#arm yourself with a stare so frigid as to pierce through the very being of another | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starchamberzz · 11 days

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I LOVE NIKOLAI GOGOLLL

BIG DISCLAIMERRR: I consume almost entirely x reader content. I cringe and rot from the inside when reading smut from any other POV . Also this is my first time so don't hate me please😔 I mostly lurk on this app but I was THAT horny that I felt the need to write a damn fic myself.

Basically: Nikolai torments a civilian regularly (not clickbait,gone FREAKY??)

Contains: FemdomReader,Biting,Pegging,Creampie :(

Nikolai first runs into you (covered in blood at that) and immediately grins when when you jump back in disgust and scream at him. As soon as you scramble to your feet you glance at him,petrified,eyes wide as saucers before sprinting away.

Right there and then he wasn't interested in whatever he came to the town to do;he was interested in having fun with a new target.

The next few weeks were something else,a torturous mix of humour,shock,and concern for the man's mental health. He simply appeared wherever using that dammed ability of his and forced you into his nonsensical 'quizzes'. Nikolai would show up for one of the quizzes at your workplace and at your local supermarket!

There was something that you began to tell yourself after the first few times things began to happen.

The later it gets,the more questionable he is. A visit from him at 10am paints a picture of a hyper man,who takes his jester aesthetic too seriously. A visit from him at 12:30 am is completely different. He's much...slower and suspiciously nice.You'd think his eccentric personality wouldn't be dampened by the time. Nikolai sits next to you-in total darkness,while whispering your name and giggling before wrapping his arm around you and trying to convince you to join him in doing something no sane person would,it's just,cute...and quite disturbing.When he's like that he's impressively more likeable,that's probably why he's more tolerable to you,but not enough to get rid of the lack of comfort you feel sometimes.

This evening however, was rather calming;helping to take your mind off of things for even just a few minutes.The frigid but soothing breeze of the night flowed through a window left cracked open....

Your heart stopped. The damn window was open.

You gasp,realising you've thrown away a peaceful night's sleep. A few seconds later you hear it. No matter how quiet it was you hear that dammed laugh. He was really beginning to get on your nerves,you felt like grabbing him and giving him a thorough shake that would miraculously make him normal. You guess that urge was just a part of the weird relationship you guys had with eachother.

"I know you're there." You half-shout,peering into a dark,gloomy corner of your dead silent room. You pause and stare for a moment until...

"Boo!"

Nikolai shouts as he appears at your bedside and you let out a loud scream.You could've swore you felt his presence in that corner,how odd. That wasn't important at the moment though.

You sighed as your head hung low. "What is it? A quiz? Did you kidnap someone again?"

"Absolutely not! It's a special request this time! A very fun special request at that!" His voice pierces through your ears,as you groan,he just had to appear right as you were about to sleep.

You raised a brow under a spell of heavy concern for your wellbeing and overwhelming confusion,a special request from him sounded like something that could only go wrong.

"My special request is....drumroll please!" He paused and looked at you with one of his creepy smiles until you drummed your hands against your thighs. "My special request is....a night with you!"

"No." The two-letter word smoothly flowed from your mouth like second nature. No way were you going to let a criminal spend the night in your house,there was absolutely no way-

You took a second look at him, he looked more 'normal' then usual,but just being less insane wouldn't cut it-- he looked oddly cute,standing at your bedside with his face half obscured in darkness.

He hadn't done too much harm,if he hadn't killed you yet why would he do it now,right? You sigh and slowly nod. He giggles and then immediately invites himself into your bed. You instantly have a feeling that you made a bad choice. You lie next to him,sweating anxiously and anticipating his next order.

15 minutes later and he hasn't asked a single question. That worried you. Was he seriously just going to sleep in your bed with you? It wasn't bad,just weird. It was silent,except from the occasional laugh from Nikolai and it the additional body heat was baking you under the covers.

He makes an effort to teasingly,agonisingly wrap his arms around a singular one of yours and then to wrap his plump thighs around one of your legs. Suddenly,his lips shift towards your ear.

"When do I get a kiss?!" Just by that very statement that whole mood changes.You give him a look of shock and judgement before her tugs on your arm. "I'm waiting! Or...I could set fire to your neighbours house and-"

Your loud groan cuts him off. Slowly,you turn around to face him,were you really about to kiss with the man that had been harassing you so much lately? Not only that but he was probably a murderer too!

You push the moral implications to the side and close your eyes,prepared for a kiss. It doesn't take long though,in a few seconds his soft lips push against yours and you instinctively wrap your arms his waist. The feeling was more pleasant than expected,you wouldn't deny that.

After you two break apart, he jumps up from the bed and grins.

"Are you ready for another request..?" You barely get the chance to say that the change was too sudden before he interrupts you. "Of course you are!" He pats you on the head as you glare at him.

"I am requesting that we make love! Right now! Wouldn't it be fun?" He steps back,reaches into his coat and pulls out a phallic object with multiple straps dangling from it.It also has a rather suspicious button to the side of it."This is for you,my friend,what do you say?!"

You froze and just looked at him in complete shock for a moment. There wasn't at all enough build up to a moment like this! Although,at a second glance,he was kind of cute...before you remembered that he had been harassing you for weeks up until this moment.

You think for a while before nodding,perhaps if you agreed to this he'd stop being so...intense?

Nikolai hands you the strap on and you put it on as carefully as you can,making sure its secure. When you look up however,you find that Nikolai is somehow already undressed,you were only getting ready for a few seconds,how did he even-

You decide to put that thought away for the time being and focus on giving him all of your attention,he wasn't too bad after all,and he seemed ever so slightly anxious about doing it with you.

Before you could do any penetrating you decided he needed preparation first. You softly placed your hands on his legs and gave him a warm smile.

"Could you open up for me please?"

He does so,revealing his throbbing dick and tight entrance. You slip a finger in slowly and and gently move it back and forth inside of him as he quietly whimpered. It was so weird to see him quiet and obedient after everything. It left you wondering where his energy went because his smile definitely didn't leave,it was just less..intense.

Before you increased the speed of anything else you push another finger into his warm walls and he lets out a slight yelp at the sudden intrusion. He writhes against the bed as you spread him out even further.Hearing him moan your name aloud while giving you sultry stare only encouraged you to go on.

"I think we should get onto tonight main activity! What do you say?" His words were all spit out in quick succession,was he that eager?

After you sit up you grab his plump thighs and slowly push it in,beginning with the tip.The sudden moan that he let out quickly descended into a freakish laugh that may or may not have actually added to the atmosphere. Hearing it made your heart pang in a way that sent shivers throughout your whole body.

His hole stretched around you, each thrust filling him with a different sensation. He moaned softly, unable to resist the sheer pleasure of being trusted into so deeply. "Agh! Its all...so much..." Nikolai moaned loudy before he slumped heavily against you, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

"Faster, go faster!" At his command you sped up,thick cock quickly ramming against his most sensitive spots,leaving the only way to hold onto you properly being to wrap his legs around your waist.

As you continue to thrust into his tight,coiling walls you feel a sudden sharp pain on your left shoulder. You slow your pace subconsciously and look over only to find sharp teeth lodged into your shoulder. Blood slowly seeps and trickles down your arm,a scarlet stream begins to drip onto your bed slowly.

You collect yourself quickly before putting everything to a stop "What was that for?" You asked,slightly pained and heavily concerned. Everything had convinced you that the worst possible comment would spill from his mouth,but it was a blood stained grin,rouge dribbled down his teeth and down his chin. To him the situation was funny or somewhat arousing..or maybe both? That didn't matter though.

"You can't just do that and expect me to continue how you'd want." You flip him over and press him into the sheets of your already ruined bed.He let's out a few pathetic whimpers,trying playfully on move out of your grasp for a minute.

"Ahn!" He suddenly moaned as your cock began to thrust in and out of him. Every single pitiful whine,whimper and mewl was like heaven to your ears. Seeing the teasing man who tormented you for so long like this felt better than it should've. Here he was,arched against you,chanting your name into the mattress every time you pushed his head against it.

As you continued pounding into him,it was like he had lost all his sense of self. Merely giggling while drooling absentmindedly onto your sheets as he took your cock.The way it rubbed against his prostate so nicely and poked into the deepest parts of him made his mind go blank,not that it didn't have the same effect on you as well.

At last,the constant pleasure was too much for him and his orgasm grew closer,he just needed some extra stimulation. He slid his hand down and wrapped a hand around his cock. You noticed this and quickly removed it.

"If you want to cum so badly,you'll have to wait until I do,understand?" You pushed him against the bed again,leaving him to bite into a pillow.

You slammed into him relentlessly while blocking every plead to let him cum. The way the strap-on rubbed against you felt too good,he would get his release soon anyway. You felt the pleasure in every single vein and muscle of your body,eager to escape once you climaxed. With one final slam,you finally had your orgasm,all of your senses overriding any rational thoughts. As you rode out your orgasm,slowly grinding against Nikolai,you accidentally pressed the odd button on one of the straps. You thought nothing of it but to your surprise, a muffled moan can be heard from beneath you.

Nikolai squealed as a hot liquid gushed into him,the sensation was too much. He writhed beneath you as his leaking cock shot out rope after rope onto your bed.

After that,you finally lie back and collect yourself. The teasing jester notices your lack of energy and frees himself from your grasp before trapping you in a sweaty embrace. You close your eyes and accept the hug.

"I guess it did work...your finally being kind to m-" You felt a familiar sharp pain again. That idiot had bitten your other shoulder. Right then and there,you learned that some people would never change...

GUYS I DONT KNOW HOW TUMBLR WORKS,PLEASE TELL ME I FUCKING FORMATTED IT RIGHT.😭

#sub!character #dom!reader #sub bsd #sub nikolai

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randonauticrap · 2 years

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The Beast's Dance

Word Count: 1765

Warnings: Teasing, fingering

Pairing: Chevalier Michel/Reader

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The myriad of colored skirts swung in unison, flinging the shadows from the sconces against the wall in a brilliant display. You watched from the edge of the ballroom, your escort having ditched you long ago in favor of several tall, slender noblewomen in somewhat revealing dresses. You shook your head at Jin, who was flashing a dazzling smile at the woman he was dancing with. You realized fairly quickly that you should have asked a different Prince, but the damage had already been done and you didn’t want to go back on your word so soon before the ball. However, as you watched Jin laugh loudly in response to the blush on the face of the woman he held in his arms, you felt your heart ache ever so slightly. You wished you could have that kind of an experience at a Rhodolite ball, but you were doomed to suffer the disdainful glares of the nobles around you, forever being abandoned or left in… less than comfortable situations.

You recalled your last ball, in which Clavis had been your escort, and being ditched next to an unenthused Prince Chevalier until he disappeared for the evening as well. The memory sparked your curiosity and you scanned the room for the brutal beast. Through all of the splendor, you failed to see his platinum blond hair, and try as though you might, you felt no ice coursing through your veins which was the definitive sign of the Prince’s presence. ‘I wonder if he’s in his private library at this hour,’ you pondered, your eyes coming to rest on the open door that led to the balcony. You had almost decided to slip outside to escape when an unmistakable hiss blew a chill into your ear.

“You look ridiculous here by yourself.”

“Prince Chevalier!” you gasped in surprise, unable to conceal your shock before he saw it. You turned your head to the side, catching his smirk in the corner of your eye. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“You fool no one, simpleton.” he practically purred into your ear and your cheeks flushed a deep red. You had been caught. “Why were you looking for me?”

“I-” you spluttered. The heat of his body against your back was a stark contrast to the frigidity piercing your very core; the mixing of the two sensations created a frightfully delectable tightness in the pit of your stomach. You took a deep breath to calm your erratic heart and answered him without looking at him. “My escort found himself a better date, and I knew you wouldn’t be dancing either, so I could at least pass the time with company.”

“That was very foolish of him.” Prince Chevalier jeered, his hands finding your hips and clamping down on them roughly. Your breath hitched in your throat as the brutal beast’s paws locked you in place. “He should not have left you on your own. He of all people should know that beasts lurk in this room.” you could feel his wicked smile trained on the back of your head and your heart threatened to escape your ribcage, but it was not fear that surrounded every one of your senses; it was excitement. You felt like a rod in a lightning storm, bracing for the hit that would send you flying. But all too soon, the Prince’s grip on you disappeared and the heat on your back was gone. You reeled, lightheaded from the sudden shift, and turned around to see Prince Chevalier turning away from you.

“Prince Cheva-” you began to call to him, but he whirled around on his toes and put a finger to his lips, his cobalt eyes sending a telepathic warning. You closed your mouth immediately and looked at him with question marks in your eyes. He seemed to answer you as he turned back around and headed for, not the door out of the ballroom, but the door to the balcony you had been staring at so longingly before he had approached you. You watched him striding through the noble women and their dance partners with ease. It was as though they each parted around him the second they felt his presence. You marveled at his graceful form until he disappeared onto the balcony. Once he was out of sight, you snapped back to reality and looked for the closest route to follow him.

Your presence did not garner the same terrified respect, and you struggled to cross the dance floor. Heavy dress skirts knocked into you and irritated royals glared down at you as you scurried between them. Normally you would not have gone to this much trouble, but you felt an unexplainable sense of urgency in following Prince Chevalier. You had to follow him. Though he had said not a word, you were certain he was beckoning you to do so, and who were you to refuse the white tiger? At long last, you stood in front of the open balcony doors, and for the first time since Chevalier had walked away from you, you questioned yourself. ‘This feels awfully like a trap.’ you thought to yourself, and as you mused on it, a heavy realization rolled through your body in waves.

‘I don't care.’

Your heart raced in your chest and deafened you. ‘I don’t care if it’s a trap or not, I want to be with him. I want to follow him.’ You thought about what that meant for you; perhaps you were nothing more than a fool, like Chevalier said. If you were willing to walk into a trap just to be close to him, how smart could you truly be? You tried your best to take heed of these thoughts, knowing you should listen. But however logical your reasoning, the ache in your heart and in the pit of your stomach was stronger, so you forced your foot across the threshold and surrendered yourself to the fate that awaited you by the beast you so desired. Not long after you had stepped into the quiet evening did the patio doors slam behind you and you were greeted with a frostbitten foreboding creeping up your spine.

“You should have stayed inside, little rabbit.” Chevalier hummed, his hands coming to rest on the banister on either side of yours. He was caging you in until you were unable to escape in either direction.

“Why is that?” you sounded far more breathless than you had intended to and Chevalier chuckled, although you could have sworn for a moment that it had sounded more like a growl.

You felt his breath on your ear and your eyes closed involuntarily, a sigh escaping your lips. “Because you have followed a tiger into its den.” he replied, nibbling hungrily on your earlobe.

“Prince Chevalier!” you gasped, rather shocked at his sudden forwardness. He started to pull away and you realized what you had done. ‘No!’ you thought, and let your head fall back against his shoulder, praying it wasn’t an even bigger mistake than your first.

A rumble swept through Chevalier’s body and his arms found your waist instinctively. “You truly are quite the fool, simpleton.” he snarled before clamping his teeth down on the newly exposed skin of your neck. You yelped in surprise but continued to push against him, wanting more of his hot skin on yours. A moan emanated from your throat as he sucked and bit at the sensitive area behind your ear and down your spine. No sooner had the sound rung into the night did a gloved hand clap itself over your mouth.

“Mmph!”

“Shhhh..” Chevalier cooed in your ear softly as he reached down to grip your jaw and tilt your chin far enough up to see his cold gaze. “If anyone hears you out here with the brutal beast you will regret it. Don’t make me warn you again.” You didn’t care what anyone thought of you, but you sensed that he wouldn’t move on until you agreed. So you nodded quickly and he released your jaw, instead turning his attention to the layers of bustle in your skirt. You felt him sorting through them from behind you and bit your lip, heat pooling in your core at the thought of what might be to come. “Damn it all,” he muttered softly. He had not yet reached your legs, so you began gathering the material in your hands before hiking it all the way up. He grunted in approval and grabbed a fistful of fabric in the very back and ducked under it.

“Mmmf!” you bit your lip, desperate to not make too much noise as the prince untied your garters and slid his hands, open-palmed, up your legs at a torturously slow pace. You whined as his fingertips reached the open seam in your drawers and one of his digits slipped effortlessly between your already damp folds. He pushed your drawers above your buttocks with his other hand and pressed a kiss to one side before you felt his teeth sink into your sensitive skin. You tightened around the finger inside of you and he responded with a come-hither motion that made the stars spin above you. Just as your mouth dropped open and you were close to calling Chevalier’s name, the patio door handle creaked and you froze where you stood, eyes locked on the handle. Chevalier paused as well, sensing the change in you.

Thankfully, whoever had been about to open the door must have changed their minds, because the handle remained unmoving and the night became still once again. You sighed, allowing your shoulders to relax, before leaning against the banister in front of you. With a sweep of your skirt, Chevalier reappeared next to you, an almost indiscernible smirk adorning his lips. You blushed and looked away from him, but he was not letting you off so easily, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Had all you can take, simpleton?” he challenged.

Your blush deepened but you knew that if you were to ever have Prince Chevalier again, you would have to reply fast. “Not even close, Your Highness.” you remarked, as solidly as you were able with your legs threatening to give out any second.

“Then prepare yourself for when the beast attacks next.” he grinned sinfully.

“And when might that be?” you asked, but he merely scoffed and turned away from you.

“Why would I tell you that?” he replied as he opened the doors and sauntered back inside.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince chevalier #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #chevalier fanfic #chevalier smut #smut #teasing #beauty and her beast

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erensrag · 3 years

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bimbo!reader x judgmental nerd eren

eren x y/n (wc: 3173)

warnings: nswf, slut shaming, slight dubious consent

i don’t think i did this correctly….

"no please, take your time. it's not like we've been here for hours." eren's sharp voice brings you out of your thoughts.

his piercing gaze is right there to meet yours when you finally stop staring at the wall. you chew on your pencil, quickly diverting your attention to the paper in front of you. you've done your best to avoid looking at him the majority of the time you've been here.

it's not your fault you can't look into his eyes for longer than a second. he's the one who's always observing you with that cold, calculating stare. you've been on the end of judgmental looks and not so quiet whispers for years now and have learned to not let them bother you—well you thought you mastered the art of simply ignoring those kinds of people. until eren.

you didn't even know he existed until a few weeks ago. the introduction for you two consisted of a simple bumping into each other in the crowded hallways of school, it ended with him bitterly muttering something about idiot cheerleaders as he stumbled away. not even sparing you a second glance. after that, you saw him often and he made his dislike for you evidently clear.

which makes no sense. how can someone not like you?

it's usually jealous girls giving you the stink eye and making up the ridiculous rumors. they're the ones who don't want to associate themselves with you. not nerdy nobodies who can't walk without stumbling over their own two feet. no, people like him usually worship the ground you walk on. or at least drool a little.

seriously you've tried everything to get rid of that menacing stare and frigid tone he always greets you with. it's like he's immune. "jesus y/n, how dumb are you?"

and they definitely don't talk to you like that. you know you're not the brightest, which is why your teacher got this jerk of a nerd to tutor you right before exam week but is that really an excuse for him to treat you like this? biting the inside of your cheek, you nudge a corner of your sweater until your left shoulder is exposed. leaning forward and batting your eyelashes which gets no response from him other than a blank stare. "i'm not dumb. i just don't get it." you pout. "can't you just tell me the answer? we've spent like thirty minutes on this question."

"thirty minutes cause you're an idiot." he mutters more to himself.

"i'm trying my best!"

"you should've learned this months ago. you would've if you didn't spend your time skipping class to hang out with your pig muscle boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend..." you go back to chewing on the pencil.

"so you just make out with any guy behind the bleachers?"

"you seem to know a lot about me." you look at him again, that stupid cold stare looking back at you through those glasses.

"who doesn't. you're y/n. the whole school knows of your...activities."

"those are just rumors." some of them are. most are true. you enjoy living life to the fullest. it's not your fault the people in your school saw a confident, attractive woman and instantly decided to put less than appealing labels on her. "and besides they're none of your business."

"whatever. just solve this, this is taking longer than our usual sessions and my mom will be home soon."

you groan, looking down at the textbooks and not understanding a single word. “please just tell me the answers.” you ask one last time, desperate.

“no.”

you huff, returning your attention to the book. “you’re going to age badly with all that scowling you do. just so you know.”

“shut up.”

"eren..." you say after five minutes which causes a frustrated sigh to leave his lips. "do you have an issue with me?" it's been four sessions of the frigid tension he always puts between you two and there's a lot more to come before graduation so you just want to get whatever problems he has with you out of the way.

it takes a few seconds before he's looking up from the textbook, pushing his glasses up as he sends you probably the most intimidating glare you've seen from him. "excuse me?" the very tone of his voice has goosebumps forming on your skin but you force yourself to stand your ground. you're not going to let some loser who's probably never even kissed someone to look down on you.

"you— you just seem to—"

"i don't have an issue with you y/n." he slams the book on the table causing you to jump. "having an issue with someone like you would imply i care enough and trust me i'll never care for such a ditzy little slut who doesn't respect herself."

you've been called worse than that and usually by scorned boys you hooked up with. but they were popular gym rats, not some overconfident lanky freak. you had a snarky reply on the tip of your tongue but with the cogs in your brain suddenly malfunctioning, you could only stutter out a pathetic, "i—i'm none of those things!"

"really?" he scoffs, actually getting up and walking over and as he does you think maybe it would've been a safer option to just keep your mouth shut. "wide doe eyes without nothing behind them. check." he starts. "plump lips perfect for what you do best. check." and the asshole has the nerve to slowly swipe his fingers across your bottom lip.

you should stand up, tell him to go to hell and get out of here but you're frozen. limbs not moving an inch as he continues, "empty little head. check. skimpy outfits to attract attention. check. i mean let's face the facts.."

you never would've thought the loser that always sits in the back of the class with his nose buried deep in a book would speak like this to you. it's insulting. freaking degrading. he knows nothing about you and yet he has that expression on his face like he does. "if i'm such a ditzy little slut as you so nicely put then i'd be jumping at the chance to hook up with you but here we are." you seethe.

that seems to finally strike a nerve as he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. you cut him off before he can defend himself.

"is that it...you're angry i haven't made a move on you because that's what sluts do isn't it? bone everything they see? is your pride wounded that i don't see you in that way, eren?" you let out a mirthless laugh. "well news flash, pretty girls like me don't go for freaks like you."

you got up, ready to grab your things and run out all while trying to ignore the nerves inside of you. he just stands there, rigid and glaring. "really?" he asks once your books are back in your bag.

"y—yes. now if you'll excuse me—" your wrist is being grabbed before you can take another step and for a second both of you are stunned, you mostly frozen in your spot because this creep has the audacity to touch you after everything he just said. you don't know what his excuse is but he only stands there like a shocked puppy before pushing you on the desk.

a gasp escapes your lips at being manhandled by him of all people, what the fuck is he doing? you're on your stomach, feet on the ground as the fucker puts a hand on your back, keeping you there. "w-what are you doing?" you pant out, bewildered at everything that just happened.

"i..." he trails off, not saying anything before manhandling you again. only this time it's for you to lay on your back and fuck, you could fight back. he's surprisingly strong for such a lanky freak but you're a cheerleader who does complex moves out on the field almost every day. you could kick him off, slam that big textbook in his face to the point his nose breaks and run out, making sure to report him.

but you don't. it's not that you can't. for some reason, you just don't want to. maybe it's curiosity, to see what exactly he plans on doing. to see if a loser like him actually has the balls to do anything but back away and apologize profusely.

"you're not fighting back." he simply says, sounding a bit confused as he comes to lean over your body. his hands on either side of your head as he stares down, those stupid piercing eyes staring down at you. "why?"

"shouldn't i be the one asking the questions here? like why the fuck you have me on this desk?"

he raises an eyebrow, leaning back and grabbing your thighs causing you to squeal in surprise. he spreads them, raising the dress you’re wearing until it's pooling at your stomach before you can even blink.

shit. what's wrong with him?

what's wrong with you? you should be kicking at him, you could easily shove him off. you could do it in a blink of an eye so why the hell aren't you.

where there's supposed to be fear...there's only anticipation. "you really are a slut." he laughs cruelly, pulling your panties down until they're completely off. where he throws them, you don't know. probably in some corner to hide so you forget about them, who knows what a pervert like him would do with it?

"you barely know me and yet...look at this." you shudder as his finger circles your clit before swiping across your cunt, bringing his hand up to show you your slick as if for emphasis.

"shut up." you grit through your teeth. "you're—" you don't have time to finish your insult before he's kneeling down, tongue immediately latching onto your clit.

your nails instantly scrape against the desk, shuddering as he begins to suckle on your clit. his tongue delves into you, fingers digging into your thighs on purpose as if the freak wants to hurt you. you can play that game too if he wants, fingers going to grab at the strands of his dark hair, pulling as you ground your hips against his annoyingly experienced tongue.

usually, your sexual partners don't willingly choose to eat you out but here is he. practically eager to get to business. he acted so high and mighty and still has the gall to continue doing so yet he's the one on his knees right now. freaking nerds are so easy. even overly judgmental ones with sharp gazes.

he’s basically lapping at you, moving from sucking your clit to eagerly drinking up your juices. never coming up for air as if he was made to simply do this. "f—fuck." you didn't want to make any noises, any implications that what he's doing is actually making you feel good but dammit it's hard when a tongue is diving deep into your most sensitive parts.

a particular bite has you instantly bringing your legs together but he quickly grabs them, forcing them apart to shove his face in between your thighs again. your breath catches in your throat as he licks up your dripping pussy. he doesn’t relent even once and the moans won’t stop escaping your lips, “sl—slow down. gonna…dammit.”

his tongue licks…freaking everywhere. the obscene noises causing you to hang your head back, he’s licking and sucking everything up as if it’s his favorite meal.

and it’s embarrassing. how fast you come. but how can not you? you mercilessly pull at his hair and shamelessly moan when you do. somehow you're the sweating and panting one as he stands up. "so that's what all the hype is about?" he tsk, seemingly bored.

it takes a few seconds for you to find the breath to say “don't act like you didn't enjoy that, with the way you were eagerly—”

"shut up." he takes his glasses off, putting them to the side before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him.

"you're disgusting, you know? the nerve you have—"

"i spent the last two hours teaching you simple biology and somehow you couldn't do one question by yourself, if i'm testy that's all on you.

"it's not my fault." it comes out as a whine and you hate it, you were supposed to be insulting him. at least have some pride when you're about to be fucked by the guy who looks at you like you're nothing but a dirty piece of gum.

"shut up, for crying out loud. shut up." his voice is raspy as he unbuckles the belt to his revolting khakis.

you can't help as your eyes widen once his cock is in view. for such a nerd, he's actually packing. one hand holds your hips as the other guides his dick towards your leaking area and slight panic starts to take over. "a-aren't you gonna prep?" as orgasmic as that oral job was, you doubt just that will be enough to prepare you for that.

he grins, probably the first smile you've ever seen on his annoyingly handsome face. "don't worry, i'm sure a slut like you has a loose enough cunt."

"you little shit! that's—" your words get caught in your throat, back arching as he moves his hips forward, piercing inside of you. "fuck."

a broken sound leaves your lips as he continues to push his length in. it doesn't hurt like you expected it to but there's still a strong ache that you know will leave you limping tomorrow morning. it burns, burns so good you have to squeeze your eyes shut. you need something to hold onto as he starts to move, anything to give you some sort of balance but the flat surface underneath you offers no help. "ngh...eren..." you're not sure what you want to say but he doesn't give you time to think of something before he sets a rhythm.

it's surprisingly slow at first, like he wants you to feel every vein on his cock and you do. your walls desperately clench around him as you bite on your bottom lip, the room suddenly feeling too hot as his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. into that stupid gaze he won't stop staring at you with. his mouth is slightly open but no sound comes out. he's perfectly collected and you hate it. people like him should be cumming the second you touch them but he's...it's annoying.

his pace starts to speed up—he doesn't even give it another second before he's ramming inside of you. holding your hips with both hands as he sets a brutal pace that has you moving up and down the desk. "p-pretty decent for a nerd—ah!"

still, he stays silent. ugh, what's wrong with him? you bring your arm up to your mouth, muffling the moans spilling out of your lips in spite but his hands are immediately pulling them off. he chuckles, coming close enough that his breath fans against your face and a lewd moan comes out of you as he hits an even deeper spot. "don't do that, we all know this is what you want. to be fucked hard and fast to the point you're nothing but a mindless whore whose only purpose is to scream in pleasure."

you don't respond, biting down hard on your lips. his thrusts became more aggressive as he scoffs, "fine." his hand finds its way to your throat, squeezing slightly.

you suck in a shuddering breath just as his hold tightens, bordering on dangerous but for some reason the lack of air only makes your pussy throb, clenching tight around him. why does it feel good? why does everything he's doing to you only make you want more? his thrusts have now gotten erratic, almost forcing your body off the desk but the hold on your hips and throat keep you right where you are. you want to let out the moan clawing out from inside your throat but his grip stays, merciless as he pounds into you.

you don't know how much of this you can take, everything feels too hot. it's too much. "fuck look at you, didn't think you could look even more dumb." he pants, staring down. he finally removes his hand from your throat and you cry out the second he does.

"eren, please i'm—fuck...too much, it's too much." you gasp even though a sick part of you knows you could do this all night.

but right now...with the way his voice is dripping with cockiness— you hate it, hate the way he looks at you and talks to you. it's infuriating and too much. a tsk comes out of his mouth, "who knew you had a limit?" he rolls his eyes and in the next second, he's spilling inside of you. spilling and spilling until some drip on the floor.

like he's been holding himself back all this time.

fuck. he could've at least let you release a second time. you didn't think the asshole would be finishing right after you said that. you're panting, eyes staring at the white ceiling as he pulls out. he zips up his stupid ugly looking khakis as he steps back. "can you get off my desk now?"

the nerve of him...ugh. you slowly sit up, dress sticking to your skin due to the sweat and you have to refrain from asking to use his shower before leaving.

he gets you your bag and you slowly take it, throat aching and dry. there'll definitely be bruises around your throat and hips tomorrow and you're sure he's secretly delighted at that fact. "uh...." you trail off.

this is usually the part where they ask for your number, pleading for a second night with that desperate look in their eyes but he doesn't even send you another glance as he gathers up the papers on the desk, putting them into a binder. "make sure to study before sleeping tonight...if your body can handle that." his lips slightly curve up at that last part but he's not bragging, no just mocking you.

"o...okay." you lick your dry lips, suddenly needing a mint. "uh...bye?" you stand up too fast, cursing at yourself for it but his arm is around your hips before you can fall.

you bite the inside of your cheek, the proximity too close even though he was just inside of you a minute ago. he sighs, "do you need a ride home?" he asks grudgingly.

and you should say no. you don't need to be in an enclosed space with this asswipe for another second. just say no and walk into class the next day, demanding for another tutor. and then you'll never have to talk to him ever again.

but instead a weak nod comes out.

#eren x y/n #eren x you #eren x reader #attack on titan fic #eren jeager x reader #eren smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger

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michimichim · 3 years

Text

in fall & bloom | doyeon

disclaimer: top!fem reader x bottom!doyeon, mention of blood.

your shouts of glee resonate through the bustling streets of the city, pedestrians barely catching glimpse of your zooming figures. the autumn breeze is welcoming against your face, the sunlight warm on your skin as you veer the wheels of your bike onto the next street. your eyes occasionally gaze up at the bleeding tangerine sky through the palm branches without crashing into cars, or worse, have you and your passenger tumbling down the descending street.

“wait!” the latter suddenly yelps into your ear. you press the bike to a stop, both feet coming down to graze the gravel, then to finally land firm on the ground.

“you okay?” you ask when the bike’s stabilized, craning your neck to give doyeon a curious gaze just to find her eyeing the small dip laying a few feet away down the street. there's a pretty blush dusting her cheeks, chestnut hair outlining her forehead and even, darker lashes when her eyes glide back to yours in a form of uncertainty. she's wearing green contacts today, further accentuating her piercing gaze along with the dipping sun highlighting streaks of orange and yellow on her features.

“no way we’re going down that path.” she answers, a tone of incredulity in her voice.

“what?” your brows shoot up as you slightly look back at the road – it is a bit steep, but not dangerously so. you turn back to doyeon. “why not?”

doyeon’s eyes squint back at you, fully glaring, face scrunched – most likely wondering how insane you must truly be. but the endearing and dopey smile you offer back is enough to melt her rigid posture.

“they’ll kill you if i die.” is what she ends up saying instead. the light wind sweeps lightly through her hair, conveying the lulling scent of cotton candy and peach perfume.

you laugh, playfully bumping back into her. “wimp.”

“i’m sorry, is my death a joke to you?” she whispers menacingly into your ear, hooking her index through the belt loops of your jeans.

“hilarious, even.” you tease, tilting your head back to pucker your lips. “kiss.”

“no.” she deadpans, encircling your waist. “first, get me down that road in one piece.” you snort at that, “we can just walk our way down, yeonnie. i was kidding.”

“no, i somehow trust you with this.” she gags out, reluctantly. “why do i trust you?” she mutters right after.

“that’s rich, coming from an arsonist.” you muse, sounding utterly contented, a sharp contradiction to doyeon's allegation.

“shut up,” she starts and you just know she’s about to read you. you furtively feign a roll of your eyes, yet, an infatuated smile stays on the edge of your lips. you'll never tell her, but there’s nothing more attractive than when she gets like this. “–told me you would come and pick me up for a walk, not a bike ride. and unless you have short-term mem–” she stops. “stop staring at my lips.”

you laugh, sheepish, then avert your gaze back to the road ahead. “i'm getting my kiss once i drop you off.”

“if i'm still alive.” she says, hooking her chin on your shoulder.

you whine about her being a pessimist bitch and she lightly, though discreetly presses her lips against your jaw. “kidding.” she singsongs, squeezing your mid.

so you kick off once again. aside from the air being squeezed out of you, you make it down safe and sound. you cycle the both of you through lush paths, to open green fields and watch butterflies fly above, occasionally slowing down the pace of the bike to take it all in. with the scintilla feeling of just the two of you on a bike — blissful with the speed, with the fresh wind in your faces – you’re at home.

doyeon leans the side of her head against your back, letting her eyes take in the beautiful scenery that nature brings. it was nice being able to hold onto you like so, not a care in the world whether she’ll wake up to her name trending on social platforms, or worse, being questioned about her affectionate nature. south korea still has its outdated ideologies, teaching her to enjoy the beauty of whatever it is you’ve started, drawing as much as she can from the light and secretive touches.

unlike her, you no longer seem to focus on the picturesque surroundings. doyeon's hands start having a mind of their own, palms flat on your abdomen, they brush with each movement of your legs on the pedals – and she wastes no time noticing. it's a position she very much enjoys. her eager hands begin to venture areas they’ve never had before. she skims her way up and down your stomach, smiling to herself when she senses you tense. they map their way lower, to the button of your jeans, and without warning, slide up under your sweater. your heart nearly burst from your chest.

the noise that escapes from your throat is a mix of a choke and guttural sound. “christ, doyeon!” you breathe, scandalized. “we’ll fucking crash!”

the frigid feel of her fingers on your skin almost swerves you off the damn bike.

she only laughs, kissing the back of your neck in an apologetic gesture. she resists the urge to tease for the remainder of the ride, only cooing and every so often – she can’t help herself. she’d caress the area over your ribcage, feeling your heart jump beneath the dainty sweater. you can always excuse it as the intensive exercise you have so willingly put yourself through.

you park the bicycle in front of doyeon’s building and lean slightly forward so your elbows rest onto the handlebar. except doyeon doesn’t budge, she stays put, only shifting to press herself further against you.

“you need to keep your hands to yourself, ma’am.” you reproach with a shake of your head, glancing around to make sure no one, especially from her company, is sighting you. “we really could’ve died, and it would’ve been your fault.”

needless to say, that’s no news to you; doyeon has always been quite blasé towards prudence and authority matters. she has a flair for rebellion, not so much that she wants to go against the grain, but she sustains an innate drive towards doing so, and that includes the blatant flirting she would put on at random times.

“but i can’t keep my hands to myself,” she titters and you feel the vibration all throughout your body. you look back at her with narrowed eyes, and she leans her head comfortably against your shoulder, freely gazing at you through long lashes, a smoldering smile on her pouty lips. “plus, i believe i owe you a kiss.”

there's a shout down the street as kids chase after each other, loaded backpacks swinging and feet banging against the gravel.

“i believe you do, yes.” you concur, squeezing her arms that are still wrapped around your mid. “too much people, though.”

and that’s how she ends up dragging you up to her dorms, barely leaving you time to shut the door close behind you – her lips are on yours. thankfully, no one’s home, or at least in the living room because there’s no scientific reason you could come up with to explain why you’re lip locking with one of korea’s favorite girls.

by some miracle, she manages to maneuver you down the hall and into her room, all the while remaining busy giggling and kissing on each other. you throw yourself on her bed, and she ensues, settling down beside you. your feet dangle off the bed as you both lay horizontally – it’s a comical sight that she makes sure to point out.

you're getting progressively mindful of the warmth in your lower belly, the tingling feeling somewhere in your stomach when you engage her into another kiss. the kiss is wet and slow, experimentally tasting the apricot balm coating her plump lips as you leave the sweetest of promises on them. you tentatively stroke her thighs and in turn, her hands resume its trail under your sweater, across your abdomen in a series of affectionate caresses.

you make certain to be slow and considerate as always. after all, this is the farthest you’ve gone. there's only been kissing so far, nothing more, not even touching. you figured if doyeon is ready, she’ll initiate it. which is exactly what’s happening when she leans slightly over you to unbutton your jeans.

“hey,” you whisper against luscious lips, now swollen and tender, while tenderly cradling her jaw into your palm. “no pressure, okay?”

doyeon stills under your earnest look and runs a hand through her locks, pearly teeth toying with her bottom lip. “i know. i just – i need this.” there isn't so much as a slight hint of uncertainty when the reply escapes her lips. more of an emphatic assertion.

you gently push her back down to hover her body, slowly peppering her neck with kisses and tiny licks. doyeon pushes the rear of your head forward, urging for more, however, you take as much time as necessary. your kisses become unbearably slow, irritating her while also lighting up every nerve and muscle within her body. each wet path your tongue leaves further drenches her panties.

you rise back to her mouth, gradually driving her insane with the laid-back, sluggish brush of your tongue on her lips all without fully pressing them. you tease, altering the angle of your head each time she'd drive forward to capture your lips. without much warning, doyeon’s teeth are sinking into your lip, biting harder when you take her sensitive nipple between the spaces of your fingers.

a dainty spill of blood streams down your lip, further startling you when she soothes over the texture with her tongue, gaze darkening as she stares directly into your hooded eyes. “stop fucking with me.” she hisses.

“and since when are you so fucking demanding?” you moan, there’s no denying how turned on and heated the little backtalk makes you. she grinds her hips against yours as your lips crash into hers in a searing fiery kiss. your hands cup her face, both of your tongues rolling, playing and sliding against each other. she’s sucking and biting at your bottom lip, tongue thrusting forward. you close your lips around it and suck with an appreciative moan. god, you could eat her right then.

in the midst, your hands roam over her breasts, fingers pulling her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. she breaks the kiss to throw her head back and gasps as you pinch and pull harder at them.

“oh fuck.” with that, she’s once again snaking her hands up your shirt, feeling over your warm skin and bunching the fabric up for you to take off. you grab the hem and slide it off you while the rest slowly comes off in the middle of feverish kisses and explorative touches.

you take to straddle her hips, admiring the pale skin of her tight abdomen with a rapacious curiosity. you gently fondle her pert breasts into your hands, pondering whether to tear the bra keeping you from making skin-to-skin contact. compelling, but an attempt at it will cost you your head – so you contempt yourself by sneaking them underneath the band, relishing in the pretty little sounds rippling out through her lips.

“you like that, don’t you?” you purr out quietly, rubbing your thumbs over the aching, hard peak against your hand.

“harder.” she mewls, torso arching and pushing just to feel more of that pain mixing in with pleasure.

you lean down, a dark glint in your eyes as you bite and tug at her bra’s fabric, she grows wetter at the sight and feel of your warm breath ghosting on her nipples. she wraps her legs around your mid to cage you in, her hand tangling into your hair when you bite down onto her nub. she's letting out a soft cry when your tongue pokes at the tip before sucking the nub into your mouth, pulling on the flesh and grazing the surface, just enough to leave reddened markings on the flesh.

“ooh–” she gasps, breath labored, gripping tightly into your hair as you give the same treatment to the other pair, rolling the tender flesh between your fingers. you're positioned much lower so you rise slightly back up her body so your cores are touching and snap your hips down against hers. it turns her world upside down; everything tingles from her head to her toes as you repeat the motion over and over again.

you lean up to peck her lips, setting an accommodating pace for you both that has doyeon rising up to meet each grind.

she watches you with unfiltered lust; hands coasting down your face, to your shoulders and arms for a few moments, then cupping around the back of your neck and back down to squeeze your breast. she truly cannot keep her hands off of you. “i want it from behind.” there’s always been something impressive, fervent, in the classic simplicity and directness that is doyeon. it still catches you off guard, agape and sputtering. you stop.

with the majority of your thoughts gone, head clouded with wanton pleasure, you’re unsure of what you exactly heard; you ask again, throat closing around the words. “from behind?”

doyeon's brow quirk in a form of amusement, seeming lucid enough to poke fun at you, but still far from collected. the column of her neck is flushed red, eyes low and glazed – she’s beyond gorgeous. “i don’t have a strap, but your fingers will do,” she shoots you a coy look. “so, fuck me from behind.”

you blink slowly. “alright.” you say, heart clenching in what could only be a mix of amazement, lust, anticipation and anything that can match up a synonym in the dictionary. "roll over for me.”

and she does just that, not before unclasping her bra. it falls down her shapely shoulders, exposing her tiny breasts that your mouth begs to take back in. she gets on all fours, back arching and head craning back to stare you down, challenge in her gaze. “better do your best.”

goose bumps break all over her body as you seize her by the shape of her waist, almost taking her up on the challenge. unfortunately, there was only so much you can leave on doyeon’s body. as much as you want to taint her body red with unique markings, she has an image to maintain so it’ll simply have to wait.

you pull her panties down the gracious curve of her ass, leaving it to slip softly down her thighs then off her legs. your hands caress the silky, supple skin appreciatively, tracing over the dip of her waist to the back of her thighs. you give each of her ass cheeks a hard slap, heart pounding with each moan of hers – you’d think she’s used to this.

"come onnn," she whines, pressing back against you.

"relax." you hum, stroking your hand up and down the long of her back, relishing in the way it freely glides. you gently nudge her knees apart and kneel down behind her. the slight bit of slickness trickling down her lips prompts you to give her a few long strokes of your index, doyeon moans and arches her back further down as the same finger gives hot pleasure within her.

“you’re so pretty.” you compliment, fully admiring all esoteric aspects of her body like a tulip about to bloom – the ones who shimmer in the afternoon and reaches to glow of sunshine- as you start licking between her folds, taking your sweet time to lap every drop of her slick melting down her center. you mouth along her swollen clit through the poetic pleasure rolling into every part of her body, spiking in every nerve ending.

you bury your face farther amid the girl’s puffy folds, licking with passion in your movement, your hands gripping her thighs as you lap away at her hole, occasionally reaching up to flicker across her clit and fling her whole body in a mass of spasm.

your sleeked fingertips gradually begin prodding her entrance, easily sliding between the folds, remaining slow and cautious as to not hurt her. doyeon's nails dig into the comforter, unfamiliar pain lightly shooting up her core and spine.

“you alright?” you ask; there is a tiny waver in your voice, concern and apologetic.

“i-” she sucks air through her teeth, “yeah. keep going.”

reluctant, but complying, you extract your index to replace with your thumb. you hope this helps to start small and later on, prep her to take more. she pants softly, eyes teary and unfocused as her body attempts to choose whether she wants to rock back into your hand, stay rooted at the feeling of being stretched or flee from the unfamiliar pain that’s snaking down her thighs.

you thumb through her opening with consoling words along soothing circles of your hand on her lower back. it diverts her from the pain and creeping pleasure probing inside of her. you extend the process, her gradual whines climbing in octaves when she’d try jerking away from a certain spot being brushed by your inquisitive finger. you'd have to grab her by the elegant curve of the waist, pull her back and keep her in place.

it's just a matter of time before she’s past dripping, pleading and moaning for more. hips inclined back, accentuating the fluid lines of her back; she's crying in nothing but divine ecstasy as you switch back to your index. you draw it out until just the tip is in, then plunge it back in her wet tightness. needless to say, she doesn’t simply see the stars but the cosmos in all its entirety before her eyes.

reiteration of strangled sounds and gasps spill from her lips when you start steadily pumping in and out. she tries stifling them by shoving her head down in the covers, not because she wants to be discreet but rather her embarrassment in hearing those sounds coming from herself – they're melodic, symphonic even, to your ears.

it's something doyeon finds herself loving – the feeling of being handled and taken care of. the knowledge that she can easily be reduced to a messy state if you so desired (as one would expect, you’d have to work for it). doyeon's thighs shake with more thrusts of your fingers reaching deep – and she takes it all, with great difficulty, but it’s a start. her eyes flutter closed as the thick stretch that your fingers amply provide, turn into blissful pleasure to bring her closer to her release.

"how about another?" you ask over the high pitched whines. "can you do that?"

"i don–" you swipe your thumb over her clit and her breath catches in her throat before going back to ball the sheets into her hand. you encourage her with a squeeze on her thigh. "yes, yes."

you add your middle finger, cursing at how tight she is, her spasmic muscles start clenching around you. that's all it takes.

in less than a second, your digits are coated in juices and sleek is sliding down her legs as you easily coax her into a slow, staggering orgasm. she bucks her hips up with one last startled moan and you look on, smug, gently twisting your fingers through the slight burn of her orgasm until she slumps down on her stomach with a silent scream.

#kpop smut #gg smut #doyeon smut #weki meki smut #wlw #gxg smut #sub kpop

158 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 3 years

Text

Out With the Old. Yan Childe x Reader [COMM]

Warnings: Brief mentions of injury and blood, typical yandere undertones. Word count: 3.2k. Notes: i absolutely loved writing this!! i never realized how badly i needed a yandere childe that’s so obviously whipped for his darling. :’))

“Dearest [First],

I can only imagine the look that must be on your face as you read this. Don’t be too harsh on me for saying so, but I promise not a day goes by where I haven’t thought of you. Now stop scowling at the letter, it won’t do any good, after all; it’s just a piece of paper. I’d hate to come back home to see that you’ve aged from all that frowning at parchment.

Somedays I wake and fail to notice I’m in Inazuma instead of Snezhnaya. The scenery has its differences, of course, but it’s only when I realize I can’t see you that it truly sinks in. Writing this, I realize your judgment about my honesty only appearing in written form rather than in person is true. You’ve always had a penchant for keeping me in line, haven’t you?

Not that I can blame you.

You’ll be relieved to hear that the reason for my being here turned out to be a simple misunderstanding. There’s no grand coup d'état waiting to unfold amongst the lower ranks, so, unfortunately for me, it turned out to be a waste of time. On the bright side, that means I’ll get to come back home all the faster.

Tonia tells me that you’re doing well and I’m glad to hear it. I know your parents aren’t that fond of me, which is a smart call all things considered, but I hope they’re both in good health. Let me know if they need any help with their shop and I’ll see what I can do. Just don’t let them know it was from me, or they might blow a gasket.

When I come home, I wonder if I’ll see your face among the crowd on the pier this time.

At the very least… consider not discarding this letter like the others. Really, I can’t tell who is more stubborn, me or you.

-Yours eternally, Tartaglia”

This is the first letter of his that you’ve bothered reading in some time, as he made a point of mentioning. It’s difficult to identify the exact feelings his handwriting and characteristic word choice inflicts upon you, ranging from relief to exasperation. He has some audacity, refusing to see you in person for months on end, only to carry on as if nothing happened between you.

With the letter in hand, your mind wanders back, hoping to find some hints of where it all went wrong.

You remember the words said to you on that late, fateful winter evening. The confident timbre of his voice then still resonates in your head at random, never muffling despite the years that have passed, ringing as clearly as a bell. Does he ever think about it? It’s hard to say.

“One day,” Ajax, or Tartaglia as he claimed his new identity to be, had told you, “I’m going to conquer this world.”

His breath materialized in front of him as white, vaporous wisps. There’s something about that particularly frigid season that felt like magic, more so than the Cryo Vision wrapped snug around your neck. You bit back a scathing remark and instead focused your energy elsewhere. Your gloved hand raised and hovered just above his split lip, a prominent frown etched onto your face at the fresh wound. Likely the first of many to come, you lamented.

Your Vision pulsated with life and light blue shone through at your command. The tender, bruised flesh on his lip began to close, before it faded away altogether. Tartaglia raised his hand to gently touch where it had been, now nothing but a faint memory.

With that out of the way, you placed your hands onto your hips and gave him a stern look. “I wish you’d stop saying things like that. It’s going to get you into trouble one day.”

He laughed and waved off your concern.

“If only. Things have been so dull lately, I wouldn’t mind stirring up a little trouble.” Tartaglia hummed, much to your displeasure. It was no secret in your quaint hometown of Morepesok that this boy had been spiraling down a dangerous path. Your parents said as much and even encouraged you to break off ties with him. This just won’t do, you thought.

“Ouch!”

You flicked his forehead and offered up your most intimidating glare. “So you are capable of feeling pain, huh? Good. If it keeps you out of fights, then I won’t heal you anymore.”

Tartaglia rubbed the spot and smiled sheepishly.

“You say that, but I’m sure you’d change your mind if I came to you all bloodied and battered. You’re just that kind of person.” When he paused to reflect, you raised an eyebrow and challenged him.

“Now what’s this? I’m what kind of person, Ajax?” You pinched his cheek, much to his vocal displeasure, mischief gleaming in your eyes. “Say it loud and clear this time.”

“The kind that always looks out for others, even those who don’t deserve it.”

Your arms fell limp by your side. At that moment, your heart twisted in a way it never had before. It could only compare to how it felt when Ajax had stumbled back home after missing for three, long days. You weren’t sure if you had heard him right — his eyes widened as did yours like he felt equally surprised — and he rushed to save himself. The flush that dusted over his face was most certainly not from the cold weather.

Tartaglia shot up and made way for the door at a record speed. “I told my old man that I’d be home before dark. He already worries about me enough as is, so... I’ll be on my way. See ya around.”

Your rebuttal was slow as your tongue felt frozen. Tartaglia waved to you over his shoulder and took off, leaving you to wallow in your muddled thoughts. What exactly had he meant by that? Why did his gaze soften and his usually boisterous voice drop in volume?

Questions flooded your mind, questions that wouldn’t be answered for years to come.

ii.

You’ve always found this area of Morepesok to be serene. There’s no buzz of the community gathering, chattering about the latest gossip and notable news, no vendors vying for people passing by to purchase their fresh early morning catch. The surroundings are nothing but peaceful, and most importantly, silent. In the summer, there’d only have been the sound of the rushing rivers that are now frozen over and humming insects.

Twigs and dry leaves crunch behind the tree stump you’re hanging out at, signaling an approaching figure.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Tartaglia sits down next to you, blades of grass rustling against him as he did so. You don’t bother to look up, instead feigning interest in your fingernails, staring at them intently. Anywhere other than his face, which most likely than not would be boasting his trademark grin. Seeing the fake expression that he plasters on daily would only add fuel to the fire that rages inside.

Your lips part after an uncomfortable silence settles in, the atmosphere growing tenser by the second. “So you’re a Harbinger now, huh?”

“You don’t look impressed like everyone else,” He notes, his language notably more tentative than usual. It strikes through your heart, piercing flesh and blood, your fingers curling painfully tight. If he notices, he decides not to comment. Tartaglia gives you the time to process your overwhelming thoughts as if it’d make any of this easier on you.

“How could I possibly be happy about that?” You snap your head, catching how he’s momentarily caught off guard before it’s covered up just as fast. “This… this is going to be the death of you, Ajax. And Archons, the worst part is, I know me saying that won’t matter in the slightest. That death would just be the result of a fulfilling fight to you.”

Your breathing grows erratic, to the point you’re forced to stop speaking to regain yourself. He doesn’t dare utter a single word — uncharacteristically silent — watching your every movement with calculating precision. It’s taking all your strength to keep yourself together, not wanting to come undone in front of him, feeling weak just for showing this much. This is why you were hoping to avoid him, but figures he’d go out of to seek you out.

“And if I don’t die? Would that make a difference in how you feel?” He challenges, tilting his head, voice dipping in volume. “You can be honest with me, [First]. It’s not just that you’re upset about. No, there’s something else.”

He knows you too well and it’s beyond frustrating. Your body language might be difficult for others to read, but not Tartaglia, who picks up on every little nuance with ease.

Your lower lip trembles. “I hate that this is what you’ve become.”

“So that’s it then,” Tartaglia nods his head, once, coming to terms with it as soon as the words left your lips; like he already knew it all along. “I figured as much, but to hear you say it… haven’t you heard of mincing your words before?”

Hugging your knees to your chest, you internally plead with yourself not to let the nonchalant words get to you. It’s his way of dealing with strife to act unbothered, you know this, and still, it strikes deep. What if this isn’t a façade, but who he really is now? That boy you knew and grew up with — Ajax, your dearest friend — he may be physically sitting next to you, but his soul is gone. Whatever happened in those hellish three days changed him forever. Now his flesh and bones are nothing but a vessel urged on by bloodlust.

How ironic, you think. That your Vision lets you heal physical wounds, but not the unseen kind, which runs deeper than any gash could hope to. Maybe you were a fool for thinking you could fix him, revert him to how he used to be like nothing ever happened. Or maybe he let you try just to earn more time together for whatever twisted reason. Knowing that once reality settles in, you’ll go someplace far out of his reach, where he can never get you back. Sitting here, you realize that it won’t just be you losing him. He’ll also be losing you.

Is that why he is sticking around? To prolong the inevitable?

“When I look into your eyes,” you clear your tightening throat, not willing to let yourself cry. “There’s… there’s no light, no humanity, and you know it. That has to be why you chase all those stupid fights, all so that you can feel alive again.”

Tartaglia allows you the room to ramble without interruption, your venomous feelings that have long festered gushing out. When you work up the courage to look up, you find Tartaglia frowning, staring far off but at nothing in particular. So even he can sometimes be rendered to a loss for words, huh?

He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, the chilly air invading his lungs. “You’re wrong about one thing.”

Another cautious pause. He’s giving this a lot of thought.

“My fighting is not for the sole sake of the adrenaline rush, as enjoyable as that is,” he scratches the back of his neck and forces a laugh. “It’s so that I can get stronger. I told you, didn’t I? That I intend on conquering the world. To do that, I need to be the strongest, or else I can’t fulfill my promise.”

Your lips part, eyebrows furrowing together in irritation, but he places a finger to your lips before you can tear into him. The leather feels cool against your skin, and it’s just now that you realize how close he is to you. Having been so absorbed in your emotions, you failed to notice his stealthy movements, the two of you now shoulder to shoulder. Your heart thrums, reminiscent of that day ages ago.

“When the entire world lays defeated at my feet, what I want is to have you by my side. Until that dream of mine comes true, I’m afraid I’ll have to continue making you sad, but know that it’s for a reason.”

Tartaglia pulls his hand back, his finger lingering just a second over your bottom lip, finally allowing you to speak your piece.

You’re drawn like a moth to a flame to his lifeless eyes, which have seen more bloodshed in the past few months than you could ever fathom. Murmuring, you find it within yourself to respond, albeit so quietly he has to cant forward to hear. “If you accomplish just that… who’s to say I’d want to be by your side? The side of a killer?”

“Hm? Did I ever say you had a choice in the matter?” Tartaglia returns your inquiry with a bold one of his own, one that sends you recoiling in astonishment. He lets the words settle like fresh snow on the ground before laughing them off. You cross your arms over your chest, making your displeasure over his comment evident.

“Please, I’m kidding! Don’t look at me like that,” he puts his hands up in mock defense. “Ah, it’s suddenly feeling colder than usual. You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you? I never thought that humble [First], the child of the town’s apothecary at that, would be so bold as to freeze me to death.”

Your nose wrinkles up and you hold back a laugh, swatting at his shoulder. “Yeah, right. Like I could ever stand a chance against you in battle.”

“You might be surprised! I could make a warrior out of you yet. Think about it, Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa saw fit to bestow a Vision upon you, didn’t she?” He accents his words by pointing to your neck, where you prefer to keep your Vision. Subconsciously, your hand raises, delicately touching the icy gem.

“I’m not like you,” you shake your head at his jest. “Hurting others is the last thing I’d ever want to do, trust me.”

He hums, your words taking him back, memories flashing in his mind. “I know, that’s why I’ve always done it in your stead.”

“Whoever would’ve thought fending off bored kids with a wooden sword would escalate into you climbing the ranks of the Fatui.” Had it not been for the final part of the sentence, you would’ve found it endearing to reminiscence back to your early childhood together. Still, the frost around your heart melts at the sweet memory, despite your attempts to keep it hardened. This goes to show how much I cherished it, you muse.

Lips curling into a smile, you take him by surprise and lay your head onto his shoulder. His muscles go tense, body unresponsive to the affection you used to bestow upon him in heaps. It’d been so long that he forgot the warmth you radiate like you were the sun incarnate. He had once commented that he expected a Cryo user to be cold, only to be delightfully surprised by how warm you were.

“Maybe I was always terrible, and you just didn’t notice?” He proposes, to which you snort.

“That most certainly is not the case. I’m a better judge of character than that.” You scoff at the mere idea. No, little Ajax had been nothing but a darling, there’s no doubting it. Wherever you’d go, he’d follow as if his life depended on it. There was hardly ever a time where the two of you wouldn’t be seen paired together.

“You’ll get no argument out of me there,” Tartaglia rests his head on top of yours like he used to. The circumstances have undoubtedly changed, but it’s nice to feign ignorance for a few minutes. “Say, you remember when we used to sneak off and meet here, right?”

“How could I forget?”

Tartaglia nods his head in agreement. “I was always dragging you into trouble, even then. I’m not one to dwell on the past, but I guess it’s hard not to when we’re here.”

Now that he mentions it, it wasn’t an immediate shift into his now unhinged personality; like all things, it began as a gradual descent. You should’ve noticed something was awry with how frequently he’d come to you, boasting injuries of all sorts. Each was accompanied by a rehearsed explanation as not to alarm you. Unfortunately for him, in a small town such as this, word travels quickly. It was inevitable that you’d find out the bitter truth behind his wounds.

Maybe you always knew but didn’t want to face reality.

“There was this one time in particular that always stuck out to me,” he closes his eyes, reflecting. “When I said I intended to marry you when we got older, or whenever you’d have me.”

You’re amazed at how Tartaglia recounts it without so much as stuttering, the humiliating memory sending your head spinning. There were so many memories he could’ve mentioned and that’s the one he decides to go with? You’re certain he’s messing with you at this point.

“I-I thought we swore never to mention that again!” You exclaim, blood rushing to your cheeks.

He blinks when you abruptly lift your head and shrugs off your concern. “I don’t remember ever agreeing to that. It was you who kept insisting to take a vow of silence on it, for whatever reason. Personally, I find it cute, you were so eager to accept my proposal then.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This irksome teasing quality had reared its head alongside his other new shortcomings. The best way to deal with it, you’ve learned, is to keep the conversation going. Dwelling on it for too long never ends well.

“So, Liyue, huh?” You recall the gossip from the marketplace earlier. Some locals were fussing over the news that the Fatui’s latest Harbinger, Tartaglia, would be sent abroad for more work. There were murmurs of excitement over how a child from this seaside town managed to make it so far up the ranks. And to think they used to bemoan Ajax’s violent streak, you remember. Now that it’s beneficial to them, they sure have changed their tune.

“I wonder what it’ll be like,” he muses. “Anthon seems to think the people there eat rocks, for whatever reason.”

“Kids always say the craziest things unprompted.”

He seems agreeable to that statement. Neither of you utters another word for some time, instead thinking of both the past and the future. It’s not a comfortable position to remain seated in, yet neither you nor he complains about it. For a few brief, glorious seconds, everything almost seems normal again.

“Hey, [First].”

You hum in response. Tartaglia’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, his eyebrows knitting together in contemplation. In the silence that follows, you swear you hear a sound akin to electricity crackling, the hairs on the back of your neck standing from the drastic shift in atmosphere.

“I meant what I said. Someday, you will be by my side. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll make it happen; even if you come to hate me.”

“Because once you make a promise… you keep it.”

And he intended to do just that.

#childe #yandere childe x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia #yandere tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff #commissions

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unpaidoscorpintern · 3 years

Text

IN THE HAUNTS OF GOBLIN MEN

pairing: Norman Osborn/f!Reader; Green Goblin/f!Reader; set-up for Harry Osborn/f!Reader

rating: 18+

words: 2300

content warning: older man/younger woman; power imbalance; a short scene featuring manhandling, but I have no idea what to tag that as

CHAPTER ONE: THE PENTHOUSE

Even now, in the heated seat of his limousine, your spine still shivers at the memory.

The penthouse was never not cold. It had empty rooms, too much open space, and far too many cameras, so there was always an eye welcoming you inside, chilling you, but never a pair of lips to greet you, to warm you up. Every move you made was monitored, every minute of your day accounted for, and every aspect of your life dictated by the arguably most powerful man in New York City, and certainly the most important man in your life: Norman Osborn.

And upon the pedestal that you had raised for him, he stood, to be feared and worshiped. Until last night.

Last night, the power went out and the penthouse had never been colder. The alarm, piercing through the stillness and the silence of yet another lonely night, whipped at your flesh like a winter wind. Startled, you jumped off like a spring off of the queen-sized bed and went in blind search of your smartphone. But, since it had been plugged into life support just a second before, it was dying in your hands now. In the dim light of the lock screen, his disembodied voice disapproved of your lack of care for his expensive gifts. Then, as the tone changed, it began teaching you about the emergency exit, the control panel next to it, and the backup generator it connected to.

Sure enough, as you followed this flashback, you soon found the neon sign above the door, a guide on your journey across the hall and through the darkness. It was from that same darkness that a shadow stepped forward, cutting you off and turning the temperature down in the entire penthouse, and freezing you on that spot. You couldn’t even blink as it raised its clawed appendage and struck the control panel with a bolt of lightning. As your ears enjoyed the silence and your eyes adjusted to the neon green light, that shadow began to materialize into a man, the actual most powerful man in the city, and the debatably most important man in your life: the Green Goblin.

Even now, even as his warm hands feel you up under your sweater, your chin trembles at the memory.

You heard him suck in all the night air just as you stopped breathing altogether. "Good evening," he huffed, words like weights he was hurling off of his lungs. "Hope you don’t mind me letting myself in."

It was only after he straightened his back, spine snapping and throat tightening, that your ears stopped ringing and your eyes got a second’s rest. Standing up at his full height, sounded like a painful process. And, as the morning light and Norman's scrutinizing stare would come to reveal, it had been more painful than you'd imagined: he’d been bleeding his way across the balcony and down this very hall. None of this was conveyed through countenance, however, the mask molding onto his face in a maniacal smile. Under the green light of the EXIT sign he was blocking, that sneer seemed to stretch and, as it moved from side to side, the recognizably human heaving of a man was drowned out by the strange sound of a monster snapping its own neck.

When the frigid feeling of fear melted by the scorch of your survival instinct, your lungs started working again, and so did your legs. But that still wasn’t enough to save yourself. Even with added adrenaline flowing freely through every fiber of your being, you were still slower than him. As you were about to round the corner where a camera had once blinked its red at you, a pair of paws pulls you back

Even now, even as his hot breath washes over your neck, your thighs quake at the memory.

He tackled you with as much tact as a wounded animal like him could, suppressing your shrieks with a large leather-bound hard over your mouth and a solid, scale-patterned arm around your middle. While he did save your back from breaking, pressing it against his powerful chest as the both of you came crashing down, you still felt the impact the fall had on his own back. But you should've known better than to assume a broken bone or two would make him loosen his hold on you, no matter how deeply your manicure dented his armor.

And, while you struggled above him, your still intact spine curling against his chest, he coughed out a cackle: "Save your screams, princess. Nobody else is making it up this tower. Not even a spider." The sensation of his pointy silicone nose nudging the prominent pulsing vein in your neck and the playful pitch coming from his tired throat lured out a prey animal from a primordial pit. "Unless it’s me you're making all those pretty little noises for."

"Are you going to scream for me?" Norman Osborn demands a direct answer, two fingers knuckle deep inside you.

"Please," you muffle a moan in his free, dry hand, the hand you're not soaking between your twitching thighs. "Please, sir."

He pulled out both fingers before pushing them back in, all for the feeling of the wet walls narrowing and sealing them in.

Even now, even with your back against Norman Osborn’s chest, your mind still marinates in the memory of the Green Goblin.

Had his own fingers moved away from your middle and traveled further down, they would've ended up finding you wet and wanting, deep in those drenched granny panties, under those worn-out pajama pants. If he found you pretty in those frumpy old clothes, then he'd find you radiant in the afterglow. And all he had to do was play with that perked-up nub, press it with the pad of his thumb while he tattooed his fangs into your throat. You were close.

"Are you close?" Norman Osborn asked rhetorically, the sound of it a seismic rumble in his chest and against your spine. He knows your body better than you do, he knew that a tight circle or two around with his thumb around your clitoris was all that it took. "Answer me."

"Y-y-yes," you warbled, wetter than you could ever remember being. "So close."

"Scream," he pressed his teeth against your throat, the promise of penetration. "Scream for me."

Even now, after the knock-out gas has worn off, your body is still soaking in the memory.

Had the Green Goblin kept you up last night, you surely would've screamed for him. But, he hadn't, so, you didn't. You were put under a sleeping spell instead, that took the light of day to break. That, and the men contracted to clear the chemical from your lungs, along with any traces of trespassing.

The penthouse security system had been compromised and he didn't trust anyone, not even the police, to investigate the scene of the crime. The arguably most powerful man in the city, cowered in front of Green Goblin, the actual most powerful man, and his NYPD connections. He'd let him have all the bandages and antibiotics he trashed the bathroom cabinets for. He'll even let him keep his secret identity, even as his DNA had been leaking all over his luxurious furnishing. All that mattered was that nothing of his was stolen. Not even a scream.

“Scream for me.”

And now, as Osborn insists on your clitoris with a punishing press, you finally forget all about the Goblin.

When your spine stiffens, it takes the shape of a bow, arching away from him. But he wouldn't let you get too far away, his hand like a noose around your neck while his other hand was holding back the flood. You are free to be as loud as your lungs allowed on this side of his black-tinted car windows, but your convulsing cunt can't make a mess of his dress pants.

“All for me.”

Your skirt, however, can collect a few stains and a couple of wrinkles. After all, he's got his men packing your closet, and there’s a duffle bag with your essentials and change of clothes on the seat next to his. You can get on your knees, between his own now, and catch his cum as it comes cascading down.

"That's it," he grunts while you clean his cock, your. Thoroughly. With your tongue. "That's my girl," he sighs, satisfied to see you swallow it all. Finally, he falls back into his seat, his sleepless eyes hiding behind his led-heavy lids. “Good girl.”

This good girl gets to rest her tired, troubled head on his thigh for the rest of the ride, with him cleaning her face with perfumed wet wipes and combing her disheveled hair with his freshly disinfected fingers. And, when the limousine begins its ascent in the leveled parking lot, this girl knows her stop is coming up. As always, you will have to use the elevator, avert your eyes and pretend you got your own car parked there as you start your journey on foot towards OsCorp Tower.

“Call me when you're done with your afternoon classes. The boys should have everything unpacked by then, but I’ll be coming with you to make sure you’re all settled in.” He clears his voice as the limousine slows to a stop and starts scheduling the rest of your day for you. “You should freshen up first. Ask the girls downstairs to call the girls upstairs about access to the gym facilities. I'll be upstairs greenlighting this by the time you arrive.” Then, he unlocks your dying phone and starts tapping away through several of your apps. “You should take better care of your gifts,” he looks down on you, and you dread every second of his disapproving stare. “I was going to transfer next month's allowance, but that’ll have to wait until I’m in my office. Make sure to charge your phone in the locker room. I need you to keep me updated throughout the day. I need to know that you’re safe.”

“Yes, sir,” you lower your head as you raise the rest of your body. “Forgive me, sir.”

“You are forgiven,” he kisses the crown of your bowed head. “Hurry up now,” he hands you the duffle bag and a roll of dollar bills to stuff into the side pocket. “Cab fare. You’re already running late.”

Even now, as Norman Osborn is making arrangements for you to settle down in a new suite, your mind is all over the place.

It’s no wonder you put your whole academic career, your future professional life, and your own wellbeing into his hands again. You've done it once before, at the end of your summer internship, when he came to you with a different type of business proposal and a pair of callous, but capable hands for you to lay your future in. If you had to make a different choice, you know you'd turn it down and make the same mistake: you'd choose to lay your body in Norman Osborn's bed all over again. It’s no wonder. Your mind had already been cracked before the Green Goblin had a chance to scramble it.

⁂

"Morning, ladies," you smile at the OsCorp receptionists, but it most likely looks as strained and stiff to them as it feels to you. "I know I'm running late, but-"

"Our lips are sealed," one of them relaxes her rehearsed smile and gives you a look of recognition. Then, as the hair on the back of your neck rises and your face drops, she leans in over her desk and whispers. "I mean it. If the last female intern left standing got marked tardy, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. This is a man’s world and us girls gotta stick together."

“Lizzie, you’re scaring the poor thing.” The other receptionist, Laura, doesn’t rise from her chair, but she does roll over to you. “If Mr. Osborn won’t let Parker go, then he won’t chase her off for clocking in late. Once. Besides, the king's been in the castle for all of five minutes, so there’s still time for you to brew his coffee and have it on his desk by 10. Go ahead and swipe the card, sweetie.”

"About that," you lean in. "I've been talking with Mr. Os-" you stutter yourself to a stop. "Mr. Osborn’s secretary. You girls know Jean, my supervisor, right? Yeah, so we were talking about my key card. It doesn't grant me access to the gym, does it? We, she told me to tell you to-"

"Get you a shiny new one?" Laura looked at it in passing before pushing herself back in her place. “Let me give her a call. It should only take a minute.”

Lizzie smiles, sincerely, and is back to whispering. "First, an ESU scholarship, and now access to all OsCorp full-time employee facilities? Someone's moving up."

You roll back your shoulders, ready to relax under a hot shower stream. “Girl power, am I right?”

Lizzie starts laughing before cutting herself off at the sound of the sliding doors. “Laura! Laura, look!”

"I'm on the phone-" The woman launches herself out of her chair as soon as she spots whoever those doors are sliding doors. "Why did nobody tell me the exiled prince has returned?"

“Ask Jeanie, not me.” The other woman whispered one last time before raising her voice. "Welcome back, Mr. Osborn.”

“How was Paris?"

“They don't have any parking spaces there either, so it was like I never left town,” a voice you’ve come to know by the end of the summer, but have been missing since the start of the fall quarter, answered them. And, as you turn towards the sound of it, you spot the source. “Hey, noobie.”

“Harry?”

#norman osborn #norman osborn x reader #green goblin #green goblin x reader #harry osborn #the first part of my self-serving self-indulgent supervillain soap opera #yay?

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widowsofchaos · 3 years

Text

ill wind

summary: A drunken one-night stand takes a turn. pairings: dark!Wanda x black!reader x dark!Natasha warnings: (malevolent advantage of alcohol consumption, power manipulation, dub non-con/smut) I hope ya’ll enjoy! <3 ao3 a/n: Written for @that-damn-girl ‘s PRIDE challenge. Chose a scenario prompt “drunken one night stand” with my two of my fav marvel women. Many apologies for being rusty at my writing! Beta: by the beautiful @imanuglywombat Thank you, Laura for being such a great friend & for proof-reading! Thank you for the amazing commentary, you’ve been such a huge help on this fic! Xoxo psa: I had to repost this story again due to the original post being reported by tumblr for adult content, so here it is once again! Also, a big thanks to everyone liking this fic, I didn’t realize it would be a fan favorite until I kept getting tagged by other writers’ answering asks of readers asking about it! It means a lot, thank you!!

do not repost my works!

A surge of throbbing pain hits your head.

Somber shades of yellow and white marinate into a dewy flourish; trying to break through your fluttering lids. Three hearts beating under smooth silk sheets, limbs entangled, a blooming migraine bestows your crown.

A cheeky god who’s shit-eating grin is flashing before your squinting eyes, you huffed. Serves me right, I guess, you mulled. The rowdy tyke biting more than she can chew.

Your hooded eyes sharply scan the bedroom, realization hits like a freight train – this isn’t your room. It’s familiar to memory, your mouth curves into a frown, you rub your eyes roughly. Trying to clear your vision, studying your surroundings thoroughly. Powering through blurry perception, your senses are a bit irregular, groggy.

You attempt to twist your body, metal clanks against the skin of your back. Nerves frigid at the slender-shaped leather sensation, your breathing is shallow, your brain is driving into overdrive, grasping at the assumption that it’s a belt; the horizontal form, and the shape of metal is a big clue of it’s identification.

The slick leather sliding against the nape of your back, traveling against the slope of your lower spine, regarding the patterns of the buckle that grazed against your ass.

Peering out of your blurry haze, your moist skin recognizes the flood of body heat.

Overwhelmed by your flush state, your crown shifts down and you almost choke on your spit and you almost choke on your spit. On your right, lying peacefully on her back is the Slovakian witch herself, Wanda. On your left, her face half-smooshed in the pillow, the Russian beauty herself, Natasha.

Anxiety rolls off of you in waves. Naked, and satiated with pouty sleepy lips – yourself bare as the day you were born. Arm draped gracefully over her face, the twinkle of a glimmering rock adorning Wanda’s left palm mockingly winks at you.

Whining very lowly, you leisurely twist your head to face Nat, curled near her head was another shiny rock snickering at you. “Fuck.” You cringe. Biting the bullet, you navigate through the migraine, bent elbows dig into the mattress, lifting your head up, weak fingers grip the sheets to cover your indecency.

On the floor, spews of clothes are scattered – your Alice Cooper shirt, your lace black thong, your denim shorts, your strapless bra – along with other familiar articles of clothing. A red string thong, a pair of high-waisted blue panties, a black button clad blouse, a leather skirt, – it was an Armageddon of fabric.

As your brain fizzles to calculate your escape, a featherlight fingertip grazes and tickles your neck, you gasped at the intrusion. Your head snaps to your left, green orbs pierce through you, “Hey.”, it was sultry, yet raspy.

A twinge at your core – no, no, no – this can’t happen. Becoming a homewrecker isn’t on your bucket list. “Hey – um, I don’t fully remember–” You were stuttering, never have you lost your cool. “I – fuck.” Your eyes downcast from Natasha’s intense stare and shame seeping through your bones; a dark chuckle erupts from her.

“It’s okay.” She cuts you off, with her knuckles caressing your cheek. “No need to be worried – or scared”, a feral grin, all fangs. Your mouth gaps opened, and closed like a blubbering fish. “I’m so sorry, Nat.” A bit breathless, tears form in your eyes.

Your head running miles per hour, tongue thickened with sincerity – worried that you definitely ruined one of your best friendships.

“I shouldn’t be here.” Your fumes are running on auto-pilot. A coy flutter of her lashes, “Why are you sorry? You weren’t saying that last night.” Your chin wobbles, “Excuse me?” A devilish smirk dons her mouth, you can tell she’s entertained by your confusion.

Natasha’s calm stature, coolly lifting herself by the elbows to sit against the headboard, bare milky breasts bounce free from the blanket – it throws you for a loop.

“Whatever I said last night –” Your fidgety fingers grip your messy curls, seeking an ounce of control, “–I was drunk. I – can’t remember. I know I probably said some stupid shit.” You harshly bite your bottom lip, drawing some droplet of blood through split skin, “Not at all, miláčik.” A soft Slovakian timber looms behind you, your entire body stiffens.

French manicured nails graze your tender shoulder blade, weaving a hiss through your teeth. Crudely tracing red claw marks, a shiver crawls through your spine; Wanda stifles a chuckle. “No need to worry, Y/n.” A peck on your shoulder, you gasp, flinching a bit away from her lips.

“No, this is so wrong. I ruined everything – I – need to go.” You stutter, averting your teary gaze away from both women. Fumbling and shaky hands tugging off the sheets, embarrassment surges inside of you due to your bareness.

Covering your breasts with your arms in shame, a disappointed sigh can be heard, a whizz of mesmerizing magenta energy floats and surrounds you. Your brain becomes fuzzy – dizzy numbness infiltrates you. Brown orbs criss-cross, a force heaves on your chest, pushing your body forcefully against the mattress – an ungraceful huff escapes you.

“Oh miláčik, you’re not going anywhere.” Wanda whispers, her knuckles softly caressing your cheek. “I–” Your mouth gapes to speak but you are cut off, “Quiet.” Natasha sternly demands, trimmed brows pinch menacingly. Wanda’s slender fingers flicker hairs-away from your lips; muting you.

“Do I really need to refresh your memory? Or do you want Wanda to just show you?” Natasha pucker lips sporting a faded tint of pink – a hint of last night’s rendezvous. Something is different in their eyes now; something darker. It nerves you, a force is weighing on your chest slightly more — leaving you gasping a bit.

You nod your head in Wanda’s direction, peering through squinted glossy eyes. Wanda’s open palm waves over your face, a flared energy of fluid orchid pink and creamy white whisk in a blurry mix.

Transporting your subconscious through a tunnel of faded memories – a film reel of the past — neon rainbows of worldly splendor travel around you. Kaleidoscope splendor.

Through a murky veil, your airy presence arrives at the living area — Stark’s late night party from last night in full swing. You are befuddled yet amazed beyond belief. The scents of alcohol roars in your nostrils and the crisp clear cadence of your tipsy friends flow through your eardrums – goofing off, and chatting – you can feel the atmosphere differently on your skin.

The chilled air that flows from the open balcony imbibes your flesh, goosebumps littering your translucent skin in its wake; your breath hitches at the tingles soaring through your body.

The powerful gifts Wanda possesses never fails to impress you.

Nimble feet waltz through the hallway, reaching to the common area, it felt as if another unknown force was guiding you – searching for your past self. Assuming by this time of the party you were already impaired off your ass. Your silent steps were transparent, featherily light against the flooring; the cool sensation grazing your toes.

The cheers rising in volume, the coil of anxiety curling in the pit of your belly. Forcing yourself to cease your pace, nerves overriding. Afraid to face the truth – realization that you slipped. How easy of you fall into their bed, like a slithering snake. Tears formed at the brims of your eyes – wiping the droplets away by the back of your palms.

A push collided against your back, an ungraceful yelp escaped you as you toppled over – your entire form floating, twirling a bit. Wiggling legs falter mid-air, hovering over the ground; trying to find your bearings. A force guiding you towards the common area. The aroma of liquor tickles your nostrils and boisterous laughter rings in your ears.

Easily you found past you hanging off of Thor’s extended bicep – like a monkey climbing a damn oak tree. You attempted to face-palm yourself, but your hand went straight through your ghostly face. It was free reign to wonder about the compound.

Fascinated to just linger around, seemingly waiting for your own mistake to be replayed for you. In the corner, you see Sam and Clint chuckling like a couple of knuckle-heads at you trying to bounce off of Thor. It was odd, you felt like you were in the film Ghost.

Wandering among friends, they walk right through your invisible disembodied form. In the corner, you see Bucky and Steve smooching on the couch, stealing cheeky kisses – a bit tipsy chuckles from Thor’s ale.

Your drunken form catches your eye, incoherent words to Thor, Sam, and Clint --- most likely you’re telling them that you were gonna rest for a bit. You saw your past self flop ungracefully on the couch, your eyes wearily fluttering open and shut.

Two shadows peer upon your body and you almost choke on your own spit. Wanda and Natasha sat on both sides of you, petting your hair and caressing your cheeks. Delirious you were, you slurred a hello. You squinted darkly at Natasha’s palm – it was a flask in her grasp.

Taunting you with a shake, promising more alien ale, in exchange to ‘hang out with us’; Wanda’s fingertips grazing your temples, snickering lowly. You are frozen in your spot as if the soles of your feet grew roots planting in the flooring. Deceit. It was a simple trick dealt by your own hand, your own inebriation used against you.

For a millisecond, you feel it was your own fault – following the wolves in sheep’s clothing. Aided by the sneaky claws of Wanda, and Natasha; trolling towards the elevator. Your breathing is sharpening, choppy pants squeezed from your lungs. The walls of the living area began shaking as if an earthquake was occurring.

Your subconscious begins deteriorating piece by piece. Vibrations begin surging throughout your body and in a glimpse, you see every member of your team in a mid-frozen state.

But in a flash, you see Bucky and Steve grinning with toothy Cheshire Cat smiles – following the direction of their gaze, staring at Wanda and Natasha dragging you away. It gives you a weird uncertain vibe, making you shiver.

The walls of the compound begin to crumble upon you. Vibrations surge throughout your body, almost losing your balance on your toes. You hold onto yourself, hugging your head in your arms. An efflux of bursting colors blinds you, swirling and erupting upon you. A force pushing you through the familiar tunnel of mist.

Deafening white noise pound in your ears, as if you are breaking through the ocean surface – wheezing for air, a heavy weight crawling off your chest. The blurry veil clears, your vision sharpens to see Wanda and Natasha hovering over you, smiling like the cats that got the cream. “You tricked me,” You stammered, fuming with rage but a flailing thread of humiliation.

Wanda clicked her tongue, wagging her finger at you – scolding you like a child. “We didn’t trick you. You came willingly. Right, Nattie?” Wanda cooed to Natasha, dreamily gazing at her. Natasha hummed, “Indeed, Maxie. All we did was follow –” the tip of Natasha’s finger softly grazed Wanda’s chin upward, a slow turn back to you, “--- You lead the way.”

“I was fucking drunk. I don’t even remember shit! You took advantage of me!” You barked, green and hazy blue hues darken. Natasha’s palm grips your jaw, emanating an ow from you – a bruising touch.

“Would you like Wanda to give you a repeat of it? I must warn you –” She leaned forward, lips almost brushing yours, “–you were very loud, and wet.” Nat’s voice was laced with malice.

“No.” A muffled whine slip from puckered lips pinched between her fingers. “You know – we could just give her a demonstration.” Wanda purrs, delicate hands find your body; snagging the sheets off your body, Natasha groans at the sight of your bare breasts.

Bending forward Wanda’s pink tongue darts from her plump lips, licking long strides against your dewy skin. Starting at the navel, her tongue traveling up to the valley of your plush breasts.

Cowering thighs clench shut, “Nuh uh, none of that.” Wanda’s sing-song reprimand makes you twitch at the pit of your belly. A fiery carmine mist infiltrates the air, twirling presence swirls around your crotch, and thighs – the force snatches your legs spread eagle-wide.

“You have no clue how long we have wanted you, huh?” Natasha coos crudely as your thighs slowly lift upwards, slowly your thighs lifted upwards, your kneecaps coming to rest against your supple breasts.

“You’re soaked, miláčik.” Wanda’s body glides with smooth precision, downward like agile feline; legs dangle in the air, ankles locked. Comfortably tucked between your legs like it was her rightful reign. Inhaling your sweet tangy scent emanating from your glistening cunt, her pink tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. Long strides stroking inside your wet folds, shamelessly delving between short-fuzz mound.

“Delicious. Like a peach.” Tip of her moist tongue, twirling on your clit, “Hmph – fuck.” Your eyes fluttered to the back of your skull. Natasha licks a trail of warm saliva from your lush breast to your baring neck.

Suckling on your pulse point, you gasp a breathy groan. Teeth nip and scrape the skin ravenously, baring her fangs --- resembling her infamous Araneae emblem.

Sweet kisses to your collarbone, teeth nibble at your brown nipples, tantalizing tugging on the sensitive flesh – red nails painfully scraping into your ass cheeks, whimpers slither pathetically from your lips. Mewls from Natasha, a click of her tongue, tsking you as if you were a cat, a mere pet to play with. Your lips form into a thin line, forbidding any involuntary moans to slip.

“Twah. Don’t hold back those sweet noises, baby.” Wanda lulling you, following with a salacious bite on your inner thigh, you yelp trailing into a pathetic moan as she licks against the mark. “We had you singing like a canary last night,” Natasha speaks huskily against your cheek, nibbling a bit. “You may be restraining, trying to be quiet. But you’re just one loud girl, just like your mind.” Natasha said lowly, your dazed eyes trying to concrete.

“Loud thoughts, and vivid fantasies.” Wanda’s lips pucker to suckle throbbing clit. You grunt, Natasha pinches your nipple — earning a squeal from you. It was painfully delicious — you can’t lie — your body definitely can’t hide the fact. “There you are, darling.” Natasha’s voice drips with husky lust, a second twist.

You yelp, your head tilts back and strains against the pillow — welcoming the sting whole-heartedly. Natasha cups your breast jiggling it a bit; flicks her tongue against the erected nipple and suckles it in her entire mouth. Your whole breast devoured, you hiss, peeking through your lashes — it was sinful how her pink saliva glossed lips engulf your tit.

How her tongue lapped at your nipple with such hunger. Worships you into the cave of her mouth. Her sneaky fingers snatch the other one — twisting and twirling mercilessly between her finger-tips. It’s sloppy, filthy, and fucking dirty — and wrong. You feel as if you could pass out. The soppy slurps from Natasha and the leg-shaky clit bites from Wanda were pushing over the edge.

You push your waist up and down, riding Wanda’s tongue; for a moment you lose yourself. Her hot tongue gliding between your velvet folds, how her tongue coats in your essence.

Wanda’s soft palms glide against the curves of your thighs, her nails scraping against the flesh. You jolt as she swats against your underthighs. Harsh painful slaps, as she eats you out. The heat of the slaps is scorching in your pores, adding salt to the wound — Wanda digs nails a bit more to relish in your squirming.

“Ow.” It’s small, but it’s heard. Wanda removes her lips from your pearl, you pitifully whine — frantically, you hoist your head to glare at her. A trail of white saliva connects from her bottom lip to your clit, she twirls her tongue in a languid twirl; collecting all of it.

Licks her upper lip, like a feline just drank the dairy. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Wanda smacks your glistening cunt, a wicked snicker. You wail, it’s a tug of war for you. You don’t want to be here, getting eaten the day-lights out of you, and your tits suckled.

You need time to decompress on the fact, you had sex with two of your best friends — who are married. Who you had the biggest crushes on – but you can’t risk losing a full-fledged friendship over lust.

Two sets of slender fingers plunge inside you, snapping you out of your thoughts, as the pad of Wanda’s thumb rubs manic circle motions on your throbbing clit.

“Get out of your pretty head, miláčik.” Tears form at the brims of your eyes, shaking it no — you can’t risk losing this friendship. “Do you really think you can bypass a spy and a telepath?” Natasha’s voice was like a crackling fire, dragging you out of your conflicted thoughts.

“Did you think we wouldn’t see how you gaze at us, huh? All those thoughts swarming in there?” Her index gently taps the center of your forehead. It was difficult to fully concrete or even speak coherent words as Wanda was teasingly inserting her fingers in and out of your wet cavern; ceasing her thumb a bit.

Speechless — what could you say to that? “Worried on becoming a homewrecker?” You were stuttering a bit, you still needed space to adjust, what if this doesn’t work out, and you were stuck in the awkward middle? “I–I need some time —” Natasha’s eyes darken, refusing to accept your rejection. You didn’t even have the proper choice — you didn’t have a choice.

It was a drunken one — barely a choice filled with manipulation and trickery. “No.” She hisses, gripping your jaw, you whine lowly in your throat at her harsh grasp.

Without wavering her eyes from yours, as she steals a bruising kiss. Wanda’s eyes ignite to fiery red, hitting your sweet spot hard, and brutal. You shriek, trying to worm yourself from Wanda’s grasp — but no success. Wanda’s mist restricts and pins you against the bed, her jaw tightens and clicks.

“You can’t escape us. We want you just as bad as you want us.” Wanda’s viscous fingers split you open, squelching; not once allowing a second of adjusting. As if her powers were electric at the tips of her witchy fingers, you felt a zap inside you. Oh, how a wicked bulb lits upon her head. “I have an idea.” Wanda hums with an evil smirk, stopping her actions.

“I don’t even have to touch you to make you cum.” Wanda guides Natasha away from your aching body by the shoulder. Her slim fingers contort as she sits on her knees, red energy emits, and swirls from her hands.

Manipulating your senses, fire brewing at your nerve endings, unadulterated ecstasy brimming at the pores. Wails leave you like hymns, your lips forming into an O; eyes pinched shut as your back arches off the mattress.

Hissing through your teeth — it’s electric. Enthralling as you twitch under Wanda’s command. Jittery spasms as a coil at the pit of your belly began twirling bigger, and bigger. “She’s getting close. I can smell it on her.” Natasha whispers, her breasts heaving a bit from her chest swelling from excitement, her smug smile curling from her lips.

“I can feel her energy. It’s heavy and intoxicating.” Wanda’s head was in a haze, as she connected with your spirit, along with Natasha’s. A connection. To intertwine — but not for herself, with extra concentration, it is sizzling erotic as Natasha’s charka intertwine with Wanda’s as it chokes your inner essence.

Wanda’s fingers pinching in the air, weaving your life-force, your hips bucking into the air, as your impending orgasm is roaring — your pussy is swollen and soaking. Your soppy hole clenches and pulsates against an enigmatic fullness, Wanda exploring yet violating your cavern — touching against your moist walls, your clit throbbing and hot.

“Fuck — I — I need to c–cum!” Sputtering over your blubbering lips, a snarl rumbles in Wanda’s chest, as she hovered a bit by the knees, the power over three energies was carnal.

Natasha’s head tilts backward, her fiery hair curtaining her face, her baby-hairs sticking against her forehead from brewing sweat; pinching her nipples painfully between her fingertips, groping her breasts in the cups of her palms. “I need to feel her cunt against mine.” Her voice is hardened and desperate.

Natasha’s head snaps upward, staring directly at your sweltering face, the greenery in her pupils darken and dilate.

A growl seethes from Natasha’s wet lips, low and dangerous. Your muscles shake; pleasure engulfing your limbs, weakly trapped in this mystic force, forced to enjoy Wanda’s manipulation. Moving like rivers upon your skin, unraveling waves washing over you — suffocating, painfully sweet.

Despite Wanda taking unbridled control, ravaging your body as if she owns it, weaving pleasure from you as if she knows your body from the inside out, as if she knows every sweet-spot, and tick inside you for years — there is a layer of gentility. Impulsive, yet soft. A tender lover, a pinch to savor.

Groans, grunts, and high-pitched moans echo as corrupted sympathies and bounce against the wall pavements, ringing in your ears. Flushed cheeks, sepia skin now tinted with pinkish shades spreading throughout your body.

Bliss swelling and sealing in your limber legs, aching in the best possible way. Cattle-wails of desperation, a dribble of cum trails between your wet folds and between your cheeks hitting your puckered asshole.

Wanda’s witchy slender fingers fiddle, makeshift claws to create more pressure — releasing more telepathic vitality for Natasha and yourself to ride out your orgasms.

With a flicker of Wanda’s index finger – maneuvering to the form of a pistol – a trigger, a jolt of energy bolts at your navel. A bullet. You convulse, airy pants, your torso heaving with your thighs quaking in its tight hold.

A snap bursts within you, your eyes opening widely, translucent colors combust upon your vision — worldly satisfaction manifesting into reality. In unison, all three souls unleash guttural moans.

Wanda’s fingers tremble, sucking in breath through her teeth, her energy fading into thin air, retreating back into her palms. A sharp guttural groan spilt from Natasha, a skin-peeling frenzy; basking in the astral aura that is the Slovakian witch. Your thighs collapse down debilitating from your torso.

Almost falling like an empty sack, Natasha tries to steady her breathing, as she loses herself completely at the heightened senses of her orgasm. It was such a sight, heaving over, crooked elbows denting against the mattress — on all fours, her spine heaving upward as tremors convulsed.

Never have you ever seen Natasha lose her stature in all the years of knowing her, ever so the chilling demure nature — only in your wildest fantasies have you dreamt of Natasha torn at the seams.

At the corners of her jaw, was tinged pale pink upon a damp milky surface, with her glossy eyes, adding to the primal gaze. Zoned out, peering through her lashes, her eyes are feral. Unhinged, ready for the kill.

“Keep her legs open.” Natasha hisses, nostrils flaring. Wanda slithers away, wobbling a bit by her knee-caps. Humming with a knowing smirk at Natasha, licking her upper lip with her pink tongue – she knows what Natasha wants. “I want her mouth.” Wanda snickers, a glint of mischief at her eye. Hastening breath fans over your bare shoulder, from her button nose against your sculpted collarbone.

Choking a bit, gasping for a full breath to tame your heightened nerve endings; your mouth parted. Gulping back your dry throat.

Wanda clicks her tongue, her nimble fingers trace the lines of your lips. “Keep that mouth open, dove. I’m going to quench your thirst.” Sneaky mind-reader. Sultry thick accent spells you for a momentary lapse.

“Please, wait. Give me a momen — aggh!” A plea falling on deaf ears is strangled into a wanton cry. Your hands shake, hugging yourself against your chest, arms crossing; trying to comfort yourself.

A painful slap against your clit, over-sensitive and squirming. Heat blooming throughout your hooded clit. “I don’t think so. We’ll stop when we say, got it?” Natasha snipes.

A pregnant pause.

Smack.

“Understood?” Natasha barks again, with a vengeful clap of her hand — as if it possesses the power of a god, unmerciful; but worships you in the smooth rubs on the stinging flesh. Your lips parting into a moan, a few sniffles muffled — it’s whiny and pathetic.

“Don’t cry. We’ll make you feel good again. Don’t you want that?” Wanda’s lips hover over you, against your cheeks, her teeth slightly grazing against your skin. A bite at your inner thigh, a warning. Natasha’s more aggressive. Wild, impatient, and just savage to devour you, for you to comply with their demands.

“Yes. Just wait, I’m sensitive.” You needed a reprieve, a breather from the intense third-eye cosmic orgasm you just had a few minutes ago. “No time to waste.” Wanda perks, a soft kiss on your lips. The witch balances herself over your head, trapping your skull between her thighs. Above your lips was her peach-fuzz cunt, dripping and inviting.

A tiny voice at the back of your head informing you that this is beyond wrong, red flags and alarm bells ringing that the circumstances after this will be catastrophic.

Fingers sliding in your curls, glides open-palm against your head, “C’mon, dove. Open wide. We know you’ve dreamt of having a taste. Don’t be shy now. You weren’t last night.” Wanda’s clutch shifted into an iron grip, pain over-riding your humiliation.

“Loud, wet — very eager to please, to impress.” Natasha kept listing off how you acted in bed, closing your eyes shut in embarrassment. What if this is just a tryst? A mere game for a married couple to spice their sex life? Years worth of emotional baggage and scars begin surfacing to your murky mind. A good lay.

And when Wanda and Natasha are done with you without a second thought, using your body after a good late night and morning fuck, despite questionable undertones --- confusion.

Your body yearns for their touch, going against your better judgement; it’s best to sit down and discuss this like rational adults. Another part of you wants to claw at both of them, for lying to you. Using Thor’s ale against you to lure you to the lion’s den. What if after this, they don’t want you? A mind-game to throw you off. Fearing to lose a friendship over a momentary lapse of hot sex.

Restricting back burning tears, ‘very eager to please, to impress.’ That’s you, always ready to bend over to get people to like you — it even transcended into your sex life. Motivated by liquor and you lost yourself to lust and temptation, although these two used your drunk state against you. A humiliating sight you probably were.

“Get out of your head, miláčik.” You sigh, slowly opening your eyes. Your breath hitches, Wanda stares down at you with sympathetic hues. “We’re not going to throw you away. We’re not going anywhere.” Relenting her harsh grip, the pads of her fingers soothe the remaining ache.

“You’re ours.” Firm and demanding. Natasha spreads your weak legs open once again, positioning herself to sit interlocked with you. Natasha hums, “Don’t even think of leaving us. You know we’re capable of catching you. Chain you to the bed if we have to.” Her cunt against yours, clit to clit.

You can feel the wet slick that coated between her asscheeks, a slip n’ slide as her ass sprawled against your wet thigh. Her fingers clawing against your thigh to top it over her leg. Quaking a bit, a shiver crawls up your spine.

The insanity of it all, you just wanna hide away. “Be good, miláčik.” Wanda descends upon your face, her natural essence wafting deeply in your airways — flooding your senses. You shouldn’t be thriving off of this sex but it was hot and incredible.

Wanda comfortably situates herself as if she sits on a throne —- as if she owns you. Your protests are muffled into mumbles, as your lips wrap around her swollen snatch. Your nose nestled against her short curls, the tender skin was like silk against your palate.

A crude shift from Natasha’s waist, a strident thrust as she begins tribbing you, you are moaning against Wanda, herself shuddering as her hips sway up and down upon your cheeks.

Vulgar Russian curses heave from Wanda’s lips, high-pitched and transcending into orgasmic nirvana. Natasha is growling — slipping into Russian curses and wanton moans — taking what’s hers as she keeps riding herself on you. Sucking through your teeth, you nibble on Wanda’s clit, and tugging her slippery labia between sucked in lips.

Vociferous wails and whimpers, a cadence of sticky slick mixing from one cunt to another. A lubricant that was chafing against flesh. The lewd differences between these two women is clear as day.

Wanda is the bright sunny day and Natasha is the inky night. Soft is Wanda in shades and colors; with benevolent timbre. Amorous is Natasha but in darker tints, with a reserved mask; with raspy timbre. Both ravenous for control. The pinnacles of what many women strive to be with superior intellect, beauty, and brawns.

Being the gay bottom you are, it’s no surprise for you to be charmed by such powerful women. After many hookups with women over the years, this was the most intense and enthralling one yet.

Years of crushing on them from afar has led up to this. Fresh-faced and more enchanting than before, Wanda sighs in content and victory, as she gawks down at you from her tottering head. Her tousled tresses curtaining her cheeks, riding with more enthusiasm as your lashes flutter. With a dominant drive, Natasha’s groans as she’s close to cum.

Her wetness and yours adds to the sensation on your clit. All three bodies fumbling at bit from the brutal-pace of face-fucking and cunt riding. The headboard hits the wall a bit, matching the frenetic grinding of skin to skin.

Shedding their heroic femme skins and turning into savages. Nasty. Filthy. Corrupt. Your fingernails dredge into Wanda’s femurs, prowling skyward the sweaty region of her hips, to the toned plains of her tummy to finally the mountain peaks of bosoms.

Pinching her pink nipples between your fingers to the point of making her yelp, it was an unspoken incentive for her to ride your mouth harder. Teeth tenderly gnashing inside her pussy lips.

Ragged murmurs, clipped curses, and taunts – You like it? Yeah, you were made to be under us, withering, and shaking. You want me to cum all over your face, pretty girl? Have Natasha drown your pussy with her cum? Yeah, dove, I can feel your clit pulse against mine!

Shocked silence as your astonished eyes widen, your mouth is flooded with cum. Rendered speechless, airy gasps from Wanda and Natasha is still upon your cunt, small mewls from her, now beyond sloppy and wet; a mixture of your cum and hers. Natasha’s hips juddering against yours, riding the last of her orgasm.

“What a good dove, we have,” Natasha speaks through the thick silence. Wanda hoists herself up by the knees, as you gasp for more air — your entire mouth now glistening with her fluid.

“Yes, she’s so good. Took everything we gave her like a good girl.” Wanda coos at you, hooded lids with a sultry curve of her lashes flutter at you; jolting away as she laid back on the bed with a wheezing breath. Regaining her composure, her dainty fingertips graze against your sweaty forehead to flip curls that strayed on your eye-lids. It was intimate, too intimate — it is the touch of a lover.

Natasha releases your leg, it was a bit strained from her fingernails and tight grip. Her hands cup your tummy, kissing by the navel; as she repositions herself by your side, mimicking her wife’s action. Caressing hands on your arms, dainty fingers soothing against your breasts, and shushing your rapid breaths.

Sandwiching you between themselves, a sudden direction on your belly was taken. Both Wanda and Natasha soothe the smooth clammy skin, with curling smirks that were both devilish yet attractive.

With a silent conversation that you aren’t privy to, confused as they both looked at each other with knowing gloating stares. Wanda takes her own pillow and fluffs it between her hands, as Natasha upraises your curved hips. Once again, you’re left in the dark, thrusted back into demoralization and bewilderment.

Is this it? Now that this married couple — who you idolized, and cherished this friendship with — has had their fill, who are you to them? Words birthed during the mist of lust are empty promises most of the time. Is this friendship over? Do you even have the mental capacity to continue this friendship after this tirade?

Bone-shattering orgasm after orgasm was ripped from you, and yes, it was amazing to the core, but there was a part of you in the midst of clouded hazy sex, that you didn’t want it. To be touched, you just wanted some space to recollect and process your feelings about this entire messy ordeal. You’re not sure what you want really out of life --- especially out of a polygamorous relationship.

What does this say about Natasha and Wanda?

This was a scene contrasting their usual masks of personalities, yet it molds and blends into their psyches just accordingly. It’s terrifying.

You stiffen at the revelation, serrated images were slowly circulating around your mind like the stingers of raging wasps; the small brushes of knuckles against yours, the over-friendly back massages, the persistent need to have you in their presence at all times that was mislabeled ‘just to hang out’ and ‘we miss our best friend.’ And with your yearning affection, it was easy to follow the wolves to the den for the slaughter.

Facades of kind smiles, words of advice, late-night talks that delved into and entrusted girl nights — was something darker, something sinister boiling underneath the surface.

Palms driven with cursory attached upon your arms, gripping and digging; it is demanding. Scooping underneath your bum, open palms gripping your globes, and heaving upward so your hips are positioned in the air. Wanda grabs an extra plush pillow, and Natasha maneuvers your bottom down on the pillow.

“What are you two doing now?” You are a bit irritated – tone clipped – at your running-at-a-mile per second thoughts, and sore at the muscles.

“Hush, you’ll see.” Wanda snickers, as she plushes the pillow underneath your bum. Natasha gingerly holds you down as Wanda dashes to the nearby bedside drawer. Her open-palms caress your belly, ogling with much affection and pride.

“I can’t wait.” A soft smooch above your located uterus. Anxiety filling your veins at the unknown, you begin wiggling in Natasha’s tight hold. Wondering what in the fuck, she meant. “Relax. Let it happen.” Natasha’s words were not settling your nerves, it only makes the panic hitch.

In Wanda’s palm was a turkey-baster, filled to the brim with white sloshing liquid. Eyeing the baster with pure excitement shining in her eyes, her eyes nearly criss-cross as she inspects the foreign fluid almost oozing out of its confinement.

“Perfectly curated semen for the perfect womb.” A bulb breaks and explodes in your head — emptying your dome into nothingness — thrashing in Natasha’s lethal lock. She sighs with a disapproving shake of the head, stretching your arms into a pretzel lock against your chest; painting brown skin in splotches of lavender hand-prints.

Whilst Natasha confines your fore-arms in her restraints for hands, putting weight on your upper body into the bed; Wanda’s eyes glow with fury, once again forcing down your legs. “Relax, dove. This is what we wanted with you for so long. Don’t you want to be with us?” Wanda seethes with a crooked grin, as she leers down at your shaking body.

How she revels in your weak state under her touch. Makes her urges to fuck you with her strap and make you scream like the perfect little bitch you are. Their perfect dove.

“Why?” A watery cry, before succumbing to your fate — who are you to fight against a powerful telekinetic, and one of the world’s greatest retired assassins? The only outcome would be death.

“Because we love you. You’re the one to carry our baby. I can just —” Natasha groans, her eyes rolling back in yearning. “– imagine your belly swollen, waddling bare-foot. Breast-feeding — fuck — you’re already breath-taking, miláčik, but God, you’re going to give us heart-attacks.” Her voice drops an octave lower. Natasha leans her head lower, a kiss on the crease between your brows.

Your body shivers as you feel the chilled tip of the turkey-baster nearing your gaping hole, you begin weeping quietly.

Wanda shushes you, “It’s okay, milacik. You’re going to be a great mommy. Three mommies and two daddies. The baby will be the most beloved and protected little one.” A warm smile graces Wanda’s rosy cheeks. Three mommies? A dream of having a family now enforced upon you, this is a clusterfuck. Firstly, tricked by your own drunken state, second, pinned down for morning sex, and now you’re going to be impregnated by a fucking baster?

Wait --- two daddies?

“Two daddies? What? Wait, who’s the father?” You shrill, your head struggling to peak down at Wanda as she paused mid-way from inserting the cum; your eyes wild and glossy. Wanda chuckles, it sounds genuine — it’s anything but.

“Not just one father, miláčik. Our dutiful Captain and Sergeant.”

You feel light-headed, a hay fever flooding your dome. The tips of your ears feel hot, your head flops back down onto the pillow with a fluffy thud.

An incoherent whisper. “What was that, dove?” Natasha’s thumb rubbing your wrists, coaxing you to speak up. “How is that possible?” You wept, fresh tears coating your face.

“Anything is possible with modern enhanced technology. Now a baby can be genetically linked to two fathers. Isn’t that marvelous?” Wanda gleamed a cheeky smile, her eyes twinkling with unnerving mirth. “Why Steve and Bucky? Do they know what you’re doing?” You almost choke on a strained whine, your face scrunching up tightly.

Praying that Steve and Bucky didn’t have any involvement, nor a speck of encouragement of this insanity. “Of course, they know. We all made the plans together.” Wanda’s hand rubs your thigh to calm you but it only adds to your fright.

“Steve and Bucky are ready to settle down, they always dreamt of having kids. They love you and know you would be the perfect mother to their child. Our child. We’re all going to be one happy family.” And without any moment to spare, Wanda gently thrusts the baster inside of you, squeezing the silicone bulb firmly. You gasp as you felt every drop paint your walls white, drowning inside you.

You twitch in discomfort, your head thrashing side to side, your cheeks hitting the wrinkled sheets. Mutely screaming, teeth gnashing at the air, refusing to accept the inevitable. Natasha peppers your face with kisses to calm you down.

Whispering declarations of love, you restrain any more tears to escape. Wanda cups your belly, it was very subtly swelled from the massive load. “Look how much went inside, Nattie.” Wanda alleviating your distress by small circular motions.

Natasha halts her kisses. She titters a bit, “Well, I’m not surprised. Two enhanced soldiers will deliver a copious amount of cum.” Natasha joins in on the soothing strokes by her fingers. A splotchy memory of Steve and Bucky wickedly smiling while your drunk-self was dragged away to your fate.

Betrayal.

Two people you trusted for years – who you considered close friends — played a role in this capture of enforcing a life of motherhood upon you. You didn’t realize lone tears were trickling down your face until you felt a thumb wipe away.

“Don’t fret, milacik. This will be good for you. For all of us. We know what you need.” Wanda kisses your waist and travels upward your chest in a trail of kisses; as she climbs on you, cuddling by your side, wrapping her arm around your hips, and a leg around yours.

“We’ll treat you so well. Like a queen.” Natasha loosens her grip on your arms, easing the aches in your muscles, but detaining you, to ensure you won’t escape from their grasp. Natasha plants a leg over your legs, positioning next to Wanda’s, sandwiched, and suffocating.

Laxing your body from stiffening under their touch, just trying to mindlessly drift into an impending hazy slumber. “Let’s rest. We’ll tell Bucky and Steve the good news later.” Natasha says in a lulling tone, as both women cuddle to squeeze much closer to you as if they want to reside underneath your skin — tightly, and smothering.

Sedately, your eyes close. Tentatively, their breathing morphs into your focal point, to hear Natasha’s and Wanda’s settle into steady rest. Urgently needing your privacy in sound, and body --- away from nosey intruding psychic.

As you lay there, mute and digesting the perverse treachery like a dry pill ripping down your throat, your tongue weighing heavy, barely registering reality.

Murky thoughts try to align in correction, not to bemoan over the guile that is Natasha and Wanda that was akin to pistoling barrage upon your spirit.

The soft fabric of the pudgy pillow wedged underneath you was burning against your bum, an indicia that could compel an unsought future. The tact to force maternity upon your life, your womb is now without doubt, fertilizing soldier swimmers.

What can you do now? How can you battle against the odds of the inevitable? Cuffed emotionally, and intimately by ex-friends deformed into duplicitous lovers who are now dead to you, and buried in deep, fresh graves in the crevices of your heart.

You must learn from the suffering, and brace the ugliness of being a fool. Your shudder, and bite back a sob as jagged remnants began floating behind your lids of last-night that was thick of debauched moans as slim fingers plunging into your cavern; it was a fleeting splash of excitement but it simmered and dwindled into a piercing ache in your chest.

It was euphoric, but not simply euphoric, there was fear and confusion intertwined too. For many years, you had grappled many weights of trauma, but you couldn’t stomach two damaged hearts.

Love me, love my dog — or so the saying goes. Can you handle being a mother? Are you even capable of being a good mother? You almost snort at the ridiculous notion.

What if aborti--- Jesus, you wouldn’t be able to go far with that option. It’s not even a fucking option. ‘Not with these two.’ You internally huff.

So you’ll wait. Wait it out, move in silence, map out your next course of action. Figure out escapes, leaving behind your life as an Avenger, and the only family you’ve ever had — just be quiet, comply and wait.

All you could do is wait.

#apridec1 #buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #dark natasha romanoff #dark wanda maximoff #dark natasha x reader #dark wanda x reader #dark natasha romanoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff x reader #dark marvel #scarletwidow #wlw

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justnerdthings · 3 years

Text

Frigid Heart Ch. 1

F!Reader x Bi-Han

The first chapter. I'm not sure how good it is. I'll admit that I don't know much about Bi-Han.

I'm planning this fic to start off in the 1600's and then skip to modern day. But who knows if it'll happen that way.

Title by the lovely @khadrimxart

You were tossed from the cage at the Grandmaster's feet. You were such a beauty, even if you were from a rival clan. A servant girl, but one who had impressed the Lin Kuei, who had attacked your clan. You had such fury and loyalty for your dead masters that you had managed to hold your own against several Lin Kuei assassins. That was, until Sub-Zero had shown up. The Grandmaster looked from you, then to Sub-Zero.

"Are we taking prisoners now, Sub-Zero?" He asked with a raised brow.

"This one managed to fend off a few of our assassins," Tundra answered, bringing up the rear of the group.

"Oh?" The Grandmaster looked over the group, then back to you on the ground. Lifting a foot, he wouldn't even grace you with his hand as he raised your chin to get a look at your face. He grinned at your beauty, even with your face bruised and sliced, he could see it. The Lin Kuei had use for beauties like you.

You spat at him. Bloodied saliva splattered his leg.

He sneered. "Insolence!" He hissed and kicked you in the side of the head with an armored foot. You hit the ground like dead weight, knocked out from the sharp blow. The Grandmaster looked to his group of assassins with that scowl still on his face. "Who did she defeat?" He demanded, looking to each of their faces accusingly.

"No one who is here," Smoke answered, earning him an inquisitive look. "They were weak. We dealt with them."

The Grandmaster narrowed his eyes, but didn't question it. If they couldn't cut down a simple servant woman, then they deserved to be disposed of. "And who finally captured her?"

"Sub-Zero," Cyrax answered.

"Sub-Zero." The Grandmaster turned his attention to Bi-Han. "Well done. Though, I doubt she was much of a threat to you."

Bi-Han wouldn't have admitted it even if you were. "Not at all," he confirmed. "Smoke is right. Those other assassins were weak. They're not a problem anymore."

The Grandmaster smiled with a pleased nod. He could always count on this little group to do what was necessary. But there was still the matter of this wretched thing on the ground. He looked back to your limp body. "Well, she is your prisoner, Sub-Zero. Do what you will with her…" he trailed off, curious to what Bi-Han had planned.

Bi-Han bowed his head in gratitude, but said nothing else. The Grandmaster almost frowned at being denied Bi-Han's plans, but it wasn't of importance. He brushed it off. He turned to the rest of the group. "You've all earned your rest," he said with a dismissive wave. The mission had been completed. There was nothing more to do for the moment.

You woke as cold water splashed over you. You gasped and shrieked as your body tensed in chilled shock. Your hands were chained to a stone wall, and you had been stripped naked. Unable to hide yourself, you shivered on the cold stone floor. Two older women were standing only feet away. They gave you sympathetic looks. One held a bundle of clean clothes. The other lifted a bucket as she stepped forward.

The chilled water was splashed over you again. You gave another shout as it stung your naked skin. "Stop!" You demanded.

"You will be cleansed," the bucket wielding woman told you with an air of authority. She was obviously the one in charge. The other only bowed her head.

"Let me go, you old bat!"

"Bah!" She stepped over and smacked you hard across the face. It stung worse than the Arctika water. "You are in no position to give me orders! You are a prisoner of the Lin Kuei!"

"Fuck the Lin Kuei!" You hissed. But it only got you smacked again.

"You will respect the Lin Kuei! It is because of the Lin Kuei that you have been allowed to continue breathing."

"I'd rather die than be your prisoner."

"If you keep speaking, you may get your wish," The elder woman spat. She turned and gestured to the other woman to come forward. "You will change into these clothes."

"I will run."

"Where to?" She looked back to you. "Look around. You are in the dungeon. The door to this cell is locked from the outside where two guards stand. You can not run."

"Then I will fight."

"Then you will die," the woman said. She took the clothes from the other woman, who then hurried to unlock the chains from the your wrists. Being freed, you shifted your gaze between the two. They didn't look like fighters. You might have been able to take them… but what of the guards on the other side of that door?

The clothes were thrusted into your chest. Instinctively you held them. "Change. Now," the older woman ordered impatiently.

You stood there, staring at the two. The quiet one gave you a pleading look. You unfolded the clothes, finding them to be a simple blue hanfu. You quickly slipped into it, thankful once you had. Your shivering nearly stopped as the hanfu held in some body heat. You were handed a sash and quickly secured it around your waist, keeping the clothing closed around you. A simple pair of slippers were dropped at your feet. You stepped into them, surprised that they had fit correctly.

Seeing as they were cleaning and clothing you, it seemed unlikely that they were planning to kill you. And the hanfu, while simple, was good quality… much nicer than the rags your old masters had given you. You felt out of place already.

“You will not speak unless asked to,” The older woman told you. Your brows knotted to her, but her soul piercing glare cut through you. You looked away, to the stone floor, and nodded silently. You may have been able to fend off some of the Lin Kuei, but you were no match for that stronger one that had shown up back in your village. “Good.” She sighed in some relief that you had quickly learned your place. “Did your old masters give you a name?” She asked.

You shook your head. “My parents named me. Y/N.”

The woman hesitated. “A shame.” You looked up with confusion. “It is a pretty name, but it is no longer yours,” she explained. “Your new master may wish to give you a new name.”

You jaw hardened.

“Your old life is dead. Do you hear me, girl?”

You nodded, feeling a knot grow in the pit of your stomach.

“Whatever attachment you had to your old life, has been severed.”

You nodded again.

“Now, come here,” The woman said. You turned and she gripped your arms tight. She caught your eyes with hers and frowned. “I know this is difficult, but it will be easier if you just do what you are told. The Lin Kuei are not as cruel as your old masters have led you to believe. However, the Lin Kuei are harsh in their expectations.” She gave you a small shake and straightened your posture up. “Which clan are you from?”

“The Snow Ninjas,” you answered, letting your eyes drift back down to the floor.

She caught your chin firmly and tilted your head up to make you look back to her. “Are women treated well in The Snow Ninjas clan?”

Your jaw hardened and you shook your head.

She sighed. “And yet, you have such a mouth… Be wise and watch your words. We are not treated well here either. We are servants and comfort women. Some are prized for their beauty. Those with desirable traits and abilities are often used to continue bloodlines.

Your jaw hurt as you further clenched it.

“I can see beyond those bruises and scars on your face… You have been blessed with beauty. Do everything in your power to retain it for as long as possible. Your life will be easier here if you do.” She sighed heavily and brushed a stray clinging hair behind your ear. “Do you understand?”

You nodded.

“Good. Now, let’s get you upstairs and tend to these cuts.”

As much as you hated being in the Lin Kuei’s little village, you would admit that it was rather… cozy. As the two women led you along the courtyard that you had been so unceremoniously dumped on earlier, you noticed eyes on you. Servants and Assassins alike were curious of Sub-Zero’s new slave. Apparently, he’d never agreed to have one before--not his own anyway. He was a very private man. Of course everyone was wondering why he’d decided to keep you.

You were led to a small cottage just outside the courtyard. Lily, you’d since learned the name of the older woman, opened the door which you were surprised to see was unlocked. “He is not here at the moment, but you are expected. Come,” She waved you over. You stepped into the house and froze at the sight. Apparently Sub-Zero had never learned to use a broom… How could the man live like this? Everything was strewn about. Walking through with Lily, even the small kitchen was piled with objects that did not belong. He obviously did little cooking, if at all. Lily sighed at the sight, as if this wasn’t the first time she’d seen this mess.

“This man, I swear,” she mumbled and shook her head, casting shame to the chaos. You couldn’t help but grin at her reaction. “Well, I suppose you ought to clean up a bit.” Your grin faded. You turned your head to look at her nervously. She placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “Good luck, dear. And remember what I’ve told you. And don’t be getting any ideas about running off. There is nothing around here for hundreds of miles. You’ll freeze to death before making it anywhere.”

You frowned at the idea of not being able to get to safety. “Thank you…” You watched her step away and out the door. She closed it behind her, leaving you in the strange pig-sty of a home. This would take hours to sort through.

Stars shimmered in the sky by the time Sub-Zero came home. Stepping in, he pulled his mask from his face and tossed it onto the side table—

The side table that used to be right there…

Now his mask was on the floor. He stared at it in confusion before looking up. His mess--his things… They were gone! His jaw hardened. Had he been robbed? Who would dare to rob him?!

A strange, but enticing scent wafted to his nose. It filled his house. Meat? Spices? Food? His brows knotted as he stepped further into his home. He stepped around a corner to see a woman in the kitchen. That’s when he remembered you--his new servant. His shoulders relaxed, mentally kicking himself for having forgotten about you. He watched you silently until you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye.

You froze, not sure what to say… or do. You recognized his eyes. That was the man who easily overwhelmed you back home. Of course he would be your new master... What did the Lin Kuei expect of their servants? Lily hadn’t told you many details. Were you even supposed to be cooking? You supposed you were about to find out.

He stepped towards you, eyeing you up and down for only a moment before he followed his nose to the pot in the hearth. You couldn’t read his face as he peeked inside, but he hadn’t shouted. That was good, right?

Bi-Han hadn’t ever come home to a hot meal. Of course he’d eaten hot food, usually in the palace’s dining hall where some other Lin Kuei got their meals. But never in his own home--from his own kitchen. A surprise, but an interesting one. And his home… it was spotless!

“Where are my things?” He asked slowly, almost accusingly as he straightened from the pot to look at you.

You were all kinds of tense looking into his eyes. You opened your mouth to answer, but hesitated for a second. “I… cleaned,” you said pathetically. Of course you’d cleaned. That wasn’t what he’d asked at all. “I organized…” You’d corrected yourself. “What are you looking for, Master?”

His eyes flinched hearing that last word. That would take some getting used to. “Show me,” he told you.

Your brows knotted. Show him… what? Where everything was? “Oh… Yes, Master.” You bowed your head and cautiously stepped towards the cabinets. Opening them, you showed him where all the eatery was. Another cabinet held herbs and spices. Pots and pans hung over the hearth. In the small hallway, a narrow table had an oil lamp placed on it, in its drawer were small odds and ends. The sitting room, the furniture had all been cleared off and cleaned. Bi-Han silently wondered when he had acquired a hardwood sofa. You showed him the closet, which had the broom he also hadn’t realized he’d had. Wooden boxes lined the walls, full of various things, trinkets he’d gotten on missions--treasures. Led to the bedroom, he was surprised to see his bed had been made. His dresser had been straightened out, his clean clothes folded neatly, each type having its own drawer. And his closet… The weapons and armor he’d collected over the years were neatly displayed, ready to grab at a moment’s notice. You were certainly earning your keep already.

“I apologize that I have not had time yet to tend to your laundry,” you spoke cautiously, flinching in anticipation of some sort of punishment… But it didn’t come. You relaxed as he stepped away. Your brows rose curiously. “Master?”

“You will have plenty of time tomorrow,” he said, walking out of his room and heading for the kitchen. You followed him quickly as relief washed over you. You had already planned to do his laundry tonight, but tomorrow was a welcomed idea. “What is this?” He asked, pointing to the hearth as he sat at the table.

“Nothing impressive. Again, my apologies. I only had time for a quick stew.”

Bi-Han hid his amusement. You had said it wasn’t impressive, but to him, it was. In the time since you’d been brought to his home, you had done more than he had expected. Much more. Obviously you were a skilled servant. “Is it done?” He asked.

A panic surged through you. You hurried forward. Of course. He must have been hungry. You hadn’t seen him since you were brought to the Lin Kuei. You weren’t sure if he had eaten all day. You quickly grabbed a bowl and spoon. You filled the bowl and brought it to him, bowing your head as you placed it on the table in front of him.

That may have been the best stew Bi-Han had ever tasted.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #mortal kombat fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #mk fanfic #mk fanfiction #sub-zero #bi-han #lin kuei #bi-han x reader #reader x bi-han #sub-zero x reader #reader x sub-zero #joe taslim #reader insert

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lag1995-fics · 3 years

Note

Hii. Can I request anything with pre- cult Kai and fem reader with a reader that's really happy and bubbly? It could be a fic, headcanonns, literally anything lol. I love your writing 💙💙

Of course you can love, I hope you enjoy this ❤️

Crushing

Pairing: Pre Cult Kai/ bubbly reader

Words: 1506

Warnings: POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️⚠️⚠️ This will contain sexual harassment and assault it isn’t graphic but some may feel uncomfy, this fic also features heavy language

Summary: Kai and Reader have both had crushes on each other but have consistently brushed their feelings off they both felt the other was simply unattainable. A bad experience ends up bringing them together.

Masterlist

///::::///

You had always been a bubbly person, the type that usually had a grin spread across her face. You had the biggest crush on your friend Winter’s older brother. You were one hundred percent positive that you were not his type. He was sarcastic and a little mean at times, you were an absolute giggle box who always had a kind word and a smile for almost everyone.

What you didn’t know, was that you were not the only person with a crush. Kai had been mesmerized by the way you floated through life like you had a bubble to protect you from all the grubby thorns that were society. You never caught him but he would stare at you when you came to visit Winter. The entire family loved you actually and Kai’s father would often tease him about you when you were out of the room.

You never expected anything to come out of your silly little crush and neither did Kai for that matter. He had actually put you up on a bit of an unfounded pedestal in his own mind. You were too pure for anyone himself included. He didn’t want to see anyone crush your spirit it was something he loved about you.

Kai couldn’t control the world though, and the world was a dark miserable place that was full of dark miserable people. You were someone who was remarkable though, you seemed untouched by the dark miserable world in his mind. The darkness of the world affects everyone sometimes though and it did eventually catch up to you.

***

You had been walking home from work in the rain, face tilted to sky as the soft drops of water tickled your skin. You hadn’t noticed the strange customer who had been watching you at the coffee shop where you worked. You also hadn’t noticed him follow you out of the shop too busy watching your bright yellow converse splash happily in the puddles on the grubby side walk.

It hadn’t taken him long to act when you had turned onto a fairly deserted road. He had caught up to you and began to walk in step with you. Red flags went up immediately in your head but you as always held out hope that maybe this person was just being friendly.

“Hey baby girl,” his tone was slippery and disgusting. You couldn’t help the trill of fear that went down your spine.

“Hey, please don’t call me that,” you muttered, probably more politely than you should have.

“Oh so you’re a frigid bitch that can’t take a fuckin compliment!” His tone had shifted from slick to intimidating in the span of a few seconds. This man was everything your mother had taught you to fear. You also wished you had started carrying personal protection like Winter had suggested, weapons made you uncomfy though.

“Excuse me I need to get home people are waiting for me” you babbled picking up your pace to try and put distance between himself and you. Before you got very far his large hand reached out wrapping around your forearm with a bruising tightness. You yelped, reaching into your pocket with your free hand to hit your emergency dial.

“I wasn’t done talkin to you bitch don’t think I didn’t notice you ignoring me at the stupid little coffee shop” your fear level was almost maxed out now and you could faintly hear Winter screaming in your pocket from where you had emergency dialed her.

“Please I don’t want any trouble, I haven’t done anything to you,” you tried to reason with the mad man. Before the man could utter another word a car screeched to a halt in the middle of the street.

Kai had been driving down the road on his way back home when he saw a familiar polka dot rain jacket being assaulted by some grubby asshole. He had slammed on his breaks and jerked his old beater of a car into park. He flew out of the car dashing to your side.

“Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Of. Her.” He hissed as he stepped between you and your assailant. The man released her arm like it shocked him as Kai glared at him with angry brown eyes.

“Sorry man, I didn’t know she had a fuckin boyfriend she should have said something,” the man backpeddaled.

“It shouldn’t matter if a person has a boyfriend or not! No means no asshole!” You shouted the fear draining from you being rapidly replaced by righteous anger.

“If I ever see you again I’ll be the last person you’ll ever see fuck face” Kai spat angling himself rven further infront of you as the man ran off.

As soon as the man was gone Kai spun so that he was facing you. His eyes ran down your body looking for any possible injuries. Water dropped from his wild brown curls as he checked you over. He was careful not to touch you but you weren’t having any of that, you launched yourself into his arms your own wrapping around his surprisingly muscled middle.

“Thank you, you saved my ass,” you mumbled into his soaked t-shirt, happy that the rain was hiding your tear stained cheeks.

“You scared me to death, let’s get you home,” he brushed off your thank you. Like he could let someone try to hurt the only good thing in his world. He guided you to his car that was still parked in the middle of the road with the engine running.

Once you weee safely inside and he was driving again he turned to you. You couldn’t help the heat that filled your cheeks at his pointed gaze. You had never been alone like this with Kai before and it was frankly overwhelming.

“Why were you walking home, I know you have a car?” Kai asked his tone still full of worry. He would personally pay to have your car fixed if it was out of commission.

“I always walk when it’s raining, rain is my favorite” you blushed at how childish it sounded coming from your mouth. He let out an exasperated chuckle.

“Of course you do! Your a living breathing chick flick!” His tone was exasperated but lighthearted in a way.

“Hey! I resent that!” You shot out indignantly, “if I were a living breathing chick flick I would get the guy.”

Kai couldn’t help but look at you like you were dumb his brown eyes scanning your face to make sure you weren’t pulling his leg.

“Y/n you could literally get any dude you wanted, you’re freaking adorable” He sounded stunned that you would think such a thing. You rolled your eyes you didn’t need your best friend’s older brother blowing smoke up your rear.

“Adorable girls don’t get the guy Kai-Kai, hot girls get the guy” you rolled your eyes elbowing him gently. You didn’t know it but you were the only person in the world allowed to call him Kai-Kai. He pulled into your driveway still looking at you like you had grown three heads.

“You’re not serious y/n” Kai asked incredulously running a hand through his wet brown curls.

“Kai-Kai you don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m your sisters best friend” you rolled your eyes, moving to get out of Kai’s car.

“Give me your pinky” his voice sounded strange. Still you flashed him a goofy smile holding out a painted pinky. He linked his pinky with your own his was much larger and warmer.

“You know how a pinky swear works right?” He asked and you nodded still confused on where he was going with this.

“Yeah you can’t break a pinky swear” you replied.

“Well I pinky promise to tell you the brutally honest truth no sugar coating” he declared.

“Okay” you replied still a bit confused.

“Y/n I have wanted you from the moment you opened your mouth and that perfect giggle floated out. You ate everything I’m not. You’re a happy go lucky girl and I’m just some internet troll that enjoys getting a rise outta people,

“You’re way to good for me and I would never even bother to think that you would ever be interested in me. But you gotta stop this self deprecating bullshit. You are the most beautiful human I know inside and out” he ranted and you could only stare at him in shock, floored by his revelation.

“You like me?” You questioned your voice soft and squeaky.

“Hell yeah! How could anyone not like you y/n?” He too sounded surprised.

You unlatched your pinkies trying not to overthink what you were going to do next. You stared into Kai’s piercing brown eyes gathering your non existent courage. You leaned forward pushing forward with your hands on his console. Your lips connected in a searing kiss his lips scorched your own as he kissed you back with a fierceness, his hand burying itself in the back of your hair.

Sorry this took so long I was exhausted and time got away from me ❤️❤️❤️. Much love and thanks for reading.

#pre cult Kai #evan peters #kai x reader #kai anderson x reader #protective Kai Anderson #kai #kai anderson #kai x reade #kai angst #pre-cult Kai Anderson #reader insert #ahs fanfiction #ahs cult

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babydaddyleorio · 3 years

Text

falling for you

pairings: Dabi x fem!reader

word count: 1,757

warnings: a shit ton of angst, grammatical errors

The truth was It was over for the two of you. It was a hard pill to swallow, but one that you had to unfortunately accept.

You and Dabi stood back to back on the rooftop as helicopters twisted and turned above your heads. The spotlight harshly shined across your scathed face and you had to cuff a hand to shield your eyes from the intensity of the brightness. You turned your head, analyzing the current state your boyfriend was in since he endured the most damage. Dabi staggered in his spot as If to be chasing his balance, holding on to the wound that was placed on the side of his stomach.

The League had tried to carry out the mission of dismantling the hero society completely, using you and Dabi as pawns to infiltrate UA. They wanted to start by eliminating everyone that was present in the school, relieving the city of any future hope they harbored for heroes. The plan was foolproof in your opinion, but It inevitably was sabotaged since the League had a mole planted unbeknownst to them. By the time you and Dabi had arrived at your positions, the heroes were already waiting for you with smiles on their faces. Being severely outnumbered, the both of you were left with no choice but to flee the area. Of course the Heroes were such pests that they ended up trailing you, stopping at nothing to obliterate you and Dabi. You sucked your teeth in annoyance as you recounted all the injuries Dabi had gotten just from trying to protect you.

Your eyes shut themselves, the intense wind from the blades of the many helicopters making your hair fly in all types of directions. Dabi grabbed your hand, feebly looking for any exits that could save you both in this moment, but It was futile since they had already cornered you like flies on a spider’s web.

“Give yourself up, League of villains! Or else we’ll have no choice but to open fire.” The man who you assumed was the chief policeman yelled into his megaphone while staring down at the both of you with malice in his eyes. Dabi tsked to himself angrily, shaking his head while gripping his body tighter.

“We can’t go out like this.” You spoke suddenly while gazing towards Dabi with creased eyebrows. Dabi chuckled lowly, turning to look at you with a smirk shaping his lips.

“Don’t worry, I got you-”

Before you could even blink, a bullet pierced Dabi straight through his chest, causing him to stumble off the ledge of the building from the immense force. You gasped with wide eyes and flung your body towards him, grabbing on to his hand just before he fell into the black abyss below you.

“Hang on, I’m going to try to pull you up.” You grunted into the air and mustered all your strength to yank his body, but pain mercilessly shot up your arms as little progress was made from your attempts.

“Stop, It’s no use.” Dabi rasped, sucking in a breath at how unbearable his pain was becoming shortly after doing so. Dabi couldn’t believe how terrible life was looking for him right now. It vexed him that he was able to endure the agonizing suffering Endeavour put him through for years, but a few measly bullets was what was going to take him out of this world?

“No, I think I can do It.” You expressed quickly, continuing your hardest to lug him back to the rooftop. Dabi looked up at you, watching through hooded eyes as you tried your best to keep him afloat. His throat felt dry as he finally came to terms with what he had to do for the both of you right now. His expression became dull as he relaxed his body to fall slack, and confusion blanketed you as you wondered why Dabi had stopped his movements.

“Leave me and save yourself while you still can.” He demanded and you finally stopped your tugging, in fact your whole body had gone still at his words.

Leave him? No you could never do such a thing.

“Don’t do this to me, Dabi. We’re a team, I’m not going to leave you.” You insisted, ignoring the nonsense he was currently spewing. Dabi smacked his lips, the pain in his stomach starting to eat away at his patience.

“Y/n, look at where we are right now. The cops and heroes have surrounded us, I’m hanging off the side of a 200 feet tall building with wounds everywhere, and you can barely hold on.” Dabi squeezed your hand firmly and the feeling still lingered across your palm as you licked your dry lips.

“It’s time you let go.”

Your mouth fell open, unable to process what Dabi meant by that. You hadn’t realized It yet, but your eyes had begun watering which tampered with your clear vision. You told yourself that this could’ve just been from all the debris that was flying into them, but deep down you knew that your sore eyes was sparked by the ending of your story being closer than you had hoped.

“You know I can’t do that.” Your voice cracked as you spoke and your hands had become overwhelmingly sweaty as you kept an iron grip onto his. Dabi slowly looked up into the obsidian sky, a series of events suddenly playing in front of him as If he were watching a movie. Realization finally hit Dabi as he saw himself and you appear in the clouds.

It was his life flashing before his eyes.

The first scene he saw was the day he first met you and his heart pounded heavily against his chest as his eyes captured the bright smile that swept across your face when he introduced himself to you. What he wouldn’t give to go back to that day.

The next thing that appeared in front of him was your wedding day. You wore an angelic white dress with your hair done elegantly, and the way your skin glowed as you walked down the aisle was enough to snatch Dabi’s breath away from him. I wish I could have proposed to you and met you at the altar.

The last thing that was shown above him was Dabi holding you in his arms, your belly being swole as your hands rested endearingly on It. I’ll never get the chance to have the family I’ve always dreamt of.

Tears steadily dropped from Dabi’s eyes, his stomach churning as a helicopter suddenly blocked his view of the future you could have had together.

“Dabi? Do you hear me?” You frantically asked him, having to raise your voice slightly higher to grab his attention. Dabi’s gaze seemed far away to you, but you quickly were reminded that he was still there by the tear you saw roll down his chin.

“I really wish I could’ve been with you until the very end.” Dabi sniffled with a strangled voice and your eyebrows shot up at what he was implying.

“You will be with me until the very end!” You shouted confidently, but Dabi’s vacant gaze was still placed on the black sky. His eyes then shifted down towards you, and your breath caught in your throat as you got a glimpse of the small smile that adorned Dabi’s face. With the little strength Dabi had left, he moved his free hand so that It laid on top of yours.

“It’s time.” Dabi announced and you moved your head back in disbelief. The sound of what you assumed was the squad of Heroes and policemen's footsteps attacked your ears as they stomped up the stairs that led to where you were at. You couldn’t believe this was all happening and all of It felt as If It were moving too fast.

“No…” You said, barely above a whisper. The wind circulating around you blew harder, and the feeling of uneasiness had sunk down to the pit of your stomach

“Surrender now!” You heard the police yell through his megaphone again, his loud voice now closer than It had been when he first used It.

“Shut up.” You hissed in response, clenching your jaw to the point where It hurt.

“Let me go, y/n.” Dabi urged, and by now your ears had begun ringing from the police sirens that surrounded you.

“Shut up.” You were pleading now, shaking your head side to side as tears streamed from your swollen eyes.

“Give yourselves up right now or we’ll do it by force!” The chief shouted into his megaphone once again and your whole body started to convulse as a sob took over you.

“Shut up, shut up! All of you just shut up!” You yelled repeatedly, closing your eyes tightly as their voices invaded your head. You didn’t want to give yourself up, and you didn’t want to let go of Dabi either. You banged your fist on the cement ground as you heard the footsteps of the police get louder.

“Don’t you think this hurts me too? I don’t want to leave you, but I need to do this. You’ve helped me so much, I don’t know where I would be without you.” Dabi yelled over everything, hoping to be the one that captured all your attention. You looked down at him and saw the pain that was sprawled across his face, hiccuping as the spotlight stopped over you once again.

“Please, do this last favor for me y/n.” Dabi begged, this time his voice desperate. “Please let me go.”

Your hand was tired and at that moment you could see that Dabi was too. His eyes were low and blood had now seeped across his T-Shirt, making It crimson instead of the white It was before you left your home. You felt claustrophobic as everyone demanded that you listened to their commands and with one last look at your shaking hands, you had decided what to do. You inhaled a deep breath of the frigid night air before slowly nodding your head.

“Okay.” You finally said, the door behind you bursting open, showcasing the many heroes and policemen that were here to execute you.

“Okay.” Dabi smiled weakly, his eyes shining under the harsh light.

You turned your head to the side while shutting your eyes, letting Dabi’s fingers slip from yours.

“Y/n, look at me.” Dabi requested and you reluctantly opened your eyes to see his face one last time. The policemen were closing in on you now and It had finally dawned on you that time had run out for the two of you and It was nothing you could do to get It back.

Dabi’s hand dropped out of yours and you watched with a heavy heart as his body plummeted to the ground. Dabi’s hair had covered his eyes, but you still were able to get a glimpse of his upturned lips as he grew farther and farther away from you.

I love you, he mouthed and your bottom lip quivered as you mouthed It back.

I love you too, Dabi.

Dabi closed his eyes, spreading his arms wide as the air tickled his skin.

He heard your piercing scream as gravity pushed him down faster, a lone tear managing to cascade down his cheek.

“I’ll see you in our next life.” Were the last words that fell from Dabi’s mouth before his world went blank and your loud cries filled the air.

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thewickedkings · 4 years

Text

Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 7

Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks, an unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything so far, but please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

~~~

Jude shifted in her seat uncomfortably as she glanced at Taryn in the driver’s seat, her light makeup and soft pink dress making her look sweet and innocent, especially compared to Jude’s mostly black outfit. Apparently, Taryn had also wanted to Cardan’s party, so they were forced to drive there together. A stilted silence hung over them the whole drive, and Jude did nothing to break it, opting to stare out the window.

Cardan’s neighborhood reeked of luxury. The houses sat far apart, with sprawling, perfectly groomed lawns. Cardan’s house, or better put, mansion, loomed in a secluded corner at the end of the street. The house was perfectly symmetrical, a balcony and long glass windows on each side, its perfection making it seem cold and impersonal. Golden lights reflected against the polished driveway, which was already packed with cars.

Jude could already hear the thumping music coming from inside. She closed the car door behind her and followed Taryn as they walked down the street towards Cardan’s house.

They pushed through the front door and into the entryway. Two gleaming staircases spiraled on each side of her, and through them was a living room, which was already littered with people. Music pumped through speakers Jude couldn’t see, and kids lounged on the couches in the seating area. The party was already in full swing, and yet everything was much more relaxed than Jude had expected.

“Text me when you want to leave,” Taryn said, voice raised so Jude could hear her, and then she quickly disappeared up the stairs, leaving Jude alone.

A few awkward conversations and a couple of drinks later, Jude found herself wandering to the kitchen. The elegant marble countertop was littered with empty cups, and a couple of kids Jude vaguely recognized sat on bar stools.

The fridge door closed, revealing Cardan, who was holding as many water bottles as he could fit into his hands. His cheeks were slightly flushed, his shirt collar slightly uneven, and Jude immediately relaxed at the familiar face.

His gaze caught Jude’s, and his mouth curved up into a smile. “You came.”

Perhaps it was the easygoing atmosphere of the party, but Jude let herself smile back. “I did.”

“How was soccer practice?” he asked innocently.

“It was definitely ‘sensational,’” she replied, hands making air quotes. “How proud were you of yourself for coming up with that?”

“You have to admit it was pretty good.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She shook her head dismissively and gestured to the water bottles. “You need help with those?”

Cardan blinked in surprise. “Sure.”

She leaned forward, taking the bottles that threatened to spill out of his arms into hers, her fingers brushing against Cardan’s warm skin.

“We can take these upstairs. A whole bunch of us are playing ping pong if you want to come.”

“Sure. But don’t blame me when I beat you in front of everyone.”

“That confident?”

“Of course,” she quipped, following him as he pushed their way up the stairs and into a wide game room. A plush couch sat facing away from them, angled towards the expensive flat screen TV against the wall, switched to the latest basketball game. Behind it was the table tennis table, and a group of guys surrounded it, cheering as one of the players scored a point.

Cardan set the water bottles on a counter in the far corner of the room, and Jude did the same.

Cardan gently grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the table tennis table. “You ready to lose?”

Jude scoffed. “In your dreams, Greenbriar.”

“Ok everyone, move it,” Cardan announced. “Duarte here thinks she can beat me.” The two guys playing rolled their eyes but handed Cardan the rackets.

“Knows. I know I can beat you,” Jude corrected. One of the guys who had been playing whistled. Adam, she recognized. She was pretty sure she had study hall with him.

Adam grinned at Jude. “Please put him in his place. This guy needs to knock his ego down a couple pegs.”

Jude laughed. “Tell me about it.”

Cardan ignored them, rolling his shoulders back and brushing a loose curl away from his face, offering Jude the ball. “I’ll let you serve.”

Jude just rolled her eyes and took the ball from his hands. “How kind of you. You ready?”

Cardan nodded and Jude served. The ball flew over the net, and Cardan quickly leaned to his right, but before he could return it, the ball spun sideways and out of his reach.

Cardan cursed, and a girl in the corner cheered.

Jude had failed to mention to Cardan that she had been playing table tennis at her local gym for years now and had even beat a couple of college students in a tournament. It was safe to say she was pretty good at it.

Cardan retrieved the ball from the floor and tossed it back to her. His dark eyes were filled with mirth when they met hers across the table. “Okay, Jude, I see how you’re playing.” A sharp flare of anticipation went through her as she lifted her racket for her next serve. This time, Cardan expected her move and hit the ball swiftly back, starting a back and forth rally between them.

When she missed a particularly hard corner shot, a smirk tugged at Cardan’s mouth.

“Okay, Cardan, I see how you’re playing,” she mimicked.

And so the game went.

After every point, Adam called out the score. A crowd began to form around them as the game intensified, sweat beading on Jude’s neck. The familiar urge to defeat him welled up inside her, the competition between them now in a tangible form.

It seemed Cardan thought the same, because his ever-present smirk was gone, his brow furrowed and lip bitten in concentration. The realization came, unbidden, that she found that intense look of determination very attractive on him.

The thought momentarily pulled Jude out of her competitive haze, and as Cardan lifted his racket to serve, Jude’s gaze caught on something over his shoulder, or more accurately, someone.

Locke was standing behind Cardan, his arms wound around a girl. She watched as Locke leaned forward and kissed the girl on the lips. A girl who, when she pulled back, had the same chestnut hair as hers. A girl Jude would recognize anywhere, because her appearance was a splitting image of her own.

Taryn.

Cardan hit the ball over the net, but Jude didn’t notice.

Everything clicked together. The date Taryn had been on when Jude needed the car. Her strange attitude after Jude’s had gone out with Locke, which now Jude recognized as jealousy. The cold distance growing between them that Jude had never understood. Nicasia’s warning that Locke ‘likes to create drama.’

Cardan’s voice brought her back to the present. “Come on, Jude,” he taunted. “That one was easy.”

Jude’s racket clattered against the table, her vision red. “That jerk.” If he wanted drama, she’d give it to him. After she slapped him.

She rounded the table, eyes narrowed, but Cardan blocked her. “What’s wrong?” His eyes followed hers to Locke, whose hand was on Taryn’s waist, and then back to her. Understanding dawned on his features surprisingly quickly.

“Please don’t tell me Locke was the guy that left the flowers at your door.”

“Unfortunately.” She moved to step around him, but Cardan stopped her again.

“Wait.” When she glared at him, he stepped back, chastened. “Look, don’t give him what he wants. He wants you to get mad and confront him.”

“So what? You want me to pretend nothing happened? That my twin sister has been knowingly going out with the same guy as me?” she seethed. How had she been so blind?

“No, Jude. Just wait it out and then you play him.”

She gritted her teeth, only the thought of revenge letting her acquiesce. “Fine.”

She turned her back to Cardan and Locke, leaving the table tennis table behind, and headed in the opposite direction, towards the table with drinks. She grabbed one, and then walked up to a girl with dyed red hair and a nose piercing who looked like she would help Jude. “Hey.”

The girl appraised Jude. “Hey.”

Jude’s anger left no place for embarrassment. “You see that guy over there? You think you can accidentally spill this drink all over him for me?”

The girl’s brow quirked, but she shrugged. “Sure.”

She pushed through the crowd until she was downstairs, not waiting to see his reaction. She made her way through the front doors, stepping out into the night.

She had been played. And Taryn had been a willing participant in her humiliation. And Jude had no idea why. There was literally no reason for Taryn not to tell her what was going on. A little, ‘hey, I’m seeing the guy who asked you out, by the way,’ couldn’t have been so hard, could it?

She was suddenly glad she hadn’t made a scene. She was going to humiliate Locke so thoroughly he’d regret ever messing with her. As for Taryn, she wanted to throttle her.

She knew her anger was masking a deeper hurt, but she wasn’t ready to think about it. She just wanted to leave.

Her hands went to her pockets, reaching for her keys, coming up empty. Of course Taryn had them.

She shut her eyes, swallowing hard, and leaned back against the cool surface next to the door. The wall vibrated faintly with the music, an echo of the night she could have had. The autumn air was frigid against her bare arms, and suddenly Jude felt very, very alone.

The door creaked open, the sound of the music heightening before fading back as the door shut.

“That was not how I was expecting tonight to go,” Cardan said.

She shrugged, feeling Cardan’s gaze on her. She waited for him to mock her for falling for Locke’s tricks, but nothing came.

Instead he dangled his car keys in front of her and said, “Want to get out of here?”

~~~

Cardan had decided that the only possible thing to do after finding out someone cheated on you was to get yummy fast food (he spoke from experience, he’d said). For all his babbling, he completely ignored her when she asked why he was ditching his own party.

They were on their way to the nearest burger joint when, at the first stoplight, Cardan connected his phone to the speaker. The first beats of a song began to play through the speakers.

“Is this…” Jude trailed off in disbelief.

Cardan nodded his head seriously. “Yes, yes it is,” he replied, before he began to belt the lyrics to none other than Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off. His voice wasn’t even half bad, despite the fact that he was half-shouting.

“Oh my God, please no,” Jude groaned into the palm of her hand as the chorus approached.

“Come on Duarte. You can’t resist this.” He turned up the volume.

“Cause the players gonna play, play, play, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake,” he sang at her, aggressively shaking his head, and Jude couldn’t help but sing back, half laughing, “Shake it off, shake it off!”

Cardan’s answering smile was so wide, he was practically beaming at her. Something in her chest shifted at that smile, clicking into place. And then they were screaming the rest of the lyrics together, terribly off key and snorting with laughter, until Cardan turned into the drive through.

Cardan turned down the music, Jude felt almost giddy. She remained quiet as Cardan gave their order, sinking back into her seat, content. It seemed singing your heart out to Taylor Swift could cure all her problems. She definitely needed to do it more.

When they pulled up to the second window to pay, she reached for her wallet. Cardan rolled his eyes at her. “I got it.”

“What? No, I can pay.”

“I’m not paying for you. My dad is.” Cardan flashed a credit card at her and handed it to the lady at the cashier.

Cardan handed her the bag of food before rolling up his window and pulling into a vacant parking spot. The heavenly smell of fries wafted into the air, and Jude dug into the bag and handed Cardan his burger and fries before taking hers out and biting into it.

After a few moments of silence, save for the slurp of Cardan’s milkshake, Cardan finally asked, “So… you going to tell me what happened?”

Jude swallowed before responding. “What is there to tell? That the one guy who asked me out is some weird freak and went out with my twin sister at the same time and she went along with it?”

Cardan winced.

“Why can’t a normal guy just ask me out for once?” she groused.

“I think… most guys are intimidated by you.”

“Really?” Cardan gave her a look. “Okay, maybe I do come off as a little intimidating.”

“A little?”

Jude scowled, and grumbled, “I don’t want guys to be too intimidated by me to even talk to me.”

“Then maybe don’t glare when they try to approach you.”

“I don’t glare.”

“You do every time I approach.”

“You’re different.”

Cardan turned to her, challenging, “Yeah, how?”

“You know how,” Jude replied, rolling her eyes, and quickly changed the subject. “Wait, didn’t Locke cause drama between you and Nicasia too?”

Cardan blanched. “You could say that.”

Jude stared at him, waiting.

“Fine, she ditched me for him, okay? What is it about him that has all of you girls falling for him?” he joked, brushing it off.

“But I thought you two were… friends?”

“We’ve known each other our whole lives. Sometimes that’s the only thing holding up a friendship, and it wasn’t enough.” He shrugged. “Especially after what he did. We’re not not friends, but we’re not friends either, you know?”

She nodded, and they fell into a companionable silence, the radio humming faintly in the background.

What made someone qualify as a friend? The only person she could think of was the Bomb, and they’d barely known each other for a couple weeks.

She knew she tended to be a lone wolf, but it was probably pathetic that she barely think of one person. There were a couple of friends she made in school, but none she ever tried to hang out with beyond that. Somewhere along the line, she had gotten so used to figuring out everything by herself that she didn’t know how to do anything with anyone else.

But maybe it didn’t have to be that hard, she thought as she watched Cardan dig into the empty bag for any extra fries, the streetlight shadowing his face. Somehow Cardan had known exactly what she needed after tonight’s debacle, and it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

She took a sip of her milkshake, the sugary sweetness in harmony with her next thought. Because even if she didn’t exactly have the most experience with friendships, she couldn’t help but think that, despite everything, her and Cardan were very much veering into the friends territory.

~~~

A/N: yes, this fic is EXTREMELY self-indulgent because my real life is bland okay? it was SO fun to write (and i hope... fun to read?? hehe) also Cardan saying guys in general find Jude intimidating when he’s literally talking about himself,, my boy is crushing so hard

Thank you so much for reading I can’t say it enough, your comments and reblogs mean the world to me <3

Tagging: (Bolded tags didn’t work. I don’t know why, it might be your settings or just tumblr acting up, but I’ll tag you in the comments for now! If I forgot to tag you or messed something up, just send me an ask and I’ll fix it as soon as I can!)

@goddess-of-writing @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @amoosewithflannelforfur @aneurwin @mercrutiodidntdieforthis @hizqueen4life @mi-mavencalories @simonelovesff @b00kworm @nope-has-lied @andromeddea @aesthetics-11 @queen-of-glass @runnybabbit9 @afexiss @the-keen-queen @yesimtheslytherinwitch @fizziefaerie @abigneignenn @storiesandschemes @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @words-of-the-wise @thedazzlingheights @magicalbookwyvern @kittkatandbooboo @queen-of-no1 @iminsanenotobsessed @dorkzrul @snusbandxknifewife @aknymph @clouds-and-peonies @thefolkofthefic @snorting-up-pizza @fandomfanatic987 @fandom-will-be-the-death-of-me @cardanslittletail @curlyredqueen06 @losssssstttttt @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @omfglucayababies @judiecardan @woodsbeyond1 @yourroyalbooknerd @ireallyshouldsleeprn @st00pid231 @alittledribbledrabble @nomotivation-lads @herladyshipxx @emmabookworm08 @ducksmurf135 @jurdanhell @booksandothersecrets @fangirlprincess09 @ysitsohardtofindaname @dressedindustandshadows @mickeymouse-house @clockworkgraystairs @thesirenwashere

#between the two of us #chapter 7 #wow i actually wrote something #jurdan #jurdan fanfic #jurdan fic #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfot #tfota fics #tfota fic

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 32

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 32

The stage was lit up with twinkling silver and blue lights. A black-haired girl with bangs was surrounded on the raised stage, her delicate chin nodding to the beat, matching the drumbeat as a new song began. The men and women on the dance floor were cheering and screaming loudly. Coupled with the sound of the glasses shaking like dice on the table beside him, the noises hit Lin Yan's temple like a chisel and pierced straight through his skull. Lin Yan downed the rest of his whiskey. He sank into the sofa, crossing his arms and legs, staring blankly at the stage.

There was a whistle from the crowd. Several boys pushed Weiwei onto the stage. She tried to wave her hands in protest, embarrassed. When she found that there was no getting out of it, she just laughed and followed the black-haired girl's dance steps. She danced even better than the other girl. Her overalls and beret were tidy and sophisticated. She moved like a queen dressed in casual clothes, and each of her confident expressions looked vibrant.

There was a wave of cheers. Not only were the guests who came to celebrate Weiwei's birthday cheering, but even the rest of the bar patrons stopped to cheer for her. Lin Yan gave a depressed smile. This scene was so familiar to him. This time last year, they were having a passionately entertaining and wild time. Back then, he lost the game and was punished to rush onto the stage to take off his shirt. He kissed Weiwei with his shirt off, earning the envy of the audience amidst the roaring cheers that almost blew the roof of the bar.

Lin Yan cast his gaze to the ceiling. The small bright blue spotlights were magnified into a blurred mess. His drunken state dulled his senses, but he was still very much aware. An empty space of air isolated him from the joy and noise of the crowd. He drowned his sorrows in the dark corner alone, isolated and miserable. There wasn't a lonelier feeling than witnessing the happiness of others. Lin Yan filled his glass with more alcohol. The half-melted ice clinked against the side of the glass. The whiskey dried out his throat, his face burned. . .

A chill covered his hand. Lin Yan shrugged him off. He kept silently muttering: leave me alone, leave me alone.

I'm really pissed off.

My life shouldn’t be like this. Xiao Yu, do you think that this is the day I'm supposed to be living? I'm tired of being on edge every day for something I can't even see, not knowing whether I'll live or die. Every day I’m locked in my apartment learning fucking Maoshan techniques. Why me? Why did you pick me?

"Lin Yan!" Weiwei waved at him vigorously from the stage. Her cheeks, damp with sweat, glowed. She was like a butterfly fluttering in glimmering gold glitter, "Come here. Dance with me."

Lin Yan held the table and tried to stand up, but his legs were too weak to listen to him. He shook and flopped down again. He lay across the table, feebly waving his hand at Weiwei

The queen gracefully leaped off the raised stage. She moved through the crowd on the dance floor and walked towards him. Her thin figure and loose overalls looked beautiful, and she impatiently pushed away the men that tried to come up and talk to her. Weiwei pulled up a chair across from Lin Yan and sat down. She fanned her face with her hand: "It's boring to drink alone. Give me a cup and I'll join you."

"Here." Lin Yan slammed his cup on the table. He picked up the whiskey bottle and slid it towards Weiwei. Before she could respond, he took a big swig of his own drink, the spicy liquid pouring into his stomach. "I haven't wished you a happy birthday yet. Cheers."

He felt himself laugh. even though he felt like crying. Through his drunken gaze, Weiwei's champagne-coloured image was dangling in front of his field of vision in a hazy glare, familiar and untouchable, like in the good old days that were never coming back. Just get absolutely wasted. He didn't have to think about this stuff if he was blackout drunk. Lin Yan unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, tilted his head onto the back of the sofa, and took another sip.

"What's wrong? Happy-Go-Lucky Comrade Lin Yan drinking booze? Unheard of." Her long slim hand unscrewed a bottle of black tea, a string of silver bracelets clinked as her wrist shook. Weiwei handed the drink to Lin Yan: "Water it down a bit. You'll end up puking later. We're all celebrating my birthday. You got yourself drunk. I'll take it as a sign that you still haven't moved on from me. I might have to take a few measures."

Lin Yan hummed. He turned towards Weiwei, his warm breath mixed with the stench of alcohol hitting her face: "What kind of measures? Like giving me your body?"

Xiao Yu sat off to the side, his icy gaze piercing Lin Yan's heart like a thorn. He avoided Xiao Yu's eyes. Under the influence of alcohol, everything he had been through recently was fighting to come out. He suppressed his thoughts and pushed them down, but he wanted to cover his ears and scream his mind at the top of his lungs. But he couldn't say anything. No one would believe him. The only thing he could do was open his eyes and try to find a way out of the lonely darkness. Lin Yan irritably tugged on his collar. He took Weiwei's wrist and pulled her against the back of the sofa, leaning forward to face her gold-dusted eyes. Why not? Why shouldn't he do this? This was the life he deserved!

Weiwei froze. She struggled to free herself from Lin Yan's grip: "You've had too much to drink. Give me your keys. I'll take you home."

Another wave of dizziness washed over him and the ceiling spun in circles. Lin Yan couldn't help but bend over and dry heave a few times. His stomach flipped. He staggered, supporting himself on the table, and moved towards the bathroom. He couldn't support himself but, before he could fall, two hands wrapped around his waist to catch him. Lin Yan turned his head, confused, and bumped into Weiwei. It was just like old times - nothing had changed. The only thing that had changed was him. He had been dragged into the darkest corner of the abyss by invisible forces, endlessly falling, unable to find anyone who could save him.

It was a warm and soft embrace, with the unique scent of a woman's perfume. It was completely unlike the one he was used to; the chilly aura, cold and untouchable, his slender fingers, his thin waist. . . The secret and sinful fantasy he was imagining made Lin Yan shudder and burn with shame.

"Stay away from me." Lin Yan panted heavily. He covered his mouth to keep himself from vomiting: "I'm a fucking walking plague. Anyone who touches me is cursed."

He dropped like a sack into the back seat of his car when Weiwei drove him home. Even the cold wind that kept pouring into the car couldn't keep him conscious. He couldn't remember how Weiwei's slender body managed to help him into the elevator. In the darkness, he instinctively grabbed onto the person next to him. He could smell her sweet orange-scented lipstick. Her shoulders were too narrow to lean on. . .

The hem of a red dress flashed around the corner of the stairs and a silver bell-like giggle sounded from the depths of the corridor. Lin Yan's heart sank.

This desolate corridor led straight to hell.

Lin Yan struggled to pull out his keys. When Weiwei's arms wrapped around him from behind, he bit his lip and roughly pushed her away. "This isn't what I meant." Lin Yan frustratingly pulled at his hair: "You need to go. Don't stay here."

"Let's start over." Weiwei played with the shiny silver bracelets on her wrist. "I'm not seeing anyone either."

"I'm with someone already. I'm getting married." Lin Yan gritted his teeth, a chill shooting down his spine: "Hurry up and leave! Are you listening to me?"

"You still don't want me. You always tease me and never want me." Weiwei's eyes grew desperate. "What's wrong with me? What is so wrong with me that you constantly have to tease me like this?"

"Go. You need to leave now." Lin Yan's gaze moved behind Weiwei's shoulders and focused on the tall dark shadow behind her. His cold face was overwhelmingly volatile. He saw Xiao Yu's hands and protruding knuckles wrap around Weiwei's throat, commanding, domineering, and selfish eyes staring back at him. Lin Yan shook his head. He staggered into his living room and slammed the door in her face.

I just want to go back to my old life. What's so wrong with that?

Xiao Yu coldly looked down at his embarrassing state, his frigid body lingering in the darkness like an endless nightmare.

I can't do this anymore. I can't live in this hell anymore.

Lin Yan knelt on the floor, his head leaning on the sofa, sobbing like a child. Why do you have to take everything away from me? I would give anything to go back to the life I had before. No more ghosts, no more curses, no threat of imminent death. I want to be able to go to my parents’ house for dinner with my fiancée and watch boring news broadcasts every night. Will you let me have that again? Will you let me go?

The violent dizziness made it impossible for him to stand back up. Cold hands hugged his torso, wrapping around his waist, and pulled him down onto the sofa. Lin Yan helplessly held his head in his hands. Now I can't even get a fucking hard-on when I'm with her anymore. Xiao Yu, you bastard. You owe me the life I deserve!

Icy lips covered his. He nipped at Lin Yan's tongue, sucking up the blood that oozed from the bite. The possessive kiss took Lin Yan's breath away, his face flushed red. Xiao Yu suddenly let go of him. He clutched his shoulder and said: "Lin Yan, don't mess with me."

"Who the fuck is messing with you? Who's the one provoking who here?" Lin Yan stared at him with red-rimmed eyes and whimpered: "Aren't you the one who wants to follow me? Why shouldn't I do that? There's nothing that can happen between us. I wouldn't be able to tell my parents about us. I wouldn't be able to tell my friends anything. I'll be a bachelor for the rest of my life in everyone else's eyes. Xiao Yu, you’re dead. You’re a ghost. Why are you forcing me to do this? You took everything from me. I don’t want to like men. I don't want to be gay. I don't want to be treated like a fucking psycho that talks to the air!"

Lin Yan fell onto Xiao Yu's shoulders and cried, cursing. He had never been so wronged or humiliated like this before. However, Xiao Yu just sat silently, his expression chillingly frightening.

After a while, he pushed Lin Yan away and strode towards the bedroom. When he came out, his arms were filled with a bunch of things. Upon closer inspection, they were all things left by Weiwei when they broke up. Lin Yan had wanted to keep them as a memento. He didn't want to throw them away.

"What are you doing!?" Lin Yan's voice trembled.

In the next second, he understood. Lin Yan curled up on the sofa, watching Xiao Yu throw everything Weiwei-related he had in the apartment in front of him. Pyjamas, slippers, the box with an engagement ring inside, the bag he hadn't gotten rid of yet, a teddy bear, matching couples mugs, photos; everything was destroyed one by one in front of him. Ceramic cups were smashed into pieces on the ground, pieces of fabric falling like bits of snow. The whole room was a disaster.

"Stop it, this is my home!"

The sound of torn cloth tore through his head like the sound of a chainsaw.

"That's enough. . ." Lin Yan said with a low, dishevelled voice.

The destruction didn't stop there. Her toothbrush was snapped and thrown on the ground, nail polish was spilt everywhere, her umbrella was slashed into threads. The ghost carried on like no one else was in the room. Soon the living room floor was covered in debris. Chairs piled with all the items tumbled to the floor.

Xiao Yu yanked off all the buttons on a long skirt and then tore it in half with a sneer. It fluttered to the ground, covering the ripped-up teddy bear on the ground.

The last thing Xiao Yu picked up was a velvet jewelry box holding the engagement ring he bought for Weiwei. Xiao Yu took out the sparkling little stone and snapped it off, forcing it into Lin Yan's chest. The deformed ring bounced into the gap between the sofa cushions, disappearing for good.

"Lunatic! You're insane!" Lin Yan had a splitting headache. He covered his face and looking at the room full of debris. A photo of him and Weiwei was on the ground, torn down the middle, and Weiwei's face had been scratched into a deep black hole. He trembled with anger and incoherently screamed at Xiao Yu: "You. . .you're such a jealous man! Have you finished venting yet? Get the hell out! This is my home!"

Xiao Yu raised his chin and coldly said: "No."

"What the fuck do you want. . ."

Before Lin Yan had finished speaking, Xiao Yu was already fiercely kissing him.

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #dig a grave to dig out a ghost #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #danmei novel #danmei #yaoi novel #yaoi

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crispycrimebrulee · 3 years

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🎄25 Days of HXH: Day 18: Kurapika x Blizzard🎄

You couldn’t help but bite your nail absentmindedly, staring out the window at the frosty expanse. Sure, in many aspects, snow is beautiful, but tonight was not one of those nights. Outside looked harsh and ugly, an angry blur of white swept outside furiously, the wind howling and it swept the snow around, and the snow came down practically in sheets, burying anything and everything it could. Kurapika had gone out quickly to get more food and snacks, before the blizzard had started. You couldn’t help but wring your hands in guilt for not stopping him from going out, seeing how the weather had become so terrible. Gon, Leorio and Killua had mentioned coming up to the lodge a few days before Christmas, and they’d left town only an hour ago, so they must still be on the road, also caught in this mess of a storm. Carol of the Bells by Mykola Dmytrovych Leontovych

Taglist: @to-move-on-means-to-grow , @lifescreams27, @twistedsmth, @dukinaxael, @weeb-chick-181920 @my-child-gaara @absolute-flaming-trash @whistlingastronaut @demonhugger @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes @errorpeachy

You ventured down the stairs and paced around the living room, stuck in a constant loop of going up the stairs and then coming right back down, waiting for Kurapika to come back, and come back safely.

You stood in front of the floor to ceiling window, practically pressing yourself up against the chilly glass, trying to will Kurapika from afar to come home faster.

The trees swayed with the wind, and you could hear the bending in the trunks, hearing twigs snapping and making soft sounds in the snow, barely audible, as they were soon covered up by snow. You found yourself pacing once again, lost in thought of where Kurapika could be.

You were brought out of your thoughts by light, bright and piercing through the glass, causing you to startle and jump back. Coming to realization, you ran to the window, and you sighed with joy, feeling all the tension in your body melt away. The headlights of Kurapika’s car had broken through the snow, letting you know he was safe and well and would be in your arms very soon. Running to the door, you opened it slightly, but that was a fruitless venture, as the wind and snow swung the door open, nearly knocking you over. The frigid air made you yelp, feeling it pass through your bones, and it was most definitely below 0 degrees, and that guilt slowly crept back, realizing how cold Kurapika probably was. Kurapika hopped out of the car and grabbed two bags, trudging forward in knee deep snow, burying his face in his jacket and scarf as best as he could. You ran to the wide open door open, your arms wide as well, reaching for his shivering figure. Once he was in reach, you grab him and pull him inside, burying your face in his snow covered jacket, not caring about the snow and the cold. Kurapika embraced you back, feeling his shivering lessen the more you held him, until you were both hit with another blast of cold from the outside and you shut the door with a slight struggle.

Kurapika set the bags down and removed his layers, and you watched the snow fall on the floor, quickly turning into a puddle beneath him. His cheeks and his nose were red, they looked stung and sore from the harsh cold, and he had begun sniffling. His hair was slightly windswept, slightly wet from the now melting snow that had stuck to the bits of hair sticking out from his hat. His hat was soaking now as well, slowly, from the melting going on. Essentially, poor Kurapika was now cold and wet, sniffling and lightly shivering as he put everything in a wet pile. Running off, you went to the bathroom to start a hot bath for him, hoping to avoid the possibility of a cold with him standing in the living room, wet and shivering. Kurapika had shuffled after you, smiling softly at your quiet concern.

After a hot soak and drying off, Kurapika came out from the bathroom, sniffling much less, clearly warmer and the flush on his cheeks looked much better compared to the previous flush he had from the cold. You smiled and ran up to him, cupping his face.

“You look much better!” rubbing your thumb on his face, “I’m sorry I sent you out...I didn’t know it would get so bad…” fading off, unable to keep eye contact with him.

“It was really my choice to go, y/n, so it’s alright. I’m alright, really.” Kurapika reassured, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“You want hot coco? We have whipped cream and marshies!” you sang, thinking about marshmallows and coco.

“Marshies…?” Kurapika cocked his head.

“Marshmallows. Marshies. Mallows. Same thing.” you said, taking his hand and pulling him downstairs.

Upon getting in the kitchen, you had two cups of hot chocolate set out, whipped cream and a bowl of marshmallows and candy cane bits set out, like a small decorating station.

Taking initiative, Kurapika took a mug and the whipped cream, creating a small swirl on the top and sprinkling some candy cane bits on the top, looking content with his quick work. Following suit, you made your own mug and walked over to the couch, sitting down with Kurapika to watch the blizzard rage on outside.

Kurapika sipped from his mug, the whipped cream touching his nose, leaving a bit in the spot. Looking at him you pulled out your phone and took out a picture, unable to keep a laugh from leaving your lips. He looked at you and wiped his nose, a soft smile gracing his lips. Also briefly checking your phone, you had a message from Leorio, stating they’d get there tomorrow, the blizzard being too awful to continue. You sighed, happy your friends would be kept safe from the dangers of the wild snow.

Scooting closer to Kurapika, you swipe your finger across his whipped cream, stealing a few candy cane bits with it. Kurapika looked at you, a soft look of shock on his face. You giggled, taking his whipped cream for yourself. Sipping your own mug triumphantly, you eye Kurapika as he sips as well, eyeing you all the same. You snickered, setting your cup down and resting your head on his shoulder, which he took as the initiative to quickly give you a kiss, sweet and slightly peppermint-y, with hints of chocolate. He smiled at your expression, shell shocked and slightly dazed. Payback, you suppose. Shouldn’t have stolen that whipped cream...

After some time, and dinner, it was well into the night. The blizzard still raged on outside, the snow probably hip deep at this rate. Shoveling it would be a tiresome job, but you could always make it a fun job. At this point in the night, you and Kurapika earned a good night's sleep, and you tucked into bed, the whistling of the wind between the branches becoming an empty threat as you snuggled up together, warm and safe.

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familiarlyfrigid · 2 years

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𝑫𝒐 𝜤 𝑳𝒐𝝂𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖?

(OC & Canon) Short, very self-indulgent oneshot ft. Frigid and Frieza. Frigid struggles to understand platonic feelings. Full post under the cut.

Frigid loved nothing more than training with Frieza. She loved being around someone so powerful, someone who seemed so perfect. It felt wrong. Was this what falling in love felt like? No, she thought, she couldn’t “love” people in the usual sense—but if her feelings weren’t of attraction, then what were they?

She was suddenly pulled back into reality as she saw a beam of purple light rocket towards her. She had gotten lost in thought and stopped paying attention for a second. A disc of energy formed in her hand. She hurriedly threw it at the beam, but it pierced through it, and she was blasted into the face of a cliff. Frieza flew at her as she landed, pinning her against the wall of rock. He was hovering in front of her, since he was quite a bit shorter than her, one hand holding both of her narrow wrists above her head. She hesitated to push him away, as part of her didn’t mind being so close to him. She always hated people putting their hands on her, but his touch didn’t bring her discomfort. Her vivid green gaze met his, showing no animosity. Energy gathered in his free hand, forming a blast aimed right at her head. He wore a sadistic smile, loving the power he had over his subordinates. Frigid felt her pulse racing, her face turning a deeper shade of violet as she helplessly stared up at her emperor, having no will to fight him. Why could she not bring herself to fight back?

Frieza saw that she wasn’t going to attack, and the orb of energy in his hand vanished. “Why have you stopped? Is there something on your mind?” he asked, a definite hint of curiosity in his voice. Never before had he seen her freeze up in the middle of a battle.

“It’s nothing— I was just watching how you fight,“ she dismissed, awkwardly looking away. It wasn’t a reasonable excuse, she knew, but it was all she could think of saying.

He frowned. “What’s so distracting that you can’t stay focused? You’ve seen me in combat multiple times now.”

“It’s just...” she struggled to find the right words. She had to put it in a way that didn’t make her look weak and soft. “I get lost watching you sometimes, and then I just want to… stop and admire you. I’ve never… loved someone so much before—in a non-intimate way.” The overwhelming want for him had to be what people meant by the feeling of “falling in love.” It was just her own platonic way of experiencing it. She took a nervous glance at Frieza, hoping he wouldn’t be upset with her for stopping their spar.

He gazed down at her calmly and let go of her wrists. She immediately felt relieved by how relaxed he seemed, lowering her arms to her sides. “You can’t get enough of me, hm?” he smirked, amused by her discomposure. “Well, you’ll have plenty of chances to watch and learn from me.” He drifted down to the ground, crimson eyes turning up to her while his tail swayed slowly behind him. He couldn’t reprimand her for thinking so highly of him—in fact, he greatly enjoyed having people be entranced by him instead of being afraid. “Don’t feel ashamed of yourself—and don’t get caught up in your own mind. There is nothing you need to hide.”

She nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Now, let’s continue, shall we? I’m only getting warmed up.”

#fanfic #dragon ball fanfiction #dbz fanfiction #dbz fanfic #frieza #oc frigid #loyalist!frigid

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

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Lasabrjotr Chapter 73: Teal

Chapters: 73/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: R

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Mentions of Sexual Activity, NSFW, Starting to Bring Some Threads Together

Summary: Asgard honors the giant as best it can. You continue to dream

The weather turned worse on the way back, until even the well maintained Ring Road was scarcely visible. Eventually, Loki pulled you up into his saddle on Leynarodd's back, seating you flush with his body, and wrapping his back-up cloak around you.

“I will keep you as warm as I may.” He breathed into your ear. “Would it help if I were to whisper lewd and wicked things to you?”

You giggled, but shook your head. “Just cuddle. I want to go to sleep.”

And so, he wrapped his arms around you as well, and let you doze.

Your arrival was heralded with a celebration that woke you with instruments and shouting. You moved back to Acorn as the procession moved through the city, and, still drowsy, participated in a great feast thrown in the giant's honor.

This was a part of Asgardian funerary customs, as taught to you by Saga. The burial honored the dead's body, and the feast honored the dead's spirit. Normally, the revelers told stories of the dead's deeds during life, but no one knew the giant, so instead extolled the accomplishments of all Jotun, across the ages.

You didn't have any such stories, so you listened and ate, as Bogljot described being defeated in a contest of speed by the Forest Giant, Hyrrokkin, as the normally quiet Heimdall sang praises to his many 'mothers', as an older Asgardian you didn't know described the great mountain kingdom of Utgardaloki, for whom Loki was named.

It was dark yet again by the time the feast ended, and Loki led you, stumbling and tipsy on cider, back to his bedroom. He carefully divested you of your armor, stripped every last garment from you, and sat you down on your chair beneath the sunlamp. As the light warmed your skin, Loki also shucked his own clothing, and sat down at your feet. The two of you spent an hour under the warm lamp, Loki reading you various examples of Earth poetry he thought you would like, or resting his head in your lap and letting you toy with his hair.

Finally, when fatigue had clearly caught all the way up with you, Loki turned out the light, and carried you off to bed, where he made love to you until you could no longer keep your eyes open. When you drifted away, it was on a cloud of warm bliss.

******

You found yourself in the glory of open space once more buoyed by sparkling blue light. It came from a gem that you could see now, flying before you like a comet, with yourself gliding along in its glowing tail. You started to reach out for the glittering object once more, but pulled your hand back, vaguely remembering something that put you off of grabbing it. Thoughts echoed within your blood, concepts resolving themselves into impressions in your mind.

You are learning me. Learn me. Learn more.

How? You thought. What are you?

A swirl of something. A blur of light, a different 'texture' than the blue.

Green.

Your right hand itched.

Learn me! Learn me! There is so much of me! Look! See!

Your world jittered, like a heartbeat slightly out of rhythm. With the suddenness of a drop of water in a still pool, the space around you rippled unexpectedly, folded in around you, and instead of nowhere, you were Somewhere.

A world full of green-skinned, red-haired people, thriving, but confused. A woman walked the streets crying out what you assumed to be a girl's name.

Titan, with its orange skies, empty, ruined. A ghost town of a planet.

Earth, running through frigid winds. Other humans ran beside you, dressed for a time long since passed. Frost Giants pursued, driving terror, like dogs, at your heels.

A woman, bald and elegantly androgynous, in flowing robes and surrounded by nothingness. She looked at you with pity, with eyes that pierced right through you.

“You are not ready for what is happening.” She said. “And I am not in a position to help.”

A severed head, the size of a small moon, floating through space. There were lights, cities built upon it, within it. You recoiled in horror, but as you watched, the cities shrank; went dark. The head floated backward, back and back. You blinked, and it was reattached to an impossibly gargantuan body. Another blink and the colossal being orbited a young sun, along with a haphazard belt of asteroids. You watched as they grasped one of the largest of them, and sundered it over their knee.

Wiping the newly exposed surface clean, the being stared out into a space that was dark and sparsely decorated with stars. Then, with fingertips each stained a different color, they grasped the asteroid and began to draw.

******

You awoke, brimming with the feeling that something important had happened while you slept, but couldn't quite pinpoint where that energy was coming from. There was something you felt the need to do, something you couldn't put a name to.

You could barely sit still under your sunlamp, wolfing down your oatmeal and dried fruit. Loki couldn't help but to comment on your increased energy. A wink and a suggestive comment, and you had him back in bed, hands on his chest, riding him for all he was worth.

You sure didn't hear him arguing.

When the two of you were finally presentable, scrubbed and dressed and fed, you took to the halls with your sunlamp in tow. Loki had some meetings to attend today; some job disputes that had come up recently. You had your classes with Saga. A light squeeze of the hand, and you parted ways.

The snow had continued through the night, piling up high against the windows. Reconstruction of your room had been forced to a halt, and all of your things had been moved, either to storage or to Loki's room. The caterpillar in a jar had become a chrysalis in a jar, but the butterfly had not emerged yet. It was possible that the cooler temperatures and lack of light had put it into some kind of stasis: unusual, but not unheard of.

It was still frightening to think that you had caused all that destruction, just because of a dream you couldn't even remember. What if you did that while Loki slept beside you?

There were far more people indoors now that winter had come, doing what Loki had described as their 'real' jobs, weavers and seamstresses, scribes, engineers, jewelers, and so many painters. In every hallway and alcove there was someone with a palette, someone with a pencil, someone carving the plaster into delicate ribbons and knots. Some of them told you they were trying to recreate murals from old Asgard. Others seemed to be trying a new take on their history. Others were focusing on more recent events.

As you walked through the halls, you saw heavily formulaic paintings of what must have been Odin and Frigga, Bor and the terrifying Hela, Heimdall, Thor, and Loki, and many others you didn't recognize. There were battles, and peace treaties, Vanir, Alfar, and Jotnar, There was Njord, Freya, and Freyr, whom you stopped and stared at for a few moments before shaking yourself free.

There were also events and vistas in a different style, some of which must have been pulled directly from the painters own memories. Soaring golden buildings and busy streets, folk dances and blacksmiths forging swords. A riot of berserkers clashing their metal staves, the view of a waterfall ocean.

There were Svartalfari in the great halls, Heimdall destroying a strange vehicle, portals to all of the realms circling each other. There was Frigga, standing tall, holding a sword over her head. There was Frigga, lying in a boat, surrounded by golden light. There was a sparkling red jewel, hanging over the head of a woman you realized must be a stylized Dr. Jane Foster. There were the Avengers again, painted in the heroic style of Asgard, haloed like holy beings. Did the Asgardians see them as the pantheon of Earth?

There was the destruction of Asgard. The great Jotun Surtr, the tiny form of Hela brandishing her thorn-like weapons against him in an almost heroic way. There was the enormous wolf Fenris, grappling with the Hulk. The star-filled expanse of space, with their island spaceship carrying them safely to Earth, a beautiful orb, painted as though seen through a window.

There were the mountains and river outside, rendered in such marvelous detail that you recognized the exact place. There were nightscapes of the Northern Lights.

And there was you.

Your little figure, next to Loki, with your flower crown helm. Among the longhouses of Trolerkaerhalla, wearing the cloak of a Seidkona. It was a very strange feeling, to see yourself immortalized like this. The impostor syndrome flared up, heavy and loud. Logically speaking, you had made history. But why should it have been you? Why should any of this be you?

You hurried through the increasingly colorful halls, seeking out the library. There would always be this battle inside you, between acknowledgment that you were deserving of good things, and belief that there were others so much more deserving.

You rushed into the library, with it's nice new door, and set up your sunlamp. Saga handed you your drum. The Valkyries were here, as well as an ancient, wizened woman who had probably been a Seidkona since the Parthenon had been built. She instructed you strictly, but patiently in the primeval rhythm of Seidkona ritual. There was a chant she was teaching you, a mystical affirmation ritual in a bygone dialect of the Asgardian language, so archaic that the meaning of the words were lost even on your venerable teacher. Saga understood them, but since she was not a Seidkona, she was in essence, forbidden from speaking them.

You got the feeling that it annoyed her a bit.

You were walked through the chant, and the drum beat over and over, committing the sounds to memory, like you had for the past few weeks. The only thing you were missing was the very last syllable of the chant, the knowledge of which would only be imparted on you at the eve of the Buridag festival. Before then, you would not be allowed to speak, or even know it, for fear of completing the spell prematurely.

After your lessons, you spent a little bit of time in one of the library's side rooms, where Asgard's salvaged art treasures were kept. Lofn and her twin Sjofn, who were in charge of preservation, display, and upkeep, were both all too happy to educate you on what they were. Sjofn had just finished cleaning and labeling a collection of Nornheim knives, very similar to your own. You could see the shift in shape and handle style that had occurred over the years of war with Asgard.

They were all made of nornbein, with stone handles, though many of them had been engraved with the names of the Asgardians who had claimed them. Yours had not. In comparison, your knife, with its lance-like blade and cylindrical handle, was clearly from the latter period of Nornheim occupation, while the earlier knives were more leaf shaped, with flattened handles. You wondered how many hundreds of years those changes represented, with rock trolls carefully shaping the blades to their preference, and picking their favorite stones; blue and green, gray, violet, white, banded, and your own pink ruby, to carve into handles. Did the color and type mean anything to them, or had it just been personal preference?

These knives all represented Asgardian lineages which had died out, with no one left to inherit the blades. It was a sad collection to look at, as sad as where the knives had come from in the first place.

Lofn had templates from past Asgardian fashion designers, arranged on an enormous poster board, and carefully glued down flat. As you watched, she affixed strange little clip-like devices at all four corners, and at regular intervals along each side.

“They are useful storage and protective devices.” She explained. “We can make them from Midgardian materials too. You see, when activated, they form a protective field.” She tapped each of them in turn, and they lit up, covering the huge poster board in a very slight, almost imperceptible glow.

“It is protected now.” She announced. In a swift and startling movement, she grabbed one of the newly cataloged knives and stabbed the board with a ferocious growl. You jumped back, even as the blade bounced harmlessly off. She laughed as a glaring Sjofn snatched the knife back. “You see? It cannot be harmed. We protect our precious things in this way.”

“It has another use too.” She grasped the edges of the poster board and squeezed them together. To your amazement, the entire thing-easily as wide as you were tall-shrank to the size of a sheet of paper. “Look, do you see?”

She touched the field and it reacted like an electronic tablet, magnifying and moving across parts of the board, so you could see the details up close.

“You see, don't you? You see?” She asked.

Your gaze shifted, away from the fashion poster, away from the knife collection, to a work of art that had caught your attention earlier in the year. An artwork that wore the same preservation devices.

Ymir's Dreamscape.

“You see.” Lofn said.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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