#her defence is faltering | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pseudowho · 2 months

Text

Calamus et Gladius

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Stolen from a foreign army to participate in the Culling Game, speaking little to no Japanese with just a rifle for self-defence, the reader partakes in a bittersweet dance of death and love, with Higuruma Hiromi.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lovers, murder, use of firearms, the desperate smut of two traumatised people who fall hopelessly in love.

This is long, but I make no apologies, because the payoff is worth it.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You were used to violence. You were used to senseless bloodshed. Used to rains of bullets, flinging shrapnel, your ears ringing with explosions and screams.

Yet, it was your own screams that rang through you, as an enormous gavel split the earth where you had just stood.

Your entire unit was dead, almost fifty men and women lured into Tokyo Colony One, and you scrabbled back on grazed hands, kicking feet, as this ink-haired monster stepped slowly through the rubble and gore, black eyes fixed on you with the rage and fervour of a justified killer.

He appeared to hesitate only briefly as your face crumpled up at him in tearful rage and despair, desperation. You did not move to grab the rifle on your back; a threat of retaliation would be your downfall.

Despite being the only one of your unit who had had something new, something alien awakened within them, you had developed no fantastical technique. You had no mystical weapon. You had no roiling blue flames engulfing your fists. You had only the ability to sense others like you, and the horrifying stop-motion beasts that now sullied your sight. It was enough, at least, to hide.

"Please-- please--" you begged, the last attempt of a cornered woman. Your back pressed against the wall, the wide street around you a no-man's land of rubble, overturned cars and bloody splatters. The man's hand tightened on his gavel, his other raising to swipe flicks of black fringe off his forehead. He frowned, stopping. You noticed his distinctive hooked nose, crinkling in disgust.

"English," he offered, thickly accented, neither a question or a statement. You gulped, nodding with urgency, any dialogue an opportunity to re-establish his humanity.

"Innocent," you insisted, hands raised in front of you, disarming, "I'm innocent." That word, the man seemed to recognise, and he blew air through his nose, snorting in mirth.

"Innocent?" He asked, sarcastic.

He knelt down in front of you, his eyes still offering no mercy, but he spoke to you so conversationally. He reached one long finger out, tapping the rifle on your back, coming back round to stroke you teasingly along the side of your cheek, holding it so tenderly. His words washed over you, meaningless, until you caught one you could understand as he stood up.

"...sorry." His arm raised, the head of the gavel blocking out the sun, and you took your chance.

Your hand darted, and you flung a handful of brick dust into his eyes as he spat, staggered, cursing. You brought the butt of your rifle round to slam into the side of his head, and although he barely faltered, you ran for your life, darting down alleys, your heart bursting in your ears.

You heard no footsteps chasing you. He could have...but he didn't.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Just one easy kill.

The others had all gone down so hard, Hiromi thought, stepping into his swing, barely missing the foreign woman, the gavel making a buckled crater in the tarmac instead. Hiromi tsked, annoyed, kissing his teeth. Watching her squirm on the floor to save her life, a worm from a bird, Hiromi's gut churned-- ugly.

Murder was so easy. The power to beat scum at their own game was intoxicating. Hiromi stepped after her, so far removed from his old self. His usual self? He wasn't sure.

His keen eyes built the woman's character, hawkish and unforgiving. Young...naive. Soldier...killer. No Japanese...lazy. Pleading...pathetic. Not fighting...coward. By the time she began to beg Hiromi, she was already barely human in his eyes. Swiping his hair upwards, and tightening his grip for the deathblow, he spat, "English."

She caught his eye, and Hiromi felt the barest seed of guilt in the back of his mind, an itch he could not scratch. She had nodded at him, tears brimming in her eyes, hands raised in placation.

"Innocent," the woman had insisted, "...innocent." Bile rose in Hiromi's throat at the familiar word, and the audacity she had to use it for herself, as if she wasn't rolling in the same pigshit as the rest of them. Hiromi's lip curled, smirking as he rubbed his nose with the side of one long finger.

"Innocent?" He stabbed. Hiromi knelt, talking at you as if you understood.

"What's that? You're the good guy, are you?" He mocked, reaching out to tap the rifle on your back, feeling you flinch beneath him, "Is it this, that makes you innocent, hmm?" He brought his hand to your cheek, stroking it with the blade of his finger, swiping away the tears that had cut a track through the dust and grime, "Or this pretty face, hmmm? Are those big, teary eyes what make you innocent? Don't make me laugh. You're scum, just like the rest of us. And natural law is at play here." He cupped your cheek once, squeezing it with the barest of sincerities in his apology as he stood.

"Sorry," Hiromi offered, lifting his gavel and feeling power churn through him, just and righteous as your executioner.

Hiromi cursed as he felt a spray of grit flung into his face, immediately disarmed by the sordid pain of sand in his eyes, further disorientated by the ear-ringing slam of something into the side of his head. He staggered, faltering.

"Oooh, you piece of shit," Hiromi cooed, vicious, spitting with venom, vision completely obscured as he tried in vain to clear his eyes. He felt you disappear, and he leaned against the wall, laughing despite himself at having been bested. He smiled, the barest tinge of admiration for your tenacity threading through him.

"Alright," Hiromi sniffed, rubbing his nose again as his vision began to clear, "catch you later, I suppose."

Hiromi tried to forget you. He tried to forget his humanity, but each life he took made him sicker, infected by this game.

Every time he closed his eyes, to sleep in some strange home-less, love-less bed, your eyes met his, impeaching him.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Resources soon ran thin, for one who held no territory. You had your army pack, and rationed out your meagre foodstuffs, always hungry, always on-edge. You had never fought alone, in war.

You had managed to develop quite the skill at hiding, and concealed yourself, cloaked in plain sight, from even the most powerful of those left in the game. Every day that the stragglers were picked off, the stakes ran higher. Every explosive battle you ran from, dodging the falling debris thrown by titans, you felt your inherent value as an easy kill increasing.

You thought of the hook-nosed man who had let you go. Despite his willingness to kill you, you craved human contact, and found warmth in the memory of the heat of his gaze, his hand on your face, desperately trying to translate the words he had spoken to you as he caressed your cheek.

One dewy dawn, you had taken position on a sheltered rooftop, giving you equal measures concealment and oversight. With your rifle drawn, flat on your belly, you felt the ebbs and wanes of a familiar power draw closer. Curiously, it made your belly clench, eager to see the man who could have chased you, but didn't. You were itching to know why. Itching to behold him again.

Your heart leapt as he stepped into the street, at least four stories below you. Even from this distance, you could see the intensity of his furrowed brow, the noble bearing of his shoulders beneath a great black overcoat. His tie hung, dishevelled, loose-knotted. He was hunting.

He paused, tiptoed on a breath...before rolling, gracefully dodging as a knife of Cursed energy ricocheted through the street, splitting it. You gasped, your eye moving away from your rifle lens, watching in awe as he took to battle with another man. While he seemed to hold his own, he appeared distracted, and was buffeted, winded by an almighty hit, knocked onto his back, elbows on the ground.

A strange panic overtook you as your hook-nosed man's assailant bore down on him, power surging, preparing to murder--

-- a gunshot. A brittle, echoing bang. The assailant's head snapped forwards, and he fell, killed instantly, face first on the ground in front of your hook-nosed man.

He panted, his face sprayed with blood. With a few owlish blinks, his eyes tracked upwards. You held your breath, adrenaline coursing through you. As the man stood, eyes fixed on you (in rage? murderous intent? thanks?), you jolted to life and took aim on him.

He did not raise his hands. There was no standoff, as he made no move to save his own life. In the moment that he accepted his death for the attempt he had made on yours, something in you both softened, seeing each other as you saw no others. A gentle impasse. The intimacy of differentiation.

It took everything you had in you to break eye contact, and run.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi mulled beneath the shaky warning of your rifle.

You were afraid, he thought as he gazed up at you, so sickeningly grateful for having been chosen by you. The mist of his opponent's blood drifting through the sunrise, picked Hiromi out as somehow preferable, in your mind.

And, why should you not be afraid? He saw you beneath him, again, your eyes soft and begging him for mercy. You had been defenceless and entirely in his palm. He had been relieved, he recalled, that he could kill someone easily. The begging made you passive. Hiromi could have vomitted, sickened by himself.

He stood, arms raised slightly to his sides, his profile illuminated by sweet morning sun, waiting for death to take his hand.

Hiromi felt embraced by your eyes. Wanted. Some companionship, in death...until you refused him his end. The red string between you both seemed to snap as you broke eye contact and ran.

Alone, as the sun broke above the skyline, Hiromi whispered; "Thank you."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

There was no way out. Starving and desperate, days had passed since you had saved your hook-nosed man, and you had crept through haunted streets to a convenience store, unusually well-stocked with food and drink.

You bit your tongue for your own stupidity at having walked into such an obvious trap. No amount of being able to hide one's Cursed energy could compensate for being seen walking into the shop. Crouching now, behind shelves of ramen, tears trembled on your lashes, an aching lump in your throat.

You heard a mocking voice, cooing at you, laughing at you, and you blushed with indignant tearful injustice, not needing language to know when you were being assaulted for your sex. You were afraid of death. You were more afraid of being used beforehand.

With nowhere to hide, and no grit to throw, you tipped your head back and thought of those black embering eyes, holding you in his gaze.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Are you hungry?" The voice chirped, teasing, mean, "Come out, baby. I've got something here in my pocket you can taste." A filthy laugh. Slow, easy footsteps. Willing to rape you before he killed you. Hiromi felt himself burn with fury, ready to wring this man's neck with his own two hands.

Hiromi walked the streets easily, now. His power had come on in leaps and bounds, and he both trusted in his own abilities, and feared nothing of death. Not since you had held his life in your hands, and thrown it straight back in his face.

He was a disordered eater at the best of times, but, a sudden faintness from hunger sent him seeking food. Hiromi knew some dirty little spider had built a web at an abandoned store, and did not fear a man who sought to ensnare the desperate.

Let him try me, thought Hiromi as he approached, lit by the sickly orange glow of streetlights, and see where it gets him.

Just a few steps from the entrance, Hiromi paused mid-step, his heart hiccuping in his chest. It was you. Inside the store, your Cursed energy faltering and so overwhelmed by that of the spider. Hiromi's lips parted, to call for you, a hand in the dark. He stopped, gritting his teeth. No-- this would not do, he thought, as he began a hunt of his own.

The spider was so obviously distracted by excitement, thrilled to find a woman in his dirty little trap. He had found you, by the time Hiromi reached you, in time to see you flung, body smashing against the counter, curling and coughing. Hiromi stepped behind the spider, seething, overburdened with terrible strength.

You had looked up in time to see your hook-nosed man wind an arm round your assailant's neck, throttling him, dragging him backwards out of the store. The hook-nosed man's face was twisted, ugly with rage...and for what? For you?

If your Cursed-energy had been no match for that of your assailant, his was dwarfed by that of your rescuer. Still coughing, doubled over on your hands and knees, you crawled to the entrance, watching the streetlights flicker above your hook-nosed man as he choked the life out of your assailant, merciless in his conviction.

You knelt there, drinking in his profile, in that sickly orange glow. His sharply squared jaw. His black overcoat, shrouding him like Death itself. Panting and cursing as his arms shook, your assailant fighting weakly beneath him. Choking the life out of a man, a murder most intimate. For you. Killing, with his bare hands-- for you.

Time hung in suspended animation in these small hours. Your rescuer sighed, the tension releasing from his shoulders as he knelt back on his haunches. He appeared devoid of guilt, at having carried out his sentencing. Slowly, as if fearful of what he would see in your eyes, he turned to you, kneeling in the doorway of the shop.

Your eyes met. You studied each other in silence. He had a way of making you transparent. You had a way of making him exposed. His panting slowed, palms flush to his thighs, offering you a cautious smile, as your eyes glimmered in the dark.

"English," he spoke, by way of greeting.

"Nose," you returned. He frowned, uncertain.

"N..?"

You reached up to stroke your nose, and repeated, with a smile; "Nose."

His hand reached up to mirror yours, realising, and he burst into laughter, rich and genuine. You blushed, burying your face in your hands as he continued to laugh. He wiped his eyes, fingering the hook in his nose again, looking at you with those deep embering eyes that wholly undressed you.

"Nose," he repeated, chuckling, "Subarashī." Your bit your lip in mirth, looking anywhere but at him as he tried to catch your eye again, mischief twinkling in his.

Hiromi stood, stretching his shoulders back with a husky groan, tipping his neck from side to side. He stepped over to you, and you felt, ridiculously, so teenagerish as the odd duality of your hook-nosed man made your belly twist. You saw a long-fingered hand enter your line of sight. You looked at it questioningly. The fingers wiggled in invitation.

With a shaking hand, you took his. He pulled you up and smiled at you, swinging your hand briefly in his before releasing it, waiting for you to step into the shop before he followed. You browsed for food, as if Saturday-Night-Snack-Hunting as a couple, in safe silence.

Shivering as the adrenaline wore off, your stomach clenched with terrified nausea to hear explosions, shouts, drawing ever nearer in the street outside. Your hook-nosed man looked up, hangdog eyes wide, flicking from you, to the street, and back again. He gritted his teeth, bundling packets of food into the pockets of his overcoat.

You found yourself manhandled, his heavy coat suddenly on you. Your rescuer's hands moved deftly, smoothing the coat across your shoulders, searching for words, irritated by his intelligence in one language and his stupidity in another.

"Cold-- hungry-- go," Hiromi pressed in broken English, spinning you as you protested, urging you through the back door. You turned in the doorway, your eyes begging him to...what? To go with you? There was no time, no time--

Hiromi materialised his gavel, and crouched, snarling at you: "GO!" He roared, steeped in regret as you sprinted away, guarding your life like a child.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Your hook-nosed man began to leave you breadcrumbs; tickets to safe havens, food, shelter, beds. You felt the vestiges of his Cursed-energy wherever you followed his trail, haunted by the path of devastation he left to build you sanctuaries.

Your dialogue budded, and combined with his notes and signs, you began to learn more about him. His notes, secreted away in scrawled English, street signs flipped to point in alternate directions, and crude maps drawn on dust-caked windows, all added colour and life to him.

Hiromi took a little joy, his cold heart popping to life, at the little hearts you drew in the dust; signs of acknowledgement, a tiny thrill.

You found yourself drawn to a bookstore, and scoured the shelves, looking for a particular something, a matching pair. You found hints of him in the pockets of the hook-nosed man's overcoat; a business card, in Japanese. A handkerchief, curiously embroidered with two gold initials-- H.H. A set of housekeys with a key-finder fob. A pair of chewed pens. You still thought of him as "Nose".

Hiromi still thought of you as "English", as he caught himself differentiating you from the others. Still steeped in this depression, this black-dog-misery and ugliness, he saw you, a light in the dark, who hid yourself to protect yourself as well as others, from needless violence.

They were all ugly...except, perhaps, for you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You sighed as you slipped into the hot bath, water up to your chin in the great, deep basin of this luxury hotel. You were impressed there was still a hot water supply, and you felt a gleeful coil of naughtiness, knowing you would never usually be able to afford to stay in such opulence, all marble tiles and gold taps.

Fighting for survival did not negate the fundamental craving for little joys, and you took advantage of the selection of complimentary soaps, scouring yourself free of grime with happy hums. You sang to yourself, quiet in the evening hush, just you and your languid splishing--

-- oh. A cautious approach. A familiar power. You clasped the lip of the bath, sinking your body under the water.

"...hello? Nose?" You called out. You heard the click of a lock, quick feet stepping in, locking the door behind him. A single held breath.

"...English?"

You blushed, pressing your lips to your knuckles, white from how tightly you gripped the bath. Hiromi's cheeks prickled faintly, hearing soft splashes from the bathroom, seeing your clothes discarded over the bed, your rifle leaning against it. You cleared your throat, wanting to talk, not knowing where to start.

"Mhm." Hiromi smiled at your little squeak, sitting with a groan and creaking knees, his back against the wall beside the bathroom door. Separated by this thin wall, he reached a hand around the doorway behind him. You giggled to see his long fingered hand offer you a jaunty wave.

"Konbanwa, English," he offered. He jolted to feel your little hand, warm and wet, squeeze his. His thumb grazed over your knuckles, smooth, examining, probing in a way that made your belly tight. You reluctantly released his fingers, humming in thought as you reached out of the bath into your backpack, searching for something.

Momentarily, Hiromi felt something gently tap the side of his head around the bathroom door, and he giggled, a noise which made you paddle your feet in delight. He reached up, taking a Japanese-English dictionary and phrasebook from your hand.

"Ahhhhh!" Hiromi hummed, genuinely thrilled, "Yoi aidea." He skimmed through the book, hunting again, and you paused, listening.

"Good idea!" He stated, confident, and he squirmed to hear you laugh at his janky pronunciation. Hiromi wanted so dearly to see you, to know you were uninjured, and instead scoured his little book again.

"Hurt?" He asked you. You softened, responding automatically.

"Ah...no, I'm...hmm," you flipped through your own book, "...uhm...daijōbu desu?"

Hiromi hummed, satisfied. You talked this way, for some time, gently brushing the outskirts of each others' language and personality. Hiromi corrected you. You corrected him. The bath grew cold. The light began to die behind the windows, casting you both in deep shadow and amber glow.

At some point, in the conversation, your hands had trailed together again. Hiromi now leaned sideways against the wall, his cheek pressed against it, eyes closed as his fingertips grazed the inside of your wrist.

You lay in the bath, shivering, feeling your heartbeat between your legs from such an innocent, intimate touch-- except, it did not feel innocent in intent. Perhaps, that was what made you squirm.

"Stay safe," Hiromi whispered to you, his fingers drawing circles on your palm, his next word crumpling your face with barely restrained tears, "Afraid."

Hiromi bit his lip in anguish, eyes squeezed shut to see you in his mind's eye, so desperately touch-starved as you pressed a kiss to his palm. He felt your lips remain, nose ghosting against his pulse. He imagined those lips on his own, and he was filled with an anxious need to taste you, to lift you from the bath, wrap you up in the bed and his arms, safe.

Fully distracted by thoughts of you and your sweet cries beneath his body, Hiromi almost missed you holding out your book to him, pressed open at the start-- and a name, your name, written neatly on the page. You offered this, all the while wanting to step to him from the bath, and offer him the feel of those clever fingers, examining the rest of your body.

"Oh..." Hiromi whispered, reverent, squeezing your hand as he swiped his thumb over the faint imprint of your written name, repeating it aloud slowly. Hearing him speak your name, almost had you climbing out of the bath and into his lap. You closed your eyes, imagining him crying it out as he peaked, buried deeply inside you. You burned with the urgent need to know him.

Just a few seconds later, Hiromi's hand reached round the corner, offering his own book back to you, with his own name written in your own alphabet, jolted and square.

"Higuruma...Hiromi?" He hummed, happily.

"Hiromi," you repeated, and he hummed again, delighted by your name on his lips. You tucked your dictionary away, thrilled, reaching for a towel.

"It suits you. I love it." Hiromi understood just one word you had uttered, and it sent joy creeping down his spine. He pressed his forehead against the wall.

Pull yourself together, Hiromi, he thought, it's just loneliness and desperation. Nothing else. No amount of logic and self-chastisement stopped his mouth from moving independently of his mind, as he flicked through your dictionary, imbued with your name.

"Bed. Stay. Please." Silence. Hiromi pressed the corner of the dictionary to his head, cursing himself under his breath. Idiot, pathetic little moron, stupid--

"Yes."

Hiromi's stomach swooped, missing a step, hearing you climb out of the bath. You steeled yourself, blushing furiously, to wrap a towel around yourself and pad out to the bedroom. Hiromi turned his back to you, but not before seeing the graceful curve of your leg, the wet cleavage of your breasts, the towel barely skimming the tops of your thighs. He breathed slowly, clawing back his self-control as you dressed behind him.

A long, slow whistle, belonging to neither of you, broke the silence, and your blood ran with ice water.

Voices spoke, Hiromi spitting threats, in this language that still gatekept against your understanding.

You jacked sideways, still topless, seizing your rifle as Hiromi demolished the doorway with a single wide swing of his gavel. You heard laughter from the corridor, and you hurriedly pulled your top and Hiromi's overcoat on, fixing your rifle on your shoulder to take aim.

Hiromi backed up to you, wrapping one arm behind himself and around you, fingers splayed against the small of your back. You understood none of the venom spat between Hiromi and this hidden assailant.

Your nerves on a knife-edge, you sensed movement behind the shattered brickwork of the doorway, and fired, a deafening blow in this enclosed space. A spray of blood and an enraged shout through the drifting plaster-cloud saw you hit your mark, and Hiromi exclaimed, shocked and delighted, squeezing your waist.

"I've seen better shots than that from her, bastard" Hiromi warned, "and if you think she's easy prey, you've got both of us to take down."

"Hiromi," you gasped, hyperventilating, "Hiromi-- Hiromi--"

Silence through the room; Hiromi's ears rang. He pocketed your dictionary, and grasped your cheeks, eyes fixed to yours and wordlessly reassuring you as he turned you towards him from the doorway. You felt your heart bounding in your chest, hands loosening on your rifle as you drank him in, breathed the same air, panting, together--

--it was all too fast. Hiromi's eyes fixing behind you. His panicked shout. Being thrown sideways onto the bed, a glassy smash, a scream that may have been your own--

Hiromi and your hunter plummeted in an outward spray of glass, two inky blots fading into the night.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You had searched so desperately. Nothing could assure you Hiromi was still alive. There were no breadcrumbs left in the dust; nil but blood, and so much of it, beneath the shattered hotel window, so many stories up.

You had run your hands through it, clotted with the rubble, needing to feel him within the grisly spill-- alas. Too many residuals passed over this land. Too many battles fought, too many lives spent and saved, for clairvoyance to be what repaired your fractured heart.

You steeled yourself. Adversity goaded you to try harder. To do better. You took to the hunt yourself. You amassed points from potshots, hidden in curious places to execute nasty little opportunists who sought dominion over the weak.

While you had had no experience of the Kogane-- the odd, winged shikigami which acted as an interface between the players and the game-- in your passive state, they now became regular visitors, updating you of your points total. You had assumed they could not speak your language-- you were wrong.

Witnessing, from afar, one day, another player asking Kogane a question, your stomach rolled with nausea and hope as you called the black-tailed beast to you.

"Kogane?" The creature appeared with a pop. Your mouth opened, and closed, faltering over your words.

"Kogane, is-- is Hiromi Higuruma a player in the game?"

Silence-- and an answer; "Higuruma Hiromi is a player in the game--"

All of the air left your lungs in an enormous gasp, a heaving cry of relief as you doubled over, your hands cupped over your mouth and nose, tears streaming down around your fingers, before the Kogane had even finished giving its report.

"Thank you-- th--thank you, Kogane," you sobbed, blinded by your own tears. This tiny demon, to whom manners meant nothing, hung impassively. It disappeared with a pop as you spun away, cloaked with conviction.

You turned on a pinhead, cocking your rifle ready, and stalked off through the ruins; all of your steeling wisped away like ashes, your heart on the battlefield, knowing your vulnerability was out there, alive.

You decided now, with a smile at the thought of those beetle-black eyes, to hunt not for business, but for pleasure.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Hiromi felt the damp all the way to his bones, in these heavy, wet clothes, made heavier still by the excruciating weight of his crimes. The theatre door swung closed behind him, and he leaned his back against the wall, crouching, the palms of his heels pressing so hard into his eyes that he was blinded by lights.

He had fallen beyond salvation, and it gnawed at the rotten wood of him, eating him alive. Feeling his brain judder, his tie too tight, the walls too close, the silence too deafening, Hiromi tried to collect himself. He pressed his palms to his thighs and breathed; in through his nose one two three four five and out through his mouth one two three four five.

Feeling his heart rate slow, full of equal parts light and dark, Hiromi called out into the gloom, straightening slowly.

"Kogane." The creature appeared with a pop, waiting, patient. Hiromi spoke your name, and then, hesitant--

"...is she a player in the game?" A heartbeat. Two. Three.

"Confirmed--"

Hiromi did not hear the rest, buckling to his haunches with a primal cry of gratitude, and a few moments of dry sobs as his fingers raked through his hair. Chest heaving, he breathed again, one two three four five, one two three four five.

In the space taken for one breath, Hiromi decided not to find you. You, who had always chosen not to fight. You, whose pleading eyes still haunted him. You could not be sullied by his rot.

Hiromi stepped out into the night, a porcelain man checkered with cracks, seeking only to rebuild a world worthy of you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

He's here.

Climbing the stairs, fine piano music rang distant, its notes bittersweet, cherries in kirsch. Your feet carried you unbidden and you ascended, the notes becoming sweeter, feeling him, closer, playing this Siren's song.

Stepping into the doorway of the skyline bar, he must have felt your approach. The lights were low, refracted through a hundred hanging glasses, a hundred under-lit bottles of vim and vigour. The room sprawled out in an expansive, long C-shape, and your heart stuttered to see Hiromi at the end, pale fingers moving across the piano, white-shirt-shoulders burdened by the weight of his song.

You felt him build in the music as you approached, each note demanding more of him, and more and more and more and more--

There was only the briefest hitch in the music, barely perceptible, as you slid onto the bench beside Hiromi. He did not look up, his mouth set in a grim line, his eyes pressed tightly shut.

Consumed by the need to feel his skin on yours, you reached out, your hand ghosting over his. In a flash, Hiromi's hand darted up to grab yours, fingers tangled, as his other hand continued to move, playing this bisected song. A few moments passed, this way, with Hiromi pressing his lips and nose to your knuckles, his face contorted, conflicted-- pained.

"Go," he whispered, breath fanning over your hand, "bad."

"I...I don't--...bad?" You turned towards him, to hold him, and he jerked, twitching away from you, and you felt your heart tug along with him.

"No. Me. I...am bad." You shook your head, more and more fervent as Hiromi twisted away from you, quietly cursing, husky, tortured. He tried to release your hand, and you refused, plaiting your fingers in his, steadfast in a way that filled him with an animalistic urge to appreciate you.

You turned from him, your other hand resting upon the high keys, pressing gentle, uncertain notes. Overwhelmed by your closeness, and your insistent faith in him, Hiromi softened to watch your profile, backlit from the liquid glow of the bar. Your small hand, moving softly over the keys. Your heart beating like butterfly wings in your throat.

"No. Not bad. Lost. Lonely. Sabishī."

Every moment of belief you handed him, pulled Hiromi closer to the light. Swallowing thickly, he brought your joined hands to the keys, laying his palm over the back of yours, overlaying your fingers with his own. He pressed, soft insistent touches, on your fingers, guiding them to play. You felt your belly coil with odd pleasure, captivated by Hiromi's hands, all at once gentle and rough, smart and instinctual--

"Hiromi--"

"No. Stop." Hiromi tensed, his voice rough, fraying alongside his self-control. His hand shook over your own, the notes stopping now. Heat burst through you, certain he felt it too, this dangerous need, and his name forced its way out of you again, a challenge.

"Hiro--"

Hiromi spat venom again, growling and cursing as he stood, lifting you by the waist, sitting you upon the keys with a spray of notes, his arms shaking as they pressed beside you, trapping you in. Nose to nose, his breath on your lips, his face twisted with fury and need, Hiromi whispered to you.

"Stop. My name--" Hiromi shook, on his last thread, half a step away from using you--

When your hand snaked to his tie, tugging him closer, your other hand sinking into the back of his hair, Hiromi snapped.

His lips pressed to yours, hot and hungry, his body closing the rest of the distance to be flush between your thighs. Your mouth opened to him, feeling his urgency as he drank down your stolen breath, one hand tilting your head back to consume you, the other dragging through the plush rolls of your belly and hips.

Every kiss was hot and anguished, punctuated by Hiromi's low rolling voice, not needing language to feel the fervour and vice on his lips-- "--won't be gentle-- I'm sorry I-- I can't--"

You insisted your understanding on him the only way you knew how; fingers working his tie off and draping it round your own neck, locking your legs around him to press his aching cock against your core, undoing his shirt in a desperate flurry, all notes and fingers and tongues and moans.

You tasted rum in his mouth, all spice and brown sugar, and his hand wandered to your throat, feeling your pulse there before tilting you backwards, arched against the hood of the piano. With your head rested back, he spoke to you, shirt now unbuttoned to his navel, cock straining against the material below a trail of black hair.

"--making a mistake to let a monster put his mouth on you, English-- let's see what sounds you can make." Your khaki t-shirt was pulled off over your head, where Hiromi let it catch around your hands, twisting it to bind you. Hiromi kept you gripped this way, leaning over you, caging you in as he gripped the cups of your bra between his teeth, yanking them down to free your breasts.

Hiromi shuddered and moaned, feeling a drop of pre-cum soak into his boxers, as he flattened his tongue over your nipple, rolling, tasting, pulling you between his lips, nuzzling from side to side like an animal. You mewled, jutting your hips involuntarily, and Hiromi pressed back, pleasuring you with rough, sharp thrusts against your clothed pussy.

Hiromi leaned back, releasing your nipple with a hard suck, gazing down at where he fucked himself against you, mesmerised by the way you shivered and humped against his cock. Unabashed, his words falling over you like strange-eyed constellations, Hiromi fucked you with his voice--

"--cum like this, and I'll give you my fingers...cum like that, and I'll give you my tongue-- fuck, I'll eat you alive, you fucking goddess--"

As Hiromi spoke, all twisted rage and growls, his hips slammed into you, spurred on by your squeaks and whimpers, gripping the fat of your hips to ram your core against him. The pleasure was brutal, all harsh fabric friction and Hiromi's unrestrained adoration, and you tried to hold yourself together as you were dragged to orgasm, your frantic hands pressing disjointed chords on the keys beneath you.

Hiromi wanted to, needed to cum like this, with you, knowing he'd be able to continue fucking you after until he collapsed in your arms from exhaustion. Pausing only briefly to reach into his boxers, and angle his angry, throbbing cock upwards so the bulbous tip pressed between his waistband and belly, Hiromi's eyes rolled back in unadulterated ecstasy as he continued to fuck you against him.

You were both close, having been unfinished even by yourselves for weeks, and Hiromi's eyes burned into yours, feral with the need for you to finish with him, feeling your thighs tense around him as you babbled, fully understanding your meaning behind the nonsense--

"--gonna cum-- please-- Hiromi-- harder--"

You pressed back against the piano, arching with a high-pitched cry as hot pleasure burst through you, from your deeply aching clit outwards, crackling through your fingers, all white-hot sparks and embers. Watching you convulse against him, angling his hips to rut his trapped cock tip, feeling his thighs and belly set alight with the force of his orgasm, his hands planted either side of you, back twitching as he came with a bark.

Still riding the last waves of your orgasm, you watched him in fascination. The sight of Hiromi's cum spurting in long, white ropes onto his navel and yours, his agonised, fractured gasps, had you humping against the underside of his cock again, dragging out your peak to hear him whimper, cock twitching against your core. Your hand drifted to his belly, stroking the cum between your fingertips in a blissful haze, squeezing a thumb under the foreskin of his exposed cockhead, stroking his slit with his own lubrication.

Hiromi convulsed and growled at you, clasping your hand against him, dopey and shaking as you drank his reaction from his eyes, thumb still circling his cockhead, slippery with his seed.

"St--st--aaaaahhh..." You shushed Hiromi's weak cries, grazing your tongue over his lips, delighted as he twitched in your hand, weak little spurts of cum oozing onto your fingers. Hiromi let you continue like this, for a few seconds, before wrenching your hand away, plaiting your fingers into his own and nuzzling into you furiously. His heart leapt to hear you giggle as he bit into you, still to desperate, everything still not enough to take away this pain and this filth and this misery--

His other hand wandered down, stroking down the rolls of your belly, pinching, nails grazing, digging in all the way to your belt, undoing it with military efficiency. Not bothering to undo the button, he yanked down the zip instead, giving him enough room to manoeuvre his hand between your skin and the fabric, shucking your underwear aside to cup the wet heat of your pussy in one long hand.

Dipping his hand out to collect the cum off your belly, he thrust his hand back inside against your pussy again, teeth gritted and bared as he drank down your reactions now. He was satisfied to see the playful glint in your eyes flicker, your eyebrows raised in shock and overstimulation, teeth sinking into your lip as he rubbed your clit roughly, cum-sticky fingers rubbing broad strokes side to side across it.

"--two can play at that game, sweetheart...feels good? More? Harder?" Hiromi pressed you, in these words you didn't understand, and laughed, darkly satisfied as you wiggled beneath his hands, one hand resting lightly on your throat as you tried in vain to scoot away from him, your breath releasing in airy whimpers.

"No answer?" Hiromi moved his fingers faster, harder, your pussy squelching with your mixed cum inside your trousers, feeling you writhe beneath them, "I'll decide for you then."

Hiromi urged your orgasm to build, faster and harder this time, teeth gritted as he dragged you to the edge, growling into you as his tongue flicked roughly over your nipple--

"--come on-- know you can do it-- I'll go as hard as you like, come on, good girl--ah, there-- good girrrrllll..." Hiromi softened his movements, fingers undulating against your pussy as he pulled another orgasm from you, moving one finger from your throat to dip into your mouth, shuddering as you sucked it around your cries and whimpers.

Hiromi felt his cock beginning to stir to life again, and he committed you to memory like this, draped over the piano, wet breasts heaving, his seed dripping down your belly, eyes glazed, body supple.

Another word, that he did know in English, slipped from him, as he dropped to his knees before you, worshiping at this otherworldly alter in the moonlight; "Beautiful."

You blushed, voice catching in your throat as Hiromi smiled up at you, soft and captive in his sincerity as he unbuttoned your trousers, easing them, with your underwear, gently to your ankles, and off. Feeling suddenly so exposed, so flawed, you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt Hiromi grip your ankle with such tenderness, pressing a long, languid kiss to the delicate bones on the inside.

"English," Hiromi called, beckoning you back to him. You shook your head, blushing, eyes still closed, and he insisted. "English, please--" your eyes opened, uncertain, and Hiromi hummed in satisfaction as he began to kiss his way up your inner legs, "--beautiful."

Sighing and leaning back, one arm over your eyes, your heart bursting with the oddity of having fallen in love like this, you felt safe behind your language barrier as you spoke without a filter; "Oh, Nose. I love you. I really do."

Hiromi paused, stunned and ecstatic, his lips still on your inner thigh. He shocked you both, at how quickly his grasp of your language had come along; "And I love you, English." Hiromi chuckled with genuine glee as you clapped your hands over your face, mortified. Hiromi nuzzled into you, wickedly playful, but soon overtaken by this violent urge again--

"And...I love--" you squealed as you felt Hiromi force your thighs apart, sinking his tongue and nose quickly between your folds, groaning as he tasted the heady mix of his and your cum around your clit. His cock, almost fully hard again, throbbed, tightening his waistband as the blood rushed to it again. Hiromi reached down, releasing his cock with a sigh.

He took his time, lifting your thighs over his shoulders as he lapped at you, dipping his tongue into your entrance, tasting you, teasing you. You leaned, watching him again, and he looked up at you, hooded eyes burning as he nuzzled his nose against your clit, and held his own cock in his hand, stroking slowly. You felt jolts of voyeuristic pleasure, watching him masturbate himself to the taste of you.

"I...I like that," you whispered to him, your hand moving down to graze your nails against his scalp. You watched Hiromi like pornography as he shuddered, his cock leaping in his hand, your eyes fixed intently on his hand gliding up and down his length as you felt your pleasure beginning to crescendo yet again.

"More, I--" you moved your hand in the air as if you were the one stroking Hiromi's cock, mimicking faster movements, "--faster, Hiromi." Hiromi hummed in understanding, groaning sandy little groans into your pussy now as his hand sped up, jacking himself off harder, feeling your pussy clench around nothing beneath his tongue as you watched him, your keening cries getting higher and higher until--

-- you came again, trembling with the fluttering soft pleasure of your third orgasm, thighs clamping around Hiromi's head as he sucked your clit gently between his lips. Hiromi panted, gripping the base of his cock, delaying his high, fingers wet with more pre-cum, desperate to drag you to the floor and finish using you.

Pulling his mouth away, his hands trembling on your thighs, Hiromi's face was unreadable as he looked at the floor. Standing, dishevelled and sweating, looking up at you with feral hunger, his cock still twitching in his hand, you could see the barest vestiges of Hiromi pleading you for permission, with those exquisite dark eyes--

All it took from you was a nod. Hiromi pounced, wiry arms deceptively strong as he lifted you, legs locked around his waist, nose nuzzling against yours, teeth nipping your lips with a rumble. Hiromi whispered his mother tongue against your mouth, reaching out one hand for his overcoat, and tossing it into the floor, before laying you on your front, sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade with bruising force.

"--you're beautiful, and you're good, and I don't deserve you-- fuck, I need you now, I--I need--"

Hiromi panted above you, barely restraining himself from slamming into you immediately as he looped an arm round your neck and chest, pulling you up and forcing your back to arch. Ghosting his nose over your ear, he whispered your name, making you shiver and squirm, certain you'd break unless you felt him inside you soon.

"Ready, English?" You trembled, nodding, head tipped back as his cock grazed against your slippery folds. One hand cupped your arse, stroking softly, before slapping, Hiromi captivated by its plush jiggle against his fingers, how you cried out, how your skin flushed so deliciously.

Not holding back, Hiromi slammed into you, one forearm planted to the floor while the other restrained you against him, cupping your breasts in one squeezing hand. He shook, cursing, his teeth in your shoulder, as he felt the tip of his cock kiss your gummy walls, feeling your pussy clench around him in shock.

Prone, hands clawing at his overcoat, Hiromi felt enormous inside you, so swollen and plush after waiting to be filled for so long. You whimpered, resting your head sideways against his clutching bicep, feeling the muscle tense and jump as he rammed into you at a relentless pace, still speaking husky reassurances to you in his native tongue.

"--rest, just-- keep still and let me hold you, I-- I can't slow down anymore--"

Feeling simultaneously used and protected, caged in like this for him to chase his own pleasure, your breath came in ragged gasps, both hands now clutching the forearm across your neck and chest, head swimming with the instinctively blissful fullness of his cock, tightly sleeved within you. You felt your belly jolt from the force of Hiromi's thrusts, and pressed up towards him, proud to hear him moan in response.

Hiromi fucked you with abandon, needing this release, needing to shed his sin and worthlessness, his heart leaping to feel you fall apart beneath him. His hips began to stutter, strength abandoning him as his orgasm approached, moaning deep breaking moans in your ear, nipping, holding your neck in his teeth.

His legs buckling beneath him, Hiromi cried out in bliss, his arm shaking around you, hips flush against your arse, cock twitching long, hot spurts of cum inside your walls, feeling you pulse around him, sucking him in. You revelled in the glorious feeling of him twitching deep inside you, your belly hot and clenching as his seed seeped out between your clenched thighs. Hiromi lay above you, panting, pressing soft kisses into your hair, using his arm to roll you sideways with him, covering you both with his overcoat.

With his arm beneath your head, the other lazily stroking the curve of your waist and hips, Hiromi laughed lazily behind you.

"You love me, English, hmm?" Hiromi laughed again as you clapped your hands to your face.

"Stop, Hiromi, stop--" you cried, blushing all the way to your toes as he squeezed you closer, "-- or I will shoot you." Hiromi lifted his head, peering mulishly at you, one eyebrow raised. You scowled, pointing to your gun, and then at him, and he gasped in mock horror.

"Ara ara," he rumbled, teasing you in alien words, "so violent when you're meant to be happy."

You remembered these sweet small hours the most, after the horrors that came. You remembered lying in each others' arms, sticky and teasing. You remembered sneaking to the bathrooms, splashing each other at the sinks as you cleaned up as best as you could. You remembered laughing as Hiromi cursed, trying to clean the residual cum off your clothes. You remembered Hiromi calling for you, afraid, anxious, before you ducked back up from behind the bar, your arms full of snacks and drinks. You remembered lying beneath the piano, gazing out across the city, flicking peanuts at each other, sharing slow, lazy kisses. You remembered naively seeing a future between you, a happy life with none of this unthinkable chaos.

It was your fault, you cursed yourself, vomiting and wracked with sobs, staggering away from the devastation. If you had been able to develop your power, and pose a real threat, Hiromi wouldn't have been burdened with such a liability.

Lost in each other again, nose to nose beneath the piano, your instincts had kicked in just fast enough to kick Hiromi away, saving his life as the floor between you both split with dreadful electricity. A strange-haired, wild-eyed boy burst through the room on a voltage, bottles smashing, the floor splitting, your rifle disappearing into the chasm as Hiromi shouted for you, urging you, ordering you-- you were sure, to move, to run, to save yourself and leave him.

You could do none of them, your military training meaning nothing to this god. You could do nothing when Hiromi stepped into his path, defending you, fighting tooth and nail. You could do nothing as the floors split beneath him, dragging them down in lightning flashes, horrifying rumbles. You had fled from the collapse, leaping flights of stairs one at a time, possessed by some strange force. You had not felt Hiromi again. Powerful though he was, you could not see how he could walk out of such a fight alive.

Putting all the dregs of your energy into hiding, refusing to let Hiromi's sacrifice be in vain, you cried yourself to sleep, nose in Hiromi's overcoat, his cum still cooling between your thighs.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Each day merged into the next. Time had lost meaning. While you had the urge to fight before loving Hiromi, to have loved and lost him broke you and the future you may have had. The battleground was no place for someone such as yourself now. You cursed the injustice of it all.

Cold, dirty and exhausted, your head rested sideways against an industrial bin, praying the rain would wipe your soul clean.

You had translated his business card, with your little dictionary--

Lawyer. Higuruma Hiromi, Criminal Defence Lawyer.

Knowing this detail of his life, a sweet overlay of understanding dawned upon you, his character suddenly so understandable, his anguish shooting through you like knives, and all too late, too late--

"...English?"

Your head jerked up, to the end of the alleyway. Silhouetted, dripping in the rain, bleeding and bruised but impossibly alive--

Your face crumpled, pressed into your wet sleeves, shaking. Slow splashing footsteps approached you, Hiromi kneeling in front of you, a hand coming out to graze through your hair.

He opened your dictionary, dusty and bloodstained, before flicking to a dog-eared page;

"Found you."

#jjk #higuruma hiromi #higuruma smut #higuruma angst #higuruma fluff #higuruma hiromi x reader #jjk hiromi #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi smut #higuruma #higuruma x reader #higuruma fanart

670 notes · View notes

slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 2 months

Text

Don’t worry about him

Summary: Derek makes a comment about you being too clingy and it upsets you more than you’d like to admit

Word Count: 1.5k

Fluff, kissing, slight self doubt?

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Reader pov:

“Are you like glued to her? If my girlfriend was that clingy I could not cope, it’s like being suffocated surely!” Derek taunted as he saw me clutching Emily’s hand on the jet. I instantly let my hand fall out of hers as I laugh it off with the rest of the team. He says stuff like this all the time, why does this one kinda hurt? Am I really annoying? Does Emily not like it when I hold her hand? Am I suffocating her?

Emily must’ve seen the slight falter in my features because once everyone was back in their own conversations, talking theories about the case, Emily placed her hand on my thigh and started rubbing it soothingly. I looked up to her already looking at me. Her brown eyes held a sympathetic expression, I gave her a weak smile and placed my hand on hers. I looked away and started listening to the others talking about the case again.

Time skip to when they’re at the local PD:

Emily’s pov:

I realised through the day y/n’s been pulling away from me, being more distant. I swear to god if it’s because of what Morgan. Anyway, we don’t normally have much pda out in the field, or at work because of keeping it professional obviously, but even when I graze my fingers over her back she’s pulling away. It’s not like her at all.

I walk over to where she’s standing looking through evidence and place my hand in hers.

“Hey you okay?” As soon as I finished my sentence her hand was out of mine already.

“Yeah, fine. Why? You okay?” She responded, sounding deflated.

“You don’t sound okay honey, and you keep pulling away from me.” I hold her hand again and this time she keeps hers in mine, that’s progress.

“Yeah I- uh just. Ugh it’s stupid. I’m fine I promise.” She put on a bright smile and stuck her pinky out in my direction, an adorable tradition of hers. I link my pinkie around hers and place a delicate kiss on her forehead.

“Okay, if you say so.” At that moment Derek walks in followed by JJ and Spencer.

“You still at it? You always this clingy y/l/n?” Jesus, read the room Morgan. She let go of my hand once again and hung her head.

“Hey leave her alone, just because you’re single doesn’t mean everyone else has to be miserable!” JJ teased, instantly jumping to y/n’s defence. I give her a look to say thank you as Morgan holds his hands up in defence. Just as he was about to say something else Hotch walked in.

“We have him. Everyone in an SUV now, Garcia sent the name and location to your phones let’s go!”

The drive to the unsubs house was, not awkward, but different. Y/n didn’t even spare me a glance, Derek was in the back so I didn’t dare reach over to try comfort her, he’d just say something again. I love him like a brother but sometimes he’s just so annoying. We begin to slow down and I look and see that we’re already at the place. We all get out of the SUV and make our way to the front, Spencer and Rossi take the back, me and y/n take the front door, Morgan took the left, JJ took the right and Hotch trailed behind in case anyone needed support.

We breached the front door and found the unsub holding a woman with a gun pointed at us.

“FBI! Mike McAllister put the weapon down!” I yelled as we got in his line of sight.

“You don’t wanna do this James, you’d be just like your dad.” Threatened y/n, a good move on her part.

“You take that back!” He screamed at us, his hands shaking trying to keep the gun steady.

“You’re no better than him if you do this. In fact, you’d be exactly what you made him.” The unsub looked between me and y/n after I said this. I glance towards her to make sure she’s okay, she looks back and silently tells me she’s fine.

“Oh, you’re gunna be sorry you ever said that.” The unsub warned through gritted teeth. He looked me dead in the eye, and then pointed the gun at y/n.

Reader pov:

The son of a bitch just shot me. What on earth? I was pushed back by the force of the bullet hitting my chest - that was thankfully covered by my bulletproof vest - winding me slightly.

I looked back at him after I hear another shot ringing through the house a split second after the first one did. The hostage had run to Hotch in the fuss and Emily had pulled the trigger. After confirming he was dead she came back over to me.

“Hey, are you alright?” Emily fussed as she placed her hand on my back, her eyes were darting all over me to check if I was okay.

“I’m okay- yeah I’m good.” I splutter out, still a little out of breath. She gently pulled the bullet shrapnel out of my vest and ushers me outside to go see medical to double check everything.

As we were walking there em kept putting her hand on my but I just kept shrugging her off. I didn’t want to be clingy or needy just because I was mildly injured. Especially since Morgan was walking up to us.

“Damn you okay?” He asked as I sat on the edge of the ambulance.

“Yeah fine, I’m fine.” I say while removing my vest. I could tell Emily wanted nothing more than to hug and comfort me right now but I don’t want to be clingy and rely on her, like Morgan said. Ugh I need to get him out of my head.

Time skip to when Emily and reader are back home after the case

I walk into mine and Emily’s shared apartment and put down my bag. I let out a big sigh and go to walk to the kitchen for a drink when I feel two hands on my waist that hold me back.

“Hey you.” She muttered as she gently pulled me backwards into her. My from now pressed against her back she spoke again, “What’s gotten into you today? You wouldn’t even let me near you after you got shot y/n/n. What’s going on?” She was lightly swaying us side to side as she spoke while leaving featherlight kisses on my neck and shoulder as her head snaked round the side of my own.

I shake her off yet again and turn to face her, “Nothing I’m okay I told you. I just do t want to you know, suffocate you by being clingy. I didn’t want to annoy you at work either so, yeah. Just after what Morgan said. I mean he was probably just being him but, it got me thinking that I probably do suffocate you and I’m really clingy I’m sor-“ It was as if she didn’t even want those two words to come out my mouth because as soon as Emily caught wind of what I was about to say, her hand came up to cup my cheek and pulled me into a sweet, comforting kiss. Our lips moved together and it was like her kiss was the antidote for all the anxiety I’d been feeling all day. As soon as her lips were on mine, I temporarily forgot all about what Derek said and how it got in my head.

My arms snaked around her neck and hers found home around my waist as she pulled me flush against her. She pulled away but just enough so that I could still feel her warm breath dan across my face. “Don’t worry about him. Morgan I mean. He doesn’t mean it, he’s just lonely, believe me. I love it when you grab my hand or lean on me. It’s comforting, for me and i’m assuming you too. My love, being clingy isn’t a bad thing and honestly you’re not even that clingy Derek’s just being a moody man who isn’t getting any. I love you so much honey please don’t let him get to you.” She kisses me again at the end of her speech. A much needed speech, that is, on my behalf.

I pull away and look her in the eye, trying not to stare and get lost. “Thank you em, I really needed that.” She just smiled and mumbled a ‘You’re welcome.’ As I pulled her into a bone crushing hug. My head fell into her shoulder and I mindlessly played with her hair as her hand ran up and down my back.

Screw Morgan’s stupid comments.

(A/N: I LOVE MORGAN SORRY FOR LOWKEY MAKING HIM THE BAD GUY BUT HES THE ONLY ONE WHO WOULD TEASE ABOUT THIS!!)

#wlw #lesbian pride #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #emily prentiss #criminal minds #wlw pride #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

269 notes · View notes

fandomwritingbit · 6 months

Note

Fem x reader with William Afton the reader murder someone by accident and he cleans up the body but he then uses that against her every chance he gets so he can fuck her

Yo this is a dark idea... delightfully dark though.

Hope this scratches the itch ;)

William Afton x "killer" fem reader

warnings: smut, blackmail, coercion, murder in self defence, Will is an implied practised killer.

“Just like that, sweetheart.” The man above you groaned, one of his hands tangled in your hair, you knew him well enough now to know exactly what he likes and it shows. How he loves it when you look up at him from down there on your knees, biting your lip. How he’ll let you tease him with cute little kitten licks on the head of his cock, but only to a certain point. He makes you work for it and you hate to admit that you like it more than you should.

You hollow your cheeks and take him as well as you can, the pressure from his grip and his length making tears spring in the corners of your eyes. Your hands come forward to push against his hips and he lets up just a little, smirking when you hum your gratitude, the vibrations of your voice just delicious.

His hand guides your movement and you swirl your tongue underneath his shaft to earn his patience. You know by now that if you’re not his perfect enthusiastic fuck bunny, he’ll take it out on you later. So you suck him as good as you can, using your hands to stroke his base before sliding one down to his balls, the light pressure making his end raise its head out of nowhere. Moaning as you sense the change in him, and trying not to think about the growing warmth between your legs. Not that you can help that, it's a subconscious association now.

You know he’s close when the grip on your hair becomes more dominant, holding you still whilst he fucks into your throat. His pace quickly falters because your hot mouth feels too good around him, stuttering completely when he cums, his release warm as it coats your tongue.

He just loves the power that he has over you, how you’ll hop down to your knees to serve him happily, because the alternative scares the hell out of you. So you’ll let him use your mouth and your greedy little cunt, pretending like he doesn’t know your darkest secret. It’s blackmail, and he knows it, and maybe he would feel guilty if you didn’t enjoy it so much.

It's no use trying to say no to him, or trying to change his mind. Everytime you so much as hesitate in response to him and his demands, he forces your mind back to that awful night. The night your relationship with William Afton changed.

It was hot that night, you remember it well because it made you scrape your hair back just to stop it sticking to your forehead as you went about your work. The heat made people flock to the diner and the place thrummed with bodies and their warmth. Nothing was amiss. You were doing the closing shift that night, and come 9pm were just desperate to finish your tasks and get home, but of course people kept lingering, ordering more and more, ‘keeping you busy’ or ‘helping you get your steps in’ as they like to say.

It was bad but not out of the ordinary, until one of the men inside became a problem. He’d been creepy all night, asking you your name, how old you are, if you have a boyfriend etc… You stuck to your one word answers, not being rude but not obliging either.

Then it was catching your arm as you walked past, jeering and complaining when you pulled away. That was enough for you and you spoke to your supervisor, getting someone else to serve him, so you didn’t have to feel uncomfortable.

Except that wasn’t enough. You were walking out towards the kitchen, an empty bottle in your hand that someone wanted chucking away, slipping through the staff door and down the dark corridor. Careful to give a wide berth to the customer toilets so you didn’t get hit by doors flinging open. When without any warning a strong grip on your shoulder made you spin around, a rush of adrenaline filling your entire body that only worsened when you recognised the man who’d been harassing you all night.

“Let go of me.” You said, your voice pinched with panic as you were alone back there. It was still firm enough though, and the bloke’s expression turned sour.

“Come on, you’ve been avoiding me all night. I only want your number.” Despite his innocent enough claim, the grip said otherwise.

“I said. Let. Go.” You tried to pull away but he yanked you forwards, your body coming into contact with the wall behind you was a feeling you’ll never forget. Your struggling wasn’t enough, so you used what you had at your disposal: the bottle. Swinging it hard, fuelled by adrenaline, into his face. The glass bursting in your hand upon impact.

The action wasn’t conscious and it only dawns on you when you feel blood pouring out your palm, an achingly sore feeling spreading through your hand. Then you look at him. He was also bleeding but so, so much more. A shard of glass as big as your fist sticking out of his neck, his hands raising uselessly to try grasp it, but hardly getting near before he collapsed in front of you. Body crumpling to the floor in the most uncanny and haunting manner.

You must have stood there for a few minutes before you realised what you’d done.

And then, your boss left his office. The low light level made him question what he was seeing, but when he saw your face ravaged by terror and guilt it was a certainty. You just killed that man. And that sight was much too familiar.

“Y/n… What have you done?” His low voice was the only thing that snapped you out of your trance, it was close to a whisper, hissed at you from between his teeth. You look at him, your face aghast and tears streaming down your face. Unable to speak, you just watch as he walks towards you, a cold and detached look crossing his face.

“I…” You hardly recognise the thin, flimsy sound of your voice, you sound fragile, if not already broken. “I didn’t mean… I-I don’t know how this happened.” It takes a long time for the words to leave you and when they do they’re interrupted by a sharp and desperate intake of breath. You glance at your boss momentarily but your eyes are fixed on the pool of blood spreading across the tiled floor.

William places two hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look away and towards him. His touch was sobering and you looked at him in disbelief. “Listen to me. Did you do this?” The way he spoke made it seem like he was talking to a child.

You can only nod, burying your face in your hands. He chuckled then, somewhat in disbelief; how on earth should he react? Well, he should call the police, give them the footage and say goodbye to one of his prettiest employees. But he could use this…

As if reality only just dawned, you began babbling, talking nonsensically, desperately trying to tell him what happened and how this wasn’t your fault. Stumbling over the point of not calling the police repeatedly, fear making you fixate on the possibility. He let you for a moment but cut you off quickly.

“Shut up.” He spoke very firmly and you obeyed instantly. “It doesn’t matter… Do you want to go to jail?” You shake your head in response, biting your lip to try and keep the tears in. It’s that expression that seals the deal. He is going to use this to have you.

One of his hands comes up under your chin and firmly cups your jaw, and you gasp at the quiet strength. Breathing shakily when his thumb presses against your lips. “Then you won’t. But, if I fix this for you, sweetheart.” You stare mesmerised as a breathtaking grin cuts into his face, “Then you owe me.”

And fix it he did. You helped him, not that you had a choice, to carry the man- corpse down the hallway and into a parts and service room. From there he took charge, instructing you to clean the mess, inhumanly explaining the need for cold water to wash the blood out of your clothes, and bleach for the floor. After you did so and returned, there was nothing to be found, the body was gone and you daren’t ask him where it was. Truth be told you didn’t want to know.

Once everything had been taken care of you started crying again, the emotions catching up to you and corroding your entire system. He watched you for a while before moving close to you, smirking at how pathetic you looked, shivering with emotion like a kicked dog. “It’s taken care of, y/n. It’s fine.” Again he talked down as though you were a small child.

“I- I know but… I can’t just… I feel-” He cut off your sobbing by taking your hand and your gaze snapped up to him.

“You’re shaking, sweetheart.” He strokes the back of your hand, the intimacy of it making goosebumps prickle your skin. “Let me guess, you feel dulled. You feel like you’re not yourself anymore because you wouldn’t do that.” You stare at him in confusion, that's exactly how you felt. “Well, love, you fucking did it. That emptiness is hard to live with. But I can help you feel something.”

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #fnaf william afton #william afton x you #fnaf movie

357 notes · View notes

sodamnradd · 4 months

Text

4 times Draco & Hermione flirt with other people + 1 time they admit it’s driving them spare.

So Draco’s flirting with some hyper-blonde at the bar. So she’s draped all over him. So he just checked out her tits—Literally nobody could care less than Hermione does.

“It’s fine,” she says, steering Ginny to the opposite side of the bar. “We hooked up once. It wasn’t serious.”

“Yeah, but we all thought he was obsessed with you.” Ginny scowls in Malfoy’s direction. “Harry says he can’t shut up about you…” Her voice falters, and Hermione follows Ginny’s gaze to where Draco’s unlatching the woman’s arms from around his neck. His eyes are locked firmly on Hermione.

“Granger.” He slips beside her moments later, casting a swift kiss on her cheek. “You came.”

He laces their fingers together, pressing his chest to her spine, and whispers into her ear, “Dance with me,” breath tinged with firewhisky.

Ginny rolls her eyes as Hermione downs a quick shot of tequila and lets Malfoy lure her away.

Hermione shrugs and mouths, “We’re having fun.”

“Isn’t that wanker fifty or some shite?” Draco lowers his spoon, watching Hermione on the opposite side of the canteen, giggling like she’s drunk on Amortentia.

Harry says, “Apparently the term is ‘Silver Fox’. Something to look forward to in a few decades, I suppose.”

“I didn’t realize that’s what Granger’s into.” Draco pushes his tray back, appetite gone.

Harry snorts.

“What?”

“She’s into you, you know.”

He’s desperate to prod Potter for more information, but he’s only slept with Granger twice, so they’re not serious. Explosive doesn’t mean serious, right? That’s what makes it explosive. That enigmatic ‘what if?’ hanging in the air during each encounter.

Draco looks on dejectedly, wondering if he’d prefer exclusive over explosive.

Seven times.

They have slept together seven times, and Draco is still acting like a total wanker, training that new Auror like it’s perfectly dignified to put his hands on her waist to adjust her posture. The girl is blushing so hard Hermione’s suffering from second-hand embarrassment just witnessing it.

Who can blame her? She knows how it feels to be trapped beneath the weight of that intense gaze. She also knows what they look like at the peak of climax. He looks at Hermione with more heat. But there’s no denying the glimmer of interest as he teaches the trainee basic self-defence charms. Damn him.

She slams the gymnasium door shut without looking back.

You can’t have breakup sex if you were never even together, right? But Draco swears there was something final about their last time.

Granger’s face is usually brimming with emotion, but once he helps her off the kitchen island, she goes cold. Detached. All the fire from their eighth time vanishes, and Draco is left wishing for something he thought he already had.

The next evening, she shows up to Potter’s birthday clutching Goldstein’s arm.

What the actual fuck? Is she sleeping with him, too? On the grand spectrum of Ministry blonds, what a prosaic downgrade.

Their eyes meet across the dinner table.

‘Meet me upstairs?’ mouths Draco, gut twisted a hundred times over.

Hermione hops onto the bathroom counter as Draco locks the door behind them.

“Why are you here with another bloke?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the door.

“Why are you flirting with trainees?” she fires back.

“Why are you chasing Silver Foxes?”

Heat crawls up Hermione’s neck. “Who taught you that?”

“Am I not good enough or something?”

“Clearly it’s the other way around.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Draco straightens out. “I can’t get enough of you, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Yes, but I’m not the only one.”

“But you are.”

Hermione pauses, flabbergasted. “You’ve been flirting with other people while you’ve been sleeping with me.”

“So have you.”

“Only because you were.”

“Because you were.”

“Oh my Gods.” Hermione huffs out an exaggerated sigh. “This is going absolutely nowhere.”

“You’re right,” Draco replies. “We’re making no progress, you and me.”

Hermione nods, sadness creeping into her eyes. “I guess that’s that.”

“What? No.” Draco steps forward, blanching. “Do you really mean that?”

“I don’t know. What else is there?”

“Exclusivity,” suggests Draco, point-blank.

“You don’t want that.”

“Says who?”

“Your reputation.”

“I’m pretty sure the entire office thinks I’m obsessed with you.” When Hermione doesn’t respond, having heard that rumour herself, Draco clears his throat and adds, “They might not be wrong.”

“Were you really only flirting with other people because I was because you were?”

He takes a second to reflect, but ultimately shakes his head. “I have no idea what you just said, but how about it? You and me. No trainees. No silver foxes.”

“No hyper-blondes at bars.”

“Course not,” he replies, pretending like he knows what she means. “And no dirty blonds at dinner parties.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Draco grins, stepping forward to seal the deal.

Later, Draco’s relieved to discover exclusivity is just as explosive as the enigmatic ‘what if?’ Better even, because Granger is finally, without an inkling of doubt, his.

(854 words, cross-posted from twitter)

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #dhr #dramione drabble #drabble #sodamnrad #sodamnraddrabbles

318 notes · View notes

johnpriceslamb · 2 months

Note

hihi could u maybe do an arthur morgan x fem!reader??

i was thinkin about the reader being really upset about something and which arthur (being that kinda person) he noticed quickly, they walked to his tent for then the reader to be comforted by arthur morgan (he isnt good at comforting but he tries real hard,, take ur time ofc! we love u-🎀

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝔀𝓷,

❥ You’re sad. Arthur finds out and comes to comfort you.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 ! ꒰ female ! reader . hyper-feminine ! reader . reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than characters mentioned below . crybbie reader sorraiiii . Karen’s a meanie pants but she loves reader . 1.1k wrd count. ꒱

❥ Arthur Morgan x female ! reader

You’re sensitive.

You don’t mean to be, but sometimes you take what people say a bit too seriously.

It’s not a bad thing to be sensitive, but you’re in a gang. A gang filled with murderers, thieves, criminals, whatever. You’re prone to being teased and made fun of- even more likely due to your soft nature and demure figure.

Usually, you spend your time doing chores or assisting Pearson with cooking. What you lacked in strength and courage to be able to hold a gun, you made up with your skills in being able to feed the gang actual food, instead of.. the usual stews Pearson made.

From then on, you gained the honouring title of ‘Pearson’s assistant.’

Then again you’d much prefer being referred to your actual name.

“—‘n I’m just sayin’..” The woman in blonde stirs her spoon in the stew you made, mindlessly blabbering about.

Karen was a sweet girl, she really is. But sometimes, she enjoys talking. A bit too much.

“You ain’t really uh.. fit for all this.” She gestures to camp.

Ouch.

You shrink in the log you sat upon, meekly fiddling with the utensil in your hand. You get where she’s coming from, but nevertheless you still took it to heart.

“Karen!” Mary-Beth softly hits her upper arm, a scolding tone picks on, “C’mon, lay off it.”

She shrugs. “‘M just saying what everyone wants to hear. It’s like seeing a fawn amongst a pack o’ wolves.”

She’s blunt. You’ve known her for a while, considered her as a friend. And you knew well enough that she does not sugar coat things. You’re not sure if you should take what she said as a compliment or not, but regardless you still feel a bit embarrassed at the fact that you didn’t really fit in.

“H—Hey,” You feel yourself crumble at the fact that your tone took on a higher pitch as a defence mechanism and the stuttering which makes her point stand even more bolder, “I’m.. I’m trying, okay?”

Karen looks at you with a demeaning expression. That’s all it takes to shut your pretty little mouth up.

Then, she lets out a soft giggle.

“C’mon girl, y’know I was just jokin’. You just sit there and look pretty for us.”

You take this as an opportunity to leave, going on with your day but with a heavy heart.

You find yourself near the lake which is situated just right beside the camp, staring off at the distance with a long look. You know Karen was just playing around, but you still can’t help that little sharp pang in your heart.

You don’t notice the approaching steps from behind. You hear the sound of fabrics scrunching together as they squat behind you, a warm hand lays gently on your shoulder.

“Hey.”

You tilt your head upwards, eyes landing on the loyal enforcer of the gang.

“Hi,” You whisper back. Unconsciously does your head lay on his chest, and almost immediately do you feel better being in Arthur’s embrace.

His arms wrap around you, a gentle kiss is placed on the side of your head. He lovingly looks at you, cold eyes which softens at the sight of his sweetheart. It falters a bit when they see those pretty eyes glimmer in the light.

“Y’alright?” He asks with a tone of concern. His arms tighten at the sight of your vulnerability.

“Mhm.” You meekly nod, feigning your expression with a soft smile, “I’m fine.”

“Mm.” His upper eyelids cover half of his eyes. His expression was almost lazy, dog-like. “No use lying to me, sweetheart. Yer lips quiver when you do.”

You almost melt at how lovely his voice sounded.

“C’mon,” He gestures for you to stand up. He lends you a hand for you to aid yourself onto your two feet, a hand rests upon the curve of your hip to guide you to his tent.

“Where we goin’?” You ask shyly, leaning into his touch.

“My tent. We’re goin’ to talk.” He replies blankly.

You don’t say anything until you’ve reached his tent. He guided you to the edge of his bed, allowing you to sit. He sizes you up a few times, quietly admiring you for a moment before sitting next to you, knees touching.

“What’s wrong, hm? Why’s gotten my girl so down?” Your hand unconsciously grabs onto his to squeeze, fiddle around with. He wants to chuckle at your puppy-like neediness but forces himself not to.

“..Just some stuff Karen said.” You meekly explain, fiddling with his fingers, “Said ‘m not really fit for.. any of this.”

“She said that?” He says with a frown, scratching at his strong jaw.

“Mm,” You nod.

“‘Reckon she’s right.”

“Eh?” You almost pout at how immediate he was to agree.

“Hey, c’mon. I ain’t even get to finish. I mean, she’s right. You don’t fit in. You’re too good for any of this.” He explains himself, biting his lip to prevent himself from doing anything to you. Your eyes did a lot to him, unbeknownst to you.

“Way too good.” He mumbles, lovingly rubbing circles on your little palm.

“You really think so?” You ask with a shy smile.

“I know so.” He nods, leaning in to press a little kiss on your forehea. He leans back to peer at your face again.

“C’mon, I know you.” He sighs, “Don’t let Karen’s words get to your mind. Even if you don’t really fit in, yer still one of us now. Y’hear?”

You shyly nod. With just one nod down to his lap do you immediately crawl towards him, cuddling up to him like a bug in a leaf.

#fem! reader #rdr2 x you #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #afab! reader #arthur morgan x fem! you #rdr2 #arthur morgan x fem! reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan rdr2 #red dead redemption fanfic

320 notes · View notes

fieldofdaisiies · 2 months

Text

Of Wings and Secrecy

paring: adult!Nyx x Reader | type: angst | words: 3,4k words | warnings: mentions of abuse, violence | based on this request

“What a weak punch.”

You throw Nyx a withering glare over your shoulder, hands dropping to your sides. You really have to fight the urge to flip him off, and at the same time want nothing more than to kiss those formidable lips.

“Shall I demonstrate how it should be done?” His wings flare behind his back when he starts to stroll toward you, sauntering with nothing but cocky smugness, a grin on his lips.

Your little sister, Salia, next to you giggles, a mischievous smile on her lips. “I guess I‘ll leave you two alone then.”

She winks and before you can stop her, she is heading towards where Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta, Nyx‘s aunts, train a few young Illyrian females.

Salia is the only one to know about what is actually between the two of you — a bond, a mating bond, always glamoured to keep it hidden. But she knows about the mutual love, how and when the bond snapped, about your secret meetings and the dangers along with it. The dangers that prevent you from—

Your thoughts are cut off when you feel the hard and warm press of a solid chest against your back.

“A little higher.” His hands support your elbows, his lips brushing your earlobe. You fight against a shudder, and hold your breath.

“Not here.” Your voice is silent, hushed. “Someone could see us.”

“I’m only helping you train, my star.” A smirk appears on Nyx’s lips, but falters the moment he sees your scared expression after you have turned to him. The Night Court heir steps away, and bows his head.

You open your mental shields for him, holding his gaze. I’m so sorry, but it‘s too dangerous, Nyx.

Making sure no one is looking, Nyx moves in again, lifting your elbow with one of his warm and gentle hands, acting like he is explaining something. “Let me protect you.” He leans in the slightest bit. “Come to Velaris with me. Let me protect you.”

You turn away and pick up a sword. “You know I can‘t.” Straightening your posture and using one hand to smooth out your leathers you take a few steps back. “I can‘t leave my mother and sister alone.”

Nyx knows this, and yet the truth —the awareness about you not coming with him— sends a pang of hurt right into his heart. Your hearts belong together, so do your souls, and should never be kept apart. You had fallen in love with each other the first moment you lay eyes on each other. But life isn’t too kind to you, doesn’t allow your love to flourish.

Devlon forbids this relationship, threatens to hurt the once you love most. It has to be kept secret. Nyx promised you that with his father’s protection —with the High Lord’s protection — nothing would ever happen to you. And despite that sounding very promising, you couldn’t accept.

This is not solely about you. You have a sister and a mother who live here as well and they will be in danger. Especially if you go with Nyx or if your relationship —if the bond— becomes public.

Nyx moves in closer again, helping you position your legs a little differently. “I want to be alone with you.”

“Nyx.” A corner of your mouth tips up.

He raises a brow, twin flames of desire lighting up his blue eyes. “My late grandmother‘s hut?”

“Now?”

Nyx grins and turns you, so your back is against his front, always careful of your beautiful wings, acting like he is showing you some self-defence techniques. “Always.”

His body vibrates with passion, and it reaches you, fuels the need within your veins. You have been apart for so long. You have missed him. And you need him. Now.

—-

A loud giggle parts your lips and you shove at Nyx‘s bare, and solid chest. “I‘m sure I love you more.”

He kisses your shoulder and shakes his head. “Not possible.” His damp lips coast over your salty skin, tongue poking out. “My love for you is endless.”

“Well,” you breathe, “mine is endless and just a bit more.”

He tips his head up, gaze meeting yours and laughs. “You are impossible.”

To that you grin and chuckle. Your hand comes up and you stroke your thumb over his cheek, slowly, assessing him with your eyes. “You look tired,” you say with a contemplative look on your face.

“We‘ve been tangled in the sheets for the whole night, my star, I am exhausted.” The beautiful smile on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes and the corners of your mouth turn downwards.

“It’s because the glamour, isn’t it.”

He doesn’t want to say yes, but you can read him so well, so he silently admits, “I constantly need to use a lot of magic to glamour the both of us, and over a far distance when I am back in Velaris.”

You find yourself nodding, your heart hurting about the knowledge of what it does to him.

“But it’s fine.” He kisses your nose. “As long as the two of us have a chance to be with each other, I would accept everything.” Now, he kisses the corner of your mouth, hands falling to your hips, pulling you closer, the counter below your bare thighs, cool.

“I don’t want you to—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. But it is a kiss you can’t really focus on. You love him, you want to be with him — Cauldron he is your mate! But that doesn’t make this relationship easy. It only makes it hella difficult.

Nyx is a bit over 100, sooner or later he will have to take over as High Lord, you don’t want to cause him additional issues.

“You are distracted, my star.” His hand slides beneath your —his— shirt and he cups your breast, thumb pressing down on your nipple, rubbing. “Let me help you focus on us.”

Your curl legs around his hips, hoping that the press of his hard length against your core will really centre you in the moment. And it truly does.

You allow yourself to enjoy this moment with him, knowing it is fleeting and will be over way too soon and Nyx back in Velaris.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You cup the nape of his neck with your hand, fingers entangled in his soft silken strands, mouths colliding, teeth clacking.

“I love you—”

“Nyx!” The entrance door bangs against the wall of the hut, so loud even the mice in the smallest nooks can hear it. It feels like time stands still when Nyx steps away and whips his head into…the High Lord’s direction.

There is nothing but confusion and a hunt of shock etched upon Nyx‘s father‘s face, like he can’t really believe what he is seeing.

“I was looking for you.” The High Lord is not stuttering, but something close to it and Nyx, his cheeks a deep red, looks like he is wringing for the right words, all engines in his mind working on high speed.

“This is Y/N,” he finally says and adds, “And she is my mate.”

　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

“And the hating each other part…?”

“Fake.” A sheepish grin spreads over Nyx‘s face and he bites down on his lower lip.

His father chuckles lowly and shakes his head at his son. “When did this happen? The bond I mean. When did it snap in place for you?”

Rhysand still looks a little flabbergasted. Even minutes later when the three of you sit together on the couch, now you and Nyx fully dressed.

“Shortly after the Blood Rite. I went to congratulate her on becoming Arktosion, and well…our eyes met and the bond snapped.” Nyx turns to you and takes your hand into his, squeezing softly.

“That was nearly a year ago,” the High Lord expresses and throws his son an incredulous look. “You’ve been keeping your bond a secret for so long!?”

Nyx and you nod.

“You could have told us. At least your mother and—”

“We couldn‘t.” Nyx shakes his head again, then leans into you and kisses the top of your head.

Then he continues, “It would have been too dangerous. Dad, I know you. And I know mum. You would have wanted to get involved. You would have tried to talk to Devlon and we couldn’t risk it. Y/N‘s mother and sister are in his tight grip and—”

“If he finds out about our mating bond he will do unspeakable things to them.” Your gaze drops, voice so vulnerable and silent you hope the High Lord could even hear you.

He did, and his power stretches out, brushing you. “You will have our protection always. And so will your sister and mother. You can come to live in Velaris with us.”

You are grateful for this, really, but you cannot accept just yet. You will first have to talk to your mother and your sister. Explain everything to them. And you will have to catch them when your father is not home. And then you need to arrange everything and—

“Thank you so much,” you finally say and meet the High Lord’s gaze. Sitting here with him feels a bit surreal, considering who he is. But then you remember that you have been rolling around in the sheets with the prince of the night for the whole previous night and it no longer feels so odd.

Many times you have already asked him if you are truly good enough for him, for a prince, and he has always told you yes, then poked you or smacked your arm lightly to make his point clear. And then most of the time he kissed you. Or more.

“Really. Thank you much. For the offer. I will gladly accept but I need a little time.”

“Whenever you are ready,” Nyx whispers, but there is worry in his eyes. “You have time. Talk to your mother and sister and then you let me know how we will go forward.” Lifting your intertwined hands, he kisses your knuckles.

You sit together for a little longer, Rhysand wanting to find out a bit more who is tied to his son‘s soul by the mating bond and who has consequently stolen Nyx’s heart.

You open up easily to him, his kindness and love for his son, visible in every word he says. They are an amazing family and you feel very lucky to somehow be a part of it.

Only a while later, and when Rhys and Nyx truly have to leave for Velaris (the High now finally having found his son who had closed the mental to his father during the night he spent with you) you go back home to your mother and sister, hoping to catch them before you father gets home. But he is already there and so decide to wait a few more days, think about it, clear your mind and really form a plan. You have been hiding this relationship for so long, you can now also wait a bit longer.

Nothing is rushing you. You and Nyx will one day be together, that is true, and if one more day lies between you and him being ultimately together or not, doesn’t matter to you. Not with the prosperity of being with him and the knowledge that while living a life with him your mother and sister will be safe.

You will fill them in on your plan in a few days, when the time is right.

But you later find out that waiting was a fatal decision.

　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

“You want to leave Windhaven?” Your father raises a brow, and you vigorously shake your head. Your cousins leave the shadows behind you, closing in on you until they catch your arms. “You were going to leave us, weren’t you?”

“No, father.” Your voice is so vulnerable, why would I?

The door hasn’t even fallen into the lock when you knew you stepped right into a trap. Your mother and sister are cowered together in the corner of the room, shaking so hard you even see it from the distance.

You wiggle against their hold, but your cousins are just stronger, their nails biting into your skin, their silent laughter ringing in your ears.

“Letting your mother and sister alone to do all the work?” Devlon —your father— takes a step forward and this is the first time you see the tool in his hands. The same tool that was used to clip a female's wings. Your stomach coils, panic, strong and terrible, blazing through you. You feel how your knees start to buckle, but you fight against it.

“I wasn’t going to leave.”

“Bullshit!” Devlon shouts. “Do you think I am stupid. That I couldn’t detect this damn mating bond. The heir‘s powers are strong but not that stronger. The glamour starts to fade.” Disdain laces his features.

“Were you hoping to become a princess one day, huh?” He stalks forward and weighs the tool in his hands.

You want to growl at him but you keep your mouth shut.

“I need to disappoint you. Someone like you will never be a princess, and most definitely not a High Lady. You are a laundry girl and you will stay like that.”

“Father, I—”

The click of his tongue shuts you up. “Too late for silly apologies. It is not time to make sure you stay where you belong.” Darkness falls over his face, and he tips his chin. It is your cousin’s cue to move. They turn you and force your chest down to lie atop the wooden table.

He is going to clip your wings and there is nothing you can do against it. You are strong, but not stronger than the three of them.

The content of your stomach sours at the helplessness you are feeling, tears burning behind your eyes. But you won’t give him that. You won’t cry. He doesn’t deserve your tears. You won’t be vulnerable. You won’t be weak. And if he clips your wings, you will—

“Devlon don’t!” your mother cries out, but your father shuts her up with a snarl and a pointed, warning look into her direction. He steps closer and presses down on your back, forcing your face to rub against the harsh, wooden surface, some splinters definitely piercing into your skin, drawing blood. Your spine cracks and your shoulders ache from the angle your cousins are still holding your arms and you cry out in pain — it is just too much, you can’t hold it in any longer.

“It is her fault. She didn’t want it any differently. She brought—”

Devlon‘s sneer is cut short.

The main door bursts open with an impact that has the whole hut shaking, power so strong and lethal when it stretches out makes you aware that it can only be the High Lord and your mate who have arrived. You whip your head into their direction and a loud sob parts your lips.

Morrigan is also in tow, the first to move towards you and your father. “Hands off the girl! Now!” she growls, fury swirling in her hazel eyes.

It must be the shock, and definitely fear that makes your cousins step back, letting go off your hands. One of the stupid brutes even has the audacity to speak up and say, “He made us do it.”

But no one pays him any attention. Everything is focused on you, and the tool, the large clipping tool, positioned at the base of your wings and the male holding it. Devlon, despite stepping back, does not seem remorseful about his actions.

“Devlon.” Rhysand’s growl ripples through the hut and Nyx sets out to get to you as quickly as possible. He helps you up and pulls your shivering body to his chest. “I got you. Nothing can happen now,” Nyx whispers against your head, but you can’t quite focus, your attention on your father.

“What is going on here!” Rhysand demands and his lethal power fills the room.

But your father is not afraid. His face displays nothing but purely male smugness when he says, “Do you know about it, Rhysand? What they did?”

“That they are mates,” the High Lord answers matter-of-factly. He slides his hands into the pockets of his pants and pins the camp lord with a look.

Surprise passes over Devlon’s face – he hasn’t expected Rhysand to know. Thought, or maybe even hope, to catch him off guard and shock him. But quite the opposite is the case.

“I know that.” Rhysand turns to look at you and his son. “And I also know what you were about to do. What would have happened if we had arrived here any moment later.” Lethal calm graces each of his words, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You hold tighter onto your mate.

In the corner of your eye you can see that Lady Morrigan moves swiftly across the room, crouching down at the opposite side and throwing both her arms around your sister and your mother. She whispers something to them but you can’t make out the words

Your heart is beating so rapidly, nearly jumps out of your chest. Ragged breaths leave you and you feel lucky you’re holding onto your mate for support. You know you would fall to the ground otherwise.

“Your daughter is my son’s mate and that makes her part of my family. She is mine to protect.”

The High Lord’s power lashes out but before you can see what happens to your father, black mist swirl around, blurring your vision until everything is dark and you enter a state of oblivion.

　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

“No-o!” Your throat is too dry, voice hoarse and the shout that leaves your croaky. You re shaking, chest heaving rapidly, but when strong arms wrap around you and you are pulled flush to a solid, warm chest, every seems to ease.

“Nyx—”

“I am right here. With you.” His lips brush your head. “You are safe. We are in Velaris. Far away from your father, my star.”

Now there is no more holding back for the tears. The run freely. The damn breaks and they burst out of your eyes.

“I-I-my wings. He wanted to—” Your breath catches and you tio back your head, finally opening your eyes despite the stinging burn in them. “Mother. Salia!”

“Here as well.” Nyx appears in your vision and rests his forehead against yours, not giving you a chance to take in the room you are currently in.

He exhales softly. “They are all here and safe. And your father—” He swallows. “He is taken care of.”

He offers no more of an explanation and you also don’t ask. Because you simply don’t care. He can rot in Hel…

“Thank—”

He kisses you. And then the corner of your mouth. “Never, ever thank me for something like this. You are my mate. My love. My soon-to-be wife. You are mine and also mine to protect. I love you, my star.”

“I love you, my prince.” You smile through your tears and kiss him again.

After holding each other for a bit longer, Nyx helps you rise and you can finally see the room —his room— you are in and marvel at it. It is phenomenal and Nyx explains that it is your room from now on as well.

He helps you bath and get dressed and when all is done you join the rest of his family, of your family, in the kitchen for breakfast, embracing both your mother and sister tightly, holding on so tightly as if you never want to let go again.

“The nightmare is over,” your mother whispers, and the three of you start to cry.

You later learn that Rhysand that you are under full protection of them and your mother and sister were given a small house near the Sidra river to live in from now on. You can barely thank them enough, but High Lady Feyre reaches her hand out to you and says, “We have to thank you. For the reason for our son’s happiness.”

#nyx archeron #nyx x reader #adultnyx x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #acosf #nyx archeron x reader

211 notes · View notes

sam015 · 9 months

Text

Starting Anew

Part 2

Y/n, Y/l/n sat in her car, trying in vain to slow her racing heart. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, holding it until it burned before slowly breathing out. Her eyes flicked down to her watch. She was needed inside in five minutes. She had already been sitting in her car for twice that, trying to calm her anxious mind. Taking one final breath in through her nose before slowly releasing it through her mouth, she forced herself to open the car door, grabbed her keys and stepped out.

Walking around to her trunk, she grabbed her backpack before locking the doors and turning towards the entrance. Her hands were shaking at her sides, so she shoved them into the pockets of her shorts, not wanting anyone to see how anxious she was.

With careful control, she opened the front door and stepped inside. A few girls were loitering around the doors, most of whom she recognized, having grown up idolizing them. Leah Williamson, Caitlin Foord and Beth Mead.

“Hello, Y/n L/n, right?” Leah asked, extending a hand out towards the younger girl. Y/n took it, giving the captain a firm handshake.

“Yeah, nice to meet you,” she said with a small smile, trying to hide the nervous butterflies in her stomach.

“I’ll take you to Jonas,” Leah offered kindly. You softly nodded, not trusting your voice. Leah carefully led you down the hall and through the maze of hallways. She stopped a few feet from a door at the end of the hall.

“Thank you,” you said softly, smiling at the older girl.

“No worries. If you ever need anything, just let me know,” Lead offered with a slight grin. Y/n smiled at her in appreciation before deeply breathing and gently rapping her knuckles on the door.

“Come in!” Jonas’s voice called out. She carefully opened the door, making her actions deliberate so as not to reveal her nerves.

“Y/n, it's so good to finally see you in person. I’m excited to see what you will contribute to the club,” Jonas said, rising to give her a firm handshake.

~wWw~

“Everyone, this is Y/n,” Jonas said, gesturing to Y/n, standing beside him. A chorus of hello’s rang out from the team. Y/n nervously waved and said hello, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her anxiety rising under the scrutiny of the team.

“I’ll leave you guys to it. Remember on the pitch in an hour.” Steeling her nerves, Y/n walked closer to the team, joining their group. She stayed near the back, opting to follow and observe. Leah, who was usually at the front of the group, decided to stay back with Y/n. None of the girls knew Y/n personally, as before Arsenal scouted her, she had played in the US.

“You play forward, right?” Leah asked, racking her mind as she tried to remember what the few articles she had read said about the American player.

“Yeah, you play defence, yeah?” Y/n asked, although she already knew the answer. She had been watching Leah play for years and even owned one of her jerseys.

“What made you want to leave the US and hop the pond?” Leah asked, turning to look at the other girl. Y/n’s steps faltered. It was barely noticeable, but Leah picked up on it, Y/n’s eyes hyper-fixated on the ground. The pair had drifted farther back from the rest of the team, being briefly cut off as they turned a corner.

Y/n paused, being pulled into her thoughts. She closed her eyes, shaking her head as if to shake out the memories.

“I’d rather not talk about it. I’m sure you understand,” Y/n said, taking long steps in an attempt to catch up with the rest of the team. Leah following behind her. Y/n quickly joined the rest of the team. She stayed in the outskirts, uncomfortable with the close bonds that these women clearly had with each other. So she watched and sidestepped questions about why she made the change.

The hour passed quickly, with Y/n following her new team onto the pitch. Like before, she stayed on the outskirts as she laced her boots up.

On the pitch, Y/n was like a completely different person, something that was immediately evident to the other girls around her. Gone was the shy girl who stayed on the outskirts, listening rather than participating. While on the pitch, Y/n was a dream to watch, shouting words of encouragement and pushing her teammates up. Giving her full effort to every drill, regardless of how simple it was.

As the practice progressed, Y/n began to gain the other girls' respect, who knew little of her—giving her the blank slate she needed to start again. Their practice ended with an 11 v 11 scrimmage match.

Leah and Katie McCabe were the captains for the scrimmage. Y/n stood to the side as both captains surveyed the girls before them, planning out who they wanted. Leah went first, picking Catiln Foord. Katie then picked Beth Mead, and it went with Leah picking Y/n about halfway through.

Leah’s team took the pinnies considering Y/n still didn’t have any Arsenal training gear due to delayed shipment. The scrimmage started like any other, with both teams testing each other, looking for holes in their defence. Leah passed the ball to Y/n, who dribbled it up the field before shooting it towards the net, where it hit the post, bouncing out of bounds.

“Nice shot, Y/l/n,” Leah whistled, giving Y/n a high five. Y/n shrugged, feeling slightly disappointed but deciding to push the feeling down and instead embrace this time with her new teammates.

On the next play, Katie carried the ball down the sideline with Y/n coming up on her hard. Her cleats slipped on the grass, hurling her towards Katie, who instinctively jumped. Y/n barely caught Katie’s food with her shoulder, causing the other girl to lose control and turn, falling on her outstretched hand.

Katie screamed out in pain, and in an instant, everyone was around her except Y/n, who was still on the ground processing everything. Leah called the team Dr over to come to take a look at Katie. Y/n got to her feet, joining the other girls who surrounded Katie.

“Shit, sorry, Katie. My cleat slipped. I’m really sorry,” Y/n said. Katie glared up at her from where she was sitting on the ground, carefully cradling her right wrist within her left.

“Watch yourself next time, don’t be so reckless,” Katie snapped. Y/n nodded sadly, her gaze once again turned towards the ground. Taking a few steps back and separating herself from the rest of the team, Y/n watched as the Dr escorted Katie off the pitch and into the facility.

“Alright, let's wrap it up there!” Jonas called, “See you guys tomorrow.” Y/n watched as the other girls headed back into the facility, with no one even bothering to glance back at her. A pang of hurt shot through her before she pushed it down, doing her best to ignore it.

She carefully helped the trainers clean up from the session, leaving a ball out so she could do some individual skills. She grabbed her earbuds from her bag, turning on her music before going through her routine.

The repetitive movements brought comfort to her. These were things she had been doing since she was a young girl. Of course, the skills had progressed to more difficult variations as she improved, but the structure was always the same. It brought comfort to her. She could go as hard as she wanted, with only one person suffering. And in her mind, she deserved to suffer.

It was her first day with the team, her first training session, and she injured a teammate and Katie McCabe. She was such a failure. What Y/n didn’t notice was Leah watching her from the window, waiting for the girl to invite her to a team dinner they had planned to welcome her. As Y/n didn’t appear to be finishing anytime soon, Leah decided to check on Katie.

Katie was pissed, and while Leah understood why, she also thought Katie was overreacting a lot. It was an accident. It wasn’t like Y/n meant to hurt her. Luckily for Katie, and by extension for you, she had only minorly sprained her wrist. She wouldn’t miss any training or a few upper-body workouts.

Leah said her goodbyes to Katie as the Dr slid her wrist into a brace. She returned to the field where Y/n was unlacing her cleats. Leah waited at the door for you to come in, something she didn’t have to wait long for.

“Leah, what are you doing here?” Y/n asked, confusion filling your voice.

“You haven't seen the dressing room yet, so I figured I’d show you. Plus, we are having a team dinner tonight, and you should come,” Leah explained, leading Y/n through the halls toward the dressing room.

“Are you sure the girls want me to come after what happened during the scrimmage?” Y/n asked nervously.

“Of course, it was just an accident, only Katie is a little upset, but she’ll come around,” Leah said as she opened the door to the dressing room, allowing Y/n to enter first.

“This is your locker,” Leah said, indicating one on the far side of the room.

“Thanks,” Y/n replied.

“Here’s my number, text me, and I’ll get you the address. Be there for 6:30,” Leah said with a little smile, “See you there.”

Y/n sat down on the floor in front of her locker, staring at it. Her eyes passed over the blank walls. She reached into her bag, pulling out some tape and a few photos. She carefully taped the photos to the wall, leaving one under the rest, just like it had been in the US. Pulling her cleats from her bag, she placed them at the bottom of the locker along with a spare change of clothes.

#arsenal wfc #leah willamson #katie mccabe #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader

277 notes · View notes

fromabasementonthehilll · 9 months

Note

Hello! Can I ask for Nat x Fem reader? They are in the wilderness and Nat is the antler queen, just showering her pretty girl with love and protecting her. I NEED HER SO BAD SHES MY DAILY SEROTONIN SOURCE🥺 and maybe R tells Nat that she was and always will be her queen? Thanks xoxo

Antlers

͙⁺･༓☾ - Summary: ‏‏‎Natalie had been crowned, you ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‏‏‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎unknowingly drifted apart, though not for ‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‏‏‏‏‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‏‏‎‎‎‏‏‎‏‏‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‏‏‎long.

Pairing: Natalie Scatorccio x reader

Warnings: ...

note: sorry if it's a bit short, I ran out of ideas by the end 🫠

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

The wilderness had concord with its choice. You watched in disbelief, the crowning of your adored Natalie. Though the secretive disappointment from everyone had been evident, they eventually rested with the fact that they hadn't been chosen, and they kneeled. They kneeled willingly, enlivened to capitulate beneath her reign, and so did you. Gazing up at her with surrender in your eyes, you took her hand into yours, kissing it softly, your vulnerable eyes never leaving hers as she watched you with adoration.

The worship Natalie was rewarded with by everyone after the crowning was sickening, you knew it had to happen, and she deserved it - but vigilance lingered in you. All of a sudden she was surrounded in a craze of devotion, her time for you had seemingly dissipated and you were left stranded, your anger was a poison to yourself, and your submission to her wasn't an alliance with the rest. Natalie caught onto your dissonance, she had bathed in gifts and admiration from others, distracting her from you, and she regretted it.

Most of your time was spent either talking to Lottie, who was one of the only people you still got along with after everything went down hill, or you would sit in the attic with your sketchbook - drawing whatever came to mind. They were dull, insubstantial days. Natalie watched you from afar, glory overwhelming her with guilt. She knew exactly how you felt - as if she could feel the everlasting ache in your bones, so as you sat in the attic as usual, coming to terms with the new situation that made you admittedly uneasy, Natalie had decided to talk to you.

"(y/n)?" Natalie's tone stayed in the air for a moment as you sat with your sketchbook.

"Hey, Nat." It felt wrong to greet her so casually, after all, she was the Antler Queen, you had to show her respect.

"Look I'm sorry, I'm not ignoring you I promise." Her eyes faltered to the ground with a hangdog look, then back up at your sorrowful face. She'd act careful around you lately, breaking the spirit of her title as queen, and you desperately wanted to know why. "What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything," Your voice diminished slightly, admitting to yourself she really had no choice, the wilderness had crowned her and you acknowledged it. "I just need you right now, Natalie." You finished.

"I know."

Her steps were silent, as was the cold night that gnawed into your skin, though you felt it waver into thin air as she sat before you. Her eyes presided you, you fell victim to her power yet again. The look that survived amongst your and her eyes was like a dagger, a numbing to the pain you endured ever since the plane had crashed. Her caressing hands fell onto your face, a smile bringing sunshine to her otherwise despondent expression, "I really missed you (y/n)," she brazened the heavy moment with her shaky words, "I love you, you know that right?"

You just stared at her, letting her voice and words fall into your bleeding heart. It was days since she had said that, weeks, even. All you wanted was to sink into her, to fill the emptiness that was eating you alive, and so you did.

You leaned in, wintry hands finding hers. The passion that stripped you of your defence was dangerously alleviating, and she had been starved of you. Yearning for the taste of you; she pushed in, backing you against the raw oak wall with her brutal lips. You felt her young aching smile amongst her eager movement, and the crucifixion of your suffering had died in tranquility along with your doubts.

There were so many unsaid words floating around you and Natalie, but they were told with her actions toward you. It was different than before, this time she had an unspoken power over you, it was a dynamic you didn't question, though.

It allowed her to keep you from harm, your distaste to most of the others was made translucent to her, and she would take it upon herself to regularly check up on you, making sure you weren't upset, that you weren't hurt by anyone - she swore to keep you safe, cradled in her protection.

You'd often overhear people mutter cruel words, that you were selfish and sucked up to Natalie, once Natalie had come up to, "Are you okay?" She asked, rubbing your back as you sat on the porch, cold and hopeless, "I'm scared Nat, I cant do this anymore, it's too hard." She softly looked at you, as if she could look right through the winter snow and into your heart. She kissed you, reminding you of her restless love for you, and you believed everything would suffice, though just a moment later you realised that you hadn't noticed Tai, spitefully spitting her words out to Van, "Who does she think she is? She isn't entitled to any of this." It was a relief that merely the two saw you and Natalie.

You should've been hated there, the way she would treat you so delicately unlike the others.

One night you were making out in the attic, she seemed hesitant but wouldn't admit it - eventually she pulled away, giving you a melancholic look. "What's wrong?" Your face began slowly imitating hers, "Nothing, I guess, I mean I don't know." Stammering her words more than you'd ever seen before. "I just don't feel like I'm supposed to, (y/n). I know that I'm meant to like this, and it felt right at first but now it's just... off." Natalie crossed her arms shyly, backing away from you. "What's off?", you wished you could comfort her more, she was obviously disturbed, but your mind went to all the wrong things, to the point where you felt like breaking down.

"I don't feel like a 'queen', at all. I cant keep up this act, It's like I'm incompetent or something, I cant live up to my title, I don't want to disappoint anyone anymore." Her lips quivered with every sentence she spoke, your eyes traced her face gently while she gave you a glance of shame.

It felt like you could see the reflection of her soul in her eyes, like her skull was open and her heart was beating out of her chest.

"You haven't disappointed anyone, Natalie. Do you know how much everyone adores you?"

"But, do you?"

Her words felt like nails on a chalkboard, moonbeams shined onto her cruelly honest expression. How could she even ask you that? Were you that irresponsible that you had forgotten about her? It didn't make any sense to you, none of it did.

"Of course I do, more than anyone in the world," Your voice breaking into a heartful whisper.

"You'll always be my queen, Natalie."

Her mind seemed to leave the gut wrenching thoughts, she just looked at you with her newly hopeful eyes, shoulders falling back down into ease, you beamed helplessly as you watched her relax into your words; she couldn't help but love your smile. "You're gorgeous, (y/n)." Everything felt right, you spent the moment in silence, the kind of silence that only felt comfortable with her.

She didn't gratify the love she had for you to anybody else, it was just for you.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #nat x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets oneshot

303 notes · View notes

bussyslayer333 · 2 years

Text

Lay all your love on me

Summary: Jake has fallen for Penny’s niece working as a bartender at the Hard Deck for the summer. Too bad he doesn’t know how to show it.

pairing: jake seresin x penny’s niece!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of an age gap, j*ke being an asshat, pet names, smut at the end, am I forgetting anything??? pls lemme know! MDNI 18+

feel free to send me a message or ask with requests/ ideas pls <3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was the third time this night Jake had seen you talking to that scumbag hanging near to the bar top. What did he have that Jake didn’t? Girls didn’t even like short guys (said scum bag was an inch shorter but Jake would be damned if the world didn’t know). He had never felt like this before in relation to a woman, usually they were the ones pining for him from afar. It was a pathetic sight to see for the rest of the dagger squad,

“Seriously bagman who pissed in your beer?”

Jake looked up from where he had been perched against the pool table and scowled at Rooster, did he ever shut his mouth? Now his gaze had finally been diverted from you he felt a surge of anger as he clenched slightly too hard around the neck of his beer bottle.

“Just go talk to her, with some of that Texan charm hopefully she can look past how horrifically you bombed yesterday.” Rooster smirked into his Stella.

At the reminder of yesterdays occurrence Jake squirmed in distaste.

“Come on ‘bombed’ is a bit harsh,” Bob spoke back to Rooster in Jakes defence.

Phoenix snorted so hard into her beer that some shot out of her nose and Fanboy let out a squeal as the nose beer hit his arm, alerting everyone in the hard deck (and probably a five mile radius because damn who knew fanboy had pipes) of their group. Payback began to pat Phoenix on the back and coaxed her back into a normal state of breathing but not before you could turn and mouth “you okay?” To Phoenix to which she replied with a forced smile and a thumbs up which appeased you and allowed you to turn back to ‘scumbag’.

“‘Bombed’ is putting it lightly Bob, don’t coddle him.” Phoenix croaked, and Jake finally spoke up “Look I didn’t mean what I said, I know I fucked up, bad.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Last night…

You and Jake had been dancing around each other for for a while now, it marked the third week you’d been in Miramar as you had been banished to your aunts for the summer because your mother had insisted you get some sunshine before your last year of college. Spending three months surrounded by hot navy men seemed ideal to you and you had hoped it involved a lot of beach time but alas, your dear aunt penny had roped you into becoming her newest bartender after the last had quit after a run in with a piano, a tray of drinks, a man named after a male chicken and one rowdy cover of great balls of fire.

The game you and Jake played was simple, you knew he was a flirt, heard the stories from your aunt of his heart of gold but sluttish tendencies with civilian girls in town for the summer. You knew you couldn’t be one of those girls but god was he making it hard.

Jake strolled up to the bar where you were drying glasses with a rag and tapping you sandal covered foot to the pina colada song. He leaned on to the bar top and let out a low whistle.

“That a nice sundress Sweets, I didn’t realise we were dressing up for each other now,” Jake drawled raking his eyes up and down the ditsy floral sundress you had worn (admittedly for him but he didn’t have to know).

“In your dreams flyboy,” You scoffed with a smirk looking into his eyes. The wedge sandals gave you a small amount of height advantage but your eyes still had to wander upwards to meet his.

“Every night, doll.” Jake pestered you further

“Sweets or doll? Which one is it?” You questioned but he didn’t falter, he never did.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Jake whipped out the big guns expecting you to simper, “darlin’,”

You looked him straight into the eyes and couldn’t help but giggle,

“Seriously cowboy? How often does that one work? Got all the southern belles swooning I imagine?” You snorted watching a flicker of embarrassment twinge in Jake’s eye but he stayed strong.

Truthfully, that’s why Jake hadn’t given up on you, you were funny and clever (probably much more than him) and dished it right back when he was being obnoxious, which was something Jake admired so deeply. Sure he thought that you were beautiful but so would anyone, it started out embarrassingly enough with Jake wanting you to be another notch on his belt but he couldn’t deny his desire to know more than just what you looked like in his bed. He wanted to make you snort when you laughed too hard and not feel embarrassed about it, he wanted to be lectured by you when he said something stupid and mostly he wanted you to tell him how much you loved him after doing all of that. His insecurities crept up within him so slowly, he had never had to deal with that type of feeling before, especially for a girl so much younger than him.

So in true Jacob Seresin fashion he did what he knew best, became a cocky son of a bitch.

“Sweetheart there are girls in this room begging for me to call them darlin’,”

You rolled your eyes with a hint more malice than what Jake was used to (and perhaps something which coloured you slightly green with envy). Then instead of doing the correct thing and backing down he amped it up.

“Don’t act all high and mighty when you’re dressed like that doll.” Jake knew he was digging himself a hole.

“Like what Jake?”

He knew he’d overstepped, you never called him Jake, always ‘flyboy’, an affectionate ‘bagman’ after you’d heard your favourite pilot Phoenix say it, and Jake’s personal fave ‘cowboy’ when his accent drawls our far too smoothly than humanly possible.

“Like a slut.” He spat far too casually for your liking. He was appalled at himself, embarrassed that he’d call you something like that. Jake pleaded that you tell him off, shout and scream and make regret opening his mouth. Rather you span on your heel to serve the next patron and didn’t look his way for the rest of the night. It was so much worse.

Your lack of verbal sparring, heated glances and winks when ‘Slow Ride’ was punched into the jukebox for the umpteenth time that night had Jake on a whim of nausea that couldn’t even compare to pulling 7Gs in his F-18.

He wandered back to the group looking sullen and Bob who had been silently observing the interaction was the first to pipe up.

“What happened?”

“I called her a slut.”

“WHAT?” Phoenix shrieked grasping your attention from the bar. Your ears twitched at the sound but you knew you couldn’t look back at them. Jake had humiliated you.

“I dont fucking know whenever I look at her my brain gets scrambled and I..” Jake trailed off to look at you and felt his heart drop to his stomach whilst you readjusted the the wrap neckline of your dress to cover your cleavage and and struggle to pull the skirt of the dress as far down on your thighs as it could go.

Phoenix seethed watching you as well,

“You are going to go over there and apologise to my favourite bartender we’ve ever had, otherwise I will literally shoot you down at our next training session.”

Rooster coughed up,

“Or Penny will never let us back in here again,”

Jake squinted at him in confusion, “I mean I know she’s got the sign but what does she have to do with this,”

Rooster smiled with a knowing look that Jake feared so so deeply,

“You didn’t know Hangman? That’s Penny’s niece.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Present…

After his failed apology attempt that Jake had tried to spew at you at the beginning of the evening he hadn’t been back up to the bar, leaving the drink ordering and collection down to his teammates. Penny hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary with him at the end of last night and Jake wasn’t surprised. You were a big girl who could handle her men issues on her own without running for help. Which is why he felt so foolish to be one of those dudes you discard after a stupid [read misogynistic] mistake.

Watching the scumbag return to the bar top for the 7th time this past hour (yes Jake had been counting) he finally plucked up the courage to walk over to you.

Before he could fully make his way away from the group, Rooster caught his wrist and pulled them close together.

“Are you sure about this?”

Jake had never been one to listen to Bradley but he felt the urge to currently.

“Look Jake I can’t watch you go over there and apologise just to continue your journey of trying to get into her pants. She’s sweet, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Looking Rooster in the eyes it became so obvious to Jake how badly he had fucked up.

“I dont just want to get into her pants.”

Rooster snorted as Jake put emphasis on the word ‘just’. Jake rolled his eyes and continued.

“I feel like shit for making her feel bad about herself. I really fucking like her Bradley and i need her to see that.”

Rooster nodded and released his grip on Jake, pushing him forward,

“Go get her Loverboy!” Jake cringed as you turned to see Roosters outburst.

Powering ahead just in time to see scumbag reach to touch your bare arm Jake yanked his hand out of the way.

“What’s your fucking deal?” the guy grumbled and Jake took advantage of his height and stared the guy down.

“Do her a favour and get lost buddy.”

Whilst you would have previously enjoyed Jake coming to the rescue, your mood was still significantly dampened by the events of last night.

Was that seriously how he saw you? Just some slut who was the easiest way for him to get some attention. You hated that he made you doubt yourself and you hated yourself even more so for still craving him.

Whilst the scumbag stumbled off into the direction of some other frat boys Jake fell into his spot and looked up at you apologetically.

You beat him to being the first to speak up.

“Do you seriously think after that shit you pulled, you have the right to be jealous over who’s talking to me?”

Jake went to speak again but you cut in.

“I suppose you’re here to tell me how slutty this outfit is,” you gestured down at your cut off jean shorts and tight fitting crop top. Jake wanted to admire you but felt it best not to. He cringed at your use of ‘slutty’ but figured you deserved to let it out of your system.

After turning around to serve someone else who had turned up at the bar you returned back to Jake looking slightly more willing to hear what he had to say.

“Look doll,” you rolled your eyes albeit more playfully than last time he had seen the action, “I’m really really fucking sorry. I’m such a dick and i can’t believe I said that to you.” You looked into his eyes and waited for him to continue. He took a deep breath, knowing he had to say it.

“I like you so much it’s embarrassing, to the point where I’m so cocky it makes my head hurt because somehow it’s easier for you to hate me for being a dick rather than pity me for being down so bad for you.” Jake stopped his rambling to look up at you and see you giggling. God he’d fucked this situation even further. Now you were never gonna speak to him again, just laugh at how embarrassing this grown ass man was for falling for you. Recognising the slight spiralling look in his eyes you decided to put him out of his misery and speak up.

“You are so stupid lieutenant.” You smirked at him and Jake felt embarrassed at how his body reacted to you addressing him with his rank. You continued on, “You are so stupid if you didn’t think I was just as down bad for you.”

Jake quirked an eyebrow at you, begging he wasn’t just dreaming this up.

“Jake I’ve been sold on you since the minute you walked into this bar with that smirk on your face after calling me your favourite pet name of the hour.”

“Doll you don’t know how glad I am to hear that,” Jake beamed at you, “and I’m so fucking sorry again-” he began.

“If you don’t close your mouth and kiss me right now lieutenant,” and with that Jakes lips were on yours. It was sweet, he tasted like the bitter beer he had been sipping and the emergency tictacs he kept in his back pocket. He reached his hand around your head and guided your further into the kiss until you pulled back. Jake worried he had gone too far too soon and opened his mouth to apologise again. Instead he followed your line of sight to see your aunt staring disapprovingly down from the entrance of the bar. Until she burst into a fit of giggles, you turned your head shyly and buried it into Jakes chest and he lifted your chin with his finger.

“Care to explain what your aunt seems to find so funny doll?”

Penny walked behind the bar and began attending to patrons as she spoke to Jake with a knowing smile.

“I warned her of navy boys, told her how me and her mother were back in the day, and she assured me hurriedly that she could never be like that.” You blushed as your aunt continued on. “So imagine my surprise when I walk into my bar to see you Hangman, all over my niece.”

Jake smiled sheepishly, but spoke with his usual confidence, “Well if there’s one thing I can assure you Penny m’dear, it’s that I won’t be anything like your Maverick.”

You smacked Jake on the chest lightly at the mention of your on and off again uncle whilst Penny snorted. “ I can only pray.”

You pulled away from Jake to begin helping Penny wipe down the glasses but she immediately started shooing you away with her rag. “Please darling, do us all a favour and alleviate the heavy sexual tension which has been wreaking havoc on my bar for the past month.”

Your mouth hung open as you were reminded of your aunts often unnecessary candour. Jake laughed from behind you and yanked you up by the hips so you were sat on the bar top. Spinning round to face him your felt his hot breath hit your ear.

“What do you say doll? Let’s get out of here, I have a few ways i can think of making it up to you.” You pulled back with a blush on your face and nodded hit with a sudden loss for words.

“Get her off my bar top would you.” Penny gestured in your direction to Jake.

“Gladly.” He smirked placing his strong hands on your hips. You could feel the warmth of his skin on the sliver of your midriff that was revealed by the short nature of your tight top and denim cut offs. He picked you up and placed you down in front of him which made the height difference oh so much more appetising now he was staring right down at you.

“Let’s get out of here.” You smiled up at him tugging him by the calloused hand.

Jake turns as he’s being dragged out by you and winks at a staring and shocked Rooster and Coyote. Phoenix looks up from where she was about to kick Bob’s ass at pool and makes a mental note to text you later to get as many details as she can.

Finally leaving the Hard Deck and the cool night time sea breeze is refreshing on your flushed cheeks. The sunset is in its last stages as Jake checks the time. 21:52.

“Not to be presumptuous, but would you like to come back to mine?” Jake speaks almost, nervously? You squeeze his hand in reassurance and look up.

“I thought you’d never ask flyboy.”

Jake guides you through the hard deck’s gravel parking lot to his truck in the far corner where a tree hangs down lowly over it. You snort as you realise how fitting Jakes truck is to his personality. It’s shiny and big but you can see his air freshener dangling down revealing a Yankee candle spiced cinnamon scent. Suddenly not feeling very patient anymore you drag Jakes face down to yours with both hands and lock your lips together. It’s much more heated than the kiss in the bar, which is probably due to the confidence found in not being watched by a group of Jake’s workmates. Jake slips his tongue into your mouth making you moan out in surprise.

“God you sound so sweet doll” Jake groans against your ear moving his kisses along your neck getting sloppier as they go along as to drag out more sounds from you.

“Jake please,” you whimper almost embarrassingly far gone from just kissing. He pulls away from your neck to open the door to the drivers side of his truck and you whine from the loss of contact.

Jake chuckles at your needy state and helps you climb into his lap in an action far too gentlemanly for the current situation. Face to face sat in his truck your need for Jake only grows as he bucked his hips up into you causing you to whimper into his lips.

“Sorry doll,” Jake chuckles, “you just feel so good on top of me.”

“Easy cowboy,” you simper, “I could still walk right out of this truck if you keep teasing.”

“You wouldn’t,” Jake smirks, seeing right through your lie. Nevertheless, he continues his ministrations of kissing down your neck as you grind your hips down into his. The friction of his trouser seam and your shorts bumping against your clit with each movement was addictive.

You pull away from Jake’s latch on the base of your neck and begin to unbutton his shirt. Jake helps you as the heat verges on uncomfortable. Once his chest is bared to you a knot of fire ignites in your stomach as you trace the hair that leads down his chest into a happy trail with your finger. Jake hums contentedly and reaches for the bottom of your shirt.

“As adorable as the little top is doll, I’m much more interested in what’s underneath.” Jake signals for you to raise your arms to aid him removing your shirt and you do. Your shirt is abandoned on the passenger seat as Jake stares at your bare chest. You become slightly self conscious at his silence and reach to pull you hands in front of your breasts until Jake groans.

“God you’re fucking perfect,” Jake pulls your hand that was going to cover yourself and places it between both your crotches onto his hard cock. You both moan out at the sensation. Jake reaches up to unbutton your shorts and you aid him in pulling them down and tossing them to rest with your discarded shirts, thanking the lords you opted for a cute lacy baby blue thong today instead of your trusty my little pony pants that were a common wear for you. Jake groaned again loud enough that you had half a mind to shush him.

“Doll are you actually trying to kill me?” Jake asked you with an air of honesty. You giggled in reply and reached to toy with your clit through your panties. “Yep, you definitely are.”

Jake replaced your fingers with his and pulled your panties to the side to catch a glimpse of your wetness.

“All for you lieutenant,” Jakes whole body audibly twitched at that admission and he pulled you in by the back of the head for another deep kiss with his hand that wasn’t between your legs. As you kissed messily with your free hands palming over his length Jake increased his speed and plunged his middle finger into you. You moaned against his mouth at the intrusion and whimpered trying to find something coherent to say.

“Jake please I’m so close,”

“I know doll, please cum for me.” Jake begged whilst he circled your clit once more with his thumb. Feeling you clench around him Jake repeated his actions over and over as you squirmed against him, thrashing gently as pleasure overcame you. Jake watched in awe as the girl he has dreamt about for the past month came all over his hand. Breathing hard you kissed Jake messily again as he removed his fingers from you. Parting from the kiss you watched Jake stick his fingers into his mouth and suck them clean, involuntarily clenching as you eyed his actions. Jake opened his eyes and made contact with your lust blown ones and smirked.

“Now let me actually take you back to my place doll, show you what else I can do.”

You smacked his bare chest endearingly and moved over to the passenger side to dress yourself in his button down shirt for the short drive back to his place. Jake looked over and smiled seeing you dressed in his shirt lit up by the moonlight filtering in from the windscreen, and it filled him with pride to see you finally as his girl.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

a/n: this is my first piece of writing ive actually decided to post so please comment and re blog and tell me what u think !!!

yes it was inspired by the abba song LOL i watched mamma mia yesterday and couldn’t stop thinking about jake and the whole “i wasn’t jealous before we met, now every man that i see is a potential threat,” (queue sick fighting moves)

i was also thinking about doing fics w bob and rooster inspired by mamma mia/ abba songs so whatever you want to see just lemme knowwww :)

thank u for reading

- honey <3333

#top gun #top gun movie #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x reader smut #hangman smut #hangman x you #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader smut #jake hangman seresin #top gun smut

2K notes · View notes

pinkmeanieofficial · 9 days

Text

Every passion borders on the chaotic

Gleaming eyes with otherworldly power, whispers an incantation as shadows coalesce around her outstretched hand. With a flick of her wrist, Amara casts Hex upon the agile slayer, its deadly blades now tinged with an eerie weakness.

Meanwhile, Astarion, a cunning smile playing on his lips, melds into the darkness, his vampiric instincts guiding his steps. With the grace of a predator, he positions himself behind the distracted Slayer, ready to strike.

As Amara releases a surge of Eldritch Blast, the air crackles with dense energy, striking the slayer with pinpoint accuracy. With a screech of pain, the creature staggers, its defences momentarily faltering.

Seizing the moment, the rogue emerged from the shadows, his blades flashing like silver lightning in the dim light. With a series of deft strikes, he danced around the slayer's desperate attempts to defend itself, each blow guided by the warlock's eerie enchantments.

A macabre symphony of death, Amara's power intertwined with Astarion's vampiric finesse, creating a dance of blood. And as the dust settled, the once-ferocious slayer lay defeated, a testament to the uncanny synergy of warlock and rogue in a world where magic and mayhem walked hand in hand.

#bg3 #bg3 fanart #astarion #oc #baldurs gate 3

69 notes · View notes

bean-bean2000 · 14 days

Text

The Maid - Part 7

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, depression, mentions of suicide, despair, feeling trapped. Mentions of abuse and rape.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Series masterlist Main Masterlist

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

The tears in your eyes cloud your vision. Loki stares at you in shock. All he can see is a shell of the woman he met before. The woman with fire and passion, cursing out a king, purely feeding off of bravery and survival instinct. He realizes that it was a defence mechanism created to hide her true pain beneath.

You feel the walls within you building back up, brick by brick around your heart. Closing yourself off from everything. Until you feel nothing again. The tears stop, your heart rate slows, your hands are dry. All you can do is blink and stare out the window. It's like your brain goes into autopilot; shielding you from the trauma and pain you've endured.

You rise from the chair quickly "I apologize, your highness. This has all been an overreaction. I am sorry for bothering you. I will now take my leave." You turn towards the door but you're met with a blank wall.

What?

You feel his hand gently grab your wrist.

"I know what you're doing. You're shielding yourself from the emotional pain. I know that look all too well. I mastered it, myself." He approaches you slightly, closing the gap between you.

"So you're solution is to lock me in here?!"

His eyes glistened as he spoke "Stop. Please, don't push me out, believe me. " Your breath hitches in your throat.

The king is pleading me to believe him?

Before you can answer you feel his thumb gently grasp your chin to lock in your gaze.

"I promise. He will pay for everything he did to you. I will seek it myself. However, I need to know what he did..." Loki softly says to you, his eyes burning with pure sincerity.

You don't know why but the glare in his eyes lit a fire in your heart you thought was extinguished and irreparable. When you looked at him, you could see a green aura surrounding him. You weren't afraid, you were enamoured by it. You felt this gravitational pull...You felt... warmth and tranquility; something you haven't felt in a very long time.

"Okay. I believe you." you breathe out.

The intensity of your words weighed heavy on Loki's heart. He knew a woman like you, trusted nobody but herself.

You don't know why but you feel this urge to tell him everything, from the moment you reached the castle until now. The abuse, the attempted rapes, the whipping, the pain and suffering.

When you finish explaining your truth, living as a maid, all Loki could do was listen to you intently, absorbing everything you say, never faltering. You had his undivided attention.

"Why didn't Banner ever mention it?......" Loki questions aloud.

"I told him not to. He promised he wouldn't. Banner keeps his word."

"Why didn't tell anyone? Why let yourself suffer all this time?" his green eyes are bright with emotion, almost as though he can feel your pain.

"Do you think anyone would believe me? Even if I did, Why would they say anything to oppose him? He is the pure essence of evil. Everybody fears him, nobody defies him without consequence. He says every action is ordered by YOU, the KING, might I remind you! Do you think ANY of us even THOUGHT of questioning that? Do you think anybody would bat and eyelash if I were to suddenly disappear? They would replace me the next day with no further thought. I've been gone for so long by now, they probably have done just that. We are enslaved to the crown. We have no rights. We are treated as objects who are easily replaceable. When you need this job to survive with basic necessities on a daily basis, you become numb to it all."

Loki stares at you, mouth slightly agape. His mind couldn't wrap itself around the fact that he failed you, he failed his people.

The king is speechless. That's a first.

Loki was calm on the outside but raging severely on the inside. He could not fathom how this could be happening within his castle walls without his knowledge.

He suddenly felt this uncontrollable rage bubbling up inside him. His hands began to glow green as he attempted to contain his emotions.

What is happening? I haven't reacted like this since I was a teenager.

Your story was replaying in his head, over and over again as he stared out his window, trying to contain his powers to not scare you away.

How DARE HE touch even one hair on her head. I will make him pay for this.

His hands grew brighter with every thought of you suffering by his hands. He felt this intense urge to protect you, to regain vengeance on the pain he has caused you.

He suddenly spins on his heel and walks towards you, placing a gentle hand your cheek. "Believe me when I say that none of this was my doing. I never ordered any of these commands. They are foolish dogs who managed to loosen their leashes without me noticing. I will make him pay. All of them." he hissed through gritted teeth.

Before you can retort he cuts you off.

"You shall stay in the chambers besides mine. You will be safe." he says before he disappears into the thin air and you appear into chambers you do not recognize.

What did I just do?

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

Part 8

Let me know what you all think of the story so far! Feedback is welcome!

Tag list:

@gruftiela

@elegantcheesecakecrown

@chxco-hyujin

@cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

@i-am-amora-the-enchantress

@cakesandtom

@dorck26

@buckitostan

@princessdragon23

@classicsandfantasy

@wolfsmom1

@stardream14

@em0220

@goblingirlsarah

@meow-meowmotherfucker-blog

@huntress-artemiss

@lunazeichnet

#fanfic #marvel #loki x reader #loki of asgard #loki fanfiction #loki #loki laufeyson #loki series #angst #enemies to lovers

65 notes · View notes

lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

Text

Bow to Me [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (15) Reveals and eroticism are rife at Stark's Renaissance Faire. (w/c 4.2k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. Language.

The veil fastened to your forehead by a simple gold band billowed around your shoulders. Heavy skirts fluttered around your ankles, an approaching banner of war. Thor’s eyes grew wide with alarm, seeing your determined stride through a maze of colourful bunting. There would be no escape this time. He threw a fresh candy apple to the side mid-bite, taking off with a comical run to the nearest high topped tent. It was thirty minutes into Stark’s annual family fun-day. The theme this year? Renaissance Faire. And you were already prepared to go medieval on pretty much everybody in attendance.

Several wide-eyed children looked up at you in awe as you strode between them, the heavy folds of your skirts swishing purposefully on your way to confront the cowardly god. “Fhor is afwaid of her.” one of the children lisped, to a chorus of hushed woww’s that followed you like a breeze. You smirked, lifting the luxurious panel of the costume tent to reveal a cowering Thor trying frantically to conceal himself with ye olde dust sheet. “Desist, woman!” he whined dramatically, stretching out a hand with the sheet hanging limply, the other shielding his eyes. “Do not tempt me with your corseted bosom and coquettish wiles, I beg of you. You know not what you do!" You folded your arms, trying not to laugh. “I’m not trying to make you break the Oath of Most Ass-yoor-red Recompense, idiot - your dick is safe as far as I’m concerned.” you said, watching Thor’s eye squint between parted fingers. “You know of this?” he mumbled warily. “Oh, I know of this.” you smirked. His arms fell to his sides, a look of bamboozled relief on his face. “Thank the gods.” he murmured. “I thought for sure when I saw your fiery demeanour out yonder that you had finally come to your senses and decided you must have me.” he looked at you with sudden panic. “Not that I would-I wouldn’t...oh, do not tell my broth-” You raised a hand, his words fumbling to a merciful stop. “I need to ask you something.” you said slowly, hoping he could sense the need for some semblance of sincerity. Thor's brow furrowed. “Loki said I needed to speak to you, it’s weird – so, well he can see...he says- um, flashes of things in my head and I wondered…” you trailed off, feeling suddenly foolish under Thor’s blank stare. “Go on.” he gestured expectantly, arms folded. His brows were raised, as if you had said nothing of any note at all. It was your turn to frown. “Well, what the fuck is up with that? It’s rude.” you snapped. Thor chuckled. “You are in love with him. Obviously.” he scoffed, turning over his shoulder to glance at himself in the mirror. He smoothed a rogue blonde strand, pouting. “Why do people keep saying that?” you huffed, brushing the front of your dress as heat rose in your cheeks. “Everyone knows I can’t stand him so I don’t know why you’re both obsessed with-”

“Mother used to do it to me all the time…” he continued, ignoring you as he re-adjusted the short velvet cape clasped to his shoulders. He had dressed as a king for today’s festivities. Because of course he had.

“I understand your misgivings. It is rather inconvenient. For instance, if you wish to conceal that it was you who mistakenly defecated in the pantry and your mother asks you who defecated in the pantry and you are trying to think of anything but defac-” “-OK, Thor.” you cut him off with a snap, heart thundering. “...But in my defence” he continued unwaveringly, straightening his garish plastic crown. “I was a mere five hundred at the time. Just discovered ale, you see.” he said, turning with an innocent grin which faltered when he saw your steely stare. You frowned as Thor cleared his throat. “Even you mortals have an innate barrier to the invasive sight of others, something you enact as easily as breathing.” he said, traces of mirth ebbing. “When a person feels love, that barrier falters – and recipients of that love who are gifted with magic can, you know...” “See into their thoughts?” you finished. Thor shook his head. “Read their emotions, things that make them feel. Like empathy, as overrated as is it. Or guilt – such as the guilt one may feel over allegedly defecating in a pantry.” You rolled your eyes. “Well it’s bullshit. I can’t love him – he’s awful.” Thor nodded sagely, straightening his velvet tunic. “My brother likely shares your disquiet, in all honesty.” he muttered, adjusting his crown. “In truth, I thought he would be more unbearable when this eventually happened, but he has maintained a surprising amount of decorum. You should thank him.” “Thank him?!" you snorted incredulously. "I don’t think so.” Thor preened, as moments passed in silence. “Wait…” you said slowly. “He’s never been able to do this before?” Thor shrugged, swishing his cape theatrically across his chest. He looked at you blankly as your eyes widened in disbelief. “You mean...no one’s ever loved him? How is that possible?” you whispered, hearing Thor chuckle. “You speak of love often for someone who is not, in fact, in love.” he said, raising a bushy eyebrow. “In answer to your question...those who may have developed those feelings for him became...distracted.” Thor shuffled on his feet, gaze drawn back to himself in the mirror. “Distracted?” you murmured curiously. “Yes.” he replied. “By me. An unfortunate consequence of being the unquestionable biological jewel of the family, one cannot blame them really.” You suddenly remembered the conversation which sparked their sword-fight in the training hall last month. ‘Since when did you respect the Covenant of the First Seed, brother?’ Loki had spat with fire. You remembered the casual indifference painted on Thor’s brow, radiating a confidence that was severely lacking in his present state. ‘I see not how it is my fault that you could not satisfy your lovers, Loki.’ the blonde in front of you had said. “You fucked his girlfriends? Thor, that’s sick.” you hissed, shaking your head. Thor chuckled again. “They came to me, my Lady. In their glances across the dining hall with red jewels in their hair. Flashing garters a deep shade of maroon that would make Borr himself weak. The Ordinance of the Colours is no trifle. You know yourself the power of my seductive prowess. How could they resist?”

You grimaced. “Well, I did.” you sniped, folding your arms. “Yes…” Thor conceded thoughtfully, before flicking his hair back. “But you are also in love with my brother so your unnatural tastes cannot be accounted for.”

Your mind was suddenly flooded with memories of the rage in Loki’s hands and teeth as he tore the red dress from your body the night of the shareholders party. The venom in his eyes as he watched it explode in the air in a burst of green light. The way his stare hardened at the sight of your cleavage cupped in crimson lingerie, the ancient sword conjured as deathly sharp as his cheekbones to set his brother away from you. It wasn’t Asgardian bullshit. It was more than that. And for the first time, you felt something stronger than anger. Guilt. You swallowed, chin raised defiantly as Thor’s smug gaze trawled your features. It wasn’t often he found himself on the stronger side of a debate. You ran a finger nonchalantly along a rail of cloaks hanging to your side, before inspecting the tip for non-existent dust. “Not that he does but I mean theoretically if he loved me, just you know...out of interest...I should be able to hear his thoughts, right?” “No.” Thor scoffed disbelievingly. “That is a ridiculous notion. You are not gifted.” “Right.” you said, lips hardening in a tight line. Thor sighed theatrically. “If it alleviates your malaise, I have never seen him show so much hostility towards someone he has not slaughtered moments later.” “Why would that alleviate my malaise?” you sneered, feeling your stomach flutter. “And I don’t have ‘malaise’ for god’s sake” you spat, unconvincingly, fidgeting with the loose belt at your waist. “Its not like I want him to love me I was just you know, checking.” Thor looked up coyly beneath pale lashes, a smug glint in his eye that he had doubtless learned from his infuriating brother. “My lady, if my observation does not betray his heart, then truly I do not know what does.” You stared at him mutely. He sighed again. “It is nuanced, I grant you. My brother is a frustrating creature. Believe me, I empathise.” He turned back to the mirror, admiring himself. “Rogers gave me a book this yuletide, regarding your 'Love Languages' by some alleged scholar or other. Well, my brother’s love language is... hostility.” he announced, pleased with his assessment. You rolled your eyes, fully aware the butterflies in your stomach had become a flock of sparrows. “Did you read the book?” you said flatly, hoping Thor didn’t catch the twitch of your jaw as you tried to contain the twist of nerves in your chest. “Well, no.” he said incredulously, face softening before he gave a knowing wink. “But that does not mean I am wrong.” You heard the quick succession of approaching footsteps outside the tent. “Thor! Come!” a familiar voice roared, thick and rich. “Preparations for the joust are a disaster. They intend to use horses, of all things – allegedly there are no flighting moose...on Midga-” Loki bristled, one arm frozen in drawing back the tent’s curtain.

Thor straightened the lapel of his obscenely luxurious padded tunic, tilting his toy crown askew. “What think you of my regalia, brother?” he drawled regally, spreading his hands wide to the sides. “I think there cannot be two kings.” Loki snarled bitterly, resting a hand on the hilt of a sword slung by his hip. A dull one, you hoped.

He too was dressed in costumed finery; a lapel of ermine cupping his chin above a perfectly fitted tunic of such rich green it was almost black. An ornate golden chain hung in a semi-circle around his shoulders, making a crescent on his broad chest. You ran your eyes down his long body, a pair of pale hose snug to his endlessly muscled legs. He was positively poured into them, the opaque fabric smoothing the raw animalistic power hidden beneath their cover. They ran down to a ridiculous pair of heeled, buckled shoes. Green, naturally. Loki shifted his stance, feet pointed to the exit. You watched the bulge of his thighs ripple, femurs outlined exquisite against the sinful tights which clung to carved limbs like a second skin. Your eyes lingered on his bulge, the lower curve just visible beneath the hem of the tunic. Saliva evaporated on your tongue. You tried to swallow - begging yourself to forget every historical sex scene you had ever rewound as your fingers pulsed on your clit. The god’s hair fell in luscious waves, set against the white fur tucked beneath his jaw like black paint on snow. He was beautiful. And he too, was wearing a crown. Because of course he was. “You are correct brother, there cannot be two kings at this revelry – but by a happy accident I only see one present.” Thor winked at you again. Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a flirtation I observe, brother?” Thor paled. “No, he’s fine.” you said quickly, feeling your cheeks heat beneath Loki’s glare. He hadn’t spoken a word to you since your last tense encounter in the Snack Shack six days ago, every raise of your hand during meetings causing a mighty roll of his eyes akin to the old days. The weight of your interrupted conversation hung heavily in the air. Wafting like cigar smoke. Stifling.

Suddenly Thor barged towards his brother and turned sideways to exit the tent, the width of his ridiculous puffed sleeves causing him to shuffle awkwardly past his stoic sibling. Loki shot you a cold glare, nodding expectantly towards the exit for you to follow him. You sauntered casually towards the gap, taking no mind of the smouldering gaze rolling appraisingly over your medieval dress like treacle. Loki held the curtain of the tent high, his arm stoically positioned above your head as you finally felt the waft of a fresh breeze on your heated cheeks. “Agent.” he murmured in unnecessary greeting as you passed, making you pause. The scent of him invaded alongside the breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Wood smoked leather and dusky sandalwood. Pine. It clung to his onyx curls; hanging like a un-repentant traitor on every stitch of gold thread wound into the tight tunic snug against his torso. You could feel his eyeline trail down the valley of your cleavage as easily as if it was his tongue. “You’ve been ignoring me.” you said quietly, eyes fixed on Thor standing ahead; hoisting up his hoes with an exaggerated squat. People were staring. “Have I, Agent?” Loki purred, craning down from his position. His lips grazed the tip of your cheekbone as he spoke. Was he smelling your hair? “I didn’t think you would notice. Considering how little you think of our interactions.” he murmured. You could hear a snarl behind his teeth, barely masked venom blossoming on the cusp of each word like brewing tea.

You tilted your chin, the space between two pairs of parted lips excruciatingly small. Raising your eyes to meet his, you found no warmth there. No playfulness. Not today. And to be honest, after what Thor had told you, you didn’t blame him. Loki’s eyes narrowed, readjusting his grip on the fabric panel held aside above your head. “If you have nothing further to say, Agent…” he sneered sarcastically against your ear. His body curved away from you, ensuring that not a single part of his achingly erotic form touched yours. Loki’s haughty condescension sliced through the melting desire in your core, a weirdly comforting irritation usurping it. The thick golden chain hanging against his collarbone glinted in the afternoon sun, vying for your attention. Self-centred, presumptive arsehole, you flamed, feeling renewed warmth seep across your skin. Does he expect me to tell him I fucking ‘love’ him while his brother is rummaging around his crotch twenty feet away? Your gaze locked onto the sight of Thor’s face twisted in confusion as he tried to arrange himself covertly beneath the hose. Loki’s conceited confidence made you boil, a confusion of emotions competing in your addled brain making you feel nauseous. “You’re wrong.” you managed to say, voice strained. Loki chuckled mirthlessly beside you. “We’ll see.” he replied ominously, as you began to walk forward. You didn’t know why you had stopped in the first place. The chiffon headdress fluttered around your chin. Now that the adrenaline of searching for Thor had dissipated, you could finally take in the surroundings of Stark’s much anticipated event. A calculated distraction, you would admit. Swathes of bygone-era dressed guests moved in groups from stall to stall. The faint pluck of a lute troupe audible over the buzz of the crowd, humming like birds in the rustling waves of trees surrounding the clearing. Stationary wagons holding every manner of historical food and beverage you could think of were dotted about. Tony had really spunked the budget this year. Silently, you walked sandwiched between two simmering gods towards the only group of familiar faces; hovering by the food carts.

“What were the three of you doing in the costume tent?” Wanda said coyly, wriggling her eyebrows. You shook your head subtly. Loki frowned. “I think the better query is why Lang is sporting that counterfeit phallus.” he drawled, drawing his eyes judgementally over the protrusion from Scott’s hose-clad hips. The subject of his jibe’s eyes widened, a gargantuan roasted turkey leg covering the lower half of his face. “Wha-?” he mouthed, meat flicking into the air and hitting Nat on the forehead. Scott swallowed with difficulty, gesturing at his crotch with a free hand. “Hello?! It’s a Ren faire! Cod-pieces galore am I right? Everyone’s got em. You’ve got one for god’s sa-” He stopped mid-sentence, gaze lingering once more on the draw of Loki’s hypnotic groin outlined perfectly beneath the tights. You traced the curves of your sometime-lover’s bulge covetously, remembering the smack of the shutters against your lower back as he railed into you like a furious, feral animal; fucking for survival. God, had it only been a week? It felt like years. Loki shifted his stance, folding his arms as he widened his hips. “We both know that I do not require such auspicious modifications, Lang.” he said slowly, a smile tugging his lips as Scott’s cheeks flushed.

“Please tell me we’re not talking about Laufeyson’s ding-dong again…” Steve whined over your shoulder, making you jump. He sashed into the centre of the circle, hands folded together beneath the long brown draping of his sleeves. A wooden cross hung around his neck, a thick rope of cream tied to his waist. Gone was the shock of radiant blonde hair, and in its place a questionable skullcap complete with dark bowel-cut. Friar Rogers. You lowered your eyes to the ground, feeling your chest begin to contract with laughter. For a moment, you saw Loki’s feet shuffle closer; just a little. Steve’s blue eyes widened pleadingly, every inch a man of the cloth. “Can we please try to keep lewdness to a minim-” “-I think what Tuck Shop is trying to say is that there are children, children.” Tony chided with amusement, as he sauntered out of nowhere to take his place beside the good Friar. Deep lines on his forehead danced with barely contained mirth. Or maybe he’d just been at the mead. A resplendent crown sat jauntily on his head, a tunic of red tinselled satin and silver thread replacing his trademark t-shirt and jeans. In one hand, he held a ridiculously large steak on a stick. In the other, a tankard. He took a sip, as Steve glanced around, flinching as a juggler appeared out of nowhere and disappeared into the crowd. Tony burped, before posturing thoughtfully. “Although, I think collectively we can agree we’re all obsessed with Laufeyson’s ‘ding-dong’.” he quipped, raising an eyebrow around the circle. “I mean...it’s worth its not un-sizeable weight in free PR, for one thing.” Steve flushed an alarming shade of crimson, cut off comically at the base of his skullcap. Loki sighed with theatrical exasperation. “Stark, you declared that I was to be the King in today’s farcical proceedings.” he said petulantly, with no attempt to hide his irritation. “Did I?” Tony gasped, pressing a palm to his chest. Thor snorted. “I think not, brother.” he scoffed. “The crown should fall in direct lineage to those who are worthy. I would be willing to concede my post as King of this fete if you would but grant me your renewed Oath of Most Assured Recompense in return?” he goaded, making Loki’s jaw clench. You heard him inhale sharply- “-No more Oaths!” you snapped, making both brothers jump. “This is ridiculous. You can both be kings, no one cares.” There were murmurs of agreement from the rest of the group. Tony raised his hand incredulously while Loki and Thor let out a simultaneous derisive snort. “Both?!” the blonde boomed, shaking his head. “My, my it truly would never have worked between us.” he said wistfully. Loki rolled his eyes as Rogers backed slowly out the circle, seeming to glide glacially with tiny steps beneath the sway of his shit-coloured robes. “Well then one of you change.” Nat growled, as you started to feel the antsy crawl of awkward tension tingle up your arms again. Thor laughed. “There is not one garment in the tent from whence we came that would fit over one of my mighty calves, Romanoff. Tis’ my brother who shall have to concede.” “Did they really think I’d give anyone else the King job at my own damn party?” you heard Tony scoff loudly to no-one. “Asgardians, I’m tellin ya…” You saw the muscle in Loki’s cheek bob as he ground his teeth. Tony bit into the speared steak in his hand, enjoying it all immensely. The dark god’s eyes flashed, a glimmer of something sparking heat between your legs.

“Fine.” Loki snapped, “As it happens I came prepared for such traitorous shenanigans. A lifetime of dealing with you, brother, has taught me to always save my best for when you show your hand.” he smirked, eyes flickering between you and a sceptical Thor. “Besides…” he purred slowly, stalking his gaze in your direction. “I have found that people are quite willing to bow to me... even without a crown.”

He grasped one of the golden tips with his thumb and forefinger, thrusting the ornament to the ground at Thor’s feet with a flick of his wrist. You saw a green glow lap at Loki’s feet, moving slowly upwards. He could do this in a millisecond if he wanted, but he was putting on a show. His twee buckled shoes melted to thick black leather, rolling up his calves like armour. Edges appeared below the knees, shifting inward to coat his carved thighs in matching trousers which, somehow, gave the illusion of being even snugger than the cream tights. You swallowed, unable to tear your eyes away as a wave of wild fur blossomed around his torso; bear or fox or- “-Wolf.” Loki purred rakishly in your direction, his tongue taking its time over the syllable like a seductive bark. “Urgh, I love it when he does that.” Wanda cooed huskily, giving her face a dramatic fan. You rolled your eyes, shuffling with your arms folded. Suddenly your corset felt tight. Very tight. In the seconds your gaze had been averted, a thick leather belt had appeared around Loki’s midriff, cinching the fur. Heavy pendants hung from his neck, glinting in the afternoon sun against bare skin. The wolf fur ran in a deep V to his naval, every inch a slutty medieval bandit. Christ, you thought. I’m fucked.

“This will suit my new posting for the festivities all the better, anyway.” Loki sneered towards his brother as Tony took another gulp of mead. He flicked his hair over his shoulders, the haughty slice of his jaw making you flinch as it pointed to you. “I find that women prefer characters’ with a little more...depth. Isn’t that right, Agent?” Wanda elbowed you in the ribs playfully as Thor squinted; bamboozled. “What does that mean?” he scoffed. “I thought you on greeting duty, of all things…over yonder.” He tilted his head towards the line of families queued at the entrance, excited children jumping up and down. You saw a young girl burst into tears as a manically grinning Friar Steve loomed over her, draped sleeves hanging from arms stretched in greeting before her mother snatched her away. Loki smirked. “I have been re-assigned.” he said, glinting eyes making a flutter shuffle in your belly. His thumbs hooked into the thick leather belt, tugging downward. What you wouldn’t give to feel the smart of that leather whip across your ass as he took you against a tree in the wilderness beyond the faire’s boundary. Maybe he will, you thought as a thrill flooded soared beneath the anachronistic lace panties you were wearing. Loki’s lashes fluttered upwards, his lip curling before those ethereal features hardened again. He had been colder than usual this past week, and you had a feeling that today would be no different, given the circumstances.

“Yah – he’s on the archery range now.” Tony interjected casually, breaking the stare you didn’t know you were burning into the profile of Loki’s jawline.

Nat shook her head. “What the fuck? Where’s Clint?” she said, glancing around the bustling thoroughfare. Tony shrugged, talking through a mouthful of ye olde steak. “Said he didn’t feel like it today, his voice sounded a little hoarse on the phone.” Nat’s brow arched, swinging her eyes suspiciously towards Loki. The god rocked on his heels, a tiny shrug making his shoulders bounce as he tried to contain the smile pressing at his dimples. “I didn’t know you could shoot.” you scoffed, fidgeting with the veil hanging by your collarbone. “You never asked, Agent.” he drawled innocently, running a hand through his perfectly waved hair. “But truly...are you surprised?” Nat suddenly yanked you to the side of the group. She cast a quick glance back to the circle closing in on Loki, admiring his new outfit. Scott was rubbing a palm repeatedly down his pelted chest while the god smirked, pleased with himself. “He’s done something with Clint.” she hissed over your shoulder. You frowned, leaning back incredulously to see the concern etched plainly on her face. “He wouldn’t…” you whispered, glancing at a resplendent, wolf fur clad Loki stretching his ridiculously long arms to Scott's unbridled awe. “Whatever the fuck is going on with you guys, I don’t give a shit.” Nat said quietly. “Go with Laufeyson, find out where he’s put him. Barton could be passed out enchanted off his nuts in a port-a-potty and we’d never find him.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to read her face. “Nat I…” you started, fully intending to stand your ground. Suddenly there was a low whistle. Both of you twisted around, seeing Loki drawn to his full height; hair flowing over the puffed collar of his furs with his thumb and forefinger slotted in his mouth. The curve of his ass in the aged leather trousers was obscene, thick thighs creasing the material as it fought against its master. Christ, how you wanted to sink your teeth into them as you buried yourself between his achingly long legs. There were screams from the crowd before it parted, a panicked flurry of feathered hats and veils and skirts flying in all directions as citizens fell over themselves. A beautiful black steed cantered through the fray, completely un-phased. It was absolutely huge, the massive muscles of it's broad chest flexing with each long step. It’s smooth coat gleamed, rich tones of deepest blue flashing amongst the inky hairs as it trotted over and stopped with its nose pressed against Loki’s palm. “Shall we, Agent?” Loki purred knowingly snapping his fingers and making a vibrant caparison unfurl on the waiting stallion. The luxurious material fell in folds, dark emerald and vibrant gold with Loki's insignia woven through the fabric. A saddle and reins manifested snug to the huge horse, who whinnied in approval. Words failed you, seeing an ornate curved bow appear in Loki's grip through a wash of flickering magic. He slung it casually over his shoulder, palm stretched toward you expectantly. You vaguely heard Scott’s murmurs of besotted admiration as a sharp nudge from Natasha in the kidneys made you stumble forwards, automatically grasping towards his hand. Before you could protest, the air was knocked out of you as Loki’s fingers gripped around your waist, throwing you up. Your ass landed sideways on the saddle with a soft thump. You scrambled to grip the reigns, steadying yourself. With a graceful bound, Loki swung himself up behind, winding arms encasing you before his nimble fingers caressed the leather reigns from your grasp.

The disbelieving stares of the gathered Avengers crawled in your periphery as his forearms tightened around your ribs. Loki's elaborately constructed garment did nothing to disguise the hardness of the muscle beneath, thick ropes of pure power shifting as he settled. You could feel the slide of traitorous arousal leaking between your thighs, desperately wet and needy for the infuriatingly smug god steadying you against his spread leathered femurs. “You can be my first student, won’t that be fun?” he smouldered darkly, the whisper of his sweet breath skating over the delicate skin beneath your ear. He chuckled softly against your cheek. "Someone has to break me in before I am unleashed on the unsuspecting public, surely." You sighed, a quiver of anticipation betraying the roar of desire between your legs as you pressed them together, hanging off the side of his steed. The horse stamped once. Impatient, like his master. “And Agent…?” Loki murmured through a smirk, the deep baritones making you squeeze your shoulder-blades together against the expanse of rippling masculinity beneath the wolf-pelt. “I have quite the lesson in mind.”

Continued in Bow to Me: Quivering Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @mischief2sarawr @loopsisloops @michelleleewise @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @fictional-hooman @filthyhiddles @maple-seed @pineappleandro @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @wolfmoonmusic @justjoanne242 @peachyjinx @praq123 @trickster-maiden @astridstark13 @lokisgoodboy @coldnique @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lady-rose-moon @nine-leafclover @springdandelixn @littlespaceyelf @ladyofthestayingpower @soldeloki @liminalpebble @psychospore

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #hostile f*cks collection #loki laufeyson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x yn #loki x you #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki smut #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki odinson x reader #loki marvel #loki gif

695 notes · View notes

imagineanime2022 · 4 months

Text

Cursed Siblings *Part 2*

Ryomen Sukuna X Reader!Sibling

Word Count: 1214

Requested: @imperatrizpirata @bronze-metal

Request: Hello, I really liked it, reader, being Sukuna's sister (sukuna as always very affectionate lol) If you don't mind I would like a part 2.

*Part 1*

In the weeks that followed Junpei was put under scrutiny but he never faltered not with you there, they forced endless tests and had even attempted to kill him on his first arrival, the principle of Jujutsu Tech had attempted to have Junpei enrolled with the other students but it seemed that even his word was not enough and if they would not act in trust you would make them act in fear.

It was yet another meeting this time with all who had a say in Junpei’s future, they were all as stone faced as they had been every other time and you could tell that nothing had changed. It was easy to take control for yourself with just one word, ‘activate’. The change in pressure in the room was felt by all of them, you could tell by the sweat rolling down their brows or slight shift in their seats, Gojo who had been standing next to both of you felt it too and one glance told him all that he needed to know, his hands moving out of his pocket prepared for a fight should it be needed. “No need to worry six eyes, I'm in no mood for a fight today.” You informed him “I just thought it important to remind them of the power that I am allowing them to wield.” “You think you hold any power here?” One of them asked. “Are you stupid enough to believe that I don’t?” You asked, increasing the pressure in the room, the only person unaffected at this point was the six eyes user himself. “What… Do… You… Want?” Another finally asked. “They’ve already stated what I want. I won’t repeat it so you can have the satisfaction of me asking.” You answered. “You want to enrol in Jujutsu Tech?” He asked as you let up on the show of power with a deadly smirk. “Junpei wants to enrol in Jujutsu Tech.” You corrected them as you lifted his hand to point back at yourself “I want to be with my brother, a king needs his advisor after all and when it’s all said and done you don’t want to piss off the more rational of the cursed siblings.”

That was the day they decided that Junpei would enrol in Jujutsu Tech despite the security risk that posed. Junpei had spent the better half his first day getting the tour from Yuji with Gojo not far behind, he met Yuji’s friends who were quick to accept him as part of their group forgetting about you looming over his shoulder, that is until you make yourself known. The training started the next day, you knew that Junpei had a strong Shikigami under his belt but he needed more self defence and fighting skill in general, you watched the first few matches from the side slowly moving around the field as the second year Maki came at him. On the third loss you appeared in his view holding your hand out to him, you helped him to sit up as you crouched in front of him “How are you doing?” You asked. “I can’t do this.” He mumbled “Yes you can.” You answered softly “she’s a seasoned fighter, you won’t beat her but you can defend yourself just listen to me.”

Yuji sat on the stairs with Megumi, Nobara, Inumaki and Panda. “He's never going to get it.” Nobara said as she sipped on her drink “Maki is too good.” “You think?” Yuji asked. “Maybe we should help him.” “Help him? No thanks.” Nobara muttered as her eyes shifted over to the fight again. “He doesn’t need your help.” Sukuna’s voice reverated through Yuji. “What are you talking about?” He asked. “They taught me everything that I know and they will teach him, he’ll be on your level in no time.” Sukuna answered and as if to prove the point Junpei successfully blocked an attack with an excited smile on his face as he moved away from Maki to create space. “Your sibling is teaching him how to fight?” Yuji asked. “Why wouldn’t they?” Sukuna asked, he knew that Yuji was going to make a comparison to himself. “You’ve never helped me.” Yuji answered. “I don’t like you kid.” Sukuna muttered “They chose him, they want him to succeed and they’ve always loved a challenge.” Yuji didn’t say anything further in response as he watched Junpei improve over the session. Sukuna didn’t like many people let alone compliment them, he’d often cursed Gojo but never had he complimented anyone’s strength not the way that he did yours, Junpei was 10x better than he was when he started and it seemed that everyone had noticed that.

Later that evening Junpei was sleeping when Sukuna reached out to you, it was easy for you to slip into his domain given that there was no actual barrier but you still groaned as you were submerged ankle deep in something. “What is it with you and the fluid?” You asked. “Do you even know what this is?” “Does it matter?” Sukuna asked from his place on his throne. “It does when it’s soaking into my socks.” You complained as you took steps towards him. “Then wear better shoes. No one else complains.” Sukuna argued and you rolled your eyes. “That’s because they’re too busy pleading for their lives.” You answered “they don’t have time to worry about wet socks, not to mention they probably think they’re the ones who wet them given the fact that most people who see you lose bladder control.” “There are other ways you could have said that.” Sukuna mumbled as he stood, appearing in front of you moments later. “What is your plan?” “What?” You asked. “With the meat suit.” He added. “Junpei?” You asked. “You’ve got a body perfectly made for you, I’ve got to mould one.” “Are you sure that’s what you're doing?” He asked “with that one?” “Bodies can be changed but minds, it takes far more to break them, Junpei doesn’t need to be broken by the end of our time together, he will have given into my way of thinking or given me his body entirely.” You explained. “And if he doesn’t.” Sukuna asked. “Ryo, you hold the one thing that’s he’s been clinging to in the palm of your hand, you’ll break him for me won’t you?” You teased as you skipped forward to meet him at the base of the skull pile. “I suppose I can do that.” He smirked as you bowed your head to him. “Thank you little brother.” You said softly, Sukuna had gotten taller than you long before he had been sealed and so it was a natural behaviour for him to lift his hand and flick your forehead before saying. “You owe me.” “You haven’t done anything yet, you’ll only get something if I actually need your help.” You responded. “Well then I hope this kid is strong enough to give me a job to do.” Sukuna smirked and you rolled your eyes before making your way back to Junpei. Your eyes moved over him as you thought about your next move, you hoped that you didn’t have to do anything drastic after all you were starting to like this one.

Request Here!!

#jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujustu kaisen oneshot #jujustu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujustu kaisen #ryomen sukuna imagine #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna oneshot #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader #gender nuetral reader

62 notes · View notes

littlemissaddict · 1 year

Text

Backfired - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: As she avoids Eddie as she fears she's ruined their friendship, Eddie begins to worry that she's just like everyone else - ashamed to be seen with him. Follow on from Psycho.

Word Count: 2883

"Dustin" she tried to keep her voice from shaking as she approached the younger boy at his locker, Eddie's checked shirt from the night before folded neatly in her hands, a tightly folded apology note tucked into the chest pocket that the curly haired boy didn't need to know about.

He smiled happily as he turned to face her, closing his locker in the process. Clearly given the look on his face he hadn't heard yet about what went down last night because he would definitely be asking her about it right now. "Can you give this to Eddie for me and tell him that I'm sorry" she asked quickly, thrusting the shirt into his hands and while he was distracted by looking down at the shirt, she made her escape to avoid the impending questions he was bound to ask.

She was halfway down the hallway when she heard him shout her name but she didn't look back, instead pressed forward quicker to get to her first class and she slid into her seat just as the late bell rang.

By the time lunch came she was exhausted after having carefully planned routes to get to class in hopes of avoiding Eddie and more so Jason after her display the night before, and after successfully being the last one in and first one out of class she had managed to do so. Sighing in relief as she settled herself in the back corner of the library, feeling like she could breathe for the first time today because there was no way anyone would come looking for her in there but it also meant she was free from whispered rumours and judgemental looks from peers, most of which hadn't even been there and yet were still sprouting lies about her.

Lunch for Eddie was a very different matter entirely, he hadn't even been able to walk through the doors of the cafeteria before Jason and his goons were on him. The hateful nonsense about him he could handle but the names they were calling her were downright disgusting and none of which was true, so to say he was relieved when he reached the sanctuary of the Hellfire table was an understatement.

Or it was until Dustin arrived, practically throwing the checked fabric across the table to him with a look that said 'what did you do' that Eddie's breath faltered, she'd spoken to Dustin and avoided him all day so it couldn't be good. “You fucker, what did you do?” Dustin said, rather too loudly for the cafeteria and drew even more attention to their table than usual.

“You don’t know?” Mike asked from his usual seat beside the curly haired boy and when Dustin shook his head in response the whole table stared at him as though he had two heads, which was a look he was accustomed too but not from his friends.

“So you haven’t heard the rumours” Jeff asked, again Dustin shook his head no.

“So what the fuck do you know” Eddie huffed, he was getting agitated now because the girl he’d had a crush on had kissed him and then ran off and now here he was getting his shirt returned by a know it all freshman who normally he was quite fond of but now was pissed at.

“I know that she was meant to play with you guys last night and now this morning she looked like all she wanted to do was cry so I’ll ask again what the fuck did you do?” Dustin uttered, his frustration seeping into every word as his eyes narrowed on Eddie.

“That’s the thing he didn’t do anything” Gareth urged, jumping to Eddie’s defence as Dustin muttered what sounded like bullshit. “Seriously she got up on stage, she sounded amazing and then at the end she kissed him before running away, we didn't even know she was going to do it” he continued, sparing an apologetic glance towards Eddie for making him relive it again.

“You must have been a really bad kisser then to make her wanna cry” Dustin deadpanned before groaning as Mike’s elbow digged painfully into his ribs, although he wasn’t surprised to find out that she had kissed Eddie, to him it was clear to see that each of them had fallen for the other.

The sound of Eddie’s hands slapping the table drew their attention, “You don’t get it do you? I’m The Freak she’s probably upset because she regrets ever associating herself with me and the whole kiss thing I bet that was only to get back at Jason because let's face it a girl like that is never going to like a guy like me” he ranted, pushing himself away from the table and stalking off out of the cafeteria with his lunch box in one hand and shirt in the other.

Principal Higgins calls out to him as he makes his way to the exit but Eddie doesn’t stop, doesn’t even acknowledge him and he knows come tomorrow he’ll have detention but he doesn’t care, he just wants the day to be over with. He only breathes a sigh of relief when he’s climbing into the van, throwing everything onto the seat next to him apart from the shirt which is clutched tightly in his hand still and before he can stop himself he’s burying his face into the worn material, tears pricking at his eyes when he gets a whiff of her perfume that seems to be woven into the fabric after just one wear. Why did his life have to be like this? Everyone always left him, was ashamed of him and he just wanted her to be different. Well she was different but she proved to be just like everyone else in the end.

He couldn’t do this anymore, sick of feeling sorry for himself he threw the material into the back of the van, he’d deal with it later and probably burn it as he couldn’t stand the sight of it anymore. Starting the van he turned the radio up as loud as it would go, hoping the heavy metal would drown out his thoughts as he put the van into gear and sped out the parking lot as fast as he could, almost hitting a couple of sophomores on the way.

It was Tuesday again, a week had passed and Eddie hadn’t seen or thought about her in that time in an attempt to block out the pain that came with the memory or the sight of her. They had just completed another set at The Hideout, this one considerably less packed than the last one and as Jeff and Gareth were piling their equipment in the back of his van, they came across the shirt that Eddie had tossed the week prior and never got around to dealing with.

“Hey man, have you seen this” Jeff asked, holding the shirt up but in the dim light Eddie couldn’t see that his friend had caught sight of something in the pocket.

“Yeah I put it there” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes and hauling the last amp into the van.

“You put a note in the pocket?” Jeff replied, confused as he pulled out a small square of paper.

“Note? What the fuck are you talking about, there is no note” Eddie scoffed pulling back only to see that Jeff wasn’t lying. “Whatever it’s probably just a fake apology anyway, you can just throw it away” he said with a shake of his head, slamming the back doors closed and trying to control his breathing as he walked around to the drivers side.

“I don’t think it’s fake man, you gotta read this” Gareth spoke as soon as Eddie pulled the door open, open note in hand that he clearly snatched Jeff and nosied his way through in the short amount of time it took Eddie to walk around the van.

“I told you I really don’t care what it has to say” Eddie tried to protest but Gareth cut him off.

Eddie snatches the note from Gareth's hands as soon as he's finished speaking, partly because he doesn’t believe it’s actually from her. He’s so sure that it’s part of an elaborate scheme the two of them have come up with just to get him to try and talk to her because they’re certain that she’s in love with him and that he’s stupid for denying it. Although one look at the writing on the page is enough to confirm that it is from her, the writing is definitely hers and far too neat to be the boys’ attempt at a forgery.

“So what are you going to do?” Jeff’s voice breaks the silence that seems to have fallen over them all as they watch Eddie read and reread the note over again, his fingertips softly tracing over each word until he’s practically got it memorised word for word.

“I have to speak to her, let her know how much of an idiot she’s been for not seeing that I like her too” he says, his tone filled with resolve as he feels the invisible weight lift off of his shoulders now he knows how she feels.

The next morning Eddie’s at school early for once as he makes it his mission to find her, although it seems that he’s not the only one looking for her as he finds a crowd of people around her locker and at the centre is her and Jason. He feels his hands clench into fists by his sides at the thought of Jason tormenting her but as he gets closer he can’t help but listen to what's being said.

“You know you’ve been a slippery one this week, been hard to find you” Jason taunts, malice evident in his voice as he speaks.

“Why would you care, I’m not yours anymore, you don’t need to keep tabs on me” she sighs, books held tight to her chest in what looks like an effort to keep some distance between herself and the boy in front of her and Eddie doesn’t blame her, Jason’s put her through enough and all she wants is for him to leave her alone.

“So are you his then, Munson’s?” Jason challenges with a smirk on his face as he already knows the answer and it only grows when her face falls and she shakes her head, “Even the freak didn’t want you, guess no one ever will” he mocks with fake sympathy and that’s all Eddie can stomach to listen to as he pushes his way through the crowd, smiling at her when he sees her eyes widen at the sight of him.

He makes his way straight for her, ignoring Jason when he asks what he thinks he’s doing, instead he reaches for her, pulling her body into his so that her books are pressed between their torsos before he cups her reddening cheeks in his hands and leans in. When he kisses her she can’t help but feel a sense of relief to have his lips on hers again, even more so because he’s initiated it but he pulls back before the panic can set in about why he’s kissing her. She’s still a little dazed from the kiss but she doesn’t miss the way Eddie turns back to Jason without letting go of her and with the uttermost confidence in himself throws a curveball that the other boy wasn’t expecting.

“Of course she’s mine, Carver. Why? You jealous?” he mocks, raising an eyebrow in question to the dumbfounded boy.

Seemingly to have remembered there’s a crowd around them he collects himself, his usually cocky smile finding its way back onto his face. “Whatever freak, she’s not all that” he scoffs, turning on his heel and stalking off, clearly stating that that’s the end of the conversation and she feels Eddie’s hold on her tighten at Jason’s words as he tries to keep himself from following him and getting into a fight.

“We need to talk” he says, once the crowd disperses and the way he says it leaves no room for arguments but she knew he was right as she nodded letting him lead her away.

They end up in the library and thankfully it’s practically empty considering how early it is but that doesn’t stop him from leading her towards the back wall, clearly he doesn’t want anything or anyone to interrupt them. He finally comes to a stop by the encyclopaedias and she can’t help the way her brain commends his choice because you can guarantee these are the books that get checked out the least and when she turns back to Eddie his expression is serious which is something that is rarely seen and it makes her worry.

“You are an idiot” he deadpans, his face giving nothing away and she bites her lip in anticipation of what’s to come, “do you know how much it hurt when you gave Dustin my shirt, I thought it was your way of telling me you didn’t want me anymore and that fucking note, I would never have found it if Jeff hadn’t been nosy enough to go through my shit” he huffs, the frustration and anger of the past week coming out before he could even stop it as his hands tugged roughly on his curls.

“I’m sorry” her voice is small as she speaks, eyes wide and pleading with him to believe that she means it. “I just I know Jason gives you a lot of shit already but then I kissed you and you didn’t respond so I thought I’d messed everything up and well I was worried Jason would treat you even worse if he knew I’d moved on because despite what he says, he’s trying to get me back” she reveals and he softens straight away. He hadn’t even thought about why she’d done what she had, he’d been too focused on believing that she was ashamed to be with him.

“We’re both idiots” he sighs, a hand rubbing over his face before he meets her eyes again and then they’re both laughing, doubled over in the back of the library and they try to come back to their senses before they have the old librarian come to tell them off.

“We are” she smiles as their laughter subsides, “but I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, never wanna hurt you” she utters, vulnerability creeping back in as she goes all shy on him.

“I know sweetheart, I know” he reassures her, pulling her in again as she buries her face into his shirt and he can’t help but smile at how adorable she is. Leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the crown of her head and as he pulls away, she pulls back enough just to look at him. “You know I was serious earlier when I said you were mine, I want you to be, I wasn’t just saying it to piss off Jason though it was worth it to see the look on his face” he chuckles and he swears her smile gets even bigger.

“That’s good because I want to be yours too, if it wasn’t already obvious” she teases, fluttering her eyes innocently at him as she does so.

He shakes his head as he rolls his eyes at her but his love for her is clear on his face even if he hasn’t told her yet and he contemplates saying it but the bell goes leaving no time for anything else. As he walks her to her first class he can’t help but ask her to join the Hellfire table for lunch again, “You know Dustin blames me for all this, he’s completely convinced and won’t listen to reason” he tells her and she laughs at that.

“I knew there was a reason I liked the kid,” she says, nudging him with her shoulder as she bites back a smile as they come to a stop outside her history class.

“Yeah well maybe he’ll stop glaring daggers at me if he knows that we’re good” he adds, still hesitant to call her his girlfriend even though they’ve talked it out and she even told him that she wants to be his. As if sensing his sudden awkwardness, she pushes up on her toes as she snakes a hand around the back of his neck to gently tilt his head down before she kisses his lips softly enough that his lips tingle when she pulls away but it’s enough confirmation for now that she wants this. “I’ll see you at lunch”

“You will my love” she giggles at his dumbfounded face because of the pet name she called him as she enters the class leaving him out in the hall until the late bell rings and she watches from her seat as he snaps out of whatever daze he’s in and rushes towards his class with an adorable red flush on his cheeks.

Maybe taking the chance to kiss him was one of the best things she’s ever done, well a close second as breaking up with Jason Carver would always top the list.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #Spotify

322 notes · View notes