#i'm fixing this. i'm giving her ears. i don't like being aware of her lack of ears | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

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emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #Bruce Banner #bun writes #I haven't written shit in a month and boom #6k words in three hours #i don't like the ending #I'm bad at them #okay #okay .

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bluewinnerangel · 3 years

Text

This is about One Direction.

Of course. Soooo I guess I just made a masterpost of times not saying things showed up in their lyrics. Not just 1D, but all of their solo work as well. It's a lot. I don't know if it's really uncalled for or super called for, you know to post this now, on (close to) their 11 year anniversary and all that, but it's been in my drafts for a while and it seems to be wtf are they, all this band does is lie central today so I'm just gonna release it. Here you have it. I'm sorry.

It’s loooaaaads of Zayn (but I mean he has the most lyrics too) but they’re all at it a bunch. If you're into song parallels / reoccurring themes / patterns as much as I am this is going to be gold, if not then its just a whole bunch of ~lines from songs and more songs~.

Anyway what pushed me to do this in general is how well it highlights they were and remain silent. On what exactly I can't tell you and that's the whole point, they apparently can't either. Here’s a fun gif while we cry over having way too many questions:

Times not saying stuff (or not listening/being heard, having secrets, truth/lying etc: lack of honest communication) showed up in their music below the cut:

Just be aware that loads of these are definitely taken out of context, and while for some it's just really funny that I list them here between more serious lines, for others it's not very fair, but for most I think the context actually doesn't matter that much as the theme / vibe and choices of wording things in music actually matter more than whatever concept of what a song is about its written into. So it's about the persistent theme here, whatever the context it's written into, and yaknow even if half of them can be explained away there's still the other half. (also i might have missed a lot but look at how much this is already) Anyway:

One Direction (don’t mind me ignoring the first 2 albums):

Midnight Memories

Written in these walls are the stories that I can't explain - Story Of My Life

I know nothing's making sense, For tonight let's just pretend - Midnight Memories

Why is it so hard to say it? - Strong

So many words we're not saying - Strong

One day you'll come into my world and say it all - Something Great

One day you'll say these words, I've thought but never said - Something Great

The script was written and I could not change a thing, I want to rip it all to shreds and start again - Something Great

But you, you don't tell the truth - Little White Lies

And your eyes keep saying things - Little White Lies

I don't know how else to sum it up, 'Cause words ain't good enough, There's no way I can explain your love - Better Than Words

I whispered something in her ear that I just can't repeat - Alive

Four

Some say, "She's such a fake", That her love is made up - Girl Almighty

Spaces between us hold all our secrets, Leaving us speechless - Spaces

And you say, It's hard to keep a secret, Girl - Change Your Ticket

You're the truth I can explain, you're the only one I see, it's not an illusion to me - Illusion

Made in the A.M.

And if you like having secret little rendezvous, if you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do - Perfect

All I ever wanted was the truth - Infinity

All I know at the end of the day, is you want what you want and you say what you say - End of the Day

I think I might give up everything, just ask me to, pay attention, I hope that you listen - If I Could Fly

In her eyes there's no lies, no lies, there's no question, she's not in a disguise - What A Feeling

Unexplainable, a love that only we could understand - Love You Goodbye

'Cause the truth is out, I realize that without you here life is just a lie - History

Saw your body language and I know how you're feeling, You look like the kind of girl that's tired of speaking - Temporary Fix

All my favourite conversations, always made in the A.M. Cause we don't know what we're saying, we're just swimming round in our glasses, and talking out of our asses - A.M.

Make a little conversation, so long I've been waiting, to let go of myself and feel alive - Home

Louis

All the smiles that I'm faking/Maybe I was lying when I told you "Everything is great, Everything is fucking great" - Miss You

It's not over 'til it's all been said - Just Hold On

But you only get half of the story - Just Like You

I'm just like you, If you only knew - Just Like You

Things we'd never say to someone else out loud, - We Made It

This is everything I've waited for, Now we can finally have a conversation, That I wish we could've had before - Too Young

And no amount of words will ever be enough - Walls

I took some time 'cause I ran out of energy of playing someone I heard I'm supposed to be - Habit

Tell me the truth, Tell me do you still remember feeling young, Strong enough to get it wrong, In front of all these people - Fearless

You know as well as I, it's all lies - Fearless

We're sleeping on our problems like we'll solve them in our dreams - Defenceless

Tryna find what to say to you, Been up all night, All night, running all my lines, But it's only the truth, Been up all night, Not sure how to say this right, Got so much to lose - Defenceless

But you don't have a thing to prove - Defenceless

tall stories on the page - Only The Brave

Nothing is original, there's nothing left to say, You won't be the first or be the last to bleed, Every broken heart as far as your eye can see, It's a copy of a copy of a copy - COAC

Harry

We don't talk about it, It's something we don't do - Meet Me In The Hallway

We don't talk enough, we should open up, before it's all too much, will we ever learn? We've been here before, it's just what we know - Sign of the Times

Tongue-tied like we've never known, Telling those stories we already told, 'Cause we don't say what we really mean - Two Ghosts

I always think about you and how we don't speak enough - Sweet Creature

Tell me something, tell me something, You don't know nothing, just pretend you do, Tell me something just before you go, Oh, tell me something I don't already know - ESNY

I told you, but I know you never listen, I hope you can see, the shape that I'm in - Woman

We haven't spoke since you went away, Comfortable silence is so overrated - From The Dining Table

You don't have to say you love me, You don't have to say nothing, You don't have to say you're mine, Honey - Adore You

Would you believe it? - Adore You

What do you mean? - Lights Up (THIS IS A JOKE ORRR ISSS ITTT)

Forget what I said, It's not what I meant, And I can't take it back, I can't unpack the baggage you left, What am I now? - Falling

And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say - Falling

What if I'm someone you won't talk about? - Falling

He takes a boat out, Imagines just sailing away, And not telling his mates, He wouldn't know what to say - She

While he plays pretend, So pretend - She

I was just tongue-tied / I’m still tongue-tied - Sunflower, Vol 6

You gotta see it to believe it - Canyon Moon

Quick pause in conversation - Canyon Moon

Pretends not to know the words - Canyon Moon

I don't need all the answers - TPWK

I don't know what I'd tell you if you asked me for the truth - Anna

I don't ever tell you how I really feel, 'Cause I can't find the words to say what I mean, And nothing's ever easy, That's what they say - Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart

This by the way also demonstrates why I don’t think Harry&Louis have problems with miscommunication within their relationship but rather to the public, because:

Niall

And I want to tell you everything, the words I never got to say the first time around - This Town

Over and over the only truth, Everything comes back to you - This Town

And if you get lost in the light, It's OK. I can see in the dark, all your thoughts running through your head, the things you think better left unsaid - Since We’re alone

And I tell you things you've never heard before, asking questions to the ceiling - Flicker

Just the entire song Fire Away

She closed the door, She hides behind the face nobody knows, She feels her skin touch the floor, She wants to fight, But her eyes are tired, nobody's on her side, She wants to feel like she did before, She looks into her mirror, Wishing someone could hear her, so loud - Mirrors she is harry fight me

'Cause the last time that we talked seems like forever, and ever, feels like you don't even know me, just me and the stars can get lonely - Dear Patience

Can you see that I'm anxious? Can you hear what I'm saying? - Dear Patience

If I pour my heart out, can you keep a promise? - Dear Patience

'Cause the situation is like a mountain that's been weighing on my conscience, if I'm being honest - Dear Patience

I'm not saying that you're lying but you're leaving out the truth and I'm not saying that you're guilty 'cause I don't have any proof, feeling like I'm going crazy and I don't know what to do ‘cause on paper you don't break them but it hurts so bad the way you bend the rules - Bend The Rules

Just say nothing, small talk only gets in the way - Small Talk (LOL ORRR ISSS ITTT)

If we're not gonna do this honestly baby won't ya give me back what you took apart when I was on my knees in the darkness, you'd be there to break my fall, But now I'm lying here so helpless - Arms Of A Stranger

You don't have to change when I'm around you so go ahead and say what's on your mind. When you're with me, no judgement, you can get that from anyone else - No Judgement

we don't have to prove nothing - No Judgement

I'll keep your secrets safe till the time we both find ourselves alone again - No Judgement

I want to let all my defenses down, scream until you hear me out, I'll lay it on the line for you, my mind's made up - San Francisco

So tell me you want it, a thousand miles away from the day that we started, but I'm standing here with you just tryna be honest, If honesty means telling you the truth - Still

Zayn

and I can’t tell you why because my brain can’t equate it, tell me your lies because I just can’t face it - It’s You

I won't cover my scars, I'll let 'em bleed so my silence won't be mistaken for peace - It’s You

So say what you wanna say, what you wanna, so say what you wanna say, what you gotta say, now, so say what you wanna say, what you want - BeFoUr

No strings for you to pull on, you've got your tongue in your cheek, so pardon if I don't speak - BeFoUr

'Cause I have no time to help you find all the words, melodies and memories, stories that sound absurd, I will tell no lies - rEaR vIeW

don't think because you're with me this is real - wRoNg

They don't know what I know, how long I've had to hold, you're like a commotion, all because of me, so take it off, let's break down all of our walls, right now, I wanna see it all, I don't wanna cool off, so let's cross the lines we lost. You were right on the border, No falling in, don't need no proof, Beautiful insanity, You're like a movie, change the scene, taste your sweet profanity - BoRdErSz (again this just looks like a sexy sexy thing OOORRRR ISSS ITTT)

The entirety of tRuTh but:

Don't know how many times, I've had to say this to you - tRuTh

I won't point any fingers, I won't say it was you, I let life take its time, And in time you see the truth, I won't ask any questions, I won't say it was you, I'll let life take its time, And in time you see the truth, See the truth [8x] - tRuTh

And in time you’ll see the truth. - tRuTh

sit and talk shit all night, Does that make it right for smoke - lUcOzAdE

And the only solution is making shit confusing - lUcOzAdE

No lies in my eyes, nothing but truth will leave my mouth, I'm tryna fucking scream but the words won't come out, I'm, tryna fuckin' scream but the words won't come out - lUcOzAdE

Hey, what's up? It's been a while, Talking 'bout it's not my style - LIKE I WOULD (Also LIKE I WOULD I feel like in its entirety is like hey waddup my 1D bitches we still not talkinig huh but aflkjdslakfj)

What if I changed my mind? What if I said it's over? I've been flying so long, Can't remember what it was like to be sober, What if I lost my lives? What if I said game over? What if I forget my lines, And I lose all my composure? - Back To Life

I guess we all got a story, oh, Just tellin' mine, Change the scenario - Imprint

The entirety of Talk To Me, but:

The way that you say, The things that you do, I've been through, All of the games, All of the ways, That you've been fooled - Talk To Me

Talk to me, talk to me, yeah, oh, Talk to me, talk to me, Talk to me, talk to me, Talk to me, talk to me, Talk to me, TAAALLKKKTOTOOHHHMEEEHH sorry

Say your piece, The words that come out, Out of your mouth, I wanna hear - Talk To Me

We ain't keepin' no secrets - Talk To Me

Whispers in the background, Behind closed doors - There You Are

I don't mind, you can tell me your lies, I don't mind - I Don’t Mind

Street lamps lit like they're tryna teach us, I've seen this scene before, real life, The nature wrote the score, my lines - Good Guy

Cause I'm the one, the one, the one that you wish you knew - You Wish You Knew

Do you hear yourself when you speak? Do you see yourself desperately talkin' shit? Tryna act like you mad, I don't know you like that - You Wish You Knew

Aaand the entirety of Scripted again

I don't wanna say what's scripted - Scripted

When you lied to my face I could see the truth, Every step of the way I knew, How you fool me, boo - Entertainer

I watch you, I laugh away, fake it too - Entertainer

No one's playing no games, 'Cause that's basic, I'm being straight up, I know a fake love when I see it anyway - Entertainer

Cause now the whole damn world will know, That we're too numb and just too dumb to change the story, Neither one, one of us wants to say we're sorry - Good Years

hold the pain deep inside, It's in my eyes - Good Years

I think I need some fresh air, Feelin' under pressure, Don't wanna talk about it, Don't even get me started - Fresh Air

The truth won't break my heart, No, don't you worry, I already know oh oh, Too many bones inside your closet, You thought you buried deep, But they never let me get a minute of peace, How do you sleep? - Rainberry

Lost in the moment with no words to speak, I can't find no peace - Insomnia

Like I know I can't take it back, No there's nothing I can say, Must be an addiction, I wanted it all, didn't expect it to fall, Must be an affliction, I wanted to call, but I didn't call, Now it's keeping me up night and day, Keeping me up night and day - Too Much

When the room becomes a game we play, When lines they seem to turn to snakes, I guess I'll turn you back, Say white lies to your face, You know I love my place, Nothing I can say, Nothing I can say (nothing I can say) - Too Much

[Video interlude:] [Cop:] Your life in the daytime is over. There's eyes on you everywhere. You know that, right? I'm watching you. My crew's watching you. You know your little homies? They pissed off. They mad at you, bro. Your name is mud on the streets. Oh, I know who you are. [Zayn:] You don't know me. - Dusk Till Dawn

We were shut like a jacket - Dusk Till Dawn

You play your role and I play the same - Still Got Time

Zayn’s got a fking album called Nobody Is Listening

Really just Calamity as a whole again, but ok:

I prefer speaking in analogies - Calamity

Nobody, nobody is listening to me, Nobody, nobody is listening, Nobody, nobody is listening to me, Nobody, nobody is listening to me - Calamity

In too deep, we're rearranged, Now you wanna ask for names, We can't let this fruit go bad, Saying things we can't take back, In too deep, we're rearranged, Say you feel the same, Why? - Better

I know I'm always in my head, Some things, they must be said - Outside

Won't tell no lies, no lies to you - Vibez

It's like a force we can't explain - Connexion

So tired of fake friends, And fake love, you know, No time for no lie - Unfuckwitable

Forget whatever you been told - Unfuckwitable

Tightrope sounds like he’s ready to tell all, just the whole thing again.

Answers that will lie inside myself, What will I leave behind me? Where will I choose to go? To tell the truth, I'm tired of falling, When I'm floating I'm closer to you, We can't control all the outcomes, Let go of the reins, ride the rhythm, Doubled my vision, ain't fairly new to this feeling, Searchin' for meaning, still don't believe it, Stopped at the ceiling, all these years - River Road

Liam

This is only and all just Say It All basically one of the few songs he wrote and release is a wholeass song decidated to the point here:

Say what you want, say what you want

Now that just leaves you all of this shit, all of the bliss, tell me something real

Walls going up like we strangers, took me forever to say this

Baby, we should say it all, say it all, There's beauty in these broken walls, broken walls, Holding back is criminal, criminal

One of us should make the call, make the call

Baby, we should say it all, say it all

Sometime's it's bad

Baby, I know that you nervous

Sick and tired

SORRY ABOUT THIS

#HOW are we tagging this #all this band does is lie #miscommunication #themes?#welikeparallels #smart things with lyrics #so fking many lyrics god what to do here #liars #shitty little liars #pretty little shit liars

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

The Vessel. [ Pt. 8 ]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader

Summary: Tissaia de Vries pays you a visit and you are met with a startling revelation that can change your life, and the Witcher's forever. How are the two of you going to act upon it?

Warnings: None

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

"Why won't this fucking spell let me in?" Jaskier whined; in frustration, having tried for perhaps the tenth time to step into your chambers, but the spell that Yennefer had placed, had not allowed him to enter. And even Geralt, for that matter. Geralt had already experienced it once, and his sensible self didn't try it again, but Jaskier was headstrong, not wanting to stop trying until he had found a way to break that spell.

"Jaskier, let it go. Will you let her rest? Yen's put the spell to protect [Y/N]." Geralt tried to intervene, but the bard threw out both his hands in the air; dramatically and glared at him.

"I mean her no harm, Geralt. I'm sure you are very much aware of that. I love that woman."

Although Geralt knew that Jaskier meant it entirely in a platonic way; given the fact that the two of you had developed a deep rooted friendship ever since the whole knock you up with the Witcher baby drama had begun; a part inside of him flared with jealousy.

Jaskier, on the other hand felt guilt pierce through his heart, ever since he had found out exactly what had happened through Geralt. A part of it was his fault— although the entire conversation in the celebration revolving around Henrik had been a sodden joke from his end, because he had seen Henrik's eyes on her; he had never thought he would go to this extent. He felt guilty, finding himself responsible to a limit for what you had gone through, and he had to talk to you, get it off his chest; but the damn spell.

Geralt grabbed Jaskier from the collar of his shirt and began dragging him away from your room, without muttering a word, when finally, you emerged from your chambers, your eyes sullen, sleep deprived and deep dark bags already formed under them.

"Geralt, [Y/N]—" Jaskier tried pulling his shirt off the Witcher's clutches, trying to bring to a halt to the Witcher's dragging, "—Gods, you're such a big grizzly bear, would you look? She is here."

Geralt's head turned towards you and he let Jaskier go, his facial expressions changing almost instantly, from cold and unemotional to soft, and concerned; the second his eyes landed on you. You looked like a wreck, and Geralt mentally cursed himself, and his inability in that minute to reach out and provide you with comfort, or anything that could make you feel better, made him feel worse.

Instead, he decided to keep quiet, and let the bard talk to you instead, as he was already hovering around you, like a mother hen, concerned.

"[Y/N], I'm really sorry, I didn't know, I had no idea he was such a pervert, I swear to the Gods, had I known, I wouldn't have made those jokes—" he began, and you gave him a weak smile, reaching out and letting your hand rest against the side of his arm, aware of Geralt's eyes fixed on the exchange between the two of you.

"You had no idea, Jaskier. Stop beating yourself up, I'm alright."

Jaskier looked visibly relaxed upon hearing those words although he still wasn't entirely convinced, but decided not to push you any further.

"Would you like some breakfast? I'll ask someone to bring something up here for you," Jaskier asked softly, to which you simply shook your head, and turned to Geralt.

"I want to go home, Geralt. If you don't mind, can you arrange for a horse for me?"

Geralt stiffened when he was addressed directly, and he immediately nodded swiping his palm over his jaw and looked at you, "Give me some time, I'll arrange it."

"Thank you, Geralt," you whispered, giving him a meagre smile, before the smile was overshadowed by a painful look in your eyes, and Geralt forced himself to look away as he left you alone with the bard.

The bard did leave you alone shortly, with a promise to come back with a plate full of bread and ham for you; and you conceded because, as much as it pained you to think of it, you did want to be left alone, and this was the only way to make the hovering bard leave.

You were thankful you didn't see the sorceress all day, for you weren't ready to deal with her. But, you were shocked to have a visitor on your door, and a person you had least expected to see— Tissaia de Vries. When she stepped into your bed chambers, Yennefer's spell being no barrier for her, you weren't surprised, because you knew who she was.

"My name is Tissaia de Vries—"

"I know who you are, you are a member of the Chapter of the Gift and the Art, you are a powerful sorceress who created Yennefer of Vengerberg," you stood up from the side of your bed, your palms reflexively fixing on your bump as you stepped closer to the woman, eyeing her carefully from the corner of your eye. You noticed her lips curl into a smile, and she nodded, bringing her palms together and rubbing them lightly.

"Indeed, but the girl grew her wings, and she flew away."

You watched, noting how her smile faltered for a bit, and her eyes grew distant, as though she was suddenly plagued by certain memories, before she blinked, and turned towards you again; smiling at the curiousity that laced the features of your face.

"You must have questions."

"Yes, what do you want?" You pointed out, bluntly, without leaving a room for any further blabbering.

"Straight to the point, I see. Which is good. Saves me the effort, and the time," she slowly stepped closer, her head turning slightly to look for any unwanted ears out in the hallway prying into the conversation. Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed your wrist, although the grip was light; as she pulled you towards her, so her lips were lined to your ears.

"Yennefer hasn't been entirely honest with you. There are a lot of things you don't know, and you must know," you blinked, listening to her as she continued, "Now this mansion has ears, but if you wish to know more come find me, child. I will be at the tavern in the village below, just until dawn tomorrow."

Sneaking out of the mansion in the death of the night was easier than you had thought it would. Your face was almost covered, the cloak wrapped around your body, covering your face partially as you hurried down the secluded street of the village. You had walked for over a kilometer, and hadn't experienced anything dangerous so far, and you were thankful for it.

The village lights were finally in sight, and you breathed a sigh of relief, when someone caught your arm and pulled you to the side of the road. He pulled off the cloak off your face; and you were met with the Witcher's golden orbs, his lips pressed together in a firm line, that only told you that he wasn't happy with the way you had sneaked out.

"You followed me. All the way."

His nose twitched, and he let go off your arm, your fingers feeling tingling due to the lack of his touch.

"I wanted to see how reckless or stupid you could get," he mumbled, his voice raspy.

"And?" You parted your lips to let out your breath, still looking at him.

"You like to play with fire."

You rolled your eyes, and turned away as you began walking towards the village once more, and Geralt cursed under his breath, before he began following you.

"You think you can just leave in the middle of the night? I am arranging for you to leave, but like a normal human being, in the light of the day."

You let out a snort; your pace slowing down a bit to let the Witcher catch up with you, but you didn't stop walking. You turned your head slightly to look at him, "I'm not leaving, Geralt. I knew you were following me. I saw you."

Geralt's lips twitched, almost faintly but you caught it before he looked at you with all seriousness again.

"I'm sure you didn't want to just go out for a walk."

"Well—" Your hand flew to the back of your head, as you scratched it lightly, and pulled your gaze away. The village was already upon you. "— You wouldn't exactly have let me if I had asked for your permission."

"Fair."

Your eyes spotted the tavern, and a rush of adrenaline surged through you. You wouldn't lie; you were curious as to what was it that Tissaia knew, and you didn't.

"It's funny, Witcher, you barely used to say words to me. Look at you now."

He grunted in response to you, his own eyes now having captured the destination where you were headed; the tavern.

"The tavern?"

You ignored him as you stepped into the tavern, and your nose immediately scrunched upwards, as the horrid smell of ale; too much of it, filled in your nostrils. Ignoring the pang to throw up, your eyes began looking for Tissaia until you spotted her, sitting at the back, at a farther end, smiling and watching you. It was as though she knew you were coming.

"Tissaia de Vries?" Geralt mumbled, and you nodded. Before he could even stop you, you were striding towards her. He decided to simply follow you, now that he was here with you. It was better to keep his eye on you, in case she decided to pull up an antic.

"I see you're not alone, [Y/N]. Witcher." The sorceress nodded her head in his direction and motioned for the two of you to sit down on a bench in front of her. You looked at Geralt, and he craned his neck slightly, his eyes darting around, scanning the tavern for anything unusual, while you sat down. In a minute, he sat down too, the bench now feeling cramped with his massive frame just next to yours.

"Tell me what you told me earlier. About what Yennefer hid from me."

Geralt tensed beside you and you chose deliberately not to look at him, at the mention of her name, keeping your eyes fixed on the sorceress in front of you.

"I think it's time, Geralt. Yennefer's been keeping things from you, I thought you would have understood, but unfortunately—"

"Tissaia, I don't understand what game you are playing," Geralt leaned forward, his palm placed on the table, his eyes narrowed at her, his shoulders tense.

"Geralt," you whispered, "let her speak."

The White Wolf grumbled under his breath, but didn't say anything else. His shoulders remained tense, heat radiating from his body; that you could feel but you were too curious to listen to the sorceress to feel any different.

"There are certain spells that can take a human's life," Tissaia began, her solemn eyes now fixed on you, "they are strong enough to destroy a human body. Because a human body isn't strong enough to take it." She leaned forward, letting her elbows rest against the table as she picked a piece of red meat and tossed it into her mouth, chewing on it and swallowing it. "The point is, the spell that Yennefer used, to grow his child within you wasn't an ordinary spell. No human can endure the power of that spell, and come out unscathed. You did."

You turned towards Geralt and shot him a look, before turning back to the sorceress again, "I don't get it. I survived the spell. Which is why this happened," your hand flew to your belly, and you looked down at your stomach, feeling Geralt's gaze on it too, before the two of you turned towards her again and she nodded.

"You think it was a mere coincidence that Yennefer picked you, out of all the women in the world, to carry that baby?" She pointed to your stomach.

"I needed the coin."

"The coin was a facade, child."

She turned towards the Witcher and he blinked, "You didn't know it too, Wolf. She never mentioned [Y/N] before, did she? I doubt it. Yennefer never betrays her own plans."

"Get to the fucking point, Tissaia," Geralt growled, and you shifted uncomfortably towards him, agreeing with him on this. Tissaia was making you uncomfortable.

"Twenty five years back, Queen Calanthe gave birth to a girl, this was before Pavetta was born. Someone stole the baby the night she was born, but they never found her."

"I think we should leave." Geralt intervened.

You turned towards Geralt, confused and helpless, before turning back to the sorceress again.

"That baby had the Elder Blood running through her veins. She had immense power, power that could disrupt everything around her by just one scream from her throat."

"What happened to the baby?" You asked; your heart thumping wildly against your chest.

"That baby grew up until Yennefer of Vengerberg found her in Redania, and a Witcher put his child in her."

Tissaia found herself a smile, you couldn't help but gasp, and Geralt just deadpanned, "Well, fuck."

"You're telling me that I'm the Princess of Cintra? Gods you must be mistaken, I don't know anything about magic. I'm just a commoner that got trapped by these two for coin." You turned towards him, giving him a glare, and he grunted in response.

"You were never trapped, you chose to do it."

"You think Yennefer wants to be a mother?" Tissaia spoke again, but this time, her eyes were on Geralt. You glanced from him to her, and then back, until you had your eyes fixed on his uncomfortable form. His fingers had clenched into a fist. "Combine the Elder blood, with a Witcher's blood. No sorceress is powerful enough against that baby." She pointed towards your stomach, and instinctively, your palm flew towards it, trying to shield your bump from the woman's eyes. You felt Geralt stiffen too; as he shifted towards you, his own protective side spilling out at those words as he glanced at you.

"If you knew your lover well, White Wolf, you would have known. Her lust for power would never end. She wants that baby because that baby is the key for her to slide to the top."

Geralt swallowed thickly. His palm came to rest against the table in front of him, his grip tightening over it, his knuckles almost turning white. He knew Yennefer was power hungry; but never had he realized that her hunger was now out of control. He felt stupid now, and more than stupid, he felt relentless rage, because she had played him. All this while, he thought that she wanted his child— but all she wanted was a Witcher's child, mixed with the Elder Blood, so she could have, for herself, the most powerful magic yielder in the form of a child.

"It wasn't a coincidence then, that Yennefer wanted me to carry this baby," you whispered to Geralt who just looked at you blankly. You then turned to Tissaia, who tossed a piece of red meat into her mouth once again, her eyes fixed on you, "What power does Yennefer have over me?"

She smirked slightly, as though she had thought about this quite a lot.

"Well, your powers need to be harnessed, which is why she has an edge over you. Once you do learn to harness your powers, Yennefer wouldn't be a problem." She suddenly closed her eyes, and her lips started moving as she began chanting something and your eyebrow shot up. Within seconds, she was already done. "She wouldn't be able to track you for a while. You can go wherever you want. The effect of the spell should last five to six days."

Somewhere outside, a rooster suddenly crowed, signalling that it was morning. Tissaia de Vries suddenly lowered her cloak so that it covered her face.

"It's dawn, I will take your leave, [Y/N]. Find me whenever you need me," You watched, numbly, only nodding your head at her as she stood up, and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly until she was already out of sight. You kept sitting there, bellowed in silence, both of you breathing laboured, lost in your own thoughts.

Geralt finally pulled you out of your thoughts, "A Princess? I need a fucking drink."

Geralt stood up and walked away, to get himself a drink. You just kept staring at him, too shocked to even react, or process anything. This was all too much to process in a single night. You were a Princess, and not just any Princess, you had Elder Blood running through your veins.

Your baby —

You pressed your palm to your mouth, rather abruptly and stood up, dashing towards the exit of the tavern.

Geralt's head shot towards you like missile as he watched you leave.

You ran outside, Geralt's heavy footsteps racing behind you as you bent over in a corner and began throwing up.

Geralt's warm palm fixed on your lower back; and you felt him pull your hair away from your face, holding them up for you while his other hand ran soothing circles over your lower back.

You weakly stood up straighter, but your legs suddenly felt weak which is why you held on to the wall for support, as you wiped the corners of your mouth with your sleeve.

"Too much information for one night," You muttered in a low voice, your eyes not meeting Geralt's.

"Not the only one," Geralt responded, his lips twitching with humour, but that immediately washed away when you tried taking a step towards him but found yourself unable to hold yourself on your feet. He reached out, grabbing you by your shoulders to steady you to your feet.

Finally, letting out a soft exhale, the Witcher bent, and lifted you up in his arms, almost effortlessly, his hand holding you from the base of your thighs. Your hand wrapped around the Witcher's neck almost reflexively, as he held you against his chest and began walking back.

The first few minutes were quiet, until you finally spoke— your fingers unknowingly playing with the Witcher's hair.

"This complicates things."

He hummed in response but chose to stay quiet; so you continued.

"Where does this leave you, Geralt? Because I have .. already made up my mind."

A silence took over the two of you, causing you to flick your gaze to the side of his face. His lips were pursed together, as though he was thinking. You didn't stop toying with the strands of his hair, and neither did he stop you. Finally, he exhaled, and craned his neck slightly lower so he could look at you.

"And what did you decide?"

You bit the insides of your cheeks nervously. Geralt had been nice to you, until today, if you were to ignore the first few weeks you had known him. You had seen the change in the man; having grown from cold to lukewarm towards you, but that didn't mean you didn't know what Yennefer meant to him. Now, would Geralt really let you go? Especially.. if you were carrying his baby?

"I .. I want to go home.. to Cintra.. I want to see my mother, I want to.. see my kingdom, and I want to learn to harness .. my magic.." You whispered.

Geralt nodded, but he didn't reply.

He slowly let you down, and you looked up to realize that you had been so distracted talking to Geralt, you hadn't realized that you were standing on the bottom most step that led to the sorceress' mansion.

"I won't stop you."

You abruptly stopped walking when you heard those words, your legs almost freezing when you felt that he wasn't behind you anymore. You turned back around to find him standing on the bottom most step while you had already made your way to the door.

"Thank you, Geralt. For everything."

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imagine-that · 4 years

Text

Wonder

Warnings: a little angsty I guess? Kinda sad at some parts? Idk lol.

Pairing: (young) Sirius Black x reader

AN: this is my first song based imagine eeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppp!!! I listened to wonder a few hundred times already and this popped into my mind as I was listening for about the tenth time I believe and it just unravelled into this from there. I love the Marauders, I love Shawn and being able to mix the two makes me so damn happy.

AN 2: ALL LYRICS USED ARE FROM THE SONG WONDER BY SHAWN MENDES, I put the song right below so you can listen and maybe get a feel for my inspiration or for the imagine itself a little more. Hope you love it as much as I do 🥰❤️☺️

Grabbing one last carefully decided on sweater, you slip it into your trunk, carefully closing the lid over top.

As you struggle to push it down to shut properly, the Marauders come bounding into the room, laughter following their entrance, nearly scaring you out of your skin and making you fall back and the trunk to burst open much to your dismay.

“Boys! I almost had that shut.” You groan from the ground, sitting up to give them each a playful glare.

“Sorry y/n! Didn’t realize you would be in here I’m afraid. Are you alright? Not too beat up I hope?” Sirius says worriedly, reaching down towards you and offering you a hand to get up.

You giggle at his dramatics, taking his hand in your own and hoisting yourself off the ground.

Sirius, though a majorly known flirt with every girl at hogwarts, held a special place in your heart. You were best friends till the very end. Perhaps sometimes even closer than he and James were.

Little did you know, he felt the bond between you was more than just that.

I wonder if I'm being real

Do I speak my truth or do I filter how I feel?

“I’ll live though my clothes may not be there every step of the way.” You laugh, the melodic sound filling Sirius’ ears, much to his delight. You gesture to your wide open trunk, making the boys flash a look of mock guilt. All of them except for Sirius of course, who looks genuinely sorry.

“Sorry ‘bout that y/l/n. Mind if I help you?” He asks, an eager smirk on his face. You just laugh, nodding your head as he walks over to the trunk and pushes down the lid hard, a loud smacking sound ringing through the air.

“My hero!” You cry, running over and wrapping your arms around him tightly, catching him off guard.

He hugs back tightly, scared that if he let go you might disappear or something.

“It was nothing fair maiden.” He whispers teasingly, his breath warm by your ear and making you giggle softly, a smile creeping across his face as you do so.

You could vividly remember the first day you’d met the boys, they’d been teasing Sirius about his families beliefs and their tradition of getting Slytherin as a house, the most evil of them all according to them.

Horrified by what they were saying, you’d jumped to his rescue. You scolded the other three for their behaviour and Sirius had been more than amused by your performance. He was immediately taken by you, not that he’d ever tell you that.

I wonder, wouldn't it be nice

To live inside a world that isn't black and white?

Since that day, you and the group had been inseparable and you and Sirius were connected at the hip.

“You’re such a dork Sirius.” You giggle again, your forehead against his chest as you laugh.

He’s thankful for this, knowing you can’t see his reddened face. The other boys however, mock Sirius in his shockened state.

Anyone would be shocked at this sight. No one had ever seen Sirius Black so flustered. It was the strangest thing to see.

“Right back at you y/n/n.” He chuckles, regaining his composure before you can see his previous reaction.

“Hello? What’re we, snivellus snape?” James cry’s out, catching both of your attention as you turn your head, not quick enough to notice the scarlet faced Sirius beside you.

I wonder, what it's like to be my friends

Hope that they don't think I forget about them.

“You could’ve used a simple charm you know...” Remus mutters, earning a sharp look from Sirius and an elbow jab in the shoulder from James.

“Oi! You two! Picking on Remus won’t help you with anything, it’s just rude.” You mock lecture, pulling away from Sirius to pull the shorter and smarter boy in the group in for a hug himself, unknowingly making Sirius more jealous than ever before.

Remus felt a slight discomfort, knowing you were completely oblivious to the tension between the two at that very moment.

“So, packed up for the holidays already y/l/n? My parents won’t stop talking about how excited they are that your family is having dinner with us. I think they might like you more than they like me, their own bloody son!” James exclaims, looking as though the mere idea was completely crazy to him.

“Well Potter, I don’t get into nearly as much trouble as you so I wouldn’t blame them.” You tease, messing up his hair as you often did.

Your two families had been good friends for years and you’d known James since you were born. You’d grown apart over the years but after you both met Sirius the bond grew stronger than before.

Sirius’ eyes widen as he realizes that means spending time over the holidays with you, seeing as he was staying at the Potters this year as well. His parents were, as usual, furious at him for whatever reason.

The idea of being in close quarters with you during such an intimate time of year made the poor boys heart flutter inside his chest.

I wonder, I wonder...

——————————————————————

A few weeks later...

“James for god sake, stop hogging the every flavour beans!” You could hear Sirius cry out as you entered the Potter family home.

“Already fighting I see?” You ask with a playful grin. Sirius and James stop bickering, looking over to greet you only Sirius is at a loss for words.

You’d dressed as nicely as you could, but you’d still brought pants with you in case you needed them to run after the boys and their troublesome antics. However, you’d opted to wear a simple black skirt with a y/f/c top.

“Y/n, looking ugly as ever.” James teases. Just as you’re about to swat at his arm, his mother enters, looking furious.

“James Potter, did I just hear you say what I think I heard you say to sweet y/n?” She demands. James’ eyes go wide in fear as he gulps nervously.

“No I-.” He starts but his mother is already dragging him out of the room, scolding him for his lack of manners.

“Wouldn’t want to be him right now.” You chuckle, watching after the two.

“Yeah... he was only joking you know. I don’t think it’s even possible for you to look ugly y/n.” Sirius admits shyly.

You look at him with a coy smile and surprised y/e/c eyes, your face heating as it tinges pink.

Sirius tries to hold back a grin at the sight, never wanting to look at anything other than your face in that moment, knowing he’d more than likely have some sort of magnificent dream of it later that night, or at the very least have it running through his mind on a joyful loop as he tried to get some sleep.

Right before I close my eyes

The only thing that's on my mind.

“Of course not. It is James after all.” You agree, breaking the silence between you as you nervously run a hand up your arm.

“Yes of course.” He mutters before leaving the room.

The next few hours are spent in bliss, sharing stories between your two families and exchanging gifts and a delicious supper prepared by both of your mothers.

The minute dinner is over, you and the two boys race outside, quick to get away from the chance of chores.

“So Potter, any luck so far this year with Lily? Or are you still getting rejected every bloody time.” You ask with an eyebrow raised in amusement as you walk together.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I have you know she isn’t rejecting me. She’s simply having trouble making up her mind.” He sighs.

You snort at his argument, remaining unconvinced.

“Sure she is Potter.” You say sarcastically.

“Alright then y/l/n. This is only fair, so is there anyone you fancy yet?” He asks challengingly.

Sirius looks at you expectantly, waiting for the answer more eagerly than you could tell.

Been dreaming that you feel it too

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you, yeah

“No I don’t believe so.” You laugh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

Sirius’ face flashes with disappointment for a moment but it’s gone as soon as it has appeared, making you question if it had really been what you’d seen at all.

Shaking off the feeling of suspicion, you dare the boys to race with you down the hill you’d decided to sit on to take a breather. They both gladly take the challenge, practically crashing down the hill into each other.

As they reached the bottom, you continued your slow and relaxed pace, watching with a smile as they both stop to catch their breath desperately.

“We win... y/l/n.” James pants, trying to control his breathing.

“I’m well aware. I just wanted to watch the two of you nearly kill yourselves running.” You say, falling into a fit of giggles as the two chase you around the field.

You squeal excitedly as they catch up to you, both grabbing hold of you at the same time and pulling you back towards them as you kick and flail, failing to break free through your fit of laughter.

The two tickle you together, making you giggle even more, your rib cage aching from the feeling.

“S-stopppp! I get it!” You screech, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard.

The two move away, leaving you on the ground to recompose yourself. You take a few deep breaths, staring up at the sky as you calm down, blissfully watching the clouds.

James waggled his eyebrows at Sirius wordlessly, teasing him for the look of pure admiration he was fixing you with, though not to your knowledge.

I wonder what it's like

I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

After a while, the boys decide to join you, sprawling out on the ground on either side of you.

The three of you lay there for hours, watching the sky darken and chatting about everything you could think of. As you tease James about his crush on Lily Evans, he decides to work up the nerve to send her an owl.

Though you wanted to talk him out of it, you opted not to, too interested in what the outcome may be.

“He’s a real nutter thinking that pestering her will earn her affections.” You laugh to Sirius, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder.

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m not sure Evans will much appreciate his attempts.” He agrees.

The two of you once again sit in a comfortable silence, happy to be in each other’s company. A few moments later, Sirius notices your trembling figure, seeing your arms covered in goosebumps from the crisp early winter air.

He pulls away, making you glance over at him in question as he removes his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders to protect you from hypothermia.

“Thanks Siri.” You whisper as you return to your previous position, the nickname a habit at this point.

“Of course y/l/n. I’m nothing if not a gentleman.” He laughs, hoping you don’t notice his slight stutter of nerves. No matter how many times you would snuggle up to him late at night or even during the day when you were getting sleepier, he could never stop the way his heart skipped a beat when it happened.

He always worried he would say the wrong thing and reveal his feelings or make you question his intentions.

I wonder, why I'm so afraid

Of saying something wrong, I never said I was a saint.

You look over the skyline with a smile on your face, tugging his jacket closer to you blissfully.

“So why aren’t you with your family this year Siri? I mean, I know they’re not exactly the greatest of people but it is the holidays and I know you miss your little brother.” You question, leaning back to let your head rest on the grass.

He sighs, putting his arms behind his head as he lays down next to you.

“They aren’t my family, haven’t you heard? I’m a Potter through and through!” He jokes bitterly and you frown over at him placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it in circles soothingly.

“I know you are. But you’re also a black. You’re brother needs you sometimes too, he’s just too much of a stubborn bloke to admit it.” You murmur, rolling over onto your side so you’re able to face him.

He groans, looking up at the sky and avoiding your gaze as he runs his hand through his hair.

“I bloody well know that y/n. But my mother all but disinvited me to holidays at home anyway so what was I supposed to do.” He mutters, sitting up with his face buried in his hands.

You look at him in surprise, never having seen much of this side of him. You saw the teasing side, the playful and friendly side and the flirty side. You’d only ever seen the deeper, darker side of Sirius once in your life and it hurt like hell watching him torment himself with his own thoughts this way.

“Your mother is a bloody wench.” You growl, picking at pieces of grass with a scowl.

He chuckles bitterly, pushing his hair back with one swoop of his hand.

“Tell me about it, she sent me a letter, practically a howler actually, just to tell me I’m basically the biggest disgrace our family’s ever seen and that I’m basically not a real black.” He whispers.

Just as you go to speak, you’re interrupted by his sniffles. You glance over to see him fighting back tears, practically ready to start bawling right there.

“Hey, Siri. It’s ok to cry you know.” You promise, pulling him into a tight hug. He gets a whiff of your perfume and feels immediately more comforted and loved than he ever had with anyone else, even the boys.

“I don’t know why I’m even crying. It’s not as though I even wanted to be there that badly. I’m being too sensitive.” He musters, his shoulders coming to a slow but sure halt to their shaking.

“You are not. You have every reason to be emotional Sirius. It’s not a bad thing.” You promise, running your fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

He glances at you doubtfully, not totally sure whether you were right or not.

I wonder, when I cry into my hands

I'm conditioned to feel like it makes me less of a man.

“I won’t tell anyone.” You promise quietly, smiling sadly over at his tear streaked face.

He stays quiet, staring out at the falling snow wordlessly, not wanting to further embarrass himself in front of you.

“Are you ok Sirius?” You ask worriedly, scared to have not heard so much as a peep out of the usual smart talkers mouth.

He blinks back more tears, wiping his face a bit and giving you a weak smile.

“Never better. No ones ever really wanted me anyways, at least it’s a fact now.” He jokes, clearly trying to make you think he’s feeling better.

He goes to get up and away from you, not wanting you to see him lose control of his emotions again but the gentle feeling of your fingers brushing against his arm makes him stop, looking at you in curiosity, his breathing finally fully tranquil.

“What y/n?” He asks tiredly, running a hand through his hair yet again. For as long as you’d known him, that’d been his biggest tell to when he was upset.

“I want you.” You say softly, meeting his eyes shyly, your hand overtop of his. “And the potters want you. Remus and Peter do too.” You add shakily, your face blushing furiously, looking lighter thanks to the moonlight.

His heart warms at the tone in your voice, the way your voice softens so slightly. He didn’t know why you sounded so innocent, you never did usually but there was something different in the way you were speaking to him. It felt different to Sirius, but it was a good kind of different. It almost made him forget about all his troubles, the way you often did.

“And whoever you even start to think doesn’t is wrong. Like, incredibly, madly wrong.” You continue, making him laugh slightly and bringing a small smile to your lips. “Your family is wrong about you Sirius. Someday, even they’ll see that.” You promise, moving over and enveloping him in another hug.

And I wonder if some day you'll be by my side

And tell me that the world will end up alright.

As the two of you pull out of the hug and away from each other’s embrace, you immediately feel a lack of warmth, not just outside but in your heart. You miss holding him, and vice versa. But neither of you dares to vocalize your realizations.

Instead, you sit, staring up at the stars and grinning at each other.

Though Sirius still felt the pain of his family’s words inside, his overwhelming sense of comfort and admiration with you was overpowering the negative, making his smile bright and genuine.

“I’m sure James is having a good time with that letter.” He jokes, making you giggle warmly.

“Yes, I’m sure he finished it forever ago.” You pipe in, both of you falling into a small heap of laughter.

He stands, bending down slightly to reach for your hand, pulling you up off the ground.

Not expecting the amount of force he’d decided to use, you fall forward as you reach your feet, practically flying into Sirius’ arms. He holds them out just in the nick of time, catching you right as you land smack dab against his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso on instinct.

“You alright there y/l/n?” He asks, obviously flustered by the sudden proximity between the two of you.

“Y-Yeah.” You stutter, your face going a bright beet red.

He looks down at you for a second, your eyes meeting as he quietly moves his hand and gingerly moves strands of hair off of your face, pushing them delicately behind your ear.

To both your silent delight, your eyes never leave each other’s. Suddenly, the gap between your bodies is shutting until finally, your lips have made their way to being a mere inch from his own.

I wonder, I wonder...

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hanadoesstuffbadly · 3 years

Text

Daughter of Giants

"You should move along, Giant, we don't want your sort around here." The bartender's voice was low and authoritative, the voice of a man not easily ignored, but one didn't need the ears of a bat to make out the tremors coursing through it. Everything about him was a well made manor with good foundations, but Aravis could tell it was built on sand. Give him a little shake and everything would start slipping.

Aravis smirked and tapped her fingers idly against the bar's puckered wooden surface. A part of her cursed how ineffective her disguise had been proving recently, even after she's taken to covering her folc markings. The last thing she needed now was to have word of a nomadic folcwoman travelling the Engle Lands like a sad silk trader. Her tankard's rim just brushed her lips as she held it there and she concentrated on the fact that the man had not moved along, still standing just out of sight behind her mustard coloured hood. If he just needed a shake, why was she feeling inclined to rattle him until the very bricks of his character were dust to be scraped off of her heel. Maybe she was too tired for this today, too done with walkers and their sloppy, indelicate ineptitude. But at the same time, her ichor was roaring through her veins, violet and rushing. It made her lungs burn like magma beneath the island's crust. Her titanic heart yearned for a fight. It had been too long.

"My sort?" Silk dropped into her tone inadvertently, turning her deep, hoarse, broken voice into an almost mechanical purr. Fear rippled through the room like ribbons. It was a cool breeze in a suffocating glare of self-importance and Aravis breathed it in.

"You're a bounty-hunter!" Not the bartender, but a nasal, underdeveloped voice called from the crowd of patrons that had interrupted their own meals to gawk like a gaggle around what had been a peaceful evening drink. Aravis didn't bother seeking out the speaker (though she suspected one of the pasty, mealy shepherds seated closer to the entrance. An easy escape, she mused, smart choice.) Her brow, however, creased at his choice of words. Bounty hunters were perhaps the lowest of the low creatures grovelling on the earth's filthy surface. Turning in fellows of your kind for the reward of others? Had they no sense of honour or kinship at all. Had a folcman or woman acted in such a way, they would be plunged beneath the clouds to the endless oceans below and ripped to shreds by the wild, Bacchic merpeople of the depths. Honour, trust, loyalty; mere dramatic concepts to be learned and forgotten by those thugs like poor poetry.

"Now what would give you that idea?" Likely her stature or lack of ladylike grace. Maybe-

"The ends of your hair. They're white." The thought died before it even took shape in her mind. A chill crawled up around her shoulders, turning the thick muscle there into cold stone. She was frozen in place, barely able to open her mouth to reply through gritted teeth, her head bowed lower toward the counter and her tankard rested against her suddenly ringing forehead.

"Why," she ground out, "would that," turning slowly like a tin doll, her eyes flashed, "mark me out?" Moonlight flashed against a bronze knife behind the bar and it set the room aflame. The man- boy really- stood and quaked like a tethered kite before the entrance like it was a headwind. He had a round, dark, unfinished face; the face of a scholar or bard, not a warrior. Nevertheless, Aravis wanted nothing more than to turn it blue with bruises.

"I've heard stories," He shuddered and searched any face but hers for help "my father's a pepper merchant, he told me about you and your kind." The idea of some miserable, slimy, slithering underwalker's tongue speaking of her ‘kind’ made Aravis' fists curl. "Your hair is dark and- and blue, right?" He was slipping, but didn't run. Yet. "He used to say, when- when what was inside your head became darker, your hair literally started paling in comparison... Making the tips turn white... And- I-I thought..."

"Tom Tom, that's enough." Hissed the bartender.

Aravis was very still. Whispers are meant to be lost in the chaos. Aravis’ words were like breaths, yet each one rang in the floorboards and out of the door like the echoes of screams.

"Your father is well-learned. Darkness seeping into every crevice of the mind, turning you into a miasma veiled in flesh? What better fits that description than a callous, underhanded criminal? What could be so dark, so evil, as to turn the tips of my hair so pale?"

With one hand she tore the hood from her head. And not a breath was drawn as their pathetic faces took in the blank, dull cascades, the colour of new snow. Cold and dead. White to the roots.

She closed her eyes when the whispers started seeping into their fear, and as always, before her there stretched a great gash in the clouds on which she, still an adolescent wrapped in sunlight, stood. Beneath that crevice she saw the island of the underwalkers. But she wasn't looking at them. Instead, all that filled her vision was the great, massive warrior lying like unwanted venison beside the hulking, grotesque, monstrous corpse of a Beanstalk. And the underwalkers were dancing. At their head, leading them on there stood a creature of pale flesh and golden hair. To others he might have looked like a child, beautiful and beaming. Aravis knew what he really was. The axe was still in his hands. That smiling, glittering face was the last thing she saw before the vision cleared and Aravis opened her eyes to the bar counter.

Shards of metal and broken wood lay before her. Her hand was bloodied by purple ichor. Still lodged within the cut were some remains of the crushed tankard. But it was her eyes that were burning with pain.

The whispers had ceased. And so had the roar in her veins. She was ice.

Standing, she swept her cloak aside to rest both hands on her hips, her feet apart. She was taller now than she had been when she entered, and now the crest of her ringed headband just skimmed the ceiling. Everybody in the room cowered below her. It felt right.

"Indeed. I am a hunter. But what I'm after is not the reward of a slippery, stupid nobleman. It is justice. And it is mine alone." the low rasp of her voice grew full and round as pride swelled within, "as a daughter of the mighty Laestrygonians."

At the name of her folc, new horror trickled into slow running red blood all around her. So many eyes darted to the door, for escape. Many more became fixed on her lips or, more specifically, on the teeth that lay behind them. Aravis didn’t need to be a mind mage to know they were wondering how much mortal flesh had been shredded upon them. That stout bartender was the first to finish quivering.

"Who do you seek, great Giantess? I will tell you all that I know, just don't hurt any of my customers, I beg of you!" Ugh. Begging. Typical underwalkers.

"I'm hunt Prince Jack of Gaul. As I have for almost ten years." Voice rising such that everyone might hear, she let fear carry her words. "He has taken something very precious from me, many things in fact, and I intend to exact justice."

“But, he’s been missing over three years! Many young princes have been.” Aravis was well aware of that. So close. She had been so close she could see the ridiculous peak of his hair, illuminated under dragon fire. But the presence of one of the more powerful fae had forced to keep her distance. But she had him cornered. It was almost over. And then he was gone.

“Haven’t you heard? They’re back, now.” Every head turned back to the scholarly boy by the entrance. “Yeah, the entire Fearless-”

But Aravis was deaf to the world.

They’re back now. He’s back now. He’s back. Again, and again, and again. The sound of clouds being split down the middle and the shining eyes of the blonde, beautiful murderer. And dancing. Aravis’ eyes were filled with axes, ichor and dancing.

Her bident spear was in her hand one moment and whistling across the room the next. The boy- Tom Tom he’d been called- was pinned between its prongs like a fish, flailing and panicked. He grasped at the twin spikes which were twice as thick as his arm. As Aravis strode over, he just resisted going limp.

With her feelings crashing and shrieking in her head, Aravis paid no attention to the fact that the ceiling had splintered around it. She didn’t notice the splinters to timber that clawed at her waist, nor the frigid night air whipping her face as she waded through the bar like mud. People the size of dolls scurried for the exit, while the one she wanted remained pinned. Until she knelt down and gripped the long handle of her weapon, pushing it closer into his throat.

“Where?” Was all she managed. Everything inside was a storm that even she herself was becoming lost in.

“I- I don’t know! I was told by a friend!”

“WHERE?!” Her bellow ricocheted off the dark sky itself like thunder and the bident spear-head pressed harder against his trachea until he gasped for air.

“STONEBURY!” Violent sobs wracked his body but Aravis did not relent, “GLASS STONEBURY! MY FRIEND HORNER IS IN GLASS STONEBURY! HE CAN TELL YOU!”

Only then, with a grunt of dark satisfaction did she pull the spear from the wall, releasing him. With the first real, tangible feeling she had felt in years melting into her veins, she shrank back down until she was practically the same stature she had been when she had arrived. The bar’s roof was gone, allowing freezing wind to howl through. She cared not.

Aravis finished a drink that had been abandoned on a table in the panic. It was revolting, crude stuff, typical for underwalkers. But a smile was curled on her face regardless.

"What will you do once you find the prince? He's a hero, and has many powerful friends!" So the bartender had stayed, she hadn’t counted on that. She graciously turned to look at him, feeling lighter than she had in almost four years.

"Simple. I will rend his arms from his sides. I will cast his broken body across the air until each and every bone is ground into dust."

"They'll see you coming, people have already run to tell others of you."

"You speak as if I’d intended this to be a slaughter. You are wrong.” Aravis’ hood fell to the floor and her hand reached into her satchel. She sighed softly when her fingers met the gentle, rippling fabric of her cloak. Her mother’s cloak. “It’s an execution.” she pulled it free, letting it grow in size until it could wrap around her completely. Her legs and torso disappeared from sight. “And I must have him know his sentence.”

Turning, she vanished behind the concealment of the cloak and into the darkness of the night. The Engle Lands were solitary, located deep in the marshes of Fairytale Island.

It wasn’t far to Glass Stonebury. And then all that was left was to find this Horner.

Just an intro that I couldn't get out of my head since creating Aravis (her name was Astrid originally). I kinda want to write a whole fic about this but I'm not sure since it would be pretty much all my ocs... I'm imagining basically zootopia but with a Giant princess and a bounty hunter.

Also ive already started about two big projects with no third chapter soooo.....

#beginning of something??#maybe #red shoes and the 7 dwarfs #red shoes and the seven dwarfs #red shoes movie #red shoes fanfic #hana writing #my ocs #standing on the shoulders of giants #SotSoG #red shoes fanfiction #horner appears in my gwen fic red cloak #the third chapter of that is in the works #schools just been pummeling recently #laestrygonians are the cannibal giants featured in the odyssey #they pretty kuch hav a culture that's 2/3 celtic 1/3 ancient greek #aravis #red shoes oc #giant oc

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80s-roger · 4 years

Text

Not On My Watch (pt 7)

Pairing: Dad!Roger x Mum!Reader

summary: you’re divorced with queen’s roger taylor due to constant cheating and irrational behaviour towards you. but u have one person in common: your daughter, Laura aka your favourite human on earth. Your marriage with roger had its ups and downs but laura was the happiness in it. Now that she’s 8 and starts to realise how your terms with roger are, you finally tell her that you’re seeing another man except her father and she took it really warmly. She seemed excited to meet the new man unlikely your ex husband who accidentally learns about it by Laura, the weekend you would leave her at his place: on weekends you had some cute getaways with R/N because the court decided that Laura could stay or visit her dad on weekends and stay with him for five days each Christmas and easter vacations. On summers he has the right to be with her for two weeks.

catch up: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

masterlist //dialogue prompts

taglist: @madeinheavxn @namelesslosers @stacymaytaylor @drwse @cherries-n-rocknroll

words: 3,336

warnings: some tense in the middle hehe and woman talk.

It was around seven in the morning. Your head was dizzying and took you ages to get out of bed after blaming the wine for the headache you're feeling now. Roger was a sleepy angel with his blonde messy hair and his back covering his bedside. You had to fix and prepare yourself for work. It's nice going to work from Tuesday to Friday but the work you put in within these eight hours as an accountant in the bank, is exhausting.

"Roger, I have to go..." you knell next to him, softly playing with his hair. His face was turned against yours, you could see him sleeping deeply. What a cutie he was.

"Mmm?" He asked on his sleep, without being aware of what you said.

"Babe?" You kissed his forehead. You haven't done that for ages. Your relationship starts involving again. After the short name you called him, he opened his eyes and seemed kinda lost.

"Wh- where are you going?" He asked again after stretching himself.

"I have to go to work..." you explained.

"I can drive you off." He offered himself.

"No, the public should not see us together, you know, the paps." You narrowed your brows. They always annoyed you.

"Yeah, that's right... I'll have to go to work in a couple of hours too. I'll call you from there. I think I have your office's phone number," he scratched his head and looked at you focused.

"I think you do, yeah. We'll see each other later?" You asked, wishing to be true.

"What a stupid question, of course." He smiled and came closer to you for a kiss. "Laura will be here when you arrive." He slightly squeezed your cheek.

"Nice." you stood on your feet again and attempted to walk away but his hand stopped you.

"Last night was amazing. So refreshing for us, right?" He stated, waiting for your approval.

"Couldn't agree more." You laughed.

"You look so freshly fucked by me, I can see that." He joked and a giggle escaped your mouth.

"Is that visible?" You asked, checking yourself at the mirror.

"Yes, you're happy." He wasnt laughing anymore, he was serious about it and with that, you turned to him smiling. It's true, you were feeling happy. You were happy everytime he gave you pleasure. You give him soul and body, he gives you pleasure and happiness after it. You wanted to feel like that. You needed it by him. You didn't say a word. Just a simple smile to him and it made his day and yours too.

Your work to bank was going to be productive but an unpleasant surprise sooner or later would ruin it all.

At your launch time, you walked with your colleague, Mary, at the bank's restroom, where you can calmly drink some coffee and chat.

"I tried to reach you last night but you wouldn't pick up." Mary started and sipped a little of her coffee. "I was thinking you'd come over at my place to drink some wine and listen to jazz." She added.

"I wasn't home actually and I don't think I'll be again." You nodded your head in refusal while the little spoon you used to mix sugar with coffee was thrown at the sink.

"Wait, you're moving out?" She asked confused.

"Basically I'm moving back to Roger's house. I was living there before the divorce." You answered.

"Holy s-" she was a little louder than she wanted to be but she already covered her mouth with her hand. You made her the shush gesture with your finger. "Holy shit!" She whispered close to you fully excited. "So you two are..." she winked.

"Yes, I think so." You smiled.

"I'm so happy about it, I mean you look happy too, I haven't seen you like this since..." she stopped. "Wait, I haven't seen you like that." She came a little closer to your face trying to check your eyes. "What happened last night, naughty girl?" She winked again and teased your arm. She was open about her relationships to you and so were you to her. She's probably the closest friend you have.

"Mary, that's personal!" You laughed trying to hide your excitement.

"It wasn't so personal to you telling me about R/N's poor sexual skills." She sarcastically raised her brow.

"Yes because he lacked on that, I wouldn't come if I didn't masturbate after-party, y' know?" You hinted and she totally understood. "I wanted to share this problem with you."

"Too pity, he only likes flexing around his cars but on sex, poor guy..." she started. "But you know, I never liked this man. How come you, Roger Taylor's ex-wife and current girlfriend date a man like R/N?" She reminded your standards and she was right. It was all about your image and your dignity.

"I guess I was too hurt by Roger, I couldn't see clearly. I always loved him." You stared at the floor and sipped from your cup.

"And you're back again which is perfect than before. I'm sure Laura will be happier." She smiled.

"She already is." You nodded and smiled back.

"Hey ladies, you have some work to do out there, what's taking you so long?" A colleague of yours, came in the room demanding you to get back to work.

"Sure, we're going back, sorry for that." Mary took the lead and left the room, now both of you went back at your posts.

At the studio

Roger was on studio with Brian and John, fixing their instruments before starting recording. Freddie was yet to be seen so John asked, knowing what was happening. "Everything alright?"

Roger finished fixing his drum kit and turned to John's side, "If you're talking about last night, you better be sure about it. What about Laura?" Roger asked.

"Vera drove them off to school earlier, she said she will pick them up. She'll be in our place." John replied.

"Oh nice then, sure, I'll pick her up, I'm thinking of a fancy dinner with Y/N and Laura at some restaurant." Roger was arranging a dinner with his beloved family, thinking something big.

"Oh, I'm curious to find out!" John smiled.

"Rog," Brian took part in the conversation, coming closer to his bandmates. "You should book a table if you're going to do what I'm thinking." He pressed his hand on Roger's shoulder.

"What do you think I'm going to do?" Roger asked confused.

"Sweet lord," John gasped. "Wait, you're not going to propose her again, right?"

"Why not?" Roger asked in disbelief.

"Roger, it didn't work all this time. Just because you spent two days together doesn't mean you'll be like that again." Brian was negative about Roger's thought.

"And why not? I changed my mind, I was immature, I know. But now I'm different." He tried to defend himself.

"Roger, she might feel pressed if you propose her again." John was trying to explain.

"No she won't, she won't see R/N again, I know it. She ran to me the moment he raised a hand on her." Roger protested.

"He what?" John was shocked. "Y/N would never let a man hit her, what are you talking about?" John couldn't believe his ears.

"Her cheeks were burning when she ran to me and-" Roger was feeling tense.

"Roger, you won't let him get away with it, will you?" Brian crossed his arms.

"What can I do? I am not the one who was assaulted." Roger loudly said, feeling ready to explode.

"Who was assaulted?" Freddie's voice echoed in the studio and his bandmates' gave him a death stare. "What? I'm not late." He arrogantly raised his brow and smoked a bit of his cigarette.

"We were having a conversation about Roger and Y/N." Brian made a briefing of the situation.

"Oh, I'm all ears, did you have sex?" He winked to Roger.

"Yes we did, but that's not the thing." He shook his head in total confusion.

"Alright, alright, what's the matter? I heard about someone getting assaulted?" Freddie asked concerned.

"Yes, Y/N was. He spied on her on Sunday night because she didn't want him to stay there." Roger started.

"Oh, you drove Laura off that night, didn't you? At her flat." Freddie asked, recalling the facts cause he was there that afternoon, at Roger's house.

"Correct. So, Laura kind of wanted me to stay and Y/N made her the favour, but I prepared our ground, I fixed a drink she was relaxed and we ended up making love." Roger felt like missing you right now.

"Oh, that's, that's good!" Brian commented.

"Yes, it is. And what happened next?" John asked, trying to learn all the details. They all wanted actually.

"Well yeah, the next day things were a little awkward between us but in the end it wasn't anymore. That asshole, went at her home, raised a hand on her and my girl ran to my place." Roger said.

"Who the fuck does he think he is?" Freddie gasped. He was nuts.

"She obviously ran to her shelter." John made a romantic comment

"She won't leave it unpunished, will she?" Freddie asked.

"I don't know." Roger thoughtfully said.

"Well, fucking call her," Freddie yelled.

"Stop yelling at me, okay? I'll do it." Roger yelled back and Brian with John shared a laugh.

Roger grabbed the phone and dialled your office's phone number. He was impatient to call you, but at least he had a reason to do it. You picked up from the other side, too busy from your work. "Hello?"

"Y/N?" Roger's voice was unsure and unsteady. He barely spoke to you on the phone. He would call at his early days while on tour.

"Roger? Hi!" You smiled after recognizing his voice. "Are you at the studio?" You stopped archiving loan papers and focused on him.

"Yes, Freddie just arrived." He tried to remain calm.

"Oh, tell the boys I said hi." You giggled.

"Of course." Roger cleared his voice before getting to the topic. "So um, about yesterday, when R/N appeared at your flat, will you sue him or something?" He asked fully concerned about your safety.

"How come asking me this?" You asked confused.

"I was talking to the boys about it, I needed some advice. Will you sue him?" He asked.

"I don't know, Roger. I don't think he'll appear again. Not after what happened. I guess he knows we are starting over." You explained.

"But what if he appears?" He asked.

"Don't panic me, please. I don't want to work in fear." Now that Roger gave you a reason to be scared, it wouldn't leave your mind that R/N would come again to hurt you. He has shown some red flag signs at the time but you never really paid attention because they weren't a big deal.

"I just care about you, y/n. I want to feel sure that you're not getting hurt or approached by him." His voice lowered but his head was thinking many things.

"Nothing to worry about. I'm happy that you called." You changed the subject trying to talk about something else.

"Um, y/n?" He asked while playing with phone's wire.

"Yeah?" You playfully asked while opening clients' folders to verify their deposits.

"I was thinking if you'd like us to go for dinner tonight, as a family." He finally said kicking out his stress.

"That would be great!" Your eyes got wide opened. You liked the idea.

"Perfect. We'll talk about the details when we get home. I mean, at my place." He clarified.

"Sure. Do you think I should move out?" You asked.

"Yes, come where you were staying first. At my house. I'll help you with that." He offered his help which you couldn't deny.

"Nice then." You said. "Y/n, can you sign these client's papers, please?" A female voice was heard from the back.

"Should I hang up?" Roger asked.

"Yes, we'll talk later! Bye!" You were rushing to hang up.

"Love y-" you hung up and left Roger wondering if you heard his last words. "You." He ended it, being sure now that you didn't hear that. "How did it go?" Roger asked Fred.

"Better than I thought." Freddie giggled.

---------

Recordings today, finished earlier than expected, Queen brainstormed more than usual, making some good progress. They were free to go.

"Should we go to the pub downtown?" Brian asked.

"Sure, I haven't planned anything," Freddie answered and John nodded.

"Roger?" Brian turned to the drummer.

"Go and I'll catch up with you." He smiled and they all left the studio.

Roger was on his way to the bank you work. He parked at the opposite corner waiting for you to finish your work. He wanted you to join him and the rest members at the pub, like the old times. But an unpleasant surprise gave him all the negative vibes he had gathered for a long time. It was R/N who was suspiciously walking towards the bank. Roger knew something was wrong. He carefully checked the road before crossing it.

You were ready to leave, said bye to your colleagues and at the entrance door, the man you used to date for a short period of time stood at your sight.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" You asked trying to remain calm.

"What do you mean what am I doing here?" He let out an evil smile. "I'm here to pay my fucking bills." He was ironic. He didn't mean it literally.

"We're over, R/N. Deal with it." You had to remain quiet and calm. You work there. Gazes started to turn to you two, making you feel embarrassed. You attempted to walk away but his hand stopped you. He was holding a newspaper photo; probably from The Sun, it was Roger and you in it. Oh shit, here we go again you thought. The press smelled gossip.

"You ran to your rock star husband? Wasn't I enough?" He shouted pointing out the photo. It was you and Roger five years ago, exiting a club in the city, but the title caught your attention: Roger Taylor and y/n y/f/n spotted together after divorce!

"Stop shouting, I work here!" You warned him to stay quiet but he wouldn't. He was risking your job permanent position.

"You don't need to work when your rich husband can give you a luxurious life!" He mocked you and now he pointed to Roger, ready to read the article out loud. "Queen's drummer Roger Taylor was recently reported sharing a not-only-steamy kiss with his ex-wife but a steamy night at his place in West London" Clients and colleagues turned around and saw you standing there fully ashamed and embarrassed. Of course, they knew who you were married to. You really wanted to die. You couldn't handle the situation. "You want me to continue?" He asked with a smile on his face.

"Fuck off." You whispered close to his face and he seemed to enjoy it.

"I think I'm the one who should have said this." He raised his brow. This man is a pure toxic thing. "You take cocks like they're dinner or something, is that your talent?" His voice was louder than expected and all you could do was slap him. That sound was probably heard to the restroom inside. He was pushing the limits and your boss came out of his office, staring at you shocked.

"Mrs Taylor I think you should discuss your personal issues somewhere more private, don't you think?" His voice was strict and you thought that being fired is the most possible scenario.

"Yes, of course, have a nice evening." You tried to walk fastly out of the bank but a gentle hand stopped you. You looked who it was and it was Roger.

"She's not Mrs Taylor. Not yet." Roger defended your place, with R/N, your boss, your colleagues and the clients standing there with their mouths wide open. "Boss, how on earth do you let your employees be disrespected like that?" Roger came closer to him but you tried to stop him. "That asshole right there disrespected your employee and you did nothing!"

"Roger, please stop, I'll lose my job, fucking stop!" You tried to pull him back but he wouldn't do it. "Stop!" You yelled and then he stopped and looked at you.

"I'm trying to defend you." He whispered at your face, he noticed how upset you looked.

"Please. Everyone's looking at us. Let's get out of here." Your eyes begged him to leave as soon as possible.

"And what about this asshole?" Roger pointed out R/N.

"He can't do anything, let's go, please." You wrapped your hands around his arms, not letting go. You walked out of the bank and the man followed you. Oh, shit.

You were walking towards your cars, but R/N wouldn't leave like that, without provoking Roger. He would lose temper in any second.

"According to the musician's neighbours, the previous night was like some Queen concert. Really loud." He was reading out loud the article and Roger looked at him with his one and only death stare.

"Roger please, let's go, don't give him the satisfaction, he's trying to make you lose temper! Don't hit him!" You stopped him. Now people from the bank and pedestrians would whether at Roger and you or R/N.

"What would y/n 's y/f/n current partner say about today's hot issue? Can't wait to see more! This couple is so promising. Whether married or not, they never fail to excite us!" He laughed after reading the article. "They paid me thousands for this article. What do you think?" He asked.

"What?" You asked shocked.

"I'm a journalist, you knew that. But I'm also a jealous and a possessive mate, I don't like my partners to fuck around." He came closer to you. He was threatening. Roger would kill him at any second.

"But you hit me. You weren't violent, you despised that." You answered.

"I surely despise violence. But violence brings violence. You betrayed my trust." He yelled.

"That wasn't a reason to hit her!" Roger yelled back.

Paps noticed the drama and clicks were already heard. You were about to be on headlines tomorrow morning.

"But you fucked her! Aren't your groupies enough?" R/N shouted.

"Shut the fuck up! They're taking photos of us and they'll have us on headlines tomorrow, I don't want that!" You pushed him but he wasn't playing.

He was about to push you back but Roger protected you, standing in front of you and getting on hands with R/N.

Three policemen noticed the tense and ran through your place. "What's going on here?" One of them asked.

"He's a random man saying weird things, he won't let us leave!" Roger lied.

"He fucks my wife!" R/n lied back.

"What the hell, you're not my husband!" Your life was such a drama right now, you wanted to go home and hide under your pillows.

"Enough sir, we'll have to keep you at the police station today. You caused enough trouble today. Let the celebrity man with his wife go to the court." The policeman was aware of yours and Roger's status. Roger's fame probably saved your asses for now; Not including your boss firing you the next day, though.

"Um, are you alright?" You asked while hugging Roger.

"Yes. You?" He pulled away to check on you.

"Kinda..." you were feeling upset. You just had to play it cool.

"Listen, the boys are waiting for us at the pub we met, mind joining us?" He whispered at your ear, not wanting the paps to hear you.

"I think I'll need a drink to calm down." You nodded.

"Alright, get on your car and follow me, we'll have to get rid of everyone. They'll follow us." He kissed your lips and that was the second the clicks were heard the most.

Roger smiled at the cameras, acting as if nothing happened and finally drove off.

#roger taylor #john deacon #brian may #queen #roger taylor x female reader #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor x y/n #freddie mercury #queen band #queen fic

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smileyoongle · 5 years

Text

MASTERPIECE (A Yandere Park Jimin AU)

Summary: You thought it was just a painting until you bought it. You thought the man in the frame was beautiful until you saw him. You thought it was a masterpiece until you were ruined.

Pairing: Yandere! Jimin×Reader, Taehyung×Reader

Warnings: Contains mentions of smut, deaths, blood, obsessive behaviour and mental health issues. Please read at your own risk.

Heavy pants filled the room as two bodies lay side by side, tangled with each other and smiling at the intimacy they had shared just minutes ago. The lights in the lavish bedroom were dim as rain pattered against the windows, the water drops glistening in the light that came from inside the room.

"How's your merger coming up?"

Taehyung turned his head to face you, admiring the soft features of your face that captured his heart every time he saw them. He shuffled in the sheets, propping himself up on his elbow, his palm pressed against his cheek. With his other hand, he brushed your hair away from your face, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"Well... it's exhausting. Steve is a dick. And I'm not sure how long I'll be able to tolerate him."

You hummed, placing a hand on Taehyung's cheek and softly caressing it as he leaned down to kiss you. Your lips always tasted sweet, a hint of your favourite wine leaving a mellow taste on Taehyung's tongue. Taehyung hated wines but he wasn't sure anymore after having kissed you a thousand times.

With a final peck, he got off the bed, grabbing his jeans and pulling them up his legs. You rolled over in bed, resting your chin on the back of your hands as your eyes raked over his body. Every inch of his skin was inviting and his face didn't help your case either. He was just so ethereal. So godlike.

"And here I was, thinking you'd stay for round two." You teased, twirling your hair between your fingers and biting your lips. You knew it was his weakness, he'd come right back to you whenever you did that.

Taehyung buttoned his jeans and turned to you, only to have his breath hitch. He could already feel his jeans tighten, the fact that he was already turned on growing evident with every passing second.

His eyes roamed over your body. He noticed that you had purposely shifted the sheets off your body so that he could see your exposed skin. The curve of your breasts, the smooth skin of your thighs with bruises littered on it and the marks on your neck were all calling him to devour you again.

With a shaky breath, Taehyung closed his eyes, trying to divert his mind away from your tactics.

"I have work tomorrow morning, you know that. And the fact that you live outside the city doesn't help at all." He voiced, putting on his shirt. You rolled your eyes and stood up, leaving the black cloth that was initially hiding your body from him. You had never been shy, not with your body. And especially with Taehyung, there was absolutely no need for you to hide anything. He was a friend. A friend who you called when you wanted to...well…friends with benefits would be the correct way to define your relationship.

You slipped your hands around his waist, kissing the back of his neck as he shuddered beneath your fingers. "Y/N…" he warned, holding your hand in his and pulling you in front of him. The sight of your body made his mouth water. He had to remind himself that he had a very important meeting to attend and staying was not an option. He was the CEO of a big company, afterall.

Placing his hands on either side of your cheeks, he kissed your forehead.

"Get some sleep. Your paintings can wait for you and don't drink too much. Or I'll have to ban the winery from sending you any more bottles, got it?"

You lazily nodded your head with a mocking smile, knowing very well that Taehyung was just wasting his breath.

He shook his head in response, also aware that you weren't gonna listen to him anyway. He kissed your smiling lips before heading out, leaving you alone in your big old mansion-like house.

You watched him run to his car as he tried to cover his head with his hands, his white shirt already showing traces of his skin. The rain was heavy and it didn't look like it was gonna stop anytime soon.

Running your hands through your hair, you trudged towards the bathroom for a hot shower.

You had known Taehyung for 10 years now. You had met him during high school and he had stood by you through thick and thin. The sexual tension between the two of you became harder to hide when you two graduated and one thing led to another. Before you knew it, you were already having a very unhealthy relationship with a guy who was supposed to be your best friend. It didn't have to be unhealthy but it was.

Blame it on Taehyung's inability to hide his affectionate feelings towards you. But it was unhealthy. At least for you.

In an hour, you were sitting in your art room, which you had lovingly named 'Creative Arena' due to it's huge space. All kinds of paintings and sculptures covered it's wooden floors. But that was also the case with your entire house. Taehyung always joked about your house being a museum and how you should start holding exhibitions there.

Too bad. This was your personal haven.

Every painting spoke to you. Every sculpture held emotions that you desperately wanted to read. You loved being an art collector. You loved yourself.

Sipping your Pinot Noir, you placed the wine glass on the small coffee table before picking up your paint brush. You hummed in delight, knowing exactly what your next painting was gonna be. You drowned in the colours and forgot about the entire world until the sun rose and your eyes closed.

________________________________

You stared out at the darkness, leaning your head against the car window and relishing in the soft purr of the engine along with the rain. It ended up being a long exhibition, although according to you, there wasn't anything worth looking at. If it was up to you, you would have made sure that Mrs Marlowe never ever painted again. It annoyed you to listen to her rambling about how her art can help the world.

That woman didn't even know what primer she used.

A loud ringing echoed through the car as you glanced at your phone, Taehyung's boxy smile lighting up your screen. You swipe your finger across the screen to accept the call, your eyes closing as you placed the phone next to your ear.

"Hey." His deep voice filled your ears, your heart beating rhythmically as you found yourself relaxing. That was Taehyung for you. He was your salvation. He kept you from drowning away from reality.

"Hi. How was work?" You asked casually, glancing outside at the wet roads.

"Tiring as always. I attended three meetings nonstop. How about you? Marlowe, wasn't it? Was she good?"

You smiled smugly at his 'I-know-everything' tone. He always kept tabs on you.

"Stalker much?" You mocked, tilting your head, not like he could see you anyway. Taehyung chuckled on the other end. You could imagine his face at the moment. Sometimes, it surprises you that you hadn't fallen for him. Taehyung always took care of you like he was your boyfriend. But somewhere something stopped you from loving him like that. Unfortunately, you couldn't figure it out.

"Maybe. Will I be seeing you today?"

You looked down at the watch on your wrist.

7:56 PM

You had plenty of spare time. Blame it on the lack of inspiration for your art session but you wanted to enjoy life for a bit. It was Saturday the next day. Maybe you could just give yourself a break.

"Don't know but maybe. I'll-"

Suddenly, you jolted forward as your hands frantically held onto the backrest of the passenger seat in front of you, the phone slipping from your hands and falling down with a faint thud. Your eyes immediately shot up to see your driver, who was looking at you apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Miss Y/L/N. But something's wrong with the engine. I'll need some time to fix it." He stated, bowing his head as you huffed. With a shake of your head, you bent down to grab your phone and brought it back to your ear.

"Y/N?! Are you alright? Why aren't you sayi-"

"I'm okay, Tae. The car broke down. I don't know how long it'll take to get it started again." You said, hearing him sigh in relief. Your eyes fell on the small shop across the road, dim yellow lights illuminating the asphalt. It looked like a very old shop and you could make out the outlines of paintings inside it.

"Do you want me to come and get you?"

Curiosity got the best of you and you felt yourself being pulled to the shop. You just wanted to see. It was art, afterall.

"No. I'll wait it out. I'll tell you if I'm coming over. Don't bother." You replied, looking at your driver and nodding your head towards the shop. He understood and quickly got out of the car with an umbrella in his hand.

"Okay, then. Take care."

You hung up as the door to your side opened and you stepped out, scrunching your face when a few water droplets hit your face. You loved the rains, no doubt about that. But you didn't like them when you had to work outside. Petrichor was beyond pleasant but the humidity made you uncomfortable.

"I'll be in that shop. Let me know if you need help or something." You said to your driver, walking beside him as he held the umbrella above you. As soon as you stepped into the warmth of the cozy shop, you turned around and gestured your driver to take the umbrella with him. He worked for you and you respected that. He needed to be healthy and safe. With a small smile, he scurried away, leaving you to do whatever you want.

You clutched your phone tightly, looking around the small shop as your eyes sparkled at the many vibrant artworks that lay around. With a frown, you proceeded to explore around, running your fingers across all the canvases and trying to see which one you felt connected to. The emptiness of the store did make you feel creeped out but you were too distracted to act upon your uncomfortableness. The sound of rain buzzed in your ear as your eyes narrowed in concentration. You turned and stepped in another isle, glancing at the dim light which had started flickering.

This shop needs renovation…

You thought and pursed your lips. Even though you knew that you were thinking too far, you couldn't help yourself. It was pretty hard for a small store which was hidden in the outskirts of the city to make a lot of money. Renovation was miles away.

As you continued to walk down the aisle, your steps faltered when your eyes fell on the painting resting against the wall at the far end. You couldn't tell what the painting was since it had a cloth draped over it but you were curious. Like always.

You tilted your head and slowly walked towards it, stretching your hand to hold the thin and dirty cloth.

Don't do it!

You frowned, wondering why something felt wrong. Your mind was constantly telling you to get out of the store. But why? You shook your head and pulled the cloth away in one swift pull of your hand.

Your mouth fell open as soon as your eyes met his.

The man in the painting.

He looked so...real.

His eyes held pride and his plump lips pulled into a small smile. The black base contrasted well with his attire and you just couldn't take your eyes off of it. Your eyes ran across the frame and you quickly moved closer on seeing some carvings on the metal.

Park Jimin

1995- 2017

You assumed this was the man in the painting. You failed to hide your shock on seeing the year of his death. He was too young.

But why was this painting here?

Why not with his family?

Too lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice the presence of another man who was now standing behind you. His eyes raked over your body as you continued to focus on the painting that had taken your breath away. His lips stretched into a knowing smirk as he leaned against a shelf, his arms crossed against his chest.

"I see you quite like the painting."

You flinched and turned around, your hand immediately going up to your chest. You stared at the man with wide eyes, cursing at him mentally.

"You scared me." You mumbled, closing your eyes and catching your breath. He let out a breathy laugh and held his hands up as if to defend himself.

"Didn't mean to. But can't really blame me. Not many people come here."

You moved your eyes up to his face, taking in his appearance. His black hair fell across his forehead and his heart shaped lips greeted you with a smile. You had met too many people to know that something was off about this guy. Actually, something was wrong with this whole place.

"Can't blame anyone else though. You chose to open here." You replied bluntly, not caring how arrogant you sounded. You had stopped giving a shit about other people's feelings a long time ago.

4 years ago, to be precise.

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes with a mocking smile on his face.

"Touchè. So, about that painting…"

You glanced at the painting before looking back at him, knowing that he was only trying to sell it. And weirdly enough, you were absolutely ready to take it home. Even though it felt wrong.

"What about it?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"I'll give it to you for whatever you're willing to pay."

You immediately frowned. It was a perfectly good painting and you had already estimated it's price. Why was he ready to give it for anything less?

"Why would you do that?" You questioned, raising your eyebrows in disbelief. The lights flickered again for a few seconds before going back to normal. Also, the rain had stopped, you could tell by the sudden quietness that engulfed you.

"We don't get many folks here. Anything to make a living, I guess."

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor, embarrassed by his situation. You sighed in sympathy and turned around to look at Park Jimin. His eyes were boring into yours and you felt shivers running down your spine. No painting had ever affected you this much. Something was definitely different about this one and you needed to take it home.

"I'll take it for 1000 bucks."

Taglist: @csol16 @thanksforthemameries @min-t-posts @xanny91 @silverstitchedsoul @truestrengths @jackgot7lo @jazzytfw @cassiescarlet12 @kpopgirlbtssvt @slut-for-fandoms @kawaiimusiccollection @butwhatsoft @baby-glitch @wickedbutlovely

You know the drill for the taglist...lemme know if you wanna be added! I know this chapter was a little boring but I need to build a base before diving right into the yandere theme. Bare with me? Please? I love you!

-XX

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nxnoire · 5 years

Text

Desiderium

“I Know You’re In There Somewhere” Fight

part two part three part four

fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

my fifth prompt for @badthingshappenbingo

———

Ladybug had grown used to fighting akumas. She was no longer disturbed that she was fighting her friends or the kind Parisians she encountered in her daily life. Some had taken more effort than others to save, but she always had a plan. Each problem had a solution eventually.

Her and Chat Noir, they always came out on top no matter the stakes. Even when Chat Noir would be mind controlled or captured, she managed to come out on top. Of course, she worked the best with him. He wasn't her sidekick at all, rather the polar opposite of her. He would always sacrifice himself to assure her crucial power of purification was still functioning. He would also lighten the mood and always help her keep her stress at bay.

This time, there was no plan that could possibly help. Her partner, the one person she put all of her trust in, was the enemy today. Fighting her own best friend was nothing compared to fighting Chat Noir.

She stood on the rooftop, watching Chat Blanc with wide eyes as he was telepathically talking to Hawkmoth. Her mouth opened, no words able to come out. Ice froze her feet to the roof, preventing her from moving. Her hands began to shake, her anxiety rising.

"Hawkmoth's gonna create a super powerful akuma..."

Adrien was right: Hawkmoth had decided to create an akuma that would be as strong, if not stronger, than her. Her heart beat faster, threatening to burst through her chest. It became harder and harder to breathe the longer she stared at the akuma. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, even if it meant her panic would rise to dangerous levels.

The shaking only worsened when she noticed the purple light disappear from Chat's face. It spread to her legs, forcing her to fix her balance. She breathed through her mouth, taking in quick gasps to compensate for the lack of air in her lungs. No matter how hard she breathed, she couldn't seem to get enough air. Her chest screamed for air even though it was getting plenty of it.

"Ladybug!" Chat shouted, making her scared heart skip a beat. "I can see you. Be a nice lady and hand over your Miraculous."

"No!" She screamed shrilly. Her hands gripped the suit covering her legs tightly. She needed to grab something and ground herself. Wherever her sanity was, she needed to lure it back to her body.

Chat jumped over to her and cracked the roof with the great force of his landing. "Chat Noir, please, I know you're in there..." she whispered shakily, feeling her throat close up. He was uncomfortably close to her, but she couldn't move. If she moved, he would hurt her. If she stayed, he would hurt her.

She was going to die.

"Chat Blanc," he corrected. "I look so much better in white, don't you think?"

Ladybug searched his purple eyes for any trace of Chat Noir. All she found was anger and sadness. She took a deep breath to try calming herself down.

Just as she had begun to ground herself, he lunged at her, but she dodged last minute. She jumped back clumsily and kept her eyes on Chat Blanc. As strange as it was, she was thankful he attacked her. It brought her conscience back to her body. The bubbling panic remained in her but it wasn't all-consuming anymore. Ladybug had taken over at last, telling her brain to wake up.

"Hand me your Miraculous, Princess." He motioned to her ears.

Ladybug spun her yo-yo, creating a shield at her side. "Even if you're my best friend I can't give it to you. I'd die before it fell into Hawkmoth's clutches."

"That's too bad. I'll just have to take it off your dead body." He ran for her, but she dodged again, jumping backwards onto the rooftop behind her. She landed more gracefully now that she was more aware of her surroundings.

"I'm not going to fight you!" she shouted, feeling her throat painfully close again. Tears glazed her eyes, making it harder to see. Coming out of her small panic brought upon a greater despair accompanied by the realization of her reality.

"You won't have to if you give me your Miraculous, bugaboo." He raised his hand and activated his Cataclysm without even saying the phrase. "Look at me! I've got even better powers than that poor black kitten. I've got infinite power! If you surrender, you can be the same. You could create anything you want, m'lady."

Him saying "m'lady" shattered her heart, reminding her that he was still had some of Chat Noir's mannerisms. It was a reminder that he was still Chat Noir no matter how much Hawkmoth tried to consume his mind.

She couldn't even respond before he became too impatient.

"I guess I'll just have to fight you instead."

He used his staff to launch himself over to Ladybug. He threw hits at her but she dodged all of them. He attempted to hit her with his Cataclysm but was unsuccessful as well.

Ladybug stepped back, feeling the tears get hotter and hotter. They blurred her vision even more. She rubbed them away, trying to regain vision. As Chat Blanc ran for her, she jumped into the air, landing behind him.

She took in a deep breath and threw her yo-yo into the air. "Lucky Cha—"

He managed to strike her chest, sending intense pain throughout her body. It cut her voice off. The Lucky Charm failed to manifest, disappearing in a flash of pink light and vortex of ladybugs. As Ladybug's body froze with pain, she dropped the yo-yo. Her limp body was pushed off the building with great force.

Tears flew off her eyes with the wind caused by her falling motion. She watched as the top of the building slowly got farther and farther from her. Wind blew in her face, displacing her hair, making it harder to see. She didn't want to see anyway. If she were able to see, she'd anticipate the brutal impact of the ground even more and she didn't want that.

She was terrified.

The Miraculous created a suit that was impenetrable. Miraculous users were nearly invincible, the only weakness being their heads. The kwamis absorbed all of the impacts from fights. But, the power of Cataclysm made bad things happen. It stole her Lucky Charm and broke the protective barrier of the Miraculous suit, most likely causing internal damage.

Her eyes shut as her body braced for impact. Please, let me be okay. Let me save the day. Let me bring Chat back.

Her breath left her body as her body violently hit the street. She bounced, skidding towards the road. Once her body stopped moving, she opened her eyes. The only pain was in her chest, thankfully. Less thankfully was the bright afternoon sky. The sun burned the back of her eyes. It was so bright it exemplified the existing pain in her chest. Sharp, red pain shot through her body with her failed attempt to sit up.

Her chest hurt.

"Ladybug! Are you okay?" A news reporter asked frantically, the camera behind her pointed at the hurting superhero.

"...Get out of here," she urged, saying through gritted teeth. "Chat Noir...is akumatized. He's really—he's really powerful."

Just as she finished, Chat Blanc landed right on top of her. His right hand was reaching for the earrings and his free hand supported his weight. He was way too close for comfort. No matter how much Ladybug made it seem like she hated Chat being so close to her, she honestly didn’t mind it. It was better than anyone else.

Chat Blanc was that “anyone else”.

The onlookers stepped back, shocked noise erupting into the air at the sight of the white villain. They knew Chat Noir had been akumatized, but actually seeing him in person was a completely different thing from watching him on a screen.

Chat Blanc smiled evilly, looking deep into Ladybug’s pained eyes.

"Good job, Chat Blanc. With Ladybug injured you can simply take her Miraculous yourself!"

Ladybug lay, her breathing shallow to avoid the pain of even a slight movement of her chest. Fear creeped up inside of her as Chat Blanc reached for her earring. Her eyes darted back and forth quickly, looking for anything to help her. Hawkmoth was not going to win, even if it meant she would die saving the Miraculous.

"Why?" She asked to buy time, pausing to take in a painful breath. "Why...are you so angry? Was it–was it because of me?"

Chat Blanc smiled. "Of course not, m'lady." His hand stopped. "I can't tell you anything. Let me have your Miraculous and maybe we can talk once I know who you really are."

Ladybug grabbed his wrist, sending another sharp pain through her body. "Letting Hawkmoth win won't solve any of this!" Her gaze turned to the camera filming the situation for a second before returning to Chat's pained eyes. "Please...I know you're in there, Chat. Come back. Please. I can’t lose you."

"Oh, but you haven't lost me. I'm still Chat, but better." He tried to push through Ladybug's tight grip.

"You're not better!" She shouted before kicking him off of her. It sent paralyzing pain throughout her body. Her earrings beeped as her head slammed against the ground. She slowly pushed herself up and sat on the ground, watching Chat Blanc get closer to her. As he got closer, she moved herself backwards before bumping into a car.

Chat Blanc stopped in front of her and smiled.

"Goodnight, Princess."

#sorry for the late update ive been super busy!#bad things happen bingo #miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous fanfic #chat blanc

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imnotrevealingmyname · 4 years

Text

Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths. Nobody moved a muscle.

Sigyn watched with a rising sense of foreboding and alarm as Loki paced the room. All the warmth had left him the moment they'd landed here. Tony and Natasha were staring out of the window, gazes averted from her. The rest of them sat stock still, feeling increasingly sure that something was about to go wrong.

"I hope you enjoyed your time in Helheim?"Loki asked suddenly, halting in his pacing to look Sigyn in the eyes, face morphed into an overly pleasant smile. Sigyn raised an eyebrow.

"You could've told us, you know,"he said, turning to face her fully. "I would've had a tour guide then."

"Well, I am sorry,"Sigyn said sarcastically. "It has been a terrible lapse on my part, I am sure."

Loki snarled. "You think this is a joke, do you?"

"As much of a joke as you guys thought it was when you got yourselves killed,"Sigyn said calmly. "Or even threw yourself off a cliff."

Natasha glanced at her sharply. "I wasn't aware that you're the one doing the chastising here."

"You drove us insane with worry,"Tony said in a dangerously low voice, still not turning to look at her. "Your husband jumped from Realm to Realm in search of healers for you, Sigyn. We went to the underworld to put an end to the curse."

"And I journeyed to Helheim to bring all three of you back,"Sigyn shot back, glaring. "I don't see how this is any different."

Loki bristled. "This is different because you were alive,"he spat. "We weren't. You were being tortured. Do you have any idea what it feels like to see someone you love being tormented beyond belief, and you can't do anything to help?"

"You know what?"Tony said, turning around finally. "You need to stop hiding stuff. You should have told us about your bargain with that hag."

Sigyn thought she would explode. She did all of this for them; and they repaid her in this way?!

But Loki had apparently had enough. "And what were you all thinking, letting her go to Vormir?"he spat, rounding on the others, who looked startled. In two swift strides, Loki was in front of Steve, who took an almost imperceptible step back.

Loki wasn't having it.

His fingers closed around Steve's throat, and the next thing Sigyn knew, Steve was in the air, and he was struggling to get free. Quite unnecessary and absurd, really. But when Loki lost his composure, it usually meant that things were in a very delicate state.

The others stood up abruptly to intervene, but Loki had slammed Steve against the wall. Steve tried to punch Loki in the gut, but Loki didn't budge.

Obviously, Steve's supersoldier powers were no match for Loki's strength.

As Sigyn rushed forth, a fleeting image flashed in her mind.

A purple Titan, slowly asphyxiating a leather clad, raven haired God...

"Loki, stop,"she said with as much authority as she could muster; which didn't work very well, because her voice quivered slightly as she tugged at Loki's arm, vision studded with bright spurts of lights for a moment.

But it had the desired effect, because Loki froze, and dropped a gasping and red-faced Steve, who scowled at him in indignation.

Loki turned around slowly to see Sigyn staring at him, hands on hips and legs parted.

"We're going home right now. Thor, go to Vanaheim and tell Mother that we'll be there by nightfall,"she snapped, and grabbed his arm to teleport them both back.

****

"What were you thinking?"Sigyn spat, the moment they were back, rounding on Loki angrily. "You could've-"

But Loki had grabbed hold of her and the next moment, he had her pinned against the wall, trapped in his rough grip. The startled yelp that issued from her mouth made his lips curve into a malicious grin, and the look on his eyes darkened.

He was actually enjoying the searing look she was giving him, eyes full of anger, fear and- fates above- unmistakeable arousal.

Rage pulsed through his veins, and he flexed against her, pushing her further against the wall, glaring down at her, teeth bared, panting slightly.

"Have you any idea how worried we were?"Loki breathed in a low growl; the sound made her suck in a breath, and her breasts expanded deliciously under his chest. He was having a hard time controlling himself, suddenly.

"Have you any idea how desperate we were? How scared I was?"

He said those last few words in an even lower, silky-smooth voice, head dipping to make her feel his breath against her ears, drawing out the words deliberately; a spike of heat sizzled down to his groin as he saw a deep flush emanate near her neck and travel up the delicate column of her throat. Sigyn swallowed audibly, and Loki growled again. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the tiny hairs stand up along her neck and arms.

Feeling reckless, enraged beyond belief, he pressed his hips against hers, revelling in a dull glow as the breath left her in a rush when she felt the hard ridge of his cock against her belly.

She was looking at him with undeniable fright now.

Loki watched with a vindictive pleasure, almost animal in its searing heat, as her throat worked furiously.

"Why didn't you at least tell me about that deal with Lady Death?"

He grasped her waist with one hand, holding her steady against his imposing frame, and his other hand travelled up her waist, up the slightly concave curve of her belly, over her breasts, to rest lightly around her throat. She was breathing hard now.

"Answer me, Sigyn,"he said, still in that low murmur, eyes dark with intent. The emotions were tearing inside him, burning through his chest in haphazard streaks of fire, leaving behind nothing but a charred, empty hole and ashes. More ashes.

He couldn't think straight.

"I almost lost you,"he all but hissed.

"I'm sorry, love,"she said now, apparently having gotten her voice back.

Loki snarled as her hands came to rest on his chest, as she gave her that pleading look she knew so well he couldn't resist.

Not this time.

The next thing he knew, he had her slung over his shoulder, and he was carrying her to the bed. She gave a sharp squeak, and he slapped her rear once, hard. Another squeak.

She didn't speak, though.

Wise decision.

Loki deposited her at the edge of the mattress and she hurried to lean back when he stood over her.

"You didn't answer me,"Loki said silkily... dangerously low. Sigyn opened her mouth, but closed it again, and gulped.

His eyes went dark with heat and intent. He was pleased to see the answering heat that pooled in hers.

His stomach contracted slightly when he saw the emotion in her eyes. He could tell that she was aching to touch him, to comfort him. Sigyn's eyes welled slightly.

Feeling desperate all of a sudden, he tore at the placket of his trousers and narrowed his eyes when Sigyn's gaze fell to his naked sex.

His hand grasped at her hair, gently but firmly, and her gaze snapped back up to him. She was breathing fast, now.

Good.

"Why would you do that to me, Sigyn?"he asked softly, thumb pressing against the base of her neck lightly.

"I love you,"she murmured, taking him by surprise. He growled.

"Suck me."

Her lack of hesitation drove him mad, and he growled again, a low, feral sound, as the more primal instincts came over him.

He groaned, and his eyes fixed upon her lips, stretching and flexing around his shaft. Sigyn's hands settled on his hips, touch feather-light.

The room filled with sounds of his ragged rush of breath, and the slick, wet noises of her mouth working on him. The contrast of cool lips and hot mouth sent ripples of pleasure up his spine. He grabbed her shoulder with his free hand and thrust into her mouth.

Pleasure sizzled along his nerve endings, searing him, branding his naked flesh, and he felt the knot deep in his abdomen growing and pulsing, egged on by Sigyn's fingers, that were now pumping away and working on what her mouth couldn't reach.

He was right at the edge.

He could feel the orgasm starting to unfurl at the base of his cock.

In a swift movement, he ripped her away from his cock and pushed her down on the bed. She didn't cry out this time.

She didn't cry out even when he tore her dress off her body, chemise and all, and pushed it aside.

Loki paused to pull the shirt off over his head, and climbed over her, claiming her mouth in a penetrating kiss, pushing her lips open and flooding the hot recess of her mouth with his tongue.

Gods, her mouth was so hot.

He pulled away when her hands settled on his shoulders and glared down at her, arousal, anger and grief clouding his senses. As he bore down on her, he saw the slightest hint of a smile on Sigyn's features.

Loki snarled, and he felt his control slipping further. Her bent and nipped her throat, hard enough to make her gasp.

"Loki..."

"Not. A. Word,"he rasped, and her teeth clicked together with a satisfying snap.

When his lips wrapped around her right nipple, she gave a sharp sigh and went soft and putty-like under her grasp.

He actually felt the moment when she surrendered completely.

Pleasure coiled in his chest as he sucked at her hungrily, plumping her breasts up so the tips stood out even farther, distended and swollen, as he bit and nipped and pulled at the pebbled nubs.

He heard her breathy gasp and his name being murmured softly when he bit that tender spot on the underside of her breast, and then sucked the flesh, tongue flitting out.

With a low, rasping sound, Loki shot her a glare, which seemed to quell her immediately. Sigyn stared back at him dolefully, and then shuddered slightly when he pressed down on top of her.

"Quiet,"he snapped. Not angrily, but impatient and unyielding. She sighed again.

Then Loki moved down over her, eyes glittering with obvious intent, until he was straddling her shins.

"You should've told me,"he growled, face very close to her sex now. Sigyn gulped and licked her lips, but said nothing.

"Apologize,"he demanded suddenly. The pull of unwanted emotions was too much. He wanted relief, and yet, he was scared. Everything that he had kept bottled up for years was bubbling right under the surface now.

"I'm sorry,"Sigyn said softly. Her tone threw him off balance. How she could pour so much feeling into two words, he couldn't imagine for the life of him.

And yet, he heard the underpinnings of satisfaction in her voice. Her face held compassion, love; and another emotion which he couldn't quite pinpoint.

He felt like she knew something he didn't.

And she knew exactly what he was thinking.

The thought, though making him deeply uneasy due to some reason, was also extremely comforting.

And arousing.

With another deep rumble from the base of his throat, he delved between her legs, lips melding to the outer lips of her sex. He drew at them, tongue peeking out to circle her clit, and licked her from the top of her slit down to her entrance, to taste her essence. Loki felt her shiver under him and jerk when his lips closed around her clit, which was already engorged and hot.

He kept his gaze on her, sucking her all the time, until she was shaking with the thrum of impending orgasm, clit jumping against his tongue.

The self-restraint, which he was well known for and which he prided himself for had suddenly evaporated under the white-hot spurt of anger and desire.

Loki spread her legs even wider, almost obscenely wide, to get more access, and started sucking and worrying at the hard, swollen nub with renewed vigour.

So much so that he felt afraid that he would devour her completely. His libido had taken over him completely.

Right then, Sigyn's back bowed, and she arched off the bed on a hoarse cry of completion, pushing against his mouth. Loki settled into it eagerly, and growled when she half screamed with pleasure.

Then she fell back on the bed, twitching and spasming.

His tongue slipped out to lick the taste of her off his lips, glaring at Sigyn.

Then he proceeded to suck her into his mouth again, with more force. Sigyn yelped and shuddered, writhing around. But Loki held her down easily.

When she came the second time, she was keening desperately.

Loki didn't stop. This time, she tried to squirm away, half sobbing. Loki turned his head and bit her sharply, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh... And she came again, on a high scream.

Even before she had come down from her high, his hips were against hers, legs holding hers apart, and he was pushing into her in a quick, decisive thrust.

Sigyn cried out again, eyes shut, hips snapping upwards to meet his thrusts, even as her sex clamped down on his cock.

"Look at me,"Loki rasped. Sigyn obeyed, eyes hooded with pleasure, lips parted, panting.

Gods, he was being too rough. He knew it. But Sigyn was enjoying it, if anything.

The pleasure swamped him, and he bit down on her breasts, her neck, her shoulders, as he fucked her roughly, utterly dominating. The sight of her body undulating under him, jostled by his thrusts wound him up even further, and he growled, pinning her hands high above her head.

Sigyn was whimpering, keening with pleasure; but there was still that inexplicable sort of satisfaction there on her face.

His anger rose by another notch, and he started pounding into her, and she yelped, head thrown back on the pillows.

Rage and lust blinded him, and he snarled when she spoke up suddenly.

"Kiss me,"she murmured.

Loki pulled out of her, making her grunt. In a flash, he flipped her over and pulled her up so that she was on all fours. Then he pushed into her again, chest molded to her back.

He gave her a series of punishing thrusts, and Sigyn's arms collapsed under her. He rutted into her nevertheless, driven wild by the sight of her trembling limbs. He brought his hand around to the front of her body and blindly reached for her the apex of her legs. His thumb found her clit and he rubbed it once, firmly.

On a broken cry, she came again, sex fluttering around him.

Loki growled into the nape of her neck, still thrusting. Her scent enveloped him, and he found himself slipping out of the animal haze he had fallen into.

Then he felt her walls rippling and contracting around him again, and he made a deep sound in his throat, giving her a few deliberate thrusts in long, wet strokes.

Sigyn cried out again, and Loki realized with a starburst of pleasure in his abdomen that she was coming again.

Then he started talking to her, telling her in a low, erotic murmur how good it felt, how good she felt, how tight and hot her slick channel was...

She was sobbing with pleasure now, stimulated beyond relief, jerking to every thrust, every bite, as he drove into that incredible tightness.

"Loki!"she screamed suddenly, floorboards creaking with the force of his movements, and Loki bit her neck again. He felt the skin break, and the metallic taste of blood; he sucked the spot, and Sigyn threw her head back and keened almost soundlessly, half lifting him off the bed in the process.

He had aborted his own orgasm several times now.

With another animal snarl, he flipped her over once more and pushed her thighs up against her chest, folding her in half, so that the angle made her scream in pleasure. Then his cock was there again, nudging through the lips of her sex, pushing through the entrance.

Her eyes were unfocused now, glazed over. Loki himself was getting closer and closer to the edge, and his thrusts were getting erratic.

"Love..."Sigyn murmured suddenly, and raised her hands, threading her arms around his neck; Loki claimed her lips with his, sucking and nipping and licking until he was sure they would be puffy and bruised later. He tasted blood again, and kissed her harder.

"Look at me,"she demanded between kisses. Feeling slightly numb with pleasure, he obeyed, gaze moving up to her eyes.

What he saw there almost sent him reeling.

Her eyes were glazed with a sheen of tears, glowing with emotion. Electricity seemed to crackle in them, and Loki's entire world seemed to lurch and tip forward on his axis.

He was falling, suddenly.

With a hoarse sob, he clutched onto the only thing that was true and real; he grasped at her, head falling on her chest helplessly, burrowing for naked skin, deliciously warm.

A tingling sensation originated near his head and crept down his body, and realized that he was blue... he was in his true form, laid bare...

****

Wanna read more? Check out my profile on Wattpad! (The excerpt above is from Chapter 39 of The Last Bargain.)

#loki smut #loki (marvel)#loki friggason #loki x sigyn #tom hiddleston #fanfic #fanfiction

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

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Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 3

3. seize the moment and stay in it

Chapter Summary: escape to LA. done. living in a van? not exactly on the checklist. they’ll make it work.

Warnings: renamed; formerly Platinum. Underage drug use (weed) and vaguely sexual content.

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @missqueeniewrites @calspixie

{masterlist}

They're going seventy down the highway and Lola's got her head out of the window like a dog, beaming in the sunlight with her hair streaming behind her, clutching at the parcan in her lap. The radio's blaring Kiss and she's can't hear it above the wind in her ears, and Frank watches her in the mirror, out the corner of his eye, tapping to the rhythm where he's got an arm resting on the open car window. It's the most relaxed he's seen her since he's met her, the sun and the wind seems to do her a world of good.

She's turning seventeen in a few days, but won't say anything; it's not like it really matters that she celebrate it, she can tell him after the fact, but for now she doesn't want to take away from how good it feels to be her own woman, moving to L-fucking-A. Her mood isn't even soured when they show up to where the singer had they'd be staying, and it turns out to be the equipment van with a mattress in the back, parked in front of his apartment block. The easiest bathroom to get to is the one at the gas station down the road. Frank raises an eyebrow.

"It's the best we could do, man," the singer, Blackie, shrugged, his gaze flicking to Lola, "we weren't expecting-"

Lola's hands go up in mock surrender, and she's smiling despite the situation.

"No, this is great, it's radical," and she seems so genuine when she says it, climbing onto the mattress in the back, "and I'll stay out of your hair, I promise I won't be a problem." It's placating more than anything else. It's not like she's blind to the way the singer looks at her, the irritated gazes he flicks her way on occasion, the way he rolls her eyes at her excitement; she's a spanner in the works, an extra body he didn't account for, a leech on his resources and his bandmate's time.

"I'll get a job, I'll keep busy," the band are bringing their gear into the their apartment, and Lola's so earnest as she helps carry a box of leads up the stairs. Frank gives her an amused look in lieu of a response, putting two guitar cases against the wall behind where the drumkit was already set up for rehearsals. "I'm not just gonna sit around all day, I'm here, I made it," and her eyes are almost sparkling, though perhaps it's just the sunlight shining through the window. They head back to the station wagon they'd arrived in to collect the last of the supplies, or rather, Frank helped move the bass amp while Lola fretted before climbing into the back of the van and getting herself settled.

The mattress is lumpy, the whole place smells like weed, and there's only one pillow, but when she lays back, makes herself comfortable on the duvet, she looks content. After a moment, she pulls a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, lighting one up, an almost dreamy smile on her face.

"Where're you gonna get a job, Lo?" Frank's leaning against the open back doors of the van, arms crossed as he gives the beaming Lola a fond smile, enjoying the sight of her joy. For a moment, she hums, considering, and she rests her hands behind her head.

"Dunno, somewhere, anywhere; city of Angels, Frank, the possibilities are endless."

"You're pretty optimistic for someone living in a van," he snickered, but all she did to respond was shuffle over and pat the mattress as an invitation. It takes a beat, but he joins her, looking up at the roof of the van. They share the silence for a moment, Lola's excitement practically radiating from her, it's sweet, refreshing, and Frank's starting to realise how much he enjoys seeing her smile. One hand reaches over to take the cigarette from her, to have some himself, the other hand coming to rest at the top of her thigh.

"It's the middle of the afternoon," she laughs, but they both refuse to look at each other, her legs parting just a little, automatically. He breathes out a cloud of smoke.

"And?" Like it's ever stopped them before.

"At least close the door; the whole street doesn't deserve a show," Lola snickers, and Frank props himself up on his elbows, grinning at her, passing the cigarette back.

"Could be your job though; Lola's a stripper name." He reminded her. She's audibly indignant as he shifts up to go and close the van's doors, and when he turns back, she's sitting up, leaning against the back of the driver's seat as it made up an impromptu headboard.

"Anyways, I don't have enough tits to be a decent stripper," and she can sense he's about to retaliate, a cheeky grin already spreading across his lips, but she holds up a hand, taking the moment in which he hangs on her every movement to inhale once more from the cigarette. He's gone back to laying on the mattress, on his side, his nails grazing from her ankle to her knee and back again, "and don't give me any bullshit, you've never seen them, really."

"I can judge pretty well from -," he grins, sharp and mischievous, reaching up to pinch at one of her boobs instead of finishing the thought, but not before she smacks his hand away, "besides, it's not for lack of trying." And he has a point, but Lola knows if he gets her shirt off, he'll end up seeing her burns, will see they're a lot more than she lets on, and he'll ask questions. She doesn't need that. Especially in the middle of the day. She passes the cigarette to him to finish off.

"If I'd wanted you to see them, you would have," she sits a little straighter, refusing to meet his gaze, looking instead out the tiny, grimy back windows of the van. It hits her in that moment, where she is, who she's with, everything that's happened in the past few months, and for the barest second she's worried she's made the biggest mistake of her life. It's one thing to leave home - be forced to leave home - it's another to run away from an actual safe haven, no matter how boring it seemed.

"No need to get bitchy," Frank snapped, rolling his eyes. When he sits up, Lola feels a twinge of guilt, but she pushes it down. He's reaching for his duffel bag and she's contemplating leaving and maybe going for a walk will clear her mind and it's just jitters and- "hey, it's okay." He's watching where he's lighting the end of the joint he'd pulled from the bag. "Like, if it means that much to you, I don't really care; I don't get it, honestly, but-" with a shrug, he's not sure how to finish, but the sentiment carries over enough that Lola feels the tightness in her chest easing.

They hotbox the van, smoke filling the small space and easing the tension between them as Lola feels herself relaxing as the sun sinks slowly below the horizon. He's beautiful at sunset, all golden and grinning and Lola can't stop thinking about how she's never actually kissed him despite everything they've done already and she's teetering on the edge of changing that when there comes a knock at the door.

It's night; stars are shining bright, like glitter, like diamonds, and Lola's already forgotten whatever it is she was just thinking, trying to focus on whatever it is the singer's saying. He doesn't- he doesn't- she can't even get her mind around the statement- he doesn't like her. He doesn't know her. She should- should- she should be irritated. Maybe. About what? She can't remember.

Frank takes one look at her, with her eyes glazed over, where she's swaying a little, sitting forward, and he knows there's no way she can stand, let alone go out like Blackie's inviting them.

"She'll be fine, it's been a fucking long day, she needs the sleep," Frank assures the singer, and lets him know that he'll be coming out. Blackie rolls his eyes at Lola and tells him they're leaving in fifteen minutes, which to Frank is plenty of time. The doors of the van slam closed again and Lola looks to Frank.

"What?" She's blinking slowly, trying to make sense of everything that happened, and Frank recalls something she said about how she prefers E because weed makes her weird but he never thought that she'd act like this. This wasn't weird, this was sleepy and lethargic, and he'd seen it before and he couldn't take her out like this.

"I'm going out with the band, you should get to sleep," and he watches her with slight amusement as she moves to him, watches as she rests a hand on his shin and she fixes her shallow, fascinated gaze on the point of contact. He lets her fingers move higher, barely feeling it through his jeans, just intrigued as she comes to rest at his knee and her grip gets tighter as she leans her weight on it, leans in close to him.

"Yeah, probably," she agrees quietly, so close that he can see just how hazy and red her eyes are, how wide her pupils have blown. She's so out of it that the world could come to an end around her and she wouldn't even notice. She's so wrapped up in the sensations, in the little details of the world around her, and now she's practically in his lap, sitting on his thighs, so caught up with seemingly trying to analyse every little detail about him. It's fascinating, and he's nowhere near complaining.

"I'm- I'm being weird," she breathes, suddenly self aware as she makes a move to climb off of him, "weed makes me weird- I told you this," she scolds him gently, as if it was his fault, as if she hadn't been smoking of her own free will. He's not sure what set her off, but an instinctual part of doesn't want her to move away, likes having her this close; he tells himself it's just something about contact, about how warm she is.

"Lola," and he rests a hand on her thigh, trying to tell her that it's fine, that she should get some sleep, but his thumb is rubbing circles against her skin and her breath catches just a little, barely noticeable, but he doesn't miss it. His words die in his throat as he carefully digs his nails in, just a little, and she lets out an audible 'oh'; it turns out it makes her sensitive too.

And god, not that this wasn't fascinating, but there's a knock on the door and the guitarist is calling for him.

"Sleep." He reminds Lola, who whines as she flops back on the mattress, calling him a tease, finger fumbling with the zipper on her shorts as he steps out the back of the van. Already Frank's regretting deciding to go out as he closes the door to the van. It's easy not to dwell, however, when he's high and booze soaked and listen to music he's pretty sure is already leagues ahead of most of the stuff he'd heard in the pubs back home. The night feels raw, feels electric, feels alive; the band's already locals at the bar, and they introduce him to the staff easily enough who grin and shake hands and take a liking to him and his look without knowing if he's even any good. It feels like home before he's even spent the night. It's the right choice, the right move, without a shadow of a doubt.

And when he gets back, keys in his pocket as he blearily unlocks the door to the van, he sees Lola, passed out, facing away from him where she's hogging the entire pillow and most of the mattress.

"Hey, move," he's gently nudging her to one side, uncoordinated where he's trying to gently take back some of the pillow to the best of his ability. Until Lola rolls over, blinks up at him sleepily, and almost screams, "'s me, 's me, 's me!" Frank backs up a little, making shushing gestures as Lola's sitting bolt upright, breathing hard with panic.

"Dick." She hissed once her racing heart has calmed down a little, and he's laughing his fucking head off now she's no longer terrified that it might be an intruder. He pulls the back door of the van shut now that she's awake and he doesn't need the streetlight to see where he was moving her, and they're bathed in darkness. "You absolute dick, warn me next time."

"How? You- Lo, you were so high I could have set you on fire and you'd've just fuckin' let yourself burn-"

"Weed makes me weird, leave a note." She advised, shuffling around to make room for him in the dark as he lay out beside her. "You're still wearing jeans." It's much less hostile this time, and Frank laughs sleepily, though it's muffled by the pillow.

"That's tomorrow's problem, babe," he mused, turning on his side to face her. He can barely see her in the darkness, but he knows she's facing him. "I can't believe you came to fuckin' LA with me," he snickers, but she's still quiet. His hand comes to rest on her hip where she's laying on her side, and his hand drifts higher until she can feel fingertips brushing the burns on her back. She wants to tell him to fuck off, to slap his hand away, to get mad and shove him from her personal space, but he's not reacting how she thought he would.

"You're so fuckin' badass," he yawns gently, and oh no, there in her chest, that sudden rush of affection that she doesn't like to think about too often. But she's not his girlfriend, she's his good friend, sure, but she isn't allowed to feel things for him, she isn't allowed to kiss him, and her personal rule is that she's definitely forbidden from sleeping with him. Nothing that means something more than fucking around. She's not even seventeen, she's not going to ruin it by catching feelings for the first boy to get her off.

But if she's being honest, she's very nearly seventeen, and well aware that what little self control she has crumbles at the slightest provocation. At least she's self aware. As if that will help

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx imagine #the dirt #the dirt imagine #motley crue #motley crue imagine #the angry lizard writes #platinum fic

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poli9048 · 4 years

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Part 3

"Who are you gonna run to now?"

Lea was carrying a container with warm food in it that her father had asked her to take to a neighbor. The delicious smell of lasagna made her dizzy, but the unpleasant feeling that was tormenting her from the inside did not allow her to concentrate on this pleasant smell at all.

The incident at the party had thrown Leia out of her comfort zone. She was bitterly aware that it would be awkward for her to look at her friend's eyes now, since they had almost kissed twice in the past week, and the thought of it made her cheeks flush with shame. Lea and Chris never allowed themselves to do this, valued their friendship and stayed at a distance. Currently, both have taken a step, not fully realizing in what kind of way.

With a heavy sigh, Brossard walked to the Morrises 'front porch and pulled the handle of the neighbors' front door as if it were the entrance to her own home. The door wasn't locked, so Lea went inside. Chris, in a rumpled t-shirt and disheveled hair, was sitting at the table in the living room, his dark green eyes fixed on a shelf, but it was clear that his thoughts were far beyond this room.

Without bothering to say Hello, Lea set the container right in the middle of the table, pushing the dirty glasses and several packets of candy bars to one side. — From my parents. This is lasagna, be careful, don't choke on it.

Chris shifted his heavy gaze to the woman next to him, mumbled something under his breath, and returned his gaze to the bookcase.

— Where's the thank you? I was actually wasting my time bringing you this masterpiece of cooking — Lea began, ignoring her friend's untidy, tired appearance, the dark circles and bags under his eyes clearly indicating that the young man had not slept for several nights in a row.

— Thank you, — Chris said. —Finished? Get out of here.

— I'm actually trying to help you, and you're acting like a complete asshole,— Lea said. A few days of continuous lectures from her parents and an early Sunday service left their mark on her emotional state.

— I don't need your help, okay?! — Chris exploded, clearly on edge. He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair, his eyes blazing with rage, and his voice breaking into a scream. — I can't help myself, and how can you help me? Who are you, anyway? A strong and independent hooker. No one sees you more than as a sexual object!

Lea recoiled as if she had been whipped. Morris's words were just as stinging, and the girl's lips were frozen with hysteria.

— And you're a damned weakling who does nothing but whine and feel sorry for yourself. Mama's boy! Where is your mother? Who are you going to run to now?! — these words came out of her mouth. Lea did not even have time to realize how much she had hurt him now. Chris felt like a slap in the face, and his eyes — those mirrors of his soul — were now filled with pain and despair.

— Go to the office and get a job there, — Lea suggested after a moment's silence, trying to hide the excitement and remorse in her voice.

— I already went, and the only thing I was told was that it was fucking mediocre,— Chris said, recovering from a moment of rage, and picking up the container that his friend had brought from the table and removing the foil in which the still — warm lasagna was wrapped, he began to eat it. Lasagna was Mrs. Brossard's signature dish, and she made it for holidays, neighborhood gatherings, and school fairs. Many who tried the dish for the first time so flatteringly praised this painfully simple recipe. And the family only painfully realized that this is the only thing that she knew how to cook. Other French dishes that often appeared on the family table, she ordered at her favorite restaurant.

***

No matter how cold-blooded a bitch Lea was trying to be, she felt that now she simply had to help a friend who seemed to be always there. In addition to the feeling of guilt for the words expressed in the heat of the quarrel, the girl decided to talk to the editor of the magazine.

— Is John in there? — Lea came to work off-shift and glanced at the big blue eyes of the pretty Secretary. Did he offer her sex too?

—Yes, what are you concerned about? — Brossard didn't even hear the rest of the question and stormed into the editor-in-chief's cold office. Only idiots could open a window in the fall, and one of them was sitting in front of her.

When Mr. Blythe saw Leia in the doorway, he gave Her a dirty grin and looked her up and down, licking his lips like a predator.

— I've already missed you.

— Hire Chris — Leia demanded in a harsh, cold tone that brooked no argument, but John's expression didn't change at all. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his sky-blue shirt, revealing pale, protruding collarbones, as if he were hot in this icy office.

— So, I didn't make a mistake, you were in the photo, - John closed his eyes and stretched his lips in a smile. — And Chris is your boyfriend, isn't he? Lea frowned.

— He's my neighbor, and it doesn't matter.

— Oh, trust me, this is a big deal in our little deal, — John said, raising his eyebrows as he beat a strange rhythm on his knee. The belt badge glittered in the sunlight that slid across his body.

— Tell me about it — Lea took a step forward, and he abruptly grabbed her by the arm. All attempts to keep her balance were futile, and reluctantly the girl sat on his knee.

The smell of expensive perfume and cigarettes hit her nose — not the cheap ones she bought at the local corner store-but good, expensive cigarettes with a thick white filter and a pleasant aftertaste. After a moment, the guy put his hand on her back, running his hand along her spine and stopping at the edge of her t-shirt.

— If you want your neighbor Chris to work in my office, you know what you have to do, — John hissed into the back of his neck, his nose stroking the thin skin and his lips exploring each wreath.

— You have a mountain of silicone at the front Desk, cover girl, why do you need me? — Leia's voice trailed off. Close contact and a few confident and, unfortunately, pleasant touches took away all the ability to think clearly.

— Do you agree to my offer or not? — Brossard exhaled noisily. Having sex with an unpleasant guy for the sake of an ungrateful neighbor is a bad idea. But she wasn't doing it because of Chris. An image of Mrs. Morris, a beautiful woman and neighbor, came to mind, giving Leia advice and feeding her whenever She ran away from home. She loved her son very much, and the girl knew what a strong bond they had, so the answer to his question was obvious.

— Yes, — she said underneath her breath.

— What did you just say? — his breath tickled her ear. He could hear her answer perfectly, and she could feel the smile in his voice.

— I agree.

John began to trace a path of kisses from the neck to the shoulder of the girl, biting the skin somewhere in the area of the collarbone. Lea pursed her lips, trying to catch her breath.

— Close the door, — she said.

— Such a brave girl is afraid of being seen?"

John closed the door roughly. His brown eyes burned with desire. He walked over to Leia, who was sitting in his expensive leather chair. With deft fingers, he unbuttoned his shirt, pushed it aside, and, taking the girl by the hips, sat her down on the table.

«A strong and independent hooker.»

Blythe bit into the full lips of Lea, who reluctantly returned his quick kiss, bit her lip, and pushed his tongue into the girl's mouth. Lea frowned in disgust at herself and this guy, but she knew that she could not escape her chosen fate, and she ran her fingers through the thick curly hair of the young man, pulling it back and forcing the guy to recoil.

«No one sees you more than as a sexual object!»

John took off the girl's black t-shirt and, covering her body with kisses, exploring it with his hands, pulled off her skirt and threw it somewhere to the side. Lea felt the appraising gaze of a predator that had found its new victim.

— God, you're gorgeous,— he breathes, and then he grabs her by the hips and heads toward the black leather sofa.

The young man loomed over Brossard, and her gaze fell on Blythe's freckled face, which was strewn across his sharp cheekbones in constellations. Leia's hands slid over John's taut abs as the thick leather belt clattered to the floor. Freeing both himself and Leia from unnecessary items of clothing, the guy abruptly entered the girl, spreading her pliable thighs.

«...hooker!»

John moved in a way that made Leia's vision darken and her head spin. She took deep breaths, but could not get enough oxygen to cope with the lack of breathing.

"...no one sees you more..."

Blythe didn't want to hurt her, but it was getting harder to control himself with each thrust. Moans came from lips that gasped for air. John abruptly changed the angle of the entrance, pinning the girl to the sofa. His hands were everywhere: at the bottom of her stomach, on her chest...

«hooker! ...a sex object!»

Heavy breathing, hoarse moans-all the sounds in the office merged in unison. Blythe bites into the girl's thin neck with a kiss, grabs her stomach, and with one deep penetration they both achieve release. Both breathing so heavy, like they ran ten miles on Blakan.

— Don't tell Chris that I asked him to take it. Just tell me you changed your mind, okay? — Lea asked, avoiding the gaze of the one she'd just given herself to, as she gathered her clothes from the floor.

— All right,— Blythe said, and fastened his seat belt with a slight movement.

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