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hyunniesgirl · 5 months

Note

Can you make a one shot smut where like reader and Chan like REALLY hate each other, like CANNOT stand each other but like while reader is out partying she like sees Chan so for shits and giggles she goes up to him and flirts with him which ends up w Chan subbing and begging to cum. I’d like to be 🪼 anon pls :3 and ty if you do this !! 🙏🏼

I love the hate concept (I'm literally obsessed with hate sex), thank you for the ask ❣️ I hope you like it, I'm not really good with smut but I'm trying to get better!!

Something bad

Pairing: Bangchan x reader

Words count: 2,006

THIS CONTENT IS +18 ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: switch!Chan, switch!reader, hate relationship, handjob

You hate his guts. Bang Chan thinks he's all that, but in your opinion he's actually an asshole. You have known each other for so long you're not sure if you always hated him, but if not, you don't know when it started.

He's your brother's best friend, so he is always around, teasing you, making jokes about your hair in the morning or even bringing his hookups late at night, banging them in his room so loudly as if he wants you to hear how good he's making them feel.

You listen to everything from the guest room you sleep in when visiting and the smug look on his face when he sees your eyebags the next morning make you even more mad.

He's not much different from you, Chan likes to see your reactions, how red you get when you're angry about the simplest things he does to tease you or even how you avoid his eyes when you find him at the front door in the morning, saying goodbye to the people he fucked.

He'll look at you waiting for a complaint about the noise but you just look everywhere but his face. He loves that, love that your feisty attitude dies down after hearing him going on all night long. You're back to your usual self by lunch time, that's why he keeps bringing people every night when you visit, he wants to make you angry.

You're currently looking for an apartment, you just got out of uni and got a nice job, so you're staying with your brother just until you can sign the lease of the apartment you're renting with your two best friends.

They invited you to go out tonight, have some fun, maybe fuck a hot random stranger or just pass out drunk anywhere but your brother's house. Literally anything is a better option than another sleepless night of Chan fucking someone senseless and making you horny.

You would never, ever, admit this out loud, but the way you can hear him groaning sometimes when you get close to his room, just messes with your head. He IS an attractive man, even though you hate him, you cannot deny he is hot. Beautiful dark wavy hair, nice broad shoulders and that physic is just… you just know he could break you in half if he wanted to.

You shake your head, why are you having these strange thoughts again? He's your brother's best friend and the guy that makes your life a living hell every time you're in his house. Is it because he's here? Out of all places, why did he and his friends decide to come to the same party as you and your friends did?

“Should we go home?” You sigh, making your friends glare at you.

“Not even a chance”, Sana says, making you sigh. “Should we play a game? Maybe that will get you to relax”

She exchanges a glance with Yeji, smirking. You're already kinda dizzy from your previous drink, so you're not sure you understand what that look means. But you nod, drinking games are your thing, you love them all.

It was all premeditated, you're sure your friends knew Chan would be there with his crew, they are acquainted, after all. You know it was all planned when Yeji giggled, saying “I dare you to flirt with Chan”. Sana laughed so hard at your face after hearing that, saying “we are talking about a hard flirting, literally get a hard on out of him”

That's how you ended up walking in his direction now, feeling your face warm, at least the alcohol makes you feel more secure about yourself. You're looking hot today, wearing a tight short black dress with a neckline lower than how you usually wear, exposing a good piece of your skin and breast. You're sure you can pull Chan.

He stares at you up and down when you show up in front of him, you look smoking hot. He knows you're attractive, it's such a shame you're so annoying.

You greet his friends, you know all of them since they come buy a lot to your brother's and Chan apartment.

“Can I have a sip?” You ask Chan, sitting by his side at the booth. His friends look at each other, saying something you can't hear because of the loud music and then going to the dance floor.

“What do you want?” He ignores your question, scowling when you do the same to him, grabbing his drink and tasting it.

“Woah, this is bitter just like you”, you smile seeing him rolling his eyes.

“Are you drunk? Should I call your brother?” He asks, sighing.

“No, Channie”, you pout, calling the nickname you've heard so many people scream when they were fucking, “let's have some fun, hm? What do you think?”

You turn your body to stare at him, putting your hand on his chest, snuggling closer to him. He smells nice and the warmth his body emits makes you want to get even closer.

“What game are you playing?” He asks with a smug smile on his lips, brows lifted in question.

You sigh.

“It's truth or dare”, you tell, rolling your eyes. “Can't you just get hard already so I can be done?”

Chan chuckles, throwing his head back in a loud laugh, you know it's loud because you can hear it even with the loud music playing in the background.

“Do you really think you have what it takes to get me hard, little girl?” He asks playfully, making you scowl.

“Of course I do”, you tell him, crossing your arms.

You can't help but notice the look he sneaks at your breasts almost popping out of your dress. You decide to use that, in your favor.

“Do you wanna touch it, Channie?” You ask, touching your chest with your hands and squeezing your breasts up so he can have a better view.

“If I do get hard”, he clears his throat, “you should think about the consequences of what is going to happen after that”

“I will win the dare and go back to my friends”, you shrug.

Chan smiles, diabolically. Clicking his tongue.

“I don't think so”, he turns to you, sliding his hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh while he gets closer to your face. “If you do manage to get me hard, I'll take you home and you're going to take care of it. So you better think carefully about your next move”

You feel goosebumps all over your body, it's because you're grossed out, right? You would never feel turned on with Chan speaking so closely to you, his hot breath hitting your skin has nothing to do with the warmth growing in your lower stomach.

“You know what I think, Channie?”, you try to take back control over the situation, “you're afraid your best friend's little sister is going to make you so horny you won't be able to do anything other than beg to cum”, you slide your hand to the hem of his shirt, sliding it under the fabric and brushing your nails on his stomach, close enough to his cock to provoke a reaction out of him.

Chan breaths through his teeth, trying to control himself. He tried being confident, saying those things to you so you'd get scared and go back to your friends. He didn't think you would keep going and now he's not so sure about what he said, since you clearly are managing to get him hard.

He slides his hand under your dress, feeling how wet your underwear is and decides to use that in his favor.

“Are you sure you want to keep this up?” He asks, brushing his fingers over your covered cunt. You don't avoid his gaze, staring at him intensely, you're not going to give in. He smirks, well, if he can't escape this, he better have some fun. “Let’s see who's gonna be the one begging”

You're not sure how the hell you got there, in a moment Chan was whispering something to you and the next he was dragging you to the bathroom, throwing you against the wall. His lips are attached to your neck, sucking so hard you're sure it's gonna leave marks. Your body is pressed against his and you feel his hard cock on your stomach, now that you manage to get him hard it's time to stop it, so why is the only sound that comes out of your mouth muffled moans?

He slides his hands under your skirt, moving your underwear to the side while he presses a finger on your clit.

You have to do something, you need to take control. Your hand touches his covered cock and Chan groans, resting his head on the wall. He hates the idea of leaning on you.

You work fast, unbuttoning his pants and sliding your hand under his underwear, grabbing his cock in a fist, going up and down, feeling his cock twitching in your hand.

Chan was too cocky, he shouldn't have let you do this. Your touch is just too good, he can't help but moan subtly with every stroke you give to his dick.

He's growing restless, even though he's working with his fingers on you he knows it's a lost case. Your hand is soft, massaging his cock gently but firmly and the look in your eyes, like you're watching your prey, the way you have your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, enjoying seeing him panting while you play with him, it's just too much for him. He feels his orgasm getting closer, you can tell by the way his cock is twitching so you slow the speed of your hand, earning a frustrated groan from him.

“Do you like it, Channie?” You ask playfully, watching his voice crack when he tries to speak.

“Stop teasing, you fucking brat”, he grunts.

“That's not what I want to hear, baby”, you say as your index finger twirls over the head of his cock. “Do you wanna cum?”

He nods, feeling the blush on his cheeks grow, he can't believe he's humiliating himself like that.

“Tell me”, you smirk, “tell me what you want, be a good boy for me, yeah?”

You're feeling extra confident now, seeing him whimper when you get back to jerking him off.

“L-Let me cum”, he whispers too low, you're not even sure if you heard him.

“You can do better, Channie”, you tell him, fastening your movements.

“Please”, he whimpers, “let me cum”, he throws his head back, he doesn't want to give in so easily but your hand around him is just divine, he wants to cum so badly he doesn't mind begging at that moment.

“More”, you tell him simply, “beg more”

“Please, I just-” he whimpers.

“Are you going to stop being so mean to me?” You ask, trying to get something out of this, since you have him so vulnerable right now.

He nods frantically, needing his release more than anything. You keep jerking him off faster, while watching him moan, your hand going up and down on his cock.

His cum springs all over your hands, while he groans with faltering movements, trying to calm down from his high. You're almost sure you heard him sob, but if that really happened, he hid it really well.

After cleaning up the mess he made on your hand, you look at him with a pretentious victorious smile.

“I guess I won”, you cross your arms in front of your chest and Chan sighs, not able to look you in the eyes. Acting exactly like you do when you find him and his last fuck in the living room of his apartment.

“Let's just pretend this never happened”, he tells you, turning around and going out of the bathroom.

But you're not so sure if you'll be able to leave him alone now that you tasted this side of him.

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mywritingonlyfans · 9 months

Note

hi, i like the last one xx could you do one with cillian where she briefly feels insecure about being with him, maybe because of her age, and he fucks her into safe space. thanks xx

it's not big but i hope you liked it! (it's smut; fem oral, riding and some missionary, but it's comfy and goofy). 3K words.

...

Yours. // Cillian Murphy X Reader! (Smut)

You appeared distant, your gaze unfocused, but it was evident that your unease had nothing to do with sadness caused by him. Silence filled the car, a departure from the usual comfort it provided between you. Your eyes were fixed on the road, avoiding his, a shift that had taken place sometime before leaving the party. As he drove, he lightly brushed his fingers over your knees, his touch gentle, leaving his hand there for reassurance once he realized that you weren't feeling unwell because of him. Your delicate hand touched his, fingers playfully interlocking, and you found solace in that simple contact. He found himself smiling gently at the gesture.

"Do you want to talk, doll?" he inquired, acknowledging your discomfort. You shook your head, still displaying signs of a troubled mind. He respected your response, considering revisiting the topic at a later time. It was intriguing to think that even with his eyes half-closed and his fists clenched, he could sense that something was amiss with you. He disliked seeing you worried, getting a sight of you like that did that to him.

Upon arriving home, things unfolded as usual. He shed his blazer as you removed your coat, and in the midst of heavy breaths, he embraced you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms wrapped around you with tenderness before you pulled back slightly. No words were exchanged, but he stood there with you. Persistent tears welled in your eyes, emotions too strong to contain. You had hoped to avoid this; thinking that you would just sleep with him intertwined the way you loved, and by morning, everything would be clear. However, you now felt that you couldn't do that, you needed his extra warmth to help this pass, even if you wished it could just pass on its own.

In your mind, avoiding moments like this would possibly make you seem more mature in his eyes. But all he really wanted was for you to feel comfortable enough with him, that any of your concerns could be shared with him. After all, he loved you, and it was only fair that you’d both be a safe space for each other. Cupping your face, he carefully kissed you, and you responded with slow, pleasurable movements, allowing him to guide you through it. Gradually, he kissed away your tears, until a soft smile broke through your silent tears. You embraced him, seeking solace in his chest, finding his embrace unlike any other. He kissed the top of your head in silence, waiting until you let go calmly.

"I feel so silly," you whispered, wiping your cheeks with your hands and allowing his eyes to comfort you. In truth, he held no judgment in those eyes.

"You're not," he said, his voice strong yet comforting. It could whisk away your worries and clear your mind. "If it's bugging you, then it ain't silly," he added, his hands resting easy on your waist, fingers pressing gently. He motioned for you to settle on his lap as he made himself comfy on the couch near the entrance. A soft chuckle slipped from you, and his gaze locked onto yours. This time, the silence felt easygoing, and you held his eye until you felt like talking. He had a knack for calming you down.

"I'm kinda feeling a hint of jealousy, not a big deal, but it's niggling at me. But I want you to know it's not 'cause I don't trust you. That ain't it," you explained. Your body was rigid and your hands cold. He nodded, giving you space to keep going if you wanted. A shiver trickled down your spine as you held him closer, the hug cozy, every inch of his frame against yours. You could feel the warmth of his chest as he responded with a comforting sigh. Despite the run-in with that woman who'd tried to get his attention earlier, he hadn't even hesitated to brush her off. By now, he'd forgotten what her face looked like.

"I'm all yours," his words felt like a lullaby, urging you to nestle into the crook of his neck, his scent enveloping you as he molded himself around you. The way he said it, so sure and free of doubt, soothed you. You held on tighter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he chuckled softly and shifted to make sure you were comfy. Slowly, his hands started to wander over your dress. Even though it was kinda sensual, his touch and the way he looked at you were more about admiration than anything else.

"I get that," you giggled, your cheeks turning a bit hot as you admitted it. You knew he'd never given you reason to doubt. He nodded and his fingers brushed your chin, his blue eyes tracing every feature on your face. "I'm having trouble wrapping my head ‘round it, babe," a tiny wrinkle formed between his brows, showing his confusion. A gentle kiss from you smoothed it out.

"She was pretty attractive, and she's your age," you sighed, your words getting caught in your throat. "I get you don't really care about that stuff, ‘bout her, but you can't always predict who you might fall for, you know? And it scares me that it could happen, even if I can't explain why it’s bothering me so much right now..." He listened close, catching some of it, and he felt grateful you were sharing your feelings with him, even with you worrying over nothing. But he couldn't lie that he had his own fears about losing you and he'd circled around these thoughts sometimes too. Seeing you upset tugged at his heart.

"I love hearing what's on your mind," his warm hands traveled up your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze as he pulled them closer. He wanted you to feel heard. You nibbled your lip, a tingling creeping up your face. He chuckled, like you both knew where this was heading. "I think you're perfect, this dress makes you even more stunning, and I love how confident you get when you're with me. And I love how you look at me," his cheeks and nose had a cute flush. His voice dropped low, like it was meant for you only, and you laughed with your eyes at him.

It was good to watch because most of all, he was still shy, and it was remarkable, but he wanted to see you well.

"Do you ever think you might fall for someone else?" His question had you shaking your head right away. You couldn't imagine finding anyone even close to him, or even having room to think about it. "I know I couldn't. I'm so caught up thinking about you, there's no space for anyone else. And I love that," you nodded, his words resonating deep inside. As you brought his lips to yours, you relished the surprised sigh that escaped him. Although the kiss ended softly, he held your face firmly, his earlier intention still clear in his mind since leaving the house.

"You're my girl," he affirmed, brows serious and jaw clenched. Your blood was already pumping through your veins at that declaration. Your fingers found the first buttons of his shirt, undoing them coolly and freeing a bit of his bare skin while his words echoed in your head, his gaze intently fixed on you. Your hands slipped inside his shirt, and he relaxed as he felt you trail your touch from his chest hair to his shoulders. "Can I unbutton all of them?" you asked sweetly, anticipation lacing your voice. God, he wanted to show you right there that there'd never be anyone for him but you. He nodded, your trembling fingers undoing the last few buttons. It was cute how you got a bit flustered in these initial moments, as if you'd never been in them before. He could never get much of that.

"I sorta need you," your breath hitched, and he chuckled, understanding. "I can feel it, little one," he took your hand in his and kissed it, then you traced the sharp line of his cheekbone and ran your thumb over his freckles. He closed his eyes, and you found yourself melting into his embrace, adoring the more pronounced lines of his expressions, the way they smiled and relaxed along with him, making it clear that he didn't regulate his age with yours. But it was lovely. He was so attractive, in a way that was hard to keep up with when he was this close. You brushed his hair away from his face and touched your lips to his forehead, placing kisses along his nose, cheeks and down his neck, and over his shoulders until you found your way to his chest. Your body was restless, and while you might not have recognized it, he could feel the heat building beneath you. He let out a low grunt, spreading out across the seat as you wriggled on top of him, peppering him with kisses and playful bites.

"I think I should show you just how much you're my girl, don't you think?" His voice was firm, sending shivers to your soul. His hands were thicker, more striking than yours, and you couldn't help but notice the contrast. He motioned for you to stand in front of him, and you obliged. Things moved in their own time, but in your perspective, everything seemed to slow down, your stomach churning with anticipation.

"I don't want any bad thoughts lingering in your head, not even the most fleeting ones, got it?" Still seated, he lifted the hem of your dress, placing wet kisses on your thighs until he reached your lower belly. His nose nuzzled into your skin, so gentle it made you feel slightly guilty for being this desperate. Cillian chuckled as he observed how readily you lifted the fabric to give him better access, and with his eyes on you, he trailed his fingertips along your pulsating nerve, seemingly begging for his touch. You pulled back a little, but he shook his head. "Don't move, little one," he anchored your hip with a firm grip, his fingers circling the area, your body involuntarily pressing into his touch for more. He let out a deep, drawn-out sigh as he felt you make his tips lightly sticky through the thin fabric. His throat tightened as his temples throbbed, his body yearning to feel you melt under his mouth as you always did so wonderfully.

Without dragging it out for too long, as he knew he wouldn't be able to bear it for much time, he delicately interlocked his fingers with the hems and pulled them down. His lips moistened as he saw the lace peel off you with some difficulty due to how damp it was. And sure, there was indeed a wet patch on your panties. For balance, you grasped his shoulders, squeezing eagerly with a pleading gaze, and he shut his, kissing the area, his mouth watering and devoid of prior thoughts. He held you firmly in place and licked from the center up, gathering your essence on his tongue, his eyes closing in pure pleasure at being able to feel you. Yours clenched shut, and your mouth fell open as you experienced the warm sensation and perfect pressure of how he sucked you, as if it truly granted him as much bliss as it did for you.

You gently grasped the back of his head, urging him closer, and you could sense him smiling as you struggled to remain composed for him. As you caressed his soft hair, he nuzzled the tip of his nose against your clit before sucking it between his lips, causing you to moan so wantonly. He was already a mess, lost in your scent and taste enveloping him, while you panted breathlessly. When you opened your eyes and saw his hair, those delicate tresses, both ash and dark intertwined in a chaotic dance, you became a bit more alert, tugging on the strands to have him look at you. He deserved your attention that night too; you didn't want this to go unnoticed.

With his eyes locked onto yours, your body still trembling, you found your words stuck in your throat. He was just as desperate as you, though he concealed it well. The snug trousers he wore due to his position, and the zipper left open, which you only noticed now, made you wonder how uncomfortable he was. "Can I ride you, babe?" Your voice was soft yet mesmerizing to him. He appreciated how you always asked, an act so delicate for such a moment, but it had become characteristic, and he would certainly miss it if you changed.

"I want to be good for you," you whispered, and he couldn't deny that even if he tried as he shed the layers of fabric that held your disapproval. He marveled at how flustered and nervous you sounded, unable to control both your mind and your senses at the same time. And in a matter of seconds, you were on his lap once again, your head nestled on his shoulder as he kissed your neck and face, and you began to grind against him, your touches growing more fervent.

As he burned against your skin, he lifted you, albeit clumsily, hoisting up your dress and letting you settle onto him with a prolonged groan, your needy hands clinging to his arm. You held onto him, your muscles quivering as you gazed into his calm eyes, his expression relaxed as you took your time to adjust to him. You were sore and wet, feeling him all over you, full and comfortable, even if not fully stretched due to your eagerness. But every second was worth it.

You worked your way onto him, lifting yourself slightly and settling back down, taking him all into you. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky and accentuated, filling you up completely. “Aren’t you, doll?”

His words took effect on you, and his gaze held the purest contentment as he watched you stumble through forming responses, not that he needed them. His movements were slow, letting you take the lead. Your lips were slightly parted, legs tightly wrapped around him. In fact, you were only holding yourself together because he was supporting you. The straps of your dress slipped to the side, gracefully as if watching a painting dry. Assisting you, he squeezed your thighs, using his thumb to press between your legs, exerting pressure on your clit. Your body immediately responded to the extra stimulus, and you collapsed onto him with a slight moan.

"It's okay, pretty girl, I've got you," he whispered amidst more persistent sighs, his hands gaining a rhythm against your hips, making your body more relaxed and ready to accommodate him. You rubbed yourself on him just beautifully. His lips grazed your collarbone, wet kisses and nips tracing over your exposed skin. He lowered the straps further, your breasts on display for him, in a gentle sway prompted by you. He took one in his mouth, your nails grazing him, marks he knew would be left, but he relished in it. He sucked on the flesh, releasing it with a wet sound before giving the same attention to the other, fingertips skimming over the erect nipple and then warm tongue soothing you through it all. Your hands tangled in his hair, a sound escaping him as he rested his forehead against yours, leaving you even more soaked. Your legs grew sluggish, and you found yourself grinding against him more than riding, a detail he didn't miss. He lifted with you briefly, and soon you were lying on your back, him atop you. His face was still close, breath mixing with yours in the warm space between you. You clung to his shirt collar firmly, both for control and to keep him close, and he chuckled. "Please, I'm aching, Cill," your vision blurred as tears formed, your body trembling without any movement from him. He trailed the tip of his nose across yours, his hair falling onto your face, which you brushed aside to kiss him better. You hugged him tight, curling into his chest, and gradually, air filled your lungs as your body was brought up and down with his.

"You're being so good to me. Look at what you do to me, fuck. How could you even think you're not just mine, and only mine alone?" His voice was disoriented, husky and staggered, clearly needing to focus intently to sound coherent. And then his gaze locked onto you, eagerly waiting to take in every last bit of it. He was gentle, even in his urgency, and you loved that he knew your body so well that you didn't have to tell him what you needed; he was exactly what you needed. With him deep inside you, feeling your senses growing restless, he braced his hands above your head, applying more pressure, your eyes closing as he held you close. The tears running down your cheeks that would soon be kissed clean. He loved to watch it. He whispered soothingly for you to calm down, sweet nothings while he thrust you through that sensation until your mind was filled with his rough, broken moans as he peaked along with you. His body collapsed onto yours, the weight becoming comfortable, his fingers tracing lines among the scattered freckles on his back, and he didn't fail to kiss your exposed skin. "I love you," you said, breathless, his hand affectionately running over you. You were right; you'd fall asleep next to him, entwined, and wake up with a clearer mind. You could already imagine waking up in his shirt, going to sit on his lap while he wore his glasses and had a book ready to be put aside for your more important presence. No one else could bring you the comfort he did. He settled beside you, both your breaths gradually returning to normal, and just before his lips brushed yours in a smile, he whispered in his lazy voice, "I love you, and I'm yours, only yours, my girl."

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x y/n #fanfic

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folkookie97 · 3 months

Text

❝ blue valentine ❞ — JJK

— SUMMARY: ❝ No welcoming hugs or your voice humming one of his songs while you cooking one his favorite recipes. Jungkook noticed that you already knew about everything he did. ❞

— PAIRING: fiancé!Jungkook x female!reader

— TYPE: angst

— WORD COUNT: 883

— WARNINGS: Inspired by Babe (Taylor Swift), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cheating, Infidelity, POV Second Person, Established Relationship/Engagement, Argument, Swearing

— NOTES: Sorry guys but today my mood is something like 'Look at this... they're holding hands. I want them dead'. But I hope you like it <3

— RELEASE DATE: February 14, 2024

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

"You already know, don't you?"

The words left Jungkook's lips before he could control them. As much as he wanted to sound kinda nonchalant, he felt a pain in the back of his neck starting to bother him beyond usual.

He noticed what was about to happen the moment he entered the living room, closing the door behind him and without any sign of your presence waiting for him to come home. No welcoming hugs or your voice humming one of his songs while you cooking one his favorite recipes.

Jungkook noticed that you already knew about everything he did. He could see it in the dark circles under your watery eyes that kept looking at the TV in the room, even without paying real attention to the movie.

You just nodded your head, feigning disinterest about your fiancé's question — even though he could notice how your hands tightened the blanket that protected yourself from the cold.

"Honey—" Jungkook started, feeling his voice tremble and the bitter taste of blood in his throat. How many hours had he been almost biting his own lips?

Probably since he got on the plane to go home.

To come back to you.

You didn't even move, you just switch the focus of your attention for a few seconds. At the same time your eyes met his, Jungkook's heart broke into thousands of little pieces. But the gaze didn't last long. “Don't do it. I don’t wanna talk about that now, Jungkook.”

Before he could get the chance to argue against it or beg you to listen his apologies, you glared at him one more time, sending tremors through each of his limbs. He could barely sustain an exchange of gazes with you.

His fiancée. The love of his life. The one he longed to care for and protect until the end of his life. The one he should never break the heart to.

"Today is Valentine's Day."

Damn, he had really screwed up.

Swallowing hard, he nodded his head. "I... I know."

Your mocking chuckle reminded him that you knew him better than anyone. "I often can recognize your shitty attempts to lie to me. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Fuck. "My love—" He tried to get closer to you and your double bed's edge, but the simple stretching of your hand towards him stopped his body.

Where was your engagement ring?

Something in your mind clicked on. "STOP CALLING ME LIKE THAT! ARE YOU DEAF? Didn't you listen me telling you that I don't wanna talk about your fucking cheating right now?" Jungkook's heart skipped a beat at the acidity in your tone.

The scary and new doubt in his thoughts was breaking him more than ever. "Where's your ring?"

"Wow, I'm glad you care about our engagement. When I saw so many pictures of you and that hot girl kissing at an afterparty of one of your shows, I really thought you had forgotten about it for a few minutes."

Jungkook whimpered due to your sarcasm, ignoring the fire in your gaze as he sat down next to you, already letting a river of tears run down his flushed cheeks. "Please, honey... You know I love you. That... that was a terrible mistake."

"Oh, Kookie..." His nickname never felt so painful on your lips. "I think 'terrible' is a very simple word to express how humiliating this is for me."

You felt like throwing up when he whimpered again, the bright tears suddenly progressing into a loud, annoying cry. You never imagined you would be so repulsed by looking into his Bambi eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please, honey..." Jungkook sobbed, ignoring her grumbles and pulling her into a tight hug.

You tried to push him away, taking off the weight of his arms that held you, afraid that you might escape after a blink of an eye. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't do it. "JUNGKOOK! LET GO OF ME! STAY THE FUCK AWAY!"

The more you tried freeing yourself from his body, the more Jungkook cried like a little child. You hated seeing him cry, almost as much as you hated him in that moment. Almost as much as you hated the pain in your heart begging yourself to forgive him. Begging yourself to keep loving him. Begging youself to give in and ignore your own mind.

You barely realized you were also a blubbering mess until you found it difficult speaking without letting out little shaky cries. "I fucking hate you. I... I hate you so bad, Jungkook. I hate what you did to me. To us."

"Me too..." Jungkook's voice sounded more broken than before and mixed with loud crying as he lightly opened his arms, freeing you from his desperate hug. "I hate myself too..."

"You disgust me, you're so disgusting. How could you do this?" You sobbed again, using all your effort to look away. If you let yourself be carried away by those pretty eyes that begged for your forgiveness, that story would repeat itself one day. You couldn't handle the possibility of living that situation all over again. "Oh my God. You really blew this. I hate you. You don't... You don't deserve me."

"I know..."

He really knew.

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aesethewitch · 5 months

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Personal Protection: Surviving the Holidays

I'm of the opinion that far too many people around this time of year are fucking around, and it's high time they get to the finding out part. With major holidays right around the corner, many of us will be facing relatives we'd rather not see, parties we'd rather not go to, and conversations we'd rather avoid or exit as soon as possible. Political spats, unwanted opinions, snide remarks -- I believe that what you give out, you ought to receive back.

So, obviously, let's do some magic about it.

There are three main components to my method:

The Bubble;

The Quills; and

The Shake

The Bubble

Exactly what it sounds like, "the bubble" is the outermost layer of protection around you. It's the barrier between you and the unpleasantness you're trying to keep out.

The bubble can be one item carried or worn (such as a hat, crystal, or charm), or it can be multiple. I usually spring for two items, one to absorb/recycle and one to bounce/return to sender.

Absorb:

I've got a relative who is, at their essence, a fucking downer. That would be fine if not for the fact that if they're having a bad time or are mildly uncomfortable, it's about to be everyone's problem. This kind of negativity is something to absorb, not bounce. Sending it back would only double their misery, and that's no good for anyone.

So, instead, I have a special charm that I make for occasions when I know they're going to be around. It consists of a little piece of sponge that's sat in salt for a while atop a transformative sigil. The sponge, once fully charged and ready, will absorb the negative energy and recycle it into more positive feelings.

This means that their negativity won't impact me at all, and I actively improve the atmosphere. Their bad attitude can't do anything if everyone around us is only getting good vibes. The charm is powered by the exchange of negative to positive energy, so it requires no charging. However, it's smart to discard the sponge once it's done its job.

Bounce:

But sometimes, somebody's got to face real consequences. There are some things I don't want to deal with at all. Like gross political opinions from my conservative, religious family members. Or questions about having children.

The idea of the bounce is to reflect things before they reach me. It's a sort of glamor spell that projects an aura of "don't bother." It essentially lets me be passed over for conversations I want to leave or avoid entirely by bouncing attention away from me.

Negative energy, bad vibes, whatever you want to call it -- the goal is to return it to where it's coming from. Someone who's being an asshole will feel like an asshole. If it works right, they'll stop talking altogether because they're so irritated with what they're saying. I've had aggressive, vocal relatives go completely silent because they were receiving their own rancid energy back to themselves instead of the attention they were hoping for.

For me, this spell takes the form of a charm on my keys. It's a form of an evil eye charm -- not the blue-eyed stare you most likely think of, but another symbol meant to distract attention from me to it. It's a little pewter casting of the fig sign, an old and obscene gesture. It works on malevolent spirits best, but it does a great job of repelling unfortunate people, too. It bounces their nonsense back to themselves, often causing confusion, which forces them to reconsider what they're saying.

Again, this lives on my keys, which live in a key bowl when they're not clipped to my pocket or belt loop. The key bowl has a multi-purpose charging setup for the keys, my wallet, and other assorted charms I might wear when I go out.

The Quills

Sometimes, things get past our main line of defenses. That's fine, it happens. But under these circumstances, it happens because someone has deliberately crossed a line. So now, they get the quills.

When I say "the quills," you should be picturing something like a porcupine. Adorable, yes, but fuck with it at your own risk. Those quills aren't just for show, and neither should yours be. This is your second line of defense, and it's where we turn to offense.

Accordingly, the quills aren't passive spells like the bubble. These require conscious activation and direction to give you maximum control over their output. You can make your quills passive, but I often find that baneful workings work best when you're specifically choosing to use them.

Yes, baneful, and let me be perfectly clear: The goal is to harm whoever's crossed the line. You're not just returning to sender. You're catching what they've thrown at you, lighting it on fire, and pitching it back at full force.

To that end, there are two approaches I typically take (and are you sensing a pattern? I like to do things in twos). One spell to sharpen the tongue and give as good as I've gotten, and one to induce the smallest of lingering curses on the target.

Sharpen

The whole point of the quills is to make yourself an inconvenient, difficult target. Part of being difficult to swallow is not going down easily. Often, the answer is to avoid the conversation or problem altogether, but it isn't always possible. Or satisfying.

Sometimes, you gotta take a bitch down.

For me, this charm needs to do two things. It should boost my confidence in standing my ground and add some oomph to my argument. I have a pin with a particular design on it charmed for this purpose. The needle operates as the quill for stabbing (the oomph), and the design provides the confidence. Anointed with my Fuck Off Oil and laid in a dish of salt, garlic, and red chili flakes, the pin becomes extra spicy and effective.

This one has to be recharged each time it's used. It always lives on the same jacket, but I'll anoint it regularly to keep it fresh. If I use the charm on someone, I'll take the pin off at the end of the night and set it in the spicy salt mixture.

Linger

By far one of the most effective methods for reducing nonsense from unpleasant people I interact with regularly is lingering consequences. When someone associates bad luck with interacting with you, even on a subconscious level, they tend to avoid you.

Consider this the "slow poison" on the quills. The goal isn't to ruin their life by any means (although, I suppose you could...). It's just to make yourself unpalatable on an instinctive level. Think of how poisonous frogs are brightly colored to display that they're, you know, deadly. That's what we're doing here.

I prefer to use something kind of dangerous. Something you can hold onto and point with is best, in my experience. I've used a broken piece of glass, a rusty nail or screw, and various thorns. Right now, I'm using one half of a rusty pair of old cooking shears. The handle broke, but the blades are still sharp as hell. Waste not, and all that.

Anoint whatever the sharp, dangerous thing is in an oil infused with herbs and spices of your choice (again, the Fuck Off Oil is a good example). Or, if you prefer, coat it in something like hot sauce, urine, rust, or other corrosive and unpleasant things. Once prepared, stow it in your bag. Or your glove box, if you drive, since this makes a nice on-the-go curse to cast at shitty drivers.

You don't need to pull it out for it to work, but if you can get to a safe, secluded space (like a bathroom), it can help you focus. When you're creating it, you should set up an activation word, phrase, or motion. I prefer a motion -- something like tapping wherever the object is, a swirling movement with my hand, and then pointing at the target.

The curse you place is up to you. I tend to go for something like feeling nauseous or getting a headache. The spell should draw a connection between them being nasty to you and the unpleasant feeling, whether overt or subconscious. They'll be more cautious and reluctant to be a dick to you afterwards.

The Shake

Like a dog. Get that shit off of yourself.

No matter how thorough you are, there are always gaps and particularly stubborn people getting into them. Something they say just sticks to you like a burr, sharp and irritating. Or depressing, maybe.

The idea behind the shake is literal. You're forcibly removing the heavy weight or annoying itch someone else has placed on you. The shake isn't necessarily an item like with the bubble and quills. It can be, but it doesn't have to be.

Essentially, the steps to the shake are:

Identify what feels bad

Shake that shit

Resume normal activities

Maybe it's the neurodivergent in me, but physical movement is incredibly soothing. Self-regulation tactics are essential for survival. Transforming that into a little spell ritual at the same time is just two birds with one stone.

When things get overwhelming or I can feel my bubble failing to keep everything out at once (such as if a fight breaks out or someone decides to go in depth about one of my triggers), I remove myself from the situation. That's the first step. Retreat to a safe place, whether that's outside, in my car, in the bathroom, or elsewhere that's quiet. The second step is to figure out where in my body the anxiety or bad feeling is sitting. Often, it's in my shoulders and hands, but sometimes it's elsewhere.

Step three is to fucking shake. Shake those hands, roll my shoulders, jump up and down. Whatever it takes. As I do, I'm forcibly dislodging everything unpleasant out of myself and into the open air. And because I've got the negativity-absorbing bubble, it'll take the bad feeling and repurpose it into something more positive. Then, once I'm better, I can go back.

Again, you don't need an object for this, but you can certainly create one. Options would be comforting items, fidget toys, or even something like a joint. Sometimes, you just gotta blow smoke about it. You know?

Fun fact, though: You could also carry a vessel to contain the Bad Feelings for later use instead of letting your bubble absorb them. This comes in handy for people who are particularly abusive... as an example of what you want them to experience under the force of a more involved cursing.

If you like my work, consider throwing a tip my way! Supporters get early, exclusive, and extended access to my work for as low as $1.

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violetrainbow412-blog · 7 months

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Day 7: sharing clothes

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

That night Spencer arrived at his apartment quite tired, to the point of wanting to go straight to bed.

He had to admit that splitting the rent for an apartment hadn't convinced him at all at first, however, with each passing month he felt luckier to have someone to keep him company and help him with household chores. It's not that the girl he had as a roommate took care of everything, but because she was a university student, she had more free time and Spencer repaid him for all the favors by being her walking library or even helping him study the topics for the seasonal exams, as a kind of win-win.

“Spencer?” he heard from the common area, just as he was taking off his shoes. Still wearing his socks, he walked across the carpet until he reached the door and opened it, looking at you on the other side.

"Yeah?"

“Hey, can you lend me a tie for tomorrow?” you asked sadly. He was surprised to notice that you were wearing a formal suit, very different from the carefree outfits you usually wore, and for a moment he imagined you as a member of the BAU. “I have to attend a conference and I must follow the code of etiquette and stuff, but I don't want to wear a dress”

“Yeah, I must have some around here,” he laughed, turning to rummage through the closet. Spencer was very organized, in a strange way, so it didn't take him long to find what you needed “Do you like this one?”

“It's perfect, thank you,” you exclaimed, taking the purple tie he was offering you between your fingers. You couldn't know it, but the soft purple fabric was almost new and that was why he had chosen it, so that you would wear the best.

“Do you know how to tie it?” he mumbled and from the awkward smile you showed him he assumed the answer was no. He wrapped it around your neck and gently pulled you towards him, managing to cut your breath. With one hand on each end of it he began to tie it, frowning and lightly pursing his lips as a sign of his concentration, until a nice knot was ready “Keep it like this and tomorrow you just slide it on, okay?”

“You're my hero,” you exclaimed happily, carefully holding the tie he had so carefully prepared “I made macaroni for dinner, do you want to join me?”

“Yeah,” he responded with a shrug.

The two of you had dinner together and after that you went to sleep, lacking the energy to stay awake any longer. In the morning you got up earlier than usual to get ready and in the process you noticed that your partner was walking around the apartment, moving here and there as if he were looking for something.

"What are you doing?"

“I can't find my scarf,” he lamented. “I probably left it in the laundry bag. Or so I hope"

“Take mine,” you offered kindly. From one of the drawers in your closet you took out a bright red scarf and extended it to the man, who hesitated whether to accept it or not “Come on, it's the least I can do. I don’t want you to catch a cold or we’ll have to quarantine you” you joked and then he finally took it.

“Good luck with your conference, take a lot of notes and if something is not clear, you can tell me”

“Good luck with your work too. Are you coming to dinner today?”

"I don't know"

“Well, either way I’ll wait for you,” you said kindly. Spencer responded with a smile and waved goodbye to you, making sure to adjust her scarf before leaving the apartment.

And that exchange was only the beginning for two closets to become, after a long time, practically one.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555@r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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dawndelion-winery · 2 years

Text

Get Lucky

Meeting the god of luck (you)

Ft. Arlecchino, Capitano, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone

Arlecchino:

Her loyalty lies wherever she most benefits from it

Which is why she reveres you so, the one god who could enable her endeavours regardless of what they were by granting her good fortune

So she was exhilarated at the prospect of meeting you in person

She makes sure she has her usual offerings prepared, along with some extra, since she'll have the opportunity to hand them to you herself instead of relying on an altar

Despite maintaining her usual stature, there's a clear excitement in her body language

Her eyes widen when you motion for her to come closer, hesitantly stepping towards you, as though she's unsure if she's allowed this proximity

I hope you don't mind being stared at, because she's observing you very keenly as any devout worshipper would, trying to gauge your reaction to each of her offerings

Which of course, means she'll take note of any preferences you mention in passing

That includes if you mention preferring homemade meals

Suddenly the orphanage chefs are met with a very eager Arlecchino in full chef's attire ready to cook up a buffet for her beloved god

Capitano:

Luck can be crucial on the battlefield, which is why he finds himself frequenting your shrines and altars every so often, hoping you'll keep him and his soldiers alive

And he truly does believe in your strength, with the number of close calls he's had

It's because of that that he likes to think he's one of your favourites

So meeting you in person? He's nothing short of chivalrous

He offers to escort you wherever you need to go

It's one of the ways he can thank you apart from prayers and offerings

He also hopes that in spending time with you, a bit of your luck would brush off onto him

He's also not quite as shy as Arlecchino in his devotion, so he'll ask you what you think of the gifts he prepares for you and change them accordingly

He also absolutely does that kiss on your knuckles to show respect

Childe:

Unless you're one of the deities of Snezhnaya, you aren't of much importance to Childe

That is until his little siblings tell him about how you answered their prayers, granting them bits of luck in exchange for their little offerings of candy and old toys

That's when he starts to think it might be a good idea to have you protect his family too

When you meet him, it suddenly becomes clear why you've received so much seafood the past few months

Because he greets you with more fish and trinkets he gets from beating mobs up

He knows what the Tsaritsa wants from him, since she's his boss, but you? Not so much, which means he offers you whatever he can

Mora? He knows Zhongli appreciates it, so maybe you will too. Confectionery? The god of eternity seems to like them

But of course, he knows that you aren't them, hence the trinkets and fish

To which you'll have to explain that you don't need that much fish, especially since whatever he catches for you tends to range from massive to obscenely humongous

He does look sad when you tell him that, because he thinks it means you aren't happy with his offerings but continued to bless him and his family anyway

He's even worse when you comfort him though, because he takes it as his sign to try again

Which means observing what most of your worshippers offer up and one upping them by getting you something of a higher grade, or more

You can't even tell him to stop unless you want to crush his proud little smile

Dottore:

For someone who thinks so lowly of gods, he prays to you a suspicious lot

It's not like he has much of a choice though, since he finds his tests turn out more successful when he leaves you a little something every so often

A small price to pay for success, he supposes

Now, since you're so busy with everyone's desire for good fortune, you don't really know Dottore's notoriety

So you're quite curious about the strange fellow who leaves you with strange elixirs you don't dare consume every Monday in exchange for splashes of luck throughout the week

And when he finds that you're curious about his experiments upon meeting you?

Good luck to you

It's like he's talking to an investor, his biggest sponsor, about his work so you'll keep supporting him (in a way, you sort of are)

A part of him wants to hear you praise his genius and insist that he could've done it without your blessing, but at the same time he doesn't want you to think he doesn't need you and have you stop blessing him

So how does he counter that? The same way he got funding from the academia

"Now I can guarantee you, with my genius and just a smidge of your luck, that's all I'm asking for, I could turn these hilichurl corpses into bioweapons. No, I know what you're thinking, that sounds impossible, but not in my lab-"

Smile and nod, your full attention is all it'll take to please him when he gets like this

Pantalone:

He has a very love hate relationship with you because sometimes he forgets to head down to give you an offering before certain business ventures and they're hit by all sorts of misfortune

Now he acknowledges that you aren't obligated to give him luck when he hasn't "paid" for it, but he really finds it inconvenient

So when he meets you he's going to convince you to start a tab for him

Just constantly bless his work so he strikes gold every time, and he'll pay you your offerings + interest at the standard rate they've got going

You can try to explain to him that's not how it works, but he's pretty dead set on convincing you

"This might sound unconventional, I know, or maybe the interest rate among mortals is insufficient to you? I understand the fortune you bestow upon your worshippers can't be bought with gold, but perhaps you could suggest a rate that might tempt you to make an exception for me?"

He is not above trying to seduce a god if it means he'll get a massive profit from it

Not so subtly slips his jacket off his shoulders, leaning his elbow on a table as he props his head up in one hands, eyeing you with that purposeful, scheming look

It's up to you whether you'll entertain his little business proposal

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builtbykittie · 9 months

Text

Gratitude

D.R.W x f!reader

Summary: while at a bar, two questionable men approach you and won't leave you alone, that is until someone saves you

Warnings: 18+ minors cover your eyes, sorta enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, harassment(?), SMUT, oral (m & f), thigh riding, unprotected sex, anything else I forgot

Words: roughly 4.4k

A/N: This is something that's been sitting in my drafts since April but I do have some fics I'm really excited about! (& yes I changed one word in my name but I'm still the same person I swear)

You stare at the curly-haired man, your eyes sharp like daggers and your hot gaze burning on his shoulders. "I don't see why you can't just sit down with him, try to talk it out," Sam takes a swig off the bottle of beer in his hand and rolls his eyes.

"That is the dumbest thing I think I have ever heard you say. Do you seriously think I haven't tried, Sam?" You slam your glass down on the bar harder than intended "It just won't work out. It always ends in another argument."

Danny's kindness seemed to piss you off, of course being nice was a good thing, but that's not how he truly is. He carries himself to be sweet but in reality, he's nothing but a cocky asshole. That's not the only reason you don't like him though, the two of you were best friends for years until an argument that was never quite settled.

It was a stupid thing to end such a close-knit friendship over an argument, but you're stubborn and could never seem to get past it. People always tend to see Danny as a cutie but they don't know him in the same way you do, and that's about the only thing that pissed you off more than the man himself.

When Daniel's upset, he's bitter. However, Danny didn't tend to hold grudges, you being an exception, of course. What exactly started the argument is still a mystery, it was a mixture of everything piled up after a long day and added stress of their show going wrong.

You plant your face in your hand with a sigh, averting your gaze from Daniel talking with an unknown woman to your drink. "Y/N... You can't seriously hate him," Jake taps your knee, and your cheeks start to burn up.

As much as you'd like to say you felt nothing other than mere hatred and disdain for Danny, it would never be true. You could not help the despair you felt for the man who was once your best friend "You can't tell me what my feelings are, Jake."

"Oh come on, loosen up would ya?" Josh barges into the conversation, trying to lighten up the mood however he can. "Josh it's getting late," Jake adds, gesturing toward the door of the bar, surprisingly. He's 'mysterious' and without a doubt the shyest, but never the type to leave the bar because of time.

The brothers exchange looks and whispers before throwing back their drinks and standing up. "Hey, where are you going?" You sit up, looking around and locking eyes with Danny before whipping your head back around to the boys. "We're gonna go to my place," Josh wraps his arm around Jake "You're welcome to come if you'd like."

"Maybe I'll stop by later," you sigh, giving them just what they wanted. "Suit yourself, mama. See you later," Josh pats your head with a smile before beginning to walk through the building to the exit. By the time you realized they'd 'forgotten' Danny, it was too late, the door behind them shuts and they show no sign of remorse.

"Shit," you curse under your breath as you realize you knocked over your drink watching the boys leave, snatching napkins out of the holder that was conveniently placed right next to you. The alcoholic drink trickles down the bar and onto your silk blouse and skirt, ultimately ruining them.

Just to make matters worse, two men that you wouldn't particularly call charming approach you. "You okay?" one of the men speaks. You could usually tell someone's intention by looking at them, and this guy was clearly faking concern to get in your pants... or skirt.

"I'm fine," you mumble, not paying any care to them in hopes they will lose interest and walk away, but they don't. "Here, let me help you," the other guy leans forward, pulling on your shirt.

You start to panic, you've never been good with people, let alone drunk ones. "No really, it's okay," your voice grows shaky as you try to swat away his hands while also maintaining your clothes.

"Hey, baby, we're just trying to take care of ya," the one on your right leans closer to you "Why are you here alone, anyways?"

"My friends just left," you stutter, turning your head to look at Danny who is still having a conversation with the unknown woman. You start to hesitate, unsure if you should say what you're thinking "And I have another friend in here." You gesture to Danny with the smallest wave of your arm to make sure they're the only ones that saw.

Maybe if they think you know people here, they'll leave you alone. "Then how come he's not with you babe?" One of them speaks to you, his gross, warm breath hitting your hands.

"Don't call me that," you wouldn't dare to look up at the men, hands trembling as you continue trying to dry off your clothes.

You flinch back a few inches, tears forming in your eyes as one of them claps his hands together just centimeters away from your face. "Don't be a bitch," the man says just below a shout, his eyes yellow and narrow.

Just as the man goes to open his mouth once more, you feel another presence approach. Soon enough, the men are being viciously pulled by their shoulders and away from you one by one. "Leave her the fuck alone, will you?" It's Daniel.

You cowardly turn your head, watching as he pushes them away while they both shout curses at him. Danny makes sure they get as far away as possible before he can turn back to you.

You finally let the tears that have been puddling at your waterline fall, rolling down your bright red cheeks. "Hey, are you okay?" Danny's tone is drastically different from the last time you talked to him, possibly months ago.

"I'm okay," you stutter "They just- they came up to me and kept trying to talk to me and help me and-"

"Hey hey hey," you're cut off by the voice of your 'enemy' that comforts you much more than you'd like to admit. "I can drive you home if you'd like," Danny brings his hand up and rubs your arm, calming you down and helping you stand up.

You're being held by the man you swore hated your guts just 10 minutes ago, the same man who you couldn't talk to without getting angry and storming out of the room.

"Give me your keys," he puts his arm around you, holding his other hand out in front of you. "Daniel, for fucks sake, I can drive," you avoid eye contact with him as best as you can, stumbling with every other step.

"I know," he brings his index finger to your chin, lifting your face to look at him "Just let me do this for you." All you can do is roll your eyes and gently nod, digging through your bag and fishing out your keys.

You're lucky you parked close, it started raining not long ago and the temperature had plunged, not to mention the alcohol soaking into your clothes. You hear the door unlock and you slowly climb in the passenger side, impatient to get out of the rain covering your bare legs

The drive is quiet, your leg bouncing uncontrollably as you sit uncomfortably in wet clothing. "What made that guy do that?" Danny glances at you for a fleeting moment before looking back to the road.

"They kept trying to call me 'baby' so I just told him to stop and then he just-" You cut yourself off as you realize Danny had pulled into the parking lot "He clapped at me and told me not to be a bitch."

"What a prick," he murmurs, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door. "How're you gonna get home?" you unbuckle as he opens your door, concerned at how well you are getting along with him. "I'll call an Uber," he responds flatly, returning to his typical behavior.

You sigh at the thought of having to be alone in your apartment with the man you've 'hated' for almost three years, but can't stand leaving him in the rain after he'd saved you and even driven you home. You cross your arms, taking your keys from his hand and rolling your eyes "Come inside, please." Danny nods, following you up the steps and into the building.

"Do you want something to drink?" You offer, not looking back at him as you unlock your door. "I'm okay," he responds, looking around your dimly lit apartment as you kick off your heels.

You hadn't changed it around much after your falling out with Danny, and he certainly noticed that.

"Why did you do that?" You cower, your head hung low as you pick at the skin around your nail. "Why did you help me?"

"Well, I wasn't gonna sit around and let those guys harass you like that," he leans against the counter.

"Thank you," you avoid his face, turning around and grabbing a glass from the cabinet before filling it with water. "But I mean I am a total bitch to you," you finally get enough courage to look at his face "I didn't deserve that."

"Those guys were assholes, who knows what they would've done if I didn't step in," he inches closer to you, your entire body becoming flushed once again.

There was no denying you had a little crush on him, even before the fight, but you'd always just pushed your feelings aside.

"I'm gonna change," you say, nearly as a whisper "If you leave I swear to god."

After closing the door, you slide off your stained blouse and wet skirt, letting them fall to the ground. You open your dresser and pull out the first bottoms and a shirt you see, not realizing how skimpy they are until you slide them onto your body. Your ass nearly poked out of the shorts and your boobs filled out the tank top to the point your nipples would've been clearly seen if you hadn't kept your bra on.

"I'm sorry," you walk out of your room, brushing your fingers through your hair. "I'm just such an ass to you all the time and you still did this for me," you watch as Danny's eyes light up and wander down your body then back up to your face.

"I haven't been the best either," he flashes you his crooked smile, god that smile. "Maybe we could make it up to each other sometime," he takes a languid step toward you, pulling his hands from his pockets.

"Daniel," you drop your head to look at your feet, searching every corner of your mind to find the words that would describe your feelings. "I could make it up to you now."

Despite your voice being so quiet you wonder if you even said it aloud, Danny heard you loud and clear. "Yeah?" His voice is flirtatious and soft as he gets closer, just inches away from you. "How're you gonna do that?"

You look dead into his eyes, growing impatient "I think you know what I mean." You feel your body become hot and your breath shaky as the room goes silent. The thick and quiet atmosphere is interrupted by his footsteps, his hands grasp your waist and your arms wrap around his body, making sure he's not going anywhere.

You don't wait for him to do anything, instantly lifting yourself slightly by your toes and smashing your lips against his. You could get used to the way his lips mold so beautifully with yours.

It doesn't take long for the kiss to become intense and hasty. You pull him as close to you as possible, your breasts pressed so hard against his chest that it starts to hurt.

Danny pushes you back until you're pressed against the counter with force. His hands are as if they have a mind of their own, wandering all over your body that he's touched before, but never in this context.

"Fuck," you whisper into his mouth as you grind against his leg for any friction, impatiently pushing him back to unbutton his shirt. "How long have you waited to do this, baby?" His thumb sneaks up the hem of your shorts.

"You don't even know," you speak through heavy breaths, quickly shedding the shirt off his shoulders and continuing your attack on his lips. You feel a smile pull at his lips as he begins to lift the hem of your top, tapping your elbow for you to raise your arms.

You silently thank yourself for not caring to put on a new pair of panties, nothing to stop him after he's taken off your shorts. He tugs the fabric off your body and unclasps your bra so effortlessly, letting the clothes fall to the ground and be forgotten until later.

"Y'know, I've always hated it when you went around flaunting these tits," Danny whispers, one of his hands pressing your hips against his bulge as he involuntarily bucks into you, the other grasping onto your breast for dear life.

"Yeah? Why is that Daniel?" you reach down, frantically searching for the button of his pants. When you finally find what you're looking for, you fumble it a few times, causing a giggle to escape his lips. Another smile grows on his lips, and he juts his hips forward "I hate that you're showing off what's supposed to be mine."

You squeeze your thighs together in reaction to his sentence, desperately trying to stop the wetness threatening to seep into your shorts. His pants drop to reveal a very obvious tent in his boxers that makes your mouth water. He's big, you could tell just by the way he's straining against his underwear.

"May I?" You smirk, cupping his bulge and slowly sinking to your knees. He nods with that hypnotizing smile and pets your hair, you waste no time pulling down his boxers and watching as his cock is set free.

You swallow thickly, your eyes opening wide as you stare at him in awe. After enough time goes by and you hear a tiny giggle from Danny's mouth, you snap back into reality and wrap your hand around him. "Fuck you're gorgeous, y'know that?" He bucks into your hand as you spit on his length, swirling and moving your arm faster.

"I am?" You almost moan before kitten licking the tip of his cock which is just enough to elicit soft rumbling groans from within his chest. "Shit," he breathes, his hand flying to the back of your head "You gonna open up for me, princess?"

"Mm, maybe," you smile, significantly speeding up your pace. Danny impatiently grabs your jaw, tugging on your bottom lip with his thumb but before he can say a word you're taking him fully in your mouth.

A loud curse falls from Danny's lips, tangling his fingers through the tresses of your hair. You begin to bob your head relatively quickly, contrasting with the slow pace you've started with your hand. The throb you felt in your core was almost unbearable, and you knew you couldn't continue this for much longer. But you'd feel bad if you left him unfinished, especially since you were supposed to be 'making it up to him'.

When you detach your lips from his length and slow your movements to a stop, he bunches your hair in his hand and pulls so that you're looking up at him. You go to open your mouth but the smile playing on his lips tells you that he already knows. "Daniel, I can-" you try to explain, but you're silenced before you can finish your sentence.

"It's okay," he pets your hair "Go ahead and touch yourself for me." You look up at him through your lashes and nod "Thank you." You begin to impatiently slide your shorts off your body, shifting your weight to your knees, you bring a hand down and drag your fingers through your unbelievably wet folds. "Shit," Danny groans as you begin to slowly pump up and down his length with the other hand, brushing your thumb along his slit with every stroke.

At the same time, you draw tight circles over your clit. "Come on baby, let me feel that pretty mouth," he grabs your hair once again and pushes your face into his throbbing erection. "Yes, sir," you moan, slipping two fingers inside your entrance and attaching your mouth back onto his cock.

You start to grind against the heel of your hand, the sight of you fucking your fingers mixed with your choice of words drives Danny mad. You moan around him as he fucks into your mouth, thrusts becoming rougher and rougher with every one of your noises. "Fuck, fuck fuck fuck," Danny lets out a visceral groan "fuck baby you're doing so good."

Tears form in your eyes as you gag on him, your fingers significantly picking up pace. "You're so filthy," Daniel growls, his breath hitching in his throat as you let out a long, drawled-out moan against his cock. All of the muscles in your stomach tighten as you feel your orgasm approach, and your legs begin to involuntarily shake.

Deep groans tumble from Danny's chest and his thrusts falter, he's right there with you. You clamp your eyes shut, letting hot tears drip down your face as he continues to fuck your mouth, and moaning against him as you relentlessly curl your fingers up into yourself. "Fuck, oh god, keep making those noises," Danny moans, his jaw slack and his head thrown back.

One more thrust and one more curl of your fingers are all it took for the both of you to come undone. You fall back on your heels as hot pleasure takes over, and you feel warm strings of cum shoot into the back of your throat. You pull away from Danny, drawing in deep breaths as soon as you get the chance.

After you've fully rode out your orgasm, you pull your fingers from yourself and grasp onto Daniel's hot body to stand. Once you're up, Danny grasps your wrist, bringing your fingers to his mouth to taste you. The throb already returns as he hums in approval around your fingers, you need him badly.

"Fuck me," you breathe, looking dead into his eyes "I need to feel you, Danny. Fuck me." A sick laugh falls from Daniel's red lips and all of a sudden you're being thrown over his shoulder and moved into the living room. He throws you down on your couch, your back hitting the arm of it and your legs sprawling out.

His eyes darken at the sight, staring intently at your heat glistening in your arousal and you catch his cock bob up & down out of the corner of your eye. He steps forward and crawls in front of you on your couch, and you find yourself holding your breath as his face gets closer to your core.

You don't know why, but you're fully expecting him to get to the point. You're hoping for him to give you what you so desperately need, but he doesn't. Instead, he hovers over you, drawing a line of kisses between your breasts down to your navel, then up to your jawline. "Daniel," what you tried to make sound as stern as possible ends up sounding like a pathetic whimper as the ache in you're core grows.

"What is it baby," he smiles against your skin as he peppers kisses to your lower belly and slides his hands up and down your thighs. You hate when you have to beg, but you seriously consider it as you don't know how much longer you can go without his touch.

"Danny, please," you moan out, bucking your hips up when his fingers ghost over your heat. You hear a faint snicker, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine "Please what? Use your words pretty."

You let out a huff and roll your eyes "Daniel I'm not going to beg fo." You gasp and cut yourself off as he attaches his lips to your clit without warning, sucking the swollen bud into his mouth. "Oh my god," you stutter, your hands flying to tangle themselves in his hair.

Danny slips a finger inside you, but it's just enough to make you squirm. "Is this what you wanted? Y'know, you shouldn't mouth off," he rasps just before continuing his attack on your clit, slipping in another finger and viciously curling them inside you. "Yeah, but it- fuck. It got me somewhere d- didn't it?"

It doesn't take long until you're sent hurdling over the edge. Strings of obscenities leave your mouth as you grind against Danny's face, a wave of electricity shooting through your entire body. Before you can even fully come down from your second orgasm, Danny grabs you by the waist, throwing you into his lap and sitting up so that you're left straddling him.

Once you're able to fully see again, you throw yourself forward and shower his neck in kisses. Danny lays a slap against your ass, eliciting a yelp from your mouth "mm, you wanna be a good girl and ride me?"

You simply just hum against his neck, sucking a dark red mark behind his ear. Now you have the reigns, and you might as well have fun with it.

You move so that you're straddling just one thigh, wrapping one arm around the back of his neck as you begin to grind against his thigh. "What the fuck," Danny mumbles, a bead of arousal dripping out the tip of his angry cock as he feels your folds drag across his thigh.

Rolling your hips, you collapse into Daniel's chest, burying your head into the crook of his neck. The hand not wrapped around his broad shoulders flying to his cock. He gets over his confusion fast, instantly grasping your hips and guiding you along his thigh while you stroke him.

You can't help but laugh, your chest bouncing as your face is tucked away in Danny's hair. "Y/N?" He loosens his grip on your hips, but they continue to roll against him. The noise that escapes from your mouth makes it apparent that you're not crying, but doing the opposite.

"What's so funny? Look at me," Danny commands, grabbing your face so that your lips pucker when you look at him. "Nothing," you giggle, but it quickly turns into loud moans as the friction gets to be all too much for you.

To your surprise, Daniel wraps both arms around your body, forcing you to stop your movements. "What the hell?" You cry, mourning the orgasm that just got ripped out of your grasp. He violently pulls you into him, your forehead hitting the top of your couch and his nose brushing against the shell of your ear "Don't think you can act like a brat and then get what you want."

"I'm sorry," you whine, positioning yourself to be straddling him once again, looking at him through your lashes and acting as innocent as possible. You take his cock in your hand, which is unbelievably hard and dripping with precum.

"Let me show you how good I can be," you sit up, dragging his tip through your unbelievably wet pussy. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you line him up with your entrance, sinking in just the tip.

Your eyes instinctively fall shut, unholy noises tumbling from both of your mouths as you take him all the way in, slowly stretching out around him. You sit there for a moment, basking in the feeling of him filling you completely up.

After a few seconds pass, you lift your hips and drop them back down, feeling every inch of him. Your jaw falls open as your hips begin to move on their own, hands wandering over every inch of each other's bodies. "Oh fuck," you suck in a breath, rolling your hips and clenching around him.

"Oh don't do that," Danny growls, hands flying to your hips. Just as you go to bring your hips back down, he thrusts up into you. "Oh my god!" You wail, skin clashing together so rough you're sure you'll wake up with large bruises in the morning.

Your walls clench down even harder around him, if that was even possible. Animalistic groans bubble up from Danny's chest, his thrusts getting rougher by the second. "Fuck! Holy shit, Danny!" hot tears swell up at your waterline, the stinging of your skin crashing into each other's mixed with the feeling of his cock hitting all your sweet spots overwhelms you in the best way possible.

"I'm so," you're cut off by a moan ripping through your chest, your hips rolling on their own accord and tears falling down your cheeks. "I know baby, I know," Danny whimpers, delivering a sharp thrust into you that sends a jolt of electricity throughout your entire body.

Strings of curses and moans flow out of your mouth as fiery white pleasure takes over every one of your senses, your thighs shaking uncontrollably. "I just fuck, need you to go a little longer," Danny's hips falter as he fails to send another thrust. Despite the consequences of your orgasm still in full effect, your mind is set on making Danny cum.

Your jaw clenches and your face contorts as you squeeze around his cock. "That's it, baby, fuck me," he grabs your hips, pulling you against himself right before you feel his warm release spurt inside you.

Trying to ignore the involuntary shaking of your legs and the intense feeling of overstimulation, you continue to slowly fuck him until he comes down from his orgasm.

You slow your movements to a stop and collapse onto his chest, silently sobbing into the crook of his neck. "You okay?" He rubs your back, peppering kisses to your shoulder. "Yeah," you breathe, sitting up and wiping away tears, a smile tugging on your lips as you lean in to kiss him.

Sucking in a hiss, you slowly rise from his lap. "What happened to the girl that hates my guts?" Danny snickers, brushing hair away from your eyes. "She's probably still here somewhere," you smirk, cuddling next to him.

"Then we might just have to keep fucking until she's gone."

"Is that a challenge, Daniel?"

"Maybe."

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet imagine #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #gvf smut #danny wagner #daniel wagner #danny wagner smut #danny wagner fanfiction

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mondaymelon · 1 year

Text

never again. (yandere!childe x gn!reader)

warnings! this series will contain yandere implications, mentions of murder, kidnapping, stalking, and blackmail usage.

(a/n) this post contains triggering topics and generally dark themes. please read at your own risk. ^^ requests are open! 2/4✩

˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

He had let you go once. It had been a foolish mistake. And since then he vowed to never do so again.

To you, he had always been Tartaglia, your always joking around higher-up. The two of you were close, both of you having been from Shneznaya and training in the same working regimen for a little over three years now. Tartaglia had grown to be powerful enough for the position of Harbinger, but you on the other hand maintained as a Fatui general, which was just fine by you. Leading people in battle and going over war tactics was certainly a much easier job than having to give a pep talk to new recruits.

Just the thought of having to be all cheery and go-happy made you shudder. Tartaglia had despised the idea too, but had eventually gotten used to it over the months.

Still, he always tried to make time for you despite his hectic schedule. It was sweet, to say the least. He even invited you to a tavern once and had you try alcohol for the first time. The vodka had been bitter but slightly sweet, and you found yourself to enjoy it in the presence of the familiar man.

However, after he was sent to settle things in Liyue, and you in Inazuma, the two of you had no choice but to part ways. He had cried then, after he had heard the news. The moment he had saw you, his face broke into a teary expression and he had ran over to give you a tight hug.

"I'm going to miss you so much…!" He had mumbled into your ear, still holding onto you with his strong grip. "…I can't even begin to understand what it's going to be like without you."

"You're going to be okay, Taglia. I just know it." You patted the males back, slightly puzzled on what to do next. As he released his grasp on you, he only stared at you with his shimmering azul eyes.

"But I won't even be able to talk to you anymore." The male pouted. "And who'll take your place as my drinking buddy?"

"Oh- I'm sure you'll find someone." You waved your hand nonchalantly, grinning sheepishly at the boy in the hopes of giving him some comfort. "Besides, we'll still be able to exchange letters."

"But no one can replace you!"

"Tsarista's orders are Tsarista's orders, Taglia. We have to leave, but it's not the end."

"Then why does it feel like it is?"

You blinked at the male, startled. He never usually acted like this, so full of emotion or having such a large willpower or opinion on something. It made you… confused, to say the least. "I think what you need is some rest. We depart tomorrow morning, right? Let's say our goodbyes then and not dwell on such sad things now."

"…"

"Okay?"

"Alright."

"Good." Reaching up at the taller male and standing on your tippie-toes, you managed to give him a couple reassuring headpats. "Now then, let's go eat dinner, okay?"

"Okay."

⁺˖ ⁺˖ ⁺˖ ⁺ 🕤 ⁺˖ ⁺˖ ⁺˖ ⁺

"You'll watch over them, right?" Tartaglia scanned his blank eyes across the row of kneeling soldiers in front of him, searching for any signs of weakness. If they were to be the people tasked with guarding his favorite person in the whole of Teyvat, he had to make sure they were more than competent.

"Yes, sir." They all responded in unison.

"And you'll make sure they don't get hurt?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hmmm… then…" The harbinger whipped out his bow in a single fluid moment, easily creating a pair of blades that swirled with elemental energy. "Come on then, it's time to test your strength. Let's spar."

"S-Sorry?"

"Did you not hear me the first time? Get up, soldiers, and ready your weapons, for here I come!" With that, the male leaped into a battle stance, eyes glimmering with excitement. A hesitant Electrohammer Vangaurder stepped up the challenge, steadying his grip on his weapon as he stared down the ginger with glowing violet eyes. Letting out a mighty yell, he brought down the load, crackling with electro energy, and split the floor just as the harbinger leapt into safety.

"Too slow. Are all of you this pathetically weak?"

A particularly swift pyro agent speeded through the ranks, disappearing into the scenery as he used his invisibility techniques. Shooting a hand out into the seemingly empty air, Tartaglia caught the man by the throat and lifted him up into the air with a manic smile spreading across his face.

"Weak."

He repeated the word as he brought a swarm of pyroslinger bracers to their knees, clutching their bloody sides.

And yet again as he drove and weaved his blades about the whole of cryo and hydro gunners, the fatui legionares pointing their guns only at empty air before realizing that the harbinger was behind them and already knocking them out with the brunt of his blade.

And he said it one last time as the last cicin mage was rendered unconscious, collapsing to the ground, lamp flickering weakly.

"How will you ever protect my darling when all you can do is be weak? This won't do. This won't do at all." Staring at the carnage that he had made, still figures and splatters of blood covering the floor, he only let out a little laugh.

"That's right. It should be me. I was a fool to trust them. It should be me by your side, protecting you from every danger. I am the only one who can do it. It should be me. Me." He didn't seem to care if anyone was listening, after all, who could stop him? He had seen them, all of them, all of their pathetic little bodies crumpling onto the ground like the fleas they were.

"Don't worry, darling. I'll make sure to get through to you somehow and take care of all the... annoyances in your path. All you need to do is trust me." With that, the bloodied harbinger stumbled away, grabbing his coat off of its rack and readying a steed. "I'm leaving now. Don't send anyone after me." He imparted a few quick words to the guard at the watch tower, deciding to ignore the flitting look of horror on his face.

"We'll meet again soon. I'll make sure of it."

-- end of part 1.

(part 2 coming out 3/7/2023)

masterlist. next.

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literaryavenger · 3 months

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Captain America: Civil War - 2

Summary: After Peggy's funeral, Steve, Sam and you go to Bucharest to track down Bucky before the FBI kills him, or at least tries to.

Pairing: Avengers x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of violence. Language. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: Here's part two of Civil War and the first look into a Bucky x Reader relationship! That's my goal, anyway. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

It’s been a sad few days for Steve, he’s been crying a lot after the news that Peggy died.

You and Sam offered to go with him to the funeral so now you’re both sitting in the first row as Steve and five other guys carry the coffin.

“And now, I would like to invite Sharon Carter to come up and say a few words.” the priest says and Steve’s old neighbor Agent 13, steps up to the podium.

Your eyes widen a little in shock and elbow Sam while looking at her, then Sam nudges Steve and nods to her.

“Margaret Carter was known to most as a founder of SHIELD… but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy.” Sharon starts the eulogy and you look at Steve who's just as surprised to see her. “She had a photograph in her office. Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But it was a lot to live up to. Which is why I never told anyone we were related.”

She looks directly at Steve before continuing. “I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage in a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either. And she said, compromise where you can. But where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move… it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye and say ‘No. You move.’.”

Her words hit you deep, and you’re sure they hit Steve deep, too.

Peggy was clearly a very smart woman, and the fact that she helped found SHIELD and was such a badass made her your inspiration when you were a trainee and ever since you became an agent. Sharon’s words just made you more and more sure that not signing the Accords is the right thing to do.

After the funeral Steve asks you and Sam for a moment alone, so you hug him before letting him have some peace, making your way to the hotel you’re all staying at with Sam.

You’re in the hotel bar when the news comes on with the bombing in Vienna. You and Sam exchange a worried glance and set out to find Steve right away.

You find him near the elevators with Sharon just as the elevator arrives.

“Thanks for walking me back.” Sharon says and as Steve answers “Sure” you get close to them.

“Steve.” you grab his attention.

“There’s something you gotta see.” Sam finishes.

We all go up to Sharon’s hotel room to turn on the news that’s all about the UN bombing in Vienna and how the culprit is believed to be James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier HYDRA asset and formerly known as Sergeant Barnes, Steve’s best friend.

They talk about the death of King T’Chaka and you look at Steve who seems as concerned as you are as you quietly say. “That’s not good.” And he agrees with a nod.

“I have to go to work.” Sharon says and you all know what has to be done.

Sam, Steve and you flew to Vienna with Sharon and now you and Sam are in a coffee shop waiting for Steve while he talks to Natasha.

“How can you eat at a time like this?!” you whisper shout to Sam, annoyed.

“What am I supposed to do, starve?” He answers and you roll your eyes but before you can say anything back, Steve steps next to him.

“She tell you to stay out of it?” you ask him, knowing Natasha pretty well.

“Might have a point.” Sam comments casually.

“He'd do it for me.” Steve says back.

“1945, maybe.” Sam says and you roll your eyes and try to be a little more sensitive than Sam.

“I just want to make sure we consider all our options.” you gently say, but Sam cuts in.

“Yeah, the people that shoot at you usually wind up shooting at us.” He says and can’t really fight him on that, he’s not wrong.

Sharon appears next to Steve and starts talking quietly without looking at any of us.

“Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter soldier goes to their gym. Most of it is noise. Except for this.” She slides Steve a file. “My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that's all the head start you're gonna get.”

“Thank you.” Steve says as he takes the file.

“And you're gonna have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight.” she says and leaves as the three of you exchange a worried glance. Without wasting any time, you make your way out of the coffee shop and to the airport, destination: Bucharest.

You get to the right address and go separate ways. Sam gets to the roof of the building that Steve enters to look for Barnes and you go to the roof of the other building, where you have an eye on both Sam and, thanks to the scope on your rifle, you can see Steve even through the covered windows.

You see Steve enter the small apartment and look around, then he goes to the kitchen and picks up what looks like a notebook and opens it. Then you hear Sam’s voice through the comms.

“Heads up, Cap. German Special Forces approaching from the south.” You notice movement behind Steve as Sam talks.

“Understood.” Steve says as you see Barnes has entered the apartment.

“Steve, turn around.” You tell him through the comms and he slowly does.

“Do you know me?” You can hear Steve ask, but can’t hear Bucky’s response because he's talking too quietly.

“They've set the perimeter.” Sam says, but you’re still focused on Bucky inside the building.

“I know you're nervous. And you have plenty of reason to be.” You hear Steve say, “But you're lying.” You can see Bucky’s lips moving, but at this angle you can’t really read his lips.

“They're entering the building.” Sam says and you finally take your attention away from the apartment and look around the building as you hear Steve talk.

“Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive.”

“Sam, they’re on the roof.” You say through the comms.

“She’s right, I'm compromised.” He says.

“This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck.” Steve says.

“5 seconds.” Sam says in your ear.

“You pulled me from the river. Why?” Steve keeps trying to get through to Bucky.

“3 seconds!” You say as you see them about to breach the apartment.

“Yes, you do!” Steve almost yells before you hear Sam yelling in your ear.

“Breach! Breach! Breach!” you see a grenade crash through the window. Bucky kicks it to Steve, and he smothers it with his shield.

You see Bucky shielding himself with the mattress against an attack from the window, then he blocks the door with a table as cops swing in on cables. Steve pulls the rug from under a policeman, sending him flying. Bucky slams another policeman into the wall.

“Buck, stop! You're gonna kill someone.” you hear Steve say before Bucky slams him down and punches a hole in the floor right next to his face.

You faintly hear him say, “I'm not gonna kill anyone.” Before he pulls something out the floor, throws it out the building and it lands near you.

You’re about to go see what’s in it but are distracted by Bucky and Steve hiding behind the shield together before Bucky shoves Steve into a cop and you have to stop yourself from laughing.

Bucky holds up his metal hand and repels bullets, then slams a cop into some shelves. He picks up a large cement brick and slams it into a cop and you can see Steve fighting another cop on the balcony.

You see Bucky punch through the wall beside the door. He steps into the hallway and you lose sight of him, a second later Steve steps into the hallway and you lose him too.

“You have a visual, Sam?” You ask through the comms and he answers with a simple ‘No’.

You hear Steve say “Come on, man.” and hear his grunting as he fights.

After a minute you hear Steve say “Y/N, he’s coming your way.” and you frown.

“What do you mean he’s-” Before you can answer you can see Bucky jumping out a balcony and you let out a quiet “Holy shit.” that makes Steve groan and Sam snicker.

Bucky lands not too far away from you and, before he can get to his backpack, you put yourself in front of him so he can’t get to it.

“Hello, soldier.” you say in a teasing and vaguely flirting tone, but he simply looks at you for half a second before throwing a punch that you avoid and quickly say “Not a talker. Got it.” Before throwing a punch of your own that he easily stops, holding your arm as he sweeps your legs and in a second you’re on the ground.

Bucky picks up his backpack and runs, but a big man all dressed in black, a full face mask with pointed ears, slams into him and knocks him down. He extends his fingers and sharp claws pop out and he attacks Bucky with sweeping kicks and slashes.

Bucky fights back but is kicked into a wall, the figure swipes his claws and spins gracefully. Bucky narrowly avoids being slashed, holding up a metal bar to protect himself.

You get up and get closer to them to try and help Bucky. You kick the man off of him and protect Bucky by standing in front of him in a fighting stance.

“Bad kitty.” you tell him and can hear Steve and Sam simultaneously say “Seriously, Y/N?”

“Sam, southwest rooftop.” you hear Steve say as the cat man lunges at you.

“Who the hell's the other guy?” Sam asks.

“About to find out.” Steve answers while you try your best to not get killed by the overgrown cat you’re fighting at the moment. The man manages to slam you into a wall and lunges at Bucky with his claws, but Bucky grabs his wrists.

You’re about to help but a soldier fires a machine gun from a chopper, the ammo bounces off the man’s armored suit who’s now on top of Bucky, but you’re forced to hide to avoid the bullets.

You hear Steve call for Sam’s help and Sam answers with a “Got him.” before he flies down and shoves the chopper off course, then swoops towards street level.

Bucky breaks free from his attacker, slings his bag on his back, runs and jumps down a level, and the other man slides down the wall using his claws for traction. Bucky lands at street level and the chase continues. Steve follows and lands rolling along the ground.

You watch them from the edge of the roof and sigh. “Okay, I can’t do that.” You look up in search of Sam. “Sam, I need a ride.”

“I got you.” He says as he swoops down and picks you up, taking flight again to follow the others while you hang on to him for dear life.

Gunfire from the chopper tears up the sidewalk, Bucky jumps down through an opening, lands in an underpass and he runs through the traffic. Cat Suit and Steve drop down and chase after Bucky as a Special Forces Vehicle pursues all of them.

You see Steve leap onto the vehicle and splinter the windshield and, when the driver stops, Steve yanks him from the vehicle and kicks the windshield out, then drives off.

Bucky runs over the top of a speeding car, outpacing it and Cat Suit is a few cars behind, keeping pace with him. Then he leaps on the back of the 4x4 that Steve's driving and Steve swerves from side to side, trying to throw him off.

“Sam, I can't shake this guy.” He says into the comms.

“We’re right behind you.” Sam says as you fly behind him.

Several police cars join the chase and you see Steve side-swipe another car and drive on.

Bucky leaps over a barrier and Steve drives through it, then you can see Bucky grab the handlebar of an incoming motorcycle and spin the bike around in mid air, throwing the rider off as he gets on the bike himself, riding away and sending cars careering out of the way.

Steve keeps on Bucky's tail with Cat Suit holding onto the back of his car. They all rocket through another underpass and Sam flies into the underpass.

Cat Suit leaps off the front of Steve’s car onto Bucky's motorbike and Bucky flings him over his head and the bike leans down on its side. Bucky kicks his assailant away, straightens up and rides on.

Cat Suit catches a ride on one of Sam’s legs and Sam tries to kick him away. Bucky throws a sticky bomb and blows up the roof at the end of the underpass, bringing down tons of rubble.

Sam tells you to hang on and you can feel his grip tighten on you as he stops and throws the Cat Suit man into the rubble. He throws Bucky off the motorcycle as Steve swerves the car through the rubble and leaps out, running as Bucky and the Cat roll on the ground.

When they stop the Cat is on Bucky right away but Steve jumps on him and pulls him off Bucky.

Steve stands up, facing the sleek and muscular overgrown black cat as the police arrive and surround you all, guns aimed. War Machine leaps down from above and raises both his suit hands, guns drawn.

“Stand down, now.” Rhodey says, aiming at Bucky and Steve who are standing side by side and at the Cat Suit Guy. Steve puts his shield on his back again as Rhodey continues. “Congratulations, Cap. You're a criminal.”

Police move in and force Bucky to his knees. The Cat raises his hands as a cop moves Steve's arms behind his back and you and Sam are also handcuffed and brought closer to the others by two police men. The cat retracts his claws and pulls off his mask revealing his face and you’re all shocked to see it’s King T'Challa.

“Your highness.” Rhodey says as Bucky's hauled flat on the ground and getting handcuffed.

You all get arrested, forced to change out of our suits and gears and taken to Berlin. Bucky is restrained inside a glass-walled pod surrounded by armed guards.

In an SUV sits T’Challa on front, then you, then Steve and last Sam. You’re quietly going through traffic until Sam very respectfully breaks the silence. “So, you like cats?”

“Sam.” Steve warns him while you snort in amusement, looking out the window to avoid what you’re sure will be a disappointed glare from Steve.

“What?” Sam continues. “Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don't wanna know more?”

“Your suit…” Steve ignores Sam and addresses T’Challa. “Is it Vibranium?”

“The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior.” T’Challa finally speaks up. “And now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king.” Oh, no. “So, I ask you... as both warrior and king... how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?”

The silence that follows is deafening, as none of you know or want to give an answer to that, and you’re sure T’Challa doesn’t expect one.

“Sorry about King T’Chaka…” You say quietly after a moment.

“Don’t worry, miss Y/LN. He will be vindicated.” He answers back without missing a beat.

You look back at Steve and Sam and they both look as worried as you feel.

This is not going to end well, is it?

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham

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baronessblixen · 5 months

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Candlelight Moments With You

Day six: candlelit snack

I'm doing the 24 Days of X-Mas Files Challenge that msrafterdark posted!

Summary: Mulder and Scully have to stop at a motel for the night. They make the best of it. (one room, some fluff, some candy. Yes, real candy. Wc: 1,201

Tagging @today-in-fic

The weather - and he doesn't want to quote the classic Christmas song at all, but it's all too fitting - is dreadful. He doesn't know if their flight was canceled. With the phone lines down, there is no way to call the airline. With the snowstorm raging outside, however, he can't imagine a single plane taking off, no matter where it is going.

This is why they're stuck here. He's not entirely sure where 'here' even is. It had started with soft flurries that neither worried Mulder nor Scully. Then, almost out of nowhere, the snow was coming down heavily, making it impossible to see where they were driving. They were going so slow, they probably could have walked.

After what felt like hours, but was most likely not more than thirty minutes, a snowed-in neon sign came into sight. They exchanged a look and the decision was made. They parked their car in the parking lot and by the time they'd taken out their bags, it was already covered by a soft white blanket. They were lucky, too. The motel had one room left. It's drafty and basic, but better than being out in the storm.

At least it was until a few minutes ago when the power went out. Mulder turned on his flashlight and put it on a table like a candle. But of course, he hasn't changed the batteries in a while, and the light keeps flickering.

"Merry Christmas," Scully mutters, sitting on the bed in her pajamas.

"Technically," Mulder says, "it's not Christmas yet. We'll be back in time."

"You don't know that." She's right, of course. He can't know it. But he's Mulder and he wants to believe. Even if he can't get Scully home for Christmas Eve, he's determined to deliver her to her family on Christmas morning at the latest.

"And we'll soon be without light. It's only a matter of time until it will be freezing in here. We haven't even eaten." Scully's voice carries dejection in it and it hits Mulder straight in his heart. He can't bring the power back, or make the snow stop, but maybe there's something he can do.

"Will you be okay if I take the flashlight and go talk to the receptionist?" He points the light at her and she narrows her eyes.

"Sure," she says, crawling under the blanket, and getting comfortable. He can't tear his eyes away from her until she smiles softly, giving him a spark of hope.

It's a small motel, so there aren't many people here, but some are also seeking out the receptionist. A child is crying and Mulder makes a funny face, distracting it into a hiccupy laugh.

"We know that the power is out and no, we don't know when it will be back," the receptionist says in a monotone voice when it's Mulder's turn.

"I just wanted to ask for a few candles."

"We don't usually allow candles in our rooms."

"My partner and I are Federal Agents," Mulder says, flashing his badge. "We can handle it."

"Fine. But don't let the other guests know." Mulder grabs the two candles he's offered and stuffs them into his pockets.

"Do you sell any food?"

"Does this look like a restaurant, Mister? No, we don't."

"Thanks." Mulder stands in the lobby, his stomach grumbling. It's been hours since they last stopped to eat and he feels it. And he knows how Scully gets on an empty stomach.

"You don't happen to have a vending machine anywhere close, do you?" He returns to the receptionist, who rolls his eyes.

"We used to. But not anymore. You're on your own. Unless..."

"Unless what?" The receptionist's head disappears under the desk. When he comes back up, he's holding a bag of chips and another bag with heart-shaped fruit gum.

"I'm willing to sell you these."

"Sell? How much?" Mulder fishes out his wallet, figuring the guy would want five or maybe ten bucks for the snacks.

"$100." Mulder stares at the young man whose expression is steady.

"You're kidding."

"My mom gave me these. So $100 or no deal." Mulder checks his wallet, grumbling.

"I have $81 and some change."

"I'll take it."

Candles in his pockets, chips and fruit gum in hand, Mulder returns to his and Scully's motel room.

"Mulder?" she asks.

"Were you expecting someone else? Power is gonna be out for a while," he says. "But I have candles." He grins at her, her face unreadable in the shadows. He uses a matchstick to light the candles and the soft flickering plunges them into a soft light.

"Tada," Mulder says. "We have light. And I have food."

"You do?" Scully sits up in bed.

"Willing to share the bed?" he asks her, feeling surprisingly bashful. She scoots over and pats the space next to her.

"What did you bring?"

"Well, it was as expensive as a restaurant visit." Scully throws him a confused look. "But quality is more gas station." He hands the chips to her and she tears open the bag, digging in.

"Wow," he says, forgetting his own hunger. "You really were hungry, huh?" She just nods, taking the other bag out of his hands.

"Are these-"

"Hearts? Yeah."

"And they say romance is dead." He watches her - momentarily speechless - as she opens the bag of fruit gum too and stuffs two little hearts into her mouth.

"What did you mean these were expensive?" she asks as she offers him a heart. Their fingers meet as he takes it from her.

"The little shit demanded $100."

"Please tell me you didn't pay that."

"I paid $81," he admits. "Was all I had. You're worth it, too."

"Mulder, you're crazy," she says, licking her salt-peppered fingers.

"What else is new?" He chuckles. "I didn't want you to go hungry."

"Thank you." She looks at him, her eyes earnest. "I'm sorry for being... I know the snowstorm wasn't your fault. I'm just tired."

"And hungry," he adds, nudging her shoulder with his.

"And hungry," she confirms.

"I promise that I'll take you to breakfast, lunch, and dinner as soon as we can leave again."

"Mulder, are you asking me out on a date?" He stares at the heart-shaped fruit gum in his hand. She's long taken over his heart; it beats to the rhythm of his love for her.

"If you accept me," he says gently, offering him the heart. The one in his palm and the one in his chest.

"Mulder," she mumbles, taking the fruit gum. "You know, this almost is a date right here."

"Hm?"

"Candlelight," she says, "and food. Or something like it."

"I'd like to take you on a real date. One day."

"I'd like that, too. One day." She eats the fruit gum, her eyes remaining on his face. "You look like you're gonna faint. Eat something." She holds a chip up to his mouth and he accepts it, his lips closing over her finger. He can't tell what flavor the chips are, but he knows he wants more.

"More?" he asks in a whisper. She smiles at him and nods. But he doesn't get another chip. Instead, he gets a kiss.

#ficmas2023 #without alarm clock incidents today hopefully #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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luna06newman · 3 months

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Sherlock bbc headcanon

(Set a couple months after The Final Problem)

It was an unspoken agreement between Sherlock and Mycroft, that despite all of their childish feuds, they cared about each other. No one needed to know that, though.

One day, when he was 16, Mycroft brought Sherlock into his room and said they needed one day a year to meet up and exchange information about their lives. Of course, they had the habit to spy on each other, and could deduce almost everything, but this would be a day to be honest and say out loud things they both already secretly knew.

The day would be December 1, which was a strategic date to allow a reasonable wrap up of the year, but not too close to holidays, so in case people found out about it (no one ever did), they wouldn't think it was some sort of brotherly compassion brought up by that the despisable "holiday spirit".

And so, every year, Sherlock and Mycroft met in the agreed place. Even when Sherlock was "dead" in Eastern Europe, they still had their meeting. This year, however, they decided to go for a classic at Mycroft's house. But Sherlock didn't show up.

This couldn't be good. None of them had ever missed it, no matter what.

When two hours had gone by since the agreed time without a sign of Sherlock, Mycroft knew what he had to do. Sherlock wouldn't be at Baker Street, obviously, nor in any of his classic hiding spots, because he knew Mycroft knew all of them, so it would be useless trying to hide from his brother in any of them. He would be in the only place no one knew about. Well, at least that's what he thought.

So when, that night, Mycroft showed up at the short and dark path through the graveyard where his brother had been "buried" so many years ago, where the detective went to think when he couldn't find peace anywhere else, Sherlock was absolutely furious.

Mycroft slowly approached the path surrounded by trees. For a moment, he simply observed Sherlock from afar. In his usual clothes, the younger brother paced the ground, hands behind his back, speaking to himself. That was certainly odd. If Sherlock was there, it could only mean he had something rather important to think about, so why wasn't he doing it in his mind palace? This could only mean there was something blocking his thoughts, some thing he couldn't get out of the way. That theory certainly matched his annoyed body language.

But Sherlock carried on walking round and round like a broken CD, repeating the same thing over and over, until Mycroft had had enough. He silently left his spot behind a tree and walked into Sherlock's visual field. "Good evening, brother, mine."

Sherlock froze, stopped staring at the floor to face the red haired man, and his face immediately contorted into a half annoyed half mortified expression. "Fuck you, Mycroft" he blurted out.

The older brother chuckled and rested his weight on his ever present black umbrella. "What is it that annoys your mind so clearly much?" A theory had started to grow and his mind. "Would you be so kind to tell me or am I to be forced to deduce it?"

Sherlock hadn't stopped walking round; the only difference was the cigarette he now flipped between his fingers after picking it from his coat's pocket - apparently the first one to be considered, since there was no sign of used ones or ashes around. Still, Mycroft hoped his brother wouldn't actually smoke it.

"Are you here for your annual meeting? I didn't go to your house, I obviously don't wanna have this conversation. How the hell did you even know I was here?"

"I am smarter than you, Sherlock, remember that. Now, answer my question."

"Fuck off." He made a dismissive gesture.

"We have an agreement, you know." Mycroft stepped closer, slightly irritated but trying to stay calm. "One you are not to break. Besides, this is not only a day for honesty, but for kindness as well, so, although I could rudely deduce whatever it is that bothers you, I won't. And I also won't take your offenses personally."

Mycroft breathed deeply, and Sherlock had finally stopped walking and was now staring at his brother. There was no anger in his look now, like a minute before: it was only confusion and... even fear? All the possible irritation in Mycroft's mind melted down at the sight of the pain in his brother's eyes. As much as any of them tried to keep the enemy-brothers facade (which didn't really work anymore - everyone close to them knew the truth already, but they still bothered to do it), they couldn't bear see each other suffer.

"Come here, William." Mycroft said, surprisingly, gently, and Sherlock, reluctant only on the outside, approached him for a hug.

And just like that, Mycroft-the-British-government-Holmes and the famous consultant detective Sherlock Holmes disappeared. For a moment, they were simply Myc and William, so many years before.

Still on the embrace, Mycroft gently took the cigarette from Sherlock's fingers and threw it far away. "This does not agree with you anymore."

Sherlock didn't protest. He only sighed, tired, and vulnerable.

"Affair of the heart, then?" The older man, patted Sherlock's back. Without an answer, Mycroft continued "Dr. Watson?"

Sherlock shook his head and chuckled, but not like it was funny: like he felt confused and lost. He pulled back from the hug and walked half a dozen paces away from Mycroft before squatting down and staying there. His head hanging low, he angrily ruffled his hair and yawped as loudly as he could.

"I'm a fucking ridiculous man!" he screamed, without moving. "I can't get John out of my head, and the worst part is, I don't even want to!" he got to his feet, and Mycroft painfully realized tears streaming down his brother's face. "Please, convince me again that caring is not an advantage."

The red haired smiled slightly and shook his head. "I will not do that, Sherlock. You know deep down none of us ever believed this. It was all to protect you after Redbeard."

"Then protect me again!" Sherlock begged, walking towards the older man. "These feelings are too complicated and I don't stand a chance with John. The second he realizes I care for him that way, it's gonna be heartbreak all over again! Because I know that's not reciprocate!"

"What?!" Mycroft crooked his head in this belief. "What do you mean you don't stand a chance with him? The man has loved you since you've met and he's clearly bisexual. Of course it's reciprocate!"

"He loves me as a friend." Sherlock cried. "And if I tell him I feel more I will mess everything up!"

"Sherlock, you're obviously out of your mind." He emphasized it, noticing how much the feelings were messing up Sherlock's thoughts. "John loves you just as much as you love him. The way he looks at you! Everyone notices that, and..." Mycroft hesitated. Kind words didn't come to him naturally, but he needed to make Sherlock feel better, so he focused on all the love he had for his little brother to bring the words out. "you deserve to be happy and cared for! John must be dying to tell you the very same, but fearing as well that it's not reciprocate, and you two are only wasting time you could be together! So if you don't direct your self immediately to Baker Street and tell him how do you feel, I will be forced to make sure he knows it another way."

Sherlock wiped away some tears, impressed by Mycroft's speech. He almost dared to say it was touching. "What if it fails?" He asked, pouring out the fear in his heart.

"I was there for you before, I'll be there for you again." He paused. "But it won't fail, I'm certain. And I'll be there anyway." Mycroft said, reassuringly, and Sherlock had to purse his lips into a smile. The older brother put an arm around the younger's shoulders, offering him a lift to Baker Street.

After a silent couple minutes in the backseat of the car, with an entire plan for John laid out in his head, although excited and nervous, Sherlock's mind was slightly clearer, allowing him to notice a detail in Mycroft's recent speech.

"Mycroft," he called the man sitting by his side "you said everyone notices the way John looks at me. How could you possibly know that?"

He hesitated. "I don't know it, I simply assumed it. Even ordinary people notice this sort of thing."

Sherlock squinted his eyes towards his brother. "Hmm, nope. Tell the truth."

Mycroft looked up and sighed. "Since it's still December 1, I suppose I have to." He took a deep breath and faced Sherlock again, his eyes switching between his brother and the floor. "I, too, have been struck by the affairs of my own heart." He cleared his throat. "So I have been dedicating some of… my time… and attention… to a particular person."

Sherlock was absolutely incredulous. Jaw dropped. He had a million questions and even more deductions going on, his brain working at the speed of light as if it had never been completely taken and blurred by the Watson-question. But only one thing mattered now, and he didn't even had to ask.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, knowing perfectly well the main thought on his brother's mind. "Lestrade." He answered the implicit question.

Sherlock laughed as hard as he could, and an intense red crept up Mycroft's cheeks. "Really, William?" He had just been so welcoming to his brother, comforted him so nicely, how dared him make fun of such a special thing?

But the younger man didn't answer answer with words, nor he was making fun of the red haired. It was trully comic to think of this couple: the serious and clever British government himself and the street smart outgoing DI, but he was unbelievably happy for his brother; Lestrade was a good - and apparently charming to his brother's taste - man and Mycroft was probably very much in love to be dating him, so as the detective gradually stopped laughing, he just hugged Mycroft, resting his head on his big brother's shoulder.

Mycroft accepted the gesture, understanding Sherlock didn't really mean to make fun of him - otherwise he would have made himself very clear with sharp words. He tenderly caressed the hand the dark haired had around him, and just like that, they were Myc and William again.

What do you think? Let me know!

- Luna

#sherlock holmes #bbc sherlock #johnlock #john watson #sherlock x john #i am sherlocked #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #mycroft holmes #mycroft bbc #benedict cumberbatch #mark gatiss #martin freeman #steven moffat

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archiveikemen · 1 year

Text

Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 21 (Blind Love)

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Liam: I don't ever want to disappear before your eyes again.

There was a passionate look in his rose coloured eyes as he gazed at me, and I was so mesmerised that I forgot how to breathe.

We’ve exchanged glances like this many times, but somehow that felt like it was the first time.

The slight change made my heart go crazy.

It made me want to embrace the change.

Liam: Hey, Kate.

Liam: I couldn’t take your hand back then. However—

Liam: However…

While his face contorted as he tried to force out the words that were caught in his throat, I shook my head.

Kate: You don’t have to force yourself to say something. You can tell me when you're ready to.

Liam: … Okay.

Liam: Thanks… Kate.

Kate: You’re welcome?

Liam: Ahaha, why did that sound like a question?

Kate: Fufu, I wonder.

When we looked at each other and burst into laughter, I realised that it had been a while since we last laughed together.

The tiny change that might seem insignificant to others was so precious to me that it caused a yearning feeling in my heart.

…

The next day, Liam and I headed for The Scala.

It was to put into action the plan William proposed, and—

As usual, all the troupe members were present at The Scala, practising their vocalisations and rehearsing for the play.

Tom’s eyes met Liam’s while he was mixing around with the troupe members and earnestly guiding them.

Tom: … Li… Liam.

Liam: … Tom.

Liam: … Tom… I… you...

Before Liam could explain himself, Tom ran up to him and threw his arms around him.

Tom: You don’t have to say anything. … You’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me.

(Tom must have so many questions he wants to ask Liam, but his happiness from seeing him has surpassed them.)

Liam: … I’m sorry. And, thank you.

Troupe Member: Uwa, Tom and Liam are flirting with each other again!

Troupe Member 2: Are you okay with that, Kate? He’s being unfaithful, he’s a cheater!

We smiled at each other as the troupe members watched and teased us.

Liam: Anyway, Tom, I have something to discuss with you— I mean, with everyone here at The Scala.

Tom: Judging from the look on your face, it must be something as important as a love confession.

Tom: OK, I’ll have everyone gather.

When Tom called out to them, everyone gathered around Liam and I.

(Everyone at The Scala should never know about me being a fairytale writer and the existence of Crown.)

Anyone who found out about that secret would have only one possible fate awaiting them — being silenced.

When I thought about it, I knew that the plan would be anything but calm, and I could get a sense of the lengths William would go to.

It seemed that Liam was thinking the same thing, and he spoke with an even more serious look on his face.

Liam: Long story short — there is a message I want to send to all of England, through the use of this play.

Liam briefly explained that a dangerous organisation in England by the name of “Golden Butterfly” that had once been annihilated was showing signs of reviving its activities.

Due to the identity of the mastermind behind its revival being unknown, the plan was to make use of theatre to convey the message “stop the revival”.

(It might not sound very convincing because he left out some pieces of information to avoid putting everyone at risk.)

Liam: I can’t reveal the reason why I want to destroy that organisation. … I’m sorry.

Liam: But I know for sure that if we leave them as they are, more people will be hurt.

Liam: Therefore, I hope that all of you will agree to help me…

Kate: … I, too, would like to ask the same of everyone.

Tom: …

Tom: Lift your heads, Kate and Liam. The answer to your request for help is YES.

Kate • Liam: …!

Tom: What does the art of stage acting exist for? It exists for the people.

Tom: We believe that theatre has the miraculous ability to move the hearts of people. Is that right, all of you?

The eyes of the troupe members around us were filled with passion, hope, and trust.

Tom: It’s time for The Scala to come together and destroy that wicked organisation…!

Entire Troupe: Woooo…!

Troupe Member 1: Don’t we look like heroes standing up for justice?

Troupe Member 2: Yes, yes. I’m getting all pumped up!

Liam: Oh—... uhm.

It was rather funny to see Liam being the only one standing there awkwardly amidst everyone being excited and calling the plan “justice”.

Tom: Moreover…

Tom: This is the first time you’ve ever asked us for a favour. Therefore, we’ll do everything possible to help you!

Liam: … —anks.

Liam’s soft “thanks” reached my ears as I stood next to him.

Bianca: Men! It’s nice to get excited, but we should at least decide on the play first!

Bianca: Right, Kate?

Kate: Fufu, you’re right.

Tom: I’ll write a script that will include the existence of “Golden Butterfly” in the story and will make the crowd go wild.

Tom: Word won’t spread all over England if the story is boring, right?

Liam: In that case, how about “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”?

I recalled the time Tom had previously explained to us what he wanted The Scala to play.

"The story is set in 15th Century Paris. At the Notre Dame Cathedral, there was a man named Quasimodo.

Quasimodo spent his days alone at the top of the tall tower ringing the bells, never knowing what the outside world was like.

One day, he met a beautiful dancer named Esmeralda and fell in love with her."

Liam: I’ve read the original, and I thought “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” was a story about battles.

Liam: Battles against fate and things that hurt oneself. … I don’t know how to phrase this better, but I just think that this story is perfect for our current situation.

(Everything Liam just said are truths. They’re all precious things that I treasure.)

(However, Liam’s tone… it sounds different from before.)

He was definitely saying those things out of his own will, and it moved the hearts of everyone present and mine as well.

The gentle warmth melted the ice.

Everyone present nodded in agreement.

Tom: Then it’s decided, The Scala’s next production will be “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”. So, Liam—

Tom: I still want you to play the role of Quasimodo, the main character. Will you accept the role?

Liam: …

Liam: What do you think, Kate?

There was a hint of fear in those eyes in front of me, but the old dangerous tendency to invalidate one's own will in order to satisfy others was no longer there.

Kate: What do YOU want to do, Liam?

Liam: I…

Liam: What do /I/ want to do, huh?

Fearful of taking the first step, Liam’s lips trembled.

Liam: I want to play the role of Quasimodo. I’ll do my very best, so please let me do it.

Tom: … Of course.

Tom: Now that it’s been decided, I shall make the necessary changes to the script! There’s the stage setting to take care of as well. Things will get very busy from now on.

Liam: Ahaha, that’s right.

…

We worked days and nights to prepare for the performance of “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”.

During that period of time, we received some unexpected help—

Troupe Member: Kate, Liam, over here!

(Huh…?)

The members of the theatrical troupe were holding more lavish packed lunches than their arms could carry.

Troupe Member: It was delivered to us without prior notice, but the sender didn’t leave a name. We only have this message card.

Liam: …?

“To my beloved Liam and Kate.

I made these myself, so please enjoy them with everyone there.

Wishing you all the best for your performance.”

Kate • Liam: … It’s Victor.

Troupe Member: I was about to throw them away because they could be a bad prank, but they looked too delicious…

Liam: Pfft, ahaha. A prank?

Liam: This is from a very passionate fan of mine and Kate’s. All of you can be rest assured and eat up.

< timeskip >

Troupe Member: I need to put this curtain up, but I can’t reach that height. Does anyone have a ladder—

Ellis: … You want to put this up? Alright, let me help you.

Troupe Member: Huh…?

Ellis unexpectedly dropped by the theatre to help out and was able to get much of the work done easily with his amazing agility.

Bianca: Liam. You sure have a few rather… unusual friends.

Liam: Mm, that’s true.

Ellis: Kate, Liam, is there anything else that needs to be done?

Kate: Oh, in that case—

(... Everyone is doing what they can to help out.)

Every time, Liam would smile, a little bewildered, but he was genuinely happy.

He savoured every subtle act of kindness like each one of them was a miracle.

(... I’ve been by Liam’s side for quite a while, but this is the first time I’m seeing this side of him.)

I didn’t want to miss out on any changes that could possibly be happening in Liam’s heart.

My gaze was naturally drawn to him, like a butterfly attracted to a flower.

When we were almost done with the preparations for the play, an unexpected “guest” came to the theatre for Liam.

Liam: … Harry.

Kate: Huh?

We went up to the second floor of the theatre and saw Harrison leaning against a wall, staring at the stage.

Harrison: Haha, you’re too quick to notice. I intended to keep watching for a little more before calling out to you.

Harrison: Looks like all of you have been working and rehearsing hard. Good work.

Kate: By any chance, are you here to help?

Harrison: No way, I’m not such a kind person.

Harrison: Now, I did something else instead.

He looked at us as we cocked our heads in puzzlement, and narrowed his mint coloured eyes that could see through lies.

Harrison: There’s a limit to the amount of people you can convey your message to, if you rely solely on your performance.

Harrison: That means that your message might not reach the initiator of the revival of “Golden Butterfly”, who could be somewhere else in England.

(Um, so that means—)

Kate: In order to spread this one drop of poison throughout England, we need to make it a popular topic for conversation…?

Harrison: Yeah, exactly.

Harrison pulled a letter out of his pocket and waved it at us.

Kate: An invitation to the play?

Harrison: I made a request to an acquaintance in the publication industry to invite journalists from newspaper publishers and magazines to the play.

Harrison: If they enjoy the play, they’ll publish huge articles about it.

Harrison: Ah, and of course this invitation is real. I spoke to Tom Crawford, and he gave me this seat.

Liam: Could it be that…

Liam: You’ve been working behind the scenes?

Harrison: This is one of my missions. All I did was get my job done.

Harrison: If the performance is of poor quality, our plan will be a failure. Do your best.

Liam: … Thanks, Harry.

Harrison: Yeah. Oh, and one more thing.

Harrison: Your father, Max Evans, was given an invitation too.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil main story #liam main story #niki translates

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mywritingonlyfans · 8 months

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Your Boy. // Alex Turner X Reader! (Smut)

prompt: reader feels briefly insecure and alex is there to listen to her. (some fem oral, riding, missionary and some more comfy and goofy and sex stuff)

words: 3.1K

a/n: this fic was originally written with alex, but yes i posted it here before intended for someone else. but since i'll be posting it on wattpad i thought it was fair to post here as well.

You appeared distant, your gaze unfocused, but it was evident that your unease had nothing to do with sadness caused by him. Silence filled the car, a departure from the usual comfort it provided between you. Your eyes were fixed on the road, avoiding his, a shift that had taken place sometime before leaving the party. As he drove, he lightly brushed his fingers over your knees, his touch gentle, leaving his hand there for reassurance once he realized that you weren't feeling unwell because of him. The guitar calluses traveled the place with dexterity, meant for you. Your delicate hand touched his, fingers playfully interlocking, and you found solace in that simple contact. He found himself smiling gently at the gesture.

In your mind, avoiding moments like this would possibly make you seem more mature in his eyes. But all he really wanted was for you to feel comfortable enough with him, that any of your concerns could be shared with him. After all, he loved you, and it was only fair that you’d both be a safe space for each other. Cupping your face, he carefully kissed you, and you responded with slow, pleasurable movements, allowing him to guide you through it. Gradually, he kissed away your tears, until a soft smile broke through your silent deep sighs. You embraced him, seeking comfort in his chest, finding his embrace unlike any other. He kissed the top of your head in silence, waiting until you let go calmly.

"I feel so silly," you whispered, wiping your cheeks with your hands and allowing his eyes to comfort you. In truth, he held no judgment in them.

"You're not," he said, his voice strong, sharp accent yet comforting. It could whisk away your worries and clear your mind. "If it's bugging you, then it ain't silly," he added, his hands resting easy on your waist, fingers pressing gently. He motioned for you to settle on his lap as he made himself comfy on the couch near the entrance. A soft chuckle slipped from you, and his gaze locked onto yours. This time, the silence felt easygoing, and you held his eye until you felt like talking. He had a knack for calming you down.

"I get that," you giggled, your cheeks turning a bit hot as you admitted it. You knew he'd never given you reason to doubt. He nodded and his fingers brushed your chin, his brown-puppy eyes tracing every feature on your face. "I'm having trouble wrapping my head ‘round it, babe," a tiny wrinkle formed between his brows, showing his confusion. A gentle kiss from you smoothed it out.

It was good to watch because most of all, he was still shy, and it was remarkable, but he wanted to see you well.

"I sorta need you," your breath hitched, and he chuckled, understanding. "I can feel it, little one," he took your hand in his and kissed it, then you traced the sharp line of his cheekbone and ran your thumb over his redness. He closed his eyes, and you found yourself melting into his embrace, adoring the more pronounced lines of his expressions, the way they smiled and relaxed along with him, making it clear that he didn't regulate his age with yours. But it was lovely. He was so attractive, in a way that was hard to keep up with when he was this close. You brushed his hair away from his face and touched your lips to his forehead, placing kisses along his nose, cheeks and down his neck, and over his shoulders until you found your way to his chest. Your body was restless, and while you might not have recognized it, he could feel the heat building beneath you. He let out a low grunt, spreading out across the seat as you wriggled on top of him, peppering him with kisses and playful bites.

"I don't want any bad thoughts lingering in your head, not even the most fleeting ones, got it?" Still seated, he lifted the hem of your dress, placing wet kisses on your thighs until he reached your lower belly. His nose nuzzled into your skin, so gentle it made you feel slightly guilty for being this desperate. Alex chuckled as he observed how readily you lifted the fabric to give him better access, and with his eyes on you, he trailed his fingertips along your pulsating nerve, seemingly begging for his touch. You pulled back a little, but he shook his head. "Don't move, little one," he anchored your hip with a firm grip, his fingers circling the area, your body involuntarily pressing into his touch for more. He let out a deep, drawn-out sigh as he felt you make his tips sticky through the thin fabric. His throat tightened as his temples throbbed, his body yearning to feel you melt under his mouth as you always did so wonderfully.

Without dragging it out for too long, as he knew he wouldn't be able to bear it for much time, he delicately interlocked his fingers with the hems and pulled them down. His lips moistened as he saw the lace peel off you with some difficulty due to how damp it was. And sure, there was indeed a wet patch on your panties. For balance, you grasped his shoulders, squeezing eagerly with a pleading gaze, and he shut his eyes, kissing the area, his mouth watering and devoid of prior thoughts. He held you firmly in place and licked from the center up, gathering your essence on his tongue, his eyes closing in pure pleasure at being able to feel you. Yours clenched shut, and your mouth fell open as you experienced the warm sensation and perfect pressure of how he sucked you, as if it truly granted him as much bliss as it did for you.

With his eyes locked onto yours, your body still trembling, you found your words stuck in your throat. He was just as desperate as you, though he concealed it well. The snug trousers he wore due to his position, and the zipper left open, which you only noticed now, made you wonder how uncomfortable he was. "Can I ride you, babe?" You were soft and mesmerizing to him. He appreciated how you always asked, an act so delicate for such a moment, but it had become characteristic, and he would certainly miss it if you changed.

"I want to be good for you," you whispered, and he couldn't deny that even if he tried as he shed the layers of fabric that held your disapproval. He marveled at how flustered and nervous you sounded, unable to control both your mind and your senses at the same time. And in a matter of seconds, you were on his lap once again, your head nestled on his shoulder as he kissed your neck and face. You began to grind against him, your touches growing more fervent.

You worked your way onto him, lifting yourself slightly and settling back down, taking him all into you. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, husky and accentuated, filling you up completely. “Aren’t you, doll?”

"It's okay, pretty girl, I've got you," he whispered amidst more persistent sighs, his hands gaining a rhythm against your hips, making your body more relaxed and ready to accommodate him. You rubbed yourself on him just beautifully. His lips grazed your collarbone, wet kisses and nips tracing over your exposed skin. He lowered the straps further, your breasts on display for him, in a gentle sway prompted by you. He took one in his mouth, your nails grazing him, marks he knew would be left, but he relished in it. He sucked on the flesh, releasing it with a wet sound before giving the same attention to the other, fingertips skimming over the erect nipple and then warm tongue soothing you through it all. He gave them time and attention, enveloping them slowly, taking it to himself until the tip of his nose was all dipped in your scent and then letting go cunningly, lost in desire. Your hands tangled in his hair, a sound escaping him as he rested his forehead against yours, leaving you even more soaked. Your legs grew sluggish, and you found yourself grinding against him more than riding, a detail he didn't miss. He lifted with you briefly, and soon you were lying on your back, him atop you. His face was still close, breath mixing with yours in the warm space between you. You clung to his shirt collar firmly, both for control and to keep him close, and he chuckled. "Please, I'm aching, Al," your vision blurred as tears formed, your body trembling without any movement from him. He trailed his nose across yours, his hair falling onto your face, which you brushed aside to kiss him better. You hugged him tight, curling into his chest, and gradually, air filled your lungs as your body was brought up and down with his.

"You're being so good to me. Look at what you do to me, fuck. How could you even think you're not just mine, and only mine alone?" His voice was disoriented, dark and staggered, clearly needing to focus intently to sound coherent. And then his gaze locked onto you, eagerly waiting to take in every last bit of it. He was gentle, even in his urgency, and you loved that he knew your body so well that you didn't have to tell him what you needed. With him deep inside you, feeling your senses growing restless, he braced his hands above your head, applying more pressure, your eyes closing as he held you tight to him. The tears running down your cheeks that would soon be kissed clean. He loved to watch it. He whispered soothingly for you to calm down, sweet nothings while he thrust you through that sensation until your mind was filled with his rough, broken moans as he peaked along with you. His body collapsed onto yours, the weight becoming comfortable, your fingers tracing lines along the spots of his back, and he didn't fail to kiss your exposed skin. "I love you," you said, breathless, his hand affectionately running over you.

And you were right; you'd fall asleep next to him, entwined, and wake up with a clearer mind. You could already imagine getting up in his shirt, going to sit on his lap while he wore his glasses and had a book ready to be put aside for your more important presence. No one else could bring you the comfort he did. He settled beside you, both your breaths gradually returning to normal, and just before his lips brushed yours in a smile, he whispered in his lazy voice, "I love you, and I'm yours, only yours, my girl."

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3

...

to be tagged you can just lmk or open my !google form! (you can decide in which ones you want to be tagged and also let you're request or thoughts there with me!)

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #alex turner smut #arctic monkeys #alex turner imagine #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you

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kunikame · 2 years

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¡! ❝ REDAMANCY .. ❞

╰┈➤ ❝ [00] i'm sorry? ❞ | m. list | next

sakasaki natsume x fem! reader smau

warning(s) : cussing, fake dating

w/c : 1k

the school bell rang, signalling the end to your final class of the day. you stretched in your chair, hearing some of your bones crack, and started packing up your things.

"are we still on for movie night?"

your head snapped to the right where you saw mao gazing at you while packing the last of his things and your face lit up. humming, you stood up.

"mm, yeah, but i gotta go to the library first. go ahead without me. i'll see you at 5?"

"alright, have fun. see you at 5."

walking through the crowded halls you slowly made your way over to the library. you've been coming here to look for a specific book for the past 3 weeks yet it's never there when you look for it. in hopes of getting your hands on it this time, you came earlier than usual.

slamming the door open and frantically searching the bookshelves, you came up empty handed, once again. sighing in defeat and leaning back to stare at the ceiling, you figured you can just buy the book after all.

"i swear there has to be a secret room or some shit.."

"oh, there is one."

stumbling off the table you were leaning on and nearly giving yourself whiplash while turning around, you were startled to see someone else in the room. the door never opened - or at least, you never heard it open.

"my apologies for giving you a fright, kitten. how may i and my secret room be of service to you?"

"i'm sorry?"

the red haired boy chuckled, "you were questioning the existence of a secret room, were you not?"

"i was, yeah, but who the hell are you and when did you get in here?"

he was taken aback then, almost as if he was surprised you don't know him, then he chuckled once again - the sound becoming increasingly annoying, it's like he's making fun of you. "my bad, i didn't realize you do not know me. the name is sakasaki natsume, at your service," with a little bow for dramatic effect.

he could literally see the lightbulb above your head just then, "ohhh! you're the magician dude! the one leo told me about!"

"that.. would be me, yes.." the eye twitch was a clear sign he did not favor the name.

"anyway, magician guy with a secret room, i'm looking for a book. is it in your lair by any chance?"

"maybe. maybe not. come down and find out."

following a stranger into a shady secret room in an idol school may not be the best idea but hey, leo trusts the guy, and you really want that book, so, why not. after looking around for a while, you finally found it. you reached to grab it only to have it promptly snatched from under your fingertips.

"oi- magician dude! gimme my book!"

"i will, but i want something in exchange."

you crossed your arms, "no way am i doing anything for you. you're shady as hell."

"i led you to your book and granted you entrance to a secret room, mind you. it's just a little thing."

as much as you hate to admit, he did have a point. nobody forced him to help you, or to let you in here. so you sigh.

"god, fine. what do you want?"

"go out with me."

"absolutely not."

"what?!"

he was so genuinely surprised, it was sad. was this his first time asking someone out?

"you heard me, there's no way in hell i'll date a stranger. a shady one at that. give me my book or ask for something el-"

"wait, wait, no. i need you to go out with me. not actually, just fake date me for a while. there's, like, a gala thing i need to attend and my mother wanted to set me up with someone but i told her i had a girlfriend and now she wants to meet her. you're the first person who i saw, it must be fate. you were sent to me as an answer to my manifestation," he was shaking you by your shoulders now, "please - and i don't usually beg people - go out with me for a short while."

he seemed.. sincerely desperate. after telling him to stop shaking you - which he did, without hesitation - you stopped to think.

pros - a boyfriend, a pretty boyfriend, bragging rights, your book, access to a secret room, attend a gala = fancy clothes

cons - a stranger, meeting his mom, keeping up an act, attend a gala = fancy clothes + fancy people

the pros clearly outweighed the cons in your mind, so just as before, you sighed.

"can you prove this is true?"

the redhead, to your surprise, pulled up his messages with his mother and gladly showed them to you.

natsume was really desperate here. while he did want his mothers approval, he also wanted her to stop bothering him with getting a girlfriend. you seemed like a decent person, so this was a win-win situation. he'll get on his knees and beg if he has to. okay, maybe not that far, but you get the point.

"..alright, fine. i guess i'm your girlfriend now. how long does this act need to go on?"

natsume was overjoyed. he has a date! he doesn't need to hire anyone! and he has enough time to get comfortable enough with you to put on a decent act!

"until the gala and a bit after so it's not obvious it's fake, so i'd say about … 5 months?"

"that's a long damn time!"

"yeah, well, we need time to get comfortable. plus i didn't think i'd find someone this fast. it's going great so far."

"for you maybe… alright weirdo, i gotta get going now. i'll see you around then, it seems."

"yeah, see you around. and thank you."

you sent a 2 finger salute his way without turning around and promptly left the secret room and the school entirely, texting the group chat on your way.

╰┈➤ synopsis ❝after yumenosaki academy resident magician and eccentric sakasaki natsume asks you to "go out with him", you immediately shut him down. so why is he dedicating a song to you at a switch concert? and why are people whispering about you being the cutest couple?❞

ੈ✩‧₊˚ TAGLIST : @miihai @nattchu @ikasaeki / ask/comment to be added! (if you’re in bold i can’t tag you)

#☆ : redamancy #ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars x y/n #ensemble stars x you #enstars #enstars natsume #enstars x reader #natsume x reader #natsume sakasaki #sakasaki natsume #natsume sakasaki x reader #sakasaki natsume x reader

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