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katyspersonal · 10 months

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I am feeling so ill. My mental pain keeps translating into physical one, like something that keeps poisoning me from within, and it can last from very morning to very evening at times. I wish I stopped being reminded of the backstabbing, of how much that person has been lying to us, and how she threw away her empathy and common sense in an instant, as soon as she got enticed with the prospect to feel like a """victim""". When everything was explained and even forgiven prior.

For a Christian, she sure is a terrible one, and really should pray to her God for forgiveness. Because that's sin of vanity if I've seen one. Her sorry pro-lifer ass that can't even use they/them pronouns because it is "not correct in English" and has been following Mico herself before he deactivated must be satisfied with people around with whom she has to censor her true opinions, I suppose? She had all context, she had explanation and apology, she faked having accepted that apology too, lied about not really caring about the "drama", faked patience and lied about always welcoming me back - only to latch at the first chance to backstab me and my friends she got. And the way she conveniently ignored how I took my words back, too.. I don't know what is WRONG with people who think that when a person that has been stalked and harassed for a year lashes out upon feeling threatened - they've shown their """true face""". Nobody is more alien to normal human emotions and reactions than Americans. I guess for them you are either physically incapable of anger, fear and fucking up OR you are a vile dangerous monster.

But the real question - what did she want to ACCOMPLISH? She didn't really feel like a star and gain sympathy like a victim of the """horrible mistreatment""" that me lashing out when she defended my STALKER was - that I also TOOK BACK. From my knowledge, she kept herself anonymous. And of course instantly blocked me, because like a coward she could not answer for her lies. She also lost other friends too - one HATES liars and hypocrites more than anything, another has similar emotional problems to mine so no longer feels safe, third straight up was harassed by that person as well.. "They are still lovely people" she says. And I am not a "lovely" person, of course. Because "lovely" people just smile and shrug off being stalked, harassed and talked untrue shit about for a year, I suppose? Because "lovely" people don't become clingy for someone defending them so loud and proud?

My only theory is that she just secretly harbored hatred towards me all along but was forcing the facade of patience and understanding, until one day finally came what looked like a good justification to drop it. But then why sending me all that emotional support when I fell for suicidal road back in spring? Why write at least two essays to Alfred-chan about her right to interact with me and about how I deserved kindness and compassion? Why acting flattered when I said I loved her (platonically) when in reality she was creeped out? Why bothering to explain me how she did not blame me and always would welcome me back in the blog? Following me for a decent time and all that interacting. Was feeling like a poor victim that fell under attack of the "monster" for like 5 minutes without even revealing her name to the world and losing more likeminded people worth it? Was it worth it? How? How mad you should be at someone for getting attached more than """acceptable""" and for lashing out before learning why you'd defend someone that harassed us, that you'd resort to backstabbing and break all your prior promises? She even told me stuff like "ratting someone out is very condemned in my culture and I'd never do that". Then what DID she do, when she showed the moment of weakness I had 40 days ago, to a deranged ableist that has been condoning harassment and canceling for hell knows how long and she could tell wished me harm?

I want to ask whether it was worth it, but clearly she didn't lose anything of value. One of those "but internet connections are not REAL uwu" people.

I so badly want to say that this is my fault for trusting someone who is not only American but also a Christian, double combination of hypocrite and all you know. Because I just want to find a reason. I want to know WHY, even if the answer is something as shallow as nationality and religion. But this is just not fair to people who are one or both of these things but have common sense to not lie and not be cut throats. I guess the real reason is that some people are just too easily enticed with the chance to feel like the "good" guys, to mark category of people that do not deserve any empathy, human bonds and understanding because they are "evil and dangerous". It is just easier. You feel justified to mistreat a certain category of people because they are "bad" - all while the criteria for why they're "bad" is growing progressively absurd. But this coming from a person that preached kindness and acceptance. Yet she sided with the people that punish me FOR having shown that kindness and acceptance to someone else, and never intend to stop. Why following Mico yourself, then?

I have no skill of forgiving people that do not feel remorse, I am not that kind of a person. It just hurts until I forget or find another thing to worry about. I don't know where to turn to, what superior power to pray to for faster healing from this, because betrayal like this is the worst thing you can do to me. It is fine to refuse to forgive someone's mental breakdown, but why not tell me off in private? Why run under the skirt of the person with bad faith that only supports neurodivergence in the form of being quirky about one's special interests and not for what problems it really brings? Does she really think it is victim's fault when they develop bad trust and abandonment issues upon a creepy stalker trying to ruin their life? The cunt would've doxxed me if they could only over the fact that I said I was gonna reblog from who I want - again, something she herself kept getting harassed over. So was that okay, then? She never meant her words, then, and only flexed her "I interact with who I want" for weird flex of herself as a hero, and not for our friends group?

Well, yes. It has to be that. Until she saw an opportunity to switch sides and find a more compelling "enemy" to stand against. The final punch in the gut is that she assumes my friends are okay with the betrayal either, just goes around as though nothing happened, as though having betrayed someone and still writing them down as vile and unremorceful even after they apologised to her two times was nothing. Yeah, why? If a person failed to meet her personal mark of forgiving, tolerating and shrugging off harassment - then they deserve to be backstabbing and thrown to those cultish ableists. That's her logic.

And I just want to vent all this in a sorry effort to remind myself: "See, she is so petty and callous that she doesn't deserve crying and hurting over! People like that are below you, Kat, just forget it and move on!" But in the end, I just can't stop asking myself why. She did not feel like that type of a person. My other mutual also said it was not expected, since she had that 'wise', thoughtful exterior all along and acted as though she was trustworthy. At this rate I was right in my accusation of her being brainwashed, I guess... The only thing I was wrong is the TIME when it happens.

#/vent #personal #honestly she is arguably worse than other two #they are just bad people from the get go #but she? she CHOSE to be bad. like. deliberately.#that's worse.

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declanowo · 5 months

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Weekly Random (horror) Film - Bonus Review! - Krampus

8/12/23

I have a distinct memory of when I was younger; I sat at christmas, lamenting on a classmate of mine, he was the so-called “bad kid”, however, I couldn’t name anything in particular he ever did at that time that stands out to me. Regardless, I thought about all the presents I had, and considered the piles of coal he must have received - it was distressing to say the least, because what use would he have with coal, and furthermore, did he really deserve such a terrible lot? However, I later learnt he did not receive coal, shocking I know, but learning this brought an unusual sense to me, the concept of punishment made sense to me, yet it made me feel so awful. Still, I struggle with such thoughts, of retribution, punishment and how far one should go, however I always manage to arrive back at a single image in my mind, of that boy riding around on a bike, instead of cradling a sack of coal. The dichotomy of wanting punishment, but hating watching it is so integral to me, and had I known about the titular subject of today’s film then, I imagine it would have shaped me similarly into a fearful person.

My experience watching Krampus was delightful - my boyfriend and I were wrapped up warm, shielded from the bitter chill of the winter wind outside, drinking tea and having a great time. Later that same day, he quickly brushed past a Christmas market, and it further created this sense of winter within my mind - as a child, I had loved Winter so much, envisioning it in my mind as a flurry of snow, coating the frosty sky, all the while the sun continues to shine to ensure we can see. Now, I see a more cynical, albeit, realistic depiction of Winter - the sky is eternally midnight, filled with clouds not of snow, but of drizzling rain, wind blows relentlessly, yet, I still love this. The market was an embodiment of that, however, the warm glow of the lights is what makes it so much more festive, creating what could be misery, and bringing hope to it. That and of course, I was with someone I love. All this is to say that I loved Krampus, and the company and day itself aids this tremendously.

Much like my last bonus review, I did sit down and try to do some research, however much of it was not publicly, or readily, available to me; I enjoy making the bonus reviews a bit more slender anyway, they are of course extras. Besides, there was enough to learn about the titular entity, who has a really interesting history! So while this review will likely be somewhat unstructured, I do intend to make it an enjoyable read!

Krampus was directed by Micheal Dougherty, a director and screenwriter who I know best for Trick ‘R Treat, and Urban Legends: Bloody Mary, a film weirdly sandwiched between two huge Marvel movies. It follows a family as they settle in for Christmas, however when the hope of a child dwindles, the pagan deity arrives.

For this review, I’ll move through the film chronologically! Starting with the opening vignette, which essentially sums up the film's messages and ideas. To start, it focuses closer on the comedy aspect of the film, which is often its main goal! I used to hate horror/comedies, but I think this just came from me watching 2000s movies, which were just mean. While the opening does set up a later argument, it also highlights the contrast between the supposed cheer and happiness of Christmas, and the rampant consumerism and fighting that is dominant. Nobody here is happy, a stark juxtaposition to the music, and festive font. I think it perfectly embodies the problems that summons Krampus!

This film's main family is endearing, the extended family is where things grow annoying, a purposeful act to demonstrate that Christmas joy of spending time with people you secretly can’t stand. I enjoy the main nuclear family, with them all having faults, but never growing overbearing. They feel realistic, they argue, but they still love each other. I was reminded a lot of Home Alone to this end, a film I do not care enough about to bring up in every bonus review so far, but alas. Their bond is the cement of the film, and therefore, I’m glad they are so likeable! This shines through in our protagonist, and catalyst, Max, played by Emjay Anthony, and of course, Toni Collette as Sarah.

Moving onto the inlaws quickly, none of them stood out to me as enjoyable or fun, unless Omi is counted! Yet, they never grated on me enough to stop enjoying the film, I think an issue I have with a lot of 2000’s horror, and media in general, is to make us want a character to die, they make them entirely insufferable, they make us beg for their death, hoping that this will make it all the more sweet. Yet, all this does is make me hate the film - when all the audience wants is the release of these characters' deaths, there is nothing more to enjoy. Here, it works better, once again, they feel real, annoying sure, but with genuine problems that can be empathised with. Their scenes of terror were enjoyable, however I wanted them to escape this peril, because they feel so human.

I found the dinner sequence to be the accumulation of this irritable feeling, where the twins are such large bullies, that it makes it difficult to ever return to their sides. Of course, it comes from insecurity, but they are never given a redemption in any way, whereas some other characters are. While I did enjoy the realism again, having a dysfunctional family attempt to force a pleasant evening, wow does it become tough to watch when this poor child is so upset.

Although mostly a single set film, the following sequence where Beth leaves into the blizzard sets up nicely the concept of how the house is not at all safe, yet the safest place they can be. In a sense, they are already trapped inside a snowglobe, unable to escape from the oncoming creature.

This leads to our first meeting with Krampus, who is such a fun villain - shown here through silhouettes as he jumps from roof to roof, his presence is instantly felt. He is half goat, half demon, his historical role being to punish bad children. I find his links to Satan, through the use of the goat, so interesting, especially because the dichotomy becomes demon vs magical human. Regardless, the design in the movie is incredibly cool and memorable, blending the more traditional goat design, to incorporate more of Santa’s imagery, such as making him hunched to provide bulk and wearing his garments. Overall, he makes the film as good as it is. He is terrifying and scared me when I saw the poster in 2015, merely the hand was enough to send a shiver down my spine.

Here, we are also introduced to the first of Krampus’ helpers, all of whom I will cycle through now! Firstly, we see the Jack in a Box, his initial appearance is scary because of what we don’t see as Beth is killed beneath a van. The whole sequence is one of my favourites in the film, honing in on how cold it is, and the isolation that the family are experiencing. However when we later see the creature’s full appearance, he is similarly terrifying for the opposite reasons - his mouth is segmented, fangs raised from its gooey gums. This is my favourite of his helpers, and is somewhat evocative of a creepypasta to me!

Cycling through them quicker, the dark elves are an enjoyable and scary twist, and work perfectly alongside Krampus, they are instantly recognisable, and their sound design makes them even more enjoyable! I don’t mind the gingerbread people, but they were definitely the least interesting to me - I do enjoy how all of the creatures work with the central christmas theme, but these guys didn’t do much for me! In contrast, both the cherub and bear are more great twists, that make them conventionally creepy - the bear especially reminds me of all the cool horror themed bears you can find online, with huge bloody mouths lined with fangs, which is super cool and I have always wanted one! The scene where they all invade the house later is amazing, and another favourite of mine - likely, this comes from the amped up horror, the blending with Christmas is such an enjoyable aesthetic that the film carries perfectly!

By now I have moved all over the place, so I will try to steer back on course for the final things I have to discuss! I found the animated sequence to be a delight, giving the appearance of stop-motion (which is by far my favourite medium!). Also, it just feels christmassy, it’s a style I think several adverts have adopted, so maybe this is why! All of this is perfect, from the narration to the animation; especially, I adore the shadows of Krampus!

From here, we arrive at the aforementioned invasion sequence, forcing the family out of the house as a result of the snow piling inside from the frost - the house feels so central to the film, and I think that it embodies a spirit of Christmas that exists, it is so common that the holiday is symbolised through a warm house, I think that the destruction of it shows the family being torn apart entirely, demonstrating how such an act is far worse than spending a day with annoying inlaws.

Finally, I shall discuss the ending, which is bittersweet, it’s a perfect encapsulation of the film, I think. The perfect, happy moment is suddenly cut short by the audience's realisation that they are trapped within a snow globe. What this means, and shall entertain for the family is difficult to tell, but this only makes it more scary - whether or not this can be deemed a happy ending is similarly unclear, which also adds to the ending, making it so much more interesting! I adore it, and that moment was so fun to watch unfold!

Krampus feels like such a perfect Christmas movie, I love the way it blends horror and the holiday seamlessly, also done in Trick ‘r Treat, which I undoubtedly prefer, however the films are so very different that it’s difficult to compare them! Once again, this film means more to me having watched it with my boyfriend, however that is to say that whenever I watch it, or think about it, I shall have a happy memory captured, a snowglobe of a lovely time that I can return to eternally. That image alone would be enough to make Krampus content.

8/10

#horror #horror movies #creative writing #literature #reviews #review #halloween #horror film #horror movie #movie review #christmas #holidays #festive #xmas #christmas horror #christmas movies #holiday horror #krampus

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maemelany · 3 years

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Fixing the Broken (Part 3)

Summary: People say that time heals all wounds. In your case, time made it worse.

You’ve been married to Chris for five years, but his absence spoke louder than his words. After 5 years of trying, you’ve decided that you’ve had enough, and you left him. But Chris doesn’t want to let you go; he doesn’t want to give up on your marriage.

Would he be able to fix what you consider irretrievably broken?

Warnings: Angst, tiny tiny mentions of sex

Word Count: 2.6 k

Pairing : Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: I hope you like this one. I can’t wait for your reactions about this one. I can only imagine what @fallenoutofrose will have to say about Chris’s behavior in this part 😂

Enjoy and let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list

Love x Mae ❤️

Masterlist

Prologue , Part 1 , Part 2 Part 4

“It is better to hope than despair.”

-Lailah Gifty Akita,

You finally knocked. After standing in front of that door for what felt like an eternity now, you finally knocked. Your legs felt like jelly, and your heart was pounding in your chest. You were feeling more anxious than the day of your wedding, and the irony of the situation made you almost laugh. Almost, but not quite. You were about to when Lisa opened the door.

She was as radiant as ever, a big, warm smile on her face. Honestly, it surprised you. You knew that she knew. Now that Chris was back, there was no way Lisa wouldn’t know what was going on. That man told everything to his mother.

Lisa let you in, and you followed her into the living room. The house felt like a second home to you. Actually, it felt more like home than your place with Chris sometimes. There was always something happening here. When you left your house, you almost came here. But you felt like it was unfair to Chris. Lisa was his mom, and her house was his safe place, not yours.

“Chris told me everything. How are you holding up honey, are you okay?” Lisa asked you

Her kindness broke your last defence. Her genuine, motherly concern about you made you feel guilty that you didn’t come to her sooner. Lisa had always been so kind to you, taking you in as her own daughter from the moment Chris introduced you as his girlfriend. Your lips started to shiver as you were trying your best to hold the tears back.

“Oh, honey… please don’t cry.”

She took you in her arms, and you broke into tears. It may have lasted five minutes or an hour; you weren’t sure. These days you were crying so much it was just the new normal.

Your best friend had been a great support to you, but she had to. She was your best friend. Chris’s mom was supposed to be on his side, defending her son’s best interest. Not yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me things were that bad, Y/N?” Lisa asked you

You looked away. Somehow ashamed that you thought Lisa would reject you.

“I … I don’t know. Chris is your son, and…”

“And you’re my daughter. Y/N, you’re family. We all love you!” Lisa said, taking your hands into hers. “Plus, I bet some even love you more than Chris,” Lisa joked.

You laughed, feeling a little bit more at ease now. “I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Don’t be. I am sorry we didn’t see anything,” Lisa said

You shook your head. It wasn’t their fault. They weren’t responsible, Chris and you were. It was your marriage, after all.

Lisa asked for your version of the story, and you could tell she was trying to be as partial as possible. You hated that you had to put her in that situation. She cringed when you told her Chris didn’t notice you were gone until he went to Carly’s place.

“That boy…” she said, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, a sad expression on her face.

“It’s not your fault Lisa. Actually, it’s not even Chris’s fault. I can’t force him to stay married to me,” You said

“You think he feels… forced to be with you?”

You shrugged. “I mean… why else would he be as far away from me as he possibly could?”

Lisa watched you closely. You could tell she wanted to say something but was refraining herself.

“You two should talk. Maybe you could solve this…” Lisa said

“I don’t think us talking would do any good. We tried that yesterday; you should have seen how shi… messy it was”

Lisa tried to hide her smile when you stopped yourself from swearing. “If talking to each other doesn’t work, maybe you should try talking to someone else…” Lisa suggested

You frowned. You didn’t see how Chris and you talking to Lisa would help. Yes, Lisa was a wise woman, but as she said herself, she was your mother both. Knowing Chris, he would take it personally if his mother called his shit out about his marriage. You still remembered what happened the last time Lisa agreed with you instead of Chris. He was salty for days.

“I love you, Lisa, but I don’t think talking to you would fix this,” you gently said

Lisa laughed. “I wasn’t talking about me, honey. I meant a therapist.”

“A therapist? Like couples therapy, you want us to go to couples therapy?” you asked.

Lisa nodded. You never thought about that.

“I thought couples therapy was supposed to happen before couples decide they want a divorce.”

“Not necessarily. It could help you express your feelings in a safe place. And, you decided you wanted a divorce, honey. I don’t think Chris agrees with you.”

You frowned. If Lisa thought the warm smile would help you accept the subtle criticism easier, she was wrong. You were even worse than Chris when it came to being right.

You loved being right and hated being told that you could have done something wrong, especially in that very particular situation. You were right. You had to be right. It would kill you to realize you were wrong and left the man you loved for nothing.

“Do you think I went too far…” You said, the tears resurfacing

“Oh no,” Lisa immediately told you. “You did what was right for you, and that’s the most important. I can’t even imagine how you must have felt, alone in that big house.”

A huge weight lifted off your shoulders. Secretly you thought people didn’t understand you. You were married to Chris Evans, living what they thought should be a fairy tale.

Even though you and Chris were what people called a private couple, he would sometimes tell things about you or express his love for you when he was being interviewed. When those things happened, your friends would always send you messages, reminding you how lucky you were.

They didn’t know how far they were from the truth. Most of the time, you were alone in your bed when you were reading their messages. Alone and lonely.

People think they know things about your life, your marriage, but they don’t. They would have to walk in your shoes, feel what you daily felt to actually understand.

When you left Lisa’s house, she had convinced you. She made you realize that even though things between You and Chris were pretty bad, your relationship was worth saving, or at least you owed it to Chis and yourself to try. Even if therapy didn’t work, you still owed it to yourself and Chris to end things the most peacefully possible. Before being your husband, he was your friend. You needed at least that friendship to be saved.

Instead of going back to your best friend’s place, you went home. It wasn’t even a conscious decision. You started driving and found yourself taking the way home. Instead of turning back, you continued. You realized waiting wouldn’t help. You’d waited so much already, now was the time to act.

As you opened your front door, you felt submerged with that particular sent. You were home. Despite what you told Chris yesterday, this house was your home. You chose almost every piece of furniture.

Chris was more than happy to leave it to you; he didn’t understand why you needed so many pillows on the bed or a particular shade of beige for the dining chairs. Instead of explaining everything, you would just ask for his opinion when it was absolutely necessary. Plus, it was hard to decorate a house via FaceTime.

Thinking of it now, decorating this house helped you manage your loneliness for some time. You were proud of every single room, from your bedroom to the laundry room.

You found Chris and Dodger sleeping on the sofa. You weren’t surprised. The couch was probably Chris’ favorite spot in the whole house. You had your office, and he had this sofa.

You were tempted to lay next to them. They felt like home. But you didn’t want to wake Chris up. If there was one thing Chris was lacking, it was sleep. You also noticed the dark circles under his eyes yesterday, and the current situation was not helping his sleep deprivation.

When you noticed a few takeout boxes in the room, you knew exactly how to occupy yourself. Chris used to love your cooking. Your skills were definitely better than his, but as your husband liked to say, one cannot be good at everything. You smiled when you remembered how you would tease him about his horrible cooking skills, and he would remind you how messy you were.

Even now, after thirty minutes of cooking, the countertop looked more like a war zone than a kitchen island.

“It smells good.”

You jumped. You didn’t see Chris coming, and now you had tomato sauce all over your blouse.

“Chris! You scared me!” you said, looking at him.

He was leaning against the opposite wall, observing you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

You looked at him with more attention. He looked less tired. You wanted to say something, but Dodger was all over you before you could open your mouth.

“Hey, baby. I missed you so much,” you said to your dog.

Dodger started to bark. The high pitch he usually reserved to Chris when he was coming back home after long periods of absence.

It broke your heart.

“He missed you,” Chris finally said

You didn’t know what to reply. You didn’t want to say something that would create a hostile environment for the rest of the evening.

“I need to change myself,” you said, showing your now stained blouse.

You were gone before Chris could even blink. Once in your bedroom, you found everything exactly as you left it. You rolled your eyes, mentally asking yourself how Chris could be so organized. And then you realized he wasn’t that organized. It wasn’t just the bedroom that was exactly as you left it. The walking closet and the bathroom were too.

Chris wasn’t sleeping in your room, and you wondered why.

When you went downstairs, you found him making the table.

“I thought I’d made myself useful,” Chris said when he saw you.

You smiled. That was the kind of evening you used to dream about. You and your husband casually sharing dinner together.

Chris was very attentive, serving you wine, asking you if you needed anything. You wished you could be so relaxed. You wished you weren’t about to drop a massive bomb on him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping in our bedroom?”

Your question surprised you both.

“I… I don’t know. It doesn’t seem… right.”

You looked at each other, your eyes saying more than a thousand words. Again, you were reminded how easy it would be to just give in, to just come back. But it would be a temporary relief, one you would only enjoy until he’d decide to leave again.

It took you the whole dinner, and filling the dishwasher, and watching the first part of a show to gather enough courage and tell Chris you two needed to see a therapist.

It happened before he was about to kiss you. You could feel it in his eyes, the way they became darker, and the way his body leaned closer to yours. You could feel your heart beating faster and the room suddenly feeling hotter than before.

You wanted to give in, you missed his touch, you missed his kisses. You missed sex with your husband. But you knew it would make things more difficult. Sex had never been a problem in your relationship. Actually, it made you forget about the problems. You couldn’t remember how many times you were on the verge of telling Chris you weren’t happy with the situation and totally forgot about it the minute his hands were on you.

“No,” you said, standing up.

You started walking around the room, trying to compose yourself. It was frustrating how all your perfect, well-prepared plans got ruined the second you were around Chris.

“Y/N,” Chris whispered.

“No, we are not having sex!” you half screamed.

You needed to convince not only Chris but yourself that you were not having sex tonight. But looking at him, looking at him, looking at you made things very hard, literally and figuratively speaking.

“We’re going to therapy,” you quickly said

Chris blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

You cleared your throat. “I said, we are going to therapy.”

You could tell he was surprised. You didn’t know if it was good or bad.

“Y/N… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

It was your turn to be surprised. You opened your mouth but closed it immediately after. You wanted Chris to explain himself before jumping to conclusions.

“With how public we are and…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, anger quickly possessing your whole body.

“Y/N…”

“You’re worried about your reputation? Do you even want us to be together, Chris?” you asked him.

“I’m not worried about my reputation. I’m worried about… our privacy.”

“Chris, therapists have a duty of confidentiality,” You said, raising your voice.

“Well, you won’t believe how many people would break it given the right sum,” he screamed back.

You wanted to scream, anything that would release the frustration you were feeling inside.

“Do you even want to fix this?” you ask, as calmly as you were able to

Chris huffed. “I was begging you to come home with me yesterday. Of course, I want to fix this.”

You crossed your arms. “me coming home right now would not fix things; it would bring us back to this,” you said, throwing your hands up.

“And this is so bad, right?” Chris asked, bitterness in his voice.

“No, this is perfect. This is what I want permanently. It will kill me to come back to this if this is not forever.”

The room went silent. So many emotions went through Chris’s eyes, and you were trying to decode them all.

Chris finally drew a long breath. “I am not going to couples therapy.”

His words stung more than you could have imagined. They also unleashed the silent anger that was rising inside of you since the beginning of that conversation.

But instead of screaming and crying and pleading with Chris, you reached for your handbag. You were done trying to negotiate with him. You were done trying to spare his feelings.

You removed the divorce papers that had been sitting in your bag for days now. You threw them on the coffee table near Chris and waited for him to look at them.

You could see him become very pale, and if you weren’t that angry, you would be worried.

“Are they…” He started

“Yes. Divorce papers. We go to therapy, or you sign them. It’s your choice.”

Chris was startled. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m more than serious. I have a pen if you want to sign now.”

You looked serene, but inside, your heart was dropping lower with every second Chris wasn’t doing anything. You knew you were forcing his hand, but he left you no other choice.

“So, what is it going to be, Chris?”

Chris took the divorce agreement into his hands, and you held your breath. Your heart started beating again when he tore them in half.

He gave you a deadly stare, but at this point, you didn’t care anymore. He could be angry, scream at you, even hate you, as long as it meant you were doing something to try to fix things, you could take it all.

“Text me when you find a therapist you can trust,” you said before taking your bag to leave.

If he thought you’d be the only one sweating for this, he couldn’t be more wrong. It takes two to tango. It was about damn time for Chris to act. Because you were sure that this time feeling sorry or even good sex wouldn’t fix things.

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#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans imagine #chris evans series #chris evans angst #chris evans fandom #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #smut #series #agnst #marvel #fluff #angst #fixingthebroken #part 3

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Prompt 1) NMJ is the son of the concubine, NHS is the son of the legal wife, who had difficulty conceiving because of an old night hunting injury, and picked out a concubine for her husband who was big and strong and healthy as on ox - the strength got passed on, her more even temperament didn't. The legal wife conceived later, with much difficulty and they weren't entirely sure NHS would live at first

ao3

“Are you well?” Nie Mingjue asked Jin Guangyao, his voice stiff, and Jin Guangyao looked at him sidelong, surprised by the question, as well as the fact that Nie Mingjue was talking to him at all.

Normally, he would assume that Nie Mingjue was doing it because Lan Xichen was encouraging him to get along with Jin Guangyao again, but Lan Xichen was in the Cloud Recesses, had been in the Cloud Recesses for quite some time. Officially, he was helping oversee the rebuilding; unofficially he was caring for his brother, who had officially entered seclusion and unofficially was healing from a punishment so grievously terrible that Jin Guangyao was reminded all over again why one could not trust the righteous facades of the wealthy and powerful Great Sects.

Not that he needed much reminding, here in Jinlin Tower…

At any rate, Lan Xichen couldn’t be the reason Nie Mingjue was asking Jin Guangyao about his well-being, and that meant that his stern, grim-faced oldest sworn brother was doing it on his own, for reasons of his own.

Naturally, Jin Guangyao mistrusted that even more.

“Of course, da-ge,” he said with a practiced smile. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, somehow, impossibly, even stiffer than before. “No, I just – I meant – with Jin Zixuan’s death. It must have made it – hard. Here. For you.”

That was a staggeringly perceptive insight, and the fact that it came from Nie Mingjue, who thought ignoring rumors until they went away was a valid strategy, was something of an uncomfortable surprise. Even Lan Xichen hadn’t really thought of Jin Guangyao in the aftermath of Jin Zixuan’s death and the ensuing calamity, with the Nightless City and Wei Wuxian’s final downfall and everything with Lan Wangji taking away his attention; at best, he’d penned a careless letter belatedly expressing that he was sad that Jin Guangyao hadn’t had more of an opportunity to get to know Jin Zixuan better before his untimely demise.

Not even Su She had said anything, taking Jin Zixuan’s death as an unmitigated good – an obstacle out of their way, and nothing more. Easy enough for him to think as sect leader of his own sect, however small.

Not so easy for Jin Guangyao.

Not so easy when Madame Jin’s dislike of him had turned to full-blown maddened hatred, when his father looked at him like filth on his shoe, when they wouldn’t let him anywhere near Jin Ling as if his mere touch were some sort of toxic poison…

“…thank you,” he said cautiously. “I’ve been doing fine.”

Nie Mingjue jerked his head in a nod. “Avoid the sect elders for a time,” he said, and when Jin Guangyao looked at him, he was staring straight ahead, not looking at him at all. “Be careful with what you eat and drink. Some people don’t like to take chances.”

Was Nie Mingjue – Nie Mingjue – warning him about a possible assassination attempt? The man who had barely consented to using spies during wartime, who thought politics could be conducted through above-board dealings, who thought bribery and blackmail were unacceptable crimes? Him?

The world had truly turned upside down.

“I’ll be careful,” Jin Guangyao said, and found to his embarrassment that his tone had unconsciously softened, revealing the sudden fondness he was feeling for no good reason. He could rationalize it as a deliberate move, because allowing Nie Mingjue to do him a favor and sounding touched about it was a good way to get closer to him, to get back through those iron defenses of his. The problem was that it wasn’t a stratagem, not really, and that was dangerous.

Nie Mingjue nodded again, and Jin Guangyao expected him to move on – he and Nie Mingjue might be sworn brothers, but they didn’t chat – but he didn’t. He lingered, instead, clearly wanting to say something, something he was chewing over and not quite able to spit out.

Unusual, for someone who normally prided himself on being straightforward and direct.

“Is there something else?” Jin Guangyao eventually asked when Nie Mingjue didn’t seem to be actually making any progress towards saying anything.

Nie Mingjue grimaced and took a step – off to the side, to a corner of the path that was a little more secluded than most. Interestingly, he didn’t make the amateur mistake of going for one of the obviously secluded alcoves, which of course had all sorts of hiding-holes for eavesdroppers, but rather ended up in one of the few areas where the architecture created a natural dead space for sound.

Intrigued, Jin Guangyao followed him there.

Once they were there, Nie Mingjue still looked awkward – he was still refusing to look directly at Jin Guangyao, as if they wouldn’t be talking in hushed tones in a secluded corner if he didn’t admit that that was what they were doing – but finally said, “Would it help or hurt if I said anything?”

Jin Guangyao frowned a little, not following. “Said anything?”

“About the inheritance,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jin Guangyao’s eyes widened. “You’re the only recognized son left; you ought to be named heir until Jin Ling is full grown. But that doesn’t mean people will let that happen so easily.”

Jin Guangyao would have been less surprised if Wen Ruohan had spontaneously resurrected himself from the dead and performed a brothel fan dance on the front lawn of Jinlin Tower.

It had not even remotely entered his calculations that Nie Mingjue would be anything but an obstacle to his ambitions for power over the Lanling Jin sect – at best, he had hoped only that Nie Mingjue would be convinced that Jin Zixuan’s death was wholly Wei Wuxian’s fault and not find some way to blame Jin Guangyao for it, and that he wouldn’t immediately suspect that Jin Guangyao of scheming to kill Jin Ling and take the whole thing for himself.

He’d never dreamed that Nie Mingjue might think that he deserved it.

“I’ll support you, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, as if it were obvious, when it was the least obvious thing that had ever happened in Jin Guangyao’s life. “But I’m not actually any good at this sort of thing, you know – playing politics with the internal affairs of other sects. I don’t want to make things worse for you just because I don’t know what the right approach is, especially not here.”

Jin Guangyao stared at him.

Nie Mingjue, not hearing a response, glanced at him and scowled. Lowering his voice still more, he said, “Think on it carefully. Sect Leader Jin hates me personally, but my Nie sect isn’t nothing, not even in Lanling. It’s still more so after the war, after all those battles I won to save the Jin sect’s rotten – that is, after everything I did to help. Even if your father doesn’t like it, he still has to give my sect face, and his sect elders know it. You’re a war hero, and my sworn brother; if a public stand on my part would help make things easier for you…”

“I’ll think on it carefully,” Jin Guangyao assured him, his mind already racing over the possibilities. Nie Mingjue underestimated himself – he wasn’t just a war hero, he was the war hero, the righteous and unyielding war god that had won an impossible war for the rest of them. He was Jin Guangshan’s chief rival for the position of Chief Cultivator and he wasn’t even trying to get the position; he probably wanted nothing more than to go home to Qinghe and sleep for three months and yet practically every single sect leader that Jin Guangshan felt out on the subject invariably dropped his name as the possible alternative. Assuming he was serious, and Nie Mingjue was always serious, his public support would make it extremely tricky for Jin Guangshan to refuse to name Jin Guangyao as the official heir, even if he tried to claim that this was a private matter. The rest of the sect would force him to do it, even against his will.

Moreover, Lan Xichen would follow Nie Mingjue’s lead, or at least could be easily encouraged into doing so. He was so distracted with his brother, if Jin Guangyao went to him and pointed out that Nie Mingjue thought it was a good idea to stand behind him…no, he wouldn’t even need to do that. Everyone knew how much better his relationship with Lan Xichen was in comparison to Nie Mingjue; if Nie Mingjue stood behind him, everyone would assume that Lan Xichen did as well, and then he would have two of the remaining Great Sects backing his right to inherit – even if only in the interim – the seat of power for Lanling Jin, as the only recognized son…

Except, of course, Jin Guangshan had already accounted for that.

Jin Guangyao’s eyes flickered. Perhaps there was a way to test Nie Mingjue’s sincerity.

“There is one issue,” he said, and Nie Mingjue turned his head to look at him directly. “My father has – decided to bring home another son.”

Nie Mingjue stared at him. “Another son?”

“From a minor noble family of commoners –”

“He brought one home now?” Nie Mingjue said, and he sounded angry. He always sounded angry, but this time he sounded angry on Jin Guangyao’s behalf, something he hadn’t been since Langya, since Qinghe, and it thrilled Jin Guangyao’s heart to hear it. He’d always secretly enjoyed having someone as physically and politically strong as Nie Mingjue in his corner, the power of it going to his head; it was even more so now, when he was finally in a position where he could really use it. “That’s a deliberate insult to you, and for what? Some untried boy…”

One who isn’t the son of a prostitute, Jin Guangyao thought, but of course Nie Mingjue wouldn’t think about it that way. He never had, not from the beginning.

“Father is of course within his rights to bring home whoever he wishes, for the best interest of the sect,” he said diplomatically, and Nie Mingjue huffed and rolled his eyes. “Da-ge…”

“It doesn’t change anything,” Nie Mingjue said curtly. “Think on it, and tell me what you want me to do.”

With that he turned away and strode off towards the main hall, a scowl firmly on his face.

Jin Guangyao watched him go, pleased – Nie Mingjue was really too easy to manipulate, if you knew him well enough. He’d keep quiet during the opening ceremony of the conference, but if he was really sincere about standing up for Jin Guangyao’s right to inherit, there would be no way he’d be able to refrain from expressing his views to Jin Guangshan at some point later that evening.

Sure enough, Nie Mingjue seethed throughout most of the complex and beautiful ceremony Jin Guangyao had arranged to show off Lanling Jin’s wealth and strength and taste – all wasted on him, naturally, so Jin Guangyao didn’t take any offense – and through dinner as well, and afterwards found a reason to make his way over to Jin Guangshan. After a few words, they both retreated to one of the receiving rooms.

Jin Guangyao made his excuses very shortly thereafter and slipped away: the receiving rooms, at least, were not dead spaces, and he knew all the ways to listen in there.

By the time he arrived, they were already arguing.

“ – what business of yours?” Jin Guangshan was snarling. “These are my private family matters!”

“He is my sworn brother,” Nie Mingjue said in return, his voice stiff as always. It was interesting to Jin Guangyao that he still didn’t seem happy about admitting that fact; he was still resentful of Jin Guangyao, still suspicious, and yet he supported him regardless, just because he thought it was his right. Ah, the foolishness of good people! “When you refuse to give him face, that becomes my business.”

Jin Guangshan spat, audibly. Jin Guangyao, still carefully moving into a position where he could see as well as hear, hoped he’d aimed it at the floor and not at Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Jin Guangshan said. “I suppose I really shouldn’t be so surprised to find you supporting him, should I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nie Mingjue demanded, and Jin Guangyao wondered the same.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Jin Guangshan said. Jin Guangyao had never heard his father sound so cruel – and he had quite a bit to compare it to. “They do say like calls to like, don’t they?”

Jin Guangyao had just finally gotten into view position, which meant he was just in time to see all the blood drain out of Nie Mingjue’s face as if he’d just been stabbed.

“You may have won some merit,” Jin Guangshan said, and he was smirking now. “But they do say blood always tells – or did you think that people would forget that it’s your brother that’s the true-born son, and you merely a concubine’s get?”

He was what?

Nie Mingjue was –

It was impossible. Surely, it was impossible.

And yet Nie Mingjue was not denying Jin Guangshan’s words, was not getting angry at the slander, was standing there stiff-backed and grim-faced –

“I still remember how disappointed your father was when his beautiful, beloved, delicate wife couldn’t get a pregnancy to last the term,” Jin Guangshan said, picking up one of the jars of wine and taking a swig. “He didn’t want to take a concubine at all, thought it’d be disrespectful to his wife, but what could he do? He was the sole heir, with an obligation to continue his lineage…they bought your mother for the breeding, like bringing in a cow for the farmyard bull.”

He laughed.

Nie Mingjue said nothing.

“Healthy, I think he said about her. Healthy and big, good hips for bearing children, good tits to nurse them – that was all he cared about, squeezing a few sons out of her, and she didn’t even manage that. Ran away after the first one, didn’t she? You ever figure out where she went, whether she ended up married to some dumb farmer as illiterate as her, or else lying on her back in a brothel? Dead in a beggar’s grave somewhere, perhaps?”

Nie Mingjue said nothing.

“No, it’s no surprise: of course you’d back the little son of a whore for the position of rightful heir, as if letting him take it would help cover up for the way you stole your own brother’s –”

“Watch your words,” Nie Mingjue said, his heavy voice slicing through the air like a saber.

“Still pretending it wasn’t theft, then?” Jin Guangshan laughed again, pacing the room back and forth, prowling like some sort of beast. “You were supposed to step down when he was ready – you had to swear never to have children, never to marry, all so you could warm the sect leader seat until he was grown up and ready to take it himself. But a weakling wastrel like that, he’s never going to be ready, is he? Very clever of you. I bet your sect elders hadn’t thought of you getting around it like that.”

“You dare –”

“Oh, I dare! And I’d dare more, if you think you can push me around!” Jin Guangshan bared his teeth. “Let me tell you now, Sect Leader Nie, if you dare make a public statement of support for Guangyao, I’ll remind the whole world that you’re no better than him, that you ought to be one of the Nie sect’s servants, not its sect leader –”

“Go ahead.”

Jin Guangshan stopped.

“Go ahead,” Nie Mingjue said again, stepping forward, and Jin Guangyao had never actually seen him purposefully use his height against someone, wield it like a weapon to remind the other party which of them was the more terrifying. “I’ve already had half a dozen public arguments with Huaisang about the fact that he needs to take the role of Sect Leader; everyone in my sect knows that he’s the one who keeps refusing. Do you really think everyone is like you? Scrabbling for every scrap of power you can get, like a rat in the rubbish bin?”

Jin Guangshan took an involuntary step backwards as Nie Mingjue continued to advance.

“When there are those who speak against you, you must do so well that they have no choice but to shut their mouths,” Nie Mingjue said, and it was the very same words he had spoken in encouragement to Jin Guangyao, all those years ago when they had first met. At the time, and thereafter, Jin Guangyao had thought him naïve, of not knowing of which he spoke. “Tell me, Sect Leader Jin, if you go out and spew your poison to your sycophants, do you really think any but the most loyal and brainless will open their mouths to condemn me now? Now, when I’ve just won the cultivation world a war, when I saved Lanling Jin a dozen times or more? Do you really think people will remember my mother instead of my saber?”

“You’d be amazed what people remember,” Jin Guangshan said, even if his voice was weaker, more desperate than it had been before. Less mighty and more pathetic than before, as if Jin Guangyao were suddenly seeing him in a brand new light: seeing him as what he was, as a man who would never looked beyond a person’s birth, no matter what their merits. “In the end, public arguments or not, you were the one who raised Nie Huaisang, now a good-for-nothing, a waste, and you sit in his throne, managing his Nie sect. People will remember that! Your sect will still lose face, be dishonored!”

“Fine. Then I’ll just kill you,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jin Guangshan gaped at him. “Why not? You’re right. To protect my brother’s birthright, I vowed never to have children, never to marry; the only ambitions in my life were to allow Huaisang to live well as he grew older and to avenge my father, and I’ve accomplished both. Even if they execute me for your murder, what’s it to me? What will I have lost?”

Jin Guangshan’s mouth moved open and closed, mute in his shock, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him.

Nie Mingjue’s lips twisted into a sneer of his own.

“For once in your life, Sect Leader Jin, just do the right thing,” he said, sounding tired, and Jin Guangyao felt something loosen inside of him that had gone inexplicably frozen and pained at the idea of Nie Mingjue breaking all those morals and principles he always seemed to hold so dear.

It was strange. Not a day earlier, Jin Guangyao would have sworn that he would’ve liked nothing more than to see Nie Mingjue pushed too far, forced down into the muck and mud that the rest of them trudged their way through, and now that he saw a hint of it, he’d never wanted anything less.

“Name Meng Yao your heir until Jin Ling is grown,” Nie Mingjue continued. “Reap the benefits of the alliance he brings with him and have us all honor you as an elder, if that’s what you want. But playing games like this…I’d say it’s beneath you, but I’d need a shovel to get that deep. So don’t think about it. Just do it. Or I’ll make you.”

He left, Jin Guangshan still gaping after him. It wasn’t long before he finally started moving, throwing around expensive teacups and furnishings and shouting for servants to bring him a drink and a whore, even though it was early; Jin Guangyao returned to the party, knowing there would be nothing more for him to learn, not when his father was in a mood like that.

Later that night, when the party was over and all cleaned up, he went to the quarters assigned for their guests from the Nie sect and was unsurprised to see a light still lit within the one assigned to the sect leader.

He knocked, and a familiar voice beckoned him to enter.

Nie Mingjue was dressed in a sleeping robe, but he was at his desk, writing a letter; he’d clearly been unable to sleep. He looked up when Jin Guangyao entered.

“What?” he asked, short and sharp and rude as always.

These days, Jin Guangyao usually planned out his encounters with Nie Mingjue in advance, hoping to minimize awkwardness and achieve his goals without too much of a scolding. He’d done that at the very beginning of knowing him, only to rapidly give up during his time at Qinghe – Nie Mingjue was both predictable and yet somehow an utter mystery, and it was easier to just go with the flow, adapt to the circumstances, than it was to plan in advance. Only after he’d left did he start planning once again.

He wasn’t planning now.

“Your mother,” he said, and Nie Mingjue barked a laugh, reaching up with a hand to rub at his eyes.

“Did your father tell you?” he asked. “Or did you just listen in?”

Jin Guangyao shrugged, and Nie Mingjue for once did not seem inclined to demand an answer.

“Is it true?” he asked instead, even though he already knew. “That she was…”

Like mine.

Not exactly like, of course. Jin Guangshan wouldn’t have hesitated to call Nie Mingjue the son of a whore directly if he thought he could get away with claiming it was merely fact, and had managed to imply as much nonetheless. Jin Guangyao’s mother’s shame could never be washed away, not in his lifetime; Nie Mingjue’s birth, being merely low, was not the same.

And yet.

“Oh, it’s true,” Nie Mingjue said mirthlessly. “Right down to the fact that they all but bought her based on how fertile she looked, for all that my father later pretended it wasn’t that, and the fact that she ran away.”

Jin Guangyao blinked. If he was playacting, he might have bitten his lip, averted his eyes, and he still considered doing it, but for the moment he was still feeling too off-balance to really commit to it. “Is she – still alive?”

Nie Mingjue shrugged.

“Have you looked for her?”

“I’ve been sect leader for over a decade,” he said, which wasn’t a denial. “If she wanted to find me, she knows where I am.”

That was a good point, Jin Guangyao supposed.

“Was it hard?” he asked, and Nie Mingjue frowned, clearly not understanding the question. “For you, when it was you. Was it hard to convince them to let you inherit?”

Nie Mingjue’s eyes slid half-shut in pained memory. “Yes.”

Jin Guangyao nodded, and went to sit down next to Nie Mingjue, who allowed it, returning to his work. He didn’t say anything.

It was rather atypical for Jin Guangyao – he was always thinking of something to say, when it came to Nie Mingjue, trying to bridge the gap between them with clever words. Perhaps it was only that the gap had shrunk, or had never been as large as he had thought.

After a while, Nie Mingjue said, “You know I wish you were better than you are,” and Jin Guangyao looked at him sidelong. “But in the end, you’re my brother. Isn’t that what matters?”

“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said, and there was that uncalled-for fondness again. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

#mdzs #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #jin guangshan #my fic #my fics #alternative backstory #dead spaces #jessaramine

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make-me-imagine · 3 years

Text

Late Night Admissions

Prompts: 'As you begin to fall asleep, you feel a gentle kiss pressed to your temple and a blanket draped over you' + 'Fingertips brushing hair from your face' and 'Body warmth as someone holds you against them' Requested by: @twisted-monster

Pairing: Loki x Gen!Neutral Reader

Triggers: None

Words: I wanted to make this longer, but I was only able to get it to 1.9k

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000 Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovyfluxie, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy

*An alternate timeline in which Loki survived Thanos and ended up helping the Avengers defeat him, because why not.

**Little angst, mostly fluff

Part of you hated how your entire being reacted when you so much as heard his name. Heart beat increased to an annoying rate, your hands get sweaty, and you feel a jolt of excitement rocket through your body as butterflies rampage in your stomach.

The other part of you was glad for it. Because it proved to you that the way you felt about him, that the way he made you feel, was real. Whether it was for him or not, still haunted your thoughts.

You wiped your sweaty hands on your pants as you looked around the room, hoping that no one noticed your sudden change in demeanor at the mention of the mischievous God. He and Thor were coming for a visit. It had been just over two weeks since you last saw Loki. His last visit was only known to you, and only for you.

Ever since Loki had helped to fight Thanos with the rest of you, he was now welcome on Earth. Many of the Avengers were cautious around him, just in case he resorted back to wanting to take over Earth. You had been cautious at first as well. But at some point, you and Loki had developed a friendship, which then developed into more. And for the last couple of months, you secretly had been "together". You tried not to think of it as a relationship, because sometimes you doubted how he really felt about you.

Loki was the one who acted secretive around you, as though he wanted no one to know you had something between you. At first you had been unsure of whether you wanted the others to know, but the longer you were with him, you no longer cared how they would react. But still, Loki refused. You often wondered if he was dissatisfied with being with someone from Midgard, maybe he was ashamed of the thought.

At times he would be gentle and kind, funny and generous. And sometimes he would be distant, as though you were only acquaintances, or less. The last time he had been here, he came in secret, and you spent the whole night watching the night sky and talking, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he told you stories of Asgard. And in the moment you felt like he might really care deeply about you, just as deeply as you felt for him. You fell asleep in his arms, and when you woke up, he was gone.

"Tony! Pepper!" Thor bellowed as he entered, greeting the two as they walked towards him. You jumped slightly as you were shaken from your thoughts at his boisterous entry.

"Thor, back so soon?" Tony asked as Pepper nudged his shoulder and smiled at Thor.

"Hello Thor, It's good to see you too, where's Loki?" She asked as she peaked behind Thor.

As she asked this, part of you was afraid he had decided not to come at all. But just as you began to feel disappointed Loki entered the room. His eyes scanned the room, over the others and on to you, where his eyes barely held for a second. Your small faltered before it even graced your face. He at least usually nods his head in acknowledgement to you, or even says your name in greeting with a polite smile, but that was barely more than nothing. You shouldn't have been hurt by that, but you were.

Pushing the thought down, you walked across the room and towards the brothers. Thor grinned at you "Hello Y/n."

"Hi Thor, Loki." You smiled as you greeted them.

When Loki did nothing but hold your gaze casually, you looked back to Thor "Your message never said why you were coming back, nothing's wrong I hope."

"No, no. Well...I'm not quite sure. We are here to speak to Strange. Apparently he has something he wants to discuss with us, a possible Asgardian causing trouble I think."

"And he needs you to deal with it?" You asked curiously.

"We'll see I suppose." He said casually with a slight grudge "We're going there now, but I wanted to say hello. We will return later." He said his voice now merry again, turning he began to leave, Loki followed with no word and barely a look at you, sending a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Feeling Pepper staring at you, you looked at her "What?" You asked cautiously, gaining Tony's attention.

"Was it just me or was Loki acting odd?" She asked.

"Now that you mention it-" Tony broke in "He was much more silent than he normally is, though that's not saying much." He said before turning and walking away.

You met Peppers eyes again and shrugged and she eyed you almost suspiciously before turning "Okay." She said unconvinced "I'll talk to you later then."

"Bye" You said as she began to follow Tony. Looking back at where Loki had been standing you felt a uneasy feeling flowing through your entire being.

- - - - -

After Thor and Loki's departure, you couldn't help but worry something had happened since the last time you and Loki were together. Had he gotten tired of you? Of pretending that he felt anything for you? Was it all just a game?

Countless thoughts troubled your mind, and only a few of them were defending his actions. Defending his disregard of you.

"Y/n." A gentle voice greeted from close behind you making you spin around in alarm at the sudden intrusion of your thoughts.

Seeing Loki standing there, a faint smile on his face, your usual butterflies were replaced with an anxious tightening of your stomach "Loki." You greeted simply.

Walking up to you, he stopped only a few inches away. Reaching down he took your hands gently in his own before bringing them up and pressing a kiss to the back of each of them.

You frowned in confusion at his sudden change, and as he looked at you he saw it clearly "What's wrong?" He asked.

Scoffing lightly you pulled your hands away from him, and you saw a small reaction on his face that seemed to be hurt. But pushing past it you tried to speak boldly "What do you mean? Isn't it obvious? I don't understand how you can move so smoothly from total disregard to- to...this?" You motioned your hands at him. "You acted as though you didn't even care I was in the room earlier, did you seriously think that I wouldn't notice? Or care?"

Loki stared at you with his mouth ajar "I- didn't think about it. I just assumed that you knew I would act...casual around you, as to not show our connection. If they knew." He chuckled lightly under his breath "They would think me....weaker, I think."

You scoffed again and Loki rose his brow at you "Love is not a weakness Loki." You said with obvious hurt in your voice. But as the words left your mouth, and you saw Loki's face change to surprise, you realized what you had said, what you had unintentionally admitted to him, and yourself in part. Quickly you stepped back from him and felt yourself become awkward "I need to go." You said as you quickly walked past him and left the room, leaving behind a somewhat astounded God behind you.

- - - - -

You stared at your curtain covered window, the white lacy fabric allowing you to see the silhouettes and faded lights of the city outside your window. Your last interaction with Loki replaced in your head on a loop. 'I really said "Love" didn't I?' You thought to yourself. You had been afraid to admit it to yourself, that you had fallen in love with him. But it came out so naturally, you must have meant it. You did mean it. You loved him. And that's why his casual disregard of your feelings hurt you so much. Surely he would not feel the same for you.

The more you thought about it, the more you felt yourself finally begin drifting to sleep. You didn't hear your door open and close, but you were aware of the footsteps coming towards your bed. Purposefully soft as they approached. If you were not in such a safe place, you'd be on guard. But even in you tired minded state, you knew who it was.

Instead of waking yourself up to deal with what might come with his presence, you continued to let yourself be taken by your sleepiness. But as you did, you felt a kiss pressed to your temple, and you blanket brought up and draped over you. The soft action caused your heart to beat rapidly, and the sleep you were fighting to take was fading away as his presence became too overpowering.

Finally, you let out a small breath and turned your head a bit further into your pillow, causing a bit of your hair to fall across your face. Speaking quietly out into the darkness of your room "What are you doing here?"

He remained silent for a moment as he reached over, and gently brushed the stray hands of hair from your face and back behind your ears. "You were right-" he began "love is not a weakness." Your heart began to beat heavier in your chest as he spoke gently from behind you, his hand rested gentle on your side. "But I became scared, of...your mortality. Of loving someone I can lose so easily and in what feels like, such a short amount of time. And that scared me more than I wish to think about." So I pushed it away a bit, never letting the others see it. Hoping that I..could stop it, I could take it back. But those were lies I told myself. I don't really want to stop it. I want to cherish it.So I have decided, it is much better to be with you while I can, rather than run from it and not have you at all. So I promise I will no longer run from it, or from you. I will make it my strength. My love. For you."

You never realized they built up, but a tear streamed from your cheek as he spoke. Remaining still you let the fabric of your pillow soak it up. "I was afraid you didn't feel anything for me." You admitted, ad you felt his hand grip your side a bit "I've thought about it too you know. You being immortal, and me not. But I more thought it was because I was human that you did not want me."

Loki brought his face beside yours "No. I want you. And...your humanity is what makes me love you more. You are so kind, and loving and strong, and so...human. I couldn't help but fall for you."

You smiled at this, and Loki pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you could feel the smile he had as well. Leaning back, he adjusted himself so that he was holding you now, his arms wrapped around you and his head resting just above yours. His body heat made you sink into the comfort of your bed easier, and you felt yourself drifting away again.

A sudden thought popped back into your mind just as you were losing yourself to sleep. You mumbled out quietly to him "Will you be gone when I wake up?"

Loki smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the back of your head he then rested it on the pillow "Not this time."

No, not this time. He would no longer flee. He would no longer run from him desire to be with you. From this point on, he would cherish every moment. He would love you as you deserved.

xx End xx

Hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please consider reblogging! :)

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tulsa-trash · 3 years

Text

Book Swap

Request: could you do a modern!pony x reader imagine where you're both in 9th grade and meet at the library, and one day you finally have the guts to ask for his number, so you guys start texting and then you start crushing on him and then you have to figure out how to tell him, so u ask two-bit and johnny for advice

WARNING(S): N/A

You sighed deeply as you began to reread the same sentence in your book for what felt like the twentieth time. It seemed as though you were reading but not even comprehending the words. To be fair, it was impossible to get lost in a book when a familiar cute boy was sitting a table over from you.

Ponyboy Curtis. How does one even begin to describe the amazing human you had the honor of being within five feet of? Unlike most guys in high school, Pony was something special. He was kind and very smart, you knew this because you have English with him. You've never seen someone so into a class before, he also appeared to have an interest in literature, like you. The both of you were nothing but mere acquaintances, and you secretly wished you could change that.

It didn't help that you found him absolutely dreamy. His brown hair was always a little messy, but it still managed to make him even cuter. You always feel your heart skip a beat whenever your eyes would meet his sparkling green ones in the hallways. You'd smile whenever you'd see him laughing with his friends, it showed off his dimples that sunk into his cheeks. Ponyboy Curtis was the boy of your dreams, and the young man was completely oblivious.

Your phone vibrated on the desk you were sitting at. Glancing up from your book, you seen that it was a text from one of your friends. After placing your bookmark in between the pages you unlocked your phone.

Evie: So? Did you talk to him yet?

You rolled your eyes after reading the message, your fingers quickly tapped at the screen as you typed your response.

Y/N: No obviously not. Now leave me alone.

Kathy: Girl go for it! He's a nice kid you said so yourself.

Y/N: Uh nope. Much rather stare at him from afar and not make a fool of myself attempting to talk to him.

Kathy: Well if you don't not only will I embarrass you in front of lover boy, everyone in this library will see me screaming at you and we'll both probably get kicked out.

Y/N: Wait what? How do you know I'm at the library?? Are you here right now???

Kathy: Look over at the fantasy section you nerd. You being you I obviously knew where YOU would be on a Saturday afternoon.

You looked up, eyes widening in shock as you saw your friend hiding behind a bookshelf watching you with a sly grin.

Kathy: Make a move now or I'm coming over there.

With already shaking hands you put your phone in your pocket and grabbed your book. You sent Kathy a pleading look, but all she did was shake her head and point towards Ponyboy violently. Taking in a deep breath, you got up. The chair scraped against the floor, creating a loud noise which made at least five people look up at you... including him.

"Oh god." You mumbled under your breath.

In your peripheral vision you could see Ponyboy's gaze return to his book, taking that as your cue to move you slowly crept to his table. You had made it to the chair directly across from him, he was so caught up in his book he didn't even notice your presence. You smiled softly, his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while his eyes scanned the pages back and forth. You awkwardly cleared your throat, not too loud to disturb others but just enough for him to tear his attention from his book to notice you.

"Oh, hey." Ponyboy said, "Can I help you with somethin'?"

"Um..." Jesus this was going to be way harder than you thought. "W-Would you mind if I sat with ya?"

"Not at all. Go ahead." He sent you a friendly smile as he gestured to the chair you were at.

His smile. Your legs already feel like jello, you could've sworn you were going to collapse right then in there.

"Y/N, right?" He asked as you sat down.

"That's me. And you're Ponyboy."

"Yep, couldn't forget a name like that if you tried." He joked.

You giggled as you opened your book, Ponyboy returned to his. Curiosity got the better of you when you looked back up to see what he was reading.

"Gone With the Wind." You read aloud.

"Have you read it before?" He asked.

You shook your head, "I haven't, but I've heard only good things about it. I saw the movie about a year ago and thought it was great."

"The book is amazing!" He gushed, only to be shushed by the librarian walking by. "This is my fifth time reading it." He told you in a more hushed tone.

You snickered, "Must be really great."

"What ya got there?"

You lifted up your book from the table to reveal the cover to him, his bright eyes scanned the cover.

"The Boy in Striped Pajamas?"

"I know the title seems a bit odd, but trust me this is a good read." You told him, "This being my third time reading it."

"Well what's it about?" He asked.

You went on to tell him about your book, and he went on to tell you all about his. The both of you began to talk about anything and everything, you were beyond happy that things were going well. You were having so much fun you completely forgot about Kathy spying on you, before either of you could realize it two hours had gone by.

You peaked at your phone and cursed under your breath, the lock screen had a reminder that your shift at work was starting in less than thirty minutes.

"I really hate to end this... but I gotta go." You said.

"That sucks." He said disappointedly.

You couldn't help feeling a little giddy inside to see that he was upset you were leaving. While you got up and gathered your things, you remembered that you wanted to get his phone number badly. You just had to figure out a way to get it without making things awkward.

"Hey, Pone?"

He hummed in response.

"What do ya say we swap books... and numbers? Thats only if you want to. I just figured since we read them already and it was cool talk--"

"I'd like that." He stopped your rambling, only to send you a warm smile while doing so.

You blushed as the both of you swapped phones to put in each others information along with handing each other your books. With a final wave goodbye you left the library, your best friend of course followed after you. She interrogated you with thousands of questions and the both of you walked to work, you gladly answered them all in an almost dazed state. You felt as if you were walking on air for the rest of the day, and you couldn't wait to text him later on.

Two weeks had gone by, and let's just say those two weeks have been the best ones of your life. You and Ponyboy had been texting every single day. At first you just talked about each other's books, but then your conversations started evolve to anything and everything. You knew you had liked him before, but your feelings for him have grown drastically. It was beginning to get unbearable holding in how you truly felt, and you weren't sure if you wanted to tell him.

The fear of rejection was one of the main reasons why you've been thinking of just repressing your feelings. Sure, he seemed to like you, but it felt as though he only liked you simply as a friend. Another reason being you were afraid that it would ruin things between the both of you. You had finally become good friends, the last thing you wanted was for everything to end up being awkward all because of you and your silly crush.

After a lot of thinking you decided you needed some advice, and by advice you mean advice thats not only from Kathy. She keeps telling you to go for it, but she doesn't really know Ponyboy well. That's why you got the idea to ask one of his buddies on their opinion. Luckily Pony invited you to watch him and his friends play football. You ceased the opportunity, not only would you be able to watch the boy of your dreams get all sweaty and tuff looking, you could also get one of his friends alone to talk about how you felt.

It was a warm, Sunday morning in Tulsa. The sun was high in the sky and beat down harshly on the group of boys tackling each other in the giant field. You sat under a tree with a notebook in your lap, a cool breeze would rush by every now and then, cooling you off the slightest. You doodled randomness on the blank pages, sketching pictures and honing your writing skills. Every now and then you would glance up and watch the game for a few, sometimes cheering the boys on or laughing when they began to goof off and wrestle each other on the ground.

There was a particular drawing you found yourself enthralled in, as the pencil in your hand smoothly ran across the paper you found yourself sketching a picture of Ponyboy's face. You were so focused you didn't even notice someone come over and take a seat right beside you.

"Nice drawin' you got there." A quiet voice spoke.

You quickly slammed the notebook closed and snapped you head to the right, it was Ponyboy's best friend, Johnny. A tiny smirk was tugging at his lips as he looked at you with one eyebrow raised.

"T-Thanks." You stuttered nervously.

"You like him, huh?" He asked you.

You stood silent as you played with the grass below you, pulling it from the Earth and rubbing it between your fingers. Your gaze was straight ahead watching the game, you were afraid to meet Johnny's gaze that was burning holes into the side of your head.

"Yes..." You hesitated a bit, "I do."

"Does he know?"

"No!" You said hopelessly, "And I'm not sure if I even want him to know."

"Why not?"

"Because he probably doesn't feel the same..." You trailed off.

"Hey now, ya never know." Johnny said.

"What are you two kiddies doin' over here?" A loud voice bellowed.

It was none other than Two-Bit, he staggered over to the both of you before plopping down to your left. He was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead and trickling down his neck.

"You tryin' to make moves on Pony's girl or somethin', John?" Two asked playfully.

Your heart fluttered, 'Pony's girl.'

"No way, man. Trust me." Johnny chuckled.

"Pony's girl?" You repeated to him questioningly.

"Oh yeah! I see the way y'all look at each other I ain't blind."

You let Two's words sink in, was it that obvious that you liked him? He even said that Pony looks at you a certain way as well. Maybe there was a chance he shared your feelings after all.

"You think he likes me or somethin'?" You asked casually.

"Oh I don't think, I know."

You smiled softly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. In the back of your mind you worried that you were getting your hopes up a little too high, but you couldn't help it.

"I like him too." You admitted.

Two-Bit scoffed, "Tell me somethin' I don't know."

"Well... what should I do?"

"Tell him." Two replied.

"I agree." Johnny piped up.

Both nerves and excitement began to bubble up inside you as you got up and gathered your things.

"Where are you off to?" Johnny asked as you began to jog away from them.

"Gotta head home. Tell Ponyboy I'm sorry I had to leave but I'll text him later!"

"See ya later lover girl!" Two-Bit hollered after you while preceding to make kissing noises.

You laughed to yourself and shook your head, "Idiot."

Y/N: Whats up Pone-bone?

Ponyboy: Nothing much lil lady, and yourself?

Y/N: Same. Btw sorry for leaving so soon today, had some things to do.

Ponyboy: It's alright.

Hey what were you, Johnny and Two talking about? They didn't try to tease you or nothin right?

Y/N: Nooo ofc not they were just chattin

But thats actually what I wanted to talk to you about...

Ponyboy: Well... Go on then

Y/N: Okay I'm just gonna say it

I like you

like a lot

Ponyboy: As a friend or?

Y/N: No silly, like more than friends...

Ponyboy: Wait actually?

Y/N: Yes Pony

Ponyboy: Seriously??

Y/N: OMG YES!!

I LIKE YOU A LOT!

... im sorry if it weirds you out

Ponyboy: NO! NO IT DOESN'T.

SORRY

... Just wanted to make sure this isn't a prank or whatever.

But in all seriousness yes, I like you a whole lot.

Y/N: Are you sure?

Ponyboy: Positive doll

Do you wanna grab some milkshakes at the Dingo next weekend?

Y/N: Are you asking me out onna date Curtis?

Ponyboy: Yes, I am ;)

Y/N: Well I would love to :)

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders ponyboy #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fic #the outsiders fluff #the outsiders fandom #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy michael curtis #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis imagine #ponyboy curtis fanfiction #ponyboy fic #modern!ponyboy #ponyboy curtis au #c thomas howell

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years

Note

Hey, I hope you're had a very pleasant birthday and birthday month! If the prompte are still open: Can you do Stony with Tony finally and sorta randomly confessing his love to Steve and Steve only then realizing that what he feels for Tony is romantic love as well?

Hello! Sure thing! Quick note: there’s a change between present and past tense for a flashback, for anyone who doesn’t like that kind of thing

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

“I love you,” Tony says, and Steve doesn’t quite know what to do about that.

He won’t say that he’s thought about it before because he hasn’t. But he won’t say that he’s never thought about it either—because he has, occasionally, glanced at Tony’s ass outlined by his perfectly tailored pants and appreciated the sight, and he has, once or twice, wondered what Tony’s warm, sparkling eyes would look like when hazy with pleasure. But a quick, glancing thought that he immediately moves on from is not the same as being attracted enough to Tony to think about asking him out or anything past that.

And now that he’s faced with that question, he doesn’t know what to say. Is he supposed to thank Tony? Is he supposed to acknowledge his feelings and say that he doesn’t feel the same way? Is he just supposed to ignore what Tony said? This is why he has so much trouble with his dates—he never knows how to act in a way that isn’t awkward. No wonder Natasha recently declared him hopeless after he came back from his last date covered in her sticky drink because he accidentally called her a dame.

“I love you,” Tony says and Steve doesn’t know what to do about that, but as it turns out, he doesn’t have to do anything, because Tony nods immediately afterward, says, “Good talk,” and turns and walks away like he wasn’t expecting an answer—or at least, not one that he would like.

Steve doesn’t know what to do about that either.

“Do you think I’m in love with Tony?” he asks Natasha later that day when they’re relaxing on the couch while some mindless sitcom plays in the background.

Natasha blinks at him and then caps the nail polish she was using and puts it on the coffee table. “Do you think you’re in love with Tony?” she asks carefully.

He frowns at her. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I should just tell you what to think.”

He sighs and takes another sip from his Coke, only to realize that it’s empty. Yeah, that describes his life pretty well. “I’m gonna get another one,” he says, standing up. “Do you want something?”

She shakes her head. It’s not until he’s in the kitchen, grabbing another Coke from the fridge, before she asks, “What brought this on?”

Steve thinks about the vulnerable look on Tony’s face as he said those three words. He probably wouldn’t like it if Steve told Natasha what they’d discussed. Or, well, he’d probably act like it was fine but he’d secretly feel hurt and might put the workshop into blackout mode again. Steve hates it when the workshop is in blackout mode. He doesn’t like that he can’t get to Tony when he’s feeling so terrible that he has to shut himself away. He wants to be there to support him, and he hates it when he’s the one who makes Tony feel like he has to close off the workshop.

“Nothing,” he tells Natasha.

She gets up to come into the kitchen, where she eyes him for a moment and then declares, “Tony finally told you, didn’t he?”

How does she always know?

“How do you always know?”

She smiles enigmatically. “I always know,” she says in that mysterious tone.

Steve glares at her. “Tony told you, didn’t he?”

“Maybe he did and maybe he didn’t.”

“One of these days, you’re going to have to admit that you two are friends.”

“Hmm,” she agrees. “But not today.” She hesitates, watching as Steve starts preparing a ham sandwich. “So Tony told you he loves you and you said?”

“Nothing,” Steve says with a shrug. “JARVIS, do you think it would be a good idea if I took this to Tony?”

“Sir has not expressed an explicit desire to keep you out of the workshop but I believe he would not appreciate you down there at the moment.”

Steve sighs. “Great. Could you send U up here to bring this sandwich down?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

With that taken care of, Steve turns back to Natasha, following her back out to the living room. “I didn’t say anything because Tony didn’t give me the chance. He just took off.”

Natasha is quiet, studying him for a long moment. He knows what she’s thinking, since it’s probably the same thing he thought: that Tony was too afraid to hear the answer to give Steve the chance to respond. Eventually, she asks, “So how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says honestly. “I can’t say I’ve ever thought about Tony like that before but—we act kinda coupley, don’t we?”

Before Natasha can respond, the previously bright sky outside goes dark. There’s a bright lightning bolt right outside the window, followed by the crash of thunder and then a loud rushing sound. It dissipates after a moment, the sky lightening again.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS says, “Thor has returned to the tower.”

The Steve and Tony story goes something like this: instead of going on his planned road trip, Steve returned to the tower the day after the Chitauri invasion to offer his apologies to Tony about what he said on the helicarrier. Somehow—and he’s not sure how, even to this day—he found himself getting wrapped up in the tower repairs with a room of his own on one of the lower floors. And by the time those were done, Tony had apparently also redone some of the apartments near the penthouse as a headquarters for the Avengers. Steve hadn’t been lacking for options after the battle (the Army, in particular, wanted him back) but he’d moved into the tower permanently instead.

He and Tony had clashed a few times in those early days but once Bruce came back from wrapping up his affairs in India and Natasha and Clint left SHIELD to join them, they settled into a bit of a truce.

And over the semi-regular movie nights and the training spars and the late-night conversations after they both couldn’t sleep, that truce became a friendship and before Steve quite realized it, Tony had become one of his best friends. Slowly, Steve found himself being pulled out of the shell he’d withdrawn into after waking in this new century. Tony dragged him to lunch at new and exciting places, places that Steve could never have even dreamed of when he was growing up. They planned missions and training days together. Steve had even gotten adept enough at handling the press with Tony to feel confident accepting interview requests with him.

He hadn’t realized though that Tony had taken it as something more serious though. And now that he does know, he’s not sure what to do about it.

He eventually goes to Bruce, since Pepper is busy dealing with a business merger and Colonel Rhodes is out of town in some undisclosed location (though Steve is certain that Tony knows where). Bruce’s lab isn’t quite the wonderland of light and holograms that Tony’s is, but it’s still impressive to someone who grew up with nothing. Tony makes sure that Bruce has all the latest equipment so the lab is a gleaming marvel of sleek instruments with silver and white colors everywhere. It doesn’t look like the most soothing environment but the speakers pipe out some sort of piano music that Steve vaguely recognizes and there’s a teapot on one counter, keeping whatever Bruce is drinking warm.

Bruce is currently examining something under a microscope. Steve can make out what looks like a purple smear on the slide from where he’s standing in the doorway, but that’s it. Bruce doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet, even though JARVIS announced him, so he waits patiently until Bruce has rolled away from the microscope.

“Bruce, you got a second?” he asks quietly.

“Hey, when did you get here?” Bruce asks, offering him a tired smile. He waves Steve over to the teapot and offers him a cup.

“Just a couple minutes ago. I didn’t mind waiting,” Steve assures him. “What’s the blend?”

“Lavender and chocolate.”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind a cup.” Bruce hands him the steaming mug. Steve has to add the sugar himself (only Tony knows how he prefers his tea).

“What brings you to my lab? Tony’s downstairs today,” Bruce says, fixing a cup of his own.

“I’m not looking for Tony. Not yet anyway,” Steve corrects. “I did want to talk about him though.” He hesitates and then decides to take the plunge. “Has Tony ever said anything to you about—ah—”

“About his feelings?” Bruce asks knowledgeably. “It’s come up a few times.”

Steve takes that to mean that it’s come up fairly frequently. Tony does like to overshare sometimes and trying to figure out what he’ll overshare about and what he’ll clam up about is about as accurate as trying to make one of Clint’s trick shots. “He told me today,” he begins carefully. “But he didn’t let me say anything.”

“Well, he wouldn’t,” Bruce says, like that’s perfectly reasonable and not absolutely surprising to Steve. He must see the confusion in Steve’s face because he adds, “He only just figured it out a few days ago himself, even though he’s been talking about you for months. I don’t think he was expecting you to feel the same way as him right after he realized it.”

“But why would he say it then?”

Bruce takes off his glasses, holding them in front of him as he thinks. “Tony—he’s got a weird relationship with love. He told me once that he thought he’d lost the chance to tell Pepper he loved her, first in Afghanistan and then with the palladium poisoning.”

“His parents,” Steve realizes. “He didn’t get to tell them either.”

“Exactly,” Bruce says, pointing at him with the glasses. “He doesn’t like to wait. So even though he knows you don’t feel the same way, he felt it was important to tell you.”

“What, in case I die tomorrow?”

“Or if he does.” Bruce must catch the stricken expression on Steve’s face as he smiles gently. “It’s not just about getting the feeling off his chest for Tony. It’s about making sure that you know you’re loved too.”

“Oh,” Steve says softly.

Normally, he would go down to the workshop to think about something that’s puzzling him but he doesn’t want to bother Tony right now. Instead, he goes to his second-favorite room in the entire tower: the library. The library was designed specifically by Tony for Steve after he mentioned how much he liked the tablet Tony had given him but how he missed paper books too. He hadn’t been angling for a library out of the conversation but Tony, generous to a fault, had immediately gotten to work on one.

It’s a beautiful room, completely incongruous with the sleek modern style of the rest of the tower, but perfect despite that. It takes up an entire two floors of the tower with balconies, a spiral staircase, and several sliding ladders for Clint to reenact a scene from some movie that Steve hasn’t gotten around to watching yet. Tony had done the room in dark wood with enough windows to make it feel light and airy instead of cramped. There are little nooks hidden among the shelves and a few window seats for anyone who wants to gaze out over the New York skyline while they read.

It’s perfect, made all the more so because Tony designed it for him.

“Steve, you should have realized how Tony felt sooner,” he mutters to himself as he settles on one of the cushy armchairs with his sketchbook. But how could he have? According to Bruce, Tony hadn’t even known how he felt until a few days ago.

He sketches as he thinks, no subject in mind until he looks down to find that he’s roughly sketched out Tony at his workbench, arguing with DUM-E over something silly. Steve smiles fondly down at the drawing, rubbing his thumb over the curve of Tony’s cheek. He remembers this argument. It had been a couple weeks ago. Tony had asked DUM-E to bring him a wrench and instead, DUM-E had brought him two screwdrivers, three hammers, and a level before finally bringing the wrench. It had made Steve laugh, which had just encouraged DUM-E. Tony had acted frustrated but he knows Tony well enough to know that Tony had been secretly proud about DUM-E’s personality, both for DUM-E and for himself. After all, as Tony said, any monkey could design an AI. It took skill to design one with character.

In his sketch, he’s drawn something of that conflict in Tony’s face—the frustration in the downward turn of his mouth but the pride in the twinkle in his eyes—and it only makes him more beautiful.

“Beautiful,” Steve repeats, awed at the thought. Tony is beautiful, when he’s tinkering, when he’s flying, even when he’s going toe-to-toe with Steve over something stupid (usually Tony’s self-sacrificial tendencies).

He flips through the book, taking in each drawing: Natasha, Tony, Clint, Thor, Tony, Bruce, Tony, Tony, Tony. “Yeah,” he murmurs, looking back down at the drawing he just finished again. He thinks he’s got it figured out.

He stands, tucking his sketchbook under his arm. “JARVIS, do you think Tony would mind talking to me now? I’ve got something important to tell him.”

JARVIS is quiet for a moment, then says, “Sir would be happy to see you.”

He makes his way downstairs, thinking about what he’s going to say, but as soon as he sees Tony—wonderful, beautiful, perfect Tony—playing with one of those incredible holograms he designed, the words fly from his mind and he blurts out, “I’m not in love with you.”

And then he winces. Yeah, okay, so he’s a bit of a disaster.

Tony looks hurt for a moment, but it’s quickly covered up with dramatic offense. Before Tony can make one of his infamous quips that’ll just make light of the situation, Steve crosses the workshop and pulls Tony’s hands into his, rubbing them gently with his thumbs.

“I’m not in love with you,” he repeats. “But I think I could be soon. I’m not where you’re at yet—my brain isn’t nearly as quick as yours, Tony, of course you’re a step ahead of me here too. But Tony, you’re on almost every single page of my sketchbook. We go on what we might as well call dates together. We talk for hours. I know you almost as well as I know myself. I’m not in love with you yet but I think I’m only a couple dates away from it, so you should take me out, and we’ll see how fast I can catch up.”

Tony is smiling by the end of his little speech. “How are you always so good at that?” he asks.

“I was born like this,” Steve says seriously, only to crack a grin when Tony laughs.

“No you weren’t,” Tony argues. “You were born small and spiteful.”

“And full of good speeches. But no one wanted to listen to a little guy like me so I had to bottle them up to use on you.” He pauses and looks down at Tony. “Um, not to pressure you, but does a date sound good?”

Tony thinks about it for a moment. “Depends. Where are you going to take me?”

“Oh, am I taking you? You’re the billionaire, shouldn’t you be treating me?”

Tony’s eyes darken as he purrs, “Only if you’re very nice.”

Steve shivers. He hadn’t really thought about how it would feel to have the full Tony Stark Seduction TechniqueTM turned on him, but he’s thinking about it now and it is absolutely delightful. “What if I’m not nice at all?” he whispers, hands tightening on Tony’s.

Tony’s smile turns downright filthy and he leans up to brush a kiss over Steve’s cheek. “Hmm, I’ll think of something,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear.

He’s not going to act like a caveman and take Tony to bed. He’s not. He’s going to—“Sal’s!” he blurts out, immediately regretting it when Tony takes a step away, brow wrinkling confusedly. It’s really cute. Steve wants to kiss it away.

“What?”

“Sal’s,” Steve says again. “Best burgers in Brooklyn. I want to take you there.”

Tony smiles again. “Sounds like a date.”

#alle writes #stevetony #alle answers #if you like please consider reblogging #Anonymous

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

A Surprise to be Sure

Pairing: Geralt/Fem!Reader

Words: 5761

Summary: You meet Geralt and Jaskier on the road and have a lovely little adventure in the kingdom of Temeria.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of violence, TW mentions of rape, SMUT, 18+

A/N: It’s here y’all, my b-day Geralt fic! I’m really happy with how this turned out and could honestly have published it without the smut, that’s how much I love this fic. It is definitely going to be part of a series so I hope you all enjoy! (PS I love writing Jaskier way too much and could honestly just do a full series of him having random misadventures all over the continent!) I’m tagging @navybrat817 because I know she loves some Henry Cavill

Jaskier had been belting the Fishmonger’s Daughter for the past 30 minutes, and Geralt was ready to murder him.

“Must you insist on shouting our position to every living creature in a 5 mile radius?” He hissed at the bard.

“List, my grumpy, hoar-headed friend. I need to be sure my voice is in top form if I’m performing at a royal ball. Now, you’ll feel better if you sing with me, Oooh Fishmonger, Oh Fishmonger, Come Quell your Daughter’s Hunger!”

“I’m going to feed you that damn lute before we reach the castle if you don’t shut up. I can’t listen to this for three days.” The Witcher growled under his breath. He couldn’t figure out why he had agreed to accompany the irritating man on his journey, but the man always managed to convince him to go along with his stupid plans.

“Now, Geralt. You know you secretly love my singing. After all, how many jobs has that little song of mine rustled up for you, eh? Stop being so grouchy.”

He gave him a grunt. “Fine, can you at least sing something else?”

“Ah, but of course, my large, angry friend. Eh hem, You think you’re safe, without a care…”

“Gods, not that one.”

“Well, there’s no pleasing you is there. Ahh, what’s that noise?”

A feminine shriek split the air, causing a flock of birds to take flight only a few feet from the pair of riders. Roach of course didn’t mind, but Jaskier’s mount almost threw him, causing Geralt to smile.

“Gods, see, this is why I hate travelling on these creatures. Give me a nice coach ride any time. Come Geralt, let us see what fair maiden is in need of our assistance.”

“Our assistance?”

“Well, your assistance. C’mon Geralt, a damsel in distress, this is the perfect material for a new song.”

Geralt followed the idiot as he rode towards the sounds of distress, determined to keep him from getting himself killed. He didn’t really like getting involved in petty issues of the realms but knew that Jaskier lived for these tiny adventures.

They came upon you, surrounded by five men in soiled armor. Your cart had a broken wheel and was sinking into the snow and mud. One of the men had you pinned in the back of the cart by your neck as he buried his other hand in your skirts. The other men jeered at you as they kept their watch.

“Look Geralt, a fair maid waiting to be rescued, what could make for a better song? Ho there fellows, stop your raping or you’ll have to deal with my cantankerous companion here.”

“Move along, bard this doesn’t concern you.” One of the soldiers growled at Jaskier before spitting to the side. “Or, wait your turn and we’ll let you and your pal have her when we’re done.”

“Ah, Geralt, I’ll let you take care of them. Make sure to draw it out, a long fight always makes for a better song.”

“Oh, fuck this.” You hissed, pulling out the stiletto you had hidden in your skirts and gutting the man who was restraining you.

Jaskier turned his head and vomited as the man’s intestines seeped out of him and he crumbled to the forest floor. You flung your cloak off your shoulders as you drew the obscenely large longsword you had concealed beneath its folds and chopped off the hand of the next soldier who came charging at you before plunging it into his chest.

“I don’t know, bard. Seems like the maid has things under control.” Geralt grinned at his companion once he had finished emptying his stomach.

You wrenched the blade free as the two unhorsed soldiers rushed you. One of them tossed his own dagger at you and you used your sword to whip it back at him, catching him in the throat. You brought up your dagger and crossed the blades you were holding to catch the sword of your fourth opponent. You managed to loop the dagger under his hilt and wrenched the sword from his grasp as you let the momentum from his attack carry you the two of you backwards, flipping him over your head until you were straddling his chest. You gave him a small smirk as your drove your dagger through his eye.

“Shouldn’t we be doing something?” Jaskier asked as he watched the bloody show with abject horror painted on his face.

“What would you suggest bard? The woman seems to be able to handle herself, and I can’t say these soldiers seem particularly deserving of assistance.”

The final soldier had dismounted and was now striding towards you, twirling his sword around like an idiot peacock. You scowled at him before pulling a massive crossbow from beneath the packages in your cart and shooting him in the shoulder.

He went down with a soft grunt and you strutted over to him, crossbow slung over your shoulder and dagger twirling through your fingers. You tutted at him like you were chiding a naughty schoolboy.

“Oh, Abbett, what did you do with the money? I certainly hope you have it on you. I don’t feel like trekking through this frozen forest digging for it.”

“You cunt.” The man spat at you. “We fought those bloody Nilfgaardians to keep these farmers safe and warm. The least they can do to thank us is give up a few bloody coins and their daughters.”

You shot him again in the leg and he let out a scream.

“One more time, Abbett, the money? I can’t give those poor girls their maidenhoods again but maybe their families can offer a dowry to make them good matches.”

“Argh, bitch! It’s in the saddlebags.”

“Excellent! See, not so fucking difficult, and you saved me the nasty task of gelding you!” You took a few steps forward and shot him through the eye as you went to examine the horse and find the stolen coins.

“Ahem, hello, madam! I am Jaskier the Bard and this is my companion, Geralt of Rivia! Would you join us on our journey to the capital of Temeria? You seem like a lass with stories to tell and I’m just the fellow to put them to song.”

“Jaskier, shut the fuck up.” Geralt hissed at him.

You whipped around to the two of them and pointed your crossbow at the Witcher. “Fuck, I almost forgot about you two. Well, you’ve given me a bit of a conundrum boys. I was counting on there not being any witnesses here. These vagabonds are still wearing the king’s colors after all, and we’re close enough to the capital that that could prove to be a problem for me.” You had started to unfasten the bodice of the gown you were wearing, desperate to get out of the confining layers of cloth that had comprised your disguise. You revealed an outfit of bleached leather and furs that clung to your body.

“Oops.” Jaskier murmured, giving Geralt a sheepish grin as he raised his hands in supplication. “Geralt, friend, maybe you can talk to our new companion.”

“Right, listen, we don’t care that you just slaughtered five of the king’s soldiers, though I’m sure upon closer inspection they’ll be shown to be deserters. And as we have no desire to bring any trouble down on you, we’ll just be on our way.”

“Wait,” You called after them, tossing the rags of your gown onto the abandoned cart as you saddled your horse. “If you’re heading towards the capital, I’ll join you. I have some deliveries to make before I get out of this god-forsaken country, and that way I can keep an eye on you.” You gave them a grin as you rode up the hill to join them. “I can think of worse company than a bard and a Witcher.”

Jaskier shot a grin back at you as you joined them. “Ah, finally someone who will appreciate my talents. Tell me… um..”

“Y/N”

“Y/N, lovely, do you have any requests?”

Geralt groaned internally at the thought of being stuck with two singing idiots for the journey but was cut short by the sound of multiple bows being drawn.

“Fuck.”

“That’s far enough you three.” A captain in shining armor commanded as you came into view of a mounted regiment of king’s soldiers, accompanied by about 100 footmen who all had arrows trained on you. “What do you know about several groups of dead king’s men that have been found in these woods.”

Geralt shot you a look of reproach over his shoulder as you pointedly avoided making eye contact, examining your fingernails like they were the most interesting thing on the continent.

“There’s another group of dead soldiers in the clearing back there, captain. Looks like we’ve found our culprits.”

“Oh, just wait a minute. My grouchy friend and I were just passing through when we came upon this lovely woman being set upon by these supposed kingsmen. Granted, we considered dispatching them ourselves but our fair companion had things well in hand. Seems like she was doing your jobs for you.”

You and Geralt shared a groan. “Shut up, Jaskier.”

The captain gave a snort of derision. “You want us to believe this pretty thing has been besting the king’s chosen troops on her own for months? Take their weapons and restrain the Witcher and the woman. The bard can sing us some songs to pass the time as we travel. We’ll save this for the king to sort out.”

You gave a heavy sigh and started handing over your blades. Jaskier’s eyes started to bulge as you continued pulling smaller and smaller knives out of an increasingly absurd number of hiding places, until there was an impressive pile in front of the soldier who had been tasked with collecting your weapons.

Geralt was less forthcoming in turning over his weapons and didn’t really start until a spear prodded him in the back. He was gazing at Renfri’s blade when the captain lost his patience, and the butt of the spear whipped across the back of his head, knocking him cold.

“Put his blades with the rest of it.”

Geralt woke up with his face buried in your hair and let out a groan at the throbbing in his skull.

“What the fuck?” He lifted his head, squinting against the sun reflecting off the new fallen snow.

“Good morning, Witcher. Apparently this type of restraint has been proven to limit the ability of the restrained to extricate themselves from their bindings. You missed a fascinating lecture on it as they were tying us up.”

The two of you were bound face to face on the saddle of your massive black courser. Your arms and legs tangled around each other and wrapped in an intricate series of knots. He started trying to wrench himself free, but only succeeded in bringing you even closer to him as he let out a grunt of frustration.

“Look at the two of you, so cozy.” Jaskier rode up with a grin on his face, strumming his lute. “Do not worry yourselves, my violent friends. I am currently working on a plan to extricate the two of you from this predicament. I have the ear of the captain.”

“Are you going to annoy him to death Jaskier? Maybe if you sing that damn abortion song enough times, he’ll release us just to be rid of you.”

“You wound me, Geralt. The name of that tune is “You Think You’re Safe” and you’ll be happy to know that the captain is enamored of my talents and has asked me to regale him and his officers at their meal tonight.”

“Ah, good for you Jaskier. Make sure to sing the ‘Fishmonger’s Daughter’ I hear that’s a favorite of the troops.” You smiled at him, throwing him a wink.

“Oh, I knew I liked you, Y/N! See Geralt, it isn’t so hard to appreciate what I bring to the table. Thank you for your advice, sweet lady, I will be sure to take heed!” He rode off, humming to himself as he tuned his lute.

“Why would you encourage him?” Geralt growled in your ear, still fighting against his bonds.

“Ah, Witcher, you need to relax. I’m sure Jaskier’s plan will work out just fine.”

“The bard is an imbecile, the day I trust myself to any plan of his is the day I resign myself to a slow and painful death.”

“Well, be that as it may, if you don’t stop struggling, we’re going to end up in a very uncomfortable situation.” You said, giving a gasp as another jerk of your bonds brought you indecently close.

“Fuck.” He let out in a hiss, resigning himself to waiting for a better opportunity as a lock of your hair blew into his face, smelling of pine and turned earth “I don’t suppose you have any sort of plan of escape, since it’s your fault we’re in this situation.”

“Geralt, I do apologize that you have ended up in my mess. I’m so sorry that the war with Nilfgaard has caused unprecedented levels of desertion, and that the cowards that have runoff have been terrorizing and robbing the smallfolk. And I’m sorry that the king failed to listen to the pleas of his people, who had to pool together the last of their coin to contract me to come in and relieve them of their problems. But yes, this mess is entirely of my own making, and nothing to do with the colossal mismanagement of the realm of Temeria.”

“Hmmph.” He grunted into your hair. “So how are you getting us out of this mess?”

You gave him a snort. “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours Witcher, something will work out.”

“Alright, dismount.” One of the lieutenants ordered, leering at the two of you. “Hope you two have enjoyed today’s ride. I hear they’re already constructing a gibbet for you in Vizima.”

“I see the royal council has decided to do away with even the minimal farce of a trial then.”

Two soldiers had started to undo the maze of knots binding you and the Witcher together and you gave a hiss as blood started to flow back into your legs.

“An attack on the king’s army is an attack on the king. No trials for traitors to the crown.”

“You do know that neither of us are citizens of this kingdom?” Geralt asked him. “You can’t betray a monarch you don’t serve.”

“Pssh, a minor inconsistency. The king can’t be seen as soft during wartime.”

“Oh, of course not.” You murmured as the soldiers dragged you off your mount and led you to the prisoners’ tent that had been erected next to the officers’. The same intricate raveling of ropes and knots started again as they bound your upper bodies to the poles in the center of the tent. You could hear the beginnings of revelry in the officers’ pavilion when they left you.

“Well, now what?” Geralt asked you, pulling against the bonds at his wrists.

“Just, have a little patience.” You chided him, leaning against your pole in as relaxed of a pose as you could achieve.

“You did hear that they plan on executing us once they get us back to the capital?”

“No, Geralt, I missed that.” You spat at him as you heard Jaskier start to sing and gave a small smile. “Excellent, let’s hope he leaves the good stuff until they’re well and drunk.”

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” He asked you, still trying to wrench himself free.

“For fucks’ sake, give it a rest. Apparently the royal knot tyers are the only members of this army who haven’t fallen lax in their duties.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Just give it a half hour and we’ll give you a chance to get out all the pent up aggression.”

“So you do have a plan? Any chance you want to let me in on it?”

“I think I’ll leave it for a surprise.”

The two of you sat there listening as the sounds of drunken celebration filled the camp. It only took 20 minutes for the revelry to reach a dull roar, and a smile crept over your face when you heard the first refrains of ‘The Fishmonger’s Daughter’.

“Ah, Jaskier, perfect timing.” You muttered.

The song started speeding up and spread through the regiment. You heard the soldiers start clapping along and seized your moment, bending your legs and driving your back into the post you were bound to at each clap, starting to shift it out of the ground with each drive of your shoulders.

Geralt finally seized on your idea and joined you in wrenching his post out of the ground. Within a few rounds of the song, they were loosened enough for you to drag them out of their anchors, causing the tent to collapse around you. You slipped your bonds over the ends of the posts and unraveled yourselves. Geralt gave you a look of appreciation as you hefted your post, flung the folds of the fallen tent off yourself and whipped the post around to take out the two guards that had been posted at the entrance.

“Well, let’s find our weapons, shall we?” You said, giving him a grin.

Apparently, your appraisal of the army had been accurate; you ran into minimal resistance as you made your way to the weapons tent and managed to knock out the only sentries you encountered before Geralt had a chance to react.

“Ah, my babies.” You said to yourself as you started resheathing the ridiculous number of knives you had accumulated for yourself, kissing each blade before you returned it to its rightful place.

“How can you possibly be comfortable wearing all of that steel?” Geralt asked you around a grin, watching you tuck a dirk between your breasts and wondering how you managed to not cut yourself.

“I’m a woman traveling the continent alone, Witcher. I’ve found that the element of surprise is my friend, and there’s nothing quite as surprising as an unexpected knife between the ribs.”

He actually laughed at that, strapping one sword to his back and one to his hip as you hefted your crossbow and loaded it with a bolt before heading back out into the snow.

You were met by the surprised faces of a drunken group of soldiers who were wending their way through the tents, arms around each other as the slurred the lyrics to their favorite song. You shot the first through the chest as you drew your longsword over your shoulder and you dropped your crossbow to the ground, slashing the second across the face before they finally regained their composure and sounded the alarm.

Geralt drew his blades and clashed with three of the remaining soldiers as you grappled with the other two. He managed to drive his long sword through one of their chests before the other two had a chance to converge on him and he struggled to drive them apart with his fists to allow himself room to maneuver. One of his opponents went down suddenly with a dagger through his throat and Geralt threw a look your way to see your first opponent down and missing an eye as you drove your knee into the chest of your second opponent, driving him into a post as you brought your sword around and ran it across his throat.

Geralt threw his assailant over his shoulder and rammed his blade through his chest as you let out a shrill whistle and hefted your crossbow as the sound of hoofbeats rose through the camp. Roach and your courser came charging around the bend suddenly and you latched onto your steed’s mane and swung yourself onto his back as Geralt vaulted onto Roach’s. You turned suddenly and led him back towards the officers’ pavilion as drunken soldiers did their best to pursue you.

“We almost forgot the fucking bard!” You grinned at him as you hopped off your horse and slashed through the back of the officers’ tent. You emerged seconds later with a terrified looking Jaskier, who you tossed over the back of your mount like a sack of potatoes before leaping up behind him and kicking your steed to a gallop.

“Either of you want to fill me in on what the fuck is happening?!” Jaskier shrieked as he bounced around.

The two of you ignored him as you rode on. You set a punishing pace through the whole night, not looking back until you crossed the river into the kingdom of Redania as the sun rose and you finally allowed your horses to slow their pace to a walk, dismounting to give them a rest.

“If my lute is damaged, I’ll never forgive you.” Jaskier whined as he inspected his instrument, hobbling along as he tried to adjust after the unceremonious thrashing he had taken during the ride.

“Jaskier, a little thanks should be in order. Y/N and I did save you from a rather nasty execution after all.” Geralt grinned at him as he walked beside you, Roach nuzzling him in the shoulder as he patted her snout.

“I told the two of you, I had the captain’s ear, I would have been able to talk us out of any trouble.”

You gave him a snort as your courser butted his head into yours, begging for his own pats. “Jaskier, you would have been strung up right beside us. Just think though, this little adventure has the makings of a great song, eh? I’ll buy you a nice hot meal and a bath at the inn we’re coming up on.”

“Well, I’d never say no to a bath. How close is this inn?”

“Just over the next hill.”

You arrived within an hour and made arrangements for the horses as Jaskier headed in to arrange rooms and meals for the three of you.

Geralt and you headed into the inn and you grabbed the two of you the largest mugs of beer you could arrange before joining Jaskier at a table and tearing into the trencher of bread.

“So, good news first.” The bard said. “I arranged for nice, hot baths for all three of us, in addition to our meals. The only thing is, they only had two rooms.”

Geralt let out a groan at that. “Fine, bard, I guess the two of us are sharing accommodations for the next few days then.”

“Aah, well. I figured, with you two having grown so close during our little journey, that you wouldn’t mind sharing the much, much larger room whilst I make due with the tiny, lonely room myself that I’ve already had them unload my things into.”

The two of you shot him equally reproachful looks over your mugs of beer as a barmaid arrived to let him know his bath was ready.

“Ah, splendid. Well, you two enjoy your breakfasts. I’m going to take a very long nap after my bath and I’ll see you this afternoon, or maybe even tomorrow.”

A whole roasted chicken arrived and the two of you tore into it without a word, polishing it off quickly as you hadn’t realized how famished you were.

“I’ll arrange for them to bring up the hot water for baths for us.” You told Geralt as you stood up and stretched, downing the last of your beer.

“I’m fine without.” The Witcher grumbled at you.

You gave him a derisive chuckle. “If we’re bedding together for the two days it’ll take for the horses to rest up, you’re bathing yourself at least once, I don’t need to smell everywhere you’ve been in the past month.”

He gave an uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders as he followed you upstairs. It had been a while since he’d spent the night with a woman he wasn’t paying, and there was something about you he found disarming. Endearing, but disarming nonetheless.

“Ah, at least there’s two tubs.” You said gleefully as you entered the room. A group of attendants arrived a moment later, carrying four large buckets of steaming water between them that they emptied into the copper tubs before taking their leave.

You started by pulling off your supple boots and Geralt turned his back as he began to unlace his jerkin. He heard you give a soft laugh behind him. “Are we really going to pretend like neither of us have seen a naked body before, Witcher?”

He whipped around at the amusement in your voice. You had removed your corset and sleeves and were down to nothing but a thin linen tunic on top. He tried not to stare at the shape of your breasts moving beneath the fabric as you worked at unlacing your breeches. You shot him a wicked look through your lashes as you moved your fingers back to unstrap the multiple sheathes that had been hidden beneath your bodice.

He did his best to ignore you as he ripped his jerkin off over his head. He made easy work of his tunic and breeches and sank into the tub while you were still working on undoing the intricate trappings of your hidden arsenal.

“I really don’t see how you can be comfortable in all of that Y/N.” He chided you as you removed the final straps and drew your tunic over your head before shimmying out of your breeches. He did his best to keep his eyes occupied elsewhere as you stepped into your own bath, hissing at the heat.

“Comfort is a matter of individual preference, dear. Oh, that’s wonderful.” You sank into the water with a sigh and dunked your head under before coming back up with a gasp.

“So, you going to tell me how you ended up with a warhorse, enough steel to equip a small band of thieves, and the strength to wield a tentpole like a damn quarterstaff, or is that something I’ll have to guess at?” He asked as he dumped a bucket over his head and ran the water through his hair before shaking it back out and splashing you, making you yelp.

“I think I’ll keep that my little secret for now, Geralt. Maybe if you buy me a few strongales over the next few days I’ll regale you with my tale of woe.” You let out a sigh as you felt your muscles relax. “Maybe I’ll get you to tell me your history as well. I hear the Redanians have a liquor that will light your chest on fire and make you forget the seasons.”

He gave a laugh and settled his head back against the tub. “You think you can outdrink me girl, you’re in for a nasty surprise… fuck.” He hadn’t heard you leave your tub and sat up startled when you crawled into his, sloshing water over the sides.

“Oh, Geralt, you’ll find that I’m full of surprises.” You said before pressing your mouth to his softly and giving a gentle sigh.

He got over his surprise quickly and wrapped his arms around you, pressing you to him fiercely as he growled against your lips.

You gave him a small laugh as you moved your lips down the line of his jaw to his neck, running your teeth along his collarbone before nipping at him softly as your hands moved down the plains of his chest, dipping below the water to take his cock in your grasp. He gave you a satisfying moan as you did so and you began sliding your hand up and down his length slowly as you raised a small bruise on his shoulder with your mouth.

He bucked his hips up into your hand as you increased your pace and you moved your other hand below the water to play with his balls. You leaned against his chest and gazed up at him with heavy lids as you watched him come apart under your ministrations.

He arched his back and gave a heavy moan as he came in your hand and you grinned against his chest as he softened, planting soft kisses along his throat as he came down and his breathing slowed.

He swallowed thickly and grinned at you before scooping his arms underneath you and lifting you out of the tub easily, making you shriek with glee before he dropped you unceremoniously on the large bed and pounced on top of you, nuzzling himself into the skin below your ear as his large hands skimmed down the sides of your torso before coming to rest on your hips and kneading them, raising bruises on your soft skin.

He brought one hand between the two of you and ran his fingers through the soft hair of your mound before rubbing them between your folds, making you arch into him as you let out a thin whine, fluttering your lashes as you gazed at him. He grinned down at you as he inserted two fingers at an agonizingly slow pace and you moaned as he started fucking them into you, curling them against that sweet, spongy spot each time.

He added another finger as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your clean scent as you mewled and whimpered, begging him for more. He started strumming your clit with his thumb and you writhed underneath him, doing your best to grind your cunt into him as his fingers stretched you.

It was almost too much when he added the fourth finger and you wrapped your hands in his silver hair, pressing his face to your neck as you cried silently. He moved his mouth back to yours as he increased his speed and pressure on your tiny bud, moving his tongue softly past your lips and tangling it with yours. You came around him, clenching down on his fingers in your release as all the breath rushed out of you. He felt you go rigid beneath him before you collapsed back against the bed with a sigh.

“You think you’re ready for me sweetheart?” He asked as he kissed your neck, moving his hands up to palm your breasts.

You pulled his head back by his hair and gave him a grin before squeezing his sides with your thighs and rolling until you were on top of him, straddling his hips.

You sat up over him and he groaned at the sight of you, soft skin moving over lean muscle, a patchwork of faint scars covering your torso. He ran his thumb over an especially noticeable one that ran over your ribs below your left breast as you guided him to your entrance and sheathed his length inside you suddenly, making him hiss.

You started grinding against him, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone before you started fucking yourself on his cock. He tossed his head back with a moan and a murmured “Fuck” as his hands moved to your hips and guided your thrusts, meeting your hips with his own as he rutted up into you.

He sat up suddenly and pressed you to him as he knelt beneath you, staring into your eyes with lust blown pupils, a thin golden ring around a pool of deep black. You wrapped your legs around his back as he fucked up into you at a faster pace, making it hard for you to breathe.

He wrenched your head down to his and crashed his mouth against yours, his tongue invading you hungrily as you felt your pleasure starting to coil in your abdomen and you whimpered into his mouth.

He felt you starting to clench around him and moved a hand between you to strum at your clit. It only took a moment and you were flying apart around him, every muscle below your waist spasming as your orgasm wracked you and you cried into his mouth. His release was right behind yours as his hips stilled and you felt his spend spurting into you, coating your velvety walls in his release with a feral growl.

He collapsed back on the bed, still holding you to him as you both came down from you pleasure, breathing heavily as your hearts pounded together. You propped your chin on his chest and gave him a sinful grin that he returned, planting a kiss on the top of your head as you started to untangle yourselves.

“Well, if all your surprises are that pleasant, Y/N, I can’t wait to find out more.” He said to you over his shoulder as he stood up from the bed, grabbing a towel to finish drying himself off. He tossed you one and you ran it softly between your thighs, cleaning the mixture of your releases from your slit as you grinned back at him.

“My dear Witcher, I aim to please.” You threw a wink at him before you stood up and stretched. “I arranged for some clean clothes to be brought up, could you check the door for them?”

He peeked his head out and brought in two sets of soft woolens, tossing one to you. You yanked a tunic over your head before stepping into the clean pair of breeches. You decided to forgo most of your blades for the moment, opting for a simple belt that contained two daggers once you had finished lacing up your bodice.

“Shall we head down for more ale?”

“Gods yes, what else do you know about this storied Redanian liquor?”

You gave him a throaty laugh as you headed down to the main room and lute music floated up to meet you.

“Ah, Y/N! Geralt! My friends! Join us for a song won’t you? Y/N, I still want to hear you sing ‘The Fishmonger’s Daughter’ for us, eh? Oh Fishmonger, Oh Fishmonger, Come Quell your Daughter’s Hunger”

“Gods, Jaskier, aren’t you sick of that song yet?” Geralt growled half heartedly

“Pull the stick out of your ass, Witcher. C’mon, Jaskier. To pull on my horn, as it rises in the morn!”

“What a lovely voice you have my lady! For tis naught but bad luck, to fuck with a puck!”

The Witcher rolled his eyes at the two of you as he headed to the bar and the rest of the patrons joined in. What he wouldn’t give to never hear this abominable tune ever again.

“Lest your grandkid be born, a hairy young faun! Bleating and baying all day, hey ho!”

Permanent Tags:

@drabblewithfrannybarnes

#geralt of rivia #geralt x ofc #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x reader #witcher netflix #witcher fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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foenixs · 3 years

Text

Sex with Monsta X

note: this is a headcanon to what I believe sex with the members of Monsta X would be like, I see most of them as subs and wrote the bullet points according to this theory (again, these are just my two cents on the topic)

if you like my works please reblog them with a nice comment or tag

includes- sub!Monsta X x reader, mentions of different kinks (overstimulation, pet play, pegging, whipping, brat taming, choking, begging, degradation, dacryphilia, teasing, edging, biting), oral

none of the gifs used are mine

Shownu

-very classic, vanilla type (does not need anything more, but he can fuck you any way you crave)

-will be willing to try new things if it makes you happy and has no problems with letting you top or dom him

-likes it when you tell him what to do and then praise him when he’s doing a good job following orders (the perfect service top)

-might seem like he’s not too horny or eager to have sex with you sometimes but that’s just his calm (robot xD) self, you could come up to him at any time and he’d be ready/make some time for you

-will be mostly quiet, but smile when he feels good

-secretly loves when you overstimulate him and will let you know with low groans

-strong suit: thrusts (this man literally re-invented bodyrolls!!)

Wonho

-bunny with a capital B, he’s literally so fluffy and soft, a total sub and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s actually into pet play (will be so happy when you buy him custom bunny ears)

-his body might be huge, but his heart is even bigger, and he’ll prove that in bed

-will do anything and everything for you, the most obedient of them all as he won’t even question your demands (this makes it very hard to punish him, but I mean how could you punish such a pure soul anyway)

-not afraid to moan

-lowkey has separation issues (I wonder why 🙁) so you’re gonna have to reinsure him that he’s yours and you’re his and nothing will change that

-strong suit: devotion (this just sums him up as a person)

Minhyuk

-he screams duality! Is a switch with a sub-leaning

-will be loud (!!), energetic, sometimes even bratty (but always in more of a playful way), but then he’ll suddenly do a 180° and become all cute and obedient

-very rarely gets flustered as he loves skin ship (so so proud of you and your relationship, at least in front of his members)

-not to mention he’s the con-artist of the group and will shamelessly use that to his advantage; if he wants to get punished, he’ll trick you into believing he did something wrong so you teach him a lesson, only for you to find out that that’s what he wanted and he actually hadn’t broken your rules all along (which makes you wanna punish him even more)

-every now and then he’ll get in his switch feels and will want to dom, but he’ll always ask you first and if you don’t like him taking the lead, he’ll drop it again or ask for a compromise (would rather push his own desires down than make you uncomfortable)

-I think he has the least problems with sharing you and he might even suggest having a threesome (wanting to have tried it at least once in his life), he knows you love him and is not one to get jealous easily

-strong suit: energy (would definitely be up for multiple rounds since he doesn’t get tired out easily)

Kihyun

-now this man is a little more complicated…

-I believe that he still has the mindset of men are on top and in control, while women need to be taken care of and he will use that mindset when you two first have sex

-you must be very blunt with him and tell him that that’s not what you are into and suggest that he let you top just once

-he will be very shy when he lets you do your thing for the first time and you’ll have to ease him into submission; will be even more embarrassed when he realizes how much better this new role feels

-will never let anyone know that he is secretly your sub, but over time (as he starts to trust you completely) he will melt in your hands like pudding and bend to your will

-his voice raises an octave while you fuck him and he’ll let out the most inhuman sounds (screeching, screaming, and what not), afterwards he’ll deny ever having made such sounds

-every now and then when he has a really bad day, he will become very bratty, not following any of your demands and he might even curse you out; that’s when the brat tamer inside you will burst through and you’ll whip him so hard he won’t be able to properly sit for days (will apologize for the mean things he said during aftercare and thank you for helping him forget about his day)

-threesomes are an absolute no-go, he hates sharing and would get super scared you’d leave him for someone else/that he’s not good enough for you (complete opposite of Minhyuk)

-strong suit: loyalty (you are his one and only and he doesn’t want or need anyone else)

Hyungwon

-he gives me the weakest sub-vibes out of all the members; doesn’t understand why you want to dom him so badly but if you insist on it, he’d still let you do it

-is very blunt when it comes to his desires and not ashamed to tell you when he wants to have sex

-likes it when you suck him off, but can’t take a lot of teasing/edging (might be unexpectedly turned on by overstimulation if you kept on going after he came and would ask you to do that again the next time)

-has a thing for feeling your hands rest on his chest and neck (not necessarily choking him), especially when you ride him

-loves making out while having sex and having you kiss down his neck and play with his hair, might even suck on your nipples if you let him

-can hold back sounds very well, but he secretly has the prettiest moans

-strong suit: lips (his oral skills are no joke, and he knows it; might play dumb about it just to tease you)

Jooheon

-the. Absolute. Fucking. Cutest. So adorable and so needy

-master at begging (is fluent in aegyo), always gets what he wants

-will cling onto you like a monkey and pout when you don’t have time to please him

-loves it when you tease and edge him, push his legs up to fuck his cute ass, pull on his hair, degrade him, use him, anything! just loves to have sex with you, all the time

-sex will pretty much always be rough and kinky so make sure to give him the best aftercare (CUDDLES!), will always thank you afterwards

-likes to wear your clothes and nothing else

-lives for the duality, like when you push your strap on down his throat while gently stroking his hair and telling him how good of a toy, he is for you

-will whimper so much and so loud; cannot keep quiet (you’ll have to gag him if you don’t want the whole neighbourhood to know that you are fucking your boyfriend, yet again)

-dacryphilia

-strong suit: obedience (will let you do anything to him as long as you do something; the only time he’ll whine and throw a tantrum is when you ignore him for too long)

Changkyun

-might be a major tease on stage but is so shy and quiet in real life

-loves to be roughened up but is not quite as straight forward about it as Jooheon

-lowkey likes when you slap him (whether it be his chest, thighs or maybe even his face)

-loves to get bitten by you and marked up and won’t bother covering them up the next day

-choking him will make him cum in a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds and if you don’t put your hands around his neck, he will literally grab them and do it himself

-is a growler and has the deepest moans (will moan out your title if you have one, if not he’ll just repeat your name)

-a god at eating you out, you practically live on his face (loves it when you pull on his hair while he goes down on you)

-he is a very honest and blunt person as well and he might even sit you down one day to talk about each other’s kinks and make plans for when and how you could try them in the future

-contrary to his on-stage persona, he is very affectionate with you and likes to hold you close to him/be held close to you

-he’s still young so I do believe he has a high sex drive, but he won’t pressure you into it

-strong suit: tongue, nose & fingers (uses the three to his advantage during oral)

masterlist

#Monsta X #monstax x reader #monsta x smut #shownu #Wonho #monsta x wonho #minhyuk #kihyun #hyungwon #jooheon #changkyun #headcanon #smut #sub!monsta x #sub monsta x headcanon #sub monsta x smut #dom reader smut #dom reader headcanon

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doubledgesword-2 · 3 years

Note

Can I get Vil Schoenheit x Rival Celebrity? They shoot insults at each other but end up flirting? Take it as far as you want! Any gender reader is fine lol

Oh, ma Gooosh!! This is the first Matcha Tea I've gotten, and I'm all for this. I had so much fun with this one, and I want to show you lil' sugar cubes the difference between characters I know and the ones that I don't. I do my research before writing a character that I'm unfamiliar with, but I will be sincere: I butchered the last request (Shalnark's). I will try to rewrite it, but other characters apart from the stated ones are a bit hard for me ( ˘︹˘ ).

I will always try my best for ya'll! Enjoy this steaming Matcha (❛‿❛✿)

“What a shameless potato,” nimble fingers scrolled down on their phone, looking at the menagerie of pictures from one single account: yours.

You and Vil were from the same industry, just not the same department per se. While he was a model and actor, you were a j pop star and actress. Your popularity and his were on the same level, but he was slightly higher if you asked him or his fans. Ever since the two of you met on set for a fantasy-like movie, you repelled each other’s presence like oil and water.

Amethyst eyes glared at your smiling picture, and a thousand critiques passed through his mind. Your make-up did not complement your features; what was your make-up artist thinking? That nail polish didn’t match with your skin, and your haircut didn’t go with your face and countless other thoughts. But that wasn’t his place to tell, and besides, you living in his head rent-free wasn’t good for his skin. Stress kills, and thinking about you was very stressful.

The subway doors opened, and Vil gripped his side bag, adjusting his beret and sunglasses and walking out with the amount of confidence and power it took to walk down the runway. The sea of people diligently coming and going parted for him without a cue. They just did like mindless fish around a predator. It was in their nature to give in, in the presence of something so regal.

Vil had a photoshoot to go, and he couldn’t miss a beat. His agenda was full and complicated; anyone who tried to follow it would surely lose their minds after the first three days of the same arduous pace. But he could handle it with the grace of a swan. He was the great Vil Shoenheit. He wondered if you could handle a week in his shoes. You probably would drop exhausted and disheveled, complaining about the hard work. The thought made him smirk smugly, and passerby fans who recognized him couldn’t even keep up to ask for an autograph.

He just couldn’t fathom how you had such a fan base with your attitude and manners. Sure, in front of the cameras, you were a sweetheart, stealing everyone’s hearts, singing like an empowered angel, and making them think you were as far from the villain he knew you truly were. Vil knew your kind and recognized it the moment he met you on set. Heck, you couldn’t even contain your disdain in interviews when the two of you had to sit side by side. It was uncomfortable, to say the least; the poor reporter was so painfully awkward trying to alleviate the tenseness in the room.

“So (Y/N), how do you feel being an actress in a big-budget movie while also singing and performing the next week? Is it exhausting?”

You sided glared at Vil, and gave the reporter a smug grin. “Well, I think I can handle a little bit of work. It’s not in me to sit around and look pretty, you know. But then again, I guess that’s what some people are into, so we can’t judge them. They might not understand hard work.”

Vil smiled with closed eyes. You were such an amateur. If it weren’t for the fact that you were actively throwing shade on him and being so annoying at it, too, he might think you were cute.

Of course, Vil wouldn’t back down; that’s not what he was taught. The crown was his, and he would take it with hard work and determination. Which means potatoes like you don’t really matter in the long run of things.

“Vil-senpai, how do you manage your modeling gig and your acting? I mean, it must be hard to run from one event to the next since they’re so close behind each other?”

“Well, dear, we models are more than just a pretty face. We represent big companies and events that many couldn’t even fathom getting into. My schedule might be a bit tight, but I was born into this lifestyle, and I have learned many skills to help me move and work in these types of environments. I can say one thing for sure not a lot of people can handle my agenda, one day in my heels, and they might slip if you know what I mean, darling.”

You scoffed under your breath, and it made Vil’s smile grow wider.

“Ahh, Vil-senpai is a hard worker for sure. Perhaps one day I could do an interview that can provide insight to one day of your agenda.”

“Anytime you want, darling, it would be lovely,” he knew with every word that came out of his mouth; you simmered even more.

“Are there any hobbies or activities that can fit into your schedules?

Vil was about to open his mouth when you beat him to it.

“Well, I don’t think he’s allowed to have any, you know, with his busy schedule. But I do love partaking in (hobby). I think it is a nice way to unwind and take my mind off of everything. Since stress it’s not good for your vocals, you know. I try to keep myself in top shape for my lovely fans.”

Vil was raging. How dare you interrupt him when he was clearly about to talk. Didn’t your parent taught you any manners, or are you so much of a spoiled brat to care for?

“Ahh, interesting. Does Vil Sendai have any hobbies in particular?

“As a matter of fact, I do” you were looking at him with an expectant smirk. You were genuinely curious to hear what he had to say. “I like to make beauty and make-up tutorials that are beneficial for a lot of my fans. I like to show them how to use brushes correctly what and what not to do with concealer. Those are bonding moments for me and my fans. I think they are important.”

At the end of that interview, a single question brought the anger and tense meter to burst. Now the tensions and dislikes weren’t palpable. They were visible.

“Oh, I’ve had some partners, but I like to focus more on my work, unlike some other artists who like to jump around; my projects come first, and I don’t want to ruin my partner’s and I relationship by not spending enough time with them.”

“Wow, he really doesn’t like to have fun.”

“I do just not with the likes of you.”

“Come on, pretty boy, you couldn’t handle me even if you were begging pretty on your knees.”

“Dream on, potato, you might be prettier than most potatoes, but you’re still that a potato with some potential. I bet if push came to shove, you wouldn’t last seconds with me.

“I bet you wouldn’t make it into the second round without having to retouch your make-up with me. Besides, it’s not like you’ll last long enough to even sweat that much.”

“Well, that’s a relief to know I wouldn’t have to put much effort into pleasing someone like you.”

The reporter was utterly flushed, and that was cut from the interview recording. Good thing that it was, or people might’ve gotten the wrong impression. That you liked each other or something.

Or something.

After that interview, rumors spread like they always do, and fans started gossiping about the two of you secretly together but having to hate each other in public to save face since it’s a big rumor that singers and models don’t actually go well together in the industry.

Such wild imagination and machinations fans have. It brought out a small chuckle.

Vil passed through the automatic doors telling the receptionist his name and guiding him to the set. Once there, he settled his stuff over the make-up table and sat back to look once more through his phone.

“Have you seen this?” A text notification annoying appeared on the screen.

Vil tch and opened the message to reveal a very well photoshopped photo of him and you sitting and drinking at some café. You were smiling like he just told you you were beautiful, and it was a good look on you.

This was outrageous. Who would go to such lengths? Suddenly a bag dropped right on the table next to him. He looked up to meet your eyes as you took off your sunglasses, slowly realizing who was sitting beside you.

“Oh no,” you faintly muttered underneath your breath but not faintly enough that Vil couldn’t hear you.

He scoffed and went back to look at the stupid picture, texting his manager as mad as he was.

“Oh, you saw it too,” you commented, sitting down and looking at your own phone.

Vil didn’t answer. He really didn’t care about your opinion on this; his credibility was on the line. He was supposed to hate you, and that’s how things should go.

“Well, at least they got a good angle of my face, not to mention I’m actually smiling for once.”

“Actually, smil- what are you talking about potato? All you do is smile in all of your pictures. That’s why you have to hide your wrinkles with make-up,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Well, as presumptuous as that was, proud little peacock, I actually never smile genuinely for the cameras. My genuine smile is reserved for good moments. I guess not anymore.”

At that, Vil felt like the two of you clicked. He knew the feeling, the invasive nature of fame, and the lack of privacy was very real in the industry. It’s the first thing you have to get through. But listening to you say made him realize you’re just like him.

“Well, if you behave during the shoot, I might feel inclined to reward you for good behavior” he grinned at you.

“Mmm, you make it sound as if you don’t like the way I make you crumble in front of everyone. It’s like you’re denying yourself the pleasure, and here I thought you liked the masochism.”

“Hahahaha, I’ll step on you once we’re done here. Maybe that and a little bit of discipline will put you in your place. However, your lack of manners and running mouth might be a problem; perhaps all you need is a nice pacifier. I can help with that.”

You both were so close to each other muttering salacious threats that you didn’t realize how flustered everyone else was in the room.

It was going to be another one of those shoots.

#twisted wonderland #vil x reader #vil x mc #vil shoenheit #twisted wonderland fandorm #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland fic #fanfiction #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland vil #disney twst #twst vil

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necros-writing-stuff · 3 years

Note

Fucked up love interests you say? Can I request Eden getting sick of Avery keeping his kid from the woods, so Eden breaks into Avery's place, ties to to a chair and makes him watch as Eden ruin's his kid. He wanted to rail them in his cabin, but fucking them stupid in front of their dad works too. Better if it starts as noncon, but the PC is addicted to Eden's cock by the end.

Would Avery get off on watching this, even with how much he hates Eden?

Got a little carried away here, so under the cut for length

Eden comes into town looking for supplies, same old, same old, only this time his eyes end up falling on non other than stuck-up Avery coming out of an expensive looking jewelers with the prettiest little thing Eden has ever seen following soon after.

He's overjoyed when you call out "Father!" to get the businessman's attention. He's your dad, not your daddy. That's good, Eden doesn't like the thought of that fucker having touched you.

Immediately, fantasies about bringing you home and having you sit in his lap so you can cockwarm him while he reads rush through his mind, and the hunter finds himself trailing the two of you to Avery's car. And memorising the make, model, and licence plate.

It takes so long to find out where you live. Big, fancy house with a pristine garden - no suprise there. Then he has to watch and find out when you'll be home alone. Easier to get you that way. Then he had to call in favours from Bailey to get some stuff to disable the over the top security system.

One day, when he's walking past, he bumps into Avery by accident. The rich prick had the audacity to sneer at him and tell him to get out of the neighbourhood, that his mere presence is bringing down the property value, before shoving past and entering his gated community. Looks like someone hasn't grown since school. If he'd stayed a moment longer, Eden would have started throwing punches.

Instead, Eden's plans to get you alone and take you away secretly morph into something else. Something more vengeful.

When the time comes, he slips in through a window and silently makes his way up to the master bedroom. Avery sleeps peacefully, in silk pyjamas of all things, and the hunter gags him before he begins binding the man. He wakes up half way through, but its too late at that point.

Avery struggles against the rope and tries to scream, skin going red at how angry he is. Its funny to see, actually. Such a high and mighty man reduced to this. The hunter drags his catch out of his room, across the hall, and into the room of his sleeping prey.

You wake up, hearing the racket, and freeze in shock at what you see before you yell out for your father. Still, you hide beneath your blanket - as if it'll protect you from anything. You don't need to be scared anyways, you're about to have the ride of your life.

Eden drops Avery on the floor, maybe purposely letting his head bounce against the wood for his own entertainment, before marching over to you and ripping away the covers.

Kick and scream all you like, the hunter finds it easy to tear your clothes off and wrestle you into submission. You're so small and delicate, you need to be protected and cared for properly - and considering what happening now, clearly the businessman isn't capable of doing that.

Just like your father, Eden ties you up. Unlike him, you're not gagged. He wants to hear you beg for him at some point tonight. Wants to hear you moan out when you cum on his prick.

"You did a good job making this one," he praises as his hands trail all over your bare skin. Avery still flails on the floor, voice going hoarse from all that screaming he's been doing. Tough luck, he's stuck until Eden decides otherwise.

You're crying and shaking, begging to be let go as the hunter flips you onto your back and spreads your legs to get a good look at that pretty little hole. His mouth waters, and he can't help himself from having a taste.

He's never gone down on someone before. He hopes you enjoy the way his tongue teases, the way he fucks you open with it.

"Please, mister, please stop!" your voice quivers as you say it, obviously affected by the stimulation he's giving you. Maybe you're just trying to put up a front for dear old dad, so he doesn't think you're a whore. It's okay, Eden will still give you what you need.

Your taste is amazing, he thinks. You're amazing, body so perfect, voice so sweet. He could tongue-fuck you all day, but tonight he has other things in mind.

The hunter is breathing heavily by the time he comes up for air, desperately hard in his pants. He nearly tears them when he shoves the fabric down his thighs, letting his massive cock out and laying over you so you can see exactly how deep it will go. The thing reaches your belly-button.

Eyes wide, you try to wiggle away. "No, it's too big! Please, it'll hurt, mister, please-"

Not listening, Eden presses the thick head to your spit-slickened hole and starts pushing in, savouring how you gasp out and go stiff. A loud bump from the floor let's him know Avery is still trying to get loose. Frustrated screams tell him it's not coming along great.

Bottoming out, Eden leans over your body and starts fucking into you like an animal, squeezing out every whimper and whine that he can from between your lips.

Full, is how you feel. So incredibly full and it's hard to breathe from how this stranger batters your poor hole. Each drag of his dick against your gummy walls send a million jolts of pleasure through your body, and you want to cry harder from the guilt that it makes you feel.

Your father is there! Bound, being forced to watch as you're raped - as you enjoy being raped - in your own bed! Who was this man, anyways? A competitor? No, he's not dressed like a man your father would bother with. He looks wild and uncaring. Rugged. And unfortunately, handsome.

"Such a delicate thing, aren't you? You'll make a wonderful spouse when I get you home," he says as he pounds away, before turning once again to Avery. "You're not going to see them again after tonight. You don't deserve to have such a sweet thing as yours. Can't even protect them in your own home."

It makes you nauseous to hear the plans he has for you. That you're about to be abducted and kept god-knows where by this mad-man with a grudge. Will he hurt you? Will you be forever kept captive?

You can't look at your father. You can't see the heartbreak, anger, maybe even disgust that could be on his face. That would be a sight that would haunt you in your dreams, and you want your memories of him to be good ones. Like the times he takes you for icecream after you do well on tests, or takes you to wonderful parties where you can wear your best clothes. Instead, you study the wild man above you. Focus on the stranger's long hair and muscled body. Try to steady your breathing and hold in moans as a coil forms in your stomach.

One last time, you attempt to get away, only to be pulled right back onto his length. The change in angle makes it hit something inside of you just right, and you keen in a high pitched tone. So good, it feels so good, and you hate this man for it.

Eden loves the dazed look in your eyes as he hammers at that special spot. How he can see all logic leave, replaced by lust and a need to get off. So he stays consistent in his movements, giving you exactly what you need, so he can feel you tighten around him, ready to milk his cock like a good little pet.

Back arching, your whole body shakes as you reach your peak, incoherent babbling falling from your mouth. Its all so hot, so addicting to see, and the hunter joins you in your bliss soon after.

Dick still twitching, Eden stays buried inside of you. He'll be starting up another round in a minute or two, but he wants to treasure this moment. Treasure how you've become putty in his hands, not even whining when he leans over and kisses you. You have such soft lips.

"Good pet. There's plenty more where that came from, I promise. You just have to keep being so well behaved, just for me," he whispers into your ear, placing butterfly kisses along your neck as he does so.

Reluctantly, he pulls back. A certain someone had gone quiet, and the last thing he needs is the bastard getting free and starting a fight.

Luckily, Avery is still where he left him. Must have gave up fighting, instead laying there with his cheek smushed against the polished floorboards, breathing hard through his nose.

"Tired already? Come on, you've barely moved. Fucking pathetic, really. What, don't love your kid enough to make a real effort to save them?" there's no reaction from the businessman, so Eden pushes further. "Nah, you're all performative. Only pretending to care so they'll be obedient and keep your reputation up, right?"

That gets his attention. Earns Eden a seething glare that only makes him laugh. Then it's back to you. To caressing your cheek as he starts pumping his hips again.

"I'll care for you, genuinely. I promise. You'll never have to doubt me," he coos, a hand coming between your legs to play with your sensitive sex. You arch up into his touch with a moan, too tired to deny your body the things it seeks.

Preserve your energy, you tell yourself. Be pliant and good so you can fight back later. Don't think about how right it feels to be impaled on this man's prick, how mind-blowing your orgasm was.

Limp, covered in his own sweat, and full of solemn defeat, Avery watches from across the room. Sorrow is what he feels, along with rope burn across his skin perfect, cared for skin. Sorrow that, yet again, Eden has won. That he can't break free of these ropes despite working so hard to keep in shape. That his only child is being defiled by such a brute.

Avery can't do anything as his baby is fucked into oblivion over and over again. Can't tune out the moment you stop begging for it to end and instead ask for more. You're only trying to please the hunter, he reasons. Only being submissive so you aren't hurt, you're smart like that.

At least, that's what he hopes.

#Eden the Lonely #Avery the Moneybags #younger au #tw noncon #spill your guts #anonymous

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