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sometimesanalice · 9 months

Text

Picture Perfect

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Length: 1K

Warnings: angst and a big scoop of feels

(A what-if drabble, set in the ‘Like I Can’ universe. Can be read on its own.)

“Is Bradley my dad?”

It’s the question that's fueled your 3AM thoughts ever since you had your daughter. It’s one you’d hoped you wouldn’t have to answer until she was older, preferably when she could at least pronounce her r's.

It was inevitable, you knew. Something to be noticed at some parent teacher conference or family fun day in the future. That while most kids had a set of parents, your little family- while perfect on its own- was one short of the traditional white picket fence dream.

You just never would have expected it to come so soon.

Your chest twinges as your now-four-year-old looks up at you with her big, open-hearted doe eyes, the ones that didn’t match your own, with vanilla ice cream smeared across her sweet face.

She was a near perfect image to the man seated next to her with his own vanilla ice cream clinging to the coarse hairs of his mustache and smudged on the left corner of his mouth, but whose wide brown eyes were nearly bulging out of his head looking at you like a deer in headlights.

Bradley was the boy who’d known you when you were in pigtails. The teen who had taught you to drive before you’d had your permit. The man you’d cried to when you’d seen the two lines on a positive pregnancy test weeks after a break up with someone who never deserved access to your body, let alone entrance to your heart.

That man had been all too happy to give up any claim to the little someone growing inside of you. The type who’d elected to send checks instead of birthday cards.

Your parents had wanted you to move home to be closer to them, when you’d told them the news and of your decision, but you didn’t think you could bear the whispers or the looks. Even though you’d love growing up there, returning back on your own hadn’t felt right for you.

Bradley was the one who’d convinced you to move to San Diego.

He was the one who had held your hair as you vomited morning, noon, and night during those early months. The one who had taken you out for late night milkshakes with a knowing smile when the baby craved one. The one who had held your hand and wiped your tears. The one who had stayed up late and woke up early and brought you tea and toast as you figured out how to take care of the tiny person who was an unexpected, but entirely perfect, extension of your imperfect self.

It wasn't a daydream you let yourself indulge in. To imagine what it would be like if you and Bradley were you and Bradley. Not separated by three little letters but joined by them instead.

Your tender heart was already too delicate.

He was the devastatingly handsome man who people assumed was her father- your husband, your partner- on your days out together at the beach, at the zoo, at the grocery store, and at the hanger on base when the two of you waited to welcome him home from deployments with handmade signs covered in doodles and dripping in glitter glue.

Your almost family.

He was yours for now, until he had one of his own.

You watch as the startled look on his face flickers and settles into something softer.

“No, sweet girl. Not quite, but-” Bradley starts, his eyes tender as he looks at her.

He’s already done so much for you, but this was something you had to handle on your own. You might crack, but you wouldn’t shatter.

You’re quick jump in, cutting him off, ignoring the twist of your heart in your chest, “No, peanut. He’s just your Uncle Rooster.”

The term didn’t feel big enough for who he was and what he meant to you. But it would have to do.

“Ok,” you daughter chirps with such simple acceptance. The kind that only a child so young can say with such easy unbothered surety, still soft and sheltered from the world.

You release the breath you were holding as her half-melted ice cream cone claims her attention once again. And then give Bradley a small smile, it's too hard to look at him when the sun bounces off of his wavy strands like that, before you turn your focus back on your own scoop of chocolate cherry chip.

There was no doubt in your mind, the question would come up again later. But for now your answer was enough.

Someday there might be another someone who would love you both in equal measure, but you weren’t in a rush to find them. You had all you needed.

You savor the feeling of your sweet ice cream as it melts on your tongue, listening to the waves as they meet the shore. Content in the glow of the setting sun and warmth of being surrounded by your two favorite people.

Your daughter and your Bradley.

Her Uncle Rooster.

Bradley didn’t know what to say when the miniature mirror of you, the one with the same nose that scrunched the same way when she laughed, asked if he was her father.

It was something that came up from time to time when he was lucky enough to tag along with your dynamic duo. Usually from well-meaning grandmas with warm smiles complimenting his lovely family. He’d never felt the need to correct them about the labels because the two of you were his family.

He knew your routines, he knew your likes and dislikes better than his own. He was the one who had been there to see her first smile, to cheer for her when she took her first steps. It was his name and phone number that were listed in the emergency contacts for you and for her.

Being with the two of you was so much more than he’d ever imagined it would be when he’d cradled her in his arms and whispered his promise to alway look after you both the day she was born, as you’d slept soundly next to him in the uncomfortable hospital bed exhausted from your efforts.

But looking at you now with the golden sunset illuminating your face and the little girl next to you kicking her legs as she happily licked her ice cream cone, he liked the promise future he saw in front of him. He loved the potential of what could be.

This could be more, this could be permanent, this could be forever.

It would be more than just a picture perfect moment. It could be such a picture perfect life.

He had been there for it all, he wanted to see it through to the end.

He didn’t want to miss a moment.

He didn’t want to miss his moment.

Bradley hadn’t been entirely sure how he was going to answer when he started speaking, but he knew what he wanted.

With the two of you, he could have it all.

And he’ll never forget the way air had left his lungs and his stomach dropped when you called him Uncle Rooster.

He already knows the what-ifs and if-onlys will be the newest companions to the list of things that keep him up at night.

The sound of the crashing waves was drown out by the ringing in his ears, as his double scoop of vanilla ice cream melted around his fingers steadily dripping onto the cement sidewalk beneath his feet.

The sunlight hitting the two of you is no less golden than it was before as he scooped up your quickly fading daughter from the bench overlooking the beach that the three of you had been sharing, her little arms reaching up for him. The thrill of her fourth birthday and the sugar crash catching up with her after such a big day.

That ache in his hollow chest is soothed by the way she burrows her little face into his neck, her sticky fingers curling into the front of his shirt.

He still could be a dad. He still could be a husband.

Just maybe not hers. Just maybe not yours.

This moment with your daughter snuggled against him and you tucked under his free arm on the way back to the Bronco, was still picture perfect, but only if he didn’t look too close.

The two of you would always be his family, in one way or another, and he hopes he will always belong to yours.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to send @gretagerwigsmuse your therapy bill, this is her fault.

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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vase-of-lilies · 6 months

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His Sister's Keepers

Paring: Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x Little!Barnes!Reader (f) x Mama!Natasha Romanoff (Bucky Barnes x Sister!Reader - not romantic at all)

Warnings: Forced Age regression, this is a dark AU, Reader is in little space when she meets Bucky again — but goes back to adult space later in the fic, faking readers death, angry bucky, drugging (use of Rohypnol), long car ride, profanity, mentions of a suicide letter, and other warnings. Do not proceed if any of these matters upset you.

Request: How does Bucky react to his sister Tiny Reader being with Wanda and Nat all along? I love your fics 😭🩷 + Ok but like reader going back to finally see Bucky again dressed in an oversized hoodie with woodland creatures on it and space buns with ribbons in her hair oh and fuzzy socks 😍. Sorry I feel like a bean rn and this sounds so cute (girl literally no problem I love feeling like a smol bean 🥹)

A/N: Thank you for the kind words!! I am SUPER excited to post this one! I think this will be in order after all the drabbles, and then once Bucky finds out we can do more requests with Bucky included:) This was based off of the request, but I took more inspiration from this post!! I really hope you like this:) I also took some of the other requests regarding this story and put them in here:)

Bucky had a feeling you were still alive. You survived once, you would have to survive again. Wanda was good with tricks and visions, so she easily could have shown a hallucination in his brain when he saw your lifeless body on the cold ground in the Hydra base. And Natasha was good at cover-ups. She could easily cover up a death with a simple certificate and funeral since she has covered multiple aliases during her career. She did it for Fury, she could do it for you.

She did take it as far as holding a funeral for you. With Wanda’s magical craft, she made a near-perfect model of your sleeping body to put in the casket. With your [length, color, texture] hair perfectly done, a small dash of makeup on your cheeks, and lastly a beautiful dress to lay you in. But it wasn’t you. Bucky knew it wasn’t you. Your hair was just slightly less [hair color] than it usually was, your nose was just a millimeter off, and your top lip was slightly smaller than before.

One might think that it would just be the “dying process,” and everything on a dead body looks deflated or off. However, your older brother has known you for one hundred and seven (107) years and the Y/n in the casket was not the same Y/n he knew all his life. The body he was looking down at looked uncanny. Trying to be human, but failing so miserably.

Bucky’s room was filled with pictures of you and him from when you were younger, all the way to when you both became Avengers. Your smile was what kept him going every day you were gone. Six (6) months, four (4) days, fourteen (14) hours, and twenty-six (26) minutes. All this time he had been looking for you, trying to find any sign of life outside the compound for you.

Bucky was suspicious of Wanda and Natasha since they both had their eyes on you. He knew they wanted to court you, but he would not let them. He knew what Natasha had done, what Wanda had the power to do, and what your sweet and innocent brain would accept as love. Even dangerous love was acceptable love for you, you didn’t mind just as long as you were cared for.

Of course, you were more than cared for with Wanda and Natasha. You were fed, clothed, kept warm, and loved. But in such a wrong way. They turned you into a child reliant on only them. They had no intentions of hurting you when you were in your little or tiny space, only implementing discipline as if for a child. Nothing was permanent, but everything was different when you were in your adult headspace.

On one rainy morning, you woke up in your bigger headspace. No tears, whining, or whimpering were heard from you. You got out of your teddy bear-themed bed and opened your closet to find something comfy that wasn’t bright pink or covered in bunnies or ladybugs and finished getting dressed in the bathroom. You got ready on your own, but since you knew you were not going anywhere, you did not make yourself look “presentable.”

Wanda and Natasha were still asleep when you woke up, so you went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Turning on the radio to a quiet classical music station, you began cooking pancakes, bacon, eggs, and some muffins for lunch. The whole process took no more than two (2) hours, and you even got a second outside on the patio before you decided to wake up your keepers.

Putting two plates filled with food, two cups of orange juice, and a vase of flowers all onto a tray, you walk down the dimly lit hallway to the women's door. Knowing there were only some rules you had to follow when you weren’t in little space, you didn’t knock and just went right in.

The sight you stumbled upon was oddly…sweet. The two women who kidnapped you six (6) months ago, were asleep in each other's arms. Wanda's head lay on Natasha's bare chest, her arm across her belly. Nat’s left arm was around Wanda’s body, and her right hand resting on her shoulder softly. You sigh, not wanting to wake them up just yet knowing that they need rest.

But Natasha could feel your presence. She knew you were awake the moment your eyes opened. Gently, she lays her wife to the side and tucks her back in, looking over at you with a smile. “Good morning, малышка (little one). What do you have there?” She says in a soft voice, her long red-faded-to-white hair brushing over her shoulders.

“Breakfast,” It took a long time for you to become verbal with them after the initial few weeks with them, but you understood what they were willing to do to you to get you to use your words.

“Come here, love, let’s see what you have,” She says with a smile, sitting up against her pillows and wrapping another blanket around her back and shoulders. You approach the bed, the tray only slightly shaking as you get closer.

“I hope pancakes are ok…” You whisper, not wanting to disappoint her.

“Oh little one, this looks delicious. Thank you,” Natasha takes the tray from your hands and sets it in front of her on the bed. Wanda begins to stir at the soft voices around her and she yawns as her eyes open. Her lips pull into a smile as she sees you and you can’t help but return her smile.

“Sweetheart, did you make us breakfast?” Wanda asks, her voice soft yet raspy from just waking up. You nod at her question, scooting onto the end of the bed. Usually, you would be asleep next to them, but you fell asleep the night before in your little space. Tonight you knew would be different though.

As they ate, you allowed them to feed you some of their breakfast too. You told them you had eaten already, and you had, they just wanted to make sure you had enough. They really did love you, and care for you, it was Bucky who was in the way at the compound. He was a protective brother, and you loved that about him.

As the morning went on, Wanda and Natasha helped you with dishes from breakfast, held you as you watched a movie together, and finally in the early afternoon, they had you sit down at the kitchen table to talk to you about something. Your thoughts were frantic as you didn’t know what this conversation was about. Did I do something wrong? Did I not clean the bathroom? Did I say something? Did I not kiss them good morning? (You had) You were calmed by Wanda putting a gentle hand on your thigh from under the table.

“Y/n, you did nothing wrong. Ok?” God damned mind readers… “Watch your language…” She squeezed your thigh a bit tighter and you sheepishly looked at her.

“S-sorry,” You whisper, not wanting to cause any more trouble. But you weren’t in any, as a matter of fact, this talk was going to be filled with good news!

Natasha started the conversation; “You have been here quite a while, and in that time you have voiced how much you miss your brother. I know it, Wanda knows it, Tony knows it, even Bruce knows it. We all know it. So, I think it’s time we let you see him again.”

A flood of emotions filled your system, from the relief of being able to see your brother again, to anger that the two women and many people at the compound kept him from you in the first place. All the way to the sadness of seeing his reaction to what Wanda and Nat turned you into.

You stared at the wooden table in front of you, tears threatening to spill from your widely opened eyes. “How long have I been here?” Your voice quivers, and your head raises to look at the women before you.

“That’s not relevant, lov-” You are quick to cut Natasha off.

“How long have I been here, Natasha?” You repeat your question, your bouncing knee under the table picking up speed. You needed to know how long you have been away from your family, your only family.

Wanda looks at her wife across the table and nods. “About six (6) months.”

You let out a small sigh, and you lean back in your chair, shoving your hands into the pocket of your white sweatshirt. Slowly, you stand from the table but you don’t walk away just yet.

“What does Bucky think happened to me?” You ask, the question aching in the back of your mind since you first got here, and why there hadn’t been anyone looking for you.

Natasha has a blank look on her face, but Wanda has a look flooded with shame and guilt. She knew what she did was wrong, but she loved you all the same.

“He thinks you are dead.” Natasha answers your question after a couple seconds of silence.

A breathy laugh exits your mouth, your hand moving towards your forehead in disbelief. “I- I can’t believe-”

“Baby, can you come sit down?” You listen to Wanda's instructions, moving to sit back at the table with your caregivers.

Tears roll down your cheeks, your voice wavering as you speak, “When do I get to see him?” Wanda smiles as you obey, her hand going to your arm to soothe you.

“We are packing today and leaving early in the morning to go back to the city. How does that sound?” She asks, trying to push you into your smaller head space so you are easier to control. She knows this tactic can work, and you do as well, but you are too uptight.

Excited was an understatement, but ecstatic was an overstatement. You didn’t know how you felt. All you knew was that you were going to see your brother again, but you didn’t know what version of yourself he would see first.

~~~~~~~

After talking with your mommies, they told you they had to work a little bit longer and then they would help you pack. But you didn’t allow them to help. You wanted to pack all of the clothes that kept you in your adult head space—well, you packed what clothes were closest to what an adult would wear with what clothes you had to work with.

It was mostly pink, frilly dresses, teddy bear-themed shirts and pants, and other toddler-ish clothes. Despite your hatred for these clothes, you absolutely loved one thing, your woodland creature-covered sweatshirt. It was a white-based hoodie with pine trees sprouting from the bottom rim. There were deer, bunnies, birds, foxes, and other creatures within the trees that circled the entire hoodie.

It was your favorite because you felt free when in it. You felt like you could turn into a rabbit any day now and escape from Wanda and Natasha. But you knew better than to think of escape, especially in the hands of the Scarlet Witch and the Black Widow.

As you folded some black leggings, Natasha entered your room. “I thought we told you that we would help you, дорогая (sweetheart)?” She says, leaning against your doorway.

“You did. But I know what you would pack me, and I don’t want Bucky to see what you did to me.” You say defensively, the defiance and spark they loved about you showing.

“Y/n, don’t talk back to me. We took you in when you needed us, and Bucky was just in the way. I know you have been happy here despite everything. I can understand your anger, but you don’t get to take it out on us, do you understand?”

Her stern voice is enough to push you into submission. You sigh, “Yes, I understand,” You answer plainly and resume packing. “Can I bring Leo?” You ask, knowing deep down that your little self would never go anywhere without your toy lion.

The question makes Natasha smile and she nods. “Of course you can, sweetheart,” She says, walking further into your room. Your denim duffle back with pink, yellow, green, and blue flowers on the fabric sits fully on your bed and you let out a soft huff of pride as you smile at the bag. Ever since the two women took away your independence, you have felt very proud of yourself whenever you did something on your own.

“You did a great job, my little love bug, now why don’t we pack your to-do bag? It’s a bit of a long drive, back to Tony’s building.” Natasha reaches for the matching backpack and goes to your bookshelf to grab a few books, a notebook, two coloring books, your teddy bear pencil case, and some crayons. She sets your backpack next to your duffle and gently wraps her arm around you, pulling you into her side.

“Does this look like enough for you to do in the car?” Nat says.

“Mhm,” You hum your answer.

Nat gives you a soft squeeze, “Words, baby,”

“Yes, all of that looks very fun,” Natasha kisses your forehead as you answer, then zips up your bags to take them to the car. Once everything is packed, it is nearly seven thirty (7:30), and time for dinner.

Not once did you fall into your little space today, no matter how hard the two women tried. They knew that you were excited to see Bucky, but they also wanted a smooth car ride to the compound. Little space or not, you were going to be sleeping. The packing of the to-do bag was just a ploy. Of course, this was just a bag of things to do while you were at the compound.

Dinner was mostly silent. A few hums and thank you’s to fill the quiet. But one question was burning in the back of your brain.

“Project recapture didn’t follow through, and I am not going to see Bucky in a prison cell, right?”

Both Wanda and Natasha freeze, looking at one another. The mission failed when Steve backed down. He couldn’t do that to his best friend, not after what he went through when they took him out of the ice early. The fact that they left you and Steve in the ship too everyone that Hydra knew exactly who they were looking for.

Wanda shakes her head and puts her fork down on her plate. “Love, how did you know about the Project Recapture?” She turns to you and takes a sip of her wine.

“I didn't lie when I said I wasn’t looking at the files, but I did see one file about it after Tony left. I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t remember exactly what I saw until now.” You explain, practically telling yourself that you indeed did look at Natasha's files.

“Alrighty then, well to answer your question, no. The project failed thanks to Rogers’s doing. Your brother is safe, and he is not going back under Hydra control,” She pauses and gently takes hold of your hand. “Thank you for telling the truth about the files, sweet pea.” She smiles and gives your hand a small squeeze.

You return a false smile, taking in the fact that if Steve didn’t care about his best friend, Bucky would have been under Hydra's torture once again. You cringe at the thought of him in pain, wincing when you look back at the memory of him coming back from Wakanda with a new arm.

Dinner was finished silently, and once you all were done with your food, you cleared the table while Wanda and Natasha packed up. They each packed their clothes and necessities, while also bringing along some of their favorite toys to use on you when you were in your adult space. As per usual, the couple loved torturing you just like the day they brought you to the cabin.

Finally, the night came to an end. While Natasha read a book in bed, Wanda was in the kitchen making you some tea to ‘help’ you sleep. In your cup of [favorite tea flavor], she stirred in some Rohypnol to get you to sleep. She would give you another one in the morning so it would be a peaceful drive.

“Here love, I made you some tea,” Wanda says as she walks into your bedroom, smiling as she sees you in your teddy bear onesie pajamas. This of course wasn’t your first choice of pajamas, but it was something you would wear. In fact, it was something Bucky would get you for Christmas if you’re being honest.

You smile at her, still feeling love deep, deep down. You knew it was wrong to love your kidnapper, but you felt so safe in her arms and felt so loved when she kissed you. Same with Natasha. Although she may be a bit rough when it comes to making love to you, the way she held you afterward made up for a rough fucking.

As you pull back the blankets on your bed, you slip in next to Leo who is lying on your stacked pillows. He falls into your lap as you scoot back, and you look down at the plush toy. Even looking at it pushes you into a smaller headspace, but you fight it, wanting to stay big for Bucky.

“Little one? Can you drink some of this? It will calm you down. I know you’re nervous for tomorrow, but I promise you, once we get back to the compound everyone will be so happy to see you.” Wanda says, handing you the warm mug.

You sigh and take a sip of the [favorite tea flavor] flavored tea. The warmth in itself almost puts you to sleep, but as you drink more you start to feel the effects of the drug mixed inside. The feeling was very familiar— your eyes became heavy, your vision blurry, and your breaths were slightly shallow. A whimper was caught in your throat, and you looked at the blurred shadow of Wanda standing above you.

Gently, she takes the mug from your sluggish hands and puts it on your nightstand. While she is there, she presses the squishy duck night light on and moves to press a kiss to your head. She then carefully maneuvers you to a lying down position and fluffs your pillows to make you comfortable.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart. We’ll see you in the morning.” She smiles and kisses your lips softly. You whimper at the feeling of helplessness that comes with the drug, and you hate it when they don’t tell you that they are putting you to sleep. For good reason of course; you would beg them not to.

But this was the best solution to helping you stay asleep, and in the morning the same routine will follow.

~~~~~~~

Wanda and Natasha had set their alarms before the sun woke them up. They wanted to get you into the car, and on the road as quickly as possible. Once the car was packed, Wanda came back in and helped you change out of your pajamas into the clothes you picked for your car ride; Your woodland creatures hoodie, black joggers, fuzzy socks with bunnies on them, and your pink puffy coat just in case you get cold.

Still asleep, Wanda lays you between her legs while she does your hair. Parting your hair down the middle, she puts your [color, texture, length] hair into two buns on top of your head. Tying two pink satin ribbons around the buns, she kisses your head and picks you up. Your legs dangle over her arms and your head rolls against her chest as you lay sleeping in her arms.

With the car being heated up in the driveway, Wanda walks you outside opens the back door of their rusty, red explorer, and sits you down on the chair. She gently lifts your hoodie and puts Leo right against your belly, and she buckles you in. Your head falls against the seat belt, but Wanda is quick to grab a pillow to cradle your neck during the car ride.

Natasha stands behind Wanda, smiling as she sees how cute you look with your hair all done and your peaceful sleeping face. She sighs and kisses her wife’s neck as she wraps her arms around her waist.

“We’re doing the right thing letting her see him again. He might be angry, but let him. She’s alive and that is all that matters to him,” Nat whispers in Wanda's ear, her worries almost creating an aura of angry red light around her body.

Wanda nods and turns around in her wife’s arms. “I love you so much. Thank you for everything,” She whispers, her lips connecting to Natashas in a loving kiss.

“Let’s get going,” Nat says, squeezing Wanda gently and opening the passenger side door. As Wanda gets in, she shuts the door as Nat goes to lock up, and smiles once she is back in the driver's seat.

The long journey back to New York City has begun, and the wrath of Bucky is only getting closer.

~~~~~~~

Bucky’s POV

When I heard that Wanda and Natasha were coming back to the compound, I was more than angry. I was furious, ballistic, eradic, some might say. They had no place coming back here. However, if they came back with Y/n, all my questions would be answered and I would kill them both when I got the chance.

The morning of Y/n’s funeral, the company around me was off. There was a feeling surrounding the musty room that just felt… secretive. Like the people within the room knew something I didn’t. That was when I decided to do my research. I looked into every single one of the Avengers.

Tony was my first suspect; he has multiple houses in different countries, can cover up anything he wants to with money, and has plenty of people to work for him. Two of his maids from his mansion in California answered my questions, and I believed them. They genuinely looked frightened and wanted to help me find my sister. But I kept Tony in the back of my mind.

Despite how guilty it made me feel, I investigated Steve. My best friend. He lived a modest lifestyle in an apartment in Brooklyn and that was all the housing information I knew of and could find. He kept to himself and was looking out for me. He was concerned at my desperation to find Y/n when he had already accepted her death, but I continued despite his concern. But when I found out about Project Recapture, I didn’t even bat an eye. Hydra would never get me again, and I knew Steve would follow through with his promise of keeping Hydra away from me.

That mission to the old hydra base went smoothly, but Tony seemed awfully angry at Steve and pulled him aside after the mission de-briefing.

Now my eyes were on Bruce, Wanda, and Natasha. Ever since Y/n “died,” they have barely been present during missions. Only when we really needed them. Natasha was here more than Wanda, and that scared me. Where was the witch and why was she never on missions with us?

That was when I went on a deep dive into their finances. Near the death of Y/n, they had purchased a small cabin in the Beacon Mountains. They are married, but they live in the compound due to their job. I also noticed that the week before the purchase, there was a large transaction between their account and Clint Barton's account. A whopping 2.4 million dollars. What on earth did they need that money for?

The next few transactions answered my questions perfectly; For $4,300 they bought a Stark home security system. Obviously, they got a discount for knowing Tony because those originally went for $7,600. The next few items on the list were items that a child would use. Pacifiers, bottles, sippy cups, and other childish toys and accessories. Natasha can’t have children, and Wanda has admitted she never wanted children.

The money that was spent at Stark Industries was overwhelming. There were countless security items such as locks, keys, alarms, cameras, and other equipment that the couple really didn’t need if they were just living in a cabin for a while.

But one thing caught my eye.

Transaction 62938: “Sleeping drug - For the little one” Paid by Bruce Banner on 02/19/23

Who needed a sleeping drug? “The little one?” That made no sense.

Unless Y/n never fucking died, and they have her in that cabin.

Everything was making sense now, but I still needed proof that she was alive. I needed to know that she was breathing, eating, sleeping, living. But the security cameras were locked, and no amount of hacking let me in. I was devastated.

And when Natasha texted the team group chat, it almost seemed like a celebration that they were coming back to the compound. But it was just another fucking Tuesday. With them, it was always a fucking celebration when they entered. God, I hate them so fucking much. And if they have my little sister, I swear, I'm going to kill them and make it painful.

As I lean back in my desk chair, I take a breath as I finalize two fake suicide letters for the two people I despise the most. And as if on cue, I hear JARVIS announce the welcoming home of the two bitches themselves.

“Mr. Barnes, there is someone who would like to see you…” The AI says to me. I hum and I wave him off, knowing damn well I don’t want to see Wanda or Natasha.

“Mr. Barnes, I think you would like to see her.” He says, and I let out a huff as I stand up from my desk.

“Yeah, yeah, ok, but if it’s not Y/n, I’m telling Tony to unplug you.” I replied, and all I was met with was silence. I sigh and I open my door, walking down the hallway and going to the living room where the elevator is found. It is our apartment's “front door” and is locked unless someone is buzzed in.

I look around the room and I freeze. My breath hitches in my throat and my heart drops to my stomach. There she sat, smooshed in between Wanda and Natasha with her hair all done, a childish-looking sweatshirt on, and fuzzy socks to match.

I stuttered out her name, “Y-y/n?” I slowly walked closer to the three women, and I knew it was her the second she looked up.

“Das me!” She said, but it wasn’t in a normal voice. She spoke like a toddler.

I look at the two women beside her, imaginary daggers stabbing them over and over again. I just knew that they had her, but what the fuck did they do to her? As I got closer, the wheels in Y/n’s head were turning, trying to recognize me. And as I knelt down in front of her, it finally clicked in her brain.

“Bonky?” She whispers, clutching a plush lion in her hands. I nod with a small smile, confused beyond belief as I take in this new version of my sister.

“Oh god… what did you do to her? You monsters…” I say to Wanda and Natasha, who sit silently, watching the interaction between me and Y/n.

“Bonky, s’me!” Y/n’s head tilts, trying to justify that she is still my sister. She has to be in there somewhere. I glare as I see Wanda's hand rub her arm up and down soothingly, a part of me wishing I never let my eyes off of her on that god-forsaken mission.

“Love bug, why don’t you go show uncle Tony your lion while we talk to your brother?” Natasha says, Y/n turning her head to the woman. She nods and stands up from the couch, skipping over to Tony who nods his head at me and guides Y/n to the other room.

“Before you say another god damned word, I will never forgive you. Never. You don’t get any more fucking chances, do you understand?” I say in a low voice, standing up with balled fists.

Wanda is the first to nod her head, Natasha putting her hands up in surrender. I roll my eyes at the gestures, letting out a scoff as I turn around.

“She missed you, you know?” A voice sounds from behind me. “It took days to calm her down, but she missed you. And now you have her.”

I slowly turn around, the two women now standing as well. “You told me she was dead, had a funeral, convinced Steve to undergo Project Recapture, paid off Stark and Banner, kept her locked in a cabin for the past six (6) months, and you expect me to be happy when you say that she missed me?? Please! You both are crazy mother fuckers, and I will never, EVER forgive you for what you did to my sister!” I shouted.

The two women sighed, and I made my way to where Y/n was now. She has the brain of a toddler at the moment, so I have to treat her as such. I never thought I had to do this again, but here I go.

As I knock on the door, I see Tony sitting on the ground coloring with Little Y/n, or Tiny, as everyone calls her. The look I give Tony would put him six (6) feet (or 2 meters for you non-Americans) underground. He gave Y/n a pat on the head and left.

“Be gentle with her, Barnes. She’s not the same as she was before she left.”

I scoff. “Taken. Before she was taken, and held captive.” I corrected him. He shook his head and left the room, leaving me alone with my sister.

“Hey, Y/n…” I start softly, kneeling down next to her as she lays on her belly, coloring a picture of some deer in a forest. “What are you doin’? Hm?” I get in the same position as her, and I grab a crayon from her bag. “Mind if I join ya?”

She hums, nodding her head as I lay next to her, coloring away and not batting an eye. They really did ruin her…

“You’s can colow (color) dis guy!” She says, her words exiting her mouth with a speech impediment. She points to an owl on the left page, up at the top perched in a tree.

“Alrighty,” I say with a small smile, trying my hardest not to scare her in this state of mind. I had to be mindful, as I knew exactly what it felt like to be in another state of mind in the body I had. I was a killer in the body of a good soldier, a hero some might say. But Y/n? She was a four (4) year old inside of a twenty (20) [or your age] something-year-old body. What Wanda and Natasha did to her to get her there will haunt me, and I don’t think I ever want to know what they did.

~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

It was nice seeing Bucky, even in your little state you knew exactly who he was. You knew that he would never forgive Wanda and Natasha for what they did to you, but from the time you have spent with them and the times they saved you from Agatha, you learned to forgive them. They told you their circumstances and desires, and you felt so guilty when Bucky tried to keep you away from them.

Maybe taking you was a lesson for Bucky. Maybe it was their way of saying that I wasn’t a little girl anymore and that I could make decisions for myself. That was obviously never their intention to let you choose for yourself.

It was just past three o’clock (3:00), and you had just started to wake up from your nap. Wanda was next to you, holding you in her arms, and Bucky was at the end of the bed watching you both like a hawk. He had a mission, and that mission was to protect you all over again. Wanda of course was not a fan of this, but she let him do what he needed to feel like he was in control.

When you began to wake up, you nuzzled your face deeper into Wanda's neck, humming softly as you got comfortable yet again. You were in your adult head space again, and Wanda could tell the shift happened in the middle of your nap when you let go of Leo.

“Sweetheart? It’s time for lunch, are you hungry?” Wanda whispers, your eyes opening and your tummy rumbling. She chuckles as she hears your tummy, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You sit up, yawning and rubbing your eyes. Once you meet Bucky’s gaze, your face tells him everything. “Please don’t be mad at me. I had no choice. I will tell you everything.” He nodded at you softly and you scooted off the bed.

As you approach your brother, he stands up and immediately wraps his arms around you. “I missed you, pipsqueak, so much,” He whispers into your [color, length, texture] hair. His body shook as he cried, he never wanted to let you go. Tears filled your eyes as you returned the hug, missing the comfort that your brother gave you in times of stress.

“I missed you too, Buck,” You whisper into his shirt. Wanda and Natasha left the room, leaving you and Bucky once again. “You know I have to go back with them… don’t you?” You pulled away and looked up at him, your eyes puffy with fresh tears.

“No, no I am never letting you go again, you are not allowed to be out of my sight, do you understand?” He says, his hands on your shoulders squeezing just a bit tighter.

“I wish I could, b-but you have to understand something too… I love them, Bucky. A-and they love me too. I will never be the same after what they did to me, but I can at least be with people who know how to take care of me when my brain goes… you know, back.” You pause, looking up at him again. “I forgave them when they told me they loved me outside of the space they forced me into. They don’t love the little me, they love me. And I- I just- just please understand.”

Salty drops of tears roll down your cheeks, soaking into your white hoodie. Bucky’s heart broke, shattering into a million pieces as he heard your explanation. He pulls away from you and moves to sit on the bed, you follow and sit next to him.

“I am so sorry, from the beginning I didn’t know they were going to do any of this, and it all happened so fast. They found my journal, and they used it against me. I was in love with them first, but I didn’t want to disappoint you so I kept it to myself. That was in the past,” You let out a sad sigh. “I love them, Bucky. I love them and they love me.”

Bucky was dumbfounded. He loved you with all of his heart, mind, and soul. But he also understood your pain. He went through a lot in his time kept at Hydra, and he understood the caring aspect of a dire situation. A nurse had kept him company, but the guards killed her before she got a chance to get closer to him. But that nurse worked for Hydra willingly and kept him there. She was not there against her will but with the full intent of working for RedSkull and his army.

“Ok.” That was all Bucky could say. He didn’t want to alter your choices or thoughts, he only wanted you to be ok. “Do you promise to visit me, and you can leave on your own now? They don’t have to be everywhere with you?”

You shake your head, “They don’t have to be right next to me, they just need to know where I am. And of course I’ll visit you. I know they didn’t buy a new apartment just to spend money,” It takes a second for him to process what you said.

“Apartment? Wait, are you coming back to New York for good?” He asks, and a bright smile appears on his face. Once again, he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “I want to burn that god damned cabin…” He whispers, making you sigh.

He is right to want to burn it. You wanted to burn it the second they locked you in there. The wishes of them letting you go were said to them, begged to them, screamed at them. But still, they kept you in that cabin, deep in the woods, never to be seen until your captors allowed it.

“You don’t have to forgive them, Buck. But please tolerate them? They are kind and loving when you get to know them. Truly,” A hint of yearning is hidden in your voice, and Bucky can hear the desperation. So, he nods. He agrees to let Wanda and Natasha take care of you and love you.

“Ok… but on one condition.” He says, pulling away to face you. You tilt your head, silently telling him that you are listening. “I get to see you when ever I want to. Or, well at least need to. They don’t get to keep you hidden away anymore. I get to be your brother again, not the enemy.”

You nod immediately. “Yes, yes that works, they will be happy to have another babysitter around when the little part of me comes out. If I’m being honest…” You say, chuckling softly. “Im not going anywhere, Bucky. I promise you.”

From that day forward, Wanda and Natasha allowed you to see your brother when you wanted to and allowed him to come over to the cabin to help while you moved. ‘Tiny’ hadn’t come out in a while, as the move was stressing you out, but when all of the boxes from your nursery came to the new apartment, you finally felt comfortable falling into your thoughts once again.

You showed Bucky your mushroom tent that was set up in the corner of your room, you showed him Leo and your other stuffed animal friends, and he showed his love to you just the same. He said it was like having two little sisters. It was something he would get used to. Some day.

And as you sat in your mushroom tent, full of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals, Bucky joined you and read you a bedtime story. Your favorite one that he read to you back in the forties (40s). You were home again, and letting you see your brother was just the thing that made Wanda and Natasha sure of moving back. You were happier when you knew, that he knew, that you were safe and sound.

Bucky loved you, Natasha loved you, Wanda loved you. And you loved them.

You always would.

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #Wandanat x reader #into the tiny verse #The toy lion the scarlet witch and tiny in the wardrobe #wandanat x little reader #mommy wandanat x little reader #mommy wanda x little reader #mommy natasha x little!reader #Wanda Maximoff #Natasha romanoff

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happybird16 · 10 months

Text

drabble that suddenly had to come out of me no matter what

Aot finale spoilers, talks of scars and wounds, self-doubt

“Do they ever hurt?” you ask softly, meeting his soft silvery eye with yours.

Levi shrugs unevenly in response, replying vaguely, “Sometimes I get phantom pains. Like they’re still there.”

Gently clasping his hand between yours, you bring his fingers to your lips, tenderly kissing all the little calluses and even the smooth, flawless skin at the tip of each of his fingers. You appreciate every little white knick of a healed scar, savoring the unique texture and history they hold. His nails are perfectly trimmed, and the long digits are almost bony, with knuckles jutting out from his skin and veins visible in trailing blue lines along his palm, resembling twisting rivers.

One by one, you kiss each and every finger until you reach the uneven stubs where his index and pointer fingers used to be. The area is still flushed a dark, upsetting red that makes your chest ache. Despite the passing years, the skin remains rough and sore-looking. Carefully, you lean forward, eyes locked to his. You hear his breath hitch as you oh-so-carefully press the softest of kisses to the stub of his index finger.

“D-don’t,” he breathes, shifting slightly in his seat in embarrassment. Something lingers in the soft grey-blue of his eye, something like embarrassment and shame. “They’re ugly.”

“They’re not,” you tell him, pressing another kiss to his shorn digit. “You’re beautiful, remember? No matter what.”

Levi takes a long, shuddered breath, his shoulders heaving with the strength of his sigh. It’s almost like he deflates a bit, the metal of his wheelchair creaking loudly as his feet shift. His face twists, the large now-mostly-white scar standing out against the pale skin of his cheek. His deadened eye can still move, instinctively tilting up to match the other as his eyes meet yours. “’m not,” he mutters quietly, hissing in pain as he shifts his injured knee. “I- I’m so weak now,” he confesses, his voice laced with frustration and pain.

It’s something he’s complained about quite a few times since the end of the final battle. Not only did he sustain injuries, but the end of Ymir’s curse had also extinguished the Ackerman strength flowing through his veins. He has mentioned feeling empty and hollow, almost fragile in comparison. His slower healing is evident from the still reddened skin of his mangled fingers.

Rising up from your knees, you press a quick kiss to the scar along his cheek. “We’re free now,” you assure him earnestly. “It’s a whole new world. We’re not soldiers anymore, and you don’t have to bear the burden of being the strongest. You have already proven your worth countless times.”

As you speak, your fingertips gently brush back the length of his bangs, exposing his forehead. With utmost care, you place another soft kiss right between his eyebrows, dissolving the tension held there. Then another. And another. Each kiss conveys a message of love and acceptance, a reminder that his worth extends far beyond physical strength.

Levi’s breath hitches again, this time from a mixture of relief and vulnerability. The sound is a bit wet, and there’s a telling moisture welling in the corners of his eyes. He struggles to find the words to respond, mouth opening and closing several times as his shoulders stiffen once again. His eyes, one vibrant and the other dulled by past wounds, seek yours, their depths reflecting the emotions he struggles to express.

“‘m not,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a mix of pain and self-doubt. The fingers of his free hand instinctively reach for his injured knee, a reflex born from habit and discomfort. His voice sounds so small and hollow, “I- I’m broken.”

“No,” the word comes out sharper and louder than you intended, startling the both of you. “No. No you aren’t.” Your hand gently caresses his, providing a sense of comfort and reassurance. “Strength doesn’t define you,” you emphasize, your voice filled with conviction. “And your injuries don't either. I know you feel different now.. powerless.. but you possess a strength that transcends physical abilities. It’s in your resilience, your compassion, and the love you carry within you. That strength will always shine through, no matter what.”

A long, shuddered breath escapes Levi’s lips as he absorbs your words. His shoulders, burdened by the weight of his perceived weakness, begin to ease. The metal of his wheelchair creaks as his feet shift unsteadily. He swallows heavily, eyes falling from yours to stare at the fabric of the dark slacks covering his thigh.

Pinching his chin between your fingers, you urge his gaze to meet yours yet again. “We’re building a new life together,” you continue, a hint of playfulness entering your voice. “We’re not soldiers anymore. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders. Instead, let’s focus on chasing out those rude customers from our little tea shop. And if you ever say anything self-deprecating again, well, I’ll be there to shower you with kisses until you realize just how incredible you are.”

Levi’s lips curve into a small, vulnerable smile, the barriers of self-doubt slowly crumbling away. The moisture in his eyes finally spills over, tracing glistening paths down his cheeks. “You would,” he whispers softly, his voice filled with fondness and amusement.

#levi x reader #levi /reader #aot spoilers #does this count as fluff?#levi ackerman #x reader #postwar!levi #postwar!levixreader #tay's.drabbles

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drivelikeiido · 7 months

Note

25 with matty who’s very drunk or very high and he’s forgotten that the reader is already his gf so he’s trying to (really badly) flirt with her

a poor attempt at flirting (a drabble)

25: “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?”

matty healy x f! reader word count: 1.1k warnings: mentions of alcohol and weed consumption and poor writing due to many months off :/ notes: kay is back and attending to her inbox! thank you for this prompt my dear and ever so sorry it's taken me 6 months to complete it! anyways i'm not really a fan of this but it was sitting in my drafts and i wanna get back to posting so this is a start ! i promise the writing will get better from here on out mwah so accept this as a peace offering for now <3

You had awoken at 1:06am to a phone call from a very exasperated sounding Hann who had politely begged you to come and take your rather high boyfriend off of the boys’ hands as they couldn’t handle his intoxicated rambling much longer and they all know your patience for Matty far exceeds any of theirs.

This is how you’ve landed in some random party in the city filled with musicians and producers and many other peoples’ faces you half recognise while trying to collect your boyfriend. Thankfully all the boys are easily spotted due to their height (and Ross’ unmistakable mane of hair, which he thankfully lets go wild when he’s drunk). George unabashedly hollers over to you when he sees you, raising his ring-clad hands and waving you over, his smile lopsided and his eyes betraying his lack of sobriety as you make your way over to them. He says nothing but points a painted nail to a mop of curls resting on the table, head leaning on his hand while the other nurses a glass of some dark and clearly long forgotten liquid, his face hidden by the length of deep brown ringlets that fall from the top of his head. You’d recognise your boyfriend anywhere but his hair and it’s current messy state you could clock him from miles away, the stray curls resemblant of his unkempt morning bedhead that you love so much. Your heart momentarily warms at the sight until you remember the reason you’re there. You slowly make your way to sit at the table next to him, your movements slow and your eyes never leaving his form.

Once you’re seated you reach your hand slowly out to his, ghosting your fingers over his tattooed arm in an attempt to grab your boyfriend’s attention. He begrudgingly lifts his head up from where it was rested and you can barely just make out his dark hooded eyes from behind the loose curls that fall in front of his face, reaching down and tickling his nose. He releases the drink from his other hand and pushes the unruly strands backwards onto his head, remaining silent and blinking at you multiple times before he speaks.

“You’re really pretty”. His voice is light and airy and even if you didn't know him as well as you did you’d still be able to sense his inebriated state, however the smell of weed and alcohol makes it overtly clear.

This causes you to laugh, “Thank you. So are you Matty.” you utter with a grin, gaining a surprised intake of breath from the singer, a rush of colour taking to his already flushed cheeks.

His surprise continues as he lets out a whispered “You know me? What the hell”, his dark eyes now wide with wonder. You ignore the chorus of laughs in the background that you can only assume comes from the rest of the band at their frontman’s embarrassing display of forgetfulness. Being well acquainted with Matty’s intoxicated states you’ve experienced similar situations to this before, all of which have been incredibly entertaining.

Your giggle at his clueless response seems to spur his joy farther, his face breaking out into a lopsided smile. Your boyfriend is a pretty sight when he’s intoxicated, with his dark eyes and messy curls and the intoxicating scent of his expensive aftershave and the sweet weed smoke; if you didn't have to worry about getting him home you’d maybe indulge his flirting fantasy for just a little longer.

You grab onto his lithe fingers and move to slowly guide him up, “Let’s get you outside Darling”. His tiredness seems to have dissipated into excitement at this point as he quickly moves to follow you outside, letting out a hushed “Yes!” and doing what you can only imagine is some victorious movement of celebration out of your line of vision, encouraging even more laughs and hollers from the rest of the band, the phrase “What a twat” seeming to be a shared sentiment amongst the group as they laugh in agreement .

Thankfully, leading your rather drunk and high boyfriend outside is an easier feat than you expected; he eagerly holds onto your hand as you guide him and he too joins you in a large intake of the crisp night air once you make it outside. You stop and situate you both carefully against the wall in an attempt to gather yourself and your boyfriend. Matty however takes this as an opportunity to look up and down between you and the night sky and if you looked closely at him you’re sure you’d be able to see the moon’s ring of light reflecting perfectly in his chestnut eyes, giving them a further element of sparkle than what they normally have.

He soon surprises you as he takes both of your hands in earnest and holds them delicately between his infinitely larger, but cold fingers.

“Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” . The suddenness of this adorable (yet uncharacteristically cheesy) pickup line startles you, the innocence of his state and how he still compliments you works to warm your body against the harsh cold. You find it funny how a man who normally displays such an astounding example of romanticism is reduced to something so simple in this state.

You simply shake your head in amusement and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Come on, Healy let’s get you home”. To this he grows juvenile and argues “No. I want to stay here and stare at you longer”. As sweet as the sentiment is you realise you’re going to have to play into his delusions even more, only a little bit offended that your boyfriend still seems to have forgotten you but you make sure to keep it in your arsenal to tease him with in the morning.

Your only attempt at reasoning with him works as you gradually win him over by offering to let him stare at you as long as he wants in the car and when you do eventually get home. Although this works on the stubborn man he still puts up some of a fight as he lowers his head and mumbles “You’re too pretty to be bossy” and although you can’t see it you’re sure a cartoon-like frown make its way across his features as he says this. You ignore him and slowly lead him into the passenger seat of the car, buckling him in despite his insistence he can do it - he’s passenger princess this evening and you’re making the most of it. After reaching the second set of traffic lights you realise that his plans to overtly stare at you are unfulfilled as he had at some point fallen asleep, his heavy head resting haphazardly against the window. You simply smile and lower the radio, already planning just how you’re going to torment him with tonight’s events in the morning.

#it's done!#another fic only like half a year later!#sorry again besties #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy #the 1975 x reader #the 1975 fic #i haven't missed putting all these tags in jesus #k!'s fics

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aemonds-fire · 22 days

Text

This is Lyn. Nearly all of my writing contains explicit content. Minors, please do not interact. Everyone, please mind the tags for each fic. Another thing, all of my characters are of age, even if I do not expressly state it in the fic.

Thank you to everyone who supported my writing. I really appreciated it. Right now, I don't think I'll be writing anymore.

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Lyrics from Abstract [Psychopomp] by Hozier Unreal Unearth

A drabble for @arcielee and her ☆ arcie's 1k challenge!!

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negans-lucille-tblr · 9 months

Text

Until Sunrise | Geralt of Rivia Drabble

Summary: Geralt doesn’t plan on leaving until sunrise.

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Pairing: Geralt x Reader (Y/N)

Tags: smut, prostitution, bathing, Geralt’s thick thighs, mentions of blood, thigh riding, p in v, sex, unprotected sex, orgasms

WC: ± 1K

A/Ns: Not new to smut, but new to Geralt so go easy 🥴🤣 Hope you enjoy my obligatory bathing Geralt turned smut offering to be accepted into The Witcher fanfic world ❤️

The Witcher Masterlist || Support my Writing Here

“Please, sir, allow me.”

Geralt scoffs to himself under his breath, but loud enough that she can hear it. He’s clearly amused by the very title she’s thrown his way. She knows she’s probably a little more coy than the other whores he’s used to, but that’s exactly how she likes to play it.

“Do you know what I am?” he asks her, obviously still bemused as a smirk plays on his tempting mouth.

“Of course,” she agrees, unable to stop the playful smirk from curling across her own full lips as she replies. “But you’re still going to pay me handsomely, are you not?” she adds, a playful glint in her eye as she wades through the water towards the witcher.

She’s unable to take her eyes off of his broad, thick body, the way the blood soaks into his skin, the way the water ripples and laps against the tight muscles underneath, the slight curl in his pale blond hair as the steam of the bath dampens it. Y/N isn’t sure she’s ever seen a more perfect specimen before. If she thought she was pleased to have been selected by The Witcher when he entered the brothel earlier this evening, she’s even more pleased now she’s alone with him, naked and soaking in a warm bath together.

Geralt’s eyes seem more golden in this lighting as she gets closer, and he brings his longs arms out to stretch them along the back of the bath, the muscles in his shoulders only bulging thicker, water evaporating from his skin before it has the chance to drip across the broad span of his biceps.

Y/N reaches for a rag, wetting it in the hot water before bringing it to the witcher’s skin, dabbing at the dried blood staining it, careful to get every drop. A low hum vibrates through his throat and straight through Y/N’s core as he closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath, relaxing into her touch with ease.

“Is it true what they say about you?” Y/N dares to ask, rewetting the cloth to bring it further across his shoulders, her fingers wrapping around his thick arm, digging into the impressive muscle as her thighs instinctively rub together under the guise created by the water.

“What do they say?” he asks, his voice low and rumbling in his chest as he speaks, only serving to make Y/N even more desperate to feel him; taste him.

“That your impressive stamina doesn’t end with fighting,” she smirks, watching as he slowly opens his eyes to look at her.

He scoffs, staring directly into her eyes for a moment or two, and Y/N begins to wonder if she’s said the wrong thing and overstepped her line. But then a smirk grows wider on his lips.

“Well I don’t plan on leaving here until sunrise,” he informs her matter-of-factly, before reaching for her wrist and pulling her closer, catching her before she can slip deeper into the water.

He pulls her into his lap, her legs straddling his thick thighs, having to spread pretty far apart just to accommodate him, but she groans all the same, feeling his hands push into her hair, his large arms trapping her tight against his body. She can feel how hard he already is between her legs, trapped between her pelvic bone and his own. She reaches under the water, her hand seeking him out, her fingers wrapping around his length as she moans louder, realising they don’t even touch thanks to the girth.

“You just keep on impressing me,” she quips, but Geralt only growls in response, tugging on her hair harder, pulling a whimper from her lips as she bucks her hips against him, her aching pussy dragging back and forth along his hard, muscular thigh.

Another primal grunt escapes The Witcher as he lifts Y/N with ease, and when he drops her, it’s onto his cock as it sinks deep inside her, stretching her open with a burning pain she welcomes. Y/N moans, throwing her head back, her hair soaking in the hot water, her breasts pushing into his face as the stubble that adorns his chin scratches against her delicate skin. Geralt places chaste kisses to her chest, his teeth scraping over her hardened nipples, his fingertips digging into the flesh on her back as he instantly begins to fuck up into her.

Y/N takes the brutality; welcomes it even. She’s never felt a pleasure like it, she’s never been fucked so thoroughly in such a short space of time before. Her orgasm is already building deep in her core, climbing higher and higher as her fingernails bite deeper and deeper into the witcher’s chest.

“C’mon,” he encourages, pulling her down to send himself what feels like impossibly deeper, his cock throbbing inside her as she finally comes undone around him, her pussy clenching rhythmically as her orgasm ripples through every fibre of her body in a constant wave of ecstasy. “That’s it,” he hums, Y/N’s head flopping forward as she slowly begins her descent from the high of her climax back to the very bath they’re in.

“Who needs stamina when you fuck like that?” she jokes, breathlessly.

Geralt doesn’t reply, he just stands, lifting her in his arms with such ease that it only makes Y/N feel even more powerless. He’s still inside her, throbbing and filling her like she was made just for him. He carries her over to the bed, throwing her down onto it, and Y/N can’t help but stare up at him, even more in awe now she can see him in his impressive entirety.

“I’ve already told you, I’m not leaving until sunrise,” he growls, grabbing her ankles to pull her closer to the end of the bed. “And I plan to get my money’s worth.”

Liked this fic? Want to see more Geralt fics? Please consider leaving me feedback by replying or reblogging :) Feedback is fuel!

#until sunrise #geralt x reader #geralt smut #geralt of rivia #the witcher fanfic #smut #drabble #negans-lucille-tblr #lemon

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shuririweek · 4 months

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SHURIRI WEEK 2024 MASTERPOST!

* DO NOT SHARE OFF SITE WITHOUT CREDIT *

⇩ READ BELOW ⇩

THEME DAYS/SCHEDULE:

DAY 1 - FLUFF

DAY 2 - ANGST

DAY 3 - "SHURIBBLE" DAY*

DAY 4 - HURT/COMFORT

DAY 5 - CANON COMPLIANT*

DAY 6 - SONG FIC/YOUR CHOICE*

DAY 7 - ALTERNATE UNIVERSE (AU)*

****Please note:

“SHURIBBLE”: A DRABBLE (TRAD. 100 WORDS) based on Shuriri. In this context, a written work between 100-500 words MAX. (Name credit to @mybonafidefeelings)

CANON COMPLIANT: One major aspect must be compliant to the MCU/COMIC canon - Aside from Shuriri as a pairing.

SONG FIC: A fanfiction that is based on a song(s). This can be/include the MESSAGE, LYRIC OR VIBE. Must include the SONG TITLE(S) in tags and author's note/description.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE: Your choice but at least one major aspect must differ from the MCU/COMIC canon - Aside from Shuriri as a pairing.

PROMPTS CHALLENGE! (optional):

Prompts are 100% optional. For an extra challenge, pick some to pair with the theme of the day. Prompts can be combined, reused, or avoided. If you choose to use any prompts, PLEASE NOTE THEM IN THE AUTHORS NOTE/DESCRIPTION *AND* TAGS. Please note that ALL NSFW/18+ content MUST be tagged as such to be reblogged/added to AO3 collection.

NSFW/18+:

CHOKING

EDGING

BREEDING KINK

DIRTY TALK/MOANING

SERVICE TOP *OR* BRATTY BOTTOM

MAKING LOVE

VIBRANIUM STRAP

SFW/SUGGESTIVE:

FIRST KISS

A RING

COOKING/SHOPPING TOGETHER

JEALOUSY

CONFESSION(S)

BREAK UP/MAKE UP

SLEEP TOGETHER

SITUATIONS:

FIRST MISSION TOGETHER/MISSION GONE WRONG

STUCK TOGETHER

FIRST ARGUMENT/BIG ARGUMENT

NEAR DEATH/DEATH

CAUGHT IN THE ACT

PANIC ATTACK/TRAUMA

FREE SPACE

WORDS:

TRUST

STRANGER

TATTOO/BEAUTY MARK/SCAR

ASTROLOGY/ZODIAC SIGNS

“DON’T GO”

SOULMATE

“FUCK YOU”

DEMON

“I GUESS”

MOTHER/FATHER

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ACCEPTED WORKS: Fanfiction, Fan Art, Mood Boards, Fan Mixes (playlists etc.), Memes, Meta, Fan Edits, Gif Sets, etc. WORKS IN PROGRESS/TEASERS/SNEAK PEAKS WILL ALSO BE ACCEPTED.

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DEADLINE: Content tagged under/mentioning #SHURIRIWEEK2024 and @shuririweek will be reblogged for up to 7 days AFTER FEBRUARY 3rd (ending Feb. 10 2024). After that, I ask that you wait for the next event to tag work with ShuririWeek. (There will be more events soon!)

SHURIRI MUST BE THE MAIN FOCUS: While other characters/OC's are more than welcome, the main characters/main pairing must be Shuri/Riri. This pairing can be romantic, platonic, sexual, enemies etc.

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NSFW/18+ CONTENT: NSFW/18+/MDNI/CW/TW: ALL NSFW/SMUT CONTENT MUST BE TAGGED AS SUCH. IT WILL NOT BE REBLOGGED IF IT’S NOT TAGGED AS #NSFW, #MDNI AND/OR #18+.

TAGS/TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS: INCLUDE APPROPRIATE TAGS FOR ALL POTENTIAL TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS. FOR ALL SUBJECT MATTER OR IT WILL NOT BE REBLOGGED/ADDED TO AO3 COLLECTION. I WILL ASK YOU TO REMOVE IT FROM THE TAG. PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS TO MAKE SURE THAT THIS EVENT IS ACCESSIBLE TO EVERYONE. (If you miss one that someone would like you to tag, please just edit the tags!)

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ZERO TOLERANCE: RACISM + ANTIBLACKNESS, HOMO/TRANSPHOBIA, MISOGYNY/MISOGYNOIR, COLORISM, TEXTURISM, SEXUAL/SUGGESTIVE BEHAVIOR BETWEEN MINORS, ETC. Don't ruin it for everyone by being a weirdo or a bigot.

Still have questions?

Check out the FAQ (Link)

DM the admin @blacksapphhicmaddonna

That's all!

I'm so excited for ShuririWeek 2024 and can't wait to see all the amazing works everyone creates!

For the next event, everyone will be voting for themes and prompts! Stay tuned and enjoy!

Thanks so much for participating! Much love x,

@blacksapphhicmaddonna / @shuririweek

@fandomweeks love your page, pls share when you get a chance💜💜💜💜

edit: sorry about the typo for "breeding kink". it's been changed in the original post text but reblogs may not show it. I haven't changed the graphic yet.

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crystcrm · 1 year

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i was scrolling through the tags, and i got inspired by this. . .

i still haven't finished the quest yet ( but i know what happens </3 sad. ) and i live for dilfs honestly. and to think this would be my first kinda proper-ish genshin smut? something with a dilfy guy from sumeru who had 1 whole quest line.

maybe i should write for npcs more, because mm.. some of the genshin npcs are so... ♡

huffman.. wagner... timaeus started to grow on me lately... and now, jebrael.

anyway, we're kicking this off with some nice things about jebrael and a sweet kind-of-househusband-but-not-really-househusband reader!

p.s this is more of a .. drabble than an actual fic woop

the desert's darling ;; jebrael x male reader

content ;- porn with some plot , nsfw , fluffy things , soft dom jebrael , sub reader , anal sex , size kink , breeding kink / creampie , missionary ( idk positions ) , pet names ( darling )

nsfw below the cut, minors dni.

there isn't much out in the desert, but you've made it quite inviting for travelers alike to come and rest with you. letting them rest off their fatigue in your abode in aaru village. you've met all sorts of people— some students who weren't used to the life there, adventurers who needed a place to stay, some traders from the forest and ciry beyond the walls.

you weren't exactly sent off to live there— but... you chose to.

it was a home unlike any other... even if it was too hot sometimes.

you'd provide sweet drinks, lovely food and a place to stay to any and all who needed it. it sure helped take a load off the village chief and candace— they're more than happy to have your help.

but, amongst the many patrons you'd get, there'd always be some regulars that would come on by... a certain eremite and his daughter. back when they first came by, you were quick to learn jebrael and his daughter, jeht would be common faces.

to say you were enamored was... accurate, but honestly, who wouldn't gawk and stare when there was such a fine man in their house almost every month? you honestly felt like you'd want this man in your house forever.

you'd do everything for them, not even letting them lift a finger. breakfast, lunch and dinner were always prepared everyday. laundry was done and dried, folded up for them once more to bring on their travels. if the journey was rough, who's to say your hands wouldn't work at the knots in his muscled body too?

all in all, jebrael could say you were a perfect host. in fact, it almost felt like he had a sweet wife again. or, husband he should say. archons, he felt like he wanted you more and more with each time he visited.

he wanted you so much.

when night fell upon the desert, he knocked on the room of your door. jeht was fast asleep, he was sure of it. but fortunately you were still awake. always a late sleeper, wanting to make sure your guests were always comfortable before dozing off yourself.

you had a smile on as you welcomed him into your room, one that could make his heart ache, honestly. one that made him want to feel those lips of yours. but he didn't mean to make it drop when he suddenly brought up something about payment.

payment? why would he ever have to pay you? you never wanted to take anything of his, nor would you ever accept it.

clearly he had a different idea on how to pay you.

it just clicked when he stopped calling you by name, only coming in closer, softly calling you " darling " with that huskiness in his voice.

and you crumbled and caved.

and that's how you ended up on his lap, lips pushed together in a fervent kiss. he was much bigger than you, he could handle you with ease. just the thought of it made you shudder, melting into his touch some more. and clearly it made him go mad as well, groaning against your lips as his hands began to roam your body.

you could feel his hardened length beneath that pesky piece of fabric, your own arousal clouding your mind. if he was big... surely down there would be too. you didn't have to leave it up to imagination for long though.

before long, he had you in his arms, laying down on your bed. his calloused hands that would always do tough work were surprisingly gentle with you, never rough at all. especially when he slowly fingered you open, wanting to spread you open just for him. his lips were against yours, muffling your moans as his fingers worked their magic within you. the lube definitely helped, but he had been going at it for what felt like forever— was he really that worried he wasn't going to fit...?

your head was blank when his fingers left you feeling empty, jebrael merely chuckling at your whine as he repositioned himself. you could feel his tip prodding at your entrance, pulling your legs around his waist as he looked down at you.

" darling, eyes on me, " he gently tilted your head up to look at him, a small open mouthed smile on your face as you saw him. archons, he was so handsome. you could take in his features every time, but it was so clear up close and personal like this. but the slow thrust in distracted you, a shaky moan escaping your lips.

your sounds were angelic. and your insides were heavenly— those are definitely the words he'd use to describe it.

" ..a-archons.. relax.. darling, shit.. " he was gritting his teeth, trying to distract you from the pain of his size in all the ways he thought of. sweet nothings, sloppy kisses, lustful touches. he had a hand gently wrap around your own length, stroking softly as he penetrated further and further in you. he had you feeling so many things at once and you haven't even cum yet.

jebrael was panting heavily once he bottomed out in you, looking down at where you two were connected, feeling how your warmth captured him. he just wanted to stay there for a moment and relish in it, his sweet praises raining down upon you as he rested his forehead against yours.

it wasn't long until you began begging for him— begging for more, begging for something. and you were already mewling and moaning when he slowly dragged his hips back, soft squeals forced out of you as he pushed himself back in. a slow and deep pace, a rhythm meant for feeling and taking each other in.

time went on and his pace seemed to stagger— surely his age wasn't an issue in the picture right now- but rather he was so close to the edge since earlier, it was really hard to last when you were so sexy, ravishing even. it felt more erratic, his girthy length stretching you out and reaching your deepest parts as he angled himself better— to feel every inch of you.

your loud whines and moans were muffled once again, his lips capturing yours for a final kiss as you felt your high wash over you. a warmth spilled over your stomach, a rushing pleasure running all over your body. it wasn't long until jebrael joined you in this high, sheathing himself in your deepest parts before filling you up even more with milky white.

he let himself stay longer, finding you having no qualms against it.

well, this was just the first repayment. he still had more to give back to you after months of being his sweet desert darling.

oops, i wrote a lot more than i intended to...

#crysts.corner #cryst.afterdark #cozy.cryst #thirsty.cryst #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact jebrael #jebrael x reader #jebrael x male reader #jebrael smut #dilfs.#i want to be his darling #genshin smut

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hyunholights · 2 years

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SKZ as the seven cardinal sins

content: smut, dni if under 18, dark themes, yandere themes, unprotected sex - proceed with caution; tw listed separately for each sin/member, but most are noncon - all of them are toxic in some way

idols: SKZ OT8 x afab reader

wordcount: 1350

a/n: this is my first post on this blog and i can't believe it's a dark & yandere drabble! i'd be happy to write longer fics for any of them if anyone wants me to and i'd be curious to hear your opinions on whether the members fit with each sin (some have been more of a struggle to place than others)!! smut under the cut

Pride - Chan (dubcon/noncon, rough oral m. receiving, dacryphilia)

You’re his trophy. He loves you on your knees, makeup and tears running down your face as you’re struggling to take him in your mouth, lips tightly wrapped around his length. The more you whimper and moan the better it feels for him when he relentlessly pushes down your throat.

He knows you want it. And who wouldn’t want to choke on Bang Chan’s cock?

Even when you said you weren’t in the mood for sex, he knew you were just playing coy, weren’t you? You’re playing hard to get so you can get him even more worked up. He’s sure you’re soaking wet already only from sucking his cock. So he shoves it in all at once, and your cries are music to his ears as he thrusts in you from behind, deep and hard, splitting you open on his cock. You love it, how couldn’t you? It’s him after all.

Greed - Hyunjin (noncon, noncon filming, drugging)

You’re so beautiful, splayed on his bed in that luxurious lingerie set he bought you. There’s no harm in this, right? It was just a bit of powder in your drink - you’ll wake up later none the wiser and he’ll get to capture these images for posterity.

And well, he’ll be sharing them on that onlyfans account he created that you know nothing about. There’s no harm in it, is there?

There’s nothing wrong with wanting a bit of extra cash. How did you think he’s able to afford all the vacations, the expensive clothes and perfumes he buys you? All he does is for you, but he knows you wouldn’t get it. No one gets it.

Your whimpers are soft when he slides in his lubed cock and you don’t move as he fucks into you, as he grabs and gropes at your breasts and hips, twisting your nipples beneath his fingers. He pulls out just as he’s about to cum, painting your tits and stomach. He would’ve finished inside, but that’d be a bitch to clean up. Plus, the pictures wouldn’t look as good.

Lust - Felix (cheating)

He’s sure you’d understand. She is gorgeous and so incredibly sexy, he has to have her. Not that you’re not gorgeous, don’t misunderstand, he’s never seen a more beautiful and perfect woman than you, but she’s just different. And it gets his dick so painfully hard, the way her touches feel foreign on his skin and how her perfume is one he never smelled before, and the way she says his name is so unlike you.

You can’t expect him to just look and not touch when she is just so needy and willing. He’s only a man.

So he sinks into her body torturously slowly, enjoying the way his cock spreads her walls and how wet her cunt is for him. His eyes are fixed on her face as she cums, back arching and toes bending in the throes of pleasure. He’s enthralled. But he knows he’ll forget about her tomorrow when he comes back home to you. He always does, he loves you after all.

Envy - Jeongin (noncon, virginity)

What does your boyfriend have that Jeongin doesn’t? He is perfect for you. He brings you flowers on your birthday and he walks you home from your nights out. He listens to you, takes care of you. And you still went and got together with that guy.

He is going to prove to you just how big of a mistake you made. Your boyfriend doesn’t deserve a girl as perfect as you are.

When he finally tells you how he feels, you invite him inside to sit down and talk. You tell him he should’ve known you can’t accept his confession, not now when you were in love with your boyfriend.

Left with no other choice, Jeongin decides that if he can’t have you, then he’ll ruin you for your boyfriend, you were still a virgin after all. You cry and struggle as he rips the clothes off of you, fingers shoved in your mouth to shut you up, body pinned under his weight. He preps you though, he doesn’t want it to be bad for you. One finger and then another, scissoring them as he feels your walls loosen - he’s a gentleman after all.

You’re just too stupid to understand, if you hadn’t rejected him, none of this would’ve happened.

Gluttony - Changbin (noncon, somno)

He can’t help it. He woke up with his cock throbbing and his fist just can’t do the job properly. He didn’t get a chance to talk to you about this yet, still he’s pretty confident you wouldn’t be opposed to it. You always tell him how much you love the way he fucks you.

Your gummy walls wrap around him in just the right way, no cocksleeve or hand could ever compare to the warmth of your inviting cunt.

He’s careful not to wake you as he takes off your underwear and positions himself, light touches and lube make sure there will be no pain. He slides in and you stir, but you’re still asleep. And you’re still sleeping by the time he fills you up with cum. But looking at your innocent expression as his seed leaks from your hole only serves to harden his cock once more. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on, having you helpless in his grasp, taking all he gives you without an ounce of protest.

His cock slips so much easier now and he can’t help picking up the pace, fucking you faster and faster as he chases his high. He opens his eyes and sees you, eyes wide staring back at him just as he fills you up with cum.

Wrath - Minho, Seungmin (dubcon, spit, breathplay/choking, scratching)

You are such a pain sometimes. You almost never listen to him and you always have a smartass remark to return to whatever he says. Why do you have to go and ruin your pretty face by opening your mouth?

Sometimes he thinks that you see it all as a game.

He yells and you spit in his face telling him he can’t talk that way to you. It only serves to anger him more, he can’t have you act that way.

So he pins you to the wall, fingers clasped around your throat as he opens your mouth and spits right back. Your eyes are still defiant, nails scratching every bit of skin you can reach, struggling to get out of his grasp. Why is his cock straining his pants? He curses as he reaches inside your panties with his free hand, rubbing your clit as your panting turns to moans and slick covers his fingers, your contempt momentarily forgotten. The grip on your throat tightens and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded as the waves of pleasure wash over your, dark eyes locked on your helpless ones.

Sloth - Jisung

He feels your hands trace his skin as you plant kisses on his jawline. You can be so needy and annoying sometimes. Can’t you see he’s trying to watch something? So he pushes you away, turns off his phone, and closes his eyes pretending to take a nap, anything to get you off his case for a few minutes.

That is until you give up and leave the room, door closing behind you with a thud. He’ll deal with that later.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to fuck you, you’re hot and you managed to turn him on even now. He loves you and enjoys your body, but it’s so much of a bother having to take care of you, making sure you cum before he does. Sometimes you even want to cuddle after.

Taking a peek at the bedroom door to make sure it’s closed, he turns his phone back on, volume low as he now watches a pretty girl bounce on a disembodied cock. His own dick twitches, hand fisted around it and pumping relentlessly until cum spills on his stomach. He wipes the mess on the inside of his pants and closes his eyes. Now he can take a nap in peace.

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shadowtriovibes · 1 year

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the polyjuice plot

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Word Count: 900

Rating: PG

Summary: just a quick little shadow trio drabble that addresses one of my favorite game conspiracies, which is that sebastian could tell when “professor black” was an imposter but ominis couldn’t 🤭

“Truly!” Ominis insists. “He stopped me in the middle of the hall and demanded where I was going, and then he started to go on about how one could mix dittany and bubotuber pus to create mustache paste, of all things.” You immediately go red, and Sebastian bursts into laughter. "Ominis, that wasn't Black, that was her!" he exclaims.

It’s common knowledge that you, Sebastian, and Ominis are a package deal.

Ever since the events of the boys’ fifth year (and your first), the three of you had practically been joined at the hip. Your peers have long since gotten used to seeing your little trio jammed onto one small couch in the Slytherin common room to study for your upcoming N.E.W.T.s or read your latest letter from Anne.

One evening toward the middle of term, you and Sebastian decide to curl up next to each other with Ominis sprawled across both your laps. The latter is content as could be while you quietly read your potions notes aloud to him and mindlessly play with his hair.

(He always makes you promise to put his hair back the way it was when you’re done running your fingers through it, but you know he enjoys the feeling too much to resist altogether.)

Sebastian, on the other hand, was working himself into a foul mood.

“Merlin, he’s awful,” he groans as he reads over Professor Black’s latest round of announcements that he’d snatched off the common room’s bulletin board. “Can you believe some of these policies? Who does he think he is, the Minister of Magic?”

“At least Quidditch is back,” you offer, momentarily distracting yourself with the thought of Sebastian in his Slytherin team robes, cheeks red from the cool fall air and his hair even more windswept than it usually is.

Ominis asks, “Has he said anything yet about when we’ll sit for our exams?”

“Of course not, but there’s a whole paragraph on acceptable trouser lengths,” Sebastian sighs. “Why did we have to end up with the least competent headmaster in Hogwarts history?”

You counter, “To be fair, there’s no way we could’ve gotten away with half of what happened last year if he was any more observant.”

“I don’t know,” Ominis says, a teasing lilt to his voice that lets you know he knows something. “I’ve heard that it isn’t his lack of omniscience that’s the problem.”

“Do tell, love,” you ask interestedly.

You stroke your fingers down his sharp cheekbones to encourage him to spill his secrets – but knowing Ominis, who routinely sources the most scandalous gossip in the entire school, he’ll need little convincing.

“You know, I don’t believe I’ve ever told you about this,” Ominis starts to tell you with a smirk. “But last winter, I was on my way to the library when I ran into Professor Black, and I could have sworn he was drunk.”

“What?” you gasp, and Sebastian raises an eyebrow.

You immediately go red, and Sebastian bursts into laughter.

“Ominis, that wasn’t Black, that was her!” he exclaims.

“...What?” Ominis asks hesitantly.

“She’d taken Polyjuice Potion to sneak into the headmaster’s office for one of those trials of hers,” Sebastian drawls. “Honestly, I can’t believe you didn’t know about this already.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ominis demands, sitting up on his elbows and glaring accusingly in your direction.

“I forgot I hadn’t!” you tell him, and it’s mostly the truth.

But Ominis can tell you’re holding back. “What aren’t you saying?”

“Well… I guess I forgot I hadn’t told you because I assumed you could tell it was me the whole time,” you admit sheepishly. “But then once I realized you didn’t know, I couldn’t resist messing with you a little.”

Ominis scoffs, mock-offended. Then he hears Sebastian snort and rounds on him.

“And why exactly do you know about this?” he asks. “Did you help her?”

“No, I just caught her,” Sebastian says proudly. “I was walking by Fig’s classroom when ‘Professor Black’ came running out and it wouldn’t have taken a genius to find out that it was an imposter.”

“I thought I did a fairly good job,” you counter, pouting.

“Love, Black does not run,” Sebastian reminds you. “If you’d spent less time bounding around the Highlands all autumn and actually observing the slick git at work, you would’ve known that too.”

You grumble quietly – you know now that he’s correct, Black never runs.

“Plus, when you ran past me, you still smelled like you,” he adds casually, leaning in to nudge his nose along your jawline to treat himself to a reminder. “Rosewater, and citrus.”

“Why didn’t I catch that?” Ominis asks himself under his breath.

“Had to be suspicious, I suppose,” Sebastian answers, patting Ominis’ knee reassuringly. “Don’t worry, she’s promised to avoid Polyjuice potion for the foreseeable future.”

“I don’t recall making any such promise,” you say cheekily. “In fact, if any of us want to pass our Potions N.E.W.T. exam, we all have to learn how to make it correctly, which means testing it.”

“I’m not testing anything Ominis makes, he’s dreadful at potions,” Sebastian teases.

“Fair point,” Ominis agrees. “We can just make Hobhouse do it.”

“You’re incorrigible,” you giggle, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Ominis’ lips. “Why can’t you leave that poor boy alone?”

“He knows what he did,” Sebastian simply says, gently gripping your chin to pull you up so he can steal a kiss as well.

#hogwarts legacy #my fic #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt x mc #sebastian x ominis x mc #shadow trio #i SWEAR anon your ****** fic will be next i just had to get this out xoxo #title is most certainly a reference to how seb and ominis will eventually ruin duncan's day

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

Text

[23:26] ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Roommate!Chan x G.N!Reader Themes: Roommates to ??????, Fluff Warnings: Nothing much really. Pet Names? The MC is implied to be chubby/fat with not much focus on it. Mentions of anxiety. Mentions of eating. Belly fondling? These two have a Not-Thing going on, if you know what i mean. Barely proofread. Word Count: ~1k Summary: You couldn’t sleep, and desperate times require desperate measures.

Author’s Note: some simple fluff, for a change… been working on bigger pieces and i’ve been a bit overwhelmed with them… so here is a drabble i wrote as a little warm up… figured i’d post it just because~ (also i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t thinking of WereRoomies’ Chris and his girl while writing this… it doesn’t fit anywhere in the story i think, but my mind certainly drifted that way…)

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Sleep wouldn’t come to you. It was just one of those days. One of those where you did so much, where everything was so loud, so bright, your senses were in complete overdrive.

Your eyelids were heavy, your feet ached, and the ringing in your ears seemed to be louder than usual. Even then, sleep wouldn’t come.

You got tired of feeling your heart stammering in your chest, of your thoughts running wild and free within your exhausted mind.

Overthinking… Probably your best ally and your worst enemy at the same time, especially at times like these.

You tried your best to sleep, you really did, but it just wouldn’t come. So, once you accepted that fact, you just picked up your phone and started scrolling.

And scrolling…

And of course, that only made it all worse. So you decided to break the glass on your emergency kit: Christopher.

Throwing your covers to the side you sat down on your bed, blindly toeing the floor until you found your slippers. The floor was cold, and that had a shiver running up and down your spine as soon as your bare feet touched the tiles. You decided to ignore it, since you finally found what you were looking for.

With your slippers securely in place, you made your way out of your room, dragging your feet all the way to Chris’ door at the other end of the hall.

There was a faint, purple light coming from the crack underneath, it stuck out like a sore thumb in the otherwise dark hall.

Knock.

There was no answer for a while, maybe a whole minute. It certainly felt like an eternity, to the point you weren’t sure if Chris heard you at all, but it was just as you were about to knock again that his voice came from the other side, signalling you to come in.

Once you opened the door you were engulfed by the purple light, making you squint after so long in the dark. When your eyes focused, you saw him, hunched over his desk, typing at his laptop. He was shirtless, which made no sense considering how cold it was, but Chris was essentially a living furnace, so you weren’t really surprised at this point. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d be freezing and he’d be completely fine, he’d always tease you about it, but hopefully not tonight.

You stood by the door for a moment too long, just admiring his side profile–the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the length of his neck… It wasn’t until he turned his eyes away from the screen to look at you, with a soft, but tired smile on his lips, that you noticed you’d been staring, so you snapped out of it, blinking a bit and finally going into the room, closing the door quietly behind you.

“What’s up, pup?” Chris brought his arms over his head, linking his fingers together and groaning as he stretched. You must’ve been really tired, since the sight of his defined muscles didn’t seem to affect you like it usually did, which honestly was for the better. He’d clearly been sitting at that desk for way too long–something that was, unfortunately, not uncommon.

“Can’t sleep”, you yawned, covering your mouth with your fist only to finally bring it to your eye socket after, rubbing sleep from your eye.

“Mm… I’ll be done in a few minutes”, Chris gave you a small smile, only returning his eyes to his laptop screen once you nodded in acknowledgement.

The click-clack of his keyboard filled the space again, so you made your way to his bed–stone cold, you noted–and you tucked yourself under the covers, letting the sound of the keys and just the mere presence of your roommate to embrace you, to ground you.

Because that was what Chris always did. Ground you.

Whenever you were feeling like this, all anxious and filled with chaotic thoughts, Chris’ existence could simply ground you.

You didn’t fall asleep, you were a bit more relaxed, though, which was a start. Eventually, you heard Chris moving, closing his laptop and groaning a bit once again as he stretched–or at least, you figured he was stretching, you couldn’t really see him, you were turned away from him, and your eyes were closed.

Chris left the room briefly, only to return a couple of minutes later and go through the motions of switching off every light in his room.

Darkness enveloped you. You felt the covers being lifted, the bed dipped behind you, and, finally, you felt warmth.

Slinging an arm around your waist, Chris pulled you to his chest, and you all but melted in his hold. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, his toothpaste-minty breath fanning your neck, and just his entire body heat wrapping around you.

“You okay?” He asked all of a sudden, voice but a whisper.

You simply shrugged, taking a hold of his hand and bringing it to your chest to hold it tightly against you. “Just tired”.

“Mm…" Chris didn’t sound too convinced. He never did in these situations, but he didn’t press any further. Instead, he moved his hand, bringing yours close to him behind you, and you felt how he pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your hand.

Returning your hand where it was, he hugged you closer, moving instead to press slow, tender kisses on your shoulder, raising goosebumps on his way.

This wasn’t uncommon, either. Although it should’ve been.

It only ever happened at this time, when you came to him with this problem in the wee hours of the night.

Chris was touchy, cuddly, affectionate, he was at any time of the day. But this late, he always let his guard down, as did you, and you both always ended up here, sharing your warmth in ways that could be considered way too intimate for just roommates, just friends.

“Warm…” You mumbled all of a sudden, surprising even yourself.

“Hm?” Each kiss lingered a bit longer than the other on your skin, each kiss moved a bit further up after the other, and Chris sneaked a hand under your vest top, finding your soft lower belly and slowly, almost absentmindedly kneading your flesh. The gesture always made you flush.

“You’re warm, Christopher…” You replied simply, letting out the dreamiest–and possibly most pathetic–sigh you’ve ever heard.

Chris chuckled softly behind you, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. “So are you, love…”

“Mmm…” You were turning to putty in his hands, between his tender kisses and his kneading hands all your worries seemed to be melting away, leaving only Chris and his touch in your mind.

“You’re so soft, too… How are you this soft, baby, huh?” Chris emphasised his words by lightly squeezing your belly, making you smile.

“I like to eat… This… Renaissance body isn’t gonna… Maintain itself…” Your words were slurring, your mind was suddenly foggy with sleep, and you vaguely registered your ‘good night, baby…’

Just as you vaguely even registered Chris’ ‘sleep well, pup…’ right before you fell asleep.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @staaa96 @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @carefully325 @lavenderxkies @starshine-moon @biribarabiribbaem @meowmeowhoon @100layersofdaddyissues @dearalice @alexis-reads-fics @xcookiemonsteer @knowleeknow @chanlovesme If you want to be removed from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

#bang chan fluff #chan fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #✨🌙✏

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iwantjaketosullyme · 1 year

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭

➺ pairing: aged up!neteyam x omatikaya!reader (angst) ➺ summary: 'and i say your name in hopes you'll hear it in the stars' (w/c: 1.7k) ➺ warnings: death, grieving, hurt (not rlly any comfort), reader is a lil unhinged?? a/n: loosely inspired by mitski's 'carry me out' so go listen to that, cry a lil bit then come back nd cry some more :( kind of a long drabble, na'vi dictionary at the end !!

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Every night, you return to the rock on which he died.

His rock. It is where you feel closest to him. Everybody else seems to find solace in the fleeting moments spent with a version of him at Ranteng Utralti, where he is Neteyam and simultaneously, not Neteyam. A cruel merging of both his pure spirit, innocent to his own death and an extension of your memories of him.

You, on the other hand, are too preoccupied with lamenting over the new memories with him that cannot be made – there were parts of Neteyam you were yet to discover, parts of him even he was yet to discover. You mourn not only what once was, but also what never was and never will be.

For Kiri, he is the protective pseudo-twin that effortlessly intimidates the skxawng that dared to tease her for her extra finger, by virtue of the squaring of his shoulders and the furrow of his brow. The white knight she never asked for, but would always appreciate.

For Lo’ak, he is the all-encompassing security of the known world made flesh and bone. A constant. Constant companion, constant rival, constant scapegoat. As a young boy he pinned all his hopes and dreams on Neteyam, nearly idolising his brother, the mighty warrior.

As he grew in both stature and teenage angst, he began to pin his anger at the world that did not understand him and refused to accept him onto Neteyam too.

As he watched the body of his brother sink to the bottom of the ocean floor, the innermost part of him whispered that all that he had pinned over the years grew and grew until it was what tied the metaphorical rock to Neteyam’s ankle, ensuring his fate below the sea’s surface and amongst the ancestors.

Even Kiri, the resident empath, does not understand when you admit your aversion to visiting him at the spirit tree. That version of him is ever close, but ever out of your reach. What she does understand, is when you confide in her that you think the sea yearns for the sky as you do for your yawne.

When the roaring waves crashing against one another almost make it look as if the sea has grown limbs, extending its appendages in an effort to grasp at the elusive sky. Equally near as it is far.

It is here, on this solid rock that you make your peace with the truth. Cold, hard and unmoving, like this rock. You lay in the same position as the last version of him you came to know; a young man stripped of his cognizance, relieved of his typical reservations and nobility, finally expressing his heart’s desire. To go home.

Moved by raw emotion, you compress the length of your form against the boulder, rough surface digging into your back the same way it would have pressed into his – you long to feel his pain. You stretch your arms out beside you, feel the grooves formed by an unknown number of years of erosion. Erosion caused by the sea. The sea gives, and the sea takes.

Each night, you slip away from the communal meal, running from the sympathetic looks of concerned clan members, or the softly – but firmly – spoken sage words of wisdom from Neytiri intended to comfort you. But only you know what comforts you best.

Each night, you run your palms over the jagged edges of his rock and find a new crater within it that you had not noticed before. With each new trace of the same surface you remind yourself of the events of that night, explore another possibility of how it could have ended, what you could have done differently.

It was on that night that you learnt of the cruelty within the Great Mother’s just nature. Of course, you would never dare to question her, for you knew of the love she held for each and every one of her children. This would not, however, fill the gaping hole in your heart that Neteyam had made his place of permanent residence.

It would not remedy the odd lightness you felt on your right shoulder in the dead of night, your body yearning for the familiar weight of his weary head as he finally rests after a long day of protecting everyone but himself. Whispers his grievances into the crook of your neck, secrets he could never fathom telling anyone else. Eternally the saviour with no complaints.

It has been a little over four weeks since you lost your life’s love to the waters around you, and thus the customary mourning period has come to an end. With your knowledge of this comes the realisation that you can no longer grieve your loss so openly anymore; up until this point you had been merely going through the motions of your daily duties. Physically present, but neither mentally nor emotionally – behaviour most unlike you.

Like most in the Omatikaya clan, you were not left unscarred by the Sky People’s greed, be it from the events of the Great War nearly two decades ago, or their recent resurgence in the forest, and so grief was not an entirely alien concept.

With a community of people as close as yours is, was (you must remind yourself that you are no longer a tsmuke of the Omatikaya but of the Metkayina now), it was near enough impossible not to have lost a loved one. You had come to understand that there was no one way of grieving.

That did not, however, prepare you for what you feel currently. Your previous battles with grief had caused a hot anger to sear through your being, fuelling your hatred for the tawtute impostors and renewing your thirst for vengeance. You had cried, dried your tears and ploughed on. This time could not have been any more different for you. This time, yours was a fossilised kind of sadness.

No matter how understanding the Sullys are of your shared grief, with every interaction you have with them you feel obliged to remove the dark veil of your heavy countenance for their sake. Sometimes, when your sense of hurt pushes your thoughts to be more callous than empathetic, you wonder why exactly everybody else is able to move on but you cannot.

Is it because Jake and Neytiri still have three other children to nurture and watch flourish? Because Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk will still have each other? Neteyam was, is still your one and only. As the man intended to be your mate, he was the sole reason why you had even relocated to Awa’atlu with the Sully family. Without him you do not yet know quite how to live.

When your thoughts are more rational and the fog of despair lifts momentarily, you can see the way it still affects them. You hear it every time Neytiri speaks, a gravity present in her voice that was not before – an echo of the keening wail of a newly bereft mother.

You see it in the quiet, steely glint of determination in Jake’s gaze when he has his secret meetings with Tonowari. Where Lo’ak’s nonchalant nature would previously have meant he skives from training in favour of a deep sea swim with Payakan, now he is always first to arrive at the section of the shoreline dedicated to training and last to leave. You know, undoubtedly, another war is coming.

Until then, you will cling to the sanctuary that this rock offers you. Here, you are free to bear the burden of your grief without shame. Carry the weight of it, feel its pressure, let it mould you into a misshapen form no different to the rock you lay on, hunched shoulders and weary back. As you lay back, you allow the gentle waves to lap over you.

You cannot help but wonder what Neteyam must have been thinking when he was laid out here. Did he know that he would be leaving you like this? A small part of you hopes that the coaxing tide will drag you out to sea, beyond the reef, down, down, down into your watery grave so that your body can finally rest, surrounded by the sea anemones. Surrounded by Neteyam.

Gazing up into the night, you give your thoughts the freedom to take shape; twist and turn as they so wish. You imagine them being made physical before your eyes that are glazed over with unshed tears. You will them to float skywards, beyond the cover of night, up, up, up above the ether to reach the stars that hold your beloved. Silent prayers to the still night’s sky.

A small rock pierces the atmosphere, crossing the sky’s black canvas with speed swifter than a palulukan in pursuit and velocity greater than an ikran flying into battle. Lost in thought, you nearly miss the sight of the shooting star, white hot rock cutting through an obsidian sky. An auspicious symbol.

In your eager attempt not to lose sight of it you sit up abruptly, nearly keeling over as you stretch your neck to gaze up towards the sky. You manage to keep it in your visage, panic rising when it crosses over into your peripheral. Wasting no time, you crawl over, scurrying on all fours to the other end of the rock, from which it is perfectly in your eyeline.

Incensed, your arms that are now grazed by the harsh edges of rock stretch out towards the star until you can feel a dull ache in the joint that connects it to your torso. Entire body extended, you open your palms wide to their full span, clutching at the fiery rock before clamping your fingers so tightly together, you can feel the skin pulling tautly over bone.

The gesture is a physical confirmation of your understanding of this phenomenon ordained by Eywa, a promise to her that you will listen. A promise to Neteyam that you will live.

You strengthen your grip on this promise and tuck it away in your heart, in the space that Neteyam used to reside in. Rolling over, you ground yourself, leaning your back against the rock. His rock. He was your rock.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

na’vi dictionary

ranteng utralti - the spirit tree // skxawng - idiot // yawne - beloved // tsmuke - sister // tawtute - sky person, sky people // palulukan - thanator // ikran - banshee

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