#too many ... Dark thoughts that I can't really express anywhere else

[missmonsters2]

—Lips Over Your Nightmares

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You've been having trouble sleeping. Nightmares haunt you every time you close your eyes, and Wednesday offers a solution in the form of comfort only she is capable of.

Warnings: Soft!Wednesday. Possessive!Wednesday. Intimate. Wednesday ran out of patience. Emotionally charged confessions. Kissing. Lots and lots of kissing.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

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Note: I said wednesday is soft for her girl and I will take no arguments about it. The act of kissing in this fic is peak wlw. I'm sleeping on the highway tonight and taking you all with me.

Count: 2.6k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Nighttime could be hellish.

It was probably why Wednesday adored it so much. 

You loved it too. There was something divine about the nighttime. People feared the dark, but you saw it as an opportunity to rest your weary eyes and bones. The night gave way to being invisible, and there were some days when that was all you could bear to be. 

But to Wednesday Addams, who loved the dark, you could never be invisible to her.

It was a blessing and a curse. 

To be seen by Wednesday—it was something more than many people could ever hope for. 

But to be seen when you wanted to be invisible? It was like being dragged without anything to hold onto. 

Nighttime was hellish, and you wanted to disappear into the dark as your nightmares plagued you until you couldn't even tell what was the dream and what was the reality.

But Wednesday Addams saw you. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

You've missed Enid's late-night studying session again. It's the second week in a row that Enid's gotten a text from you two minutes before the session started.

"I guess we can start," Enid told the group with a disappointed smile. "She's not coming today either."

"Fuck," Xavier sighed. "She's the only one who's good at art restoration. I was hoping she'd help me with my assignment."

Wednesday's face scrunched together mildly, and Xavier rolled his eyes. "Except for you, Wednesday. But you hate teaching me and I hate learning from you."

"I can't help it if you're stupid," Wednesday dully replied. 

"Not all of us can do it perfectly after being told what to do—told only once might I add," Xavier raised his brow at her.

Wednesday shrugged, which only seemed to irk Xavier more and to prevent them from bickering further, Yoko turned to Enid and asked, "Why isn't she coming?"

Enid shrugged, her lips quirked to the side as they pressed together. "She texted to say she wasn't feeling well and couldn't make it."

"She does seem tired lately," Bianca commented, her expression in deep thought as she recalled the last two weeks when she saw you. "Also, really quiet. Well, quieter than she normally is."

There were murmurs of agreement around while Wednesday sat silently. Of course, she also noticed, but she was waiting for you to say something to her. You always told her whatever was plaguing you, even when Wednesday told you she didn't ask. Wednesday was used to hearing your mundane thoughts or solving your problems. 

But there was nothing this time, and Wednesday couldn't figure it out. She tried to think back to see if anything had changed—if something had happened, but there was nothing. 

Two weeks of leaving you be was enough, though, Wednesday decided as she packed her things into her bag.

"What! Wednesday, are you leaving too?" Enid groaned. "But I need help with botanical sciences!" 

"Ask Bianca," Wednesday didn't even look up.

Enid looked at the siren, who had a deceitful, happy smile.

"I'd be happy to help you, Sinclair. Let's talk The Poe Cup negotiations first."

"Absolutely not!" Enid scoffed before turning back to Wednesday with pleading eyes. "Wednesday..." she whined.

"Ask Xavier," Wednesday didn't budge.

"But all he does is draw in class. There's no way he's doing well."

"I'll have you know I'm getting a C," Xavier looked affronted.

Enid merely stared at the sullen boy for a long moment before she turned back to Wednesday. "I'll just wait for you tomorrow after school."

Xavier was about to say something else when Wednesday briskly nodded, standing up and leaving the group behind without another word. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It was completely silent on the other side of your door, and from its looks, it was dark as no lights were shining underneath it.

Wednesday knocked in three successions. 

There was no answer. 

If it were anyone else, they would've believed you weren't there and left, but not Wednesday.

No, she knew you far too well. 

This was a place where you could truly be invisible with no roommate.

Wednesday knocked insistently until she heard shuffling, an agitated huff, and footsteps approaching the door. 

The door only opened marginally. You looked mildly surprised to see her, but Wednesday supposed you had too little energy to manage anything more. 

There were dark circles under your eyes, and they looked puffy and slightly red around the edges from lack of sleep. Your skin was pallor, which suited someone like Wednesday, but she decided it was not on you. Your hair lacked its usual shine, and Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she finished scrutinizing you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly. 

"Are you going to just let me stand out here?"

"I'm not in the mood for company, Wednesday," you blinked slowly. 

It was new.

You were usually happy for Wednesday's company whenever she stopped by, and you often visited her dorm. 

"I have had enough of this," Wednesday glared at you through the gap in the door. "You will let me in."

"And if I don't?" You challenged back, and Wednesday almost wanted to applaud the snippy attitude you've mustered through the tiredness.

"Then I will wait out here and ensure you don't get a. Single. Wink. Of. Sleep." It was a threat that tugged at your nerves. You looked at Wednesday, and for a brief moment, she thought she won before you shut the door in her face. 

Disbelief clouded over Wednesday's eyes. 

Then, Wednesday began to knock incessantly over and over on your door. Her knuckles knock with a vengeance, and she'll be damned if you think she doesn't take absolute joy in torturing you. 

It worked because you open the door wider this time, as you stare at Wednesday with a glare.

"What part of 'I'm not in the mood for company' was unclear, Wednesday?" Your voice was gruff, and Wednesday could tell that you were still trying to not snap at her despite how tired you were. 

And that in itself was everything. It was like that all the time. 

You were always trying to be considerate of whatever feelings you thought Wednesday might have while gently pushing her to admit which ones she was truly feeling. 

Maybe that was why Wednesday could never leave you alone now.

You were a gateway to things Wednesday never wanted, and she genuinely thought you should pay for making her desire things she swore she'd never want. 

"Say you don't want my company then," Wednesday said haughtily. 

Wednesday knew you wouldn't—couldn't, even. You never would. 

Just as you were her exception, she was yours. 

You pursed your lip at her, starting to close the door swiftly, and Wednesday stuck her foot partially into your room, preventing you from shutting the door in her face again.

"Wednesday!" You called her name, concerned you might've hurt her when the door hit her foot, but the macabre girl used the opportunity to press her palm flat against your door and pushed it wide open.

She took a step forward menacingly, forcing you to take a step back. She took another step, and you took another one back. When she was inside your room fully, she used the back of her heel to shut your door.

The resounding click of it made you swallow.

"Wednesday," you clenched your jaw, fighting against something you weren't even really sure why. But you were terrified—of her, you don't think, but rather what she was capable of doing to your heart.

"I have been patient," Wednesday's voice is quiet, but her tone is sharp, expressing every bit of her lost tolerance. "I have waited for you silently."

Wednesday kept walking towards you, backing you up until your back bumped into your desk. She looked positively irritated. "I have even refrained from saying a single unkind thing despite them running through my mind at the sight of you moping at whatever has been keeping you up at night."

"How did you know—"

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Wednesday's eyes flashed dangerously at your insinuation. You shook your head.

"Then you must take me for a fool with endless patience," Wednesday glared at you. "I don't take kindly to the kind of games you're playing."

"I'm not playing anything—"

Wednesday cut you off again. "Then explain concisely what has been keeping you up and why you've been keeping it to yourself."

Silence filled the room as you didn't speak, but Wednesday had already waited this long. She could wait a little more. 

Wednesday watched how you gripped the edge of your desk, your finger tapping underneath in rapid succession before you closed your arms over her chest. 

The stance was defensive, but you looked more reluctant than wary.

"I'm having nightmares about you."

The admittance stunned Wednesday, and she didn't know how to take it. Initially, it felt like a compliment because nightmares were so fascinating and exhilarating to experience, and Wednesday hoped to have nightmares every night she slept based on that logic. 

But you were not her. 

Nightmares, illogically, were typically not desirable.

"Wednesday, I—" You swallowed. "I have feelings for you. You're the best and worst part of my days because I actually feel clinically insane everytime I see you, spend time with you and then have to face the fact that you're not mine and I'm not yours."

Wednesday's jaw clenched, and it was noticeable. She wanted to open her mouth and demand how you could feel the exact same way she did, but she kept her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue on. 

"And I have nightmares about losing you," you confessed. "I have nightmares about losing you to Tyler or another deranged supernatural being. I have nightmares about losing you to Xavier or Enid or somebody like Tyler, minus the whole mass genocide. I have nightmares about losing you in every single imaginable way, only to wake up and realize you're not mine, and you can't lose what you don't have."

"I can't tell if the nightmare is when I'm asleep or when I'm awake." You put your hands to your face, laughing hollowly. Tears well up in the back of your eyes, burning as they were so dry from lack of sleep. "I think I'm going crazy."

Wednesday wanted to tell you that going crazy was supposed to be wonderful. But she, herself, has been experiencing the whirlwind of elation and torment you put her through and believed that going crazy wasn't as wonderful as she thought. 

But Wednesday decided then and there that there was no way up from crazy. And while it's unfortunate that she's not the brand of crazy like Uncle Fester, she's been driven mad nonetheless. It's the only thing that could explain all of this and everything that's about to come. 

Wednesday grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from her face. No visions plague her, and all she knows is that this meant her decision wouldn't end in misfortune and it wouldn't drive her down a lonely path. 

"Enid's not expecting me back tonight," Wednesday told you as she dragged you over to your bed. Her succinct tone leaves no room for you to ask any questions. 

"Um, okay?" You said anyway, thrown off by her response and feeling exhaustion saw at your bones, dragging the invisible knife back and forth.

Wednesday guided you to get into bed, and you complied. Resignation settled over you as you rested your head on your pillow. It was cold again with you being away from it, but it brought no comfort. 

You lay facing the wall, about to pull the blanket up to your chin, when you heard something drop against the floor. You turned your head and saw that Wednesday had set her backpack down, and now she was zipping off her sweater, hanging it on the pole of your bed frame, leaving her in her black long-sleeve.

Wednesday took her shoes off before using every bit of her vulnerability to steadily and carefully climb into bed with you. It was dark, with only a little light from the moonlight shining just barely into the room, and you could make out the barest hint of her features and knew she was staring intently at you, trying to ascertain if this was a boundary both of you could bear to cross. 

Her touch was slow and hesitant, revealing this was something she's never done before, but the moment you were in her arms, you clicked into place like a puzzle piece. 

Wednesday was cool against your body, but she was warming from your touch and shared heat trapped under the blanket. She smelt like rain and dry leaves, and you felt like you were going insane. You buried your face into her neck. 

Wednesday wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, allowing the things she's been desiring for a while to come to fruition. She couldn't tell if this was making her saner or driving her closer to insanity.

It was deliriously pleasant.

"Who said you're not mine?" Wednesday muttered into the shell of your ear.

It's suddenly not enough, and Wednesday now knew the answer was that it was driving her closer to insanity. 

Wednesday pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes that were so tired just moments ago. The dark circles remained, but you were wide awake, speckles of oblivion in your eyes.

Despite how everything else changed as you became sleep deprived, your lips still remained full and soft. 

Wednesday moved to close the gap, sighing softly as her lips slanted against yours. 

How could she feel like jagged glass, splintered and sharp, while you felt so soft, practically melting around her serrated edges?

Wednesday only pulled back marginally, cupping your jaw and the back of your neck. "Who told you that you don't already have me? I want names."

You couldn't even think straight with how her breath felt on your lips. You pushed forward again, pressing your lips against Wednesday's insistently.

Was it possible for reality to be better than a dream? 

Your lips slotted over Wednesday's over and over and over. Wednesday tugged at your bottom lip, smoothing over it with her tongue before it dipped at the edge of your mouth where your tongue met hers. 

It was dizzying, something that frequently happened to Wednesday when it was too warm. She usually hated the sensation of it, but, of course, as many things were exceptions when it came to you, this was one of them too. 

"Your nightmares are inane."

You couldn't help but laugh against Wednesday's lip. 

"I think I am actually insane," you grinned, and you saw a ghost of something similar on Wednesday's lips. 

"Sleep," Wednesday ordered you, kissing you chastely initially but ending up biting your bottom lip tenderly. Her hands pull you closer, her lips resting on your forehead. "I'm here, so nothing will plague you."

The softness of Wednesday is unimaginable, and you're nearly skeptical.

"But—"

"No." Wednesday countered bluntly. "I'm telling you that I'm here and yours. You may come to regret it, knowing how...difficult I am. But you're stuck with me. Congratulations," Wednesday tilts her head slightly, brushing against yours, "or condolences."

But you could hear Wednesday's heartbeat, and it was dark, and you were so tired, but you were close enough to hear Wednesday's heartbeat. 

Your lips tingle from Wednesday's kisses. You felt your eyelids grow heavy along with your body, and the way Wednesday shifted told you she was satisfied.

Nighttime could be hellish, but Wednesday Addams saw you—she always would. And all she had to do was put her lips over your nightmares.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

[thepaperpanda]

The Emotional Reunion || Sirius Black x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: After meeting Sirius in the Diagon Alley, you're in shock - did he actually escape Azkaban prison or was your mind playing tricks on you?

Warnings: none

Word count: 959

Authors: Bear & Cass

A/N: today’s prompt: Cuddling

He despised the number 12 Grimmauld Place. With all of his strength.

However, since escaping Azkaban, Sirius has offered the home to the Order of the Phoenix. It became his secret hideout, where he tried to get his life back on track after being imprisoned for a long time.

Despite regretting his decision to stay there, Sirius discovered one argument that proved he was wrong with all the hatred he harbored in his heart for so long - he met you nearby one day.

You couldn't believe what you saw when you first saw him; were your own minds playing tricks on you?As soon as you realized that it was him, there were no words to describe how happy you were. The first thing you did was throw yourself into his arms and embrace him tightly.

Sirius didn't want to draw attention to himself by embracing you in the middle of Diagon Alley, so he asked if you'd like to have a cup of tea near where he stayed. 

As you gripped Sirius' shoulder, your arm twisted away from you; the next thing you knew, everything went dark; your eardrums seemed to be squeezed deeper into your skull; the next thing you knew, you and Sirius were standing in the middle of a long, dark corridor.

Seeing the place, you smiled; there was no way he could take you anywhere else. Just to make sure he was really here, you glanced at him again. "It's going to take a lot of tea if we want to discuss everything," you whispered, smiling at him.

Kreacher was asked by Sirius to make a pot of tea and prepare some biscuits he had baked the previous day.

He then led you to the living room, where he invited you to sit on the couch. "There isn't much to talk about. I've been immersed in the most poignant darkness you could ever imagine."

Looking at him, you shook your head; in an attempt to make any sense of what you were saying, you moved your hands frantically. "Why didn't you contact me or come see me? How did you escape?"

"Let me keep it a secret forever, it cost me everything," he said as he crossed his legs. "I did not contact you because it was not a wise idea; they were searching everywhere for me, which could have led to trouble for you."

"With or without you, I tend to get into trouble, especially with my niffler running around," you rolled your eyes and moved closer to him. "I've been worried. Every day I wondered how you're doing. I've missed you dearly."

"So many years, right?"

As you stared at him, you sighed and said, "Too many years, indeed."

Seeing your expressions, he could tell you were relieved that he was free again. Taking your shoulders in his arms, Sirius embraced you, hugging you softly. "I'm so happy to see you doing well, Y/N."

Hugging him as tight as you could, you smiled. There was no way you could keep it together anymore. "There is no single word that can describe my happiness now. I thought I would never see you again in my life, but here you are, with me again."

As he brushed a strand of your hair away from your flushed cheek, he asked, "Will you join us in our fight against Voldemort?"

"Does Niffler like shiny things?" You asked, raising an eyebrow as you cupped his hand and nuzzled it. "Of course I do. It's been a long time since I promised to follow you no matter what. And I don't break my promises."

Kreacher quickly served tea and biscuits.

Slowly, Sirius played with your hair as he held you close. "Upon hearing how eager you are, I'm conflicted. It won't be easy or safe, but I can't afford to lose you."

You nodded. "Let's not think about that right now. Let's just enjoy the tea."

A small mug filled with hot liquid was handed to you by him as he said, "I wish you could meet my godson. I believe he will play a major role in the battle against Voldemort."

Before taking a little sip, you blew on the cup and smiled softly. "I'm sure I'll have a chance to meet him."

He downed the mug quickly, returned it to the table, and then wrapped his arms tightly around your figure, holding you close. "I missed you so much. Every night, I dreamed about you."

Putting the cup away, you sat comfortably on his lap. As your arms wrapped around him, your head rested on his shoulder. "There are no words to describe how much I missed you. When I first saw you, I was sure that you were a ghost. Thankfully, I was mistaken."

"The only thing that brought light to the darkness surrounding me was you. Whenever I thought of you, I felt a little better."

"It doesn't matter anymore. You are free and back with me," you said softly, gently touching his chest.

The pieces of Sirius' heart that had been struggling to fit into this world became so quiet as he cuddled with you, as if they had found peace, as if they needed your glue to bridge their gaps and connect together again. "My love," he said quietly.

Assuredly, you said, "I am here and I am not leaving. I will never let you go."

The soul connection of your eyes, your sweet touch, and the strength of a long-awaited hug told the story of the emotional reunion Sirius was experiencing. Having joy take center stage once again, filling Sirius' heart to the brim, was a sweet release, a relief that made him gasp quietly. "It's so pleasant to be reunited."

#sirius black and reader #sirius and reader #sirius black and you #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius black and y/n #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius and you #sirius and y/n #sirius x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #sirius fluff #sirius black fic #sirius black drabble #paperpanda fluffember #fluffember 2022 #fluffember

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

38

Seventh skull, whole.

Are we bout to see Cytherea with the steel chair again -

The path was cleared for you to die, and the lovely woman lying chained to the marble had not been able to bear to watch your progress on it; or perhaps it was just that she had never existed, except within a ten-year-old’s fever dream.

I have been wondering about the Body, now. Since God mentioned that there was no way Harrow could have entered the tomb - whose form does she take? It can't be Gideon's - Harrow would have recognised her from the picture in Camilla's shuttle.

Is the real body, who is buried in the Tomb - is it A.L. then?

And Harrow's hallucination -

Well, the walls are cracking. It's all getting harder and harder to ignore. The Body has been with you as a reminder that you're insane - but if I'm right and that insanity is manufactured, an artifact, then with the reality of everything getting more, well, real, it must be harder to uphold the "insanity".

But on the penultimate night before the Resurrection Beast was due, you dropped your glove down the side of the bed; you had to kneel down to retrieve it. And you found that far beneath your bed—hidden in the darkness where you had once lain, waiting for the Saint of Duty—lay an inert corpse: the missing body of Cytherea.

oh FUCK!!! that's about as bad a jumpscare as a book can give you, honestly.

Is it really her? God said he couldn't detect her body anywhere on the station. (And that would have been before Harrow put up the blood wards.)

You said: “The body, Tridentarius. Cytherea’s body. Cytherea’s body is beneath my bed.” She did not answer. You rattled, mindless: “On its back, arms at the sides, feet arranged at a thirty-degree angle.” Ianthe sat up and brushed down her knees. She looked at you with an expression you could not parse in the diminished light, only it had been made with great care. She said: “I—can’t see anything, Harrowhark.”

Curious -

Harrow can't usually touch her hallucinations, as her experience previously with the Body shows. So this is not a hallucination.

So... is Ianthe lying? She's refusing to humour Harrow and touch the body. She might be lying. It's hard to say.

Or... something else is going on here, again.

You looked at your door. You looked beneath your bed. You went to your sink, and you ran the tap until you could splash the coldest water possible on your face: you took five deep breaths in, and five deep breaths out. You closed your eyelids and rolled your eyes in your sockets. Then you went and looked beneath your bed again. Cytherea was gone. There were cuffs of bone glued to the floorboards.

I'm kinda betting on something else is going on here. Are Harrow's hallucinations intensifying? Is her brain being messed with even more now? Or does Cytherea have powers that none of the others know about?

A fucking mystery, once more - and JUST when I thought we were about to get some answers.

On the last day, for the last time, the Saint of Duty tried to kill you. [...] “Don’t go to the River. End it yourself. Before they breach. Cut off your oxygen. Or however you like.” At your expression, Ortus added as though it were an explanation: “So you don’t … suffer.” “Why do you care if I suffer?” “Because I was the one who failed you,” he said briefly. “I pulled too many punches.” And: “Sorry.” And, most horribly of all: “This wasn’t my idea.”

Oh my GOD.

Yeah, Harrow, I also want to know: Whose idea??

In a way, it helped. Nothing added to your resolution to live so much as someone else suggesting that you die. Ten minutes later you were eating leftover stew in the kitchen with something close to animation, choking down your last lunch before the apocalypse. And you were angry. You were always such a little bitch when you were angry.

Almost certainly Gideon, then.

"You were always such a little bitch when you were angry."

The tone of this is so sad. It seems to imply that Harrow is, in fact, going to die - it's told in past tense. "You were always..." I know we've been in past tense this entire time, but still...

I still really want Harrow to survive. It's not looking overly likely, though.

#harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth liveblog #htn liveblog #tlt liveblog #htn spoilers #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #last one for today

[arabe]

it's a lot to think about. right? how many failed auditions and attempts have crossed her path already? but she can't give up. ara isn't the youngest sprite around anymore, but that... that doesn't mean anything! the girl can still compete and do her best. her toughest competition should be herself, but she knows that the crowd that also attends the same auditions as her also are in a mindset of their own. it's a whole ordeal and it's so massive. she'd missed out on the first season already, and marvelled at that whilst following up with it in between her lessons and job. if she's lucky... she'll make it in to at least learn more skills through the show, or at least be memorable enough. it's especially daunting when all the large labels are there.

they're split into separate groups and ara finds herself with with lime entertainment. they want a performance, she will give them a performance. somehow, there's an inkling that this is the most straight-forward part of the process. ara knows how to dance, and she's practiced how to keep her voice steady whilst dancing. sure, there are areas where she can improve in singing or rapping, but she can be molded into it. she's got the base. she can only improve. she has to think positively because nobody else in this industry will do it for her. for her solo, ara performs a part of the choreography from k/da pop/stars, a dance she is rather comfortable with and has danced to before. she wants to showcase what she has, so she also chooses to sing for the audition. despite not being the best singer, that she is on tune and can maintain her breath while dancing. the sixty seconds feels like the fastest and longest minute, all at the same time. and then she's whisked off to the audition portion with SR media. the time to absorb what actually occurred is lost on her as the transition was much too fast, with the questionnaires next. this - this definitely is more difficult than the performance part with lime. but it's important too. quite like a job interview, where she never practices the questions and wings them. that is... definitely what this reminds her of.

"what style of music/performance suits you best and why?"

ara clears her throat before responding. although it's not practiced, this is something she's thought about before. "i really enjoy upbeat music and performances with complex choreography. i would say that while i enjoy listening to ballads, i may not be the best at performing one at this moment. a song that is harmonious with a thought out dance? i am all for that. upbeat pop, rnb, hip hop. cutesy, even, as long as it is energetic. i enjoy expressing myself through dance the most."

"why do you want to become a kpop idol?"

"this sort of relates to the last question but i enjoy dancing a lot. i enjoy performing on a stage, and i enjoy being in the spotlight. i've danced in a group before and i loved performing on stage and in competitions for that, but i aspire to make a career out of it. to be able to spread it with fans, and a group to become our best selves. that would be cool."

"would you rather go to a tropical island or to the north pole?"

"i would go to the north pole. i've heard that depending on when you go, the days can be mostly daylight, or night and dark. that would be marvelous to experience and quite fascinating, something that i haven't been able to experience anywhere else thus far! also i'm not very good at swimming... so the north pole intrigues me the best." she wonders what this question has to do with the rest of the questions that have been asked so far, but it seems that not all questions were about performing. it

“What is the most interesting place that you have been to wearing the shoes that you’re wearing now?”

"oh... the most interesting place with this pair of shoes.. well.. i actually wore a specific pair of shoes from my collection." it was one of her few dance sneakers. not the freshest pair, but a bit well loved and definitely danced through. "the dance studio that i work at! that would be the most interesting place. i teach very young kids in beginner dance and lets just say, there is never a day that is the same. i am very privileged that way." she wished she had something more exciting to say about her shoes but this pair were well-loved, and not that well-travelled in her opinion.

surely, studio delta's audition was last for a reason. ara wasn't sure what to expect, the initial video such a daunting warning. something that she can do beyond... dancing or singing. ara had some tricks up her sleeve, but what would make her stand out? well... she didn't actually prepare anything with her but luckily she does know how to juggle. looking through her bag, she tries to find some things that would make do for juggling. it's the best she can do with what she has. it's been a while since ara's done this too, so she's rusty too. heavens. she has a lacrosse ball for whenever she accidentally hurt her foot, and... a makeup compact, and she unclips a plushie chain off her bag. this will have to do. "i... can show you how i juggle!" the items were different weights so she might be a bit off kilter, but ara knows she'll have to do it. if anything falls, she can laugh it off ( but again, positivity here. she can do it. ) she starts with the ball first, and then lumps in the lightest item which is the plushie. so far so good, before tossing up the compact too. she better not drop that. seven years of bad luck? hell no. but once the momentum picks up, ara's able to continue doing it again- just like riding a bike. after doing it for some time, she pulls back, extremely relieved that nothing dropped through the bit. "and no, i wasn't apart of a circus act before!"

#be:ngs2p1 #wc: 1048

[ventdetourment]

hhhhhh

#cw death #cw cancer #yeah so today has been the 'I feel like shit' song #did not want to witness someone being pronounced dead on my way to work #did not want to learn that a family friend will not make it #too fucking much #I also destroyed my knee by hitting it on a seat but that's minimal #so fucking tired and sad #why did I check to confirm it #tourment.txt #too many ... Dark thoughts that I can't really express anywhere else #I don't want to worry my friends. I'm not going to do it #They're just overwhelmingly present and mostly passive.

[wri0thesley]

Okay but hear me out, gojo teaching his girl how to properly touch herself bc she can't make herself cum and has been edging herself unintentionally and gojo helps out with his long fingers 🥺

instruction - gojo x fem!reader (2k)

you might be having trouble, but gojo doesn’t mind playing sensei to you. 

warnings: nsfw/minors dni! oral sex, assisted masturbation, fingering. afab reader with fem pronouns

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

The first time that Gojo gives you an orgasm, it’s using his tongue. His head is buried between your thighs, soft noises of praise coming out of his mouth interspersed with the flutter of his kisses on your inner thighs and the downright filthy sound of his mouth dragging through your slick. His tongue toys with your clit, swirling it and sucking it, circling it before he returns back to flicking the tip over it with mountingly quicker and harder motions. Your hands are knit in his hair, and as you feel the ball of pressure inside of you finally split into a thousand tiny pieces, you tug on the silver-pale strands in your grip and wail into the ceiling. He guides you through the aftershocks with slower, deeper laps of his tongue across your cunt before he lazily pulls himself up onto his elbows, looking at you with those big blue eyes, galaxies swirling with them.

“You were so noisy, doll,” he murmurs. “I know I’m good with my tongue, but hell - if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that seems like the first time you’ve ever got to cum--” 

You feel yourself squirm, embarrassment flooding your thoughts. It’s not like you haven’t tried! But something in you always seems to stop you coming, and you’ve spent too many nights frustratedly falling asleep with your thighs a mess after being unable to bring yourself any kind of relief.

You can’t really hide anything from Satoru Gojo, though. 

The look on your face tells him all that he needs to know - that flustered, half-guilty expression, your bitten lips darkened from the dig of your teeth. His own expression softens indescribably, those long fingers sliding up your damp thighs as he coos, all pity; “Oh, baby girl . . . We can’t have that, can we?”

He coaxes you, words coated in sugar, eyes gentle, to show him how you’ve been touching yourself. Before you know what’s happening, he’s taking your hand and pulling it down to rest over where you’re still slick with your own arousal and Gojo’s saliva. You’re still adorably sensitive, flinching at the pads of your fingers over your tender clit, so Gojo gently tugs on your wrist.

“Try circling it,” he murmurs. “You’ll hurt yourself if you go all in with the stimulation--”. You do your best to follow his orders for a few minutes, until the sensitivity wears off a bit. And then, he’s kneeling between your thighs and pushing your knees up a little so he has a better view of how exactly you’re rubbing at your petal-soft folds, how you’ve been treating yourself up until now. “Show me exactly how you’ve done it before,” he breathes, the crystalline sapphires of his eyes set on the space between your legs like he’s a patron at an art gallery. “Lemme see why you haven’t gotten to come, baby.”

You do your best. It’s the same as it always is, though - you rub at your clit with inexperienced, clumsy fingers. Heat seems to build up inside you, but you never manage to get it to go further than that build up. Even when you use your other hand to thrust two of your fingers inside, it feels like you’re reaching for something that isn’t quite there. It’s so annoying. You’ve read guides on how to do this, watched porn videos in the hope it’ll help you with your block - but nothing seems to work. And now, you’re being watched by your boyfriend, and you can’t help but be hot and embarrassed . . . and kind of turned on. The way that he’s looking at you. The concern knitting his usually smooth brow.

Gojo watches you, pensive, as you feel tears of frustration bubble up in the corners of your eyes. You move your hands away from your cunt, curling them into fists and giving the bed beneath you an exasperated thump. 

(Gojo’s eyebrows raise as he sees you removing the stimulation entirely. You poor little thing. No wonder you haven’t managed it.) 

“I-I can’t get it to go further,” you say, agitated. “I-it gets to a point, and then it just seems to stop! It builds up and it builds up but it just stays there!”

Gojo shifts closer to you. His hands rest on your thighs. “You know what I think?” He asks you, his voice very low. His cock has been hard in his pants since the moment he got you on his bed, never mind the orgasm he gave you with his tongue - but it’s a damn right tragedy you’ve never been able to make yourself come, and (much as he doesn’t want to admit it) being Gojo’s girlfriend can be a lonely life. He’s away on missions so often, and he loves to tease, and he knows that you’ll have his cock on the mind forever once you’ve had it for the first time. So it’s better for both of you if you learn exactly what you’re doing. “I think y’just haven’t had the right teacher yet. And . . . you’re in luck,” he flashes you one of those patented Satoru Gojo grins, half-unhinged and half-handsome. “Because I’m right here and willin’ to take some time out of my busy schedule to teach you all about the human body--!”

“Don’t put it like that,” you say, weakly, as he reaches between your thighs and pulls the lips of your cunt apart. He looks back at your sex; the swollen clit, the hole begging to be filled, the absolute mess you’ve both made with tongues and fingers and your earlier orgasm. 

“You always stop before it goes further, right? Because you get bored and frustrated?” He clicks his tongue, shaking your head in mock scolding, as you squirm. “Baby girl, you gotta have temerity. You’ve been edging yourself ever since you figured out how to jack off.” His thumb swipes down through the slit as he lets go of his thumb’s hold. “Play with your clit for me. C’mon.”

The way he meets your eyes tells you that this is an order, and Gojo when he slips into the mode of a commander is not a man to be messed with. You hesitantly slide your fingers back between your legs to gently circle your swollen clit, your touch incredibly gentle. Gojo’s pretty mouth tilts into a smile. “Use your other hand to play with your chest,” he says. “I’d ask you to use it for something else, but . . .” The smile widens, showing a hint of white teeth. “I think I’m much better placed to do that.”

You are about to ask him what he means when his hand brushes over yours and then a fingertip gently pushes into the pulsing ring of your entrance. His fingers are slender - it does not hurt for him to push them in, but you are still robbed of your breath by the sensation of it plunging slowly into your silky depths. He gives one or two cursory pumps, before withdrawing his finger entirely so he can add a second beside it.

This one is more of a stretch, but it is a stretch in the best possible way. You use the hand not playing with your clit to squeeze the weight of your breast, your breath hitching. Thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak, as Gojo finds a slow rhythm to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s deeper, right?” He rasps. “Feels better? Like places you’ve never been able to reach before?” He crooks his fingers just so and magic seems to spark, a spot on your inner walls your own shorter fingers have never managed to gain ground on. Your thighs tremble and you gasp out his name. “I thought so.” He swallows. You look up at him through the fan of your eyelashes and you see the lust in his eyes is palpable. He catches your gaze and holds it, unafraid. 

“I want you to be rougher with yourself,” he growls, low. “Press a little harder--”

The hand not currently fucking two digits into you takes hold of your wrist, pushing you to put more pressure on your clit. Fuck. The sensation of his hand guiding your wrist’s movements, in tandem with the fact that his fingers have not yet stopped hitting that special spot with every single thrust . . . You can feel the ball tightening, pulling in on itself, like a hundred knots in the same piece of thread. 

“If you didn’t have me,” Gojo rasps, and the sound of his voice gritty and dark sends a jolt of pleasure throughout you, “You’d be stopping now. You’d think you weren’t gonna get anywhere. But . . . you will, doll-- you’ve just gotta push past it--” He takes his hand away from your wrist, but you continue the pace and the pressure that he chose for you.

You whimper out his name, the hand playing with your chest squeezing hard (if you have bruised fingerprints on the soft curve of your breast tomorrow, Gojo will laugh gently at them and press on them a little meanly before he soothes you all over with kisses). 

“You gonna promise me you’ll do that when you’re alone, yeah?” Gojo asks. He’s sounding a little breathless. Your eyes manage to focus long enough to see that he’s rubbing himself through his underwear, an impressive bulge pressing against the expensive fabric. He sees you looking and gives another feral grin that seems to echo through you. “D-don’t worry, we’ll take care’a that after your lesson--”

“I promise,” you breathe, as he curls his fingers just right against that spot and your own fingers reach fever pitch. You don’t know if you’re promising to do it the way that he taught you, or if you’re promising that you’ll take care of his cock, or if you’re promising something else to him entirely - your life, your love, your very being - but you do know that the knotted threads inside of you snap all at once as Gojo’s fingertips reach so deep, so good, so perfectly inside of you.

Your channel clenches and constricts, spasming around the digits buried in it to the knuckles. Heat washes over you with a feeling of peace, different to when he’d used his tongue on you and yet similar. Gojo is practically purring as he watches you and feels you, a gush of slick coating his fingers even as he guides you over the crest of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” Gojo’s murmuring, as your breathing (when did you start panting?) evens out. “Oh, so good for me, doll . . .” His fingers come out of you with a wet pop and he brings them to his mouth, tongue flickering out teasingly to taste you. “So sweet for me, too . . .” He sighs, his eyes closing for a moment as he enjoys the lingering flavour. When those eyes open again, they’re lit with hunger.

“Well,” he says. “whaddya say? Think you can come like that next time you touch yourself?” He raises his eyebrows, a playful grin on his face. “Think y’can come at all?”

You nod fervently, and win a chuckle from Gojo. He shifts on the bed, pushing the underwear he’s still wearing down to his thighs to reveal the thick jut of his cock. You’re breathless at the sight of it, already needy despite the fact your second orgasm of the night was scant minutes ago. 

“I want a video of it,” he tells you. “Next time you touch yourself. I want a video of you and I want you t’say my name as you do it. But for now . . .” He gently taps the wet (so, so, wet - ruddy and flushed and dripping with his pre-come) head of his cock against your thigh. “I think we’ve got some other business to attend to, yeah?”

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #writing #jjk posting #afab reader #fem pronouns #not sfw #Anonymous

[elles-writing]

Little Secret

Request: Wonderful! Could please write an escenario in which y/n (half elf and half human) was part of the company cause Gandalf hired her. She and Kili fell for each other and secretly started courting. Once Erebor was reclaimed everything was going back to normal. Thorin asked her to stay for as long as she liked. When Fili & Kili's mom got there, she had lots of meetings with Thorin so y/n was not able to properly meet her. The day that they are actually introduced, Thorin announces Kili's and Fili's arranged marriages which took everyone by surprise. Y/n and Kili try to figure and fix things out in order to convince Thorin to put off the arrange marriage but it does not work. Therefore, y/n decides to leave Erebor and ends up leaving to Dale; befriending/ helping Bard and his kids.  During her time there she finds out that she was pregnant with Kili's child. However, she never notifies Kili nor goes to Erebor to announce it thinking that he had his duty as a prince and it would be harmful for him/ his arranged marriage. So, she makes the decision to raise the baby on her own. Time goes by and on a normal day (when she was 9 months pregnant) that she's walking around Dale  while feeling contractions she bumps into Kili. Thank you so much!❤️ Sorry for the long message 😅 - @just-a-dreamer23

A/N: I know, I know, this is soo long. But, I enjoyed writing this story!! I've been trying to overcome my lack of motivation to write, so maybe it isn't as good in some parts, as my other stories, but I wanted to keep it that way, so I hope you enjoy anyways.

Tags: @guardianofrivendell @just-a-dreamer23 @anjhope1 @lathalea

The afternoon was hot. The best thing to do, was to take a nap. At least, in your opinion.

Nothing would attack in this heat, you thought, as you rested under a tree. A while after, you noticed pointy hat and grey cloak of the same colour. You lazily waved.

"Gandalf, long time no see!" Gandalf smiled at you.

"Good afternoon, Y/N." You stood up and looked at him, waiting. Gandalf never came just...for no reason.

"How are you doing?" Gandalf asked, and you shrugged.

"I'm just wandering around, as usual. You know me. I never stay in one place for too long." You said. Gandalf knew that, obviously. Being a child of an elf and a human, you felt like you never belong anywhere.

Elves felt really tense and quiet, and humans were quite loud for you, because of your hearing. And you aged lot slower than them, so making friends was also quite...not it.

"I've been looking for you, to join an adventure," You curiously gave him a look.

"An adventure? What kind of adventure?"

"Well," he looked at you.

"You know about Erebor and the line of Durin, right?" You frowned at him, and quickly shook your head.

"Gandalf, I can't-I can't join the dwarves! They will hate me! Everyone knows they hate the elves, and I'm half elf!" You said.

"Well, who said they will know? You owe me help," he reminded you. You thought back to when he healed you after orcs attacked you, and you sighed. He was right. This was the least you could do.

"And, who knows. Maybe they will like you," he gave you a look, and you folded your hands on your chest, and let out a sigh.

"Alright then. Where and when am I supposed to be?" He gave you all the information you needed. And you started your way to the Shire, looking at the first evening stars, as the starlight is what the Elves of Mirkwood love so much.

You got to the Shire around late afternoon after three days of traveling, and smiled. The hobbits and their houses were tiny, so you couldn't help, but smile. Maybe it won't be that bad, having perhaps a hobbit friend, after all...

-

You remembered the moment when you first met Kili. You thought Gandalf was there at Bilbo's house, but when you opened the door...

"Are you Master Boggins?" You frowned at the brunette dwarf.

"Do I look like a hobbit to you?" He looked at the other dwarf, then back at you, but there was Bilbo already.

Later on the journey, he found you without your cape on. It was your turn for bathing, but him and Fili forgot some their things at the river.

You just put off your cloak, and put your hair down from your headband. You heard steps, so you quickly turned around.

"You are..." Fili started.

"...an elf?" Kili finished. You huffed.

"Half elf. My mother was...human." you whispered. Painful memories of your early life came up, and you blinked to stop the tears.

"Don't tell anyone, please..." you looked at them. Both Fili and Kili must've seen something in your expression, that made them realize the importance. They nodded. Kili was, however, curious. Lot more than before, and asking you about elves. You talked about it when Thorin was far enought to not hear what was your conversations about, but it wouldn't matter much. Gandalf told them you spent part of your life living with the elves, which was true.

In fact, Kili became fascinated by you. He liked you before, and had a feeling, which he wasn't sure about. Interest, curiousity, the need to protect you, adoration...

In the moment he saw you, he realized you were his One, his love for life. And when you got closer, he asked you to court him. You said yes. From then on, you shared many quiet and stolen kisses and moments together, in the shadows of forests or your bedrooms in pubs.

The moment everyone else (except for Bilbo and the Durin brothers) found out, was when you came into Mirkwood. Thranduil ordered his guards to take your cloak and headband off, and now, everyone could see your pointy ears.

There was a moment of silence.

"What made an elf, to travel with group of dwarves?" You gulped and looked down.

"I'm a-a half elf," you whispered.

"My father was from here." You explained, and the king shot you a glare. He was not stupid. He knew you tried to pull his attention away.

"Take them to the dungeons, except for Oakenshield," he said.

When you made yourself as comfortable as you could on the cold floor, you overheard the dwarves trying to find out who you actually were and what you wanted.

To your surprise, they didn't talk about you in a bad way. Just curiousity. Thankfully.

-

"Do you think she will like me?" You said to Kili. He was writing a letter to his and Fili's mother, Dis, the happy news - Erebor was reclaimed, and they all survived. It's been a week since, and Thorin decided it was the right thing to let his sister know as soon as possible. She was surely worried.

Kili turned to you.

"Like you? Like you? She is going to love you," Kili grinned at you, and you had to smile a little too.

"Yeah, but...you know, I'm not a dwarf," you said your worry aloud. It was true. Being a half-elf, you and Kili started courting in secret. Thorin was not really kind to you, at least the first half of the journey. However, the rest of the Company liked you lot more. Especially Kili. After a while of knowing of what did you feel, you decided to tell him. To your surprise, but happiness, Kili shared those feelings. And since then, you had a tiny braid, hidden in your hair, and Kili as well.

And stole many, many secret kisses.

"I don't think mum is going to have issue with this," Kili stood up, and gently placed your hair behind your ear.

"You're my One, and you make me incredibly happy. I'm sure she won't have problem with you being half elf," You cupped his cheek, and softly smiled, as you looked deep in his kind brown eyes.

"I love you too, my short Prince," He stood on his toes and kissed you, getting a giggle from you. He pouted, when he heard you called him short, but you knew he didn't mind it.

You kissed him, and felt his smile on your lips. You were leaning down, when suddenly you lost balance, and both you and Kili ended up lying on the floor. Kili and you let out a yelp, but then broke into giggles.

"I love you," Kili said, when you finally stopped laughing. You cuddled into his chest and breathed in his scent. Kili smelled like smoke, food and fresh air.

"I love you too," Kili gently stroke your hair, and you got up.

"Where are you going?"

"You have to finish the letter, and I promised Tilda I will take a walk with her before the dinner." You helped Kili to get up.

"Alright my beloved, have a good time," he gently kissed you, and sat back to his desk. You smiled, and ruffled his hair.

"You too, my dearest." You smiled, and left the room.

-

It's been a few months, and you were finally, finally going to meet Kili and Fili's mother, Dis. She has been there for around two weeks by now, but, you haven't got the chance to meet her and be introduced to her yet.

You were officially going to meet her during upcoming celebration. Needless to say, you were freaking out.

Your stomach was tight from anxiety for a few days already, and that afternoon, it felt absolutely horrible. You haven't eaten whole day, just because all you thought about was the evening.

You spent around an hour of putting on and off different dresses from your wardrobe, trying to figure out which one to wear.

"Y/N?" Kili knocked on the door of your chambers.

"C'me in," you said. He came in, and his eyes widened, when he seen you sitting in front of the mirror, your eyes red and the mess everywhere.

"What am I supposed to wear? I have nothing to wear!" You started crying. All the stress and anxiety in past three months got the best of you. Random moments of crying, because of tiny things, were happening on daily basis.

"Dear, what is happening?" He pulled your hair back behind your ears.

"I-I just want-want your mum to like me," you muttered.

"And...it stresses me out." Kili nodded, and shortly hugged you.

"She is going to love you no matter which dress you wear, I promise." He whispered to your ear.

"Now, I think..." Kili looked around.

"I think the...the dark green dress will be perfect."

When you changed into the dress Kili picked you, Kili brushed and styled your hair. He pulled the top section into a clip, and you pulled a few strands, to frame your face. You smiled at yourself in the mirror.

"You ready?" Kili asked. You just silently nodded.

As you walked down the hall, Kili was trying to figure out where his uncle, brother and mother went to. He couldn't see them anywhere, and he was sure he was once in a while not late.

When you entered the huge throne room, you could see Fili, and let out a breath of relief.

"Fili, have you seen-"

"Kili, there you are," A woman came from behind Fili, and looked over her younger son.

"Have you brushed your hair?" Kili huffed.

"Of course I did." He said quietly, so nobody could hear him. He was visibly embarrassed, and you let out laugh. She suddenly turned to you. Her deep blue eyes reminded you Thorin, but they had the same twinkle as Kili and, occasionally, Fili.

"I don't remember I seen you here before," she said.

"Well, I usually spend my time outside of Erebor, so I think that might be it," You nervously smiled. She hummed.

"I-I'm not a part of the royal family," you said, and almost groaned. Now that was embarrassing for sure.

"Y/N, this is my and Kili's mum, Dis. Mum, this is Y/N," Fili said, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I-um-" You tried to say something, but she pulled you in short hug.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," she gave you a smile, and then went back between the guests with Fili.

You let out a breath.

"That was embarrassing," you groaned. Kili chuckled.

"No, not at all. She likes you." It suddenly felt like it was much easier to breathe.

"She-she does?" Your eyes widened, and Kili nodded.

"Of course! And you can bet she will steal you to me during the evening,"

"How do you know that?" You turned to him with surprise written all over your face.

"She is my mother. I know her for a long time." He just said.

"She seems to be...different from Thorin," you said, hoping it wouldn't come out as offensive. Kili chuckled.

"Mum and Uncle really aren't that different. Uncle just focuses more on the kingdom and mum, on family," Kili said in low voice, so that only you could hear it.

When you sat down to the table, where the royal family and the Company was, you looked around. You and Kili did secretly hold hands under the table, and you talked to Dis, who was sitting across the table.

"Good evening, everyone," Thorin said, and the people got more quiet.

"It's my pleasure to meet all of you here today. I have some things to say, before the celebration starts." Thorin paused, and Kili leaned near you with a grin.

"It's just a few formalities, don't worry, love." You smiled at him back with tight smile. You felt something was not right. Thorin talked about the kingdom a little at first. The next news was, however, what you were afraid of.

"I'm very happy to say, my nephew Fili is going to marry-" you let out a breath. Kili turned to you with worry.

"Do you feel okay?" He asked, when suddenly...

"And my nephew Kili, who also has already arranged marriage, with-"

Kili stared at Thorin, and you as well.

"Kili-Kili, please-" you tried to stop Kili from going to Thorin. Kili was visibly angry, his jaw was tight, and body tense.

"Kili? What is happening?" Thorin came and let through his teeth. You suddenly felt everyone's eyes on you.

"I need some fresh air," you whispered and walked away, as quickly as you could. When you left, you came in your chambers, kneeled to your bed, and started crying.

You knew it. You should've known before.

Thorin would do this. Even when Fili and Kili were children, he would make sure they had wives already. They were princes. They needed to have a wife.

And Thorin...Thorin would never allow Kili to court you or marry you.

The next day, Kili came into your room. He had dark circles under his eyes, and gave you weak smile.

"I promise we will work this out," he muttered, and pulled you close to his chest.

Kili was asleep - and you let him - but, you thought about your situation, and tried to come up with possible solutions.

However, it was as if there weren't any.

It's been a few days, and you cuddled into your blanket. You fell asleep, and when you woke up, you looked around the room.

This place isn't for me anymore, you thought, and started packing your clothes into your bag. You changed into tunic and trousers, and wrote a letter to Kili, that you were sorry, but it was probably better to have a wife his Uncle would like, that you were leaving and never coming back, so he shouldn't be looking for you.

You quietly left the palace, and walked out in the morning. The air was fresh and nice, and for a moment, you forgot your sadness.

You walked to Dale, and decided to meet Bard. You had nowhere to go, and maybe staying there would be good, before you'd go...somewhere else.

The guards let you in, and as you thought of going to Rivendell, you noticed Bard.

"Bard?" He turned to you, and nodded at you.

"Hi Y/N. What brings you here?" You sighed.

"I'm leaving Erebor, Bard...but the problem is, I need to think about of where-" you suddenly felt dizzy, and Bard catched you. He called for a healer, that's what your hazy mind could catch.

You basically woke up, in a room. On a bed. Comfortable bed.

"Lie still, lady Y/N," the healer said. You frowned a little, when she placed her ear to your stomach.

"I can hear the heartbeat clearly. The baby is most likely around three months old," she said.

"What baby?" You asked, confused. You looked from the healer to Bard and Bard to healer. She took your hands in hers.

"You don't know, my lady? You are pregnant. I can clearly hear the heartbeat of your child," she softly smiled at you. You shook your head, and felt a few tears escaping your eyes.

"I'm...I'm with child," you whispered. You could not believe it. So perhaps, it wasn't just stress...

"Who is the father?" The healer asked, when she helped you to sit up. You nervously looked in your lap.

"Kili. Prince...Kili. Kili Durin." You said, and Bard and the healer shared a look.

"He...he doesn't know. Can we keep it a secret? Please?" You looked at them.

They said yes. Bard was like a father to you, and let you stay. He showed you chambers, that would be your home for next few months at least.

You never went back to Erebor. You thought Kili had to marry the princess, so you just tried to think of the baby you were carrying.

It wasn't that hard, honestly. The baby was often restless, though.

As if it missed Kili as much as you did...

Even if the baby would have to grow up without it's biological dad, you were sure you'd be able to take care of them well.

Some days, you were happy, and didn't think of Kili too much. It pained you, yes, and you knew you had to be strong for the baby, so you often asked someone to teach you something, such as how to prepare different meals, how to knit or how to play piano, to name a few.

Other days, you felt sad. It could be because of the weather, or hormones, some days you just woke up sad, and sometimes it was when something reminded you of Kili. Those days, the baby was the most restless, and the maids told you it was because the baby missed it's father.

You sat down to the armchair next to the window in your bedroom, and looked out on the street. Nobody could see you from here, so it made you feel safe. You looked up and seen Erebor.

"There's your daddy, over there," you whispered to the baby.

The answer you got, was soft kick.

-

"Does it hurt?" Sigrid asked you, looking at your belly. You smiled at her.

"No, it doesn't." You stroke your stomach. You've been pregnant for past almost nine months. Bard was so kind and let you stay, and even offered you bigger chambers, which you gladly agreeded to. The chambers were perfect size, and the baby could have their own small room, overtime.

You let out shaky breath. You wanted Kili to know about all of this. To be there with you, talk to you and to the baby.

But, it was not possible. It would hurt his reputation, and perhaps even his marriage.

You dried your tears, and carefully stood up. Even as pregnant, you were able to stand up yourself, luckily quite easily. You felt very thankful for some of your genes being from the elves, because, as Bard explained to you, humans had it harder.

When you slowly got yourself out of the castle, you breathed in. The air smelled nicely - you smelled fresh bread, old leaves, fresh air from the lake. Mix of summer and autumn. You felt it was one of the last few warm days, before the typical autumn comes.

You looked around, and your cravings were begging you for some freshly baked, soft warm bread with fresh butter, melting on top of it. You thought of the crispiness of the bread's crust, and your mouth started watering. You groaned, when you felt how your stomach let you know some snack would come handy.

You slid your hand to your pocket, and made sure you have enough money.

You started walking, to find some bakery, and as you looked around, you noticed one on the other end of the street.

You let out a breath, and started walking towards the small store.

You were almost there, when you overheard a gasps, escaping a few young girls. You slowed down and listened to their conversation.

"Did you see him?"

"Yes, I did. Do you think it really is the Prince?"

"Of course he is! I mean, look at him. I'd recognize the hair clip everywhere." You frowned a little, when you suddenly realized it. You stopped walking, and felt hot wave running down your back, and liquid running down your leg.

You carefully looked down. It was clear.

You turned around, and - damn it! - your eyes locked with Kili's in the exact moment.

He started walking towards you. You clearly recognized happiness in his eyes, and relief.

"Y/N, where have you been those past months? I was worried about you," He said, and when he was near you, you recognized even the wet shine in his chocolate eyes. You felt sudden rush of guilt.

He must have notice the guilt on your face. Kili frowned a little, when he took a notice of your belly, under the dress.

"I-you..." You noticed it. He was holding back tears. You shook your head, as you tried to hold your own.

"Kili, it isn't like this...please trust me!" You felt another wave of heat running down your back, and stepped forward, but sudden dizzines made you take wrong step. Kili quickly catched you.

"Kili, I-this is, uh..."

"You moved on," he said. You shook your head.

"No, it's...you are the father," you said, but didn't notice what was his reaction, because suddenly, you realized what was going on, as you were holding your belly.

"I need to get back, and find a healer and midwife," you let out through your gritted teeth.

"We will get there quickly," Kili let out, and you had a feeling.

"Don't you dare to faint!" You let out.

Kili helped you to get back. You noticed Sigrid, and told her to quickly find healer. She didn't ask anything, and quickly runned away. You let out a groan and gripped Kili's arm.

"Lady Y/N, we need to get you to the room prepared for labour," the healer said, and checked on your belly.

When you got there, and changed into simple gown, you laid down as the healer told you.

Kili stayed there, and you were gripping his arm and hand.

"I'm not fucking letting you to sleep with me ever again," you said through gritted teeth. Kili took a shaky breath, and you shot him a glare.

"Don't you dare to faint, Kili Durin! You did put this baby inside me nine months ago, so now-"

"This is just the pain speaking from Lady Y/N, Prince Kili. Don't take it personally," Kili gulped and nodded.

"You're doing great, love," he said carefully. You let out a huff.

"I didn't finish! Now you will deal with me breaking your arm, because it hurts!" You almost yelled at him.

"I can see the head, my Lady!" The healer smiled.

"With this next contraction, you will push as much as you can!" The healer said.

"Okay, one, two, three-push!"

"You're doing great, dear. The baby is almost there," Kili tried to cheer you up.

"You have no idea how painful it is!" You screamed.

"My lady, this is going to be your last push, are you ready?" The healer looked up at you, and you nodded.

"One, two, three, push!" The healer let out. You gripped Kili's hand, and suddenly...

You heard a baby scream.

"It's a girl!" The healer said happily. You smiled, and let out some happy tears.

"You-you did it!" Kili said, and you wiped off your eyes.

"No, we did it," you muttered, and he kissed your cheek.

"How do you feel, Y/N?"

"I'm okay," you smiled. The midwife checked on you, and handed you your baby.

"Everything seems to be in order," she said and smiled. You smiled at her back. She was there for you for all those months, and you got close.

"Thank you so much," She nodded.

"I'll leave you alone," she said, and left.

You stroke the baby's cheek.

"How are we going to name her?" Kili whispered, and stroke the baby's chubby cheek. You shrugged.

"Well...I'm not sure. I was thinking of Arina," you said.

"It's...it's beautiful name," Kili said, and you realized he was crying.

"Kili...I'm so sorry for...for hiding it from you," you whispered. Kili shook his head.

"Love...it isn't your fault. Can I...can I hug you?" You nodded, and he slid his arm around your shoulders.

"If anything, it's my fault." He muttered.

"I should've known where did you go, and-"

"Shh," you said.

"We can talk about that later. Arina's asleep now."

You were quietly watching the baby. The midwife came back soon, to check on you and the baby, and when she left, Kili spoken up.

"We talked Uncle the marriges out." You nodded.

"You left Erebor by then already. I was looking everywhere for you, only if I knew-" you subtly interrupted him.

"I didn't know either. I wanted to go to Rivendell, but...then, I found out. It would be risky, so Bard let me stay here," You shrugged.

"Do you still want to leave, though?" Kili looked at you with sad eyes, when he looked away from your daughter. You shook your head.

"No." Kili grinned, and gently brushed his hand over your cheek.

"Just for your information...mum was going nuts when she found out about the arranged marriges. She likes you a lot." You smiled, and took Kili's hand in yours.

"Well...let's hope she likes her too," You looked at Arina's sleeping face.

You came back the next day. Kili had to go to Erebor that evening, but in the morning, he came back.

When you entered, you overheard a strong female voice. You quickly realized who was the woman.

"I don't care my brother has a meeting. Go tell him he has to come here. It's a family emergency," she said, and turned to you and Kili.

"Y/N, where have you-oh, who is this?" Dis turned to you, and noticed the baby. You shared a look with Kili.

"This is your granddaughter," You said carefully. Dis looked between you and Kili, and it seemed like most things clicked to her. She smiled.

"Well..."

"Dis, what does that means?" Thorin's voice came from different hall, and you noticed Fili giving you a knowing smile.

"Thorin..." you said, and he turned to you. He seemed to be confused, but then he looked at Arina.

"What does this-"

"Uncle, let's get some privacy first," Fili said.

When you came to library, Thorin turned to you. Dis stood up, as if she would want to protect you.

"Uncle...Y/N and I started courting on the quest in secret. We planned to get married, but when you announced the arranged marriges for me and Fili, we-"

"I left Erebor, because I thought you would never accept me as partner for your nephew, Thorin. I found out I was pregnant, however, I didn't want to hurt Kili's reputation or his marrige, so I never came back to announce it. He met me in Dale yesterday, and I, um...I went to labour." Thorin has been looking at you and Kili. Your body was tense, and Fili, Kili and Dis were ready to protect you any moment.

Thorin slowly closed this eyes, and placed his face into his palms. When he looked up again, he let out a sigh.

"Fili, Kili, sister, leave us alone."

"But Uncle-" Fili said, but Thorin shook his head.

"I said, leave us alone. It won't be long." They three left, and you were a bit afraid.

"Kili is a prince, yes. But, he is also a dwarf, who needs to have someone who he is happy with." Thorin said, looking away from you.

"I noticed, of course. You make him happy, Y/N. I thought it was just childish love, that you would leave, and it would break Kili's heart. I owe you honest apology, Y/N. For thinking you wouldn't take his love seriously." He looked at you, and you let out a small smile. You nodded.

"Apology accepted, Thorin. Courting Kili makes me incredibly happy, and I am honored to say he is my lover," you said, and Thorin looked at you.

"Well, and when it comes to, um...you staying, you can stay here. If you would like to."

"I'd be very thankful."

A few years later

"Fi, look!" Kili said, as Arina walked towards Kili, again. She was giggling, as her father was dancing with her. You laughed.

"Kili, be careful!"

"Daddy, look!" The little girl pointed to a butterfly, who sat on her dress.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," Kili said, and she pouted.

"Don't move, or it will fly away!" Arina let out, and let the butterfly gently walk on her palm.

"Uncle, look, I got a butterfly!" Arina showed it to Fili, who nodded with nervous face.

"Oh, it's beautiful, Ari. Would you put it, um, a bit away from me, please?" She put the butterfly on a flower, and Fili let out a breath.

"I'm sleepy, mommy." She came to you, and lean her head on your shoulder.

"Ari?" A little boy came, and the girl jumped up with grin.

"Vili!" She squealed, and started tickling her cousin.

"Granny!" Arina gasped, when she noticed Dis.

"You are growing up so fast, Ari!" She said proudly, and you two shared a look.

"Aye, that's what she does," Kili let out a chuckle, and gently kissed your cheek.

#kili #kili x reader #fili #fili x reader #thorin #thorin x reader #the hobbit #gandalf #gandalf x reader #bilbo baggins #bilbo x reader #bilbo baggins x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #request #requested #kili x you #kili x y/n

[love-toxin]

cw: injuries, yandere tohma, gn! reader

"so...how long do I have to play along with this little game of yours?"

the question spills out of his mouth without warning, yet each word is methodical, careful, like he's practiced it a thousand times before. the teapot clutched in your hands nearly slips out and shatters over the table you've laid out for the two of you, but the warmth of the porcelain fortunately keeps you steady enough until you can set it down in the space between you two. Tohma was kind enough to bring you a gift after spending awhile away, tending to his duties--so it's only natural that you would take him out for some tea in exchange. it's courtesy. it's expected.

but his question certainly is not.

"I...I have no idea what you're talking about, Tohma."

"really?"

he's sat cross-legged for some time now, waiting as you ordered the tea and offering you some idle chit-chat befitting a pair that haven't seen the other in a while. Tohma has always been your friend even when you were young, but as is custom in a place like Inazuma, your relationship has evolved throughout the years. there are things you can't say anymore, things that would ruin your life if you were caught doing them...and now, you fear, the glint in Tohma's eyes may be an omen that he's about to commit one of those unholy acts.

"come on now, sweetheart, everybody can see the truth for what it is. there's no need to hide it any longer."

he's purposely tiptoeing around the question, waiting for the pieces to click in your mind. he need not say anything at all, however--the way he looks at you in this moment, and the purpose with which he stands from his place at the tea table is enough to set your jaw tight and your eyes to darken.

"you know that I was always meant to be your husband. to be there for you through thick and thin, to care for you when we're both old and gray-"

he takes a few quick steps around it to get to you, to kneel at your side and reach out his hands to pull yours into them, and it's all you can do not to flinch away and risk the image of impropriety. but you've endured this lecture before, and the only thing screaming inside your head is for you to resist--just resist, don't listen to a word he says, and bite your tongue of any insult until he finally gives up and gets the hint.

"Tohma, stop."

"-to treasure you like no one else will. I understand your point of view, I really do--we're still young, and the world outside of Inazuma seems so big and grand...but you have to realize that the time to settle down is coming for us."

he rubs his thumb over your hand and smiles in your direction, but you can't meet his eyes. and then it's slipping out of your grasp and raising up to your face, and you feel yourself stiffen all over as Tohma gently cups your cheek, his gaze lowering towards your mouth as if he has an idea of what he wants to do. but that would be grounds for you to shriek for a guard, and you're entirely certain that that's the only reason he bites his lip to stave off the desire.

"you were always meant to be mine. you believe in fate, and you've always put your trust in me...so why not let me help you?"

that last part comes as a whisper, the tearoom private but the walls still thin. one of the many secrets you've entrusted to Tohma over the years is your disagreement with Inazuma's strict laws, as well as the etiquette that comes with being a member of the higher class. you've always despised being noble, and Tohma has always understood you, at least you thought so....but ever since he's gotten this ludicrous idea in his head, you've known even less peace than usual.

"I've said it a dozen times, Tohma, and I won't say it again. I'm not marrying you."

you do your best to spit the words out with as much venom as you can muster, yet you still feel the twinge of anxiety at snapping at him so informally. it could spell the end for you quite easily, but when your eyes are drawn back to Tohma's expression, all you can see is bliss written all over his face.

"...even laced with contempt, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. you've so much wit, so much grace, and your beauty leaves me breathless...I know how little you think of me, but-"

fury shoots through every vein of your body, and you know it's the wrong move when you slap his hand away from your face, the smack like a thunderclap in the small space of the little tearoom.

"enough, Tohma! enough. do yourself a favour and stop speaking to me--in fact, I dearly hope you never say a word to me again."

each finger on his hand twitches, only to close in a tight fist and sink back down to his lap. you try to avoid his gaze in this moment, but even turning your head away you can still feel his eyes staring right into your soul.

"you know I can't make that promise. you know that I love you."

that word makes you stiffen, your grip lock on your noble dressings, your blood turn to ice in your veins. you've avoided that for so long but it follows you like a demon, and it's eyes glow a verdant green as Tohma's words melt into your skin and eat you alive from the inside out.

"this feeling of yours....it's not mutual, Tohma. just leave it, and leave me."

you say so, but you're the one that stands from the tea table in the end, and Tohma jumps to get to his feet to follow you. he trails on your heels as you step with purpose towards the door and slide it open, the cool chill of Inazuma city in the night prickling your exposed skin. the blond hurries to get in front of you, and the moment you spot a few other citizens on the path this late at night, you tilt your head down and pray to the gods that Tohma won't force you into impropriety.

"...I see. you won't budge on this, then...I will have to accept that. but may I at least escort you home? I can't in good faith allow you to wander alone in the dark. I still care for you."

he looks down on you with a softness to his features, and you hate how easily you buckle under any sort of pressure from him. you prided yourself on not giving in before, but when you're not alone it's not nearly as easy--you have to piece your words so carefully together, and by the time you think of an excuse it will already be too late for you to reject his offer. so with as subtle of a huff as you can manage, you speak softly under your breath that you suppose that's fine, and grit your teeth as you thank him for the offer. and Tohma is all too relieved to stand beside you as you walk down the hill and leave the prying ears of the city, the silence near unbearable between you as you meander through the path cut down the middle of the farmer's fields.

"seems there's no one around. not a surprise for this time of the night."

it's not a terribly long walk back to your family's estate, but Tohma still evidently feels the need to speak up as you reach the end of the gently sloping hill. Konda village lies within sight in the distance, and you feel the tension weigh heavy on your heart as you count the steps closer and closer to safety. relative safety that is.

you're so focused on paying him as little attention as possible that you don't even take notice to his hand drawing closer to yours and his eyes wandering up and down your figure, practically salivating as the flames in his chest burn hotter and hotter, until the moment he can't take any more and he grabs you by the shoulders to stop you and force you to look him straight in the eyes.

"now, you're going to listen very closely. I'm going to give you a little gift, because I love you so very much. you get a minute's head start."

the shock catches you off guard to the point that you bite your own tongue, fear and panic shooting through you like icicles that make you freeze in place. Tohma's expression is so intense he nearly appears feral, pearly teeth glimmering in the light from the moon as he grins down at you like a predator examining their prey.

"here's the deal, sweetheart--if you can run all the way past Konda village, you win. but if I catch you, I win, and you must uphold your promise and marry me in a month's time. and if you win, you'll get your wish--I'll never speak a word to you again."

terror grips you even harder than Tohma is, and at his proposal you whip your head towards the village in the distance and then back to him. if he's seriously not making some kind of sick joke, then there's absolutely no way you would ever make it. you're not a fighter, you don't even know how to hold a sword much less have a vision, and you've seen the kinds of things Tohma is capable of....he'll catch you before you make it anywhere close.

"Tohma-"

his gaze lingers on you for a moment, before he turns you in the direction of the village and pushes you forward, only hard enough for you to stumble a bit. you want to question him, to try and talk him down from such an insane idea, but once you hear him start counting down aloud your feet move on their own and you take off in a pitiful run down towards your target. the night air whips by your face as you try to sprint as best you can, yet your robes that give away your nobility get caught on your sandals and trip you up enough that it makes your heart jump into your throat. your heart pounds in a cage that feels too tight, the air heavy and raw in your lungs the longer you fumble your way forwards in the night. even your tears feel cold as they stream down your face, and if speaking wouldn't expend your precious energy then you would surely be wailing for Tohma to stop, please, he's scaring you. especially once you hear his footsteps take off, and it feels as though his warm breath is right on the back of your neck.

but even so, you look up within moments to find yourself in the middle of the quiet little village, the lanterns dim and only the glow of the moon casting light on the humble little buildings. the panic ceases but resurges just as quickly when you remember that you're not safe yet, that the entrance to the village is still a few hundred metres away--and you can hear Tohma panting now, at a distance close enough that he'll make a grab for you long before you'll ever get there. but there's something you know that he probably doesn't remember, and it might just be your saving grace as you duck into the shadows and skirt around the mayor's house just as he skids into the path of the village. you fear in the pit of your stomach that getting the top off the well that you used to play near as children would make a great deal of noise, but you hurry forward and find it open--and just as you swing a leg over to climb inside and pray that Tohma doesn't think to look for you here, your foot slips on the stone that's still damp from the rain and your world is overturned as you fall through the air. it's not far enough that you can scream or grab for purchase on something, but when you land you hear the sickening crack of something breaking and pain that shoots through your leg so quick that it almost makes you black out.

but something worse is yet to come, and it's Tohma's voice calling out your name, before you look up to the sky and your heart just sinks as you watch his face pop into view over the side of the well.

"oh, archons--baby, are you all right?! did you hurt yourself?"

he hops over the edge quite easily and falls steady on his feat, not even having broken a sweat from chasing you as he hurries to your side and props you up in the crook of his arm. and despite still feeling that twinge of discomfort and panic from him touching you, the agony sets in so deeply that you cling to him without realizing as tears pour down your face and you struggle to breathe.

"let me see...yeah, that's definitely broken. c'mere, I'll help you up.."

just brushing the pads of his fingers over the rapidly-swelling skin of your calf makes you flinch and cry out with pain, and it's obvious by the deep bruising how bad you've hurt it--you wouldn't be able to climb out of here if you tried. but Tohma finds so little trouble in heaving you up into his arms that it's laughable....it would be funny how sincerely you thought you could get away in the first place, if you weren't experiencing the consequences now. and only now is it starting to sink in that you lost, even though he isn't rubbing it in your face. yet.

"poor thing--that was scary, wasn't it? aren't you glad I was here?"

despite how despairing you look, he rubs his cheek against yours as he holds you tight. you realize now how much he's always wanted to do this, and how he's dragging this all out while he has the chance to do it without anyone watching....it's such a rare opportunity, but you don't feel nearly as lucky as he does.

"I'll always be here, sweetie....in sickness and in health, right?"

he murmurs into the shell of your ear, before pressing a kiss to it right afterwards as he reaches out to get a foothold so he can lift you out of here. all you can think about now is how your chance of escaping him has slipped away....and now, your status is a death sentence in the hands of the man who saved your life, and will ask for nothing in return but your gentle hand in marriage. how romantic.

#tohma #tohma x reader #tohma genshin impact #thoma x reader #thoma genshin #genshin impact #yandere tohma #yandere thoma #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader

[raggaraddy]

The Basement: part one

Anon request: Hi can I request an assassin!yoongi one shot where yoongi gets jealous over reader somehow even though I know he isolates her so she depends on him but maybe she somehow stumbles into a colleague of his in his living room or a friend and the friend is 👀 looking not so respectfully

A/N: Enjoy lovely. 💜💜💜 Part two

Summary: For the first time ever there is someone else in the house with you and Yoongi. How could Yoongi expect you to resist speaking with him.

Trigger warnings: Violence, intimidation, kidnapping, imprisonment, yandere themes.

Yoongi

Yandere! Yoongi

Assassin! Yoongi

It may only be a few hundred square meters, but this house is your entire world. You know every creak, every floorboard that squeaked, how each door closes, everything. So in the middle of the night when you are woken by an almighty thump, at once you could recognize how out of place it was.

Cautiously sneaking downstairs and peering around every bend, you are just in time to see Yoongi slamming the basement door shut behind him.

Putting your ear to the entrance, you could hear the sounds of banging, of the chains, of low spoken voices. Over and over in your head, you told yourself to ignore it. To go back to bed and let it be. But the signs that there was another person down there with Yoongi were clear, and the temptation of that was too much to bear.

Your lesser instinct winning out, you open the door, instantly coming face to face with an ascending Yoongi. And behind him, in the place where you had been chained up many times before was a hooded man. Seated on the floor in a slumped position. His hands fixed against the wall keeping them high.

"Out," Yoongi demands, shoving your shoulder lightly to push you back through the doorway.

"Who-" is all you can gape, disbelief printed on your face.

"Not your concern." He refuses, closing the door. Continuing to push you back into the kitchen. "You do not go down there. Am I clear?" A finality to his expression not allowing any room for discussion or expansion.

Nodding, with a small pout you look at the basement one last time before faking a smile and returning to bed.

You were awestricken. Not once in nearly 8 months have you seen or heard another person in this house. Also not during the 6 months stretch before that. No one had visited. Not a single person had come past the house or had even driven up the driveway by accident. Your curiosity was burning you from the inside out. Your longing to see, to speak to another human aching your very soul.

Yoongi had gone into town, leaving you alone with the unlocked basement door. You'd always been chained up if he kept you down there, so it had never needed to be locked before. And the very idea of taking a quick peek was so tantalizing. However, on the more sensible side of this debate, you knew that Yoongi's word was final and you had never disobeyed him before.

You would like to say you were smart enough for this to at least be a difficult decision. But you swiftly threw common sense to the wind and went downstairs the second you heard the car pull out of the garage. Your body buzzing as you approached the new man.

With a heavy breath and timorous movements, you pull the hood back from the man's head. Black, straight, short hair. Dark, full brows, a perfect heart-shaped face, and ears that stuck out just a little too far. From head to toe, he's largely built. Taller and wider than Yoongi, making you astounded to think about how dangerous he really was.

For a few seconds, the both of you look equally surprised to see the other. Your pulse coursing through your ears, mouth slightly agape, looking at another human for the first time in forever.

"Hi," you squeak, nothing else coming to mind.

"Who are you?" He snarls.

It's spoken with so much hostility, but that question is one that brings you so much relief. You break down, pouring out your entire story in a rampant monologue. Telling him in detail everything you could about you, Yoongi, this place and your abductions. Fully spilling all that you had been so desperate to tell.

He, however, gives you nothing in return. For nearly 10 minutes you ask him question after question and he declines them all. Not even his name slips loose. He explains once that he can't know if your working with Yoongi, or that lunatic as he called him, and he is not going to tell you a single thing. Every question afterwards is only met with a solemn stare or a shake of refusal.

"If you won't tell me anything," you mope a little, "well, you look like a James Bond character, so I'm going to call you Mr Spy. The Spy? 007. Spy-man? I'll work on it." You mutter completely senseless and giddy from this rare moment. Continuing to overshare and divulge.

"Okay, Y/N. With everything you've told me, we're on the same page. So, if you help me get out of these," he rattles his hands, "Then I can get you out of this place."

The thought is alluring. But also more than you signed up for when you came down here. Firstly, Yoongi always keeps the keys for these chains on him. But secondly and most importantly, if you attempted to escape, if you tried to leave again Yoongi would never forgive you. You can't get away from him. You know you can't. And if you tried he would lock you up and throw away the key. You couldn't- You can't.

"I'm sorry, but no. I can't." You sadly brush his offer aside. Feeling awful denying him help like that. "I have to go back up before Yoongi comes home," you mumble.

Leaning over him you bring the hood up. You need to return him to how he was. He doesn't fight or argue, seeming to somberly accept his fate, but his eyes do dart to the top of the stairs at the last second.

Reacting to his troubled expression, you spin around seeing Yoongi already home, standing at the entrance.

At once your body tightens becoming flushed with sweat. Scrambling back from the man you stand in the middle of the room, trying to keep your breathing slow and deep to hide your fright.

"I thought," He starts to lower down the stairs, punctuating each point in his sentence with an additional step. "I said. You could not. Come in here."

"I'm sorry," you hush as Yoongi snatches the hood from your hand. Your head lowering in surrender.

"You want to save her?" He turns his attention and building anger towards his new prisoner. His fists are tight, knuckles cracking as he clenches and twists them. "You want to get her out of this place?" The challenge, the hash way he spits the words spoken about you is making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Goosebumps flittering down your skin.

Lurching forward Yoongi's knee bashes into The Spy's head. And again. His foot following down booting him in the chest. And again.

"You think she wants to go with you?!" He growls, beating his fist into his head, over and over. The skin breaking, blood erupting all across his face. The Spy's restrained position not allowing him to protect himself in any way, only able to groan and splutter through the abuse. "You're too weak to even get yourself free. You think you can take her!" Yoongi steps back and lifts his leg, stomping the heel of his boot into the curled up fist of The Spy. Making him explode in a pained howl as you hear the bones crunch.

Not wanting to show any reaction, you stay coiled and fixed. Praying for this to end quickly. You had seen this level of violence and sadism from Yoongi before in the outside world. He doesn't acknowledge or accept any interference and he will only finish on his own terms.

You can't help but think if this is this how cruel and viciously he treats everyone else?

Stomping down again, this time he lines up The Spy's ankle. Throwing all his weight, all his force into the joint. The man's screams turning into cries as he wails in agony.

"No. You're not taking her anywhere." Yoongi straightens up, blowing out a heavy breath. Running his fingers back through his black hair over and over pulling it out of his face. "You're gonna tell me everything I wanna know. And then I'll finally let you die." He swallows hard, rearranging his clothes and loosening his muscles. His fiery explosion now quenched.

You can't lift your eyes as he drags you to the top floor. The basement door sealing, muffling the tears of the man below.

"Yoongi. I told him- I told him I couldn't-" You're starting and stopping, trying to sufficiently explain or plead your case. He's never shown anything near that level of violence towards you, but you were still sure he was about to lock you away endlessly for disobeying him.

He steps into you, silencing and making you jump back, smacking into the wall. Trapped between it and your hovering captor.

"I heard you." He speaks deeply and softly. In complete opposition to how he was moments ago. "Well done." His coarse pronunciation is abandoned as he speaks these words very clearly. Making sure you hear his sincerity.

His hand runs softly over your hair, stroking and cupping your head. Making you fight not to melt. Making you look up at him with big eyes. Any sort of affection from Yoongi instantly impacting you greatly, making you emotional and needy for more. Your bottom lip quivering, you whimper lowly as you lose the internal struggle and lean into his hand. Your eyes scrunching tight, hating yourself for how much his gentle touch affects your heart.

"Come with me," he holds your hand having you trail him upstairs. Taking you into his bedroom where he extends the affection and intimacy. Being with you so tenderly and kindly as your mind and heart tears back and forth between the softness you can feel now, and the horrors you saw him do before.

Despite the risks, your head fills with how and when you could see The Spy again. He was hurt, and he needed your help. And you were too eager to see him again. But when you wake the next day, you find a hefty padlock keeping the basement door sealed.

Yoongi at once reading your reaction. "You should thank me for locking that door Y/N. You don't know how dangerous some people can be."

Part two

#bts #yandere bts #yandere #bts fanfic #bangtan #yandere bangtan #bts smut #bts reactions #yandere yoongi #min yoongi #yandere suga #Yoongi #bts smut reactions #bts fan fiction #bts fanfction #bts requests #yoongi smut #bangtan reactions

[syubub]

What makes BTS most vulnerable

Woo! A reading! I wanted to do this bc its been on my list for a little while now!

I just got off work and wanted to do this asap! Pls forgive mistakes! I'm not gonna proof read bc im lazy.

Cheeky disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation of the cards!!

So so so so

First off, I did each member and also one for the group! I didn't have a specific plan in mind when I started, so I just went with the flow!

Let's start with the group first

So. The 5 of pentacles is what makes them most vulnerable. This card talks about isolation, feeling lost, anxiety, not having money or influence. Most of all, a mindset of lack.

All of this to me makes me think that what makes them most vulnerable is the fear of being right back where they started. Feeling exiled from the industry, not having the funds to be sure of a stable future and also not having a strong sense of identity as a group and within the group. It's like their vulnerability comes from something almost like ptsd? Let me try to make that make more sense. I genuinely think that where they started and the uncertainty and constant ridicule really had an impact on them. The vulnerability they have as a group is essentially emotional distress? Like, I wish I had better words to explain. It's the fear that they haven't actually grown or gotten anywhere and that they are insignificant that is their vulnerability. Fear based on where they started?

I really hope that made sense. Moving on though, 7 of swords is how it manifests for them. This card is sneaky. It talks about getting away with something and betrayal but I think this meaning is the most relevant: strategic moves. So how their vulnerability manifests is that the fear that they have causes them (and the company) to make very specific moves to keep their fears from happening. It's like, they take steps to make sure their fears don't get realized. Career wise but also personally. They can sometimes force growth because they fear stagnation. Kinda like rolling something uphill? Once it loses momentum it starts rolling back down.

The other two cards, Wellness and busy times and multitasking, are what they can do to lessen that vulnerability. Keeping healthy in mind body and spirit (also keeping the group bond healthy too) as well as channeling their emotions and fears into productivity. (Think the ly:tear album)

Seokjin

This is really intresting. So, what makes him most vulnerable is repressed emotion that causes inner turmoil. The moon is all about your insides and the vastness it has. In its reverse it talks about the darker parts of your subconscious. So, him bottling shit up and repressing it becomes a monster that affects him without him even necessarily knowing.

As for how that manifest in his life, it literally affects his judgment. Like, literally. It messes with his decision making.

As a fellow human with a similar problem, I can almost bet that any issue he has with another member will be shoved away and it will fester until he's at his breaking point and he'll absolutely weaponize it but disguise it as "just poking fun" or he might also purposefully create low level chaos. It's really intresting because this could manifest in so many ways. It could be his insecurities, issues with other people, fears ect and they fester in his brain space fucking with his judgment.

What he can do to lessen this vulnerability is deep emotional healing. Istg these cards are too perfect to make up. He needs to do THE WORK and heal it. He probably recognizes this and is working on it. Its not fair to himself to put himself aside in order to put other people first. (I think this probably happened a lot in the early bts days bc he had to be an older brother and a responsible figure to 6 other kids so he prioritized group harmony over his own issues and emotions)

Yoongi

????

Um, okay. So what makes yoongi most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. That's the 10 of pentacles rev. But it gets interesting bc the 10 of swords isn't what makes him vulnerable but it also isn't how it manifests?? So here's my theory time. What makes him most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. I can only assume that it's the isolation and internal conflict of benefiting off of a system that fucked you over in the first half of your life and also feeling bad for having wealth that most people can never imagine? I really don't know? But with the 10 of swords talking about betrayal and deep wounds, it could be that he's extremely afraid of being taken advantage of? Like, that's another downside of wealth. Maybe people have tried to use him for money or influence? Especially in his personal life. Like, he probably finds it extremely hard to get close to people because he's afraid of betrayal over something that is already hard for him to deal with?

Also loss. He wasn't born rich. He worked his ass off to get what he has and he's probably afraid to lose it. He might "stash" money?

Anyway, knight of swords, how it manifests. This card is about a drive to succeed. So essentially this makes him run and push himself hard and harder and harder to out run what he sees as an inevitable end? Sometimes this can blind him.

As for what he can do to lessen this vulnerability, we have, self confidence through God confidence. This card to me talks about having faith in your actions and skills and trusting in yourself even if you doubt your ability. Essentially, yoongi just needs to trust in himself to land on his feet no matter what happens. Life is always uncertain so he needs to trust that he can weather any storm he might face.

Hoseok

This was one gave me some thoughts. So, similar to jin, it's the bottling shit up and having you subconscious mind eventually figure shit out because it's been neglected but with the 2 of swords in reverse, talking about confusion and being indecisive, I think this kinda causes him to shut down? He might get apathetic. It's almost like when you work a computer so hard that it crashes.

And how this manifests for him with the 3 of pentacles in reverse is that he gets thrown out of alignment with the group. Kinda like how you shouldn't drive on a flat tire. He withdraws and becomes hard to reach and puts up a wall that causes a lot of problems for him as well as those he is around. It's a defense mechanism. It can also manifest in him preferring to work alone as well instead of group settings.

This exposes him to depression and doubt.

Also similar to jin, for how to lessen this vulnerability we have Bless your heart with talks about reaching out (breaking down that wall) and healing your heart and healing the root issue.

Namjoon

Okay. This is the one that makes so much sense but also confuses me.

So. What makes him most vulnerable is the magician rev and 10 of cups. Unrealized potential and poor planning as well as love, harmony and alignment.

So.... what? How does love and the happiest happiness make him vulnerable?

Well, I think he's suspicious of it. I think that he can't help but wonder in his big big big brain if THIS is the right happy or if its really happiness at all? Almost like commitment issues but also not? It's like, he's afraid that it won't last? He might have trouble fully allowing himself happiness. Also, what makes him the most vulnerable is love. It opens up every bit of his soul and puts it on a laundry line for everyone to see and I don't think he thinks he's worthy enough to be seen like that?

As for how it manifests in his life, 9 of cups, personal fulfillment and a strive to have everything else in hislife sorted out? Essentially wanting to have a perfect foundation so eventually he can share with all the important people in his life.

As for what he can do. Value your self worth. pretty straight up. He needs to value himself more. He deserve love and he deserves to feel seen even if it's uncomfortable at first.

Jimin

Oki. What makes jimin most vulnerable is choice. The 7 of cups talks about focusing on what's best for you and making choices based not on illusion. I think jimin is plagued by unrealistic expectations and confronting the fact that it's not possible is what makes him most vulnerable. He makes choices that are driven by illusion. Usually about self. I think specifically about how he doesn't always see how good he already is so he pushes himself to chase after something that isn't always right for him or even there in the first place. Acknowledging and facing it brings vulnerability that he doesn't always want to face. I think he might equate vulnerability to powerlessness.

How it manifests. 9 of wands rev. Paranoia and being defensive. It's his own fear and insecurities manifesting outside of himself.

As for what he can do, passion and purpose and multifaceted. Focus on what is close to his heart and don't get side tracked. Theres so much more to this situation and there isn't an easy fix. There's a lot of things that need working on in order for him to feel comfortable.

Taehyung

Oki oki oki. What makes Tae most vulnerable is strength rev. Raw emotion. He doesn't always express his emotions and when he chooses to be more open, his emotions go through a bit of a filter. Showing his unfiltered emotions makes him most vulnerable because it's him as he is. In his truest form. It's all of his wants, joys, fears. Everything.

As for how it manifests, 10 of wands and Hanged man, it becomes a burden that he carries because he feels like he can't just be honest. He pauses and allows himself time to feel on his own but that means possibly being misunderstood and a bit isolated.

Now. What can he do to lessen it? Bless your heart and healthy communication in relationships. TALKING TO PEOPLE AND ALLOWING HIMSELF THAT VULNERABILITY. It's not bad to be vulnerable. Heal that shit bb bc you are worth it.

Jungkook

So, what makes him most vulnerable? The world in rev. Not having closure and seeking it. The process of seeking closure for himself about things that could have or putting to rest something that has come full circle. It brings vulnerability because he has to face things that he could have done better. He has to face things coming to a close and be okay with is.

How it manifests, the tower, ace of cups, 5 of cups reversed.

The tower is essentially everything crumbling down. I think jk thinks too much? If you follow a ball of yarn all the way to the end then you just unraveled a whole ass ball of yarn.

Him going to close those things cause him to unravel his foundation.

With the ace of cups, creativity and love/ new emotions, I think him taking the time to pursue personal closure helps him to be more open to love as well as giving him creative fuel.

The 5 of cups rev. Means that him doing this closure thing helps him to forgive himself bc he's taking time to move on and tie up loose ends?

For jk this closure thing manifests in every aspect of his like and I almost see it as him shedding? Sounds weird but he's consciously moving on and paying attention to what he needs?

As for what he can do? Deep emotional healing! He runs the risk of feeling more of the tower manifestation so he needs to keep himself emotionally healthy in order for this to be productive instead of destructive!

~~~~~~~

I hope y'all like this! I feel like the cards didn't always follow what I was kinda going for with my questions but it all works out in the end I guess?

My next reading will be up later this week (I've already done it and taken all of my notes. I just have to type it all out) so look foward to that as well!

#bts tarot #bts readings #bts reactions #bts imagines #seokjin #jin #suga #yoongi #min yoongi #Hoseok #jhope #bts jhope #namjoon #rm #bts rm #bts jimin #jimin #park jimin #taehyung #bts v #jungkook #jk #jeon jungguk #hoseok #bts

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | Four

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART THREE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's becoming more apparent how badly Wanda wants you that she's sure she's going crazy. Now with a fake date on hand, Wanda's not sure which is worse: the fact she's too in love with you to pretend to be interested in someone else, or that her big mouth has potentially put her in a deep(er) hole.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: the pre-shenanigans to the shenangians. Hope y'all enjoy heh.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.8k

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Wanda lies in bed, unable to sleep, staring into the dark. She can barely make out the ceiling and idly thinks about buying blackout curtains.

As the party gets closer, the more Wanda starts to feel more anxious. She's experiencing a rollercoaster of emotions in the last few days, oscillating between excitement at the prospect of making you jealous and then feeling anxious at the thought you might not. 

The entire thing is starting to feel like a bad idea, but Wanda doesn't know what to do. If she calls it off, you'll ask why, and Wanda's still too scared to admit her feelings to you. Or what if you end up thinking that Wanda wasn't actually capable of dating girls?

These repetitive lines of thought would make Wanda feel nauseated. She wishes you would simply wake up and realize your feelings for her. Wanda's never had to really chase anyone before, and chasing you is probably the hardest thing she's doing, but if it works out, then it'll also be the best thing she's ever done. 

Wanda sits up, her knees pulled to her chest, as she hears shuffling around her door before a knock. 

"Come in," Wanda clears her throat, pulling the blanket slightly higher up. Her heart is racing, some of it from an irrational fear of it being a murderer, and some of it knowing it was you on the other side. 

When the door opens, you step in before closing the door behind you. You're in your PJs, another oversized shirt, and Wanda can't tell if you're wearing pants or not.

"Hey," Wanda smiles but realizes you can't make out the details of her face in the dark so far away. "What's wrong? It's so late, why aren't you sleeping?"

You don't answer her initially, letting the silence nip at Wanda's growing unease. Before she can say anything else, you finally speak.

"Don't do it."

"Huh?" Wanda's confused, shifting in the bed to sit closer to the end, closer to you. "What are you—"

"Don't do it," you repeat. "Don't go on a date with Darcy."

Wanda's heart leaps in her chest, and she needs to blink multiple times because there's no way you're saying that, right? There's no way you're telling her not to do this because would that mean—

"I think I'm going crazy," you mutter as you push yourself off the door and make your way toward her. 

"What do you mean?" Wanda asks nervously but excited as you climb onto the bed until you're face to face with her. 

As you get closer, Wanda can make out your silhouette and the expression of desire on your face. She can feel your breath on her face lightly, and it's minty and warm. 

"I can't stop thinking about you," you admit, and your tone is nervous but desperate. "The more I think about you going on a date with a girl, the more I hate it."

"You do?" Wanda bites her bottom lip. She wants to feel hopeful, but your words are leaving too much open for interpretation. 

You place your hand on Wanda's cheek, something you've done so many times before, but it feels different now. Every touch you give her feels electric and wired like you're grazing every nerve along her skin. 

Wanda's heart is thudding painfully inside her chest. It pounds like it wants to jump out of her chest and into your hands, making a home in your warmth and softness. 

Your thumb presses against her lips, getting Wanda to release her bottom lip from her teeth. "Yeah," you breathe like your heart is pounding too. "I hate it...because if you're going to date a girl, it should be me."

When your lips descend upon Wanda's, she thinks she might actually die. Your lips are soft and warm, inviting Wanda to kiss you deeper. When Wanda pushes against you eagerly, you open your mouth slightly, your tongue swiping at her bottom lip softly.

Arousal shoots through Wanda, hot and needy. She can't help the small moan that leaves her mouth, and her head is completely dizzy with want. 

You take the noise as an open invitation, using your weight to push Wanda back onto the bed, straddling her lap, and keeping yourself up on your elbow. 

The kiss feels never-ending, with it only ever stopping for a second for air before coming back for more. You kiss her until her lips are swollen and Wanda's throbbing for more. 

When your lips start kissing the edge of her jaw and down her throat, Wanda doesn't feel like she's going to make it. Just this, and it feels like too much and too little at the same time. 

"I don't think I can give you to anyone," you mumble against the skin of her collarbone. "How could I let anyone touch you like this?"

Your fingers are fiddling with the edge of her shirt before they trail along the bare skin of her stomach.

"More, more, more," Wanda's muttering with her eyes closed. She can't open them—it'd be too much. Her toes are curled in anticipation. 

Your hands brush the underside of her breast, and Wanda's breath hitches. You kiss places that Wanda hasn't been kissed in a long time. Your fingers trail and touch places only Wanda's hand has been in lately. It feels completely different under your touch, working Wanda up into a spot just between the edge and falling. 

Wanda's been moaning and muttering pleas for you to give her more, but you seem steadfast and taking things at your pace. Even Wanda can't rush you into enjoying and exploring her body. 

"I think I've always been yours," your lips brush against Wanda's. "And you've always been my best friend. But now, you're just mine—mine in every way."

Wanda agrees. She agrees wholeheartedly and enthusiastically. She'll agree to anything you say if you just give her what she wants. It's finally rewarding her to be agreeable with you, and just as she's about to get what she wants, your mouth opens, and music comes out. 

Wanda wakes up. 

The faint light in her room is disorienting, and her head is still heady with desire. The music is still playing, and Wanda turns over to grab her phone, unplugging it from her charger. 

7:06AM.

Turning off her alarm, Wanda tosses her phone to the side of her bed, falling back into her pillow. She stares at the ceiling, now able to make out every single detail on it with daylight.

Wanda's body is aching, and the region between her legs is still throbbing. Arousal was still trickling through her, and Wanda knew there wouldn't be enough time this morning to take care of it. 

Wanda grabs the pillow beside her, smushing it to her face as she lets out a muffled scream and a long line of obscenities before she gets up. 

The day would surely be long with arousal edging her.

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It's been somewhat awkward to meet your eyes the last few days since that sex dream. Once the hazy lust cleared from her mind, Wanda could actually realize how mortifying it was to want you so badly that it was affecting her sleep. 

Wanda tries to play it off as just being distracted, but she can tell you're starting to think something's wrong. Still, it was too difficult to look you directly in the eyes. Every time she did, she could clearly remember her erotic dream. 

The way your eyes looked at her with such intensity, which was only heightened by the dark. She could still feel how warm your body was and how minty your kiss was. Goosebumps would form on her arm when she thought about how your lips were both liquid fire and icy cold against her skin. 

The entire thing would get Wanda so riled up that sometimes she needed to leave your vicinity and go on a walk to cool herself down. 

It was the day of the party, and the dream was finally tapering off enough that Wanda could look you in the eyes again. You seemed perplexed but relieved by the change, and you didn't push the issue since Wanda hadn't seemed upset with you. 

The morning of Tony and Pepper's party, you and Wanda are running around the apartment trying to get everything in order for different things. 

"Did you grab the present?" 

"Um," you scrunch your nose. "Yes, it's here."

"Awesome, can you bring it with you? I'll lose it if I bring it with me," Wanda says while carefully putting on mascara in front of her standing mirror. 

"What do you mean? I thought you were coming with me to pick Raye up?" You ask while looking for the ring you always wear on your middle finger. 

"Um, no," Wanda's half-distracted, but it's good timing as she finishes her mascara. "I'm meeting Darcy for coffee before the party."

You're looking for your ring in Wanda's room because you vaguely recall leaving it there yesterday night when you were drinking tea with Wanda and chatting in her room. You pause your search and look at Wanda with a confused face.

"You haven't met her yet?"

"I will be in," Wanda pauses and pulls out her phone, "a couple minutes. She just texted that she's pulling up."

"What if you don't get along with her? I thought she was coming to the party," you ask, seemingly concerned about everything.

"Then I'll find out since I have an hour with her before the party. If I don't like her, then I'll Uber to the party alone," Wanda shrugs. Besides, it didn't matter if Wanda liked Darcy or not. As long as Darcy wasn't a raging asshole with boundary issues, then it would be fine. They were both aware this date was a farce. 

"Are you sure you don't want me to tag along? What if she's, like, a serial killer or something?" You frown, and Wanda can't help but laugh.

"I don't think Nat would be working with a serial killer," Wanda shakes her head at your nonsense. "We're going to be at the Starbucks near Tony's house. I have my location on, so you can check it to make sure we're not deviating on the road."

You're about to say something else when the buzzer at your door rings. 

"Can you let her in through the front doors? I should be ready by the time she's at our door," Wanda asks as she turns back to the mirror, applying the last touches to her match-up.

"Sure," you say, somewhat huffy, but leave. 

It takes a few minutes, but Wanda eventually hears knocking and the door opening. The words exchanged between you and Darcy are muffled, but Wanda finishes, giving herself one last look in the mirror and running her fingers through her hair. As she's leaving, she finds the ring you were looking for on her desk and takes it with her. 

As she enters the living room, Wanda sees Darcy immediately and assesses right away that the other woman is drop-dead gorgeous. She has dark curled hair with warm undertones in the light. Her makeup was simple, with an accentuated dark red lipstick. 

"Wow," Darcy smiles as she catches eyes with Wanda, and you turn to look at her. "Natasha didn't do you justice with the photo she sent."

"You got a photo?" Wanda smiles back, able to tell that the compliment was sincere. "I didn't get anything. That seems unfair."

"Well," Darcy drags out. "Sent is a generous word. Natasha brought in a photo album. I'm sorry to say I have seen your high school and university pictures."

Wanda groans as she stands beside you, passing your ring into your palm. The entire action is wordless, which Darcy takes note of. 

"You shall speak nothing of these photos," Wanda warns the other girl playfully. "And just for that, you're buying coffee."

Darcy lets out a laugh, adjusting her glasses. "Alright, Natasha did warn me you were sassy. Let's go get our luxury coffee that will be my treat."

Wanda turns to you, and you're smiling, but it seems tight. "I'll see you at the party?" 

"Of course," you tell her before scrutinizing Darcy. "I'll see you in an hour on the dot."

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"So," Darcy says as they're both holding their coffees. "That's the girl you're in love with?"

"Yes," Wanda sighs, finding it somehow easier to admit to a stranger that she's in love with you. Like, really insanely in love with you.

"You're playing it pretty cool. I gotta give you props for that," Darcy nods, sipping her drink. 

"Do you think so?" Wanda asks, and then her eyes brighten. "Do you think she looked jealous at all? I thought she might've looked a little off or being overprotective, but then again, that could also be her just being my best friend. But she's never really acted this way before. Well, she does make sure she always knows my location for dates. But I don't know, it felt like she was being—"

"Oh my god," Darcy cuts Wanda off, blinking at the word vomit. "You're actually insanely in love with her. Emphasis on the insane."

Wanda huffs. "I know," she sighs. "I'm going crazy and I just want to know if she could feel the same way about me...without asking, obviously."

"Obviously," Darcy repeats with a smirk. "Alright, let's go over a game plan for today then. We want to show off just enough that maybe it'll make your best friend jealous but also not too much that it'll be weird if we don't have a second date. No offense and all, you're hot, but I only signed up for one date."

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You and Raye are already at the party when Wanda and Darcy arrive. 

"Ugh, great," Wanda grunts. "Little Miss Southern Belle is here."

"You mean Raye?" Darcy stares in the same direction and sees her coworker. "She's really nice and funny."

"Hey, you're my date," Wanda narrows her eyes. "And she's my enemy."

Darcy just raises her brow in response but says nothing. 

"Wanda!" You call and wave the two of them over. 

"Alright, we got this," Darcy looks over at Wanda, and they nod subtly at each other. 

As they make their way over, Wanda can tell you're assessing them, but Wanda merely gives another nod that she's okay, which you seem conflicted about. 

"Hey, Darcy," Raye greets her with a smile and a hug. "Fancy seein' you around here. You sure you're not using another pretty girl to sneak into a party?"

Wanda knows the comment is a compliment to her. Darcy is right that Raye is genuinely nice, and Wanda knows that Raye's eager to get along with Wanda since she's your best friend. Wanda knows all of this, but the comment still makes her bristle. 

"I actually know Tony and Pepper, too," Darcy says casually after they pull apart from their hug, her lips in a half-quirk. "I've done some work for them before."

"What exactly is it that you do?" You ask.

"Cyber security," Darcy answers. "Although that may sound exciting, it's not much day to day."

"Bug was telling me over here that you two went on a date!" Raye smiles even wider. 

Now she was even calling you Bug? She wasn't even there when your nickname came to be. She should create her own nickname, or better yet, just use your government name. 

"That we did," Darcy says when Wanda doesn't reply. "It was pretty decent," Darcy says with a half-quirk of her lips, indicating that it was more than decent, and Wanda remembers that she needs to smile too.

"I'm just surprised that you didn't go and scare her off with your personality," Raye smirks at Darcy before she looks back at Wanda. "Everyone knows Darcy at work to be blunt and sarcastic. She usually scares away all the cute interns."

"I thought she was hilarious," Wanda smiles somewhat tightly back. 

"Thank you!" Darcy cuts in dramatically, grabbing Wanda's hand. "I knew someone would inevitably see my charm. Are you thirsty? Let's go get a drink."

Darcy's about to drag you off when you suddenly grab Wanda's other hand, stopping them.

"Wait," your eyes are wide as if you're surprised yourself. "There's a videographer hired for the party. Everyone is supposed to go on camera to do a short video to say something to Tony and Pepper. I thought we should do ours together since we got their gift together."

Wanda turns back to Darcy, who looks confused and amused by the situation. 

"Alright," Darcy lets go of Wanda's hand. "I'll be waiting by the bar for you. C'mon, Raye, I'll buy you a drink."

"It's a free bar, Darcy."

"I know, I'm too generous."

With that, Wanda is alone with you as you drag her towards the videographer.

"Are you okay?" Wanda asks.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You say lightly.

"I don't know," Wanda flexes her fingers in your hand. "Feels like you don't like Darcy."

"I like her just as much as you like Raye."

Wanda grunts at that. She's told you multiple times that she's neutral about Raye. Wanda doesn't dislike her, but she has no reason to like her. It's all a lie, of course. Wanda fuckings hates Raye and wishes the other girl would evaporate. 

The second the camera points at their faces, the two of you smile brightly as you wish Tony and Pepper another 10 years of happy marriage so they can have this party again and continue to wish them a happy marriage in 10-year increments. 

As soon as it's finished, You and Wanda seem to be dragging your feet to get to the bar.

"So," Wanda drags out before taking a deep breath and looking at you. You stare back at her, and Wanda has to bite her tongue to say she just utterly loves you, and they should both ditch their dates. "What do you think?"

"Of what?" You mumble as you look away.

"Does it look weird? Me being with a girl?" 

Wanda can notice how you visibly clench your jaw, something you do when thinking about your next words carefully. 

"No," you say slowly, "but you don't look any happier."

"I don't?" Wanda hums. "Darcy and I have a lot in common. She's really funny too. Besides, it's not like I'm gunning to settle down with Darcy. It could just lead to having fun."

You're silent after that, and Wanda looks at your face. You seem contemplative, but she can't read your expression further than that, so she looks away.

"I'm probably going to be home late tonight," you say after a moment, and Wanda turns her head towards you again.

"Going to be with Raye?" Wanda asks, trying to make sure she sounds airy and light, but her stomach knots tight.

"Yes," you answer, and there's not a particular inflection in your tone, leaving Wanda with no clue about how you feel. 

"Sounds great," Wanda puts on a fake smile and picks up her pace to meet Darcy and Raye at the bar.

"Oh, you're back," Raye smiles at you, her pearly white teeth showing. Her cheeks are a dusty pink from the champagne she's been drinking as she drapes her arms over you, tilting her head to the side. "Wanna be naughty and steal a tray with bacon-wrapped scallops?"

Wanda has to resist the urge to loudly gag as you chuckle. 

"I got you a drink," Darcy catches Wanda's attention. "One of those fruity cocktails that will definitely lead us to make bad decisions if we have three more."

Wanda smiles sultrily as she opens her body language toward Darcy, pointing to the maraschino cherry in Darcy's drink. Darcy nods that she can have it, and Wanda seductively eats the cherry before she sticks the stem into her mouth, rolling it around with her tongue before the end of the stem pops back out of her mouth. Wanda grabs it with her fingers, the other end gripped by her teeth as she pulls and tightens the visible knot. 

"Wanna have four and see what happens?" Wanda smirks. 

From the corner of Wanda's eyes, she can see that you saw and heard everything. Your face is expressionless as you walk off with Raye, and Wanda wants to scream with frustration.

Was that a jealous expressionless look or an indifferent expressionless?

Once they are out of earshot, Darcy snorts. "Remember when I said you're playing it cool? I take it back. You're a hot mess. You look like you're always two seconds away from pulling out Raye's 250 individual extensions."

Their conversation is briefly interrupted by the videographer as he comes up to the bar. "Hey, man," he says to the bartender. "Do you mind if I leave my camera here for a second? I really need to run to the toilet and can't leave it on the table. These kids are surprisingly grabby with their sticky hands."

"Sure, dude," the bartender agrees, and the videographer runs off after he sets down the camera a foot away from Wanda.

Wanda stirs her drink with her straw aggressively, and some ice falls out of her glass.

"I don't see what's so great about Raye," Wanda huffs. "Sure, she's pretty, and I guess she's funny. But so what? She's clearly selfish. Who the hell steals a whole tray of bacon-wrapped scallops?! Those are the best appetizers!"

Wanda throws the straw aside and drinks her fruity cocktail in one go. 

"Man, you are so down bad," Darcy shakes her head. "At least you don't seem completely alone in it."

"Really?" Wanda brightens. "Why? Does she look jealous?"

"Well," Darcy sighs. "I don't know about jealous, but your friend definitely doesn't like me. Every time she smiles at me, it's a tight-lipped smile that seems to be a thinly veiled way of saying she doesn't think I'm good enough for you."

Wanda slumps. "That's nothing new. All the people I date get that look."

"Where's Natasha when I need her?" Wanda looks around but finds the redhead with Tony and Pepper. She seems to sense someone is looking at her, locks eyes with Wanda, and waves and winks.

"Listen," Darcy grabs Wanda's attention back. "Maybe you should just tell your friend your feelings. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She would know about my feelings and reject me," Wanda deadpans.

"Okay...so how exactly to plan to get with—how did you describe it at the café? The love of your life and the mother to your future children."

Wanda sighs. "I don't know. I know I should confess, but it's harder than you think. There are moments when she gets me so riled up that I wanna scream in her perfect face that I love her and probably always have, and then kiss her until we lose a couple brain cells from lack of oxygen. Then, I get so scared that she won't feel the same way and the moment dies like my will to live every time I see her with Raye."

"But you won't know until you actually say something," Darcy cocks her brow. "What if she does feel the same?"

"Then she wouldn't be with Raye!" Wanda snips but then takes a deep breath. "Sorry, it's just been hard lately. I feel like this whole fake dating scheme Nat cooked up is a bust. You're pretty cool and all, but I think I'm too in love to even pretend."

Darcy is about to say something else when the videographer returns.

"Thanks for watching it, man. Can you pour me some water with a lemon?" 

"Sure."

The videographer picks up the camera, and Wanda notices that it was placed on its side but had been facing them. Once he drinks his glass of water, he takes off.

The rest of the party isn't too exciting as Wanda doesn't see you often after that. You sit at the same table as her for dinner, but Raye is too busy chatting up a storm. Raye seems intent on keeping you busy until 10PM hits, and she decides she wants to leave the party.

"I'll see you later," you tell Wanda as you say goodbye to everyone.

"I guess," Wanda shrugs, and you tilt your head at it.

Wanda knows where all of this is leading for you, but for once, she's too tired to even try to stop it. Besides, Wanda is pretty sure you've already had sex with Raye, even if it was a quickie in the back of your car when you dropped her off or picked her up at the airport. 

The entire thing is too disparaging for Wanda to think about; she just wants to go home and be dead to the world. 

"I think I wanna head out too," Wanda looks at Darcy, who's been sipping on water for the last few hours. Neither of you specify exactly where in the moment despite how you seem to be waiting for them to say. 

The videographer approaches the group, and Wanda's confused as he greets you.

"Hey, I emailed you all the footage earlier after dinner," he says.

"Great," you smile at him. "Thanks for doing all the legwork. Sorry that Tony and Pepper want me to edit it together instead."

"You're editing the video together for Tony?" Wanda asks. "Why didn't you say?"

"Tony sprung it on me earlier today. Guess he forgot? Pepper bitched him out with love. I think," you grin. "But I don't mind. I have some free time before my next project," you shrug.

"Nah," he smiles. "I'm not complaining. I got paid twice my rate and I don't have to do the other legwork? Must be my lucky day."

"Sounds good, I'll let you know if I need anything."

"Oh, just a heads up, there was a lot of footage I didn't have time to go through, so I sent you everything. There might be some useless stuff you'll have to go through. I accidentally left my camera on a couple times. Just earlier, I realized I left my camera on every time I left it at the bar to go to the washroom," the guy laughs, but all the color drains from Wanda's face. 

"No problem," you tell him, and he leaves with a wave. "Raye and I are heading out now. Have a great night, guys."

Raye is already dragging you off, but Wanda doesn't have time to be annoyed. 

Oh, God, there was video evidence of Wanda confessing her feelings about you. 

"I need to get that video back!" Wanda cries, her hand flying to her forehead. 

She tries to not think about how you'll react or what you'll do if you see the video. She can't think about it; it will literally send Wanda into cardiac arrest. 

"Alright, alright, calm down!" Darcy placates her, realizing the same thing Wanda has. "He said he emailed it to her, right? It's not like she's going to go through the footage tonight. All you need to do is get into her email and go through the footage yourself and delete it before she comes home."

Wanda starts biting her thumbnail, a terrible habit she thought she had long outgrew. "I guess, but I'd have to access her laptop, and I don't know the password. She keeps work stuff on there."

"No problem," Darcy says as she pulls out a USB and gives it to Wanda. "Just plug this in and I can help you get into it."

Wanda takes the USB and stares at it dumbfounded. She stares back at Darcy. "You're insanely cool. Emphasis on the insane," Wanda parrots back to her with a smile. "We're gonna be great friends."

"Ah, I love becoming friends with my fake dates who are deeply in love with their best friend. They're so fulfilling and not weird at all."

"You're the one carrying around a hacking USB, don't talk to me about weird."

"Alright, sassy pants, let's just get you home, shall we? Although, not before we go to McDonald's. That dinner was just unnecessary fancy food that was half the size of my fist. I've been hungry for the last hour," Darcy starts to walk off with Wanda trailing her.

Wanda had also been hungry for the last hour, but now, knowing that you could potentially see the video of her professing her love—aggressively, might she add—Wanda wanted to throw up.

Please don't check your email on your phone, please don't check your email on your phone, Wanda begs in her mind. Now, she can't tell if she wants Raye to keep you busy or not. 

PART FIVE

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #avengers imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #modern avengers au #Elizabeth olsen x reader #mm: my fics

[indianamoonshine]

Strawberry | Chapter 12 | Flames

Summary: Will joins the family dinner. The night can hide many things.

Rating: (+18) for…situations.

A/N: I'm SO SORRY for the long hiatus. Please accept this peace offering (jealous!Din) as a token of my gratitude.

TAG LIST: @t3a-bag @lumimon47 @dodgerandevans @hallway5 @dancingwiththeplanets @steeevienicks @orneryscandallousandevil @ficthots @gaiusfrakkinbaltar @reginagina-blog1 @loveme-tenderly @lastphoenixrising @rattlemyb0nes @rebellou @alljusthumans @gaiuswrites @lovecatsnotpeople

The symposium of a midwestern dinner sounds a lot like Bach's work.

Difficult notes with high to reach places and then very low caverns just a moment later. The cicadas in the background are a nice touch; it's something Tchaikovsky might have wished he could capture. Silverware - old enough to be considered vintage now - clank against the porcelain dinner plates. Charlotte lets out her fae-like laughter and Rhea listens intently, eyes gazing dreamily upon Tommy as he carries on conversation. The house is full tonight.

You suppose it was out of the kindness of your father's heart to invite Will to this dinner. Everyone within a two mile radius usually came to these spur-of-the-moment things. Will was an old family friend and his father supplied yours with fresh goat's milk and chicken eggs, so it wasn't all that strange he came along. Still, it made the meal a bit more difficult to swallow. Quite literally.

Din is sitting directly across from you. You think it might have been intentional because Will chose to plop his happy ass right beside you, grinning that lopsided smile and charming his way out of the discomfort with a joke. You play the part by laughing when he tries to outwit everyone in the room or by asking him how the farm manages these days. Will isn't a cocky person by nature, but something about the rigidness of his composure when Din asks for the green beans makes you all too suspicious.

It doesn't make any sense. Will broke things off with you. If he were to be jealous, it wouldn't be for anything but pride and show. A year ago it would've bothered you that Will was cajoling the room for the sake of his vanity, but now it was just embarrassing for everyone involved.

"Din, do you remember the summer of '90?" your father asks across the table, clearly involved in another conversation that pertains to this anecdote.

The man across you hums and shakes his head with a reluctant grin. "I try not to," he fibs, cutting at his steak.

Your father chuckles. "I was nineteen and Din was..." he pauses. "Jeez, Din. How old were ya?"

"Seventeen."

"Ah, right! Rhea hadn't been born yet but Scarlett was pregnant with her by the end of the summer. That was our last free year, wasn't it? Well, mine anyway." You dad points his fork in Rhea's direction, a bit of steak dangling from its end. "And then you came along."

Rhea scoffs. "Well, geez. My bad for existing."

There's no darkness in either of their words so the exchange makes everyone at the table chuckle in good humor. Your father and Din go back and forth about the irresponsible and, well, illegal things that had been done that summer. Underage drinking. Trespassing. And somehow Din always got away with it.

"He never got us caught. Ever. I still don't know how you did it." Your father says to his friend, eyes wrinkling with a genuine smile. "Damn good thing too considering how much pot we smoked. It's a good thing my girls didn't get that rebellious streak."

A witty response is formed upon your lips but only until Will cuts you off.

"I don't know about that," he pipes in.

You're taken aback, quite literally tossing your head to gauge his interjection. "What?"

An indifferent silence hushes the dinner party. Your sisters chew their food carefully, eyes glued upon the scene before them like it was one of their soap operas. Your father awaits an explanation with a rather scandalized look upon his face, but Will's father - Clarence - doesn't seem at all fazed by any probability of illegal activity.

Will rolls his chin to serve you an exasperated look. "Oh, come on. We're adults now; we can come clean." He drenches his steak in more A1 sauce before revealing: "Your daughter was the one to egg the sheriff's house."

The entire room initially goes as silent as a graveyard before everyone chokes on a snort and begins to roar with laughter. Clarence slaps your father on the back as the two of them snicker like a pair of hyenas.

"Will!" you growl. "You said you'd take that to your deathbed!"

The pain in the ass beside you howls with laughter, holding his stomach, and having to pause from drinking his beer. "Daffi, it's fine. They can't do anything about it now."

"That's not the point!" you scowl.

Din is grinning from ear to ear, obviously amused by your humiliation. It was a childish thing to do but the sheriff was a dick in the worst way and you wanted him to know it. That was a hot summer - record breaking, actually - and by the time he'd woken, the egg had dried upon his lawn and across the face of his home. Ole' Sheriff Winslow scoured the town for weeks before finally abandoning his quest altogether.

"You got something to say, Mister Djarin?" you inquire playfully, scolding him with a fire in your eyes.

Din clears his throat and furrows his brows. "No, no. I wouldn't dare."

The two of you exchange a glance that was far too intimate for this dining room. His eyes softened upon meeting yours and his smirk was silly, drunk on something other than the beer in his hand. If it weren't for dear Will's additional reminiscence, you might've fallen under the spell lingering in the space between you.

"Yeah, that was a great summer. We had our first kiss that year, remember?"

You blink, all thoughts of Din's mouth upon yours fizzling away like steam. Instead, it is replaced with the frayed-edged memory of Will's rusted pick-up parked in the darkest corner of the local McDonalds. It was hardly a first kiss worth mentioning if it hadn't been for how good he was at it and how bad you were. Still: what the fuck?

You wanted to say just that but refrained from doing so. Instead you say, "Lots of awkward fumbling if I recall." It comes out sharp - petty. If he wanted to behave like a child, you could do it too.

Din's trying so desperately hard not to glare at Will. You can see it in the deliberate chug of his beer.

-

“What. The. Hell.”

“I know.”

“Wait,” Charlotte holds up a hand, expression dumbstruck. “I’m not done.”

You roll your eyes and scrub at a particularly stubborn dish, waiting for her dramatics to be over.

“…was that?” she finishes.

Rather anti-climactic.

“It’s Will,” you tell her, voice bored but teetering on the edge of fury. “It’s fucking Will. What do you expect?”

Charlotte shakes her head, eyes bulging with disbelief as she blinks over and over again as though trying to compute. She takes a dish from you, sopping wet, and begins to dry it with a rag. You know Charlotte is eager to gossip because she never - never - offers to help clean after supper.

Everyone else is carrying on from the awkward conversation by sitting at the bonfire and making pudgy-pies. It’s the kind of snack one eats when they need to forget about anything other than the impending weight gain. You watch from the window as Rhea slathers Nutella upon a piece of white bread and then some cut strawberries. Honestly, you could really go for one, but the idea of being anywhere near Will makes your skin crawl.

“Did he say anything to you? Before dinner? Or after? Like…why would he say something like that?” Charlotte carefully stacks the delicate plates atop each other. They clank against one another noisily.

Like cymbals within the symphony.

“Nope,” you tell her. “Not a word. I have no idea what’s gotten into him.”

Charlotte goes silent, rubbing at the plates until they’re dry as a bone, and then whispers, “He obviously knows.”

You square your jaw, glancing around to make sure no one is in the vicinity, and then let out a great sigh. “Yeah, I’m sure he does. I was all over Din at the bar.”

Your dear sister brightens at the mention of the night prior. She stops her drying and places her hands upon your shoulders so that you may look her in the eyes. You see mahogany. Deep. Rich. Full of life and excitement. In her eyes, it is proof that she’s a good spirit and in good health. (And…well, maybe a little tipsy, but that’s besides the point.)

“I like him. For you.” Is what she confesses. She places her hands upon your cheeks and squishes them together. You protest, taking her wrists and wrestling her, but giggling all the while. “I mean it. I think he adores you. And so do I.”

You nod in her grasp. “Okay, okay! I know, yes. I know!” you chuckle, breathless from the lack of air supply. She still has you in a chokehold. “Can you please let me go now?!”

Charlotte releases you from her trap and you gasp a throat-full of air, belly aching from laughter. The two of you embrace one another in a hug, attempting to lift the other, and then falling upon the linoleum - sore with serenity.

-

There is something stirring in Din.

It is a fire that has just been fanned from embers he sought to snuff out. But they hadn’t perished, despite how hard he had tried. The coals burned. He burned.

For you.

At the bar, Din ignored Will to the best of his ability; sort of like how one ignores an irritating bumblebee. Leave him be, Din had chanted. He’s harmless. After all, Din had years stacked against Will. How was it possible to be so insecure by this kid?

Because that’s essentially what he is, right? He’s so goddamned young; he looks as though he’s never taken a hit in his life. He’s too pretty, too put together. He’s firm skin and tight abs. And Din, well…

Din was not.

Din was old. He was well past forty years of age now, playing house with a woman over twenty years his senior. No matter how well he managed to keep the façade so believable, it would one day end in disaster - embarrassment. Heartache. And defeat. He can’t bear the thought.

It wasn’t like him. He’s never given a shit about anyone’s perception of him before, nevertheless mulled over the ex of a romantic interest. Not to say that Din’s ever felt the way he did with you; no one has even come close. Xian was his longest “situationship” and when it inevitably burst into flames, he didn’t bat an eye. (He wonders if that makes him a terrible person.) If his toxicity with Xian was worth anything, it was just a testament of his endurance.

But you. The world fucking blurs when you’re near.

So when Will - cocky as Din once was - utters unsolicited bullshit, it takes every ounce of dignity he has left to remain silent.

We had our first kiss that year, remember?

There is a primal urge to reach across the table and wring the smug expression from Will’s face, to grab you with an unfamiliar hunger, carry you across the acre, and toss you onto his bed and just…

No. That was brutish. He wasn’t like that. He couldn’t allow himself to feel possessive over you because you couldn’t be owned. He knew that. But that fire licked at his inner conscious until he had to excuse himself from dinner altogether.

The darkest parts of him pace during the bonfire, though he manages to sit still and interpret Will’s behavior. His youth glows betwixt the crazed flames, an ombré of red and orange dancing across everyone’s skin. Din watches, he listens, he notes every little thing like hunters do. Because for some reason - some ungodly, twisted reason - Din felt as though Will were a bounty now. It’s the only way he could feel superior.

“Daffodil!” Will calls out suddenly. “Get over here!”

The hinges in Din’s jaw pop as he clenches his teeth, grinding them so forcefully he thinks Rhea - who sits beside him - might hear. When you arrive from the house (he guessed you were cleaning up, just as you always do), he notes the skimpy length of your cotton shorts and…

Wait. Is that his shirt?

It is. It’s the very same shirt Din offered you after the rain debacle after the bar. It was one of his favorites despite how plain it was; just a grey t-shirt that fit snugly on him but dwarfed you entirely. It skimmed the top of your knees and pressed against the swell of your chest. That something within him growled once more.

“Come sit,” Will instructs, patting at his lap.

You hesitate. “I…”

Will chuckles, urging you with waggling fingers. “We’ve been like this since we were kids, Daffi. Come on.”

There’s a pathetic attempt to steady himself as Din watches you perch upon Will’s lap.

You’re wearing his shirt. You’re wearing his shirt. You’re wearing his shirt. You’re wearing his shirt…

The group chats a while longer, exchanging stories Din’s never heard, but none of it matters. You’re on another man’s lap. And despite Mark’s very obvious presence, he wants so badly to grip your wrist and run.

“I’ve seen you before,” Will says suddenly. He points a finger in Din’s direction, eyes a little hooded from drink. “Weren’t you at the bar a couple of nights ago?”

Those who partook in the rendezvous go silent. Rhea freezes and Charlotte blanches, looking towards their dear sister who’s pale in the face now. Mark, in his sheer oblivion, raises a brow. Din’s been in every intense situation imaginable, but something about now makes his gut churn.

He could loose you. Right now.

He’s about to lie, to make up some bullshit excuse about having ‘one of those faces’, but Rhea pipes in.

Her voice is strong and firm when she says, “What the hell are you talking about? He wasn’t there.”

Effortless. Shoulders sag, the tension subsiding thanks to Rhea’s impeccable skill.

“Strange. Swore I saw you with…” he shakes his head and shrugs. “Never mind.”

An artificial laugh - so sickly sweet that it’s almost impossible to digest - escapes your lips. “You must’ve drank too much. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

-

His kiss takes you by surprise.

You’re walking back to the house after the men have soiled the fire and everyone’s said their good nights when he just does it.

It’s covertly enough, but it’s shocking. A massive hand encircles your wrist and pulls you behind the shed out back, pressing you against the mossy wood and stealing the breath from your lungs. It’s the biggest risk the two of you have taken. For God’s sake, your father is just now walking inside the main house and Din’s mouth is attached to the hollow of your neck.

You’re dizzy, gripping his shoulders so tightly that the fabric of his shirt warps beneath your fingers. “Din,” you breathe out. He kisses you speechless again and you break for air. “Din, what’s the matter?”

He curses under his breath. It’s sharp. Fuck. It’s not angry, per say, but it is damaged. You weave your fingers through his hair as he settles his breathing, concentrating on the strings of your shorts that he fiddles with.

“I…” He sighs, pressing his nose against your cheek. His breath is warm and you shiver. “He touched you.”

He sounds ashamed. Embarrassed. You can’t imagine how difficult it must be to vocalize your self-doubt as someone who relishes in secrecy. He had a wall built around him and it was made of iron.

“Not like you,” you whisper shyly.

You had some walls of your own. He was tearing them down like that of Jericho.

There’s softness in the air. The two of you are silent, eyes closed, and mouths inches apart. Exchanging of breath. It’s an ancient form of intimacy.

You trust him. You trust him with your life.

His hand feels natural in your own as you lift it to your breast. The trembling of his fingers is almost endearing; the man was far older than you and he still shook at the mere touch of a woman.

“No one can touch me like you.” Your hands glide south, pressing underneath the fabric covering the raw parts of you, until you stop at the band of your panties. “No one can.”

It’s all he needs to hear.

Soon after, he kisses you fiercely, but not without nodding in agreement. And that very hand, which grazes so deliciously at your belly, finally dips.

Sparks.

#strawberryfic #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #din x you #din x reader #din x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

[wornoutmouse]

Sukuna pt 1

So i wrote this man's name wrong in this whole thing but you got me fucked up if you think I'm going back and editing. It will be fixed in the part 2

Dubious Concent, very breif religious themes, manipulation

Spoiler: this takes place after the deal

"So there's something I have yet to tell you about." You raise your face from your textbook and look over at Yuji.

It was Saturday and you two had agreed to study together well, you were studying, he was more or less watching you solve problems that "had too many letters to be math."

"What is it Yuji?" The pink haired boy scratched the back of his head as he looked anywhere but your face. You raise an inpatient eyebrow and glare at him over the rim of your glasses. "Let's talk about it today not tomorrow please."

A faint blush formed over the bridge of his nose as he made eye contact with you again. "Well you see, I kinda got a curse demon thing named Sakuna inside of my body cause I kinda ate 4 out of 20 of his fingers."

The room was filled with silence as Yuji waited for your response. You blinked once. Then twice. Then thrice. "Get the hell out my house Itadori." Was all you said as you returned to your book and mumbled a quick prayer.

"What seriously I didn't even get to explain!" You closed your book and threw it at him. "I am a child of God if you don't get yo demonic self out of my bubble of safety!" Yuji dogged the incoming stack of literature with a playful smile on his face.

"Aw come on Y/n, you haven't even met the guy! What happened to don't judge a book by it's cover?" You put a hand on your hip, "Yeah well this book doesn't have very good reviews."

You walked up to your desk drawer and pulled out a cross and a spray bottle you had blessed. "If you really got all that in ya guts, let me meet him then." A concerned face comes over Yuji's features. "Well uh...I was joking."

 You cross your arms over your chest and trap your foot, Yuji gulps slowly and you can't help but notice his eyes briefly travel down. You drop your arms and wiggle your jello like body to get his attention.

"I don't think it's a good idea right now he hasn't shut up since we've got here." You roll your eyes, "Oh no backing out now, let me meet him since he has so much to say!"

You saunter up to Yuji with a smirk on your face, "Don't be a chicken, if I get in trouble you can just come save me can't you?" Yuji nodded but looked to the side still conflicted, "All right but only for a moment." 

You shrugged and walk back to your bed,  truly not believing that your friend was 'cursed'. As you go to put your cross back, hands come to hold your waist. "Wow Yuji, take me to dinner first!"

Itadori doesn't respond and you tense as you feel a warm breath caresses your neck. "The hell…?" Turning around you look up at Yuji with a bored face. "Are you still doing your little demon bit?"

Yuji's eyes are closed but his mouth is spread wide in a grin as dark lines creep onto his smooth skin. To your complete horror, his eyes finally open along with two others from what you had first assumed to be some type of symmetrical scarring.

"Well would you look at that, the brat actually trusted me." You pull away, the harsh feeling of your desk behind you, burned like fire as you realised you had nowhere else to go.

"T-This can't be real, stop playing with me Yuji." A sharp smirk formed on Yuji's face but you knew it wasn't him. "Oh no this is as real as it gets sweet cheeks." The curse, Sakuna backs away from you and looks around your room.

"So this is a modern home now a days?" You slowly pork yourself away from your desk and back towards your front door. "This would be a dorm but yeah." Sakuna glances at you from the corner of his eyes and you violently found yourself standing in front of your bed.

"What the hell!?" You yell as you stumble in place. "Why are you trying to run dear, the party is just starting." You frown and  turn back to see Sakuna's grinning face. '

'forgive me Yuji but I'm about to beat your body to a pulp' 

Calculated eyes go down your figure and you couldn't help but shiver with anticipation. "You know the kid was right. Ever since we arrived I couldn't stop talking about what a glorious piece of ass you were." 

The new personality rolled Yuji's head in thought as he gazed at your pudgy figure, "Alot of ass it seems."

A presence formed behind you and rough hands enveloped your cheeks, turning your face to glare up at Sakuna. "I don't know if it's the foreigner blood in you but you're a gem doll!" Sakuna purred into your ear.

A warm tongue swipes your cheek and you cringe away. "Would you look at that, you kinda do taste like chocolate!" You jerk your body away from the giggling curse and wipe your face with the sleeve of your shirt. "Ya know I'm really starting not to like you dude."

Sakuna blinked with wide eyes, "Dude?"  The air around the two of you seemed to cool a multitude of degrees as an unseen force flings you at the wall above your bed. "Ow-" your complaint is cut off as Sakuna appears before you with the same wide eyes.

"You need to learn some damn manners 'dude'." Sakuna pushes you down on your back with one hand while the other props him up above you. "Let's get to know each other huh, have a lil fun?!" 

Sakuna leans down and kisses you. It's harsh and unforgiving and consists mostly of gnashing teeth. It may have been your imagination but you swear you could taste hints of metallic forming on your swollen lips. Any further investigation is forgotten as Sakuna's tongue roughly explored your mouth, swallowing your whimpers.

You weakly raise a hand against his firm chest as he growled against your mouth. After long last, you were able to break away long enough to speak as air returned to your lungs, "Y-Yuji!" 

Sakuna covers a hand over your mouth, "Not yet, I'm not finished." Sakuna looks at you for a moment, clearly annoyed. "Let's make a deal coco." Your nerves twitched at the nickname.

"Don't call me that, and why do you think I'd make a deal with you!?" Sakuna grinned as he squished your cheeks together with a mocking tone in his voice. "Because I have the power to hold your precious brat back long enough to snap your pretty little neck."

This of course was not true as per his previous agreement  but you didn't need to know that. "What kinda deal you talking about, it ain't got nothing to do with my soul do it?" Sakuna tossed his cotton candy head back with a honk of a laugh. "You mortals are so funny."

A bit of an adoring look came over Sakuna's face as he looked at you. The expression was so unexpected, for a moment you thought Itadori had regained control. "The deal is; I have 4 minutes to do whatever I want with you and then I hand the reigns back to pretty boy."

You glare into Sakuna's many eyes, "Promise?" Sakuna pressed a clawed hand across his heart and a sky smile washed over his face.

"I make no promises I make deals."

I already got the rest but i kinda wanna hear y'all beg

#black y/n #blackreader #kinktober #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #jjk smau #jjk smut #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ MY OTHER HALF ❜

✨ REQUEST: nose si voy tarde però bueno, espero que no. i would like to request (obviously if that is okay for you) a headcanon with angel x reader of the day of their wedding, like súper súper fluffy.

✨ MADE BY: @artofvamps

WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤

❚❙ Especial thanks to my lovely @angelreyesgirl for helping me with this wonderful masterpiece 🖤✨

❚❙ GIF credits: to the amazing @angels-reyes.

❚❙ ANGEL REYES MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

Never in your life you could think about having a most perfect wedding, Angel didn't care about it too much, being enough for him to see you happy.

The most magical place you have ever been. Especially when the sun is almost falling, around five pm.

From the window of his room, you can see the backyard perfectly decorated by Creeper and Riz. They didn't lie when they told you that would be amazing.

White and red roses everywhere, forming vines wrapping the wooden beams of the altar. Over the guests' chairs, there are six fairy lights, giving some more intimacy when the night has come; and a red carpet in the hallway, over the grass.

All your friends are there, mixed with the Mayans, waiting for you.

Your hands are trembling, alone in Taza's room, while you hear some voices and laughs outside. You can't help but take another look of yourself in the mirror.

The white dress fits your body perfectly, falling from your chest to the floor.

The girl at the shop called it ‘a-line wedding dress’. You don't care about the name, but about the fact that you look like the most beautiful girl. Your hair is tied on top of your head, behind a delicate silver tiara and small red crystals in it. Soft make-up, that Bishop's Old Lady did for you, just like your future husband likes.

Felipe is run of words when he comes to the room, but you can see what he thinks in his eyes, about to cry.

You know that he would like that Marisol could see you marrying her son. She would love to see the man Angel turned himself into since he met you three years ago.

“Hey, I’m Angel Reyes, and you know what? You’ll be my wife one day”.

He wasn’t wrong.

But he’s not going to lie. He has been the whole night having nightmares about you running away from him; about you deciding that you didn’t want a life with him.

Ezekiel and Coco have been awake too, comforting him whenever the doubts hit his mind.

Holding Felipe’s arm, he guides you downstairs to the outside, feeling your legs shaking and your heart about to explode. You have doubts too. You’re scared of him taking a step back at the last moment.

Although every bad feeling disappears from the two of you, as soon as you lay eyes with each other.

Angel is about to cry. So are you.

For you, for him, there's no one else around your orbit. Just the two of you. Him waiting at the wedding altar, watching you walk over the red carpet perfectly placed on the ground.

And, damn. You thought that Angel couldn't look better, until you have seen him wearing that suit.

A black suit, covering the immaculate white shirt under a silver waistcoat with mayan symbols tissues in it. His hair is perfectly brushed to the back of his head and his beard is giving you desires of kissing it.

Seriously, it should be illegal to look this good.

But the detail that steals all your attention is the fact that he isn't wearing his characteristics rings. That big silver cross in his right pinkie and a signet ring with the Virgin of Guadalupe in his ring finger.

Felipe kisses your cheek, to intertwine his son's hand with yours.

You can't help but use your free hand to clean the tears falling down his cheeks, making Angel chuckles softly. You are always taking care of him with the most minimal details, showing him how much you love him, before leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

“You changed me. You changed my life. You came with that smile, illuminating all the darkness around me. You've accepted me, advised me, shown me the road to happiness, put me first. You've never, ever, judged me. You've healed me, you've healed my wounds, my soul, my heart. You gave me the opportunity I always thought I would never have… You, mi reina, have loved me unconditionally without asking for anything back. I don't have enough words to express how I feel every morning when I wake up with you under my arms, when I kiss you, when I see you dancing in our kitchen, when you… look me with these beautiful eyes as if I was the fucking Big Bang happening in front of you”. Bringing your hands to his mouth, Angel kisses every knuckle of them. “I can't imagine a single day without you, without hearing your laugh, without reading your texts desiring me a good day when you wake up and I'm already gone. I don't wanna live a single day without hearing you singing in the shower, without riding my bike with you behind my back, without you smacking my ass and screaming ‘daaaamn, this is all mine’! You make me happy like no one could do. You make me feel important like no one could do. And I promise you, fuck… I swear it to God, that I'm gonna give you all of me. Every second of every minute, of every hour of every day till the end of my time. I don't want to live without you”.

Now, it's Angel who has to clean your tears, causing some laughs between the guests. And he can't help but wrap you with his arms in a tight, tight hug. The warmest and dearly hug he has ever given you.

“I didn't know what love was until I met you. I didn't know which was the meaning of life until I met you. Mi rey. My other half. It was you, and only you, since I saw you the first time sitting on your bike, smoking and with that face of grumpy idiot”. The guests laugh again, because they all know that pose. “And then you standed up and started to walk, and I thought ‘what the hell is wrong with his leg’”. More laughs. The loudest comes from your future husband. “But I would never change you for anyone else. We've been through bad days and good days. Shitty nights and funny nights. I would never change my life with you for anything else. No one has ever made me happy as you do every moment of my existence. You're the most awesome, incredible, loyal and lovely man I have ever met. You fight for me, you take care of me, you protect me. You make me smile whenever I feel insufficient, whenever I feel sad, whenever I feel that I don't belong anywhere. My home, my life, my happiness is wherever you are, Angel Reyes”.

Then, Taza as the priest looks at the two of you, before guiding his dark eyes towards you. “Would you want to take Angel Ignacio Reyes in hol—”. He can't finish, being interrupted by the man in question clicking his tongue. “Of fucking course she wants”. Gently grabbing your chin with a hand and placing the other on the back of your head, Angel kisses you by pecking your lips, making you laugh.

But Leti breaks the moment, coughing exaggeratedly. You asked her to be the flower girl and she has been practicing the last month, to don’t mess up her task. The most important one, actually.

For the next two hours, you can’t stop looking at your hand tangled with Angel’s, and the two fresh golden rings in your fingers. To other people they could be just two pieces of jewelry, but for you it’s the purest way to show him your love, your support, and your unconditional trust in him.

And for the next two hours, Angel can’t stop kissing your face all around. Going down with furtive kisses on your neck, your shoulder, your knuckles; not being able to take off from you his other arm around your waist, tightly closed to push you next to him.

Coco and Gilly are in charge of the speech, knowing that it’s going to be more funny than you thought, when they get up from their chairs drunk as fuck after too many shots of tequila. “Yo, mami… you really got the golden dick”. “Man!” Gilly punches him on the shoulder, making him strumble with his own feet and having to grab the other’s jacket to not fall. “I’m speaking the truth! Who was gonna think that he would get the girl to this point, ah?” “Not me”. “Me neither”. “You jealous, ah, motherfuckers?” Angel tosses them a napkin, causing the laugh of everyone around you. “Seriously, girl… How you do it to st—”.

“Enough?” Leti whispers to EZ, sitting by her side. The younger Reyes nods in silence, getting up, making Creeper and Riz a sign to take them off from the center of the yard; between curses in spanish and in some kind of invented language because of the alcohol.

“Hey, brother, I just want to tell you that by far this is the happiest moment of my life. You don’t deserve anything but all the love and the affection, and we all know that only her can give it to you”. You’re starting to think that EZ’s purpose is making Angel cry, because his eyes are being filled up with a bunch of tears now. “Our lives haven’t been easy, you know that… And you have put all the weight on your shoulders since ever, but I’m proud of you. Of who you are. Of calling you my brother. Mi sangre. I don’t desire you anything but happiness, Angel”.

“Yeah, and God bless your patience, sister”. Leti can’t help but add that remark, trying to not laugh when she finds you nodding energetically, before kissing your husband’s tears running down his cheek.

The big toast echoes all around the ranch, in the meantime that the prospects from Yuma and Stockton bring the cake. One of them. That’s the main, a three-story cake of black and white chocolate with your names drawn in red. Canche’s wife has made it for you. She’s an amazing pastry.

And you thought that Angel wouldn’t do it. HE PROMISED YOU ONE HUNDRED TIMES.

But that piece of shit were lying,

Stamping a piece of cake on your face, your husband quickly grabs your wrists to avoid you punch him, or do the same to him. As you sob between chuckles, keeping your eyes closed, Angel licks your lips with the tip of his tongue. “Mi dulce, mi favorito”.

“You promised me…”

“Ah, ah… I promised that I wouldn’t smash YOUR face IN the cake. And I didn't”.

After cleaning yourself and changing the heavy dress for another one that fits your silhouette to the perfection, you are ready to give your husband the last surprise of your wedding.

“Are you takin' me to a dark corner?” “Stop asking, Angel… You'll see”.

At the front yard, a baseball bat and a ball awaits. “What's that, baby?”

“Sh… I throw you the ball, and you hit it, okay?”

So there you are, watching Angel in position as in his old times, when he used to play in highschool.

You throw it.

He hits it.

And in just one second, the distance between you gets caught up by a pink powder, almost staining your clothes.

Angel is in shock. The bat falls from his hand. Eyes widened. Parted lips. His skin bristled, as his cheeks got wet again because of the tears.

“Felicidades, papi”.

He can't stop crying, embracing you with all his strength to his chest. Your husband can't believe anything that is happening today. All he has ever wanted is happening in a sight.

“The day we met, you told me that one day I would be your wife. And I told you that you looked like the father of my future children”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨ #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader

[meshlasolus]

Cruel Irony

4/?

Bale!Bruce Wayne x Reader

Okay so I've been thinking about the plot of this story and I think I finally found a good direction for it that I like and it will last through the during of all three movies. Batman begins will be considered season one, then dark knight and so on. Also, some people reached out and were confused by the time lines of when things have been taking place, so if yall want me to make a post about the timeline of this story, pls comment or message me!

Series Summary: Growing up on infinity Island, Moyra is taught very well in the art of assassination. As the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, she sits highly amongst the brotherhood known as the League of Shadows. When her father orders her to lure a stranger from the outside to be recruited amongst the mysterious clan, she will question everything she's ever believed.

Chapter Warnings: more angst... but also more fluff. This is like the most vanilla book I've ever written but it won't stay that way I promise lol

My weakness was growing, and I did nothing to stop it... but why should I? I was strong enough even in my weakness to face the greatest threats, so truly it was okay for me to give in a little. Give into the strange and foreign feelings I kept for Bruce Wayne. He was truly exceptional in everything, and with each day that past, I knew I could call him my best friend.

He was a bit older than me, not by enough to make us want to distance our friendship, but it did make some topics of discussion strange. Like when we spoke of school, he'd been to all grades, including high school, and some years in college. I somewhat envied his education, though with all my spare time, I was able to study well myself, I lacked the ability to learn certain things, for I was not well equipped to do so.

He also mentioned how many years he spent traveling before he ran away. So many places he'd been to, and seen with his own eyes, not just through photographs like I did.

"What about Paris? I hear it's the most beautiful city in the world?" I asked, back against his wall and my legs curled up onto the bed. He was figeting with some things on the floor, trying to fix something I had know idea of.

"Well it depends on what time of year you go.... it's really lovely in the spring." He said, smiling at the thought of when his mother took him to visit distant relatives there. He missed those days dearly.

"Hmm." I thought for a moment, trying to recall somewhere else I'd always wanted to go after seeing it in pictures. "Have you ever been to Boston in the fall?"

He nearly smirked, and I thought that maybe I'd stumped him, but then he nodded and I was again jealous of him. "Boston is maybe the most beautiful place to exist during the fall."

I groaned plafully and threw my head back against the wall, feigning aggravation to him, when really it was quite the opposite. I admired him for being such an adventure seeker, and wished I could be him.

"What's wrong?" He perked up from the floor.

I relieved a sigh before looking back down at him and explained my expressive outburst.

"You've been everywhere! I've... never really been anywhere. This place has been my home since forever, the only other place I ever lived was not a decent one... not at all."

"Have you ever talked to your father about leaving?" He furrowed his brows and came to sit beside me. I understood where he was coming from, but clearly this part of the League's creed had not been explained to him.

"Even if I did, as apart of the League of Shadows I would not be permitted to leave my brothers. Unless I left everything behind... and I can't do that. I've sworn my life to protect these people, and when you're sworn in, I'll protect you too. It's just not suitable for me to leave... I need to keep my loyalty here." I need to keep my loyalty with you, Bruce. Though my thoughts were not bellowed aloud, I meant them. I needed to stay here and let my relationship with him grow. And when the time came for him to swear himself to oath, I would be here, standing beside him.

"Maybe we'll all get to go somewhere someday, and you'll get to see a new part of the world..." he nudged my shoulder and got me to look up and smile. I appreciated the small words such as those, they meant more to me than he probably intended. They gave subtle bits of hope for the future.

"Bruce, where are you from?"

He shifted next to me, as if he was not expecting that question, but he didn't look uncomfortable, just surprised.

"I'm from a place called Gotham City, born and raised there." He said with a thin lipped smile. He didn't seem disturbed by it until after the name of the city had been uttered. Like the words left a bad taste in his mouth.

"My father has mentioned it before... I didn't know you'd lived there."

"Well, to be fair, I didn't want anyone to know." He paused, turning to me and giving me a glance and a smirk. "But I trust you."

"You do?" I didn't know how to react to that, but my features took charge anyway, letting my eyebrows raise and eyes to widen as a smike crossed my face.

"Should I not?" He joked, turning and tilting his head in curiosity.

"I just.. I didn't know if you did. I was hoping you did." I was talking too much, and I realized just in time. I dropped my head to the ground, and fiddled with my hands. This was not like me at all. I never struggled to find the right words, or stumble over too many of them. I was one to shoot a witty remark, and crack a joke. What was happening to me. He was turning me to mush beside him.

"Do you trust me?" He asked intently after a few seconds. I didn't even hesitate, nor take a second beat to answer.

"I do." I nodded along with my simple answer, and though my head was still towards my hands, I could practically feel him smile next to me. I needed to see it for myself, it always made my knees weak. I looked up and sure enough his smile was radiant and beaming.

We spent the afternoon talking more about our homes, where we grew up, although I'd lied quite a bit about my past, trying to keep the mood happy, and not depressing. He was so joyful when he talked about his parents, and what good people they were. It must have been horrible to have them snatched away from him, and at such a young age. I could relate, but only to an extent. I had my father, alive and well, and he had... well, no one.

🦇

Later in the day, after the sun was nearly all the way down around the icy mountain peaks, Bruce and my father had returned from another hard day of training. I was smiling to see him at first, but the look of glee fell from my face almost immediately after seeing that Bruce was drenched with ice water.

"You didn't..." I murmured to my father.

"I did, and he learned a valuable lesson." He replied, walking closer to me.

"You mean like I did?" I said snappily, with a hint of anger in my tone. I would not raise my voice to my father, but I would express my feelings any other way I could.

"That was different, he's fine... I promise." He assured me, but I was growing angrier still. He brushed past me, laying a hand on my shoulder before he left, then I made my way to Bruce.

"You're freezing." I stated the obvious, watching him clutch at his arms, while he attempted to huddle into himself more. I grabbed one of his hands and nearly winced from how cold it was. "Come on, Frosty."

I pulled him by the hand, getting him into his room before going down the hall a bit to fetch some of his dry clothes. He took them from me gratefully and I left him to change. I was still flaming on the inside with anger and just flat out annoyance to my father. I still couldn't believe he'd done it again.

I went and knocked on Bruces door after a few minutes of tirelessly pacing and cursing under my breath to the air around me. He opened up and I stormed in, without realizing how pissed off I looked.

"I'm the one that got soaked, why are you upset?" He tried to joke, although his breathing was still wobbly and his words were unsteady due to his constant shivers.

I took a deep breath and calmed down. I pulled him by the hand got him into the bed. He wrapped himself up and slowly started to defrost a bit more from the heat of the blanket around him. I sat on the foot of the bed, against the wall like I normally did, ready to explain my pissy self.

"He promised me he wouldn't pull a stunt like this ever again. Not after what happened with me... that's why I'm upset. He broke a promise." I said, tucking my legs under the blanket to donate some body warmth from myself to him.

"What happened with you?" He asked, his voice was more even, but still not solid as it usually was.

"Back when I was still training, he took he out on the ice a few times. The last time we went, we'd done everything he taught me, but he still thought I wasn't skilled enough, so he broke the ice beneath me and I went in. There was a slight current in the water so he couldn't reach in and pull me out. I got stuck and had to swim against the current until he could grab me. I almost died from hypothermia after that. He promised me he'd remove it as a training exercise for anyone else to come...." I let the aggression fade with each sentence, realizing that I needed to save my anger for someome that deserved it. "If you get sick, I swear-"

"I'm okay..." he interrupted. He nearly sounded like his regular self again, though still with a shred of wavering in his voice. He reached down and grabbed my hand, and I felt it was less cold. "Can you come lay here?"

I nodded, realizing how much he must be coveting my body heat at the moment. I crawled up next to him and got beneath the thick blanket that lay atop him. He shivered at the newfound warmth, and slowly began to relax to it. He was faced towards me, but his eyes had closed shut, and I absentmindedly curled my fingers through the strands of his dark, damp hair. I'd never seen a head of hair so thick and full in my life. It was so soft, too, like silk running between my fingers.

When I thought he'd fallen asleep, I began to climb out from underneath the blanket, but I was stopped by a hand pulling me back in. I heaved a sigh, rolling back over and draping an arm over the cold body next to me. His temperature was speedily returning now, so I kept on while rubbing small circles into his arm and over his chest.

Somewhere between sleep and awake I found myself drousily thinking about how this felt, to be so close to him and yet still having no idea what this feeling in my stomach meant. Why did he always arise sensations in me that I couldn't place? He didn't even know what he was doing to me.

I'm in trouble....

Tags are open!

@huntheimpossible

#bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman #christian bale #batman x reader #batman begins #batman #the dark knight #the joker #the joker x reader

[lordoftermites]

The Fox & the Thornbush | Part 3

Pairing: Roiben x Kaye Rating: M for violence and bleedy bits Summary: This is it. The Undersea Attack. Maybe eventually I'll go back and do more with it but. This took... a lot to write and honestly I can't even write a summary for it. I'm sorry in advance.

part 1. // part 2.

Faerie is a deadly place, he had told her once.

Kaye hadn’t believed him then—or, more despairingly, she had believed him, and was just far too willful to listen.

Even after the coronation in Elfhame, when Balekin had slaughtered near to every member of the royal family in a coup to usurp the throne, Kaye had persisted. She left her coffee shop, her dreams, abandoned her life in the light of the mortal world to live with him in the damp darkness of the Palace of Termites.

For her sake, Roiben had tried to convince himself that it would be a good change. That it was true—he had grown weary of having to steal away like some thief in the night to see her so sparingly, only to come back to a cold bed under a cold hill, alone.

After a while he began to believe that, perhaps, now that Kaye was at his side, within his reach at all times, that the frigid ache in his chest would abate—that he could finally be content.

Perhaps faeries couldn’t speak a lie with their own mouths, but Roiben had been telling himself untruths for longer than he could remember.

Kaye rolls over onto her side, burrowing farther beneath the coverlet. Her wild hair splays in lush, green tangles over the pillow. She sleeps soundly, verdant lips parted, once in a while letting out a small sigh here or near-inaudible word there. Roiben watches her from his place on the bed—their bed, he reminds himself—as though if he were to look away, she might very well disappear with one of those sighs.

He’s been awake for hours now, ripped from yet another nightmare, his chest heaving, his stomach threatening to upend the acrid bile in the back of his throat, while morbid death stares burned behind his eyes. They were the spectres of his sins, reminding him the blood on his hands has not, and shall not, wash away.

At least, this time, there had been no screaming.

A lock of deep green hair lies across Kaye’s face. It flutters slightly when she exhales, only to fall back against her lips. Her nose crinkles in her sleep, disturbed and perhaps dreaming of something else. Roiben reaches to brush it away but stops himself short, his fingers hovering mid-air. He ought to let her just sleep, he knows.

Yet, before he can convince himself not to, he’s leaning down, brushing the hair back with his mouth instead.

Kaye stirs and makes a light, disgruntled noise, until she seems to realize what’s happening. Then she’s lazily kissing him back, pressing her lips against his, parting just enough for him to sweep her mouth. One of her hands comes up to rest on the nape of his neck, her long fingers tangling in the hair there. Roiben sighs against her lips at the feeling; it’s light and comforting, warming that chill in his bones she alone has ever been able touch.

As often as he scorns himself for giving in to her decision to stay here permanently with him in Faerie, it’s selfish moments like this that he wouldn’t have her anywhere else. He can face the demons waiting in his nightmares—so long as she’s with him.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” Kaye says drowsily, black eyes fluttering up to his, lidded with sleep and something else. Roiben hovers over her, grinning. “What was that for? I mean, not that I mind or anything.”

He shakes his head, still unused to the lightness of his newly-cropped hair. “A compulsion, I suppose,” he answers, and lowers himself again to bury his face in the crook of her neck, breathing deep the scents of moss and clover. He can’t quite bring himself to admit aloud that it was more to solidify her presence—to give himself physical reassurance that she isn’t part of a cruel trick his mind so often played on him.

Kaye strokes the back of his head gently, as if she already knows, as if perhaps she too needs the reminder that neither of them are made of phantoms and longing. Roiben kisses the column of her green neck, an arm curling under her, pulling her closer and yet still not close enough. She tilts her head with a soft hum of encouragement. “Whatever it is, I could get used to waking up like this.”

Her hands slide over his shoulders, down his bare arms, along his spine. Roiben shivers and shifts his weight, caging her body beneath him. His mouth drifts along the line of her clavicle to the base of her throat. One of his hands slips under the coverlet to the silklike flesh of her thigh, drawing it up to bracket his hip, while his lips brush against the flushed swell of her chest. Kaye’s hushed sighs as he arches against her spark a flame behind his navel, galvanizing him into urgent desire.

What he wouldn’t do to just simply stay here with her forever, to revel in her touch, her warmth, her love. Let the crowns decay. Let the duties and the demands and the courts crumble to nothing; let him be only a knight and a man again, to be content. Unburdened.

As if the fates decided he needed reminding of his reality, a light rapping at the door to his chambers breaks through their intimate solace.

Roiben ignores it at first, tells himself whatever it is will go away. Surely a herald, one of his knights, or even his chamberlain can handle it—not every small thing ought to be a king's concern, especially not when his council members are already far more inclined to do his duty for him. He doesn't cease his kisses, and instead channels into them the denial of obligations and the desires of his soul. His fingers grip Kaye's thigh tighter in desperation, attempting to tether himself to her and this moment alone. Leave us, his mind pleads. Find another doorway to darken.

But the knocking comes again, this time carrying a touch more confidence and urgency.

Suddenly furious, unfulfilled, and ultimately defeated, Roiben growls against Kaye's skin before pushing himself up. She watches him with heady eyes, seeming just as exasperated at the interruption as he. Her hand lingers on his arm. "Just tell them to fuck off," she suggests, though it's half-hearted. She knows as well as he does that it's very seldom anything he can simply wave or wish away.

"If we're fortunate," he sighs, bending down to give her one last kiss and then forcing himself to rise from the bed, "it will be nothing but our breakfast.” In a moment, he’s crossed the room and wrenched the heavy door open. Ruddles himself is there, hand raised as though he had just been about to give another, less-timid knock; he lowers the hand, and himself before Roiben, bowing low enough that his nose might brush the floor if given another half inch.

“My King,” the hob greets in his usual rasp before straightening. He seems to realize his king’s half-naked appearance and forced even breathing, but carries on. “I apologize for the disturbance at such an early hour, but I assumed you would want to be informed we’ve had a messenger come and go without our receiving him.”

Propping an arm against the door, Roiben barely suppresses a roll of his eyes. “It is not an uncommon thing for a courier to go missed.“ He knows his tone is clipped, but he doesn’t bother to correct it. “Why does this time require my chamberlain coming to my private rooms, when clearly whatever message left was not of enough import to be received in the first place?”

That seems to bristle the hob, who takes a rather deliberate, offended breath through his sharply-pointed nose. “Because, the message was left while the entire hill slept,” Ruddles answers gruffly. His brows are furrowed as if there really is something to be worried about, and his sovereign is, as usual, too unconcerned. “No one saw the messenger arrive, nor did they witness his departure.”

It’s Roiben’s turn to frown. That couldn’t be right: since the rebuilding of the Palace of Termites, they had sentries posted through dawn and dusk, and as many guards patrolling the hill. Surely someone ought to have seen this phantom envoy. Foreboding gnaws at his gut; he doesn’t like mystery, and he likes even less when that mystery involves his playing the part of the ignorant fool.

“What was this message? Did you bring it with you?”

Ruddles shakes his tawny head and wrings his hands. “It was a parcel, a large one, addressed to the Lord of the Court of Termites. We left it where it was found—” he pauses, the troubled expression on his face doing nothing to quell the rising uneasiness Roiben feels—”in the throne room… more pointedly, on your throne.”

A deliberate act, and a bold one. The thought of it sets Roiben’s teeth on edge. “I see,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his jaw, deliberating.

From behind him, Kaye yawns. Roiben turns back to look at her, where she’s stretching and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, green hair falling over her shoulders. Just the sight of her, wrapped in his spider silk coverlet and little else, makes him ache with longing. It takes everything he can muster not to bolt the door in Ruddles' face.

She squints at him, as if attempting to focus her vision or read his thoughts, tilts her head in a question. Roiben tries a casual smile and holds up a finger, before turning back to his chamberlain. “Gather Dulcamara and Ellebere,” he instructs. “See if either of them know anything. I’ll meet the three of you in the throne room presently, and we’ll see just exactly what gift our shadow messenger has left us.”

The hob gives a shallow bow and backs away before turning on his heel and setting back off through the corridor. When Roiben closes the heavy wooden door, he leans against it momentarily, breathing a long sigh that does nothing to relieve any of the pressure in his chest.

How exhausted he is of intrigues and suspicions, of forging treaties that seem as stable as a thread stretched above a candle flame. Roiben himself feels like that thread—fraying at both ends while trying to hold his kingdom between his teeth, at any moment about to burn up with the burden of it all.

Take this from me, he had once thought, after his coronation as the Unseelie ruler. I do not want to be your king.

Now, he had two crowns, each heavy as a boulder on their own. Together, they are a mountain, and may very well crush him beneath their weight.

“What was that about?” Kaye’s voice calls from the bed. Roiben moves from the door and crosses the room to sit beside her. When he goes to kiss her cheek, he takes a selfish moment to breathe in the smell of her again, something to take with him. “I’m not entirely sure,” he replies, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I expect nothing but trouble, as usual. But I won’t be gone a moment—” he leans in again, grazing his lips against her neck with a promise—”and when I return, we can forget them all again.”

Before he can lose himself, Roiben pushes off of the bed. He pulls on a fresh set of clothing—a simple black tunic with trousers to match, and a pair of boots. From the chair beside his bed, he takes up his curved sword and straps it to his waist. Its weight is one he is used to, cold and secure at his hip.

With an apologetic glance back at Kaye, who shoos him with a small wave before shuffling back under the coverlet, he slips through the door.

Dulcamara is perched on the dais when he arrives in the throne room, clad in her beetle-black armor, polishing a dagger while her pink glare remains fixed on the throne. She stands when Roiben enters, however, and gives him a small bow of her head; as reverent a gesture as he likes, if he must be revered at all. “The hob is off searching for Ellebere,” she tells him in her gravel-scraping voice. “Must we wait for our curiosities to be sated?” Her head bobs in the direction of the throne.

As proficient a knight as Dulcamara is, her impatience often wills out, even when it comes to the one she serves.

Roiben shakes his head with a snort. “I suppose it isn’t a requirement,” he admits, stepping up onto the dais. “Though I doubt Ruddles will be much pleased when we solve the mystery without him.” Even so, eyeing the parcel, Roiben finds himself every bit as curious as he is wary.

As Ruddles said, what’s been placed on his throne is no small thing: it covers nearly half the seat itself, dome-shaped and wrapped in a cloth of deep blue velvet, tied together at the top with golden string. It certainly looks like a gift. Yet, as Roiben reaches out to take the small slip of folded parchment resting beside it, his title addressed in a dark blue flourish across the front, an icy dread seeps into his bones. When he opens the letter, he has to clutch the arm of the throne as the dais pitches up to meet him.

From behind him, Dulcamara’s voice seems distant, distorted. “What does it say?” Without turning, Roiben holds the note out to her, suddenly finding it difficult to swallow—or tear his gaze from the parcel. His hand trembles as he reaches to undo the string, to look upon what he already knows lies inside the elaborate wrapping.

“‘Let us see how easily you unwind the wire of your own cage’,” Dulcamara reads. “What sort of riddle—”

“It is no riddle.” He's clenching his jaw hard enough to hurt. His hand goes to grip the blade at his hip. “It is a threat.”

Unwrapped and glinting in the candlelight, just as he remembers, is the gilded birdcage that once held his friend and subject, Lutie-Loo—the very one he freed her from in Balekin’s office less than a year ago. Roiben had made a fool of the would-be king then, promising fealty when he’d already sworn to Prince Dain. Now it would seem his trickery is finally being repaid.

“Dulcamara,” Roiben starts, whirling around, “we need—”

An eruption of sound outside the throne room cuts off whatever order might have given. Before either of them have time to move, Ellebere barrels into the hall, sword in one hand, the other covering his side. Blood and dirt streak his pale face, only adding to the intensity of his frantic expression. “The Undersea,” the knight stammers, “they’re here. They’ve been here.”

Ruddles’ words echo dully in Roiben’s mind. No one saw the messenger arrive, nor did anyone witness his departure.

As Ellebere clambers up onto the dais, Roiben is reminded with a turning in his stomach of the last time he saw the knight in such a state, when Silarial made her move on the court. They had nearly been destroyed because of his underestimating and overconfidence. Has he once again brought ruin to his people? To…

“Kaye.”

The brugh swirls around him. His breath is trapped in his lungs.

As a swarm of bodies pours into the hall, the sharp clashing of metal against metal resounding through the hollow hill, Roiben can see none of it; only Kaye’s face, bloodied and lifeless.

Dead, because of him.

Something solid shoves into him, nearly knocking him to the ground before his legs catch him. Jolted back to the present, he jerks his head up just as Dulcamara brings her blade down in an arc across the front of an advancing selkie; the faerie crumples at her feet, black blood spilling onto the already gore-stained floor of the dais. It had gotten that close, and Roiben hadn’t even seen it. Dulcamara whips around to look at him, pink glare ablaze. Before she can scold him, he shakes his head and grips the sword he can’t remember drawing.

“I have to get to Kaye,” he shouts above the skirmish, already retreating down the other side of the dais, cutting through another Undersea soldier as it hurtles toward him. He is already charging down the hall before she can protest or follow, fear propelling his steps and his blade.

The battle seems to be more focused on the throne room, thankfully; Roiben is stalled only once, by a selkie warrior wielding a longsword of shark bone. Though he takes a slash to the thigh, the other faerie is not nearly as fortunate. He falls to his knees, clutching the gaping hole in his chest when Roiben withdraws his blade.

Biting through the searing pain in his leg, Roiben pushes on, repeating silent pleas that he not be too late.

As he comes to the door of his chambers, a fresh wave of glacial panic seizes him; the door has been thrown wide open and is hanging from the hinges. From the other side he can hear crashing, breaking. A struggle, and then a scream.

Kaye is screaming.

Roiben never feels himself move. He sees nothing but the flash of his sword, slicing through the gray-blue neck of an Undersea knight; hears nothing but his own cry of wild rage, his own deafening heartbeat in his ears. In less than breath, both Kaye and her attacker lie on the floor in a pool of mingling black and crimson.

It has happened, yet Roiben cannot shake the fog of unreality that strangles his breathing, weakens his legs, clouds his vision. His sword falls from his hand, and he collapses to his knees beside Kaye. He stares down in horror at the deep red gash from her throat to her sternum. Someone is sobbing. Blood streams from the wound—too much. There is too much blood.

He pulls her into his lap, holds her gently, covers what he can with a trembling hand. Dark, ruby warmth spills through his fingers and over his wrist. “Kaye,” he chokes, reaching to touch her cheek. His fingers are wet with blood and he has to brace against the sick twisting of his stomach.

Her black eyes are wild and unfocused, but she finds him. Grasps his arm desperately, gasping. She opens her mouth to speak, the beginning of his name on her ashen lips, but it comes out a fearful, small sound, and she doesn’t finish. Roiben strokes her hair and hushes her softly, bringing a kiss to her cool, damp forehead. When he pulls back, the unhinged terror in her eyes burrows like a dagger into his heart. “It’s...“

It’s going to be alright, he tries to tell her. The words will not form.

He cannot force back the sob at realizing why he can't say it. It could be a lie, and Kaye might die right here, in his room. In his arms. Dead before their life together had barely begun. Dead because he hadn't been fast enough. Because he had allowed it—because he had caused it.

Roiben can console himself no more than he can console her.

Faerie is a deadly place, he had told her once.

#like i can't even edit anymore it hurts #so if anything's fucked - well i mean it's all fucked honestly #but if typos or whatever oh well #we get what we get and we don't throw a fit #tf&ttb #the fox & the thornbush #also should i start a tag list #alsO i made that graphic and i'll fuckin choke a bitch if i see it reposted as some thranduil shit #he's just the closest thing to live action roiben as i'm gonna get so #;felix does a write #tfota #tmft #modern faerie tales #the folk of the air #the wicked king #twk #rath roiben rye #kaye fierch #kaye x roiben #roiben x kaye #yknow what fuck it i'm giving them my own ship name #koiben #that's cute as fuck fite me on it #holly black #tfota fic