall of magic potions and artifacts.

As you’re looking around, you hear the voice of what you assume to be the owner call out to you. He’s tall, with a muscular build and dark black hair and a smile that could light up a room.

“Hello, welcome to my shop! Can I help you find anything?”

“Hi, yes, I - “ You can’t bring yourself to finish that sentence, too embarrassed by what you’re after to even be able to say it.

“It’s okay,” the man smiles at you, and it's so warm that you can’t help but return it. “There’s no judgment here, I promise.”

“Well in that case,” you say hesitantly, “I’m here for a love potion.”

“Oh, I can definitely help you with that.” He motions for you to follow him to the back of the store. “My name is Shindou, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Shindou.” You tell him your name before explaining why you’re here. “The love potion - it’s not how you’re thinking,” you say quickly. “I don’t want to force someone. Just make it a bit easier, maybe?”

He laughs gently as he glances back at you. “I told you, no judgement from me.”

Finally you reach a door that he unlocks and opens for you to walk through. In this room is a large cauldron and a worktable full of various magic components. “Feel free to sit down, and we can talk about what you’re looking for.”

You choose a chair a respectful distance away from the worktable, but one where you can still see everything going on. Magic has always fascinated you, and you don’t want to miss the chance to watch it in action.

“Well, I’ve been having such bad luck lately. All of the guys I’ve tried to go out with have canceled, or dropped out of my life entirely. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Your voice takes on a slight tremble at the last sentence, the constant rejection finally getting to you.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” Shindou scoffs. “If someone doesn’t want you, then they’re idiots.”

“You really think so?” You give him a shy smile.

“Of course I think so.” He turns away from you as he picks out various vials and strange looking ingredients, laying them out in front of him. “You said you only wanted something to help you out a bit?”

“Yes, exactly! I don’t want to alter anyone’s mind or anything.”

His smile has a hint of a smirk, eyes darkening just enough that you can notice. But it vanishes in the next second, leaving you to wonder if you only imagined it. “You’re so good hearted.”

He takes a mortar and pestle, grinding something into a fine paste that he puts in a bowl. He also grabs a red liquid and a green liquid, measuring them out before adding them to the potion he’s creating.

“I’ll need a hair of yours,” he reaches out to you before pulling his hand back. “Assuming you don’t mind, of course.”

“No, go ahead, I don’t mind.”

His finger traces a line down your jaw, causing you to shiver a bit at his touch. He smiles at your reaction before grabbing a piece of hair around your face and pulling it out. It’s just a few small strands of hair, and you watch as he puts them into the bowl and stirs them up.

“Why do you need my hair?” You can’t help but ask. “I don’t mean any offense, just curious.”

“Oh, since you’re wanting a more general love spell, I’m adding yours so that you’re the focus of the spell.”

You give a quick nod at his explanation. You know nothing about magic, and his reasoning makes sense. The reason you went to Shindou above a handful of other witches was because he came highly recommended by everyone you talked to.

The smell of the potion quickly fills the room, almost overpoweringly strong. It doesn’t smell bad, but it quickly gives you a bit of a headache, causing you to stand up and walk just a short distance away in an attempt to find a bit of fresh air. You see his hands move quickly through finishing the potion, mixing it up thoroughly before handing a small vial to you.

“Thank you so much,” you whisper as you clutch the potion to your chest. “How much do I owe you?”

“We can discuss payment in a second,” he stares at you with a look of deep intensity. “Why don’t you drink the potion first?”

“Why, is there something that could go wrong?”

“Nothing bad, I assure you. But potions can have different effects for different people to begin with, and I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He steps a few paces closer, rubbing down your arm with one hand. “Please humor me?”

You laugh as you uncork the potion bottle. “How can I say no to that?” You throw back the vial, throat working as you drink the whole thing in one rush. It tastes much better than you would have thought, but once you finish the bottle, you feel yourself sway on your own feet as dizziness overtakes you.

The bottle slips through your fingers before shattering on the hard floor below, and your knees buckle. Shindou wraps an arm around you before lifting you gently, gazing down at you with a look you can’t place.

But you think it looks like victory.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Shindou chuckles to himself as he carries you to his bedroom using a secret doorway that only he can see.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you to come into my shop, sweetheart?” Shindou muses at your unconscious form. He lays you gently on his bed, trailing his hands down your body as he begins to undress you. “I was getting so impatient watching you look at everyone but me.”

He unbuttons your shirt and bra before throwing them over his shoulder, and then slips down your pants to reveal your lacy pink panties. “They would have only hurt you. I did you a favor, sweetheart.” He trails a finger up your clothed slit, causing your body to jerk a bit. “They won’t treat you well as I will.”

He activates his quirk slightly, fingers vibrating against the sensitive skin of your clit through your panties and drawing a deep moan from your throat. “See how responsive you are? Your body already knows you belong to me.”

He wraps a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deep kiss. He massages your tongue with his own, easily dominating your mouth with no resistance. His hand cups your breast, tracing feather light touches along your nipple and causing it to harden.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he moves down to your neck, sucking hard at your pulse point and leaving a trail of bruises wherever he kisses. “And I know you can hear all of this.”

As a response, your body trembles a bit in his grasp, and his chuckle is dark and amused. “The potion is doing its job. You're going to be able to feel everything I do to you.”

“This needy little body of yours is going to crave me.” He moves your panties to the side as his finger dips below, grinning as he feels how wet you are for him already. “Or maybe it already does.”

Two fingers slip into your heat as he kneels down, placing small kitten licks along your entrance. You let out a soft whine as you buck your hips up towards his mouth. “Since you can hear all of this, I’m going to explain what this potion will do to you.”

He curls his fingers up as he searches around on your inner walls, smirking when he finds a spot that causes you to clench around him. “I wasn’t lying when I said I could help you with a love potion,” he says conversationally, as if he wasn’t indulging freely in your body. “I just added a lock of my own hair when you weren’t looking.”

He lashes his tongue along your slit, licking up the wetness that has begun to leak out of you and nudging your clit with his nose. “The potion will make sure that you fall madly, obsessively in love with me, and only me. As it should be.”

And at that, he begins to slam his fingers against the spot he found, causing you to moan and clamp down around his fingers. Your hips buck back with his thrusts, and he knows you’re close already. You’re overly sensitive from the spell he laced into the potion, and when he sucks your clit into his mouth, you cum hard on his tongue, liquid gushing out of you that he laps up eagerly.

He doesn’t stop until you’re twitching to get away, body overstimulated and throbbing. Finally, he pulls away as he unzips his pants, removing them quickly and guiding his thick length towards your still fluttering pussy.

He snaps his hips in one quick movement, burying himself in your pussy instantly. “Fuck, you’re so damned tight,” he grunts as he begins to move. “You’re squeezing my cock so much that it's hard to move.”

His eyes light up for a brief second as he withdraws from you completely, glancing down at his cock and confirming what he’s thinking. There’s a slight amount of blood on the tip of his cock, and the sight makes him throb as he realizes he was the one to take your virginity.

He enters you again, but this time he makes short shallow thrusts as he tries to loosen your walls up a bit. The entire time, he strokes your clit with two fingers, activating his quirk and causing your head to fall back in pleasure as the vibrations run through you.

Finally he can move a bit easier, and his thrusts become savage, hard enough that your breasts bounce with every movement. You let out a broken moan as you near another orgasm, tears running down your eyes nd drool running out the side of your mouth. He grunts when your walls begin to flutter around his cock, balls tightening up towards his body as he reaches his own orgasm.

Your tight pussy milks his cock for every drop of cum in his aching balls, and he makes sure that he doesn’t pull out until he’s completely empty. He looks down at your fucked out form, cum oozing out of your pussy, neck covered in bruises and hickies. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful.

He gets up to retrieve a warm washcloth, using it to clean your body before he puts you in a pair of pajamas that he bought for you. After he’s done taking care of you, he goes to the bathroom and cleans himself up before climbing back into bed with you, pulling you tightly into his chest.

He holds you there, murmuring sweet nothings until you finally wake up, eyes fluttering open to see his face smiling down at you.

“Hey sweetheart,” Shindou murmurs as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Your face twists briefly into a mask of confusion, glancing around the room and at Shindou as if you’re trying to figure something out. “You - you gave me a potion, right? Brought me here and - “

You blush as you refuse to meet Shindou’s eyes, and you feel the deep rumble of his laughter against you. “Yes, I did. Is there a problem with that, sweetheart?” He pushes just a bit, wanting to make sure that the potion is in full effect. “I only did it because I love you so much.”

The look of concern and alarm falls from your face instantly as you smile back, rolling over to burrow your face into his chest. “Of course not. I love you too, Shindou.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @cissiewrites, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @emplosion22, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @armoredashley, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen

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subwaysurf45 · 3 years

Text

Winter Makes Ice (Ep.3)

Summary: you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

Words: 2799

Episode: Three

Warning: not much, flashbacks, talks of violence

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Two

Time: 1:00pm

Date: October 2nd 2024

It didn’t take long for everyone to board the helicopter and for it to take off, no one was lounging around this morning so they assembled quickly. Bucky sat by himself on the heli, the file was still open in his hands with the page turned to Dr. Wright. Bucky looked over the information that was given; he double and triple checked. There was a car waiting for them when they were going to arrive, Bucky would get dropped off and then Steve, Nat, and Wanda would drive around Halifax but would keep watch for a distress signal. Bucky made it clear it would only be him talking to the doctor, he was practicing his script in his head.

“Five minutes ‘till landing,” the pilot spoke into his headset, the sound went to their ears sounding like a 1940s radio show.

“Copy,” everyone replied without unison.

The plane got lower and lower until it touched the ground; it was a private tarmac for primarily military forces and other important people; SHIELD was always allowed to use it. Everyone got off the plane after the propellers began to slow down, Bucky had jumped off once while they were still at top speed and got flung forward but the air. The all black car stood a ways in front of them, they all took their bags and headed over.

“What a ride…” Steve muttered as he ran his hand against the perfect hood, this car was brand new and probably had never been in the sun before. It wasn’t a low sport car but rather an everyday car that was bullet proof and decked out with an AI on the inside, no one would take a second glance at it but the four of them marveled at how this car could fit in amongst others. The black rims matched the black tires and the black paint, this was Bucky’s dream car.

They all got in and the ride began, Steve drove while Wanda sat in the back with Bucky, Nat was in the passenger seat playing her music. Every so often Wanda would look over to Bucky, he could see her out of the corner of his eye, she’d give a sympathetic glance and maybe open her mouth as if she was about to say something but chose against it. Bucky had Dr. Wright’s address on the file sheet; he was giving directions to Steve as they drove through the colourful houses.

They had never seen houses like this, around four to five houses lined up next to each other, each of them were painted a different colour but they looked the same. Flowers grew in little holders under the two window sills at the front of the house, tulips were the most popular, vines would grow on the side where the sun didn’t shine too much and pain would chip around the bottom of the houses. Some houses still had Halloween decorations up, red leaves scattered on the ground and blew everywhere. There was a brown hue to the world around them, pumpkins were scattered on some door steps while other people still had Christmas lights up from last year.

Bucky tapped Steve’s head rest and the car slowed to a stop, they looked out to their left to see a house that looked like it belonged to the community. It wasn’t modern and square with sleek grey tiles on the outside, it was old and run down. A ghost hung from the single garage light, one pumpkin was sitting on the doorstep. This house didn’t look like one of a nazi group member, nevermind just a person with their doctorate.

Tons of leaves crunched under Bucky’s combat boots, the road was littered with them, it made it seem like it was a red and yellow road. He looked both ways as he crossed even though no cars were on the road except for the military grade undercover car, Bucky looked over his shoulder to see Wanda waving. They were going to head to a farmers market in this town to pass the time, and Bucky would walk over there when he was done. He gave a thumbs up and the car drove away and down the street, he didn’t watch to see it disappear, Bucky only had one thing on his mind and it wasn’t some apple pies Wanda was looking for.

The driveway looked new as well as the cobblestone walkway, one car was in the driveway and it looked to match the house, no crazy sports car. There was a screen door before an actual green wooden door, Bucky pulled back the screen and didn’t bother with the doorbell, he banged on the door. When he pulled his fist away there was a flake of green paint on his middle finger’s knuckle, a quick swipe and it was gone. Bucky stood back because he saw that in the movies, his back turned to the door as he looked out to the town. It was a lovely day, most people were probably at this farmer’s market, Bucky had never been to one even though you had offered to take him.

His head whipped back at the door opening, the same man, but only older, opened the door. He looked tired and worn out, this was probably his last Halloween. The cane he was holding was shaking in his grip, the other hand gripped the side of the door extremely tight. You could see the white through the speckled skin.

“What can I help you with, son?” the old man spoke with a smile, he licked his gums. A Canadian accent seemed almost cartoon-ish.

Bucky froze as he looked at this man, the sight of him brought him back to his nightmares and everything he’d been through. The name ‘son’ rolled off this man’s tongue and down Bucky’s spine and sent a shiver running all through him, it was obvious this man didn’t know who Bucky was. Bucky almost felt bad that he was bothering him, it was obvious he wasn’t a walker and standing seemed to be his exercise for the day, but at the same time Bucky couldn’t help but think about all the ways he could rip this doctor apart.

“Son?” the name came again.

Bucky looked up with a shake of his head, “hello, are you Dr. Wright?” he asked quietly.

“Yes it is, what do you need?” he didn’t seem freaked out that Bucky knew his name, it was a small town.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Bucky started but the man didn’t seem to figure it out, “I am the Winter Soldier- used to be actually…” Bucky added.

“Are you here to kill me?” the man’s voice shook, “because if you really are him then you have every right to do so,” he stepped back and opened the door for Bucky to walk in.

“I’m here to talk, you’re not going to die.” Bucky walked in and kicked off his combat boots, he’d heard it’s a thing in Canada to take your shoes off in the house. He also heard there was bagged milk which didn’t make any sense to him, but he wasn’t about to argue.

“That’s always good to hear, eh?” the accent slipped out again, it was weird for Bucky to see this man who haunted him just laughing. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” Dr. Wright asked as he made his way into the kitchen.

His house was small, not many walls as one room just faded into another. Knick-knacks littered shelves and tables, everything brought a homey feel to it all, the house was very lived in. “No thanks,” Bucky waved up a hand to signal no.

The doctor came and sat across from him, Bucky was sitting on a chair while Dr. Wright took the sofa, they both were wrapped in plastic. It made a squeaky sound when either of them moved but it didn’t seem to bother the doctor at all, Bucky one final time before swearing he wasn’t going to move again and hear that annoying sound. Both of Bucky’s hands were clasped in front of him, he felt too large and bulky for this petite chair, his fingers fiddled with each other. He’d pick and poke at the massive gloves he wore, his long sleeve was covering everything he needed.

“So, Dr. Wright-”

“Jacob, son,” he corrected, “though I am a doctor,” Jacob hesitated, “I go by Jacob.”

“Is that your real first name?” Bucky asked, he was met with a smile and nod, “then call me Bucky, please.” Bucky smiled back, there was a growing tension between the both of them but they chose to ignore it.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” Jacob seemed to relax at the name, he was scared of Bucky and Bucky could tell. This man had seen Bucky train for years on end, and Jacob knew what the Winter Soldier was capable of. “What do you need to talk to me about?” his cane rested beside him, his hand found its way there and just held it.

“I need to talk to you about Hydra, any information you have on the Iceland base- or any base in Halifax, Iceland, Greenland, and there’s one more…” Bucky brought a gloved hand to his stubbled chin, the leather making a rough noise when it brushed against the facial hair. “Oh! It was Newfoundland, anything you knew about those four places.”

Jacob thought for a moment, he didn’t have stubble to rub. Though he was old it was obvious he still thought that it was the old days, hair slicked back and a very fresh shave, facial hair wasn’t allowed unless you had grown it out in private. Bucky had always remembered Howard Stark’s mustache; he couldn’t picture him without it.

“I mean, I was just a scientist, I ran labs and tested things on animals. I didn’t come up with the world ending plans, I was never told the reason for what I was doing, I was just told to do it.” Jacob sounded worried, “when I used to work for Hydra I was worried for my life everyday, they were so paranoid all the time that someone could be a rat. If you said ‘hail Hydra’ a little too quietly then you’d have a bullet between your eyes, I just kept my head down and did what I was told.” Jacob’s hand got increasingly tighter on the handle of his cane.

“Was there something new they were working on?” Bucky asked, and he pulled out a little flip book to keep track.

“I quit a total of ten years ago, when I was seventy-one, the only thing they were thinking of was keeping you in their grasp, there was no other plan.” Jacob shrugged, “Hydra couldn’t see a life source without you, they never intended on losing you the way they did.”

“So you have no idea what they could possibly be working on, at all?” the hope Bucky had was falling, this was the only lead they knew and if all he could say was there was never a plan B, you were screwed.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I really want to help, but I just don’t know.” Jacob stood and walked back to the kitchen. He filled a glass of water and grabbed three pills from a container before heading back over to his seat.

“Out of the four places I mentioned, Iceland, Greenland, Halifax, and Newfoundland,” Bucky paused and watched Jacob mutter them to himself and then take the pills, “which one is the strongest?”

Jacob swallowed his pills with water, “Iceland.” without any hesitation, no second guess, nothing giving away he was lying for didn’t know. “Iceland was hell for me, it has the best of the best for agents, scientists, and…” he glanced out the window, “cells and tourture.”

Bucky shot up right away, he headed to the door. Jacob followed him, glass still in his hand. When Bucky was about to leave Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder. When Bucky turned back around the hand traveled along the center of his chest, “I'm not wired, Jacob.” Bucky eased.

“Some things just come second nature, son.” Jacob kept his head down, “y’know, I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was making my old man proud, but I never stopped to realize what I was doing was actually wrong.” Jacob looked up with glossy eyes, “I actually wanted to find you at some point because I know I was the one who woke you up last, I remember clearly the way you looked, right then, I knew I needed to leave that place.” Jacob shuffled over and stood completely square to Bucky, Bucky just looked down at Jacob with a face of horror. The man Bucky saw every night was crying and apologizing to him, he didn’t know anyone who worked with Hydra had a heart. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” Jacob reached in his back pocket, he had placed the glass of water on a side table. “Here, take some money-”

“No, none of that, Jacob, really,” Bucky held his hands out, “you’re forgiven, don’t worry about all that, I just need to find someone.” Bucky reached for the door.

“What do you mean?” Jacob fished in his wallet.

“Hydra stole my girlfriend, I think she's in Iceland.” Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together at Jacob who was given him a coin.

“I think you’re right,” Jacob dropped the coin in Bucky’s palm before closing the door, the screen door creaked as it shut quickly with the wind.

Time: 2:33pm

Date: October 2nd 2024

Steve, Nat, and Wanda were walking around on the closed road, stands of every fruit and pastry lined the streets. Wanda was on top of the moon, she had a tote bag with some apple turnovers in them, that was really all she wanted. Nat had actually bought something too, Steve was genuinely surprised when Nat bought some earrings from a vendor, they were very small and dainty moons that would go in her ear lobes. Steve didn’t buy anything but just liked walking around, there was a lot to see but in a good way, no screens or jumbotrons, just people being people.

As Bucky made eye contact with Steve, Steve’s phone rang. Nat and Wanda rushed up to Bucky and were asking how it went, but the unknown caller was what Steve was focusing on.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve lowered his voice.

“Captain Rogers,” an all too familiar voice hit his ear.

“King T’Challa?” Steve turned his back to the group.

“We have three Hydra agents in custody, they tried to take out my sister,” his accent flowed and bounced as he talked.

“Keep them in the cells, we’re on our way.”

“Will there be more of them?” T’Challa asked before he could hang up.

“I don’t know, but hold them and don’t kill them, they might be our only hope.” Steve said his goodbyes and hung up.

When he turned back to Bucky and the rest of them, they seemed scared, Bucky had overheard Steve’s call, super hearing, and was looking at him weird.

“What was that?” Bucky asked.

“King T’Challa, says there was an attempted hit on Shuri, doesn’t know where they came from but they want her.” Steve shoved his phone in his back pocket, “what did you find?”

Bucky just held up a silver coin, “we’re going to Iceland.”

“We need to go to Wakanda,” Steve stepped forward.

“Not all four of us,” Nat pulled everyone aside from the farmer’s market, “I’ll go with Steve to Wakadna, you go with Wanda to Iceland. We’ll be talking and before you ambush the Hydra base in Iceland we’ll confirm y/n is in there, deal?” She looked to the other three.

“Deal.”

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine @commonintrest @buckyys-doll @lil-baby-nor

let me know if you want a tag!

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes series #bucky #bucky x yn #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #winter #winter soldier #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #winter soldier series #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst

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savemesomenachos · 3 years

Note

if you still taking request can you made a one shot with Sebastian stan and a reader with a 20ish years age gap ? fluffy pls

I adore!!!!! Have fun✨

You can find my other works on my Main Masterlist.

Heaven

AN: Also, why do I always assume Seb says doll and has a Brooklyn-ish drawl like Bucky does? It’s still cute and makes my insides tingle so imma go with it.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan × Reader

Warnings: Just another fluffy day with Seb, some angst and brief insecure! Reader, significant age gap ( Seb-38y, Reader-20y), Mentions of nudity but no smut

Word Count: 1330

Y/n’s POV:

It was raining again and all the waterlogging in the city allowed for a much needed holiday. So here I was at 10 in the morning, still in bed. But the best part was the man next to me. Sebastian was barely home because of all the work he’s been doing.

Now he finally is after months. I was so excited to see him yesterday that I surprised him by picking him up at the airport. He was so ecstatic to see me that he dropped his bags, ran over to me and spun me around right in the middle of the exit. I hadn’t smiled so wide in a really long time.

“Mmm,” I heard from beside me. I shifted to lie on my chest while the sheets moved with me. The sheets bunched dangerously low on his bare waist. If he moved even a little, the sheets would be off him.

“Whatcha looking at doll?” his gravelly voice sounds near my ear.

I squeal in surprise. When I turn my head to look at him, he’s right in front of my face. I blush a deep red and nuzzle my face into his warm chest while he laughs.

“I was just looking,” I whisper as I pull myself up to his face with my elbows. “I missed you,” I breathe against his lips.

He takes that as his cue to pull me into a kiss that makes me dizzy. My hand instinctively bury themselves in his hair. He smiles against my lips while curling his arms around my waist and he locks his hand at the base of my spine. I hum in satisfaction as his chest touches mine while our heartbeats seem to sync. The pit in my stomach that had been existent ever since he left starts to seal itself back together the minute his lips collided with mine.

A particularly sharp tug on his hair makes him pull away from me but I’m not satisfied just yet. I yank the sheets off myself completely and straddle his hips.

“Baby?” he questions, confused. I cut him off with a hard kiss to his lips. He moans in surprise but before I could deepen the kiss, he tugs me away from his lips.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asks, concern written all over his face.

“Nothing, I just missed you,” I say, leaning down to kiss him again. His face contorts into a knowing look.

“I swear, Bash. There’s nothing,” I say again, squirming under his scrutinous gaze.

“You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?” he asks as he cradles my head to his chest with a hand wrapped around my back. I pull the sheets back over us as I nestle my face into his thick neck. I only sigh in response and cuddle further into him.

“Well, if you do wanna talk about it, I’m here, m’kay?” he asks, running his hand down my sheet covered back.

“I know,” I murmur into the soft hair of his chest and place a kiss on his heart for good measure.

We lay in silence for a while. The sound of our breathing and the crinkling of the sheets the only audible sound in the room. My eyes flit to Sebastian’s sleeping figure yet again. The sunlight pouring into our bedroom, filtered by the curtains, painted Sebastian in a golden hue. His hair seemed more brown than usual while his skin shone. His eyes moved beneath his eyelids while his lips upturned into a smile like he was in a beautiful dream.

“You’re staring again honey,” his voice sounded but his eyes were still closed.

“Is that why you were smiling like a lovesick idiot? Because you knew I was staring?” I asked as I leaned in closer to plant butterfly kisses along the column of his neck.

“Mhmm, yeah,” he whispered as he turned to face me.

We stared into each other’s eyes for a beat. I could see the blues and the greens swirl to render emotions. And now, his eyes seemed to mirror the sky; the bluest of blues.

“Breakfast?” he asked as his warm hand cupped my cheek and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear with so much delicacy, it would make angels weep.

“Yeah,” I said as I leaned forward to kiss his nose. He scrunched his face in a retort which made me snort. I knew for sure that nose kisses were his favourite.

“Eggs and bacon?” he asks as he lifts himself off the bed.

“Mhmm,” I hum, distracted by the sight of his bare legs. The muscles shifted and stretched as he picked up his discarded sweatpants off the floor and slid them up to his legs. I had decided that my favourite part of lazy days was that he seemed to forego underwear.

“Honey baby, you need to get up before I throw you over my fucking shoulder,” he growled at my laziness and the fact that I refused to leave the bed.

“But it’s so warm here!” I whined as I rolled around in the sheets some more.

“Come on, brat,” he says as he crawls over to my side and throws me over his shoulder.

I squeal at his actions but lay relatively still as he carries me down the stairs and into the kitchen. He sets me down on an island stool and immediately gets to work, making breakfast.

I watch his back as he shuffles around the kitchen, making eggs and bacon, our favourite. “Why do you keep staring at me?” he suddenly asks. I freeze briefly before going back to casually flipping the paper.

“You’re pretty,” I say as he sets the coffee down in front of me. “And you make me breakfast. Do I really need another reason?”

“This is definitely something else. I can tell,” he says shoving his face in front of the newspaper across the island.

I sigh and close the paper and toss it to the end of the counter while my fingers begin to twitch. I try to look anywhere but him, but his frame fills my vision completely.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks, his concerned gaze flitting between my eyes and my fidgeting hands.

“I… There were these comments and-”

“I’ve told you not to read those baby”

“I know, I couldn’t help myself, I guess,” I say, trailing off. He stares at me intently while I stand up and go around him to plate our breakfast.

I feel his arms around my waist before his scent surrounds my senses. I start to feel dizzy with all the love I have for him.

“Baby, I love you. People are always gonna talk but the fact that I love you will never change. Okay?” he asks as he spins me around to face him while his fingers rub circles on my bare waist.

“Okay. I’m sorry,” I say, embarrassed that I let this get to me.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. People are mean. You can’t really do anything but ignore them.” He says, carrying our plates to the table where he pulls me onto his lap. He buries his face in my neck and takes a deep breath.

“Are you sniffing me?” I ask, turning around to face him with an exasperated look on my face.

“Shut up!” he whines, trying to hide his blush by burying his face even further in my neck.

“Seb, stop! That tickles!” I squeal and pull him away with a tug on his hair.

“Ugh fine. Let’s just eat breakfast so I can get you back to bed and a repeat of last night,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at the end.

I swat his arm away from where it had started to slide down my waist to my thigh.

“For that, you’d have to actually get through breakfast without doing anything.”

“No fair!”

“Life’s not fair, old man. Eat your bacon.”

“Oh, I will!”

“Seb!!”

@julyvegan @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mysweetlittledesire @bbl32 @noshame-bb @cece5 @white-wolf1940 @marvelfansworld @jassiejj2118 @sohosteve @sia2raw @honeymarvel @hart-failure @Clints-worldavengers

If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian imagine #sebastian stan #seb stan

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

MariJon Week

Day5: Social Media/Life Swap

It's gone midnight but it's still day 5 somewhere in the world and I've 3% battery left!

This prompt was not playing ball to write but it's done! It's not proof read but it's finished finally!!

Masterlist

Day1 Day2 Day3 Day4 Day6 Day7

____________________________________

Who would have thought a hashtag would have resulted in this. A “small series” of videos. A quick succession of tweets and a “innocuous” request have ended up like this. Even more so that she didn’t really used twitter a whole lot.

Marinette smiled amusedly, her attention to watching the chaos unfold in front of her. If Ayla was upset, then it was her own fault in the first place.

Six months ago:

Miss Bustier’s class were used to Marinette ranting about Akuma designs and costumes. The class had taken to recording these outbursts as a result and posting edited versions on twitter. She had gained her own hashtag because of a particular caped akuma; #EdnaModeHasSpoken

Someone (Alix) had thought it would be amazing idea to ask for requests to have the Parisian Edna Mode “discuss” global villains. Alix and Kim printed off what pictures they could find on the net of them and primed Alya up to record and let Marinette roll.

And oh boy did she roll. She tore into the Riddler’s wrong shade green and purple mix. She praised Lex Luthor on suit colours until she ripped into him on the suit cut. With Prankster she bemoaned the lack of originality of it all, a hybrid attire of Ridder and Joker.

Over the course of a few months almost biweekly Alya posted a new update of “Edna’s” views on the world of villain fashion. The harshest critique came when villains chose poor fashion rather than the poor Akuma victims who were forced by Hawkmoth.

Three months ago:

A new type of request came in to Alya's account. Specifically from @Zombieboy requesting that Edna review Gotham Vigilante's as she had done a tremendous reviews on Gotham's Rogues.

Seeing the pictures Alya had found, Marinette let a high pitch shrill before starting to pace.

"What the… how the… underwear on top of tights?! Where's the Kevlar?! The protection!!!

Traffic light children!!! With not trousers!!!

Is that a tampon on his head?! A swim hat?!

Why skin tight?! They dont have magic! Have they lost their marbles???"

Marinette drew in a deep breathe before releasing

"Capes!!! Are they trying to kill themselves. It's hero 101 no capes?! What are they thinking. They're from Earth … they are from Earth right? Superman obviously copied Batman's fashion sense and he's an alien. The poor man is blind but coping Batman's fashion. It's hideous!!

The only semi decent is tampon head as at least he looks like he has some armour protection. And no Cape. The leather jacket is tolerable but he needs a different cut!"

Marinette's pacing inreased with her disgust and somehow had picked up her sewing scissors and started to wave them around as she got more and more wound up.

"Capes and underwear!! Are they serious about saving the world dressed like that. It's an eye sore. Capes!!

What is with Gotham fashion?!?"

"Em… can you put the the scissors down please?!"

Alya ended up having to stop filming to help Alix try wrestle the scissors from Marinettes grasp.

#EdnaModeHasSpoken #BatmanLostHisMarbles #BatmanVsSupermanFashionCrimes #UnderWearAsOuterwearNoThankYou #CapesNoCapes #EdnaNeedsToPutTheScissorsDown

One month ago:

Some how unintentionally Marinette had managed to get into the middle a Twitter battle between Metropolis and Gotham. @TrueHeir had decided that Gotham had obviously superior fashion crimes than Metropolis stating that being the worst at fashion was a skill that Metropolis didn't have as they had to copy Gotham. Which had caused a backlash led by @BoyOfSteel stating that Metropolis moved away from wearing pants and having a leather jacketed hero first.

The battle online got quite heated until @TrueHeir demanded that the mysterious Edna wade in and settle the debate.

The issue suddenly became that Edna never really had her whole face shown @SassyFox managed to film it in such a way that it was hidden. Edna didn't seem to have Twitter. The way to solve it was to track down @SassyFox.

One week ago:

Jon and Damian via covertly using the Bat Computer managed to track @SassyFox down to Paris. They located a small(ish) area that based on the videos and pictures regularly taken. The pair looked at each other and knew that's where they were heading. They wanted, no NEEDED to Edna to settle this arguement of there's.

Checking that no one was about the pair zeta'd to Paris. They were men on a mission. A mission to resolve this fashion disaster crisis. Was Batman and Gotham or Superman and Metropolis the worst dressed.

They'd spent the day camped out in a local park. But no sign of anyone remotely like @SassyFox. To replenish supplies the pair decided to try out some local cuisine.

Jon insisted on this bakery. All the reviews rated it as one of the best in Paris and he had to try it. Walking in he met with the heavenly delight smells of pastries. He could feel his mouth drooling with the onslaught of sights and smells. He dragged Damian in to look at all the treats hidden behind the glass. Jon was drawn out of his pastry driven haze by a sweet voice asking if he wanted anything. Looking up to the source of the fairy like voice was a cute face. Blue eyes shimmer with amusement and blush coloured gloss graced lips twitch towards a suppressed smile.

"Everything!" Jon responded without thinking. Causing an eyebrow to raise on the girl's face.

"Tt! What Kent means is what would you recommend? Savour and Sweet."

Smiling a broad grin the girl launched into describing the pastries and treats and suggesting recommendations. She packed their goodies up and sent them on there way.

One day ago:

"Morning Jon, Damian, the usual?"

"Please, Marinette. Could you also pack another box on those macaroons you had yesterday as well?"

"Sure things. I take it they were a success?"

Jon nodded in agreement.

Jon and Damian after their first visit and repeatedly ended up at the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and Patisserie over the course of the week. Jon was hooked on the sweets and maybe a little (a lot according to Damian) taken by Marinette, the girl at the counter.

"The macaroons were above average."

"That's Dames speak for excellent" Jon cheerful supplied. "Hey Marinette are you on twitter?"

Jon picked up some cursing under her breath something about Alya and she was going to *kill* her before she plastered a fake smile on her face.

"I'm not. My friend uses it all the time though."

"Oh, so you've heard about the Parisian Edna Mode?" Jon cocked his head to the side. Marinette's heartbeat had picked up. Through gritted teeth so responded,

"Yup. I've heard about *Edna* my friends are slightly obsessed with it all. They *adore*her reactions."

She smile loosed at the American pair as the morning rush started to pick up.

"Sorry guys, I best finish your order off and help Maman deal with the queue building."

She effectively concluded the conversation in a polite and effective manner before waving them off with the supplies for the day.

"She knows more than she is letting on."

"Mentioning Edna made her heart beat quicker Dames. Do you think she knows her?"

"It is a high potential. Today we should stay near the bakery as formour hunting grounds."

Now:

Damian and Jon were at the park near the bakery. It appeared Marinette was off today so was missing from the bakery so Jon was "sulking".

By pure chance or coincidence, potentially luck, though the pair saw her enter the park with a group of friends and set up a picnic for them all. One was setting up music to play while others seemed to be playing an elaborate (childish) game of tag. Marinette her self looked gorgeous in a pale pink sundress. She outshone everyone she was with. When Marinette saw them she gave them a wave causing a blush to cross his cheeks.

They were content observing from a distance until Jon grabbed Damian's arm.

"It's her!!!"

Even from the distance, Marinette was mimicking Edna's wound up animated gestures of frustration. Jon could hear the growl and heat in her voice. It was a perfect match. Damian watched while quickly researching Marinette and who the girl filming was. It was all lining up. The final evidence was when a pink hair girl threw herself on Marinette crying out "Em!!" in a similar fashion to the scissor incident. Em wasn't a name but M short for Marinette.

Damian finally had found his mark and was determined to end this war with him being correct. This time it was him dragging Jon towards the girl.

"You're Edna!! You didn't tell us yesterday when we asked about it!"

"Yeah, my gurls Edna what about it. Who are you?" Alya quickly jumped in.

Marinette flapped at Damian, flustered by his bluntness.

"TrueHeir and BoyOfSteel. Edna needs to make a decision on which city has the worst fashion. Gotham or Metropolis. Once that's done this arguement can be settled and we can move on."

"What?!?! Damian??? Jon??? You've come all the way to Paris to resolve that??. What the…" Marinette looked confused at the pair. It seemed extreme to go to so much effort to find her just to settle this.

"You've stalked my gurl!!! You freak!! That's crazy. You're crazy!! All because of an arguement you two got into!!"

"Alya… you may have started it with posting all this?"

Marinette tried to defuse the situation which didn't really work.

"So who is worst?!" Demanded Damian.

"I… errr…." Marinette looked between the two boys. Which ever city she chose wouldn't be the end of this so she needed to think quickly. But she was panicking now….

"Star City!" She cried out.

The boys stopped and looked at her.

"What?!?! No! That's not what we asked. Why? You had to have chose Gotham." Damian was not impressed and about to launch in to integration mode when Alya cornered him and demanded that now he knew that he had to leave Marinette alone.

Jon just stared at Marinette. She had completely changed the rules and cleverly removed potentially tension that could of occured between him and Damian. The bragging right was taken away and handed elsewhere. With that thought Jon gentle grabbed Marinette's hand to get her whole attention. He softly kissed her cheek and smiled playfully at her.

"Sneaky move. Nicely played though Edna."

Marinette grinned up at him, knowing he got what she did before the pair turned around to watch the chaos of their best friends.

#maribat #maribat au #marijon #marijon week 2021 #jon x marinette #marinette x jon #ml x dc #dc x ml

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hyungieyoongi · 3 years

Text

Blue

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 830 ish (drabble)

Genre: Fluffy fluff (literally sickeningly sweet) + soulmate au at a coffee shop + you can’t see color until you meet your soulmate (I kept thinking about JK in that blue turtleneck he has, and I couldn’t help myself)

Sitting at a small table in a secluded corner of a coffee shop, you checked your watch for the third time. Your best friend was supposed to meet you here for coffee this afternoon, and you were really hoping that she’d hurry up – it was a beautiful spring day outside, and you wanted to take advantage of it and spend the day on a park bench, dreaming about what the sky would look like if you were sat beside your soulmate.

The quiet of the practically empty shop was interrupted, breaking you out of your reverie. You heard laughter coming from the front of the cafe, recognizing your friend’s voice as she responded to someone. Looking over, you saw your best friend approaching your table. You stood, about to hug her and say hello, but the person following behind her made your breath catch in your throat.

The first color you saw was blue. It wasn’t too light, wasn’t too dark. It was soft, but still vibrant, and looking at it made you feel comfortable. Warm, even. But that might have also been the flush of heat creeping up your cheeks as realization began to dawn on you.

Soulmate. I can see color because I found my soulmate.

Your eyes tracked up the blue knit of the turtleneck past the collar to take in more of him. You saw the pink tinge to his cheeks, a byproduct of his own flustered state at the sight of you. His dark hair was falling over his forehead, touching the tips of his ears adorned with silver hoops. His eyes, dark brown, were staring intently at you once they finally met his.

His pink lips parted into a bunny smile, nose scrunching in happiness. He quickly took three steps toward you, hesitated, then took one step back. The pink became deeper on his cheeks.

“This is my friend Jungkook from work. I thought you guys might get along,” your best friend said by way of introduction, her lips upturned in a grin. You hadn’t said anything; your voice seemed to have stopped working. “I think I’m just gonna grab a coffee and let you two chat.” You barely noticed your best friend slink away. You and Jungkook seemed to only have eyes for each other.

“I’m Jungkook,” he repeated quietly. “I think I’m your...soulmate,” his voice cracked on the last word as if he hadn’t said it out loud before. He hadn’t really, not like this. Not when it actually meant something. Meant everything.

“I like your turtleneck. Blue it...it looks really nice on you,” you said, rambling the first thought that came to mind. Jungkook looked at you expectantly. “Oh! Y/N. My name. Right, it’s Y/N.”

Slightly breathless, you tentatively moved forward to shorten the distance he had already started to close between you.

It was all Jungkook and blue in your mind and you couldn’t help yourself from holding out your hand and lightly grazing the long, oversized sleeve adorning his wrist. The material was thick, a little worn. You marveled at the color, it juxtaposing with the pale skin of his hands.

You suddenly snapped out of it, realizing how weird this must seem to him. You moved your fingers away, tucking them into a fist to place at your side, but your wrist was caught in a large hand, stopping its movement.

You looked up. Jungkook was staring at you with wide eyes, glimmering with an emotion you couldn’t name. You felt, in that moment, like you were his whole world. He gently moved his hold from your wrist to your hand, unfurling your fingers one by one. He connected your hands together, intertwining your fingers.

“You know, I always thought, when I can finally see color, I’d like to go look at the flowers. And the trees,” Jungkook said in a quiet voice. You squeezed his hand, urging him to continue. “Would you...do you want to go...to go look at the flowers with me?” Jungkook asked nervously.

“Yes, I’d like that. I’d like that very much,” you said, earning yourself another wide smile. You looked over at your best friend standing at the shop counter. She had silently watched the whole exchange take place with an amused grin.

“Don’t worry about me, we can grab coffee another time, Y/N!” your best friend said. You gave her a small wave, and she offered you a knowing look as you walked with Jungkook to the doors of the coffee shop.

“Are you ready?” Jungkook asked you, hand still tightly holding yours.

“Absolutely.”

You stepped out together, and gasped at the world around you, now filled with greens, blues, pinks...every color you could think of. Your eyes teared up at the beauty of it all, and you felt Jungkook’s eyes on you. You met his gaze, grinning at him in invitation.

He took off in a run with you in tow, laughing and spinning you around as you both experienced this new world of color for the first time, together.

#bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts drabble #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #jungkook soulmate au #jungkook fluff

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cloudy-minded-idiot · 3 years

Text

closing time - part 2

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader

warning: none that I can think of

word count: 2,700-ish

a/n: just wanted to thank everyone who took the time to comment, reblog or like the first part 💕 your support truly means a lot to me. everyone who has asked to be tagged or requested a second part has been @-ed below.

previous part

"Who are you talking to?”

The question came seemingly out of nowhere, making you jump so hard you almost dropped the phone in your hand.

“Jesus, woman!” you swore, putting your free hand over your rapidly beating heart, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Natasha was fresh out of the shower, her wet hair twisted in a towel. The redhead was wearing an oversized grey hoodie and some sweatpants that you had found somewhere deep inside your closet. She looked adorable, you had to admit, like a kid wearing their parent's clothes. The sight strangely made your stomach flip.

“Force of habit, I'm afraid,” she smiled apologetically, carefully sitting down on the couch. Her face was finally clean, no more mud, blood, or grime sticking to her features. Except for the blue-ish bruise on her left cheekbone, and a small cut near her eyebrow, her skin was unfairly flawless.

“So, are you gonna answer my question?”, she plopped her feet up on your coffee table, shaking you out of your thoughts. With a shrug, you pocketed your phone, hoping she hadn’t noticed your staring.

“Just work. Called in sick until Tuesday. After all, I can’t let you roam around my apartment unsupervised. For one, you’re injured, for another, you’re still a stranger.”

On your way to the couch, you picked up the first aid kit from your kitchen counter.

“A stranger?” she repeated with mock hurt, putting a hand over her heart, “ You wound me. After everything we’ve been through, I really thought we were getting closer.”

Shaking your heart amusedly, you sat down next to her. Balancing the first aid kit on your thigh, you pulled on a pair of rubber gloves with a snap. You could feel her gaze on you, watching your every move. Nervously, you cleared your throat, a little uncomfortable with her attention.

“Let’s have a look,” you nod to her and she complied with your unspoken request, pulling the hoodie up just enough for you to access her injury. Gingerly, you removed the bandage, dumping it into the trash can and inspecting the stitched wound, quietly humming in concentration as you did.

“I think you strained it a bit with your morning escapades today but I don’t think you pulled any of the stitches,” you concluded after a moment. Your voice sounded more sure than you actually felt about your assessment, considering all your expertise came from the internet. But, apparently, your word was good enough for your patient.

“See, I told you. You worried for nothing,” she slapped your shoulder jestingly and you rolled your eyes, taking out a new bandage to re-wrap the wound.

“I wouldn’t say for nothing. After all, you have been stabbed and only received medical attention from an amateur,” you pointed out, giving her a chastising look when she tried to dismiss your troubles with a languid hand motion.

“I think you should be concerned by the fact that I seem to be more worried about your health than you are," you continued, undeterred, "How's the pain, by the way?”

She shrugged nonchalantly, waving away your concerns, “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I'll be fine”, Natasha insisted with emphasis, “Besides, I don’t like taking painkillers. Dulls the senses.”

If you weren’t as tired as you were, you might have argued a little more. Instead, all you did was sigh and give a curt nod to signal your understanding. You didn’t really get her at all. If she was just going to hang around your apartment for the next couple of days, then who cares if her senses are dulled? It wasn't like anyone knew she would be here.

You finished wrapping her wound, leaning back to observe it from afar. You were admittedly getting better at bandaging. So that was a plus point.

“Alright, that’s it,” you nodded pleased, starting to clean up. Natasha inspected your work as well, pulling her hoodie back down once she was satisfied.

“You’re surprisingly good. Have you ever done this before?”

Chuckling, you shook your head, closing the little dark green box on your lap.

“You mean have I ever stitched someone together before and let them take refuge in my home? No. Can’t say I have.”

She smiled at your sarcastic tone, rolling her eyes playfully, before smirking mischievously.

“Ah, I'm your first. I'm honoured.”

You flushed at the implication of her statement, trying to hide your embarrassment by fiddling with the first aid kit. Don’t overthink it. You do not want these kinds of thoughts right now. Not about her. Sure, she is beautiful and it is kind of fun to banter with her and she has probably the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen and her lips…

“So, what’s your verdict doc?” she nudged you back to reality, amusement in her voice. You cleared your throat, shaking your head to clear your previous thoughts away.

“You need rest. Lots of it. No putting unnecessary strain on your injury,” you explained distractedly, pulling the gloves from your hands and letting them drop into the trash can, “So, I forbid you from leaving the couch for anything other than using the bathroom. Like I said before, if you need something, ask me.”

“You forbid me? My, my, how bossy of you. Then again, your home, your rules.”

“I just don’t want you to make anything worse,” you replied earnestly, ignoring her teasing tone.

Natasha grinned, eyes sparkling, leaning dangerously close to you.

“It's cute how concerned you are,” she almost whispered, her breath ghosting over your face. You felt your heart speed up.

“Don’t tell me you care about this lil old stranger here.”

Needing to remove yourself from this situation, you practically jumped off the couch, trying to play your reaction off with an annoyed eye-roll and a huff.

“Don’t be so full of yourself. I just don’t want you to start bleeding again. Might end up ruining my carpet,” you explained, the words leaving your mouth so quickly, it was a wonder you didn’t stumble over them. You resolved to change the topic entirely.

“Want anything to eat? Drink?”

Without sparing a second, you walked over to the kitchen, idly opening the fridge and looking through it just to keep your mind busy and eyes away from her. The frigid air definitely helped cool down your heated face as well. So that was a nice side effect.

“Vodka on the rocks would be nice,” she quipped. You shook your head, well-aware that she couldn’t see you, hidden away behind the fridge door. Apparently, your silence was answer enough though, because only a few seconds later, she let out a concessive sigh.

“Fine. Water will do.”

Preparing her a glass, you carried it over to the living room area, nudging her foot with your leg to get her to take them off your coffee table. She complied begrudgingly, accepting the glass and draining most of it in one gulp. It was only when you noticed a single droplet running down her chin that you realized you were staring. Again. Very obviously. Immediately you averted your gaze, opting to eyeball the wall in the far distance.

“So, what are you gonna do today? Anything planned?”

What a terrible question.

“Not really,” you saw her shrug out of the corner of your eye, “But I do need to use your radio again. Would you mind grabbing it for me?”

“Uh, sure.”

You spotted the device on the tv cabinet. Handing it over, you made certain that it was plugged in for her, watching the red digits on the small display light up. For a moment you remained in place, observing her as she fumble with it, her forehead creased in concentration. Feeling awkward just standing around, you approached, anxiously rubbing at the back of your neck in search for something to say.

“Can I ask, what exactly is it that you do with it?”

She seemed to mull your question over, before patting the couch cushion next to her.

“Sit. I’ll show you.”

You do, making sure to keep a decent amount of distance between you while still being able to see what she was doing. Natasha showed you how to switch to a shortwave radio station and how to input messages to be transmitted. The static sound filled your apartment again, changing to a couple of high-pitched sounds once in a while when she enters a new code. It was fascinating, something that seemed entirely taken out of an old spy movie.

“So, you’re sending encoded messages to someone?” you summarised her explanation, intrigued, “Do you use morse code for the encryption?”

“Morse code. That’s cute,” Natasha let out a short laugh, shaking her head in amusement. The towel her hair was wrapped somehow stayed in place. She looked up at you with a cocky smile, her eyes meeting yours and taking your breath away for a moment.

“If I wanted all the other agencies in the world to know my location, then yes, I'd use morse code. No, this is my very own code. Only a handful of people know it.”

“Impressive. So this means you’re a spy, right?”, you asked as she continued working on her transmission, “Because this is textbook spy behaviour.”

Natasha didn’t reply. Not that you had expected her to. Yep, definitely a spy. That would also explain her injury and need to lay low for a few days.

“So, do all secret spies have their own encryption codes, or are you just special?”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that I’m very special,” she quipped seriously, not looking up from her task, “Once I'm recovered, I’ll gladly show you my special set of skills up close.”

You blinked, perplexed, cocking your head to the side.

“I’m not sure whether you’re trying to threaten or flirt with me,” you remarked, a frown settling on your face. The redhead turned the radio off, putting it down next to her and looking up at you with a big grin.

“And isn’t that just part of the fun?”

--------

Natasha, it turned out, had quite the talent for coming up with pick-up lines that could double as thinly veiled threats. You did your best not to show how flustered she made you, either changing the subject, feigning ignorance, or trying to come across as exasperated or annoyed instead. To be honest, you did rather enjoy her flirtatious remarks. After all, it wasn’t every day that such a beautiful and quick-witted woman hit on you, even if it was just in jest. She also had something rather mysterious about her that intrigued you. It was probably a spy thing.

She, in turn, seemed to grow more comfortable around you as time passed. Daring to express her emotions more openly without always relying on sarcasm or flirtation. The memory of making her laugh out loud for the first time - a real laugh that had her throwing her head back and crinkling her eyes - was practically ingrained into your mind. Even now, just thinking about it, brought a fond smile to your face and made your heart flutter.

You weren’t stupid. At least you liked to think you weren’t. No, you were fully aware of the fact that you were developing feelings for the secretive redhead. And you knew that it was a terrible idea, that you should fight it. After all, she would be leaving soon and you weren't likely to see her again. But resisting her charms was a lot harder than you had anticipated. Especially, when you had to share your small apartment.

So, instead, you decided to treasure whatever short time you did have with her. You cooked her your favourite dish, blushing when she complimented your skills in the kitchen. The two of you watched several movies huddled together on your couch. You had seen them all before but enjoyed watching her point out all the unrealistic plot points and inconsistencies, only to end up grinning like an idiot at the cheesy happy ending. You also came up with several bad and dorky jokes just to hear her laugh out loud again. It felt nice. Almost domestic and natural.

But in the end, Tuesday came sooner than you had hoped. All night long, you had laid tossing and turning in your bed, dreading what would happen.

The sun was not yet out when you heard the now-familiar sound of radio static coming from your living room. Suddenly very awake, you practically shot out of your bed and hurried out the door.

Natasha was already dressed to leave, hair pulled back into a braid. A few locks had escaped and framed her lovely face. She looked up when she heard you enter, putting the radio aside.

“Morning,” she greeted with a small smile, “You’re up uncharacteristically early. Did I wake you up?"

“It’s fine. Didn't sleep well anyways,” you assured her, brushing a hand through your hair. A moment of silence.

“So. It’s Tuesday, huh?”

“Observant as always. My colleague will be picking me up shortly if that is what you’re asking.”

Dread filled you. While you knew this moment was coming, you suddenly found yourself wholly unprepared for it.

“Then the air is clear again, right? Successfully laid low?”, you asked, fumbling with your hands as you rambled on, “That’s good. Great.”

The redhead quirked an eyebrow at you, shouldering a small duffel bag as she approached you.

“It is indeed great. Means I won’t be targeted the moment I step outside your door,” she commented casually. As if possibly being assassinated wasn’t a big deal.

“Right. Good,” you nodded in agreement, unsure what else to say to that. She stopped directly in front of you, regarding you curiously. Your pulse spiked.

“Need me to check out your wound again? One final examination before you’re dismissed from the hospital?” you offered. Natasha shook her head.

“I’m fine. You did a great job, doc,” she flashed you a big smile, “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me these past few days.”

Face growing warm, you make a throw-away motion with your arm.

“No need to thank me. I really enjoyed spending time with you,” you tell her genuinely, meeting her green gaze. Her expression softened. she took another step closer. Your breath hitched at her close proximity.

“Me, too. But I’d still like to express my deep gratitude."

Something mischievous flashed in her eyes. Before you could ask her what she meant, she had already cupped your face and pulled your face to hers.

The moment your lips met, every other thought you had vanished from your mind. Electricity shot through your veins, your skin tingled where she touched you. After a moment you caught yourself and returned the kiss, pressing back against her, your hands carefully settling on her waist.

For a while, nothing else seemed to matter. Breathing, thinking, everything appeared rather trivial in comparison to this feeling of her lips on yours. It wasn't until a loud knock sounded on the door, that you broke apart. You were both breathing hard. Your eyes met and the smile she gave you had to be the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

“My colleague’s here", she whispered, somehow breaking through the fog in your mind. Right. She was about to leave. You swallow against the lump that formed in your throat. Still unable to find words, you just nod, taking a small step back. You tried to keep the sadness off your face and most likely failed miserably.

To your surprise, she laughed, shaking her head.

“Don’t look so glum. This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“It doesn’t?” you asked hopefully. Natasha gave you a look full of adoration, pulling a small slip of paper from her pocket.

“I'll probably be busy for a few days, but I have nothing planned next week,” she pressed the paper into your palm. Unfolding it, you saw a phone number scribbled on it in blue ink. A big grin overtook your face as she continued.

“I'm sure we can work something out. I'd love to take you out.”

You meet her eyes, butterflies going wild in your stomach.

“Take me out as in on a date, or…?” you asked jokingly.

Wordlessly, she pressed a small kiss to your cheek.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

___________________________________________

taglist: @blackxwidowsxwife @fishlikestuff @madamevirgo @chickenhavewisdom

#natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fanfiction #black widow x reader

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0littlestwolf0 · 3 years

Text

Poisoned Appletini

Yandere! Eddie Longo

Ship: Yan!Eddie Longo x Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, adultered drink, stalking, yandere-ish behavior

Requested by: @tomriddlessecretvampiredemigod

Don’t be out alone at night.

Be vigilant at all times.

And never accept any free drink that wasn’t sealed.

Those were three rules (out of many) to survive life as a woman. Three rules your parents, authorities, and society in general had told you over and over again until it was engraved in your brain.

And yet you forgot to put the words into action.

To be fair, you had had a very stressful couple of weeks beforehand, having to wake up extra early every morning to get ready for an awful day surrounded by people you didn’t like telling you how to do your job.

So, in the midst of all that havoc you found a little routine that made life just a tiny bit more bearable.

Every Monday and every Friday at precisely 9:00pm you’d stop by that club everyone you knew kept talking about, you’d order an Old Fashioned and look closely as it was being made while talking about nothing with that cute bartender whose shift you apparently always seemed to catch.

Those talks usually consisted on nothing of real importance, making fun of people who seemed to be way too drunk, creating interesting stories about strangers the other picked, and what you had considered harmless flirting.

It was anything but harmless.

This Friday had been way too chaotic to put much mind on anything else, you had gone with your usual routine until it seemingly out of nowhere became too much. You couldn’t even glance at your coworkers without feeling the urge to yell at every single one of them.

Your boss was no exception, and when that jerk started yelling at you instead for arriving a minute late after lunch you just couldn’t take it anymore, wouldn’t take it anymore. Honestly, if you tried recalling that moment you’d most likely see something similar to an out of body experience.

The way you almost weren’t in control when your arm threw your water at your boss, and then how your lips moved almost out of your control telling him where he could stick his stupid minute. And then a silent ride to the club in which you were now drinking your usual.

Eddie listened to your every word as you recounted your day, his eyebrows going up and down as your story progressed, every time more and more engrossed in the sound of your voice, his whole body leaning ever so slightly in your direction from the other side of the counter.

As you finished he had drummed his fingers against the polished wood and smiled “You know what this means, right?” He had the widest smile.

His excitement made you laugh

“What?” You asked fully leaning in the counter

He turned around and kept moving around under your curious glance, blocking your view of whatever he was doing, dodging your every question with soft laughter and a couple “you just wait”

And then he placed a green drink in front of you.

It looked and smelt pretty good, you realized. It even had a slice of fruit decorating it, you rose a brow at him.

“It’s a special Appletini, on the house” he explained “A congratulations on starting your new life” he added with a strange smile, one you mistakenly thought nothing of as you began downing the liquid.

It almost tasted like apple, there was something else in there though, something that made everything bitter-y but since you’d never had one before you just figured that was how it was supposed to be.

A couple seconds later you began feeling dizzy, it must’ve been a strong drink, stronger than anything you were used to, you tried to look at Eddie and ask for water, but your head was just too heavy, and so was the rest of your body, it made you stumble out of the stool you had been sitting on.

“You okay?” His question only dimly registered in your brain, but you managed to shake your head regardless.

He wasted on time on getting to your side, his hands taking a hold of both your arms as he directed you outside “I’m taking you home” was all he’d say, and you tried to reply, you really did try to tell him that you’d never told him where you lived, he must’ve been confusing you with someone else.

You can’t remember much more afterwards, only waking up with a pounding head and Eddie offering you water. You tried to scream but your body was too weak to do anything but drink water and stay in bed for the next couple of days, he didn’t even bother tying you up knowing how it would take you a while to take full autonomy of your body.

The second you heard his car taking off you’d try to move some and some more, at first your body had been too heavy, then too weak or clumsy, but sooner than he had expected you were able to move, still putting on a facade of a slow healing in front of him.

And then, one night after he’d left you got up as fast as you could and bolted to the door, which of course was locked, then you looked at a couple of windows until you found one whose lock was so old and worn out even you in your weakened state could break.

You jumped before taking a good measured look outside and began trying to run, but he had been heading back, unfortunately for you he had forgotten his wallet, and he caught you exactly like a deer on the headlights.

Your legs were much too weak to run faster than him, and in no time he had you back in the house that looked even weaker than you.

He wasn’t yelling though, not even raising his voice, but he had you wrapped so tightly in his arms it was hurting you as you tried to squirm away. Something you had noticed about him is that he rarely got mad at you, not being able to talk the last couple of days he had gone on and on about the beautiful life the two of you would share.

Making comments about whether or not he wanted children and deciding it would be up to you, but you only wanted to yell at his face and maybe spit in his direction and then run the other way.

But now he was silent, he’d never been this silent before, he let you loose momentarily as he turned around to lock the door and you tried to hit him square in the chest, I say try because it ended up being more of a slap than anything, but it took his attention back to you regardless, his eyes clouded and his breath going in and out in puffs.

The sight made you shiver and your instincts forced you to run the other way, but he grabbed your arm and twisted it in a very painful angle behind you as he forced you to walk to the bedroom he had had you imprisoned in.

“You are not leaving me” he said only once, twisting it even further with every poisoned word.

You were crying out of an ungodly combination of fear and pain “You’re hurting me!” You cried

He spun you around and forced your back against the wall getting close inside your personal space “You hurt me first” he declared with his whole face going red “pulling out of nowhere that running away shit! What the hell were you thinking! Fuck!” Every word he said made him angrier “After everything I’ve done for you?”

“You kidnapped me!” He slapped you as soon as the words left your mouth, and then he forced you to face him with a steel grip on your chin.

“I saved you!” Was his only reply “And you are never leaving me”

#tell me a story #Eddie Longo x reader #paul wesley #paul wesley x reader #yandere paul wesley #yandere eddie longo

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violetnemerald · 3 years

Text

His Father and His Father’s Fiancé

If Raven couldn’t feel it on her own she would’ve been able to tell by the creasing between his brows. His anxiety was getting the best of him whether he wanted to admit it or not. Damian leaned against the back of the couch trying to look as calm and collected as possible, as if the only other person in the room could not already tell what state he was in. His gaze focused on the front door of their apartment. When Raven had entered the room just moments ago he didn’t flinch or make an effort to acknowledge her presence. Did he even notice her presence, she would not be surprised if he did not seeing as how preoccupied his mind was.

“I would’ve thought you’d be training right now.” Raven said, breaking the silence.

“I’ve done that five time today already. I have also done just about everything else I could think of.” He stated with moving, like a statue forced to stare at the door. Raven closed her eyes for a bit knowing the amount of pressure he was putting himself under. Having his father and Selena Kyle over was a big deal. It was the first time that Selena, Bruce’s fiancé, was meeting Raven and Damian did not want her to disapprove of his life, specifically Raven.

“So ultimately you settled on watching the door?” A joking tone to her words still didn't get him to budge, even just to glare at her. “So... why does this dinner mean so much to you?”

“The dinner itself has no meaning it’s just... Kyle. She’s been in and out of my father’s life many times, and each time it breaks him a little more. She’s also very judgmental and expresses her opinions on every topic. Plus she is a criminal.” He breathed out, finally releasing the air he had been holding in the whole time. Raven just stared at him. It was not unusual for him to only see the bad qualities in someone, especially when that someone had a chance of hurting someone he loved.

“Last time I checked so was your mother.” The corner of her lips turning upward into a slight smirk. Once again she tried to alleviate the tension in the air by using a joking tone. This time his stared broke. Her lips turning into even more of a smile at the sight of his emerald irises finding hers. In most cases if it was anyone else pointing out that fact about his mother he would’ve gotten angry but because it was Raven he let it slide and allowed his exterior expression to break. A small smirk played across his lips as he allowed her comment to dismantle his reasoning.

“Fair but even still, Kyle and I don’t exactly get along. And quite frankly I do not care what she thinks.”

“But you do care. Anyone could tell by your white-knuckle grip on the couch.” Green eyes flicked down to his hands realizing the fabric from the death grip he subconsciously held. She giggled at his rushed response to her comment. He is cute when he is being protective, Raven thought. Her laughter caused his gaze to look back towards her. The sight taking away some of the anxiety he felt.

“It’s okay that you do. You just want her to like you, and accept you, she is your father fiancé, so it’s understandable. She’s going to be a part of Bruce’s family, your family.” This comment earned an eye roll from Damian. Damian didn’t like thinking about her in that way. She, like many others that came before her, will have to prove herself before she can earn that title in Damian’s mind.

Raven took a few steps toward him, crossing the room to be beside him by the couch. She inched closer her arms wrapping around his waist as she pulled herself closer to his side. As she rested against his side, his arm snaked around her shoulders to pull her further into him. His face leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. Raven closes her eyes, sinking into the softness of his lips as they linger on her skin. The gentle kiss relieving some of his stress.

Damian’s soon turned back towards the door. His gaze no longer a stare down, like it previously had been, but now just a waiting stare. Knowing that she was not going to be able to move him from this spot until after Bruce and Selena had arrived, she rested her head against his shoulder. She didn’t have much to do anyways and waiting in his arms wasn’t a bad way to pass the time, or a bad way to ease her own anxiety.

Wrapped in each others embrace, the two waited watching the door, for what felt like hours, but was only thirty-ish minutes. As the knock sounded from the opposite side of the door, Damian tensed. Moving so she took up his entire line of sight Raven offered a smile, allowing him to once again be able to move and breathe, as the warmth from her smile overtook his senses.

_______________________________________________________

Sorry it is a bit rushed, but I did not want a damirae week to pass and I not have prepared anything. I can not guarantee I will write for any other days as I have finals, but I’m super excited to see and read everyone else’s work!! :)

#damirae week 2021 #damirae #damian #raven #Damian Wayne #raven roth #Damian al Ghul #Rachel Roth #damian x raven #demonbirds #bruce wayne #selena kyle #slight batcat #raven x robin #robin #robrae

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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The Servant and The Prince | One

I did it-- I wrote something. Was it what everyone wanted? Gods no. But it is something. So do enjoy my lovelies-- a break from my not so regularly scheduled content.

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC

Warnings: violence but very minor, emotional abuse, some strong-ish language

Tags: Angst but you can imply fluff

Word count: 3.8k

Master List

“Did you pack my dress!” A shrill voice assaults her eardrums as she scurries towards the door.

It comes from a tall, thin, young woman. Her face and fingers are boney, her blonde hair falling in perfect waves down her back. The faintest aroma of honeysuckles and violets wafts off her creamy skin. She is beautiful, her step sister Anna. At least in theory. The sneer on her cherry lips and the hatred in her cerulean eyes, unclouded and accusatory, can’t be hidden by any length of silky dress or ruby lipstick, though. She is ugly, even if just on the inside.

Y/n almost drops the bags in her hands- almost. She only flinches inwardly. She is used to the constant demands. Clean the house, cook the meal, wash my clothes. This and that and more. So much more. She’ll never flinch though. No matter what. That is a promise she made to herself too long ago.

“Yes milady. It is already in the carriage alongside the rest of your requested belongings. Is there anything else I can do for you before we leave?” Her own voice is gentle in comparison; a breeze trying to hold its own against a tornado.

Anna’s sneer deepens and she huffs, spinning on her heel, her dress spiraling around her in a show of pink tulle. She does not say anything as she storms away, most likely on her way to her mother’s ornate carriage. That’s another thing that is more beautiful on the inside than out. If only everyone else knew that Y/n’s step family is poorer than dirt. Estrid, Anna’s mother, hides it well under the last remains of her father’s hard earned money. Gold encrusted carriages and a large home and clothing dripping in jewels. He is gone though, Y/n’s father, and the money will soon be completely gone as well. If only people glanced a little further and saw her dress- not terribly tattered but hand sewn out of the plainest fabric- and the overwhelming lack of staff in the big home. The signs are all there, sitting in plain sight.

That is exactly the reason Y/n is loading the carriage- a last ditch attempt for her step mother and step sister to rise back to the wealth they once enjoyed. There is to be a ball. A royal ball. Apparently it is supposed to be much grander than the solstice festivals her small village holds. She always thought those were magnificent; the dancing and the feasts. She loved attending them before her father had died. He would take her and her mother every year and they would find their seats under the stars, eating and dancing to their heart’s desire. Her chest squeezes painfully; she misses them both dearly. Now that they are gone those few days of the year are her only escape- the nights where she can pretend she is anything but a lowly servant.

She blanches wondering how much grander the ball will be. Surely it will be more than turkey under the stars and the ribbon dances of her youth. It will be in the castle- in a ballroom bigger than her house and the neighbours combined. Bigger even. She has never been in a ballroom. Sometimes the village hall holds weddings but they are small and serve vegetable stew and play music composed of fiddles and flutes. All the things she is most familiar with. The castle will have things she does not understand. Clothes worth more than her life and the richest foods and music that is so intricate that she wonders if her ears will be able to withstand it. She has heard stories of how wonderful it is- and how magnificently out of her element she will be.

Y/n sighs, pulling her shoulders straight and hiking the bags further up her body. This is no time for dawdling- there is no time that can be wasted now. She drags herself and the bags out the door, sparing a quick glance over her shoulder at her family home. It used to be filled with warmth. The kind that comes with baking bread and knitting beside an open fire and laughter. Now the halls are bare. Almost all traces of her mother and father are gone. She wears them across her chest in her mothers old leather satchel. Along the side of the bag, little green Dahlias are sewn into the worn material. She brushes her finger over the side, taking a deep breath. Maybe the ball will be a new adventure- even if she is not to attend. She will still be visiting the capitol.

“By Odin, what are you doing? We have to go now or we will miss the opening festivities! Move you little wench!”

Estrid’s nasally voice sounds from behind Y/n seconds before a hand connects with her back, shoving her forward. The bags on her shoulders and arms add to the momentum from the push, the uneven weight more than enough to have her stumbling over her feet. She tries to catch her balance, rushing down the steps as though being led by the bags themselves, but it is useless. Her heel catches on the last step and she falls backwards, her back connecting with the cobblestones, her elbow piling into the stone step. White hot pain blossoms through her body, pooling like fire in her injuries. She swallows the scream in her throat. It tastes like iron on her tongue- like eating the burnt chips left in the pot after the meals are finished being served. It tastes familiar.

A red heel stomps next to her, crunching on the cobble stone the same way her spine had. It lands inches away from her hand, narrowly missing her pinky. Y/n looks up, her features as schooled as possible, greeting Estrid with a bow of her head. Even that small action causes pain to spike through her lower back and she has to hold her breath to keep from crying out. She does not look at her step mother for more than a few seconds- she knows better than to do any such thing- but it is enough time to catch the familiar sneer. It is the same one she has passed on to Anna but more hateful. Honed. Estrid has had years to perfect her evilness, even if she does not look a day over thirty. She too is beautiful in her own dark way.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Elstrid spits down at Y/n, already on her way to the carriage as she passes by the crumpled girl. “It is as though you are trying to ruin your sister’s chance for happiness. You can never just be grateful, can you? It must always be about you. How pathetic.”

Y/n could laugh. She can almost feel it there in the base of her throat, bubbling with the scream and cries which are also locked away. Neither are forgotten yet- they never are. They just build and build and build like the wind that blows through her village in the spring, gaining enough speed to wipe out entire fields of crop. Now there is laughter on top as well. The cruel kind that makes her insides twist and burn.

What a perfect way to describe how she feels; pathetic. She forces herself to her knees, followed quickly by her feet as she gathers the bags, mulling over the word. Pathetic. She hauls them onto her shoulders once again, trying her hardest to ignore the way her back and arm aches and the flood of fresh tears that rush to her eyes. She loads the bags into the back of the carriage, nodding at the driver. He looks at her with pity but remains silent as Estrid climbs into her plush seat. The word rings again, louder. Pathetic.

Y/n tugs the satchel across her body as she climbs onto the back of the carriage, folding her cloak over her lap. Yes, indeed she feels pathetic, cast to ride to the capitol backwards with her skin exposed to the elements and her hair doomed to be a windblown mess. Pathetic does not even begin to cover everything she feels in this moment. If her step family is poorer than dirt than she must be something even worse than dirt as well. She feels so at least.

Somehow, though, beneath it all, she also feels a touch hopeful. She is going to the capitol, after all. Her fingers scratch over the green Dahlias, thinking back to the night her mother had sewn them.

“Little dove did you know that you are like a Dahlia?” Her mother’s voice was sweet and soft- the kind of voice that made Y/n want to lean in until she could feel the words in her soul.

“What do you mean, mama?” She was not really asking to hear the answer, rather speaking in order to hear her mother keep speaking.

The glow from the fireplace warmed Y/n’s cheek as she leaned further. Her mother smelled of yeast and berries. She could still taste the jam on her lips, warm and sweet from desert. Strawberry pie was her mother’s specialty. The warmth combined with her full belly made her eyes close slightly, her body sagging against her mother’s legs.

“You are so strong my little dove. You are so soft and so elegant,” her mother’s hand smoothed over her cheek, her fingers as soft as silk. “But you are so powerful too, I can sense it. You are overflowing with it and kindness. So much kindness. How did I create such a magnificent little girl, hmm?”

Y/n giggles when her mother tickles under her chin lightly, pulling her hand away to continue on the pattern. Her stitches are meticulous and perfect- just like her mother. She watches as the vibrant green thread weaves below the fabric before reappearing. It happens over and over again, disappearing and reappearing like a little trick. She always loved tricks.

“Why are the flowers green, mama? I have never seen any green flowers in the meadow.”

It was true. There were pinks and blues and the most wonderful oranges. Never greens though. Only the stems were green.

“Oh my darling, you will one day. They do not grow here. They grow in the capitol by the hundreds, though. They surround the streets, growing high into the sky. They are beautiful, my little dove. Just like you are. You will see them one day, I promise you.”

Y/n blinks away the image of her mother, letting a few of the tears drop as she does so. Nobody can see her here so it is okay now. It is times like these, in the midst of the worst and best moments of her life, when she misses her mother the most. She would do anything for one more gentle hug. One more whiff of berries and rising bread. She shifts on the stiff seat, her spine jostling against the metal frame of the cart and flaring in pain. She lets out a tiny cry, hoping it is masked by the sound of the wheels bumping over the stoney pathway. Her throat aches, squeezing at the stream of tears threatening her system. It is in this moment that she feels something foreign- something that will inevitably and unknowingly change her life as she knows it. Something that she is sure is not her own.

She feels angry.

* * * * * * * * * *

Loki strolls over the castle grounds, his hands clasped behind his back and his shoulders straight. The sun is shining on his face, warm and soft. The air, like always, smells like pine trees and fragrant flowers. That is partly the cause of the woman next to him. She is beautiful, there is no doubt about it. From her golden hair, knotted in bands across the crown of her head, to her gown, a soft blue silk. It flows behind her as she walks, like a river carving from each step she takes. One of her dainty hands is curled around his arm. Usually he would mind the touching- contact with other people is not his thing. More so Thor’s, his untamed brother. With her, though, he swallows his pride every time. He would do most anything to keep his mother happy.

He peers down at Frigga, his face stoic in comparison to the bright smile she wears. She still looks as young as she had when he and Thor were mere boys. Her cheeks and nose are slender, her skin unblemished by age. The only difference is that now he stands taller than her, looking down at her blonde hair instead of up at it from under her arms. He has no doubt that his mother will remain beautiful for a long time- even when her age finally catches up with her.

“You are staring, dear.” Frigga’s voice teases and his neck snaps straight, his eyes flicking back to the gardens of green around him. “You only stare when you have something on your mind. I presume I do not have to inquire to know what it is. I will anyway, though, if that is what you would like?”

Her voice drips into a worried tone that only she can muster. It is sincere. It makes it harder for him to be angry at the small, beautiful woman.

“You will anyway and we both know it.” He muses, reaching a hand out to brush one of the green flowers.

The petals are impossibly soft. Dahlias. He remembers when his mother had them planted all those years ago. It was a week’s affair- the castle had smelt of earth and new flowers for days afterwards. He remembers playing in the mud with his brother. The laughter. It seems like a lifetime ago. That was when everything was simple; when he was not about to get married to a princess he would meet at a ball that he does not even wish to attend.

Frigga sighs, pulling her son to a gentle stop. He obliges with a sigh that matches her own. “It must be done. By decree your brother and you should have been married a year ago. The royal ball is the way it has been done for many millennia. I have tried to slow tradition- to give you two as much time as possible- but there are some who watch us closely. They wait-”

He turns away from her, a scowl on his lips. “I know mother. They want us to show weakness. I understand the premise, I promise you I am not an idiot. I suppose I just do not see how a wife would make me seem less weak.”

He is a god- a powerful one at that. It is hard to believe there are many people out there able who are able to strip him of that power. It makes no sense to get married because of an outdated tradition- especially not for some sort of ruse. He is strong enough on his own; he always has been. Quiet and capable and strong. Independently so. He has never been much for teams. Besides, he doubts there will be many women attending with the hopes of meeting him. Not when his brother will be standing right by his side. The god of thunder. There are many things Loki can do- most of which are quite impressive. Tricks of the mind and the ability to create fire at will and so on. One thing he cannot do, however, is spout lightning from his fingers. He cannot compete with that level of visible godliness and thus there is no reason to attend. He is not second best and will not treat himself as such.

Frigga catches his chin, pulling him to look at her crystal eyes- the same crystal eyes which she rolls at him. “She will balance you, dear. The point is not to make you appear less weak. You are not weak. It is to make you appear happy. A happy prince means a happy king. Happy means powerful, Loki. it is power.”

He tenses and her eyes soften. “I am happy, mother. I am happy on my own.”

She lets her hand fall to his arm, shaking her head. Her knotted hair bounces slightly. She is giggling again in the way that only mothers can- the kind of giggle that is all knowing. It makes his skin itch, his hands secured behind his back again. How is it that she always makes him feel seen even when he does not wish to be?

“Is there something you wish to say?” He grumbles to the woman, wishing he could hate the way she grins up at him with a twinkle in her eye. He cannot though, even if he tried.

“My dear,” she hums gently, squeezing his arm, “I think perhaps you will come to revoke your words. That is all.”

Oh she is truly infuriating. There she goes again, so freely sharing her mind even when he has made it clear time and time again that he has no wish for a wife. Not only because he does not want to marry a woman he has never met but for other reasons too. The tips of his fingers turn to ice against his palms at the thought. He does not have to look down to know they are the brilliant blue that he so loathes. There is much he wishes to remain a secret beyond the confines of his household. He would rather not be married to a woman who thinks him a monster for the rest of his life. He will pass.

He opens his mouth, ready to fire back at her annoying laughter, when suddenly he cannot speak. Not just that, though. He cannot breath, either, or stand for that matter. Soon the trickster god is on his knees, his hands digging painfully against the cobblestone path. His nails bite against the stones, his icy fingers now burning. It is nothing near the pain in his back though which flares as though he had just been kicked. Moments later his elbow erupts into pain as well, searing down the entire length of his arm. He grinds his teeth through the pain, his eyes screwed shut.

“Loki?” Frigga’s voice holds none of the teasing it had only moments ago, only pure worry as she kneels next to her son. “Dear what happened? What is wrong? Shall I call for someone?”

His eyes snap open at that, his head shaking frantically. “No, no. I am fine. Do not call anyone.”

Even as he says it he knows that it is not true. His whole body aches as he rolls onto his feet, rising shakily. His mother’s eyes watch him closely, the blue clouded with something he does not recognize. He straightens after a moment, forcing the pain out of his mind.

“Did you trip, dear?” Her voice this time is guarded, concealed with a falsely loose tone.

Loki narrows his eyes. “No, I do not think so. It felt like someone pushed me. Do you know something about that mother?”

The scowl on her face is genuine this time, her golden brows creasing. “I sure hope you are not insinuating that I pushed my own son, Loki.”

He sighs again, guilt flooding his aching body. “No, mother. I am sorry-”

The end of his sentence drops into the space between them, cut off by an overwhelming feeling of agony. Not the physical kind, though. Yes, his back is screaming in pain as he stands on those dreadful cobblestones but that is not why he stops speaking. It is the wave of self loathing that hits him out of nowhere. It is hot and angry and cold and desperate all at once.

It feels like when he was little and his brother had thrown him into the sea to teach him to swim. He had not been ready and he swallowed a mouthful of the salty water. It had been like cold lead in his lungs, weighing him to the bottom of the surf. He had been so scared, clawing towards the faint light of the surface with no luck. Everytime he got close the light seemed to shrink further back. Soon the icy lead had turned molten when he could no longer breathe, his chest constricting under the weight of the water. The fear had turned him into some sort of crazed animal until finally he had kicked his legs hard enough to break the surface and suck in a breath of air.

It is the exact same way he feels now; panicked- like he has no clue how to get to the air again. He claws at his chest, his eyes blown wide. The world around him begins to spin. He is breathing- he knows he is, he can feel his chest heaving up and down- but he cannot taste the pine on the air anymore. He can only taste iron and salt and hatred, brash against his lips. It turns his vision red, his muscles tensing as though preparing for a fight in which he cannot identify the threat. Like the waves that pushed him under, the enemy is everywhere and nowhere. The only thing that makes it subside is his mothers hand on his cheek, warm and soft through the panic eating away at his chest.

He meets her eyes, squeezing his hands into fists at his sides. He grinds his words through his clenched teeth. “I have no idea what is happening to me.”

The small blonde swallows, her throat bobbing slightly. Her face is not the picture of shock like Loki’s is. Of course she is slightly panicked, he can see it in the way her fingers tremble as she brushes them down his shoulder. Somehow he knows that it is not the same kind of panic he feels. His all-knowing mother is stalling. It only serves to heighten the drowning feeling.

“I think I know what it is, dear.” She tests, her hands folding against her chest, clasping to hide the tremors.

Frigga’s response does little to ease the panic- if anything it makes it worse. Usually his mother is the only thing that can calm him. If he had to close his eyes and picture the person in which he feels most comfortable around- it would be her. Today though, that is to change. She seems scared. He pushes himself through the pain, biting through the iron and salt on his tongue.

“What do you know, mother.” It is not a question- it is a demand.

She straightens as well, sucking in the air that he cannot seem to find for the life of him. It makes him jealous- angry.

“Well,” she flicks her eyes up to the sky, avoiding the next words out of her mouth. “I think you might have a soulmate, my dear.”

#Loki #Loki fic #loki x y/n #loki x reader #mcu #mcu fic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #the avengers #the avengers fic #the avengers imagine #prince of asgard

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

Note

Whump you say? Geralt gets Hanahaki

I’ve been waiting for you, Anon. I’ve been waiting for this prompt specifically and boy when I tell you I might have cried writing it...

2k ish (a little less) words long. Idk why y’all were worried, it’s me. It’s gonna have a happy ending.

tw: Hanahaki, blood mention, illness, angst with a happy ending, whump with a happy ending ---

It had started up just before they parted ways for the winter; Geralt had quietly coughed a handful of rose petals into the corner of his cloak and hidden them from sight as Jaskier gave him their yearly parting embrace. “See you in the spring, Geralt!”

“Hmm.”

You might not ever see me again, actually, the Witcher thought. He tried not to let anything show on his face; not his fear and certainly not his longing, but he ached to tell Jaskier that he loved him and that he’d miss the bard’s presence through the long and dreary cold of the winter months. Geralt also knew that if he told Jaskier the truth about his feelings that he may never set eyes on the bard again anyway, regardless of how the disease currently wracking his body developed over their time apart. He was sure that Vesemir could identify whatever the strange illness was; the old swordmaster might even have a cure ready to go in the old storeroom. If not, they could send for Triss.

“Safe travels.”

“And you as well,” Geralt nodded curtly. He mounted Roach with all his usual grace and ease, biting back another cough and tasting the sickly sweet floral note of rose rising up his throat to coat his tongue again.

---

“Fuck,” Vesemir sighed. “It’s Hanahaki disease, Geralt. It’s not going to be easy to cure now that the pass is full of snow.”

“What’s Hanahaki disease?”

“It’s-” the eldest Wolf Witcher scrubbed his hand over his bearded face and took a moment to compose himself. He’d seen it happen before. He’d seen human bodies buried in the ground with entire root systems crawling from their chest cavities. He’d watched young men and women alike cough entire violet or rose or daisy buds from their mouths while they shivered with fever and seemingly unending pain, but a Witcher? Vesemir hadn’t even thought it was possible for a Witcher to contract such a frivolously deadly illness. “I don’t know exactly how to explain this to you, Geralt.”

“I won’t go screaming into the hills, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” his middle-child joked, “I can’t run very far anymore without a coughing fit.”

“I can’t send for Triss or Yennefer, either. They won’t be able to do anything,” Vesemir spoke calmly and evenly. Geralt, propped against some pillows on adoptive-father-enforced bed rest raised an eyebrow. “It’s a disease that eats at you from the inside out. It latches on to, uhm, romantic feelings and grows with them until it overtakes its host completely. Or until the host, uh… confronts those feelings head on and admits them to the object of their affection.”

“So this is…” Geralt’s eyes were wide and terrified. The eldest Wolf had never seen the stoic boy look quite so scared before, and he’d seen him go through the Trials. “This is going to kill me, is what you’re saying.”

“Who are you in love with, you stubborn oaf!?” Lambert cried, marching into the room from where he’d been lurking in the hall. He startled the other two Wolves and Geralt coughed out another handful of petals. The blood that came with them was surprisingly new.

“What do you mean!?”

“He means,” Vesemir said, as slowly as possible (so that even the great Geralt of Rivia would understand his situation), “That until you tell this person how you feel, the flowers inside you will continue to grow and dig their roots in and, if you never tell them how you feel at all, you will eventually die.”

“Then I guess my fate is sealed,” Geralt smiled sadly, settling himself back against the pillows. “My time as a Witcher is up. Coughing up flowers isn’t the worst way to go, all things considered.”

Lambert growled angrily. “I’m not ready to lose my brother yet, Geralt, so just tell us who you’re pining after and we’ll go fetch her back!”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?!”

Geralt, growing increasingly more feverish and already exhausted from everything that had happened that afternoon, closed his eyes. “Because he deserves better than me, Lambert. He deserves so much more than I could ever give him and I’m not about to steal him away like a selfish ass and force my feelings onto him for my own sake. I’d rather die.”

“Self-sacrificing bastard,” the youngest of the Wolf Witchers snarled, storming from the room. “Ass! Cock! Fool!”

Vesemir could only nod his agreement and follow silently after.

---

Jaskier read the letter once.

Then he read it again.

After a third time through he was sure that he hadn’t misunderstood the contents.

Dear Jaskier (aka Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, Prof. of the Seven Liberal Arts at Oxenfurt),

I am Eskel, brother to Geralt of the Wolf Witcher School at Kaer Morhen. I write to you now to ask for your presence at the keep. Geralt has fallen gravely ill and will not likely make it through the season. He does not know that I have written to you, but as his best friend and companion on the Path, I thought it my duty to invite you to see him one last time before he’s gone for good. He’s loathe to admit it, but he misses you and fears for your safety come springtime.

Sincerely,

Eskel of the Wolf School

Somewhere beneath the bright embroidery of his doublet and the hand-woven muslin of his chemise, Jaskier’s flighty, deeply-loving heart shattered into a million pieces.

He grabbed his heaviest woolen cloak from its peg near the door and made for the stables at once.

---

“Geralt!”

The White Wolf opened his eyes a sliver to confirm that he wasn’t hallucinating again; ah yes. What a lovely last dream to have before I die. Standing in the middle of his bedroom at Kaer Morhen, covered with still-melting snow, was Jaskier. The bard’s blue eyes were brimming with tears and his bottom lip was wobbling violently as he gazed upon the Witcher’s withering form.

“Geralt, what’s wrong? Your father and brothers sort of explained it to me but I’m still not sure what’s happening. You’re dying?”

“Don’t worry, bard,” Geralt smiled. A loud, sudden cough wracked his body and he bent over double, spitting a blood-spattered but fully-bloomed rose out into his cupped palm. He laughed joylessly and tossed the bloom onto his bedside table. “I’ll be out of your hair, soon. Won’t this be a last ballad to write, a wolf dying as he’s eaten by flowers?”

“I don-”

“Hush,” Geralt rasped. Jaskier dropped his cloak to the ground uncaringly and rushed to his Witcher’s side. He sat on the edge of the mattress and took Geralt’s closest hand in his, grasping the appendage to his chest and sobbing into the sword-calloused skin like his tears might save his best friend’s life. “Don’t be sad, Jaskier.”

“I am sad, Geralt! I’m absolutely fucking terrified and heartbroken and crushed! Vesemir said you could heal this at any time but you just… you just won’t because you’re stubborn and an idiot and the sweetest goddamn man I’ve ever met in my life! How dare you tell me goodbye when you are perfectly capable of fixing this problem yourself! How could you promise to see me in the spring and then break your word by dying well before the grass turns green again?! You bastard!”

“You won’t miss me after another year passes,” Geralt reassured him, flexing the hand still held tight in Jaskier’s grip. “You won’t even remember me by the time the first daisies spring up.”

“How dare you,” the bard cried again. He pressed a nervous kiss to the tip of the Witcher’s pointer finger before letting go completely and dropping his head into his own hands. “How dare you say those things to me when you know full well that I love you with all my stupid, fragile mortal heart. You asshole.”

“Wh...what?”

“I love you, Geralt!” The Witcher stared up at his friend with nothing but confusion written across his handsome features. Jaskier reached out, wiping a smear of blood away from the corner of Geralt’s mouth as tenderly as any maiden in any of the bard’s favorite romance novels. “I love you and I’ll never forgive you for letting yourself die on me like this.”

Geralt blushed. He stammered. He coughed up two or three more bloody roses and Jaskier tossed them all into the fire with rage blazing in his cornflower irises.

“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything on this gods-forsaken Continent and now you’re going to take yourself away because you’re, what, scared of something? Is it Yennefer? If she’s refusing to help you then I’ll ride all the way to Vengerberg by daybreak and then I’ll break all her fucking fi-”

“I love you, too.”

“What?” Jaskier asked, stopped mid-rant and mid-thought by the Witcher’s sudden admission. “What did you just say to me, Geralt? If I didn’t misunderstand, you said you loved me too.”

“I did. I do! I have loved you for a rather long time, actually.”

“Well, I’m glad we’ve settled that,” Vesemir said from the doorway. He turned on his heel and disappeared. “See you both for breakfast tomorrow, I’m sure. Well... maybe breakfast is being a bit optimistic. I’ll see you for lunch.”

“What did he mean?” the bard asked. His eyes flitted between the empty doorway and Geralt’s guilty grimace. “What the fuck did Vesemir mean when he said he’d see us at lunch?! You’re still clearly dying and I-”

Geralt felt his fever receding and coughed experimentally. There were only a few brown, half-dried petals that fell from his lips. No blooms. He coughed again and nothing came out of his mouth at all. He grinned and laughed, tugging Jaskier up onto the bed and against his broad chest. “Vesemir was right!”

“What the fuck is going on?!” the bard begged. His hands twisted into the neckline of Geralt’s shirt, holding him still and steady. Blue bore into gold with such heated intensity that the Witcher thought he might pass out regardless of his recently healed disease, “What just happened!?”

“I- I told you I loved you and it cured the Hanahaki!”

“You had fucking Hanahaki and I was the cause of it? Oh Geralt, I’m so sorry! I should have noticed sooner! I should hav- Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I didn’t think you loved me back.”

“You didn- Geralt, have you been paying any sort of attention for the past seven or so years? I follow you everywhere, I bandage your wounds, I put food on your plate and a pillow under your head whenever we get the chance. I bathe you and mend your clothes when your fingers are too stiff from practicing your forms to do it yourself… you utter fool. You buffoon. You great, dumb, goofy, idioti-”

He was cut off by Geralt bringing their mouths together with such gentle but insistent pressure that all Jaskier could do was melt against him. His hands unwound from the shirt and stabilized against the Witcher’s pectorals instead. He sighed into Geralt’s mouth, swallowing down the happy sounds his dearest Witcher made in return. When they were finished pouring out their affections they sat, breathless, curled against the pillows of Geralt’s enormous bed.

A large pointer finger slipped beneath Jaskier’s chin and tilted his face up, locking their gazes, “This isn’t how I wanted you to meet my family or see Kaer Morhen for the first time, but I’m glad you came. I know the journey through the snow couldn’t have been easy, even though I’m sure there was some magical assistance.”

“For you, my love, I’d travel the pass barefoot.”

“You’d die of exposure.”

“Not if your life was on the line,” the bard murmured against those flower-chapped lips. “For you, Geralt, I could survive anything. Just as you must swear from this moment on to survive whatever you can to make it back to me.”

“Will you go back to the academy until spring?”

“I’m never leaving your side again, Geralt of Rivia. Come flora or fauna, you’re stuck with me for good.”

“Hmm. Good.”

“Just… Just don’t bring me flowers any time soon.”

356 notes · View notes

mooniefics · 3 years

Text

— insubordination

pairing : eren jaeger / fem reader

word count : 5.7k

tags : porn w plot, eventual smut, angst-ish

warnings : nfsw, non-con/extremely dub-con, impact play, descriptions of blood and injury, ooc eren being very mean

summary : you were nothing in his eyes, and he was nothing in yours. that's how it was meant to be, that's what commander hange had assumed when they assigned you such a simple role. but people are unpredictable, and sympathy for the wicked can make you do some pretty stupid things.

— originally posted 1 / 4 / 21 on ao3 —

this task was arguably your least favorite part of the day.

it was too quiet, eerily silent when you walked down the steps, and that one uneven brick always seemed to trip you up when you weren't looking out for it. balancing the dishes on the serving tray also wasn't the easiest, and it was all the more demeaning when he would be waiting for you by the bars, eyes as empty and uninterested as ever but still fixed on your every movement.

you were a soldier, not a waitress, and a part of you wondered why they didn't just make the marleyans do such a belittling task rather than force you to lower yourself down to such a level three times a day. but you knew it was because he'd be less hesitant to strangle the life out of any non-paradisian before he'd go after someone from the island, and you had enough self defense training to withstand any escape attempts he might make.

but eren jaeger seemed docile when he was in his cage, and that fact eased you just the slightest bit when you descended the stairs to his cell that day, toting a sandwich and a glass of water on the tray for him. you thankfully caught yourself before you tripped up on that uneven last step, breathing out a little sigh of relief about not having to deal with split food and broken dishes along with the humiliation of screwing up such an easy task. you didn't want to give him another reason to look down at you, another excuse to see you as even lesser than he already perceived you as.

he didn't seem to care much for a select few from his graduating class, and you seeing that you were trained with the 106th training corp, you hadn't had any sort of direct interactions with him until you were assigned to bring him his food for the day. at first, commander hange had insisted on doing it personally, but as the workload increased and the luxury of free time dwindled, the duty was passed onto you.

you had honestly been terrified when you first faced him, hoping that those bored yet sharp green eyes didn't catch the way your hand trembled when you fit the key into the lock, opening up the slot in the door that was just big enough to slide the tray and its contents across to him. he didn't say much, no hellos or thank yous exchanged, just a brief glance at your face and a muttered "you're new" as he took the tray to his bed and sat, silently eating his meal and sliding back the tray and empty dishes for you to take back up with you. and that was how it usually went, no fuss from either end, just a silence that was barely occupied by the scrapes of his utensils on the plate and the occasional clearing of his throat.

you expected another quiet interaction as you stepped across the old brick floor, keeping an impassive expression even after seeing that he was waiting for you at the bars, wearing nothing besides a pair of trousers that sat low on his hips. you ignored his uncharacteristically intent gaze, setting the tray down on the ground and fetching the ring of keys from your uniform, struggling to not let your eyes wander over him.

something felt different, an unusual feeling of trepidation that clung to you as you picked out the right key, unlocking the serving slot and slipping it back into your pocket. besides his evident lack of a shirt, there was nothing odd about today, nothing that should make you feel the agitation that was creeping up your spine. you swallowed down your nerves as you set the tray down like you always did, sliding it over onto his side of the bars. he always seemed much taller when he was up close like this, and even with his relaxed posture he still towered over you. his robust frame only served to make him more intimidating, muscles flexing beneath the pale skin littered with past scars. you didn't expect to feel the warmth of his fingers brushing over yours when he reached out to take the tray, suppressing the flinch that threatened to make you jump away from his contact, looking up to meet his steady gaze.

"thank you." he said, the slightest of smiles perking up at his lips at the sight of your surprised expression.

despite having the tray in his grasp, he didn't pull away from his place before you, drawing a few fingers down the side of your hand, not taking his eyes off of yours. you gave a gentle push of the tray, urging him to take it, not wanting to back down from what you assumed to be a test of your courage.

"hurry up and eat, jaeger. i don't have all day." you told him with much less authority than you would've hoped, but felt the smallest bit of pleasure from how he blinked at you, most likely not expecting you assertion.

"you know, you can call me eren."

that was the last thing he said before he let his gaze fall to the tray, warmth receding as he took his meal to his bed to eat. that was the most words you'd ever said to one another, arguably the most startling encounter you'd ever had as well. he seemed almost happy to see you, any show of emotion besides indifference was magnified by how rarely it appeared, but you reminded yourself that this was no reason to let your guard down. in fact, this was only more reason to keep a closer eye on him.

he could be planning something, you wouldn't put that kind of scheming past him, you'd heard the murmurs across your unit about how isolated his desires were from the greater good of humanity. he'd lashed out at his superiors as a cadet, he'd rebelled against the judgement of the former commander, fought the levi ackermann for selfish, narrow-minded reasons.

but, really, couldn't he escape whenever he wanted? freedom was just an injury away for him, he could shift into his titan form whenever he pleased and completely demolish the cell and everything above it, run off to see whatever corner of the world he wished to or murder whomever he had on his hit list. perhaps he was merely toying with you, the boredom of isolation driving him to tease the soldier who'd never once gotten the chance to see past the territory just outside the walls despite being a scout. you were surprised that he hadn't gone crazy from being locked up in a cell with just a bed, a sink, and a small barred window, not even a journal or a book for entertainment, although he was unhinged enough to have to be held here, so you assumed that it somehow balanced out in some odd way.

you told yourself to just take a deep breath as you stood by and waited for him to finish his meal, chalking up his behavior to him being an eccentric man with an endless amount of free time in his hands. he didn't speak any more when he passed back the tray and dishes, only offering another faint smile that didn't quite meet his eyes before returning to his bed, allowing you to latch the lock once more and make your quick exit up the stairs, thankfully out of his sight and not dropping anything when you tripped up on that uneven step.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"eat with me."

he didn't react to your incredulous look from behind the bars, steady stare staying trained on your face, fingers brushing just over your hand. it took you a moment to find your voice. "no."

"why not?" he replied easily, either entirely unaware of his aloofness or intentionally putting up the front of detached confusion.

"you're in there for a reason, eren." you said, giving a gentle push forward to the tray, "now eat."

it had been just over a week since your first conversation, he'd made no attempt to initiate another in the following days until just now. but he wasn't showing the hint of contentment he'd allowed to peek through on his features the last time, just the cool, uncaring demeanor that you'd become accustomed to as he delivered such a ridiculous request.

"i don't want to eat alone." he persisted, punctuating the sentence with his own nudge of the tray back to you, "what could i do? even if i tried to escape, the guards outside would catch me before i made it far." there were no guards outside, but you didn't tell him that. "you'll have wait on me to finish anyways."

you didn't reply back, not wanting to speak and risk him hearing your voice wobble, or let a nervous stutter slip. you found it strange how his displays of humanity were more startling than when he lacked them, the image of his more mechanical self that you'd grown used to, the one that you were alright with leaving in a cell alone for days, being shattered by the slight smiles, the naivety that came in him even thinking that you would comply with his desires.

"i could stand away from the door if it'd make you feel better, you don't even have to sit next to me. i just.." he turned away, lips turning down in an almost sheepish frown. "i just want to feel like someone is in the room with me."

you were almost afraid of this new emotion from him, having to force your brow to not knit into an expression of surprise and your mouth to not fall open at this incredibly unfamiliar territory. you felt that you were good at reading people, good enough to sniff out most false claims and facades that were put up by the people you were close with, but you weren't close with him, not in the least. all you knew of him was his name, his designation, his special abilities, and that he seemed to like soup the best, considering that he always finished the fastest on the days you brought it down for him. how convenient that you had a bowl for him today, alongside a small loaf of bread and the usual glass of water. but looking over his face, you couldn't help but feel your resolve crack just the slightest bit at the sight of him.

it made sense that he was getting lonely down here, the only people that were allowed to speak to him were you and the commander, and seeing that no one had gotten reamed for making an unauthorized visit, you were sure that the small group he was acquainted with weren't sneaking out to give him some company. and there seemed to be genuine emotion gleaming in his usually dull eyes, cheeks and ears flushed with a soft red that warmed his features, a kind of reaction that you found to be hard to fake. you didn't exactly lose sleep over his imprisonment, but you weren't a monster, you didn't discount the mental toll that this kind of solitude could have on a person.

"move away from the door."

the words slipped out of you before you had a chance to think about them anymore, slightly eased by the fact that he actually followed your order and stepped back as far as he could. you picked the ring of keys out of your pocket, finding the one that unlocked the door to his cell and slowly pressing it into the keyhole, letting out a small breath of alarm when you heard the inner mechanisms unlatch.

you couldn't help the way your eyes darted over to him, half expecting him to come running to shove past you and make a mad dash out of the barracks. but he stayed right where he was, not moving even as you pushed open the door and stepped in, trying not to turn your back to him for too long as you eased it shut and tucked the keys back into your pocket, taking his tray and setting it at the foot of his bed like he always did before returning to your place at the door, giving a small nod to let him know he could move.

he was relaxed as ever, nearly smiling to himself as he took a seat, as opposed to you, who's back was stiffened into the straightest your posture had been in weeks, clenched hands that were becoming clammy with sweat. you knew exactly why you were getting so worked up over being on the other side of the bars that had giving you that sense of security now only giving you the sense of being caged in with someone who was really more of a stranger to you than anything. but he seemed more than pleased to have you in his vicinity, and the look on his face eased the chill rattling up your back, threatening to make you look more like a cornered animal more than a stoic soldier.

he was halfway through his soup when he reached for the bread, raising it to his lips to take a bite before he stopped, glancing over to you with a sudden intrigue. you watched as he broke it in two, not minding the crumbs that fell down onto his shirt and lap, holding the larger looking piece out to you. "here. it wouldn't be fair if you just had stand there and watch me enjoy my meal."

if your eyes widened in surprise, he didn't react to it, only adding a slight wave to his outstretched offering. you forced your foot forward, nervous to approach him but wanting to accept what felt like a sort of peace offering, a wordless assurance that he meant well. for the first time, his mouth drew back into a smile, a full, genuine, almost charming smile when you took the bread, hoping he didn't catch the way your fingers trembled as you stood there, unsure of whether to focus on the warmth of his gesture or taking a bite like he seemed to be expectantly waiting for you to do.

you didn't realize how dry your mouth was until you bit off a small chunk, chewing much longer than you usually did before you swallowed it down, not tasting anything but feeling your heart skip at the sight of his happiness. you retreated to your place at the door, finishing off the bread, watching him quickly wrap up his own meal and get everything back in order on the tray. he didn't usually do that either.

you felt an uncomfortable squeeze in your chest when he stood, gathering the tray in his hands and walking up to you with slow steps. he made sure to keep a good distance away from you, probably not wanting to give you any reason to be anymore afraid that you already were. you took the tray when he held it out to you, and he stayed holding onto it with you just a moment longer than he needed to, gleaming eyes wandering over your face in that little bit of time before he released his grasp, stepping back to where he originally had when you first entered and mimicking your small nod to tell you it was alright to go.

you couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips, a shy, nervous little close-lipped smile that came with the blush darkening on your cheeks, nudging open the cell door with your foot and exiting without a problem. and as you fished the key ring out of your pocket and found the right one to slide into the keyhole, he took a seat at the foot of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, gazing up at you as you secured the lock back into place.

"thank you."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you found yourself going into his cell a lot more often than you probably should've.

the first couple days you stood at your place by the unlocked door, seeing how with each passing day you exchanged more and more words, the conversations becoming less stiff and hesitant. you only went in at lunch, since in the morning there were a lot more people milling about after breakfast, and in the evening the guards that stood outside by the stairs actually came to ensure he didn't get out during the night. the afternoon was the only time where everyone had already gone to their designated workstations, and besides the stray person or two that happened to pass by during that time, no one was around to catch your massive insubordination of orders.

you'd eventually began to sit at the foot of the bed, the tray putting a comfortable distance between the two of you as you chatted. he would offer you bites of his sandwich, or a piece of his bread like he did the first time you shared a meal, always giving you a little something despite your insistence that he kept it for himself, saying that "it would be unfair to starve his guest". speaking casually was surprisingly easy, passing stories of your training days and your initial struggles with omni-directional movement gear back and forth, letting him tell you about his time across the ocean and appreciating how intently he listened to you lamenting about the severe lack of exposure you had to the world outside the walls.

you couldn't admit it to anyone else, but you had begun to grow fond of him. the initial expression of cool apathy completely melted away when you were with him, the features of his face which you had initially found stern becoming somewhat handsome when he was giving those little smiles, a breath of a chuckle when you said something he found funny, or the focused expression he would take on when he nodded along to the stories from your childhood you had to offer. perhaps under different circumstances, you might've even wanted to see if things could go further than easy banter between two friends, biting your tongue when you thought about slipping in something about how he could be your guide when you could finally go out and see the world.

there was no way they would keep him in here forever, the effort to cover new ground and widen the army's frontiers was going swimmingly from the looks of it, so maybe there'd be a day in the future where you could walk about with him, away from the brick of his cell and without the bars separating you. that thought had been especially nice to think about as you sat on your calves across from him on the bed, your half of today's bread nearly gone as you listened to him talk about what he would get up to when he was a child, running around his hometown by himself and trying to sneak into taverns to catch a peek at the barmaidens.

"you know, there was this one particular girl that i remember being head over heels for," he mused, pausing to lick the bit of soup that had swiped across his lips from his last spoonful, "one time she came to my home for my father to check out her arm, said she'd gotten grabbed by one of the more unsavory characters that hung around those bars. i was so angry i almost went out looking for him myself."

you giggled a bit at the mental image, a wide-eyed little boy with the big dream of saving his childhood crush from the evil world. "isn't that sweet?" you quipped with a smile, quickly eating the last bite of bread in your hand and dusting off the crumbs onto the floor, "what'd she look like? she had to be beautiful to catch your eye." you tried not to let your disappointment in letting that slip show as you waited for his reply, mentally noting to have a bit more verbal control the next time.

"well, she actually kind of looked like you."

you felt your face pink at that, trying not to show your embarrassment as you cleared your throat. "r-really?" that was all you could manage, only feeling even more flustered by the slight grin he gave.

"really. you're obviously not identical, but there are a couple of things that remind me of her when i look at you." he shifted his position a bit, the space between you narrowing as he leaned over the tray to get a better look at your face. "your eyes look like hers, a different color, but the same shape. and you have the same freckle right here."

he pointed to the place on your face, finger inches away from you but still the closest you'd ever been to touching aside from the light brushes of your hands when you passed the tray to one another. "and now that i'm really looking, you both kind of have the same hair."

he was much closer than before, both of your knees at either end of the tray because of how it'd been pushed, realizing that you yourself had been unconsciously leaning forward. the warmth of his hand brushing across your cheek was a bit startling but definitely not unwelcome, thumb catching a stray lock of hair to tuck behind your ear.

"yeah.. you do." he murmured quietly, but you were more than close enough to hear it, able to pick out the brighter flecks in his brilliantly green irises, feeling his soft exhales fanning across your lips.

you couldn't believe you had let this happen, let yourself end up like this with the man you were supposed to just bring food to and guard from a distance, but at the same time you couldn't pull away, couldn't force yourself to part from the now low-lidded eyes gazing at you with such an unreadable depth, just barely obstructed by the hair that had slipped out of the messy style he had it drawn up in today, full lips parted and just a breath away from pressing onto your own. and so you let your eyes fall shut, feeling his hand slip further into your hair, fingers working deeper into it like they were meant to be there. but instead of a kiss, you felt his grasp in your hair suddenly tighten, barely able to let out a small gasp of pain before he drew your head to the side and smashed it into the brick wall next to you.

pain exploded across your skull, white spots blotting out your vision when your eyes flew open, unable to hold yourself up when he threw you down on the bed, already feeling the warmth of blood seeping out of the broken skin. you could faintly hear the clatter of metal and the smash of porcelain on the floor when he kicked the tray to the ground through the ringing in your ears. your first attempt to speak came out as almost a wheeze, mouth numb with shock as you tried to force your leadened limbs to move, writhing uselessly as he began to wrestle off the belt of your jacket, flipping you onto your stomach as soon as it came undone and ripping the jacket off of you with one strong pull to the collar.

"hel—help !" you wailed almost incoherently into the empty hall, knowing for a fact that no one was there but hoping there was somebody, anybody that could possibly be wandering past the building outside would come to save you.

all your combat experience meant nothing now that he had you sprawled out under him, straddling you as he tied your hands behind your back with your own belt, laughing coldly at every half-hearted squirm and small sob that left you. the wound on your head sent an unbearable ache through your entire body, beginning at your temple and searing through every nerve, each rough jostle from the body on top of you only adding to the pain.

"thank you for being such a kind guard," he drawled, audibly shaking your jacket to figure out which pocket the keys were in, "you really are great company, and such a sight for sore eyes."

your spotty vision was only further obscured by the tears that were now dripping onto the sheets. "p-please, d-don't hurt me..!" you cried, seeing him toss the jacket down on the floor, most likely having pocketed the keys for himself. he hauled your hips up by the waistline of your trousers, seeming to take joy in the way you whimpered at the strain you felt in your arms.

"do you really think you're in the place to make demands?" his voice was dripping with arrogance, breath hot on the back of your neck as he spoke into your ear, "the one who was stupid enough to fall for such a simple trick? the way i see it, it's almost like you were asking for this to happen."

you furiously shook your head at that, ignoring the way each thrash sent an ache echoing through your skull, teeth clenched in pain as you tried to force the words out. "n-no.. please, n-n-no—"

he didn't care much for your frantic tears or stammered pleas, already tugging your pants and underwear down around your trembling legs. "but you're worth a few moments of my time, all stupidity set aside. you really do look like that lovely barmaiden from my hometown." he paused to grab at the soft flesh of your exposed thighs, spreading you open as far as your position allowed it to, revealing the wetness of your involuntary excitement. "and look at that, already all nice and wet, just for me."

another pained sound escaped when he firmly grabbed your hair again, keeping the side of your face pressed into the bed, barely allowing you to hear him undo the zip of his pants and the ruffle of him pushing them down. he thrust into you without warning, drawing a hoarse whine from the burn of the sudden intrusion, eyes squeezed shut and lips parted to try and steady your strained, uneven breaths.

"relax, relax." he demanded, nearly growling as the heel of his palm pressing down on the back of your neck.

it wasn't as if this was your first time, but the people that you'd been with before we're always gentle with you, patient, asking infrequent but sincere "are you ok"s and "you're ok, right"s that quelled any unease about being in such a vulnerable position. but the hazy calm you'd had begun to associate with sex was completely absent in this moment, the empty space instead filled with the hiccuped sobs that refused to stay down in your chest, the throb of your bleeding scalp that was only worsened by his large hand grasping a fistful of your hair, beginning to clump with sticky red blood that was just starting to soak into the white sheets of the bed. you couldn't understand why that fear that was permeating through you, the peril that gripped your racing heart so relentlessly, the thought of not knowing whether you could assure your survival or not was only making you more and more excited for him.

he had taken up an unforgiving pace, driving small, broken moans from your lips, tense muscles gradually relaxing to accommodate all of him. it was wrong, you should've been fighting right now, keeping up your screams for help, anything to prove to yourself that you wanted to escape, but you found that it felt so terrifyingly good to give up under him.

"eren.." you barely managed to enunciate his name before your words devolved into more breathless whines, pins and needles pricking at your now numbing fingers that were losing circulation from your bindings.

"fucking pathetic," he spat, free hand moving to abuse your clit with rough, uncoordinated rubs, "you're just fucking begging for it, aren't you?"

he punctuated each abrasive word with a deeper thrust into you, dragging you over the edge before you even had the chance to realize how close you were to cumming. you cried out at the heat tearing through every inch of your sore flesh, nails digging into your palms as you slumped back against him, saliva dripping out of your open mouth and onto the bed.

the emptiness of him pulling out of you made you whimper, more strained sounds of protest escaping your throat as he flipped you onto your back, struggling to find a bearable position with the way your hands pressed uncomfortably into your spine. for the first time you were able to see the wild look in his eyes, his lips drawn back into more of a snarl that bared his teeth rather than a smile, even more of his long, dark hair having fallen from his hair tie. you could hardly take in the finer details of his image, the symptoms of the concussion you likely had already settling in around the edges of your vision, remaining sight starting to flicker out into darkness.

"wake up. hey." the sight of his hand rearing back and the sharp sting of its impact on your cheek were disconnected but registered all the same, forcing a pained groan out of you as you blinked up at him, trying desperately to dispel the black specks pulsing across your vision as you recovered from the jerk of your head being knocked to the side.

you could already feel the redness forming on the skin of your face, the rough hands that had just started tugging at your shirt impatiently tearing it halfway open, sending buttons flying off in every direction as he grinned down at you.

"you really threw a wrench into this whole plan of mine." he forced down a few chuckles, wiping some of your blood on his fingers off on your ruined shirt, "i should be making my way to the east exit right now, but all i can think right about it seeing that pretty fucking face you're gonna make when i make you cum again."

his fingers dug into the pliant flesh of your thighs, wrapping them around his waist as he pushed himself right back into you, clearly relishing in the way you whimpered out baseless pleas and curses. your legs squeezed around him instinctually, hips bucking up to meet his despite the small whisper in the back of your mind still begging for you to maintain a shred of dignity and push him away.

he kissed messily at the base of your neck, barely able to maintain the mimicry of intimacy for more than a few seconds before he was biting at the exposed skin, sometimes only just brushing his teeth over it but sometimes hard enough to print them into the bruising flesh. you could barely hold your eyes open enough to see the cracked ceiling above you, feeling the heat of his breaths over your shoulder and the audible clap of his skin meeting yours with every rough thrust. you chose to focus on the familiar pressure welling deep in your stomach, letting your eyes roll back into your head and your shaking legs squeeze tighter around him, only acknowledging his teeth breaking your skin with a whine in favor of just letting yourself hit that impossibly high peak once again.

he growled out a low string of curses into your neck, movements becoming less coordinated and even rougher as you came around him for his second time, not having enough lucidity to be ashamed of how easily release came. he continued even as your legs became heavy in his grasp, writhing and crying out dissipating into the occasional twitch, barely able to register the end of the entire exchange until you felt the liquid heat spilling into you. it only halfway made up for the lack of his cock in you as he pulled away, not bothering to try and bring you back to consciousness while he shoved himself back into his pants.

you roused on your own just a few moments later, gasping in quick little breaths and rolling yourself onto your side so you didn't crush your numb hands and wrists anymore than you already had, blinking away the blur of tears and the spottiness of passing out as you craned your neck to look up at him, wincing when you drew an injured area of skin taut. you just caught him tugging on your jacket, which had always fitted you loosely and was now fitting him snugly, his face flushed but having returned to his usual cool, impassive demeanor. but when he turned to look down at you, you could see a flicker of pride cross his features, the slightest smirk playing on his lips.

he said nothing as he walked right out of his cell, shutting the metal door and locking it behind him, the sound of his footfalls growing fainter down the hall and disappearing entirely as he ascended the steps. you would guess that it took around an hour for someone to come down and find you. by then, the slow stream of blood had slowed and clotted, and the belt around your wrists had loosened enough to allow adequate blood flow but still too tight for you to wriggle out of in your weakened state. you were sure that you looked pretty worse for wear; half naked, covered in injuries of varying severity, messy with a mix of blood, spit, tears, and cum.

but instead of thanking your lucky stars that you didn't have to spend the whole night trapped down there, you simply let your heavy eyes fall back shut as the soldier, a boy your age that you didn't know well but had gone out on a few mission with, promised to come back with a spare key and take you to the infirmary before running out in a panic. you didn't know whether you wanted eren jaeger to successfully make it out or be apprehended and sent right back here after they'd cleaned you up. would they interrogate him about how he escaped? would he tell them about you and the role you played in it?

after all was said and done, the only thing you were entirely sure about was that you'd probably never be allowed to go near him or participate in any assignments involving him ever again. and even after everything, a part of you just didn't want to believe that this was the end for the two of you.

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x reader smut #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x reader smut #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #m.nsfw

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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

Smoke & Mirrors - part 4

Neil x Reader

Chapter 4: Save me

(see chapter 3, 2, 1)

summary: what’s gonna happen if we lock them together for some time...?

warnings: some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+

author’s note: 4,8k words, just because I thought I needed to add more plot to it because you wanted 2 shorter chapters instead of a longer one. Who’s laughing now?

Reading this may cause a slight whiplash. Sorry, not sorry.

song for this chapter: Aimee Mann - Save me

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

----

The Protagonist’s eyes darted at Ives.

“And what did she say?”

“Short answer? Nunya,” Ives shrugged, closing the door behind him.

Wheeler giggled and TP looked at her in confusion.

“Long answer,” continued Ives, joining the other two by the coffee machine, “is that as long as they're doing their job, it doesn’t matter who they are fucking in their free time.”

“And are they?”

“What, fucking? I thought we’ve already--”

“No, doing their job,” TP pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I have a mission for them, but it requires locking them together for a significant amount of time.”

Wheeler took a sip from her cup. “If they don’t bond, they’ll bone, and I’d say it’s better than killing each other.”

Ives snorted, clearly amused, but TP hid his face in his palms and groaned lightly.

“Was that your plan all along?”

Wheeler gave them an innocent smile. “Wasn’t yours?” she asked, and as she caught the exchange of looks, her eyes lit up. “You’re welcome.”

-----

You found the car parked near the front door and you had to admit - that grey-ish sedan was the dullest, most ordinary vehicle you’d seen in a while. And that’s why it was perfect.

Neil tossed you the keys and proceeded to load your bags into the trunk. You went to check the GPS setting. The total route was calculated for a little over 5 hours, which gave you enough time to go over the details of the assignment at least once on the way there.

As your mission partner took the passenger seat, you handed him the tablet with all the documents loaded up and ready to go. He nodded, fortunately sparing you the small talk and unnecessary comments, and started reading through them out loud as you followed the GPS directions to your destination.

What you didn’t expect was an almost insultingly short length of reports from the previous stakeout teams, and even a slightly more detailed operation brief was not enough to keep you occupied for too long. Exhausting all the work-related topics, you tensed, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence between the two of you. Especially since you caught Neil’s stare, because if his furrowed brows could be any indication, you had a feeling he might start asking way too many questions any minute now.

As the radio crackled again, you groaned in frustration. There were still two hours left of traveling through the middle of nowhere, and you’d appreciate any distraction that wouldn’t make you want to drive into the nearest tree. Unlike talking to your partner.

Neil opened the glove compartment and searched through its contents. He found a thick CD case and started flipping through pages curiously. With the corner of your eye, you saw a grin lighting his face when he finally picked one.

As you heard the familiar piano notes, your knuckles on the steering wheel turned white. Oh, fuck no.

You glared at Neil, who was gently swaying his head, eyes closed, fighting himself to keep a straight face. When the lyrics started, he pressed his palms to his chest right over his heart and looked at you as he mouthed the words.

//When I was young

I never needed anyone

And making love was just for fun

Those days are gone//

You gritted your teeth and focused back on the road, trying to keep in check the rising anger already boiling the blood in your veins, as Neil was clearly feeling the song more and more with every line.

Well, at least this time he wasn’t--...

And then just as the chorus was about to hit, Neil mimicked the opening drum sequence and spread his arms wide, singing along:

//All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself

Anymore//

“If you don’t change that fucking song in the next 10 seconds, be ready to walk all the way to the city--...”

“Come on, it’s a classic!” he complained, the biggest smile not leaving his face even for a moment.

You smacked your tongue, finding your most casual voice, “...and I’m not gonna be bothered with pulling over.”

Neil turned down the volume so the music was barely audible, and while it was not what you’d asked him to do, he didn’t give you a chance to scold him.

“I bet you’ve spent at least one evening listening to that song with a big box of ice cream on your lap,” he smirked, closely watching your reaction to his words.

You could feel your ears burning. Fucking hell, you really hated his guts.

“No,” you scoffed, but even you were not convinced by the sound of that. Judging by Neil’s expression, neither was he. You winced and groaned, ”...shut up!”

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” - he shrugged - “been there, done that.”

“Of course you have,” you couldn’t help but snicker at the image planted in your head.

The blue eyes studied you for a while longer before focusing back at the view outside the window. Meanwhile, the song ended, getting replaced by an instrumental track. You turned the volume up and for the next minute or two, you drove in silence.

When you heard a light chuckle, you glanced at Neil again. There was something peculiar in the look on his face, a soft gaze in contrast to a knowing grin.

You sighed.

“Do I wanna know what you’re grinning about now?”

Neil raised a brow and his lips parted in an even wider smile.

“Probably not.”

You shook your head, drawing a long breath, wondering how you were going to survive the next forty-something hours together. You could just hope that being at the actual location and starting the real work was going to make it easier.

Grounding yourself, you stared into the darkness stepping back under the car’s headlights as dusk slowly turned into night. You noticed a faint glow of city lights reflecting in the clouds over the horizon and you relaxed slowly, tuning out anything other than the road ahead.

Just as the CD player jumped back to the first song again and you switched to a local radio station, now clear of static, you realized your companion had been unusually quiet for the last half an hour. You looked at the passenger seat only to find Neil deep in his sleep and your heart started beating a little faster. Suddenly, everything about the sight seemed endearing - the peaceful face under the ruffled blonde hair, the slightly open mouth almost hidden behind the turned-up collar of the dark navy jacket, the way he wrapped his arms around himself in a little self-hug…

Your lips curled into a fond smile and as your chest clenched painfully, you turned the radio down, wishing you could do the same thing to your feelings just as easily.

-----------

The second you pulled over in the alley at the back of the abandoned hotel, two figures emerged from the door and rushed in your direction. You recognized the fellow agents and jumped out of the car to make the exchange as smooth as possible.

“Ten-minute window until the patrol comes back,” you said to a short brunette, taking your bags out of the trunk and passing her the car keys.

“Got it,” she nodded, handing you the room key in return. “Our report should be ready before we reach HQ, I will send it to you ASAP.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that the lack of an easy escape plan is intentional,” said Neil as he grabbed one of the bags and looked around.

“But it is,” you shrugged, walking into the building and heading to the nearest staircase. “No loose ends. You’re either good enough to make it out undiscovered and alive, or you get revealed and --...”

“...and then even having the cavalry on call is not going to make a difference, I get it,’ he sighed, matching your two-steps-at-once pace up the stairs, “Can’t say I like it, though.”

“So let’s try not to do anything stupid so we don’t get caught, shall we?”

A corner of your lips twitched as you heard him scoff at your remark, but to your surprise, he didn’t take the bait. Huh.

When you reached the room, you turned the lock and looked around, taking mental note of the location of every piece of equipment left by the previous team - two cameras, night vision binoculars, and a parabolic microphone placed by the windows. Some parts of the blinds on the windows were broken, others were missing, but the remaining parts still provided a decent cover from the curious eyes peeking up from street level. Other than that, the room was exactly what you would expect from a stakeout location - peeled-off wallpapers of an undefined color, a small table with an electric kettle, a couple of chairs, a mini-fridge, and a mattress.

As you went to check the last few minutes registered by the camera, Neil started unpacking the supplies. Seeing nothing interesting on the feed, you grabbed one of the water bottles he’d just put on the table and took a seat by the window, your usual first-hour-of-stakeout enthusiasm fending off the tiredness you felt after the long drive.

Neil took a laptop and sat on a chair at the other window, alternating glancing outside and typing in a message to TP with a quick update on your situation.

Your main objective was to observe the building on the other side of the street, especially one loft that was suspected to be a meeting place for one of the smuggling cells’ bosses. Snapping photos of the vehicles pulling over, of the visitors, and reporting any odd activity straight ahead. The usual. But it was past midnight already and your targets were having a pretty quiet night, apparently.

As Neil finished filing in the paperwork, he stretched his arms and groaned.

“Tea?”

You rubbed your eyes, a sudden wave of sleepiness flooded your brain as soon as you lost focus on the mission.

“Yes, please, there should be a box with a green one somewhere.”

“Ah, pity, I don’t know how well it’s gonna mix with the biscuits,” said Neil in a ridiculous posh accent, making you facepalm in response.

Partially, to hide an amused smile.

You really were that tired, huh?

“I take my tea with no sugar, no biscuits, and no snarky comments, thanks,” you huffed as your eyes followed him to the table.

“I, too, don’t like talking over a cuppa.”

“What did I just say--” you groaned, smacking your thigh in frustration.

Neil giggled and rolled his eyes, now lit by a playful twinkle. “All right, one ‘green tea no bullshit’ coming right up.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, glancing up to the ceiling as if it was supposed to help with the alarming level of annoyance in your system.

Less than two hours on-site and you already wanted to strangle him.

Among other things.

And before you could stop your tired brain, it brought up a memory of that karaoke night.

His hands roaming through your body. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. Your frantic gasp when you felt him inside you. His firm grip on your hips. The heart racing in your chest. Your longing body pressing itself into him even further. His uneven breath on your neck. The quickening pace of his thrusts. Your eyes squeezing shut. His muffled moan when you tugged at his hair. The cold wall against your cheek. Your fingers interlocked. His arm wrapped around you tightly. The things whispered into your ear---

“Your tea.”

“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking rapidly and focusing your gaze on a thermal cup in front of your face. “Oh, thanks.”

Neil studied your expression curiously, a sly grin hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“Pleasant daydream?”

“Maybe,” you sent him a smug smile and raised a brow.

His lips parted slightly at the implication. Drinking his tea, he schooled his features and sat back on the chair.

You spent the next moments enjoying the hot beverages, the silence becoming more comfortable with every sip you took. But as the time went by and you ran out of tea, the peacefulness turned into boredom.

Finally, Neil shuffled in his seat and turned your way.

"We should play a game."

Even though it sounded tempting, you didn’t trust those roguish sparks in his eyes.

“We already had a chance to play ‘yellow car’,” - you shrugged - “not my fault you chose a nap instead.”

His puzzled face gave you a hint he didn’t get the reference. Pity.

“I was thinking about some sort of...questions game,” he said and cleared his throat, shifting in his chair again. "To get to know each other better."

"Why?" you stared at him with your mouth open, suddenly taken aback.

He gave you a half-smile. "Don't you think it's weird that the only thing I know about you is all the ways to turn you on and piss you off?"

"Wouldn't be so confident about that ‘all’ part…" you huffed and lost a train of thought as you spotted the familiar flare in his gaze.

"You’re sure you wanna challenge me like that right now?"

A cold shiver ran down your spine at the way his voice got lower. You gritted your teeth as your mind started racing to find a way out of the dangerous waters.

"Aren't you a master of multitasking?" you teased, batting your eyelashes.

"And aren't you scared of having an actual conversation?" Neil narrowed his eyes and grimaced slightly.

"Fine!” you fumed as you tossed your hands in the air in defeat. “Why don’t you get straight to the point because I have a weird feeling you have a very specific question in mind."

A silence that dropped after your words was heavy and you realized you’d made a mistake.

"Actually, I do,” he said, tilting his head and locking his gaze on you. “What's up with you and kissing?"

...shit, walked right into that one, huh?

You pulled one leg up on the chair, glancing outside the window to avoid the blue eyes boring into you. "It's nothing."

“Didn’t look like nothing to me.”

Sighing, you rested the chin on your knee and wrapped your arms around it, as if that little bit of comfort was enough to make the conversation easier. Your ears were burning, your heart pounded heavily in the clenched chest, and it all was only adding to your frustration. Because it really was nothing. Or maybe it should have been, and that was the issue.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it--”

Your eyes darted at Neil only to meet his soft look. A shadow of concern on his face wasn’t helping, but you were grateful that he was willing to give you a way out.

Although at that moment, you felt you owed him an explanation.

“No, it’s just that it’s a bit silly,” you said, wincing. “I’m gonna tell you, but if you laugh, I will murder you in your sleep.”

Neil smiled lightly in encouragement.

“Got it.”

So you took a deep breath and squeezed the first word past the lump in your throat.

“It’s just that kissing to me was always something… special,” you cringed, fully aware that you sounded like a flustered teenager. “Like it really meant something. Do you know where I’m going with this?”

Neil’s brows knitted together.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good,” you sighed, forcing yourself to breathe again. “And some time ago, I made a mistake and opened up too soon, burning myself. Fuck, it’s pathetic, I know, I just…” you hesitated and looked away, feeling the rising panic. You were exposing yourself, again. “...maybe I’m just wired that way and we should leave it at that. And never talk about it again,” your voice was hollow, the result of your brain’s desperate attempts to keep your emotions bottled up, just to keep you safe.

And after what felt like forever--

“Okay.”

You shot him a thankful look, too overwhelmed to say anything.

Neil got up, moving his shoulders in small circles to get rid of the stiffness. As he walked by you on his way to the bathroom, he patted your arm lightly. Reassuringly. The tip of your nose tingled and you bit the inside of your cheek, cursing a sudden wave of softness clouding your mind.

A few minutes passed and Neil was back. He fell on the chair heavily, slowly massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers. Catching a question in your stare, he shook his head and grinned.

“What?” you asked, squinting suspiciously.

Neil chuckled, leaning back and spreading his legs. “Trying to figure you out is giving me a headache.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, focusing on the view outside the window.

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things, you know.”

“So it’s all an act?”

You looked back at him, suddenly perplexed. “What is?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely in your direction and shrugged. “Or rather your usual behavior.”

You snorted. “Oh, I am a real ray of sunshine, but somehow being around you makes my inner bitch jump out,” you teased, meeting his amused gaze. A corner of your lips curled and you exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, after some time you learn life is easier that way, and at one point the line blurs,” you stopped for a second and frowned, wondering what had gotten into you tonight. “Does it make any sense to you?”

Something new tainted Neil’s features as he looked away, smiling sadly.

“You have no idea.”

Just as you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, the blue eyes darted back at you.

“I’ll take the first shift, already had my nap after all,” the little laugh escaping his mouth felt forced. “You must be exhausted. Try to get some sleep.”

Oh you were exhausted, all right. But all of the sudden it felt as if he wanted to get rid of you and you couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt by that. There was something in his presence that gave you a hint that it wasn’t the best idea to pressure him about it now, and you slumped your shoulders, nodding.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, getting up. All that held-back fatigue was going to hit you in full force any minute now, and you really wanted to be laid down by then.

A few moments in the bathroom and you were back in the room again in more comfortable clothes. You rolled out a sleeping bag on the mattress and slipped into it, covering your mouth as you let out a small yawn.

“Wake me up if anything happens or you need me to take over, will you?”

Neil shot you a quick look from his chair.

“Sure thing,” he gave you a weak smile. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumbled.

You curled up and closed your eyes, hoping the heaviness you felt in your chest would be gone by the morning.

--------

It took your still half-asleep brain a moment to remember where you were and what was going on. You looked around as much as you could without moving your body to avoid revealing that you were no longer asleep. Oh right, the stakeout.

You noticed Neil sitting on the floor by the only floor-to-ceiling window near the corner of the room, looking outside. The early morning light seeping through the blinds was reflecting in the disheveled blonde hair, a fitting addition to his overall tired appearance. It seemed like he’d spent most of the night working through whatever bothered him after your last talk, but he seemed more at peace now. You studied him in a little moment of sleep-deprived self-indulgence, musing over the dark quarter zip pullover, those absurdly long legs in khaki pants--...

Okay, enough. You sat up, rubbing your face.

“How’s the mattress?”

Hearing Neil’s raspy voice made you quite tempted to invite him over to check for himself.

“Passable,” you replied instead, stretching your arms and wriggling out of your sleeping bag. You nodded at the cameras. “Anything?”

“Not really. One visitor, already on the list,” he said as his eyes followed you around the room.

“All right,” you sighed, flipping the switch on the kettle. “I need coffee, you want some?”

“No, thank you, but if you could pass me a bottle of water--”

You grabbed one and tossed it to him, heading to the bathroom.

When you finally looked and felt like a decent human being again, you went back to finish making coffee. As you walked to the windows with the thermal cup in your hands, you caught Neil’s resigned stare. You sat down on the floor in front of him, leaning your shoulder against the wall. A glimpse of internal battle clouded his features and you tilted your head, waiting for him to speak up first.

“I didn’t want this,” he blurted out, and when nothing else followed the statement, you cleared your throat.

“You have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

Neil clenched his jaw. You noticed a hint of frustration in his eyes, but then his shoulders dropped and he let out a nervous chuckle, fastening his gaze on the view outside the window.

“I wanted to do things by the book. When TP recruited me… I thought I’d be just another field agent and I was okay with that,” he sighed and grimaced. “But he insisted on fast-tracking me, even when I told him it wasn’t fair to the rest of you.” Neil shook his head slowly and a corner of his lips twitched. “He promised me one of his best agents’ help on the way though. Imagine my surprise when the agent in question kept snarling at me and shoving me around instead.”

When Neil looked back at you, you realized the meaning behind his words and your mind went blank. You stared into the blue eyes with your mouth open, trying to process everything you’d just heard and its implications.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you breathed out, feeling light-headed.

“Why?”

“Nobody told you…?” you asked, but his confused expression was his only answer. And you simply couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known all this time. “I’d been working my ass off for that position,” you huffed, studying his reaction to your words closely. “And then you showed up.”

Neil’s face dropped as he finally connected all the dots. “Fuck...I had no idea, I’m sorry.”

Seeing his sincere look, you sighed, raking fingers through your hair. Fucking hell, what a mess. The impossible mix of emotions swirled inside you and you giggled hysterically, suddenly finding the whole situation absolutely hilarious.

“And I had no idea I was supposed to babysit you,” you said as you stretched your legs, positioning them alongside Neil’s.

“Thought we were having a moment here,” he scoffed, smiling lightly.

You smirked and tapped his thigh with your foot.

“Think again.”

Neil tapped you back, stifling a chuckle. “You’re insufferable.”

“Too bad you can’t do anything about that now, huh,” you teased, wiggling your brows as you nibbled at your bottom lip.

The blue eyes lit up. “Just you wait till we finish the job,” he said slowly and placed a hand on your ankle.

But before you could respond, you heard a phone alert and Neil jumped at his feet.

He read the message quickly.

“Seems like we are about to see some action after all,” he said, pressing the phone to his ear. You downed your coffee and joined Neil by the table.

“Hold on, I’m gonna put you on speaker… okay, now”

“Hope you two are rested,” TP’s voice filled the room. “We intercepted a phone call. Our target is expecting a delivery in the next hour or so. Significant enough that from this moment on, the mission objective changes.” You exchanged looks with Neil, knowing well what was coming next. You walked back to the windows to keep an eye on the street. “We have a chance to prevent this shipment from spreading to different sellers. I’m sending the cavalry your way. But you’ll need to assess the situation as it progresses.”

“Means we might have to engage early, got it.”

“It’s your call, Neil. And as we have enough intel now… no loose ends. Good luck.” said TP and hung up.

Neil tossed the phone on the table and dashed to the bags to prep the equipment. You noticed movement in the loft across the street and snapped a few pictures before looking back at your partner.

“Are you good to go? You haven’t slept tonight.”

He glanced at you and gave you a smug smile.

“How nice of you to worry about me.”

You could feel the usual annoyance mixed with a new emotion, but maybe you were just glad to be back on familiar waters.

“Nah, I’m worried about the mission,” you snorted. “Especially if we may end up going in there alone.”

“I’m okay. How does it look out there?”

You looked outside again and tensed as a van appeared at the end of the street. “We’ve got company.”

Neil changed you by the window and you rushed to get ready.

-------

After clearing the back entrance, you found yourselves in the underground garage.

Splitting up, you took down the guards one by one without raising any alarms.

Neil checked the van and then you both made your way upstairs. You knew there were at least five more people in the loft, but you had to rely on the element of surprise because the cavalry was still on their way.

As you got to the door, you cocked your pistol and met Neil’s determined stare. You nodded.

Bursting through the door, your instincts kicked in, allowing you to put a bullet into two men before they had a chance to realize what was going on. In the next second all hell broke loose. You knew one thing - you somehow underestimated the numbers. And just as you thought that maybe you got lucky and got every last of them, someone grabbed you from behind and you felt something cold and sharp pressed against your neck. Fuck.

You dug your fingers into the arm wrapped around your shoulders, but a stinging pain made you stop any further attempts at breaking free. The blood pounded in your ears and everything seemed to slow down.

You noticed Neil standing in front of you with a gun pointed right next to your head.

He secured a grip on his pistol and the man holding you yelled something at him, but you didn’t listen, focusing completely on the blue eyes, now filled with a silent question, looking straight into yours.

You let out a shaky breath and blinked slowly.

A gunshot echoed through the room.

The pressure on your neck lowered and you heard a thud of a body fitting the floor behind you.

Neil lowered his gun.

You stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

“Nice shot,” you said, composing yourself first.

He gave you a weak smile, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, your comms filled with a familiar voice.

“We’ve missed all the fun, eh?”

------

Neither of you said anything on the way back to the HQ, not counting the short answers to the questions asked by Ives, but even he gave up after a while seeing you weren’t in the mood for talking.

You got your duffel bag out of the trunk and looked around. Neil was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the building, talking on the phone. You walked up to him slowly, waiting for him to finish the conversation.

“Do they need us to get in to file a report?”

“No, I convinced TP to give us the rest of the day off,” he said, hiding the phone in the pocket of his jacket. “We can do that first thing tomorrow, I’m just gonna drop the equipment now.”

“Great, thanks.”

You couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment. You tossed the bag on your arm and smiled at the thought of a long hot shower and crashing in your own bed.

There was just one thing you needed to do first.

Neil took a step towards the building and without thinking too much about it, you reached out for his hand.

“Neil…?”

He stopped and turned around, puzzled. His eyes dropped to your joined hands and slowly moved up to your face.

You gave him a nervous smile.

“Thank you.”

His features softened and he squeezed your hand gently.

“Don’t mention it.”

And then he smirked.

...of course.

“Guess that makes us even.”

(next chapter->)

#neil tenet x reader #neil tenet #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet #robert pattinson #tenet fanfiction #the protagonist tenet #ives tenet #wheeler tenet #neil tenet imagine #neil x reader #smoke & mirrors #tags hate me

115 notes · View notes

msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years

Text

Stranger

Betrayal

Summary - Dean Winchester rescues you from the Djinn. Some hard truths are learnt when you wake up and find him arguing with his brother.

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings - Fluff-ish, Angst, too much angst, Swearing, Verbal Altercation.

Word Count - 2.1k+

Square filled - Domestic!AU ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N - Thanks to @miss-nerd95 for giving this a once over because I was nervous that it got too dramatic (damn you Bollywood)

This is also a submission for @winchesterxfamilybusiness' Make Me Swoon Challenge. Prompt is in bold.

Series Masterlist

“Are you sure this will work?” Dean hesitated.

“Well, we gotta try and we have to hurry. Clock’s ticking,” Sam said, as Dean swallowed the herb.

Five hours. That's how long you were unconscious. Dean had carried you back to your room, placing you gingerly on the bed. His heart clenched at the sight. You were home, but this was not how Dean wanted things to go. He had pushed you away in hopes you will be safe from the supernatural but the universe had other plans.

Dean wouldn't admit, but he was terrified at the thoughts of invading your dreams. ‘What was your happily ever after?’ That question was haunting him. The Djinn always lets you see your heart's desire and Dean was scared to find out the answer to that, but he had to take the step because this was the only way you could be saved.

Sam had agreed to take the African dream root, but the older Winchester had stepped in, saying, “She's in that state because of me. Let me take those.”

The herbs worked their magic and soon he found himself in your dream.

“Happy birthday, baby,” your husband wrapped his arms around you, “I have plans for tonight.”

“What about the kids?”

“I have asked your Mom. She will take them for one night. The kids are excited to spend time with their Mee-maw and Paw-paw,” Dean said.

“Hm, I see you have planned everything,” You smirked.

“Uh-huh. Down to every last detail. Even the things I will do to you in bed tonight,” Dean’s eyes darkened at the thought, “I bet you never got such a gift. You won't be able to walk properly for weeks.”

“I may or may not have a return gift planned for you too,” you winked, “something I bought from the Victoria Secret.”

“Fuck me,” Dean breathed out.

“Gladly,” you said, “but you gotta wait till tonight.” You gently patted his chest and walked over to the kids’ room to get them ready for the evening, unbeknownst to the fact that the real world Dean Winchester was watching the whole interaction with wide eyes, heart breaking into a million pieces.

“Y/N,” you saw your husband jogging up to you, with horror in his eyes.

“What? Baby, you okay?” You asked, your movements coming to a halt. Dean's breath hitched as he heard you call him ‘baby’. “Okay honey, you're scaring me. What's wrong?”

“This-this is not real Y/N,” Dean said.

“What?” You chuckled.

“This is all a dream. You need to snap out of it,” Dean insisted.

“What is this? Some kind of stupid prank?” You crossed your arms, “I gotta go check on the kids honey.”

“Kids?” He frowned.

“Yeah right, Mister. What, next you're gonna ask me if we are married or not?” You said, clearly getting annoyed.

“Marr-wha-no….Y/N, y-you don't understand. This is a dream. Y/N/N, you are dreaming! You don't have any….kids.”

“Dean Winchester, don't you dare say that,” you crossed your arm and gave him a once over.

“Sweetheart, you gotta believe me! I know this all seems a bit strange but your husb-that Dean i-is not real. He is just a figment of your imagination. I-I'm real,” he pleaded.

“Did you hit your head somewhere, honey?” You were now genuinely concerned about him.

He shook his head and grabbed your hands, dragging you back to the kitchen. You cocked your head in confusion as you kept looking at Dean rummaging through the closet.

“Dean! If you dare to mess up my kitchen, I'm gonna kill you,” you warned. He looked at you and grabbed a knife and made his way towards you. “Dean? Babe, what is it?” You asked with the frown on your face deepening at his actions.

“See, I-I can show you this is not real,” he said and stabbed himself in the chest

“Stop it Dean!” You gasped in horror, “Wha-”

“I'm not dead! I am not even bleeding. Look at this,” Dean exclaimed. You looked down to see the knife sticking out of his chest but he was alive and there was no blood.

“What? I-I don't understand. This is not-all this while I-I've been dreamin’. But it all felt so real. How can this be….De, what's happening?” You were on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“Sweetheart, listen to me carefully. You are in a Djinn-poison induced dream state. They mess with your head. I know; I've been there.”

“Djinn?”

“I'll explain everything but first you need to wake up, Y/N/N,” Dean begged.

“How?” You cried out.

“You need to kill yourself,” he said.

“What?”

“Yes. If you kill yourself in your dreams, you will wake up. Now come on,” he said and handed you the knife.

“You sure?”

“Do you trust me?,” he asked you.

You were frightened and confused but you believed Dean. Nodding your head at him, you took the knife and looked at Dean one more time.

“It's gonna be fine. Trust me, sweetheart.”

Your heart was beating loudly against your chest as you tightened the hold on the knife. You sucked in a breath as you stabbed yourself in the stomach.

Gasping loudly, you sat up straight in the bed.

“Y/N,” your eyes met with Dean’s worried green ones.

“Dean?” You asked, your head filled with various questions. Dean pulled you into a tight hug.

“I-I thought I lost you sweetheart,” he croaked, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“It's okay. I'm here,” you looked around, “where am I?”

“In the bunker,” another tall man came into the room and said.

“Who-who are you?” You asked, as Dean let you go, “I-I'm so confused. What happened? Dean, how did you-I was….was I married?”

“Y/N you….uh-you were attacked by a Djinn. They are supernatural beings and we hunt them,” Dean said, “you were in a dream state and you dreamt of things like….m-marriage and uh-kids. Djinns usually show you your heart's desire.”

“Are you kidding me? You hunt them? You hunt monsters? What next, are you gonna tell me that Drac is real? And he runs a hotel for freaks in Transylvania?”

“I know it's a lot to take in but it's true, not the Dracula part but me and my brother, Sam, we hunt them. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, everything is real,” Dean said.

“Sam?” You looked at the other man in the room who was staring at you silently.

“Hey,” the man who was standing patiently at the foot of the bed, cracked a smile at you.

“What is this place?” You asked.

“This is the bunker. Our home, workplace, everything,” Sam said, “You also-”

“You should take some rest now,” Dean interrupted his brother, getting a side glance from him.

“S-sure but why didn't you tell me about this the night we met?”

“Our job is not a conventional one. We can't go around, telling everyone that monsters exist,” Sam said, “It's better if people don't know about things like this.”

“Okay,” you looked around the room again, fear seeping into you which faded quickly as Dean placed his warm hand on yours, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance.

“You're safe here, sweetheart,” Dean gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“I never thought I would meet you again.” Your heart fluttering in your chest at his touch.

“Neither did I.”

“Thanks for saving me. Thanks to both of you,” you said, and the brothers smiled at you before stepping out of the room to give you some privacy.

Even though you were living in a dream for the past few hours, you were exhausted so sleep came easy to you.

You didn't know how long you were asleep before you were woken up by some muffled screams coming from outside the room.

Your ears perked up when you heard Dean's voice.

“No I can't!” He yelled.

“You have to tell her, Dean!” The other voice, probably Sam’s yelled back. You winced as you got up from the bed and went out of the room, the voices getting louder and clearer. Your whole body screamed in protest with every step you took.

“I-I can't,” Dean let out a defeated sigh.

‘What are they arguing about?’ You wondered as you finally made your way towards the brothers. The halls of the bunker felt oddly familiar to you.

“Do you think she is safe like this? She is a huntress Dean!” Sam exclaimed, “This-this is her home. She doesn't even remember the bunker! She doesn't remember me!”

“What am I supposed to say?” Dean asked.

“The truth!”

“She won't believe me and telling her the truth means sucking her back to this goddamn stupid life!” Dean shouted at his brother, “And I won't let that happen.”

‘Were they talking about you?’ You wondered and moved closer to the brothers.

“How can you be so selfish, Dean? You are only thinking about yourself! You are not the person I looked up to as my brother!” Sam shoved his brother hard.

“Well people change with time,” Dean said in a bitter tone, “and how is it selfish? I won't let her die because of me.”

“They do, but their feelings remain the same amd you're scared. You still love Y/N and it would be stupid if you let her walk away!” Sam scoffed. Your eyes widened at Sam's words.

“You don't understand,” Dean gritted out.

“At least she will understand!”

“No she won't! She was married in her dream - she had kids; that's her happily ever after! Not with me-”

“She was married to you, Dean!” Sam retorted, “that's her happily ever after - with you. With us, in this bunker. She is family and we don't give up on family then how could you push her away? Don't do anything that you will regret later on. This is probably your last chance to fix the mess.”

“I-I can't. She is gonna hate me. It's better this way. It's not like she remembers being married to me,” Dean mumbled.

You gasped in shock grabbing the attention of the brothers.

“Married?”

“Y/N?” Dean asked.

“I thought I was only married in my dreams but I-we were married?” You asked him.

“I-uh….Y/N you should go re-”

“Don't tell me to go and rest!” You exclaimed. Dean glared at his brother, taking a deep breath.

“Stop running away from the problem for once,” Sam muttered in a low voice but loud enough for his brother to hear him.

“Y/N, you are….we are married,” Dean said, squeezing his eyes shut.

“But I don't remember it. Dean? Sam?” You gulped.

“How can you do this, Dean Winchester?” You asked, your blood boiling in anger.

“I did it to protect you,” Dean calmly stated.

“Great fucking job with that because last time I checked I was almost monster food!” You shouted.

“You don't understand!” Dean retorted.

“Then make me, asshole!”

“You got almost killed, because of me! I almost killed you!” He yelled.

“Shut up! Just fucking shut up!” You said, as you sat down in the chair, trying to wrap your mind around the new facts you just learnt. You were married to Dean Winchester. You were a huntress. Then what about your friends, your job, your life in Idaho? What was true? You didn't know what to believe.

“Y/N, sweetheart, say something. Please.” Dean begged.

“I'm not your sweetheart, Dean. You lost the right to call me yours the moment you took a life-changing decision for me and pushed me away,” you said, tears forming in your eyes.

“I-I….I did it to protect you. You mean everything to me,” Dean said.

“Then why did you push me away? Why did you erase my memories? We could have dealt with this together. Why, Dean, why? I can't even hunt anymore! I don't even remember the basic ways to protect myself. You made me helpless. Tell me Dean, how did you protect me?” You asked. Dean kept quiet.

“Y/N, maybe we can fix it. Maybe Cas can fix it,” Sam said, who all the while stood in the war room as a silent observer.

You scoffed, “I don't-I don't even remember Cas. Great job, Dean! Great fucking job! You think you are so great, trying to protect me, but all you are a selfish asshole. You destroyed my life, Dean. Destroyed it! Congratulations, Winchester!”

“I thought-”

“From next time, don't think because your thoughts always destroy something good just like it destroyed us!” You were angry and sad. You couldn't believe Dean could do such a thing.

“I loved you, Y/N, I still do and I-”

“Well newsflash Dean, I don't love you anymore,” you scoffed, “Because in case you didn't know, I don't even remember us - what we used to be.” Turning on your heels, you went back to your room, leaving behind a heartbroken Dean Winchester.

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