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kaicubus · 1 year

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Hidden in the Trees | Karaku

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warnings ✩° : 18+ smut, cunnilingus, a pinch of degrading, mostly praise, demon sex, size difference, overstimulation!receiving, some masochism!receiving, consensual sex, cursing.

pairing ✩° : karaku x fem hashira!reader

premise ✩° : after escaping the fourth upper moon hantengu, you find yourself running into a forest with what seems to have no exit. with no other way to go, you're forced to face the strangest of the demon clones, the pleasure demon.

word count ✩° : 4.2k

authors note ✩° : yippee another one down!! 2/4 look out for the rest...trying to get them all down in a timely fashion plz bear with me!!

©kaicubus do not steal

part one here!

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Was this the same demon from before? There was no way. The demon standing in front of you looked pleasant. Still, demon like, with thick veins pumping cold blood around his eyes and a plum-like color darkening his under eyes and forehead. What irked you most was that this clearly was one of Hantengu’s clones, but it looked nothing like who you saw before. This one, was attractive, almost, with a much more muscular built and tall stature. Now, he looks like a worthy opponent, all in all which terrifies you. Was he really the same demon who was crawling on the ground before?

You shift your feet into an instinctive kill mode, feet planted firm into the ground below, your movements making crunching noises against the plethora of dry leaves. You gain awareness of all the trees surrounding you two, the green of their lushness flurrying down. It’s an uncanny sort of feeling. For some reason, even when faced with one of the most powerful ranked demons, the setting around you was eerily calm. Not just the way the leaves fall slowly and the wind just barley picks up, but the demon who stands before you seems like he has already won the battle that hasn’t even started yet.

You stare at the green eyed demon with a murderous glint in your eyes and thinly pressed lips, mentally preparing for the worst. But, instead, the worst doesn’t happen. Rather than harvesting your life, you hear a lowly chuckle almost gurgle out of the demon’s throat, paired with a loud thumping noise start to approach you, slow enough to notice the horrible sinking feeling in your gut but too fast for you to do anything about it. With every step closer, the demon’s smile grows, watching as you move backwards right into the thick trunk of a tree.

You look back, then back at him, feeling a cold sweat start to form on your brow, mostly from confusion as to why this demon is so calm. He doesn't even look like a demon, and certainly doesn't look human. With your shoulders square, you back into the tree even more and hold your sword further in front of you, not being able to hide your shakes as the shirtless figure is now standing over you.

As the shadow of the night leak through the thick foliage of the trees above, the dark markings on this clone’s face make him even more spine chilling. He’s so close,

“And you thought I wouldn't catch up. You managed to lose me back there.” The demon speaks, holding his square shoulders up low, almost relaxed like. “I’ve fought humans before, but, I didn't think anyone could ever outrun me. I’m impressed. You have my attention.”

Have his attention? In what world would you ever want his attention? You wanted to scream at him, rip his head off with your bear hands, end this, and go home, but the demon in front of you clearly isn't taking you seriously.

“Is this a game to you?!” Your shoulders tense, anger piquing as you grip onto your sword handle more.

“To me, of course. But to you, it might be a bit more scarier than a game.” The demon in front of you draws his claws up to your chin and raises your face up to his unmatched, demonic height. The dark emerald green color fills your vision and that’s when you finally realize which clone of Hantengu’s he is.

“Karaku.” You mutter under your breath. Karaku, the demon clone who possesses the pleasure emotion of his host. You always thought that out of all the emotions Hantengu could have, pleasure was surely the weirdest one. That said, you didn’t know what you were up against, in fact the thought alone of what pleasure entailed made you nearly weep with all the gruesome feelings imaginable. But you hold your ground.

Karaku smiles slowly at you, his head tilting down and even closer to you, nearly enough to kiss you. Despite what you think, there’s no seemingly malicious bone in his body. Yet at least.

“That’s right. You know who I am. That’s good. Now, could I ask what a demon slayer like you is doing alone? And with no sword, that’s kind of like your whole thing right? You wave around a sword and slice my head off, right?” Karaku shifts his hand onto his face, curling his cold fingers on his cheek, “With no sword...and clearly no ability to actually fight me. You’re useless. Right? That makes this fun.”

You look down at your sword, confused, but suddenly feel a harsh gust of wind blow your way, knocking you off your feet.

There’s only a second from that to the moment where your back hits the ground and your sword is thrown out of your hand. Upon impact, you close your eyes and throw your crossed arms over your face, fear stinging your senses, before you open your eyes again to see the demon directly on top of you. The demonic look in his eyes is enough to make you shriek, just before he lunges down with his mouth open.

With a grunt, you kick the center of his chest, only managing to blow enough air to thrust his charcoal black hair off his shoulders. Your efforts amuse the sick entity, reflecting in a cynical grin accompanied by a squinted smile of the demon. Still, you grit your teeth and continue pushing on his firm, muscular chest. The least you can do is try to survive as long as you can before someone finds you. Surely anyone can recognize you're gone and will come search for you. Right?

“Was that supposed to hurt?” Karaku chuckles hoarsely, “Because it was more pleasant than I expected. Maybe I am stronger than I thought. That’s nice.” His smile deepens. “Don’t you realize how easy it is for me to overpower you, and kill you? I could tear you open, drain your blood, and eat your flesh in seconds. And you think a measly kick can stop me?”

With his hand straddling your ankle, you mentally curse at the undeniable realization that you can’t even get out from his grasp.

“Say, I never caught your name. What was it, hashira?”

Your eyes quickly glance down at his position, how his legs are properly situated between your trembling thighs, ankles quivering at the demon above you, yet he remains calm and stares, waiting for your response.

So you swallow all your anxiety and answer. “Y/n. My name is Y/n.”

“You’ve come to kill me? Right?” Karaku inches closer, revealing his elongated teeth poking out from his warm lips. A chill runs down your spine. He’s already thinking of eating me. “Hey, right?”

“Yes!” You grit your teeth and remind him who has a foot pressed against him, shoving the bottom of your shoe into him harder. Karaku doesn’t pay any mind to it though. He knows you’re trying to gain the upper hand, it’s a game he knows all too well. But he’s tired of fighting, and for once he deserves a break from killing and eating human flesh. Well, not entirely the second one. Being the most relaxed clone of Hantengu, it’s easy for Karaku to analyze situation and step back when he needs to. He feels no sympathy for his victims, yet the experiences they give him fulfill him so much more than any killing could. Even if sometimes he can kill two birds with one stone.

Your eyes dart around his face. You can’t even tell what he’s thinking with such a relaxed expression. But Karaku quickly reaches for the inner side of your ankle and tugs you closer to him.

“You know...” Karaku says, just barley above a whisper, “A hashira shouldn't be so worked up meeting me. Wouldn't wanna worry your pretty head, I’m just a big scary demon is all. I don’t want to hurt you.” His hands skitter up your ankle all the way to your thigh, rubbing methodically in wide circles just to avoid suspicion. With a tainted grin, Karaku’s hand travels up your skirt, pushing the pleated fabric out of the way. Before you can protest or kick him further, it finally clicks in your mind that you had no safety shorts or shorts at all protecting under your skirt. As the demon corps uniform protocol calls for, all you have on is your skirt and your panties underneath, which in this moment serves as a great disadvantage to your dignity.

Quickly, you buckle your knees together, making a quick bucking sound from your kneecaps clashing, followed by a small wince after. This in turn, piques Karaku’s interest and the devilish grin you've grown so fond of returns once again.

“Of all the things...” Karaku says giddily, “Of all the things you choose to protect. That’s, your main concern? What are you hiding from me, puny hashira?”

You feel your throat close. Just as you’d hoped to keep your life by protecting yourself, you’d failed to distract him from possibly the most insignificant worry you had suddenly realized. Now he was intrigued and now there was no way out of his curiosity.

Karaku’s claws move up your skirt further, now not pulling you into his chest, but rather peeling back the fabric akin to selfishly unwrapping a present not meant for him, revealing a pair of tight, white underwear. The best part?

There’s a wet spot smack center in the middle, all for Karaku to see and instantly take notice in. When his eyes dart to your entrance, you feel your soul leave your body. There’s no denying the attraction you’d felt to Karaku before, but you never would’ve guessed that it resulted in this. Still, you hold your breath and stare up at him, knees now separated and your face dripping with sweat. Karaku on the other hand, parts his lips, revealing his elongated canines and a raised brow, perplexed yet interested. He lets out a soft chuckle as his rough hands turn soft with feather like touches around your waist.

“Hm, that’s strange.” Karaku says, eyes widening owlishly with curiosity, “I haven’t even done anything…and yet…” he prods a finger forward and touches lightly on the front of your underwear, pressing down on the darkened wet spot growing larger by the second. You look away shamefully and mumble incoherently under your breath, too embarrassed to look the demon in his green eyes as his smile widens from ear to pointed ear. “You’re wet right here. That means you like me, huh?”

“W-Wait—” You stare helplessly at Karaku rubs his thumb over your clothed pussy, swirling the slick underneath the thin layer of cotton. Instinctively, your hips jerk forward and you find yourself gasping for air, not out of fear, but out of pleasure. It’s strange, but Karaku only smiles, his expression turning almost lovingly as he leans forward and closes the gap between you both. With his lips on yours, you feel his tongue push past your locked teeth and glide right under yours, licking every surface of your mouth.

“Mm! Mhh!” You squeeze your eyes tighter and attempt to grab hold of his wrist, failing in the process and only making the position more intimate as Karaku lowers his position onto you. When he breaks the kiss, it doesn't take long before his hungry and curious lips find another curve of your body to settle on, marking his territory all the way down to your chest, unbuttoning your uniform with his teeth, and to your skirt, where he tears that off too, and finally settling right in between your plush, doughy thighs. All the way, your breathing deepens, skin glowing red at this point, not sure what he’ll do next.

“We don’t need all those anymore, I need to see your lovely figure for me to be satisfied. Doesn’t the air feel nice, Y/n?” The demon strokes your sides with the tip of his claws, tracing lines into your untouched skin. His mind reels at your warmness, the way your blood rushes inside your body, and how he gets to feel and experience it all up close. Emerald green shimmers into your glossy eyes, and his silky, raven hair makes his demonic appearance all the more alluring, especially in such a delirious state.

“M-Mhm...” A breathy whine spills from your throat as soon as you feel his cheek press against the side of your inner thigh, his tongue soon following. You hadn't noticed it before, but now looking at it, you notice how the top of his tongue spells ‘pleasure’ in kanji.

Warm lips press against the side of your inner thigh, prying your legs open for the demon’s viewing, gently spreading your exposed cunt to him more and more. Every bone in your body tells you to stop him and kill him in fear of enjoying this too much, and yet, you watch him discover the most vulnerable part of you up close.

As if he can read your mind, Karaku looks back up to you and smirks, “Aren’t you going to tell me to stop? I don’t sense any displeasure coming from you, puny human, does that mean you want me to keep going?” Karaku says lowly, awaiting your answer.

“N-No...I-I don’t, I don’t want you to stop...” You say without thinking. That was all he needed to continue, and before you could get an understanding of what you just said, Karaku’s mouth finds your entrance and latches onto you very quickly.

You hadn’t even noticed he’d taken off your underwear a while back until you feel the heat of his branded tongue graze on the surface of your cunt, spooking you just a bit before your shoulders soften and your neck loses its structure.

Using his puckered lips, Karaku presses a soft kiss against your entrance, at first lightly. He kisses again, and again, until his welcoming kisses become more passionate and messy, all introductory formality being lost in his simmering curiosity. He’d never ate pussy before, though you could hardly tell, so naturally he’s very attentive to catering to your needs, looking up at you every chance he gets or as soon as he feels you twitch.

“H-Hah...wait just a minute...” You push your palm to his forehead to stop him, but stop instantly as Karaku presses your legs together, resulting in pushing himself further into you. The heated oral muscle greets you again, as well as the head rushing feeling of pure ecstasy. An ecstasy you're too ashamed of admitting you like.

“I’ve never tasted anything like this before.” Karaku says in between licks, “It’s so warm, and pleasant. I can’t help but wonder, isn't there a way to get more wet stuff out of here?” He purrs. Answering his own question, Karaku lowers his head and closes his eyes just enough so that only the tops of his lashes can be seen. You stifle out a struggled moan and shudder, hands curling into your messy clothes beneath you. Karaku continues to greet your dewy folds with his curved tongue, licking down on your sex and gathering up all the slick he can harvest on his tongue.

“A-Agh...W-Why don’t you just k-kill me? That’s far less embarrassing than—thIS!” You throw your head forward shamefully as Karaku’s tongue plunges deeper inside you, almost as if he’s telling you to stop talking. “K-Karaku!” Making a loud slurping noise, the demon pulls away and pants puffs of hot air onto your cunt, admiring the sheer glossiness it now has.

“You taste so good…delicious.” Karaku’s words are muffled as his mouth returns to your heat, pressing his branded tongue flat on your drooling pussy. Even if you tried moving away from him, it was no use. His fingers are practically embedded into your flesh, sharp claw-like fingernails drilling you and nearly drawing blood. You can hardly focus at the pain as Karaku licks bold stripes along your center, occasionally flicking the tip of his tongue faster than anything you’ve felt in your life. There was certainly no way to stop him.

“Karaku!” You whine, hips bucking in every which direction imaginable, “Karaku p-please!” It didn’t matter if you came once, twice, or even three times, with the speed of which he’s going, it’ll be impossible to pry him off your clit. That, and he just doesn’t want to.

“Is the puny hashira begging for me? Me? Oh, that makes me so fucking happy.” Karaku flashes his emerald green eyes back up at you, peeking up from in between your legs. “And I thought I’d never hear the words ‘please’ come out of your mouth. I guess I’ll take ‘p-please’ mh~!” Even though it’s wrong, even if this moment is frowned upon by any sane person, you can’t help but feel butterflies swarm inside the deepest parts of you, reminding you that no other person—or entity for that matter—has made you feel such pleasure. A red hue floods to your cheeks and you lean your head back, unable to withstand more than a seconds of eye contact.

Even just looking at you turned Karaku on. More than he’d like to admit. The sight of your head thrown back, mouth hung open, hair tangled and messy from the previous encounter, and now your ripped black and white uniform hanging off your shoulders, exposing your chest all to him. He relished in it all. Mostly, the feeling of being absolutely buried in your pussy, his nose poking the hood of your clit each ravenous grunt he makes to get closer to you.

Your eyes roll back as Karaku extends his tongue to fully show the kanji that says, ‘pleasure’ and presses it flat against your entrance, making a ‘slop’ sound before ravishing your wetness. Again and again, Karaku slurps at your cunt, using his huge, calloused hands to move your waist and body up and down on his mouth. One wrong move and he would surely scrape his teeth against your sensitive flesh. Unintentionally. Still, that didn't stop you from wiggling closer to him, pushing your wet pussy further into his mouth.

“Just relax,” Karaku giggles, “You like it, huh? Makes you feel good~” He slurs, ears perking up at all the soft whimpers flowing out of you, “Good girl, just like that, open wider for me.”

“H-Hngh! Karaku—NGH!” You groan breathlessly and press your legs together onto the sides of his face. His pointed ears poke into the insides of your thighs and you can’t help but want more of it. There was no way where you would have ever predicted that inhuman features like pointed ears, prodding canine teeth, and horns would ever make you feel anything other than hatred. But Karaku makes you forget it all.

You feel yourself getting hotter as Karaku doesn’t look away from you, the kanji in his eyes burning into yours, not moving an inch since when he started. There was no telling what he was thinking in his head, but the thought of all of it was making your mind go brainlessly numb.

With another bold lick, Karaku flutters his tongue in the pool of your juices, drawing a string of saliva and cum from your entrance and looking at you with a completely feral expression. “You don’t let up, do you?” He chuckles, “C’mere, puny hashira. Be a good human for me and let me taste you again, yeah? You’re so pretty...I can’t help myself, I’m getting so excited.” Karaku hums in amusement.

“Ah, hah, ah! Karaku-uh!” Your cunt continues to pulsate, growing wetter each time he suckles on your folds, wanting so desperately to please you and hear his name fall harder this time from your lips. A hashira, getting fucked out by a demon. Your mind runs rampant. All the sounds you make are practically drowned out by Karaku’s attention on your clit, gradually fucking you on his tongue and nudging his fangs against your velvet entrance, reminding him that you’re not like him and sooner or later you’re going to burst. He smiles at the thought.

A hand flies to his head and bumps into his horns, finally something to grab onto, and you suddenly get a rush of sanity back and cling onto the boney material with all your might. While it’s just to push him back for even just a second, Karaku takes the opportunity to gasp for air, now giving you a chance to look at him in all his clouded glory. His lips are red and shiny from your arousal, mouth slightly open and puffing out a mixture of his own breath and the scent of suffocating sex on his branded tongue. You can tell he’s not thinking of anything else but finding new ways to satisfy you by the hazy look in his eyes. The color almost matches the leaves above. Fitting.

“Karaku, j-just slow down before I—” The words die on your tongue as soon as Karaku pushes back your hold on his horns and dives in between your legs once more.

Like he’s getting high off the taste, his tongue laps again at your sex, squishing your sensitive flesh down with every messy lick he makes.

You begin to wail as Karaku pushes his tongue deeper inside of you, easily finding your sweet spot and abusing it with all his strength and stamina. The warm touch of his tongue along with his now rose-wet lips pressing against your entrance draws out more lewd sounds from you.

Trying to breathe, Karaku doesn’t let up and only continues to swirl his tongue on your soaked cunt, occasionally dipping into your pussy to taste you deeper. “Mm, more more more.” He chants into you. As soon as your knees start to buckle in pure ecstasy, Karaku holds them apart and opens more of your legs to suck more and more, driving you practically insane.

By now, you're too dazed to even realize how much Karaku had done, and how much of a mess you are now. So focused on the acute surges of pleasure running through your body with every little curl of his tongue or slurp of his wet lips on yours. What once was a soft, sheepish voice soon became a high-pitched cry in a matter of seconds. Pleasure rolls through your body with the overwhelming knowledge that you could sense your own high.

It almost doesn't feel real. At the hands, or rather, mouth of a demon, it just doesn't feel right. But it feels too fucking good to ignore. Karaku is completely engulfed in the taste of you, sucking on your clit harder now, with his claws biting into the plushness of your thighs to be closer to him, just to fill the insatiable hunger he possesses. “Karaku!” His name comes out as a warning, trying not to give in, “K-hh! Wait wait wait! Karaku I-N-NGH!” Just then, you jerk your head back, no longer wishing to hold back anymore, and allow his name to run freely, “Karaku! H-Hngh!” When his name leaves your lips, so does all the built up pleasure inside your body, and as if a bolt of lightning stroked inside of you, you feel the rush begin to surge. Keeping his eyes on you, you feel the demon smile widely as he quickens his pace, licking up all the wetness from leaking out of his reach.

“That’s good,” Karaku purrs and kisses your clit, not planning on stopping you from cumming all over his tongue, “Keep going...don’t stop, puny hashira.” When he pulls away, not going too far, you're met with the bitter cold of the night, hips instantly shivering from the loss of his touch.

Coating the inner walls of your thighs, and even trickling down to the fabric of your uniform placed under you, Karaku watches as arousal spills out from you, all from just his tongue. The sticky, almost briney, fluid pools on your pinkish, glistening folds, making your heart leap out of your chest as you gasp in short breaths of air. Karaku laughs at the warmth leaking onto his finger and taps the softness of your clit, amused by the tiny jerks and twitches of you and your hips, trying to ride out the aftermath of your climax. “Ah...ah...ah...” You groan and roll your hips back.

“You’re so pretty, Y/n. I wish you came here sooner. Instead of being a demon hunter, you could’ve came here to me and I’d eat this pussy out all the time.” He says, cupping the outside of your thigh. “Wouldn't that be nice...being here with me, right?” He flashes a curious look at you, to which you can’t help but look away in shame anymore. His nose, lips, and chin are all soaked in your juices, and even if he doesn’t seem to mind and even likes it, you can’t shake the feeling that he was able to do so much for you.

Your heavy lidded eyes look up at him, panting uncontrollably, “Karaku...I’m so tired...” your words make the demon freeze, but very quickly turn into a wide smile. He does his best to lick all the cum off his face, even using his fingers to suck off your arousal, laughing a bit at your blissed out expression. Instead of leaving you behind, Karaku sits up with you in his arms, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before leaving your clothes in the dirt.

“Come on, don’t fall asleep now. We still have much to do, puny hashira. I can’t wait to experience new things with you.”

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suppose-i-was-worm · 8 months

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For Lack of a Burger

**finally I have written! Sorry for the long absence, folks- my cat is a needy little thing and I love her. Enjoy!**

“As blood son of Batman, it is only natural that I train here to become heir to the Bat.”

Dick- well, Nightwing right now- looked down at Robin, who was staring out over Gotham with his brow furrowed.

“And what of the league? I can’t imagine them letting the heir to the Demon’s Head run loose.”

Robin stiffened a fraction more than he already was- something that Nightwing wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t trained by Batman himself.

“I know only one thing for sure concerning the heirship of the league.”

“What is that?”

“Grandfather will not taste relief in death.”

Nightwing wasn’t sure what that meant, but Damian seemed so assured of the fact. He would have to tell Bruce- maybe Ra’s had discovered a better method of immortality than the pits?

An alert pinged on their communicators, and the two of them checked it before heading off to save the citizens.

~~~

“I miss real food, Clocky.”

“You are currently unable to process it.”

“I know. Ectoplasm just isn’t the same though.”

Danny sprawled on Clockwork’s floor, lazily filling out paperwork from ages ago and yesterday.

“It has been a very long time since you left humanity behind.”

“I wish there was a safe way to go back and get some food.”

His mentor paused briefly, and Danny looked up. Was that a gleam in Clockwork’s eye?

“There is a way.”

Danny shot up into a seated position, crossing his legs.

“Tell me!”

“You will face many hardships.”

“Clockwork, serious as a funeral, I would kill for a burger right now.”

Clockwork smiled enigmatically.

“You may have to.”

He flicked his fingers and Danny found himself pushed back. He allowed it- at this point in his existence, he could overpower Clockwork, but he’d asked for this.

The world went dark around him.

~~~

In the year since he’d come to live with Father, Damian had not said a word about his brother. He’d been told, before being unceremoniously bundled away from the only home he’d ever known, that he was to be the heir of the Bat and Daniel was to be the Demon’s Head.

His mother had told him that Father would try and steal Daniel away from the League- that Damian would yet again be the lesser son. After a few months with Father, Damian had stopped believing that. There was no thing as a ‘lesser’ child for Father.

And yet.

Grandfather was a powerful man, and Grandfather treasured Daniel more than he had ever cared for Damian.

Daniel al Ghul, second son of the Bat of Gotham, was brilliant. He kept his emotions in check, fought with practiced ease in any situation, and spoke circles around even mother. It never took him as long as it took Damian to learn a new skill, and most of the time he spent studying, even when they were both allowed a break.

Damian loved him, even as the younger child overtook the position Damian had striven for his entire life.

What was not to love? Damian had loved him ever since his tiny hand had curled around his finger in infancy.

He had always been fond of small, cute things.

But if Daniel left the League, Grandfather would come after him, and it would be unsafe.

Damian held his tongue and loved his baby brother from a distance, even though he might never see him again.

~~~

John “Hellblazer” Constantine needed a drink. Or several.

Bats had appeared on the Watchtower with yet another new Robin, and this one was probably the most concerning out of all of them.

No, it wasn’t the sword.

It was the massive fucking protection order from a powerful death god that radiated off his small form.

“Bats.”

“Hm.”

“I need to talk to you and the kid.”

Bats nodded, a gesture John took to mean ‘go ahead’.

John sighed.

“Not here, Bats. Too many ears.”

“Hrn.”

The Bat swept away, followed closely by his brightly colored companion. John followed as well. He was pretty good at speaking Bat, after all these years working together.

They made their way into the bowels of the Watchtower, into a sitting room John hadn’t known existed.

“What do you need, Constantine?”

John paused for a moment, assessing. Robin was watching him suspiciously, hand on his sword, and Batman was standing half in front of the little bird protectively.

“Did you know this one was friends with a death god?”

“What?”

The Bat and Robin spoke the same word at the same time, in the exact same tone. Did they practice that? Anyways.

“Yup. Little redbreast screams hands off.”

“I am not acquainted with any gods.”

John shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean you knew they were a god. To get to the bottom of this- has anyone ever sworn to protect you in some way?”

Robin went still and pale behind his mask, before darting a glance up at Batman.

Batman, who was looking down at his sidekick.

“Robin? Report.”

The boy stuck his chin out.

“It was many years ago, Batman. He- they couldn’t have been a god.”

“You don’t know that, kid. Where did you meet him?”

“He wasn’t a god!”

Robin had become defensive, sword halfway out of it’s sheath, glaring at John- presumably for the sin of being alive.

“If the League of Assassins has contact with a deity of death, we need to know, Robin.”

Snarling, Robin started out of the room.

“I will not discuss him with either of you. He is safe where he is.”

“Robin- chum. Who is he?”

Robin stopped in the door, not looking back. His voice wobbled a little as he spoke.

“My younger brother.”

John needed a drink, and fast.

~~~

Danny stood over Damian’s bed, watching his older brother breathe shallowly. Grandfather had beat him badly, and Danny was still unsure why.

Talia wouldn’t look him in the eye, and Grandfather had gone to soak in the pits.

“Daniel?”

“Damian!”

Danny bent over his brother, placing a hand over his pulse to check it.

“Why?”

Why had Grandfather beaten him? Why had he stood and let it happen? Why didn’t he run?

“He… wanted me… t’kill you.”

Danny felt rage swell up in his tiny seven-year-old body. What right did Ra’s al Ghul think he had, to beat a child almost to death for such a reason?

What right did that man have, to touch someone Danny had come to care for?

Closing his eyes briefly, Danny allowed himself to meditate for the few moments it would take to let his rage die down enough to comfort his brother.

Once it had, he opened his eyes again and pressed his forehead to Damian’s.

“I swear I will protect you, ahki. Ra’s al Ghul will not taste relief in death.”

The next day Danny watched invisibly as Talia dipped Damian in the Lazarus pits to heal him before putting him on a plane to Gotham.

~~~

“You have made me proud, Daniel.”

Ra’s watched as Daniel bowed, having taken out a squadron of elite ninja for his tenth birthday.

The ninja were still breathing- Ra’s was sure Daniel had spared them so as to not weaken the ranks of the League he was set to inherit.

It pleased him that his young grandson was so wise, despite his youth. His older brother had no such wisdom- rash and impatient, still full of emotional weakness. Ra’s would no longer claim that boy as his grandson once Daniel passed his newest test.

With a wave of his hand, several ninja brought forth a young man. They had managed to kidnap Richard Grayson from under the nose of the Bat, and now Daniel would kill the other.

“Grandfather?”

“This is your Father’s oldest ward. He is a usurper to a place that rightfully should be yours. Kill him.”

Daniel walked towards the bound man, and the ninja holding the captive backed away respectfully.

“May I ask him a question, Grandfather?”

Ra’s nodded. There was no harm in it.

The boy drew his sword and stepped around the man, holding the blade to his neck.

“Tell me, Grayson. Is Damian well?”

The lilt in his voice spelled danger for Damian, and Ra’s could barely contain his grin at Daniel’s ferocity.

“He is protected,” the kneeling man forced out. “You won’t harm a hair on his head.”

Daniel smiled, not unlike a shark.

“I know.”

Before Ra’s could blink, Richard Grayson’s bonds had fallen to the floor as if he had turned into a ghost, and Daniel’s sword was stabbed into the dirt between the Demon Head’s feet.

“We are leaving, Ra’s, and you will not stop us.”

The venom in his calm grandson’s voice when Daniel said his name made Ra’s pause, but only for a moment.

At a gesture, ninja poured out into the courtyard, intent on recapturing Nightwing and taking down the heir to the Demon.

Seconds before the ninja collided with the two, Daniel grinned, his eyes locked straight on Ra’s, grabbed Grayson’s hand, and the two vanished.

~~~

Dick was… Confused didn’t quite cut it. His day had been a disaster, and then this tiny meta who looked like a carbon copy of Damian appeared.

“So… You a clone?”

“No.”

“Oh. Uh. What are we doing, by the way?”

The boy smiled serenely at him, and then continued his work.

“Jacking a plane.”

“You’re like, eight.”

The boy shrugged.

“If you like.”

“Where are we going?”

“Gotham.”

“Who are you?”

The boy turned and put his hands on his hips, and Dick was starkly reminded of Bruce by the posture and facial expression.

“Look, Grayson, I get it, you’re confused. But if you don’t shut up and let me finish this wiring, we’ll never get you back to Gotham before the League catches up.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

The boy turned back around and continued his wiring.

“Call me Danny. Too many fruitloops call me Daniel.”

Dick expected a long flight ahead of them.

~~~

Damian was strapping on the last of his gear to go rescue Richard from the League of Assassins when the man himself strolled into the batcave, looking tired but no worse for wear.

“Dick!”

Batman- no, he took his cowl off- Father threw himself across the room to assess the health of his son.

Damian started unstrapping his gear.

“How did you get free?”

“We apparently had a man on the inside?”

“Had?”

“He blew his cover to save me.”

“Nightwing, report. Where is this man now?”

“I was landing the plane. Nice digs, dad.”

The cave fell silent, but for the ringing of the batarangs Damian dropped as he spun to face the newcomer.

“Not sure what I think of the ‘cave’ vibe you have going on, though.”

“Daniel?”

Daniel met Damian’s eyes, and a look Damian had never seen on his little brother broke out on the boy’s face.

A true, genuine, joyful smile.

“Akhi!”

Damian pulled out his sword and held it towards the stranger in his brother’s body.

“Who are you?”

The boy laughed.

“I’m a little weird now, right? It’s okay, Damian, it’s me.”

“What was the last thing you said to me.”

Damian felt that was a good question. No one but Daniel would know.

“I said I would protect you, and that Ra’s al Ghul would not experience a pleasant afterlife.”

“That-“

“Isn’t quite it, I know. Still true, though. I brought the Lazarus pits with me. Ra’s can’t use them anymore.”

Damian heard Father and Drake choke at Daniel’s words. This was Daniel, despite his complete personality change. No one had been with them when Daniel had made his promise.

“Since when were you a god of death?”

Daniel laughed.

“It’s a long story, Ahki.”

Damian sheathed his sword and held out a hand.

“Come then, habibi, tell me.”

“Can I have a burger to go with the story? I’m starving."

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x batman #damian wayne #danny fenton #batman

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sato111u · 7 months

Text

rich boyfriend gojo, who is 8-9 years older than reader (who is a master degree’s student in this fic)!

sees you for the first time on the lobby of one of his big chain hotels.

a cup of black expresso in the table in front of you while you worked on a project.

he approaches you confidently, fully transparent about his intentions.

expresses his feelings, by saying you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life, and how he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

he managed to get your phone number, and a few days later, gojo politely asks you out on a date.

gojo was always a true gentleman, picking you up, opening doors for you, taking you home and making sure you go to sleep safe and sound.

but there was something else that brought gojo immense pleasure. taking care of you financially.

gojo always had money. since the moment he was born, he had already his life taken care of.

spending a few millions was like nothing to him.

but there was something about spending money on you that made gojo’s heart feel so warm, even if it was a few dollars on acrylics. it brought a feeling of accomplishment, knowing he was taking care of his girl. he felt his stomach doing cartwheels when you sweetly thanked him, your gentle eyes looking up to him.

far into the relationship, gojo made sure he was paying for your education, and other expenses you had, such as acrylics, salon appointments, dinners with your girlfriends, etc…

but at first you felt uncomfortable, and expressed to him that you genuinely liked him, and you were not with him just for the money. he simply respected you and asked you just to accompany him so he could buy new suits, telling you that your opinion on the matter was more than important.

and there you were sitting pretty on the expensive chair watching your boyfriend try on suits.

after that, gojo innocently guided you to other stores, to see if anything would catch your attention.

and for your surprise, gojo wanted to buy almost everything you layed your eyes on.

a few mall visits later, and you were already more comfortable with this idea.

having your tall, attractive boyfriend, enter lingerie stores with you, making everyone in the store feel slightly uncomfortable.

gojo, with no shame, would point at the most sexy lingerie’s in the store and confidently say “this would look so good on you princess, let’s buy this in red, black and white. maybe blue too so it can match my eyes” as he lowers himself down to give you a quick kiss.

passing by fancy clothing shops, stopping and pointing at dresses and affirm that he was 100% sure that the dress was made for you, which was an excuse to buy it in at least two different colors.

the dates were always super romantic, either taking you to really nice restaurants, or going more for a casual vibe, taking you to museums, walks on cute parks and so much more. and of course, everything was always taken care of.

he loved bringing you to his apartment. cuddling with you on his big king size bed. playing with the strap of the cute pijama he bought you, as he fought against his sleepiness. loved to fall asleep on top of your chest, making him feel safe and loved.

waking up to you playing with his undercut, telling him that he needed to wake up or else he would be late for work. but what difference did it make? he was the CEO after all.

you made his house feel like a home. your love was such a beautiful energy, and everytime you left, he felt like his house was empty.

“satoru, baby, if you don’t get up i’m going to by squashed by you!” you said giggling. gojo was laying on top of you, head in between you breasts.

“'m so cold … ion wanna leave…” gojo said, still half asleep, hugging you tighter.

“then how about i change positions with you hm?” you said caressing the side of his face.

“mkay” gojo slowly got up, guiding your hips so you could lay on top of him. he didn’t wanna waste a single second without you being on top of him.

you gently sit on his lap, and lower your head to his chest. one of his hands instinctively goes on your lower back, while the other one plays with your hair.

“can i ask you something?” gojo said, his voice sounding a little bit more awake.

“yes” you said.

“do you want to move in with me?” he asked.

“you don’t need to answer right now, but i really needed to ask you. the last 10 months have been so great, all because of you. you make me want to be a better person, with better habits and better experiences. waking up without you on my side feels wrong, therefor i ask. would you like to live with me?”

read the bonus here

IN MY DREAMS, I HAVE A PLAAANNNN IF I GOT ME A WEALTHY MAAAANNNNN

anyways ty for reading 😮‍💨🙏

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navybrat817 · 4 months

Text

Dark and Light

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Word Count: Over 2.65k

Warnings: Threat of dubcon/noncon, minor character death, violence, canon divergent, captivity, brainwashing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: It's been almost 3 years since the last part of Soldat and Sparrow. Are you lovelies still interested? ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @silkholland . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The cell they kept you in this time was larger than your last. It didn't make it any less uncomfortable. The thick gray walls surrounding you made the room suffocatingly quiet and hollow. You only knew the color thanks to the singular lightbulb in the center of the ceiling, too high for you to try and make a weapon out of the glass. Without windows, you didn't know it was dark or light outside.

There was no escape, but you couldn't give up hope.

It was maddening not knowing the time of day as you played the waiting game on the worn mattress in between meals and sleeping. The screams of your lover played on a morbid loop in your mind and you had to will yourself to not let tears surface. Other than temporary relief for your emotions and aching heart, crying would do you no good. It never did.

What you needed to do was focus.

The man on the bridge.

He triggered something inside of the Winter Soldier. Something Hydra wanted to keep locked away. But what was it?

Bucky. He called him Bucky. He knew him. But how?

Two hard knocks on the door pushed the thought away before it swung open. Narrowing your eyes as Brock walked in, you wondered if he could’ve been a good man in another life and fought for the people who needed it most the way he pretended to. This wasn’t that life though. He chose his side.

The wrong side.

“You know, I don’t get it,” he said, crossing his arms as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t hide the lust from his eyes as he looked you over. “I mean, the Asset does his job well, but it’s like he forgets all about being a soldier when he’s deep in your pussy.”

“What can I say? I guess my pussy’s just that good,” you sneered, not in the mood for his taunts or anything else.

“Is that right? Maybe he should fuck your ass next to get the stick out of it,” he snapped back. “Or are you too stuck up for that?”

Pierce had a range of prostitutes lined up to satisfy his soldiers, but Brock didn’t hide how pissed off he was that you were “given” to the Asset after that fateful training day. He claimed it was special treatment. He dropped the issue almost as quickly as it was brought up, which led you to believe he was either reprimanded or given something to shut him up.

“Is that what bothers you, Rumlow? That I'd rather fuck him than you?” You asked, tilting your head as you regarded him. “And just so we’re clear, I’ll never want you.”

Brock clenched his fists as he took a step forward. “You really are a fucking-”

“Let her be,” a melodic voice ordered behind him, making you stiffen as he moved out of the way.

The doctor, or Doc as most called him, stepped into the room with a kind smile on his face. Unassuming in stature, you knew better from the start than to judge him by appearance. The man was a snake in the grass ready to spread his venom to unsuspecting victims.

“How are you?” He asked.

You kept your eyes on him as he moved closer, doing your best not to show any emotion. The doctor somehow made you more uncomfortable than Rumlow and that said something. “How do you think I'm doing?”

“Hmm. Not well, I'm sure.”

“You guessed correctly,” you said.

You didn’t know why he bothered asking. Maybe he thought he was better than the others because he didn't physically hurt you. If anything, his indifference to the evil around him made it worse. It told you that he either justified or accepted it.

Either way, he disgusted you.

“Don't worry. You'll have the Soldat back soon and I’m sure you'll feel all better,” he assured you.

“You wiped him,” you reminded him, your voice cracking.

His screams echoed in your mind again, your heart aching as you tried to block it out. When pain knocked on the door, it didn't wait for an answer. It broke it down and made itself at home. But in the pain Hydra inflicted, the soldier found solace with you and you found the same with him. The light for each other within the darkness.

While you failed to protect him and couldn't stop what they did to his mind, you had to believe you’d help heal his soul once you had him back.

“We did indeed as we have many times.”

You knocked his hand away as he tried to place it on your shoulder, your stomach turning from his words. “Don't touch me.”

He held his hands up in surrender as he took a step back. “I mean no harm.”

“All of you mean harm,” you whispered.

The Soldat was your only bright spot in this nightmare. Ironic that he thought you were fire, bright and warm. The truth was you burned because of him. He was your eternal fuel that made the flames grow.

“I only want what is best for you,” Doc argued, his eyes void of any emotional depth behind his rimless glasses.

“Liar,” you whispered.

An exasperated sigh left his lips. “Now, now. I really do want what’s best for you. Don't you realize how important you are?”

“I'm not important,” you said. You never were. “Pierce made it clear that I don't have a purpose.”

But if that was the case, why were you still alive?

The doctor's chuckle made your blood run cold. “That's what he wants you to think. You see, the more they cut you down and make you question your worth, the easier it becomes for you to comply. Because by that point you’re so desperate for survival you'll do what is asked of you,” he explained, pushing his glasses up. “Yet you still only comply to an extent. It’s rather fascinating.”

He stared at you like you were a bug under a magnifying glass. And wasn’t that what you were to him? An experiment or something for him to study? “I haven't complied. I won't.”

“Oh, but you have,” Brock chimed in. You almost forgot he was still in the room. “Those missions you completed. The lives you took.”

Bile rose in your throat as images of violence and blood flashed in your mind. They would haunt you for the rest of your days. “No, I didn't want to hurt anyone.”

“Of course, you didn't. It’s as I said: desperation. You did what you had to do to survive,” the false sympathy from Doc grated on your nerves. “Don't let the weight of those souls wear you down. They were meaningless. But you? Oh, you are meant for more.”

He attempted to touch you again, but his hand moved toward your stomach this time instead of your shoulder. “I said don't touch me!” you snapped, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you. As much as you wanted to hurt him, Brock was still there and could do a lot of damage.

The doctor pressed his lips together before he smirked. “Pierce and Rumlow are right. You have a hold on him. Even with his programming and orders, it all comes back to you,” he said, your body going rigid. Where was he going with this? “And it’s you that we want to carry his child.”

Your stomach churned again, but you weren’t sure if it was more at the thought that he wanted to force a child on you or that he’d try and force your soldier to impregnate you. “Care to repeat that?”

“You’re going to carry his child. You’re going to give birth to the perfect soldier. And you’ll keep doing so,” he said slowly like you were a petulant child, standing tall and proud as your mouth fell open in horror. “You’re the perfect incubator.”

Your stomach sank as you looked between him and Brock, wishing it was a sick joke. “No, I won't.”

“You think you have a choice?” The doctor questioned nonchalantly, like he was asking what you wanted for dinner. “And do you think the Asset needs to remember exactly what you mean to him to fuck you? I guess we'll see if he does. Science versus instinct.”

The room became eerily silent as the doctor gave you his first genuine smile since he walked in. You struggled to get your bearings and process the words. That was why you were still alive. They were going to make you an incubator. Force your soldier to breed you. They would take another choice away from him. And raise your children in captivity.

In Hell on earth.

“Well, that shut the bitch up,” Brock chuckled.

Before you could think, you launched yourself from the bed. The doctor’s eyes widened as you tackled him to the ground, unable to brace himself as you landed the first blow to his face. You straddled his waist, the second hit knocking his glasses away as fury rushed through your veins like a wildfire. He didn’t try to fight you off.

You could’ve cried. Screamed. Anything to keep him from making his twisted plan a reality.

The sound of a gun cocking stopped you from hitting Doc a third time.

“I won’t kill you,” Brock said, your fist frozen in the air as you looked toward him. Your chest heaved as you stared down the barrel of the gun. “But I’ll make it hurt if you don’t get up.”

“Go ahead,” you said through clenched teeth.

The doctor coughed, but held up a hand. “No shooting,” he croaked as you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “No harming her.”

Brock’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. “She can still lie down and take a cock if-”

None of you could have foreseen the metal hand punching through the wall. Before you could blink, the hand closed around Brock’s shoulder and pulled him through, his cry of pain silenced almost immediately by the sound of a gunshot. The doctor beneath you was long forgotten as you scrambled to your feet just in time to see your soldier step into the room through the hole, his face obscured by his typical mask and goggles.

But you felt his gaze on you as he stood like a dark angel ready to avenge you.

Hope launched into your chest like a shooting star as you smiled. “Soldat,” you whispered.

He came for you. Found you. But the star that filled your heart quickly faded when he didn’t move toward you or say “Sparrow”.

The dread grew stronger when he holstered his gun and took out his signature knife.

Was this the beginning of the end?

The doctor smiled as he wiped the blood from his lap and slowly stood up. “You really think he’s here to save you? Oh, no. He just doesn’t want any competition near his breeding partner,” he taunted as your eyes stung. “Back from your assignment early, Soldat? Good. Now you can complete your mission.”

The Winter Soldier tilted his head before he took a step forward.

You remained rooted to the spot, casting your fear that he’d force himself on you aside. “Bucky,” you said, using the name you heard. His real name. A tear rolled down your cheek when he flinched and tightened his fingers around the handle. “I’m not going to fight you. Or hurt you. Do you know why?”

Another step forward, your heart pounded as you stood as still as a statue. “Why?” He asked, the word clear to you through his mask.

The tears flowed freely as he stopped in front of you and slipped his goggles off, your heart breaking when he dispassionately looked at you. “Because I’m your Sparrow. Remember? My fire burns for you and you only,” you told him and pointed to your chest. You needed him to remember. “We swore we’d be free together. Somehow.”

“Don’t listen to her. Breed her and be done with it,” the doctor ordered.

The soldier’s brows furrowed before his metal hand came up around your neck, not squeezing or bringing you any harm.

But it felt like a warning.

“You won’t hurt me,” you breathed out, placing your hand on his arm as you kept your panic at bay. “They won’t break me. And I won’t leave you,” you promised, echoing his words when he took you the first time. “I’m yours.”

No matter what they forced him to do to you, he would never be to blame.

The doctor had the gall to smack the flesh arm when he made no move to shove you down on the bed or remove your clothes. “Finish your mission. Now.”

“It’s okay,” you mouthed.

Somehow, it would be okay.

“My mission…” the soldier began mechanically, not taking his eyes off you as he plunged the knife into the doctor’s jugular. You weren’t sure you could breathe. “Is to keep my Sparrow safe.”

An intake of air caught your sob as the metal hand fell away, the doctor collapsing as he tried in vain to stop the blood from leaving his body. It was useless. And a kinder death than he deserved.

“Hail,” he gurgled, his fingers stained red. “Hydra.”

“Just shut up and die,” you snapped as your soldier ripped his mask off. “Soldat,” you said, softer, almost crying all over again.

“Sparrow,” he whispered.

There was nothing gentle or sweet in the way pressed his lips to yours, but it was warm and safe as he pulled you against you. Your arms slipped around him as you returned the kiss, your cheeks still wet from crying. For a second there, you thought you’d lost him. For once, fate decided not to be cruel to you.

It brought you back together.

“I’m sorry I couldn't get to you sooner,” he said when he allowed you a moment to breathe, quickly scanning as much of you as he could. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m okay. I just thought…” you trailed off with a shake of your head. “You came back to me.”

But how?

“I’ll always find you, Sparrow,” he said, touching your cheek as your heart swelled. “Steve helped me remember a lot of things. Including you.”

“The man on the bridge? You saw him again?” You asked before an alarm sounded, the blaring force echoing in the room.

“Yes. And his friend is sending reinforcements, so we need to go,” he said over the noise, nudging the doctor’s body with the toe of his boot before he stepped on his glasses.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

Where could you go since you no longer had a home? You had so many questions, but understood that you’d have to wait for answers. Getting out of there in one piece was your priority.

“Somewhere safe,” he answered, fear flickering in his eyes for a moment. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” you promised without hesitation. And anything else you had to offer him.

The next kiss was one of gentleness, relief, and thanks. “One thing before we leave.”

“What’s that?” You asked as he took your hand.

Love and determination filled his eyes as he glanced back at you and put a gun in your other hand. “We burn it down.”

You could hardly contain the fire inside you as you smiled. “Together.”

You didn’t know what the reinforcements would do or what would await you once you got out. It didn’t matter. Your soldier found his way back to you and you would follow wherever he went. The two of you would finally leave Hydra behind.

In a pile of rubble and ash.

But you’d find out soon enough that the man on the bridge wouldn't let your soldier go either.

I'll try not to let so much time pass before the next update. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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forbidden-sunlight · 1 year

Note

Can I have a yandere Poseidon with a Muichiro reader?

With him reacting that reader was able to give him a fatal injury?

warning: violence, ooc, muichiro!fem!reader.

Poseidon refused to believe that a mortal soul could have the strength and the reputation to stand in the audience chamber of Hades’ palace, let alone a swordswoman even be granted permission to be by his side as a guard.

Like him, Hades is the very definition of a king: one without supporters and no need for scheming. He fought alone against the Titans during the Gigantomachy, and ruled over the underworld without so much as batting an eyelid whenever a crisis emerged. So why? The tyrant of the ocean thought irked. So why in the world would my brother need someone like that when we gods are already the definition of perfection?

Yes, it is a terrible thing that the Bifrost had been destroyed by the wretched human Nostradamus, but surely another god could more easily protect the gates between Helheim and Valhalla than an organization that had been created to exterminate demons?

No. He refused to believe it. Hades was much smarter than this. And he will prove it, in a duel. He raised his trident and challenged the spacey-eyed human…who didn’t even seem to be listening at all.

“I refuse.” The mortal said bluntly. “Lord Hades has not given permission to have a duel in his own audience chamber, nor would he ever do so because it would be a pain to clean up afterwards. The servants would get mad too. My blade is to be drawn against demons, not a god. And I happen to like my position, so…I’m not gonna. I’m respectfully declining.”

“[First Name], we have discussed this already,” Hades said stonily. “Watch your tongue around my guests.” The mortal immediately went silent, [Eye Color] orbs gazing off into the distance.

The lord of the underworld sighed. “Apologies, little brother, she can be a bit -”

“She has disrespected the ones who are superior to her in every way.” Poseidon growled, pointing the tip of his trident at her sinewy frame. “And she will pay for that insult with her life. Or she will prove herself worthy of standing by your side, right here, and I will forgive these transgressions against us.”

“It is Lord Hades’ decision to entrust me with the responsibility of looking after the Bifrost.” [First Name] said. “I refuse to waste my energy -”

‘[First Name], do it. Now.”

“Fine.”

Poseidon watched as the tiny mortal dressed from head to toe in black descended down the steps of the dias, unsheathing her sword with a push of her thumb. “Try to land a lethal hit on me. Refrain from using any attacks that could damage the audience chamber.” She said, ignoring the icy frown on Poseidon’s face, daring to look at him with that spaced-out, bored expression. Poseidon got into position, raising his trident to the level of his eyes and waited for the human to strike.

And she did. Not once, but twice; the hilt of her sword rammed into his solar plexus, then she elbowed him in the chin. Quickly regaining his balance, Poseidon thrusted his trident forward, aiming at the center of her body. She sidestepped and rammed her sword into his right side, ribbons of crimson flowing through the cut.

Hades was, of course, furious and glared at her icily. She just blinked, shrugging her shoulders before sheathing the sword back into its teal scabbard.

“He wanted me to prove that I was capable of doing my job, and I have done so. He’s a god anyway, that wound will heal quickly. He promised that anything I did would be forgiven, so it worked out in the end. If that is all, may I go? It’s about time for the rotation of shift change at the Bifrost. I need to make sure everything is secure.”

Hades sighed tiredly, waving her off with a flick of his hand. Poseidon watched in stunned silence as she bowed deeply to him, gliding across the floor and out of the audience chamber, shutting the massive door behind her. The black lacquered scabbard of her sword shimmered a dark blue beneath the chandelier’s light, if only for a brief moment.

Although his older brother was profusely apologizing and making promises to properly discipline the Demon Slayer, Hades’ words did not reach Poseidon’s ears. Curiosity, desire, and excitement thrummed in his blood even as it continued to seep onto the floor.

He wanted her. He needed her in his court beneath the ocean waves, to hear her silver tongue and bask in her loyalty towards him, to obey his orders without question. She is…perfection.

Surely Hades did not need her any longer if there are other Demon Slayers to take up the mantle of protecting the Bifrost, yes?

#forbidden sunlight #yandere x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #snv poseidon #ror poseidon #request #yandere shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #poseidon x reader #yandere poseidon #muichiro!reader #yandere male #snv x reader

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grandprixwinnerlandonorris · 7 months

Text

Silver Springs | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x ex!fem!reader

Requested: yes

Warnings: angsty with a hopeful ending

A/N: This is my first request ever and I hope I managed to fulfill the expectations. I took a little liberty and played with the style and format and just listening and studying the song made me want to write it this way. I'm sorry if this isn't what anon had in mind when requesting this so with that make sure to leave as much details as possible when requesting things if you want something specific. Feedback on this would be very much appreciated. 🥺🧡

You’ve found yourself thinking about Lando more regularly as of late. It has been ten months since your break up and you don’t remember feeling like this at the time. You guess you were in a state of denial, trying to convince yourself that the relationship was worth saving despite knowing that it wasn’t.

Of course, in the beginning everything was like a fairy tale. At first it was so wonderful that every ounce of you was convinced that it couldn't possibly get any better. And then, slowly, inevitably, the house of cards collapsed. Maybe that should've been your first clue, but every time you would stick your rose colored glasses further up your nose and focus harder on all those positive aspects of the relationship.

Time spent with Lando was the best time of your life. He always gave you the best he could offer. Taking you out on dates, vacations, accompanying him to races across the world... He truly gave you that only-girl-in-the-world experience. He was always there, present. Until he wasn't.

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Lando Norris. But there was no way you could've prepared yourself for how it would all end up.

He was a Formula One driver and his life was always going to be busy. The paparazzi, the rumors, the constant pressure of being in the public eye. It all took a toll on your relationship.

But what you didn't anticipate was how much time he would start spending away from you. It started off with a few missed calls and texts, but soon he was gone for days at a time without a word.

You tried to be understanding, knowing how demanding his job was, but it was hard not to feel neglected and unimportant. You tried to talk to him about it, but he always seemed to have an excuse or an apology that would temporarily ease your worry.

As the months went on, you began to realize that the relationship was becoming more and more one-sided. You were always the one making compromises, always the one putting in the effort to make things work.

One night, as Lando was getting ready to leave for yet another race, you finally confronted him about it. You told him how you felt and how you needed more from him. But instead of trying to work things out, he simply brushed you off and left without a second thought.

For the first time, you began to wonder if maybe it was time to let go. Maybe it was time to walk away from a relationship that was causing you more pain than happiness.

It wasn't an easy call. You were still in love with him and a part of you wanted to believed that he loved you too. But you couldn't keep living like that when you knew you deserved more. So, after a lot of tears and internal conflict, you made the decision to end things with him.

He took it calmly. “Maybe it’s for the best. We’re at different stages in life-”

But you weren’t interested in reasoning. You were done.

Few days later as you sat alone in your room thinking about him, you couldn't help but wonder if it could all be different. Maybe if you had just tried harder, fought for the relationship a little more, things could've ended up differently. Maybe you could've been the one he came home to every night, instead of just another girl in his life. But relationships were a two way street and you couldn’t do it just on your own.

Months went by and slowly but surely, you started to heal. You threw yourself into work and hobbies, spending time with friends and family. You had to reduce your social media and tv time, fearing you’d accidentally see something about him, or maybe even search up his name on your own that would ruin all the progress you just made. Mutual friends had to be cut off too. Everything that even had a slightest relation to him had to be eliminated from your life so you wouldn't crumble back into old habits.

Finally, you were ready to try dating again. It felt strange to be putting yourself out there again, going out on dates here and there. And although nothing ever really clicked, it was working to distract and make you forget. Up until now.

He just crept into your thoughts on a random Tuesday. You scoffed, shaking them away. Then little (in)significant things started to happen. Like seeing number 4 everywhere in various combinations. You would turn on the radio and first thing you’d hear would be the song you two proclaimed to be yours one drunk night in a bar.

“Are you kidding me?!” you spat, turning the radio off. It wasn’t even a love song.

Dreams began next and they were so life-like that it was almost as if you had gone back in time. They would be so vivid, reminding you of his touch and sound of his voice. In one of them, you would be back together and he would be holding you in his arms. You’d feel safe and loved, just like you used to. One of those nights you woke up to the sound of his laughter echoing in your ears, but when you turned over it was just you and the void of the bedside he used to fill. Your eyes shifted to a digital clock on the nightstand. In hauntingly bold red it read 04:44 am.

And you really should’ve known better than to turn the tv on on weekends. Not every weekend, you reminded yourself, but really, what were the odds that you would catch him racing that Sunday?

You tried your best to ignore it all. Tried to push Lando back to the farthest corners of your mind. But every time you tried, he came back stronger, like a boomerang you couldn't escape from. It was like he was haunting you, his memory a ghost that refused to be exorcised.

It was frustrating. It was maddening. You didn't want to think about him anymore. You didn't want to care. You didn't want to love him.

When it all became too much, you decided to go for a walk to clear your head. You grabbed your coat and headed out the door, the cold afternoon air hitting you as you stepped outside. As you walked down the street, you realized that you were headed in the direction of the park where you and Lando used to go on picnics and take walks together. There was no point in avoiding going there now. Every part of the town was marked with the two of you in one way or the other.

As you walked through the park, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you. You remembered how happy you used to be with Lando by your side, how the two of you laughed and talked for hours on end. You wondered if he ever thought about those moments, if he ever missed you. If he ever thought about you just in general. Your heart felt heavy as you thought about how things could have been different if only he had been willing to put in more effort into your relationship.

A sudden movement caught your eye and you turned to see a man walking towards you, his eyes locked onto yours. Your heart leaped out of your chest and you found yourself frozen in place. But the man who passed you wasn’t him. He might’ve had his hair or his eyes, but it wasn’t him. You closed your eyes and sighed a sigh of relief.

I’m starting to see things now, you thought to yourself, shaking the image away. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that type of encounter just yet anyway.

After a few minutes, you continued on your way and eventually found yourself in front of a cozy cafe. You looked up at the simple yet inviting storefront and decided this was as good a place as any to take a break. You opened the door and stepped inside, the warm atmosphere immediately embracing you like an old friend.

The cafe was quite busy with customers, but despite the crowd it still had an intimate feel to it. The smell of fresh coffee accompanied by the sound of jazz music created a relaxed atmosphere that made you forget all about your worries for a while. You walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of your favorite coffee blend before sitting down at one of the tables in the far corner.

He had thought about you a lot that summer. It wasn't just the memory of you that lingered in his mind; it was the way you made him feel. He missed the way your hand fit perfectly in his, and the sound of your laughter that could light up a room. He missed the long conversations you used to have over the phone when he was away, and the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about something you were passionate about.

He had missed you, more than he was willing to admit to himself. He had tried to ignore his feelings, to push them down and pretend that he was perfectly okay without you. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the memories of your time together.

Sometimes the air would smell like your hair, the wind would caress his cheeks like you used to. He remembered the picnics in the park, the late night conversations, the lazy Sunday mornings spent cuddled up in bed on his weekends off before he would have to pack for another race week. He remembered how happy he used to be with you by his side, and he cursed himself for not realizing how much he needed you until it was too late.

Being without you on tracks was the worst. He didn’t know it would be like that when he had you calling before and after every session, giving him a false sense of security. He was racing for himself, building his career, but he couldn't focus on anything else. The roar of the engines and the adrenaline rush of it all losing their appeal without you there to share it with him. He had to force himself to keep going, to keep racing, but every achievement felt hollow without you to celebrate with him.

But he never reached out to you. He never tried to make things right, even when he knew he was wrong. He was too prideful, too scared of rejection, too afraid of admitting that he had made a mistake. So he stayed away, hoping that time and distance would heal the wounds.

It was late autumn now and after yet another decent weekend, he decided to fly home for his week off and recharge. Maybe time spent with family and friends would help and stop you from creeping in his thoughts.

As he settled into his seat on the plane, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. His career progressed drastically since your split, but what did it matter? He only had himself to share his success with.

The flight was uneventful, and before he knew it, he was back in his hometown. He stepped off the plane and was greeted by the familiar faces of his family. Their hugs and laughter made him realize he was making yet another mistake. He missed you more than ever, and being home without you will only make it worse.

Lando tried to keep busy by spending time with his loved ones and focusing on his training. But it was like trying to hold back the tide with a broom, he couldn't escape the memories of you. The sound of your voice, the touch of your hand, the warmth of your embrace. It was all too vivid in his mind, haunting him day and night.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he drove out in his car, desperate to find a way to move on. He had no destination in mind, and maybe driving to clear his head wasn’t ideal, but it was the only other thing he loved that he had left. And it was like universe was having a laugh at him, when he turned on the radio it was your song that was playing. He thought of changing the station, but his fingers lingered too long in the air over the button that he ended up listening to the whole thing.

As the last notes of the song faded away, Lando let out a heavy sigh and pulled over to the side of the road. He found himself parked in front of a cozy cafe that he had never noticed before. It looked warm and inviting, the smell of coffee wafting out to greet him. He found himself drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

Without much thought, he opened the door and stepped inside. The sound of jazz music greeted him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over him as he took in the warm atmosphere. He walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee before finding a seat at one of the tables.

Looking around, he spotted you purely accidentally, sipping coffee and reading a book. His heart skipped a beat as he watched you sit alone in the far corner. You looked beautiful, just as he remembered, with your hair falling in loose waves around your face. He couldn't believe it was you. The one person he had been thinking about for months was sitting just a few tables away from him.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, his heart racing with emotions he thought he had buried deep within. He tried to catch your eye, but you didn't look up from the book. He felt his heart sink as he realized that you didn't even know he was there.

Lando hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Part of him wanted to approach you and try to start a conversation, while the other part of him couldn't bear the thought of seeing you again after all this time. He had hurt you deeply, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the consequences of his actions.

But as he sat there, lost in thought, he suddenly realized that he couldn't just sit idly by and watch you from a distance. He had to do something, even if it meant facing his fears head-on. It was now or never.

He got up from his seat and slowly walked over to your table, his heart beating faster with every step. You finally looked up from your book as he approached, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw who was standing in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Quickly you made a mental check on what day it was. Early Friday evening.

Lando sighed, nerves getting the best of him as he stood before you. “I’m… I came home for my week off.” he said, his voice sounding small and unsure.

“You have a week off,” you weren’t sure if you were asking him, accusing him, laughing at your own stupidity or a secret fourth thing.

He shifted awkwardly on his feet, his eyes unable to meet yours. “You’re saying it like it’s a crime,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I just didn’t expect to see you here on a weekend.” you defended, realizing you were setting yourself for a trap. Not every weekend.

“Were you hoping I was out of the country?” he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm. He knew he was being defensive, but he couldn't help it. Being around you made him feel vulnerable, exposed.

Lando's question hung heavily in the air, his eyes still fixed on you. You felt a pang of guilt, knowing full well that you had been hoping to avoid him for a little while longer. But now that he was standing in front of you, you couldn't deny the pull you still felt towards him.

"I don't know what I was hoping for," you admitted, your eyes finally meeting his. "I just know I didn't expect to see you here."

"Neither did I," he said softly, taking a step closer to you. "But now that I am, can we talk?"

You looked at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. He looked good, but different somehow. He seemed more vulnerable, more open than you remembered. It made your heart ache for him, but you tried to push the feeling away.

"Okay," you said, nodding your head. "Let's talk."

Lando let out a sigh of relief, his tense shoulders relaxing as he took a seat opposite of you.

“So, how have you been?” he asked, shuffling his feet slightly.

“I’ve been okay,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just trying to keep busy.”

There was a moment of awkward silence between you as you both tried to gather your thoughts. You couldn't help but notice how much he had changed since the last time you saw him. His hair was shorter, and he looked like he had put on some muscle. But it was his eyes that caught your attention the most. They looked tired and distant, like he had been carrying a heavy burden for a long time.

“How are-How are things with you?” you choked out.

Lando let out a small laugh, but it sounded hollow to your ears. "Things have been good, I guess," he said, his eyes flickering towards yours for a moment before darting away. "Work has been keeping me busy."

You nodded, not sure what to say. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of him thriving without you. It didn't seem fair that he could move on so easily while you were still struggling in a way.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. "For everything. For how I treated you, for how I acted. I was a fool, and I should have never let you go."

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not.” he cut you off harshly. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve set my priorities straight.”

“But you did.” you smiled to hide the pain as you said that, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“I was wrong. I was so wrong.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lando could see the confusion and hurt written all over your face, and he knew that he had a lot to answer for. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts before he spoke again.

“I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry.” he said. “I should have fought for you, instead of letting my pride get in the way. I missed you more than I could ever say, and being away from you only made me realize how much I need you in my life.”

You looked at him skeptically, unsure if you could believe him after all the pain he had caused you. But as you looked into his eyes, you could see the sincerity and regret that shone through.

“I don't know if you're ready to forgive me, and I don't expect you to right away,” he continued. “But I had to come and tell you how I feel and to try to make things right. If you’ll let me.”

He looked down as he finished his speech. You sat a few moments in silence, letting it all sink in before leaning over and reaching for his hand.

As soon as your fingers interlocked with his, you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body. It had been so long since you had touched him, and it felt like coming home.

“Lando,” you called, wanting him to look at you. You only continued when he did. “I already forgave you. But as for the rest… I will need some time.” you said softly, not wanting to give him false hope. “But I appreciate your apology.”

"I understand," he said, squeezing your hand gently. "I'll give you all the time you need. Just know that I'm here whenever you're ready."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It wasn't a complete resolution, but it was a start. You sat in silence for a few more minutes, just holding each other's hands, before you finally pulled away.

"I should get going," you said, grabbing your book and standing up.

“Let me drive you home.” Lando said, standing up as well.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready to spend more time alone with him. But as you looked into his earnest and apologetic gaze, you couldn't help but nod in agreement.

"Okay," you said, a small smile creeping onto your face. "Let's go."

Lando walked you to his car, opening the door for you and then walking around to the driver's side. As he started the engine, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you. This was the same car he had driven you around in when you were together, and it felt strange to be sitting in it again.

The ride was mostly silent, with both of you lost in your own thoughts. But as you pulled up in front of your apartment building, Lando turned to you with a serious expression on his face.

"I know I have a lot to make up for," he said, his voice low and intense. “But I promise you, I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious about this. I want us to be together again, if you'll have me."

You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. It was true that you still had feelings for Lando, but you weren't sure if it was enough to give him another chance. You needed time to think, to process everything that had happened between you two.

"I appreciate your sincerity, Lando," you said finally, meeting his gaze. "But I need some time alone to figure things out. Can you give me that?"

"Of course," he said, nodding his head. "I'll respect your wishes. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief and gratitude towards him. Despite everything that had happened between you two, he still cared about your well-being. It was a comforting thought, and it made you realize that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for the two of you.

"Thank you, Lando," you said, giving him a small smile. "I'll talk to you soon."

With that, you got out of the car and walked towards your building, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. Part of you was relieved to have some space to think, while another part of you was still hopeful for a future with Lando.

As you walked up the stairs to your apartment, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held. Would you be able to start anew, or would you remain apart forever? Only time would tell, but for now, all you could do was take things one day at a time.

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anothertimdrakestan · 1 year

Note

Hi Elle!! Hope all is well 💕💕

Can I request a headcanon or fic of where Dick and y/n have been in a serious relationship for a few years and OC has become a “mom figure” to all the other batboys. So when the batboys misunderstand Dick and OC getting into a big fight somewhere, they both come home (either to their place or to the manor) to find that the batboys have moved/thrown out all of Dick’s things because they love OC that much??

Thank youuu ☺️

Ahhh this is such a cute little idea!! Thank you so so much for the request it’s lovely to see an old friend <333

Found Family - Dick Grayson x Reader

Steph gave you a sympathetic smile as she poured the rest of the wine bottle into your now empty glass. “What’s wrong hun? Because if it’s boy troubles I will personally castrate Richard if he hurt you.” Which only made you sigh as you nodded. Her eyes widened, you and Dick never ever fought, and this foreign emotional territory was a shock to you too- hence the wine.

“Dick asked me to move in with him, but I’m not ready to leave my place! I love Gotham, and I’m not sure Bludhaven is where I’m meant to be. But I also know I could never leave him. I just told him I needed more time to think and I think he took it really personally. It’s not that I’m not ready to live with him, I’m just not ready to leave my life here even if it is just a town over.” You said, happy to put into words the emotions swirling in your chest.

“What?! You are NOT leaving Gotham anytime soon. What on earth would I do without you here?” Steph exclaimed, putting down her glass to pick up her phone, fingers typing frantically.

Less than a minute later, Tim was jogging into the Manor kitchen, “Dick’s tryna take Y/N from us? Over my dead body.” And before you could tell him otherwise, the young hero burst out the room, clearly on a type of war path.

“No! I love Dick and you guys, Bludhaven is great! I just need-”

“Taking down Richard has always been on my bucket list.” Damian’s snarky voice echoed through the manor as he stalked out the same door as Tim. You scrambled up and after him, but Steph side stepped in front of you, “don’t you dare try to fix this, we’ve got it!” Which only made you more nervous for the future of your relationship.

Before you knew it, another bottle was opened, and the colors of the Manor living room were awfully fuzzy. You were pretty sure you’d seen Jason, Tim, and Damian zipping in and out of the manor, each repeatedly promising an increasingly violent demise for your boyfriend, who’s radio silence was only making you more anxious. Steph, while physically with you, was terrifyingly glued to her phone, sending text after text- even taking the occasional call, but she was speaking quiet enough that your tipsy-mind couldn’t process the words flying out of her mouth.

You truly weren’t sure how much time had passed when Dick burst through the manor shouting “Stephanie Brown where the hell did you hide her!” And before you could shriek with excitement, Dick appeared in front of you, his eyes frantic until he saw you were okay.

“Dickie!” You cooed, outstretching your arms so he would scoop you up into a hug. And he did. He was breathing heavy, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he took a deep inhale. You were just giddy to see your handsome man, squeezing him tighter, wrapping your legs around his waist, happy to be carried as you weren’t sure you could stand in your current state.

“What on earth did they do to you sweetheart,” Dick mumbled, walking back towards the kitchen so you could place you on a counter, you leaned back to look up at his eyes. He swiped a hand over your cheek, you assumed you were still warm from the alcohol.

“She’s. Fine. Can’t say the same about you you selfish monster,” Steph slurred her speech, pointing an accusatory finger at Dick who gave you both a confused look.

Almost like a sitcom, the three other boys burst into the room, as if on cue.

“Step away from the woman Grayson!” Jason shouted as Damian lobbed the nearest manor antique he could get his hands on at Dick, who of course caught it effortlessly, setting it down next to you on the counter.

“What the hell is going on?” Dick raised his voice, but Tim was already in between the two of you, pushing Dick backwards as Damian hopped up onto the counter next to you, silently handing you a glass of water which you graciously took, enjoying the plot unfolding before you.

“No questions at this time Richard, as Y/N’s personal advisor I’m here to state the case.” Tim began, Jason and Damian nodding in agreement. Steph had her phone out, clearly filming the entire argument.

Tim continued, “it has come to our attention that you intend to take Y/N from us.”

“I asked her to move in with me?” Dick looked exasperated but intrigued by the way his brothers had turned on him in your name.

“And in doing so, you’d be removing her from Gotham, and therefore the four of us!” Tim concluded, and at the statement, Jason, Steph, and Damian mumbled angry agreements.

Dick scoffed, “I’m sorry, I thought she was my girlfriend, and you guys love coming to Bludhaven! With Y/N there it’s more reason for everyone to spend more time over there.”

Damian piped up immediately, “we hate Bludhaven Richard, Y/N is the only thing that makes it manageable.”

Jason snorted, “ever realized we only go over for dinner when Y/N is visiting you? Or that Steph only wants Sunday bagels in Bludhaven cuz Y/N spends the weekends there? Did you seriously think we just went over for you?” You cringed as the harsh tone, but Dick didn’t look offended, rather, proud?

Dick opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. Tim spoke up again, “Don’t worry Richard, I’ve already mended the problem at hand.”

Now Dick spoke up, “what the hell did you brats do now”.

“To the Zeta Tube!” Jason called, scooping you and Damian up in one arm and sprinting towards the teleporter, with Dick screeching for him to put you down following close behind. For once, Damian wasn’t squirming out of Jason’s grasp, rather he had quietly grabbed your hand, saying “I hope you love your new home” to you right before the Zeta Tube activated.

When you came through, Jason set you and Damian down happily, and you were situated in a fully furnished apartment. Furnished with your and Dick’s combined furniture. You froze for a moment, feeling like you were in a different dimension until you notice the window in the apartment. You recognized the block corner instantly.

“We refurbished an old safe house! It’s south west Gotham, so close enough to Bludhaven that Dick can’t whine too much, but only a couple minutes drive, or instant Zeta Tube to the manor!” Tim exclaimed excitedly.

Damian piped up, “we stripped Dick’s apartment to the ground to furnish it! Not like either of you will be needing it anyway!”

Dick had been silent, drinking in the new view. But he came up beside you to stare out the window, “I think they just made a compromise for us, but I do want you to love it. What I should’ve said earlier, is that I don’t need to be in Bludhaven, I need to be with you. You’re my home Y/N.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you leaned back into his chest.

You spoke up, “I love it, and I love you, and I especially love you guys,” you turned around to face your family. Steph was grinning, Jason was nodding knowingly, Tim was off slightly adjusting furniture placements, and Damian was- wiping away a tear. Not worth pointing out, because he’d deny it anyway, but your heart was bursting knowing the little guy wanted you near just as badly as you wanted to be close to him.

“Tim! Get over here, it’s group hug time!” Dick called, throwing an arm around Jason and Steph while you scooped up Damian, who for the second time that day, wasn’t fighting back. Tim crashed into the hug and your swore you could feel your heart beating out of your chest with pride in your found family.

Tim’s phone vibrated and he shouted “Dick! You’re rich! The Bludhaven apartment just sold!” And Dick shrieked, “You put my apartment up for sale in a day!!” To which Damian shrugged, “not like there was anything in there after we were through.” Jason nodded in agreement saying: “yeah, you don’t even wanna know what plan B was if you said no to this place!” But Steph shushed him before he could divulge any more, most likely violent, secrets. You couldn’t help but grin knowing your family had your back no matter what, even if Dick was slightly concerned over his brother’s undying loyalty to you, it made staying in Gotham that much more worth it to you both.

“As your realtor I will be taking 15% of the profit! Gonna go meet the new tenants!” Tim called, beelining to the Zeta Tube before Dick could even try to tell him no. You gave Damian’s hair a ruffle, which he immediately tried to fix, as Jason and Steph nodded, knowing they could be over whenever, but you and Dick probably wanted a moment to get used to the new place.

And suddenly, it was quiet. The bustle of the Gotham streets was faint, and you walked through the apartment which was truly designed perfectly, imagining the dinner parties, late night adventures, and peaceful mornings you’d get to have in your new place.

“As much as I hate to admit it, they did good.” Dick broke the silence. You nodded in agreement, unable to wipe the heartfelt smile off your face, you gave him a peck and said, “They sure did, it feels good to be home.”

I hope you enjoyed!! Thank you again for the request!

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ihavemanyhusbands · 20 days

Text

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Bloody

PART ONE: DOG MEAT

Also on AO3

Mini-series masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Bounty Hunter!Reader

WC: 2.3k words

Series Summary: Hunting down your father’s killer – a powerful raider by the name of Axl – you end up being saved from a bad situation by none other than a ghoul. After finding out you have goals in common, you form an uneasy alliance with him, but things get much, much more complicated than that.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, THIS FIC IS 18+, Dead dove: do not eat, canon typical violence, the ghoul being the ghoul, swearing, drug mentions/use (chems), enemies to lovers, eventual smut, blood/gore mentions, sorta dom/sub dynamics, some mentions of cannibalism, angst, some whump, aaaand for now that’s all i can think of but lmk if another tag is needed.

A/N: This is my very first time writing for Cooper Howard/The Ghoul, so I’m still trying to learn how he talks/carries himself. Excited to be writing this little mini series though! :) hope you like <3

———-

Blood flowed relentlessly toward your head, making the upside-down world blur into a vivid amalgamation of color. The raiders' laughter sounded more like the barking of jackals, coming from all around you, disorienting you further.

As you fought to stay conscious, your muscles strained against the ropes that held you up, the rough material biting into your skin. Your head was hovering just a few inches away from the surface of murky, radioactive water. You could feel more than see something lurking in its depths, hungry, waiting for the right time to strike.

And you? You were the bait to lure it out.

Where had it all gone wrong, exactly?

Well, perhaps it had started with you being so overly confident. Sure, you had learned more than a few dirty tricks in your years as a bounty hunter – having to keep yourself both fed and alive while you completed your actual mission – but that didn’t mean you could fight off a large group of brawny, ruthless raiders all by yourself.

At the very least, you’d managed to kill one of them and injure another with your crossbow before you were rewarded with a strike across your face. Bright white stars ignited in your vision as you were quickly subdued and strung upside down from the rusted arm of a broken crane.

The worst part was, you’d barely had time to ask any of the questions you’d wanted to ask. You supposed you’d never been a great interrogator, anyway, but that was something to concern yourself with another time; If there even was another time.

“Come on, where’s the fucking gulper? We don’t have all fucking day here,” one of the raiders, a big-headed bald man, gruffed.

Another one of them, scrawnier and rat-like, let out an amused grunt. “Heh, should’ve just chopped her up and sold her as dog meat.”

“Still time for that, if it doesn’t come,” the bald one said. “Think we should lower her more? If her head’s underwater, she’ll thrash around and maybe get the gulper's attention.”

At this, panic flared within you once more. You tried moving your wrists, legs kicking more and more urgently. The raiders laughed again at your rendition of the gallowdance. Your head felt like it was on fire, dangerously nearing an explosion.

Distantly, you heard the creak of metal as the rope that held you aloft was adjusted. Your body jerked as it began to descend, the crown of your head now submerged. Your mind raced as you tried to find ways to save yourself, but it was getting harder and harder to think. You wanted to scream, but you were only able to make a weak, gurgling sound.

There was a loud splash, entirely too close for comfort. Jeering from the raiders as they prepared for a gruesome show. You began to accept your fate, dismay over your failure to complete your life’s mission greater than your fear of death.

But suddenly, you heard various gunshots in rapid succession. It’s a fucking ghoul! somebody shouted frantically. The confused screams of the raiders followed along with some answering shots. The heavy thump of bodies collapsing, one by one.

It was silent for a moment, except for a breeze settling the dust and your heartbeat pounding in your head like a drum. Then there was the soft clink of spurs as someone approached you, an old pair of cowboy boots appearing in your vision.

You tried craning your neck to get a better view of your supposed savior. You could barely see his face, the sun haloing his head like a saint’s. But there are no angels in the wasteland, you thought deliriously, only roaming devils searching for carrion to pick on.

His voice was low and raspy, with a southern drawl that was almost soothing, in a strange way. “Well, well… Ain’tcha just the prettiest hunk of meat I ever did see?”

A shuddery gasp escaped your throat as you felt the rope loosen a little more, fully submerging your head. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you were swallowed by darkness, immediately unconscious.

—-----------------------------------------

“See that there?” your father whispered, pointing up at a cluster of stars. “That’s the big dipper. And just below its tail is the little dipper. Do you see ‘em?”

You nodded, awed by the simple, ephemeral beauty of a still night sky. Your father’s soothing presence, his patient teachings, the world not so horrible when seen through his eyes.

“Like us,” you said with a smile. “Always together.”

His smile was sad then. You couldn’t remember it being that way, but memories tended to warp over time, didn’t they?

“Yes, sweetie. Always together,” he said, trying to sound as promising as possible. “But if we ever separated, for whatever reason, remember that you can look up at the sky at night, and you will always find us there.”

—------------------------------------------

You woke up sputtering, thinking you were still underwater. Your stomach lurched violently and your body twisted onto your hands and knees, retching. Spewing bile as yellow as the RadAway you found yourself hooked onto. Panting with both exertion and disorientation, searing pain lancing through your skull.

It was close to sunset, the sky beginning to burn orange and gold, the atmosphere cooler. You were still at the quarry where you’d first encountered the raiders, but you were a safe distance away from the water.

You could smell and hear a small campfire nearby. Felt a presence behind you, a heavy gaze fixed on you.

“You must be all kinds of stupid, huh? Chargin’ into that battlefield of your own makin’, not even a hint of backup around to help.” The ghoul shook his head with amusement. “Then again, you must’ve been lookin’ for a guaranteed death… So which is it, suicidal or stupid?”

You spat on the dirt and roughly wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glaring at him. If you knew one thing, it was to avoid ghouls as best as you could. Coming across one from time to time was inevitable, but you’d never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be saved by one. Or that you would still be in one piece in his presence.

At least he wasn’t worse for wear, and nowhere near feral. He was missing his nose, as all ghouls did, and his skin was leathery and burnt. His features were skeletal, shadowed under the wide brim of his hat. Otherwise… he wasn’t unbearable to look at.

“No? Y’ain’t gonna tell me?” he said, the curiosity in your stare not unnoticed by him. His eyes roamed over you in return. “Gotta be honest, I was real tempted to take a bite earlier, but I never really took a liking to dog meat.”

He chuckled and your frown only deepened, hatred and rage alight in your eyes. You tried to scoot further away, but it was then you noticed a rope was tied around one of your ankles, the other end of it under the ghoul’s boot.

“What do you want with me, ghoul?” You croaked, your throat scratchy and raw from the stomach acid.

“Well, that ain’t very grateful of you, sweetheart. I saved your skin back there,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment, unholstering his pistol. “I could’ve been just as unmerciful as those raiders, if not more.”

You swallowed hard at the imagery, but you didn’t let your dread show. “And why weren’t you?”

He leaned forward, barrel lazily pointed at you. His eyes narrowed expectantly, and you realized he truly wanted to hear some gratitude from you before continuing.

Stubbornly, you clenched your jaw shut and continued to glare. He looked off into the horizon, noticing how quickly the light was waning.

“Think you’d fare any better when the fiends come out to play? Or some super mutant?” He mused, his tone bored. “I ain’t got a whole lot of time here.”

After the day you had, you didn’t really want to take those chances.

The words crawled up your throat like a second wave of acid, scalding your tongue as you uttered them. “Thank you… for saving me.”

“Now there’s a well mannered girl. Knew you had it in ya,” he said with a roguish grin. “Y’know that means you owe me one, don’tcha?”

You dipped your chin in confirmation, hating that you couldn’t argue with him on that one. Not many — if anyone at all — were spared the wasteland, so this was not something to be taken lightly. Especially not while already being tied to him, with virtually zero chances of escaping alive.

“But I ain’t gonna cash in that favor now, so don’t worry your pretty lil head ‘bout it,” he continued, but you didn’t feel at all eased by that statement. “I do wanna know somethin’ though… just what on earth possessed you to follow those men?”

You blinked at him in both surprise and confusion. How did he know that?

“See, I’d been trailing that group of shitheads for a few days. Was after that big headed fella, the leader, Tiberius,” He waved his gun around dismissively, like that part of the story was irrelevant. “But then, I noticed they had another shadow behind them — A quiet lil mousey jus’ like yourself.”

You shrugged one shoulder, unsure of how much truth you should actually give him. “I was looking for some information.”

“What’s that?” He spoke up, cupping his hand over his ear. “What you mumblin’ for? C’mere so I can hear you better.”

With that, he stood up, yanking the rope with more force than was necessary. Your back hit the ground, dust and rocks scraping your skin as you were pulled towards his feet. Trying to stop yourself with your hands only ripped up your palms, so you went slack on the last tug towards him.

He tilted his head to one side as he observed you, a flash of teeth that showed his continued amusement.

“Much better. Now what was that you were sayin’, darlin’?”

You bared your teeth in return, internally fuming. “I said I was looking for some goddamn information.”

He gave you a mocking pout. “Aw, sweetheart… fella wasn’t as forthcomin’ as ya thought, was he?”

“Fuck you,” you spat before you could stop yourself.

“There’ll be time enough for that,” he chuckled, settling his boot on your hipbone. “But first, what kind of information were you tryin’a get?”

“Why do you care? The fuck’s it to you?”

The barrel of his gun was pointed at you once more in warning, right between your eyes. His boot pressed down on your hip until you squeaked, knowing it would bruise.

“His brother… Axl,” you panted, gripping his boot in a futile attempt to get it off you. “I need to - I need to find him.”

He let out a long, low whistle. “Axl, huh? Now I know you really got a death wish, and you’re just stupid to boot.”

“You wouldn’t get it, ghoul,” you said through gritted teeth. “I don’t expect you to know anything about losing someone you love.”

He tensed then, hand trembling for just the briefest second. His features hardened, chapped lips thinning into a flat, angry line.

He lifted his boot only to land a harsh kick to your ribs, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Again, you felt like hurling, coughing violently instead.

“Oh, I know a whole lot more than you think, smoothie,” he said, going silent for a moment as he seemed to think. “Why you lookin’ for Axl? I can jus’ take care of you right ‘ere if you want to die so badly.”

“I’m going to kill him, with my own fucking hands,” you growled, too spent to beat around the bush any longer. “He-he killed my father last year.”

The briefest moment of stunned silence before the ghoul burst out laughing.

“Ain’t that somethin’. You? Takin’ out the big bad raider all by yourself? Now I’ve heard it all,” he shook his head once again. “You’re a spunky little gal, I’ll give ya that much.”

“It’s the law of the wasteland,” you said. “He owes me.”

He crouched next to you, his interest fully piqued. One side of his mouth was pulled up in a sly grin, his gaze held by yours.

“Tell ya what, I myself got some business to attend to with our dear friend Axl, and I just so happen to know where the fucker likes to hide out,” he said, enjoying the sparkle igniting in your eye — that thirst for revenge, for blood.

“Please,” was the only thing you could say, breathless, gripping his tattered coat. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything, huh?” His tongue ran over his teeth pensively. “Well, seeing as you owe me a favor, I was just gonna take you along with me. Easier that way for you to repay me.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, not wanting to stay on the ground. Your heads were much closer, but you tried your hardest not to let it get to you.

“What business do you have with him?” You asked warily.

“That ain’t none of your concern, darlin’,” he said, removing the rope from around your ankle to bind your wrists together. “Trust me or not, y’ain’t got no choice but to come with me. Now get up, gotta find ourselves a place to hole up in for the night.”

Painstakingly, you stood up, grunting with both pain and the exhaustion that suddenly crashed into you. As soon as you were on your feet, he tugged you forward, not waiting a moment longer before starting to walk.

“If things go tits up, well… Least I got myself a little snack for the road,” he said over his shoulder with a wink.

“I thought you said you didn’t eat dog meat.”

“Heh, well, you’re starting to prove to be a little more useful than that. But we’ll see about the taste.”

——

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout fanfiction #the ghoul fanfiction #cooper howard fanfiction #minors dni #monster tag #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fanfic #the ghoul smut #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard #the ghoul

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wp-blaze · 4 days

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“Navigating Canada’s Student Visa Process: A Comprehensive Guide”

Embarking on a journey to study abroad is an exciting yet intricate process, and for those considering Canada as their educational destination, understanding the intricacies of obtaining a student visa is paramount. This guide aims to provide a comprehensive overview of the steps involved in acquiring a Canadian student visa, also known as a study […]

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cheolism · 1 year

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couch comfort

✧ cheol x reader

✧ summary: maybe the bad stuff isn't so bad when you have your boyfriend, seungcheol, there to help you with the weight.

✧ wc is approx 6.3k

✧ genre: romance, fluff, humor; being in love. work sucks. little angst? reader talks of seungcheol being their first real crush/infatuation/love? seungcheol pouts a lot.

✧ note: if there is angst in here, it's very little! this fix purely exists for comfort. you make out at one point. there's another cat based off of my childhood cat. there's absolutely no plot, just kisses and cuddles and comfort. a lot of reflection abt your relationship w cheol at the beginning but it's not all like that lol. photo mentioned at the end is one of the photos at the top!!! this is not edited.

The past week, while definitely not the worst week of your life, was definitely up there.

You sighed, leaning forward and letting your forehead rest against the wheel. Taking a deep breath, you held it for a handful of seconds before releasing it; just as your therapist suggested. Then you thought of Seungcheol and his fluffy hair.

Feeling somewhat less stressed, you grabbed your backpack from the passenger seat and made your way inside, trying your best to ignore the bitter winter air that nipped at your thighs and legs. Ignoring the cold did nothing to actually prevent it, however, and you still fumbled with your apartment keys for a good minute before you were able to select the correct key and enter.

You dropped your bag off at the door and kicked off your shoes, and in a voice that sounded remarkably like your mother when she babytalked your niece, you called out for your cat.

Stumbling away from the door and to the living room, you withdrew your phone from your pocket and slid open the new notification from Seungcheol.

Seungcheol: it sounds like you had a rough day. im sorry. i wish i u didn’t. if u still feel up for it, i can be at ur apartment in twenty. but if u want to stay in or b alone tonight, i understand baby

There was a meow from below, and that was all the warning you had before your ancient tortoise shell cat was leaping onto your chest, her weight startling you for a moment. You peered at Wolfie, her lime colored eyes peering back at you. Then she meowed again, and you couldn’t help but laugh at it, as she sounded as if she had been a serious chain smoker for fifty years.

Wolfie ignored you, crawling forward and rubbing her head underneath your chin. She began purring, a deep thing that you could only truly appreciate if you were completely silent. You held your phone up in the air to type, leaving just enough space for Wolfie to curl up on your chest.

You: ya!!!! I actually just got home 🧡💛 Wolfie immediately curled up on me, so I’ll have to ask her about getting up to get ready.

You then snapped a picture of Wolfie on your chest and sent it to him. Letting your phone fall to the ground beside the couch, you began running your hands over Wolfie. Once upon a time, her fur had been soft and silky; it practically shined. But age had caught up to your precious companion, and you constantly fought back the urge to cry over how tough and wiry her fur felt underneath your fingertips.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and let your head sink completely into the pillows. You had been joking to Seungcheol about getting Wolfie’s permission to get up, but even without her added twelve pounds on your chest, you would’ve had a hard time getting up. It was as if you were Atlas, the Titan who carried the world on his back, and the weight of it was keeping you down.

Not to be misunderstood: you didn’t hate dates with Seungcheol, and most definitely didn’t despise time spent with him. As a matter of fact, you looked forward to every Friday, knowing that not only it marked the beginning of the weekend but was also your assigned date night with Seungcheol.

If you were honest with yourself, you looked forward to waking up every morning. It was stupid and cheesy, and if your teenage self could see you they would shake their head and roll their eyes. But whenever you opened your eyes, Wolfie’s weight resting on your chest, you immediately thought of him. He was the first person you texted in the morning, whether it be about a particular dream you had, something you saw in the news, or even the weather. You couldn’t help but want to talk to Seungcheol first thing in the morning, just as you couldn’t help but message him until you went to bed.

If you were frank with yourself, which was asking a lot, you wanted to talk to him all the time. It was so --

When you were a teenager, you had looked at your friends who were proclaiming their love for their partners only within a few months of dating with considerable scorn. After all, what did sixteen and eighteen year olds know about love? You had offered a listening ear to their troubles, empathizing with their adoration for their partner, while also mentally rolling your eyes and keeping yourself occupied with your books and music.

So you didn’t know what to do about Seungcheol. You didn’t know what to do about wanting to send him pictures of all the pretty flowers you saw; videos of Wolfie being cute and cuddly; pictures of sunsets and sunrises, of cute stuffed animals and all other pretty things that reminded you of Choi Seungcheol.

You inhaled, held it; released.

If you were frank with yourself, if you stood back and analyzed everything, all the emotions you felt for Seungcheol and all the things you wanted to do for him and all the things you dreamt of doing with him, it sounded like you maybe felt something more than the fluttering adoration and infatuation you had at the start of your relationship when he asked you out.

But you didn’t want to analyze that too much.

You groaned slightly, stretching out your legs. Wolfie let out a noise of protest before purring, her attempt at getting you to remain laying down.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whispered, your hand going to rest on her head. You used your thumb to pet the space between her eyes. “I want to stay cuddled up with you forever, too. But I also want to see Cheolie.”

She adjusted herself on your chest, purring on. You did want to stay there in the dark with Wolfie, just as you had done during your early college days. Many evenings were spent like that, the two of you in your own space. More often than not, you felt like the world was on your shoulders -- just like Atlas -- and it was Wolfie’s own needs and wants that dragged you out of bed.

The past week had you debating on canceling with Seungcheol. Nothing major had happened, of course, but instead a bunch of small incidents and interactions that left bad tastes in your mouth had piled up. Just as a bunch of small pebbles pile up to build a mountain, these small things had piled to the point where you just wanted to turn away from the world.

But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to, more importantly. You didn’t want this past week, no matter how bad it might have been, to impede on your time with Seungcheol. You didn’t want to give up your time with him, not when it was -- not when he was -- so precious to you.

You settled an arm around Wolfie and slowly began to rise; she let out a few squeaks of protest. When Wolfie realized you weren’t going to stop, she huffed and wiggled out of your grasp. Tail high in the air, she walked over your legs to get to the arm rest opposite of you. She climbed on top of it and sat rather primly, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Are you my pretty little lady,” you asked, voice sweet. You shifted to reach out and pet her. “My pretty baby.”

Wolfie allowed you to pet her for a handful of seconds before she sharply twisted her head towards the front door. She sat, waiting, until there was a series of sharp knocks. Wolfie began growling deep in her throat, hackles raising.

“Y/n!” A deep voice called out, knocking stopping.

You cursed, springing up from the couch. You grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt and pulled it away from you, swatting at the cat hairs that had decided to take up room and board on your shirt. “Coming!”

Wolfie ran beside you as you made your way to the door, her tail raised straight in the air. She jumped on the little tree you had next to the door, letting out a croaky yowl when you weren’t fast enough to open it.

“Sorry, Wolfie, sorry --” You fumbled with the lock for a moment before successfully unclicking it. You wrenched open the door, a large, nearly comically so, smile already on your face. “Seungcheol!”

He was grinning back at you, eyes twinkling. Seungcheol was dressed in all black, from his heavy winter coat that was a size too big to his pants and boots. The beanie he wore was the only spot of color on him, it being a vibrant orange.

As always, despite his humble outfit, he was handsome and beautiful.

Something shifted inside of you. It was as if you had done the breathing exercise your therapist had suggested, but instead of lifting only a few pebbles off your shoulders it relieved you of half a mountain’s worth of weight.

You stepped back, letting him come into your apartment enough to shut the door behind him. Wolfie hopped off of her cat tree and went to him, winding herself around her legs. You went to follow suit, arms reaching out to him, but he stopped you.

Subconsciously your lips began to pout at his refusal. Seungcheol laughed, his hands going to his zipper. “Let me take off my coat before you hug me. It’s cold outside.”

“I don’t care about it being cold,” you mumbled, but did as he said.

As soon as he had his coat unzipped, Seungcheol reached out for you. He opened his coat just enough so you wouldn’t be touching the cold outer layer, his hands guiding you to rest against him.

He was warm; that was your first thought.

His arms surrounded you, pulling you close enough to where your nose was smashed against his chest. Not that you minded. Your arms slipped around him in turn, sliding underneath his coat and taking hold of the back of his hoodie. One of his hands went to the back of your head, fingertips sinking in your hair, and he guided you to rest your cheek against him.

Your eyes slipped shut of their own will. Humming, you nuzzled into him, breathing him in. Before Seungcheol, you never really gave much thought into what men smelled like; all you knew was they either smelled good or bad. But Seungcheol?

He smelled like -- well, like Choi Seungcheol. You knew he used expensive cologne, that he used fabric softeners and used the same body wash and lotion so the fragrance would be amplified. Your first impression of him had been that he smelled expensive, and even now, three months into your relationship, you couldn’t help but associate him with luxury.

But now?

He smelled like home.

That was your second thought.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” His face was pressed into your hair, just as yours was his chest, and you wondered if he was breathing you in, as you were him. The hand that was in your hair began to fumble with the strands before settling, his palm heavy on your head. He began petting you, as if you were a cat or a dog, but instead of feeling indignant you felt extremely at ease.

“It’s fine.”

He hummed, the sound coming deep from within him. You felt his chest vibrate against your face. “It’s not fine. I don’t like it when you’re suffering.”

You grinned, squeezing him. “I’m not suffering, Seungcheol. Just. Had a bad week. Besides,” you pulled away slightly, just enough to peer up at him with your little grin. “Somehow it doesn’t feel all that bad anymore.”

Seungcheol laughed, hands moving to your face. He pinched at your cheeks, not hard enough to hurt, before cupping them in his hands. His dark eyes were soft and sparkling as they looked at you, and you knew that no one suited brown eyes as well as he. They were warm and inviting, gentle and soft; perfect reflections of his soul.

He didn’t speak. He licked his lips and your eyes obediently went to his mouth. Seungcheol chuckled again, his hands tilting your face up. Expectant, your eyes slipped shut.

You waited for a second. Then another. Then a few more, and your eyes were opening in confusion. He was still watching you, smiling wide enough that his gums showed.

“Seungcheol!” You whined, brow furrowing.

He giggled, a boyish thing that seemed so at odds with his masculine build and voice. But it was him.

Seungcheol swooped down, his lips finally connecting with yours. You sighed at the contact, melting against him. The two of you exchanged chaste kisses back and forth, neither in a rush. It was as if your entire week had been hurtling towards this, towards you in his arms, his lips on yours, something settling in your heart that seemed a little too much to just be infatuation.

He pressed one final kiss to your mouth before straying, his lips ghosting over your cheek. They traveled about your face, his breath warm as it hit your skin. He pressed quick kisses to the apple of your cheek, the space between your brows, your temple; you hummed, satisfaction and safety seeping into your bones and soul, and he pressed a kiss to each of your eyes.

Seungcheol’s mouth returned to yours, and when he pressed another kiss to your mouth, firm like how someone would kiss a lover long gone, you couldn’t help but beam.

His own lips twisted into a smile in response. Your teeth clacked against his, both of you grinning into each other’s mouths.

“Sorry for teasing you, baby.” He pulled away from you, hands squeezing your cheeks before he released you. You wanted to stick yourself back into his arms, but held back. “You’re just so damn cute.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes in faux annoyance. You couldn’t fight the smile that was still on your face, though. “Whatever.”

“What --” Seungcheol stopped pulling off his coat for a moment to stare at you, eyes narrowing, as if you had done something sacrilegious. “Did you just say whatever to me saying you’re cute?”

He still had that appalled look on his face. You shifted back onto your heels, watching as he slowly continued pulling off his coat. You wondered if he was teasing you. “I mean. Thanks?”

“You are cute,” he declared, voice stern with authority. You couldn’t help the look of disbelief that appeared on your face. Seungcheol sighed, as if your skepticism was disappointing. He got one arm out of his coat. “You are. I don’t know who I have to punch to convince you --”

“Violence isn’t the answer to everything,” You chided. You finally left the entryway, moving to your kitchen. “I’ll get some hot chocolate ready for you, Seungcheol!”

He gave an affirmative noise in return. You pulled out your milk and went about heating it up. As it heated, you pulled out two mugs from the dishwasher, which was so full of dishes that had been shoved in that you had to wiggle the mugs back and forth to get them out.

You felt his presence behind you, and you felt embarrassment slowly creep its way up your neck and settle on your face. Standing, you refused to look him directly in the face. “I uh. Didn’t have the energy to really do dishes that much this week.”

Arms were wrapping around your waist, Seungcheol plastering himself to your back. You put the cocoa powder in the glasses. He slouched against you, his head tilted against yours, watching. He was warm, always warm. One of his arms moved to sling around your waist, the other across your chest.

You removed the milk from the microwave, pouring it evenly in the two mugs. Seungcheol shuffled with you as you shifted, grabbing the mini-marshmallows from the cupboard. Without much thought you distributed them before leaving the package on the counter.

“They’re not even.”

“Hm?”

Seungcheol sighed against your ear, as if whatever he had seen was greatly burdening him. “The marshmallows. There’s not an even amount in both mugs.”

“Oh.” You looked down, eyeing both the mugs. “You can have the one with more of them, then.”

Clicking his tongue, Seungcheol reached around you for the package. “You deserve to have the same amount of marshmallows as I do, baby.”

Feeling slightly as if this wasn’t just about marshmallows, you watched as Seungcheol’s fingers carefully counted out five more marshmallows and put them into the left mug. Before he could settle his hand back on your waist, you grabbed it.

You slid your hand on top of his, observing. His fingers were larger than yours, both in length and width. Seungcheol was pale, remarkably so, and his fingers were no different. Your fingers slid against his hand, feeling the little hairs on his knuckles and the ring on his forefinger. Your other hand joined your first in your navigation of his hand, smoothing over his fingernails -- which he kept trimmed and maintained, more than you -- feeling the sharpness of them in contrast to the soft pads of his fingers.

Seungcheol wiggled his fingers, and you felt a little giggle escape you as you wrapped your hands around three of his fingers, squeezing. He pressed himself further into you, and you felt every inch of him against you.

“Seungcheol --”

He pulled away, pressing a kiss to your ear. You peered over your shoulder at him, tilting your head. Seungcheol looked at you for a moment before smiling that gummy grin of his, his hands going to hold your head and bring it so he could press a kiss to your temple.

“Why are you so fucking cute,” he said, each word separated by a kiss to your forehead.

Seungcheol released you, picking up both mugs. You followed him into the living room, where he immediately went to the couch. Wolfie hopped onto the coffee table in front of it, sniffing both mugs. Seungcheol went to shoo her away but you stopped him, folding yourself into the couch next to him.

“She doesn’t drink it,” you said. You reached to the ground and pulled a blanket off of it, settling the blanket over your legs. “The only people food she likes is salami. The real kind, you know? Or she likes licking bowls after I eat Captain Crunch.”

Seungcheol laughed, and like always whenever you heard the sound, you giggled along with him. He shifted further into the couch, moving his feet to prop them up on the coffee table. He pulled the blanket off of you, shooting a look at you when you protested. Seungcheol grabbed your calves, guiding your legs to drape over his thighs. He then adjusted the blanket over the both of you, tucking both of you in.

“She’s a good girl,” Seungcheol agreed, reaching out. Wolfie took the hint and jumped onto your legs, climbing fervently up to his hand so he could pet her. He chuckled, obliging. “She’s awfully needy.”

He shot you a look, coy. “Just like someone else I know.”

You puffed out your cheeks, shooting him a glare. “You’re just as needy as I am, Mr. Choi Seungcheol!”

He gasped, openly insulted. “What did I say about calling me by my full name?”

You wiggled, reaching out and tugging one of his curls. “Well, when you start accusing someone it makes them do horrible things, Mr. Seungcheol. Like using full names.”

“Oh, does it?” He grinned. With one hand still petting Wolfie, he used the other hand to reach out and ruffle your hair. You let out an indignant squawk, waving your hand around to try and get him to stop. “Does it, then? Call me Choi Seungcheol again and see what happens!”

“Okay,” you laughed. “Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol.”

His mouth dropped, affronted. Seungcheol then huffed, moving his arm off of you and turning his face. “Fine. You’re lucky Wolfie is on your legs, otherwise I’d push you off.”

You laughed at his sulking, thoroughly endeared. You shifted forward, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You tried to bring him down to you in order to kiss him, but Seungcheol resisted, straining against you. “Hey! I’m trying to make it better, Seungcheol!”

“Nope!” He said, shaking his head. His curls bounced with every movement, and you couldn’t help but smile in adoration. “No making it better, F/n L/n. You’ve done it.”

“Oooh,” you cooed, “I’ve done it, have I?”

He nodded, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated pout. “Yep. You’ve done it.”

“What have I done?”

“Agitated me.”

You laughed, a loud thing that startled Wolfie from your lap. She jumped off of the couch, her feet hitting the hardwood with a little thump!

“I’ve agitated you!” You echoed in between laughs. You fell back against the couch, head hitting the armrest at an awkward angle, no longer able to support yourself. When you peeked back at Seungcheol, he was raising his thick eyebrows at you, which set you off giggling again.

He moved your legs off of his thighs, moving around them and guiding them to rest on the couch. You watched, your smile so big it was starting to hurt your cheeks, as he descended upon you. He placed his knees on either side of your thighs, setting his weight against them. Seungcheol bent over you, his eyes sparkling with something dangerous, one eyebrow lifted.

“Now you’ve really done it,” he murmured, voice deep. It sent something coursing through you, something that ate away at the mirth and sent heat shooting through your heart and settling deep. Seungcheol leaned over you, one hand bracing against the armrest and the other guiding your head in a more comfortable position.

“I’ve really done it,” you echoed, dumbly.

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he said, absentmindedly. His fingers traced over your ear, nail scraping lightly; your eyes fluttered as they continued to glide over your skin, moving to your jaw. You felt two of his fingers prod at your lower lip before continuing, pulling at it slightly before moving to ghost over your chin.

You hummed, tongue reaching out to wet your lips. “I can.”

He lowered himself against you. He braced both hands on either side of your head, and your eyes slid shut as his face neared.

Then your phone began to buzz.

Your eyes flew open, staring into his. He was so close. He let out a huff of breath. The two of you waited for a second, and you knew he was trying to will the noise away just as much as you, but to no avail.

You tapped his thighs, and Seungcheol let out a deep sigh. He began raising himself off of you, and you couldn’t help but give his thighs a squeeze.

Seungcheol went to the other end of the couch as you hung your front half off of it, searching the ground for where your phone had fallen earlier. Once you got it, you wiggled frantically back onto the couch. You moved to press against Seungcheol, your thighs molding into one another, elbows knocking.

Your mood, which had been repaired by Seungcheol, began to dampen as soon as you saw the contact name of the person who had messaged you. Your weariness must have appeared on your face, as Seungcheol was immediately responding. He swung his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer, leaning his head against yours.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Humming, you softly shook your head so as to not hurt his. “Just texts from my manager.”

You didn’t move to open the messages. It was like you were Atlas again. The weight returned, no matter how many pebbles and rocks Seungcheol had brushed off of your shoulders.

Seungcheol let out a little sigh. He wiggled about, turning onto his side to face you. He leaned forward and tucked his face into your neck, warm breath hitting your skin. Seungcheol laid his other arm over your stomach, hand gently squeezing at your lovehandle.

“You don’t have to answer it,” he murmured. You could feel his lips move against your skin. “You’re not in a manager position, and you’ve clocked out. It can wait.”

When you shook your head in answer, he sighed again. Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your neck, and a part of you couldn’t help but feel foolish at how your heart jumped and the corners of your lips twitched up into a little smile.

Unlocking your phone, you hurriedly tapped on your manager’s messages. Immediately you were met with five separate chat bubbles, all as unwelcome as the one before it. manager: so what was this I heard about you leaving early yesterday?

manager: I know you see other people leaving early, but that’s not something I encourage. It’s not something you should encourage, either.

manager: We rely on you to set an example to the others.

manager: You’re scheduled for a certain time, and you should be fulfilling that time.

manager: If this happens again I’ll have to look into shortening your hours.

Your mouth fell open with an audible noise, a small breath of air leaving you as you read over your manager’s messages. Seungcheol made an inquiring sound and you tilted your phone towards him so he could read the texts.

“What the fuck,” he muttered. “What the fuck. Who the fuck cares? Who the fuck -- so what you left early?”

“It was by ten minutes,” you softly said, sending out a quick affirmative to your manager to let them know you at least read the messages. “I was just. Tired, you know?”

Seungcheol straightened next to you, angling his head to read the texts again. His thick brows were narrowed, plump lips twisted into an irritable frown. “What the fuck. Ten minutes? This is over ten fucking minutes?”

“It’s just --” You broke off, fumbling with your phone for a moment. “It’s not like I do it all the time.”

“No, it’s not!” Seungcheol’s eyes were practically blazing as he looked at you, his grip on you tightening. He was fully irritated, gaze sharp and mouth firm. The urge to smile struck you for a split moment, your heart whispering with glee that he was angry over you; he was angry because of someone mistreating you.

“It’s fucking ridiculous,” Seungcheol announced. His fingers dug into your shirt. “You’re a model employee. You never call in, never leave early or without doing your shit. Who the fuck are they to -- to text you like that?”

“My manager, Cheolie,” you reminded him.

He scoffed, his hand leaving your body to push his curls away from his face. “Your manager -- fuck them, fuck! You’re a good person, a good employee. You’re an amazing person and if you want to leave ten minutes early, then you should! Fuck them!”

You were grinning now, your heart practically singing. It was nothing, you supposed. It wasn’t anything to get excited about, but there was something magnificent in seeing someone get angry over how others were treating you. It was wonderful to see another person so invested in your well-being and happiness, and it made your heart feel light.

It was like he had taken the boulder on your back -- the world on Atlas’s -- and smashed it between his two hands, his anger blazing bright enough to blaze through rock.

Seungcheol’s eyes met yours, and immediately his look softened. He sighed, though his lips were beginning to curve in his sweet smile. He tucked his face back into your neck, pressing another kiss underneath your ear. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m being righteously angry on your behalf.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. “‘Righteously angry?’”

He giggled, burying his face into your skin. He kissed you again there, before Seungcheol was removing his head. Seungcheol peered up at you, and you couldn’t help but admire him. His dark curls, how they brushed against his sweet, wide eyes; his eyelashes, those ridiculously long and dark lashes that made him look ridiculously endearing.

Fuck, how you wanted him.

“You know,” he began, lips in a coy smile. “You haven’t really given me a kiss hello.”

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, raising your brows. “The audacity -- I have! Do you not remember us at the door?”

He hummed, shaking his head. His curls bounced. “Nope! I distinctly recall that whole ordeal being led by me.”

“Oh, was it?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, turning to face him. You switched your phone to your left hand, and with your right you reached up and cupped his cheek. His skin was soft and smooth, and you couldn’t help but stroke his cheekbone. You then pressed your hand to his jaw. “Well, I better correct that then.”

You pressed your lips against his, three quick kisses in succession.

“Hm,” Seungcheol said. “I don’t know if that’s really enough to make up for it.”

“It’s not?” Then you pressed three more kisses. “How is that, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol shrugged. One of his hands settled on your waist, the other going to tuck your hair behind your ear. He traced his thumb over the shell of your ear before settling his hand right below it, on the hinge of your jaw. “Better, but not really satisfying, you know?”

“Not satisfying?” You asked, voice pitching high with amusement. His brown eyes were soft and twinkling, almost as if his soul was beckoning you closer, closer, to come closer and fall into his. You rose to your knees, letting your phone drop between the two of you. “I’ll just have to remedy that real quick.”

“I can tell you if it’s gonna be a quick one it won’t be real satisfying,” he chimed.

You rolled your eyes, lowering your face. His eyes were already on your lips, his tongue peeking out. “You don’t have to worry about it being satisfying.”

Then you were upon him. Your hands on his face, angling his head up and towards you. You pressed a kiss to his upper lip, chaste and sweet, before tilting your head. Like a wave intent on devouring, you moved your mouth onto his.

For a moment, Seungcheol let you work your mouth against his. Your kisses were wet and warm, and he was an obedient servant to the mastery your mouth had over him. Your hands sunk into his hair, nails scraping, fingers tugging. He was pliant beneath you, and you kissed him with the unhurried ease that all devote lovers practiced.

Then, rather impishly, you took his bottom lip between your teeth. He let out a breathy moan at it, and for a moment you couldn’t help but grin.

Pulling back, you tried to fight the surge of pride you felt as he surged after you. You subconsciously set a hand against his thick neck in an attempt to stop him from following, but Seungcheol paid no mind. Indeed, you couldn’t help the shiver of excitement that ran through you as he continued to push, his eyes dark with intent, nevermind the feeling of your hand pushing against him.

“Why did you stop, baby,” Seungcheol murmured. His voice was dark and deep, matching his eyes, and fuck, if you weren’t ready to lay on the couch and let him have his way.

“Our hot chocolate,” you replied, heart beating so quickly it was as if a hummingbird had somehow made its home within you, “it’s cold.”

“If it’s cold now, it’ll be cold when we’re done.”

You laughed, then. You threw out your arms and wrapped him in them, bringing Seungcheol flush against you. He went easily, and you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, hands messing with his hair.

“If I had known,” you said, still giggling as you pressed a final kiss underneath his chin, “before we started dating how absolute insatiable and ridiculous you are, I wouldn’t have believed it. You really had me fooled, Seungcheol.”

He chuckled, moving his arms around you. Seungcheol pressed you into him, just as you had him. “I swear, everytime you call me ‘Seungcheol’ I lose another year of my life. Next you’ll be telling me that’s my name in your phone.”

You went still against him.

Immediately Seungcheol pulled away from you. He looked at you, scrutinizing. Then, voice severe, “Unlock your phone for me.”

That set you off laughing again. Seungcheol laid you onto the couch before searching the area for your phone. He was presenting it to you in a matter of seconds, holding it out in front of you. “Unlock it.”

“You know the passcode,” you giggled.

“No I don’t --”

You shot him a meaningful look. Then his eyes widened, and he tapped in the date of your first date. He had a satisfied look on his face when your phone unlocked, a little smirk at the corner of his mouth. You watched as he glanced around your phone. You let out a soft sigh, extending your legs and settling them on either side of Seungcheol.

“What.” He blinked, then blinked again. “Seungcheol. You have my full first name? Not even a heart, not a flower or something cute, no -- there’s not even a smiley face!”

You were grinning. He huffed, shoulders rising. His brows furrowed and his lips went into a full pout. “Hey. Baby, this isn’t okay!”

“I didn’t realize it was just a crime,” you said.

He glanced over at you. As soon as Seungcheol saw you were grinning and realized the depth of your insincerity, he was sticking his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and withdrew his phone.

“Look,” he said, flashing you his phone screen.

He had a picture of you from your first date as your contact photo. You were smiling, brightly and unabashedly. It was almost goofy looking, how happy you looked in that picture.

Your name in his phone was just as sweet, and you wondered if you needed to schedule a dentist appointment first thing Monday morning from the cavities that were surely forming.

My Baby 💖🔥

“Aw,” you said, “that’s so cute.”

His jaw dropped. “Cute -- yes, it is cute! Meanwhile you just have my full fucking government name --” “Cheolie, sweetheart, it isn’t that serious --”

He glared at you, before shoving your phone towards you. “Change it. Right now.”

“Doesn’t that ruin --”

“Don’t make me repeat what I said,” Seungcheol warned. He stood, and your eyes immediately fell to his ass. Not in a perverted way of course, but because it was art and it would be a dishonor to not observe and appreciate art.

“I’ll be back,” he said, “and when I return you better have something so fucking cute it’ll make me cry.”

Rolling your eyes, you went about your business. You already had a cute picture of him -- one taken when he had fallen asleep behind you -- as his profile picture, so you hurriedly began typing out a name for him.

It really wasn’t a big deal to you, and you knew it really wasn’t that big of a deal to Seungcheol either. He’s seen your contact list. Everyone had their first and last names in it, save for your family members. There were no emojis, no cute names.

Truly, you thought, Seungcheol should consider himself privileged.

When he returned, he had Wolfie in his arms. Her eyes were shut, and she was completely dwarfed by his bulk and the added fluff that his oversized hoodie gave him. She was perfectly content, however, and when he sat down next to you all Wolfie did was shift in his arms to further mold into his chest.

“So?”

You smiled, holding your phone against your chest. “I don’t know, sharing the contact name of your beloved is sort of a private thing.”

He shot you a glare.

Giggling, you held out your phone for him.

🌸💘 My Seungcheol 💘🌸

“Is it appropriately cute?”

He hummed, tilting his head. “What are the flowers?”

“Your lips,” you said matter-of-factly. “Your lips remind me of pink blossoms.”

Shocked, Seungcheol flickered his eyes up to yours. His eyes, always rife with emotion, were round from the revelation. His lips -- his blossom pink lips -- parted, and like a magnet your eyes were on them.

“Those are some dangerous words, baby.”

You shrugged, settling back against the couch. “Too bad you have Wolfie on you.”

He looked down at the cat, eyes narrowed. You could practically hear him cussing her out. Then he sighed, settling one of his hands on her back. Wolfie arched into it, and in the silence you could hear her beginning to purr.

Seungcheol moved to rest against you, the two of you practically molding into one. You leaned against him, head on his shoulder, hand moving to join his in petting Wolfie. For a moment the two of you were quiet, enjoying one another, safe in the knowledge of the infatuation, adoration, yearning, the -- the love that the two of you shared, safe in the knowledge that it existed and thrived. Knowing that no matter the weight on the back, the other would be there to help brush off pebbles and destroy the rubble.

You moved your head, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. He hummed, and as you pulled back he swept down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You know,” he said, after the two of you settled back in your spots. “I saw the prettiest flower today while walking through the store. I took a picture of it because it reminded me of you.”

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 months

Note

Marrying Thor but being in love with Loki. Have her go to Loki’s room at wedding night so he can finish what his brother failed to…if yu know what i mean

Old work I dug from my wip, I hope you enjoy it <3

Warnings: 18+, smut, infidelity, oral (f receiving)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Sometimes, life doesn’t go according to plan. Sometimes, it rains and you have to wear a cloak over the pretty dress you wanted to wear that day. Sometimes, you get a terrible headache and have to go to bed early. Sometimes, for political reasons, you have to put duty before heart matters.

One is the heir to the throne, the future king…and the other one is the king of your heart.

Your father had forged this arrangement with Odin in secret, with hopes of uniting realms. Though such alliances through marriage were nothing new, neither you nor Thor had been consulted beforehand. You were quick to voice your displeasure to your respective parents, but they didn’t care. You and Thor were going to marry.

Your future husband didn’t care too much. Duty was duty.

Loki, however, had a different perspective. When the news of the marriage got to his ears, he was furious.

He didn’t show up to the marriage, which was expected and better that way. No one wants to see the person they love marrying another.

After the ceremony, you snuck out of Thor’s quarters and ventured to Loki’s. You were mindful of the guards all around the palace, knowing that if you were seen there would be consequences.

You knocked on his door, your fist delicate against the thick wood. You could hear some shuffling, followed by footsteps coming to the door. He was out of his day clothes and wearing a dark green soft, silk shirt and lounge pants.

The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk when he saw you in your delicate robe and hair undone, cascading down your back in loose waves caused by your wedding hairstyle. ‘’What do we have here? The future queen of Asgard sneaking from her dear husband’s bed on her wedding night. Marital troubles already?’’

You fought the envy to roll your eyes at his remark. ‘’I braved the guards to see you, don’t leaving me standing in the corridor.’’

Loki stepped aside and you walked in, closing the door behind you. Inside, everything looked the same as it always did; the bed was perfectly made, the thick curtains were shut and shielding the room from the glow of the moon, and the desk was stacked with parchment papers and bits of used charcoal.

‘’Don’t you have better things to do than clandestinely visit your dear husband’s brother in the middle of the night?’’ Loki's voice was laced with a bitter edge as he spoke, his back turned to you as he walked back to the velvet green couch he was sitting on before you interrupted his reading.

You couldn't help but respond with a touch of sarcasm, trying to break through the tension that hung in the room. ‘’Like listening to Thor’s snores that could make a trumpet sound quiet?’’

You walked over to the couch and took a seat beside him with your back against the cushioned armrest. It wasn’t very lady-like to sit with your feet on the couch, but no one was there to scold you. The red silk of your robe contrasted with the jewel tone of the couch, a silent reminder that you shouldn’t be there. Red was Thor’s color.

‘’How was the bedding ceremony?’’ The prince set the book he was reading on the table, his head turned from you to hide how he truly felt about the thought of you and Thor having sex.

Shifting uncomfortably, you casted your eyes down. ‘’Can we not talk about that—’’

Loki ghosted his hand slowly up your ankle, shin, then stopped right below your knee. ‘’Does he touch you like I do?’’

The answer was easy.

You wouldn’t call Thor selfish, but when it came to sex, his performances weren’t what you would expect from a god. The rumors were true, even a good dick doesn’t guarantee you good sex. No foreplay or any kind of fun, just plain old missionary…for five minutes. The liters of Asgardian Ale he had drank during the wedding celebration were possible to blame for that terrible experience. Hopefully it won’t always be like that.

With Loki, sex was completely different. He knew your body like the back of his hand, the exact ways that had your back aching and screaming. And there was a connection that just wasn't there with Thor.

You shook your head.

Loki laughed, genuinely amused from hearing of his brother's incompetence. ‘’You have no idea how hilarious it is. Thor, the mighty God of Thunder and heir to the throne, failed to satisfy his wife on his wedding night.’’

‘’I knew it would amuse you. Knowing there’s something you’re more skilled at than him.’’

A sly smirk played on the prince’s lips, flattered by your compliment. ‘’Tell me more.’’

‘’Don’t be greedy.’’ Your eyes longed on him, how beautiful he looked in the glow of the lamp.

‘’Me?’’ Loki leaned back on the couch, his eyes gleaming mischievously in the dim light. ‘’The only thing I’m greedy for is sitting right in front of me and wearing a color that’s far too overpowering for her complexion.’’

His words only strengthened your guilt for taking the hand of a man you didn't love. It was killing you inside to know you'll never get to hold Loki's hand arm in the gardens or kiss him in front of the inhabitants of Asgard.

Turning a blind eye to your new marital status, you let your fingers glide down along the lapel of your robe, and traced teasingly the seam of your belt-tie. ‘’Shall I take it off?’’ you said in a near whisper.

‘’And what of your new husband?’’

‘’He’s sleeping until morning.’’ You pulled at the belt-tie and undid the knot, letting the silk slowly fall and expose your breasts.

A silent growl caught in Loki's throat. He's mouthed and worshiped those so many times, yet he was still in awe every time you undressed.

Without withdrawing his eyes from you, he made the robe vanish with a snap of his fingers, leaving you completely bare on his emerald green couch. ‘’Green looks better on you.’’ He delicately grabbed your ankles, and spread your legs before crawling between them.

A sigh left your lips when he kissed the insides of your thighs, giving attention to what had been neglected in Thor’s quarters. Loki was right, no man touched you like he did. He looked up at you as he kissed higher and higher on your skin, making the situation more sensual. You bit down your lip when he

placed a loving kiss against your sensitive clit, and grip his dark curls as his tongue swirled and suckled your sensitive bud.

‘’Ahh, Loki!’’

His name was the only one on your tongue, echoing through the wall of his bed chamber and down the corridor.

—

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All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki x reader #loki marvel #loki odinson #marvel #marvel imagine

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rainyinautumn · 5 months

Text

Scar does not lay down and die. He’s fought too hard to go out like that.

It’s a strange feeling, to know that he’s in full control of when he dies. No one chasing him down, no ticking clock, no curses. Sure, he doesn’t have regen, but he has a full row of hearts—a whole life ahead of him that he can spend in Sunflower Valley.

He doesn’t remember until he arrives that there’s nothing for him there. It’s about fifty percent craters. Some of them are blackened by the wither, and others by gunpowder. Despite it all, though, there are still sunflowers. Not many, but they’re facing his way when arrives, as if trying to be the welcoming party he never had. Scar sits down at the edge of one of the craters and swings his feet back and forth over the drop. It’s not deep enough to kill him, hardly even deep enough to take a heart off of him. The ash settled at the bottom is picked up by the wind, blowing into Scar’s boots and hair. He doesn’t wipe it out. It’s his only reminder that he wasn’t always alone in this world.

Across the crater, the air shimmers purple. Before Scar can figure out what it is, the color coalesces into a ghostly figure with a faint halo that shines just like the sun. Grian smiles at him wanly and holds out a bouquet of poppies and lilacs.

“You’ve won, Scar,” he says. “It’s time to go.”

“But I’m not ready yet,” he objects.

“He didn’t get me any flowers,” Scott mutters as he sits down beside him, transparent and crowned with a dozen tiny stars. “Trust me, you’re ready. You’ve won. There’s nothing left.”

“Well, I never had much anyway,” Scar says coolly. “Can’t say this feels too different.”

“I know.” Pearl’s voice comes from his other side along with the soft glow of the moon, and his heart aches, unwilling to turn toward her. “I know, but the game’s over, Scar. You did well.”

He wants to tell her sorry, but that would be disingenuous. He wouldn’t change a thing about that fight—the only thing he regrets is that it had to be her.

“More than well, I’d say.” Martyn takes shape in the center of the crater, his coral crown glittering the angry red of Mars. “I’m loving the trend of villainous winners we’ve got going here. Who do you think’s gonna be next? Joel? Gem?”

“Maybe we’re due for a more heartfelt finale,” Scott says, sending a sidelong glance Scar’s way. “No offense.”

“Didn’t you win through a battle royale?” he retorts.

“Didn’t we all?” Grian sighs. “It’s just the way of the game. Killing people. It’s a bit hard to get a heroic winner out of that.”

Scar stares at his feet. “I thought I’d feel more relieved,” he admits. “Like I’d- like I’d, y’know, won something. Now that the adrenaline’s gone, it’s all just kinda…”

“Empty?” Grian fills in for him.

“Disappointing?” Scott suggests.

“Sad?” Pearl says.

Martyn kicks a rock. “Fleeting?”

“One of those things,” Scar sighs. “So… now what?”

“I already told you,” Grian huffs, tired but good-natured. “It’s time to go.”

“Die, you mean,” Scar says. “It’s time for me to die.”

Martyn draws an axe that looks far more corporeal than the rest of him. “It’s my turn to take you out,” he tells him. “I was planning on a nice quick beheading, but I’m open to suggestions.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Scar stammers, scrambling backward. “I don’t get to choose how I go?”

“Well, sort of,” Grian explains. “You’ve won. The only thing that can take you out now is another winner.”

“Pearl zapped me when my time was up,” Martyn says. “Didn’t hurt for more than a second.”

“And what if I don’t let you?” Scar asks.

Scott puts a hand on his shoulder, but it goes right through. “There’s no way around this, Scar.”

“Martyn has to kill you,” Pearl reiterates. “It’s not up to him, or us, or you. No one can move on until you’re gone.”

“Says who?”

Grian gestures broadly at the horizon. “Who do you think?”

The Secretkeeper looms in the distance, a dark sky overhead. It’s watching him. Scar knows it is. It’s waiting, impatient as ever, for its final task to be completed.

Martyn hefts his axe over his shoulder. The move should be threatening, but there’s no malice in it. His hand sits firmly on the handle, white-knuckled and duty-bound, but the rest of him is relaxed. He doesn’t want this to be a fight.

“I guess everyone’s waiting on me, huh?” Scar says. “Let’s get this over with.”

He walks up to Martyn and kneels, removing his hood to expose the back of his neck. He feels the cold edge of the axe blade placed against it and screws his eyes shut.

“Any last words?” Martyn asks.

“I’m taking away all your reputation points for this.”

He laughs, genuine and nostalgic. “Fair enough.”

The axe lifts, and a breeze ruffles Scar’s hair as it comes back down on his neck.

There’s a searing flash of pain, and then nothing. His eyes stay closed, staring at the darkness.

“Scar,” Grian says, his voice closer than before. “Scar, it’s done.”

He blinks warily, taking a moment to process the view he sees. The rest of the world now has the shimmering transparency of the ghosts, while the other winners are now solid and real in front of him. Grian is still holding the bouquet—when he extends it to Scar, it changes shape, twisting into a flower crown.

“Wait,” Pearl says. “One last thing.” She waves her hand and two glowing sunflowers wrap themselves into the wreath, blooming side by side. “There.”

Grian steps forward, right in front of Scar, who’s still kneeling in the center of the crater. “Congratulations, Scar,” he says. “You won.”

The crown is a perfect fit.

#couldn't just write nothing about scar's win so here have this #the last winner has to kill the most recent and there's technically nothing in canon that says I'm wrong so #clutching this headcanon forever #goodtimeswithscar #secret life #slsmp spoilers #trafficblr #relevant rainy things

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vin-taege · 1 year

Note

spoilers!!!! hello!!! you asked for chishiya x reader request? can i request oneshot or headcannon of them reuniting in the hospital in the last episode?(they both were in borderland) so they were dating before and during and after borderland (maybe they were walking together in shibuya that kind of thing so they both are alive)

It's been a while so I might be rusty :') For this, I decided to set pre-borderlands reader and chishiya at the beginning stage of their relationship (think first date) so the reunion impact has much more oomf (in my silly little head, this makes sense). I hope you like it!!

What's Missing?

Summary: You had made a promise, but you can't remember for the life of you what nor to whom—but a certain blonde with a Cheshire smile may help you recall.

TW: blood, SPOILERS FOR S2

Genre: fluff, alice in borderland au, hinted established relationship

Pairing: reader x chishiya

Words: 1.1k

You couldn't feel your dominant hand. The pain had dwindled into numbness, but you were certain a silver bullet had dug its way in between the bones of your lower arm. Chishiya had managed to take his jacket off despite the blood pouring out his own side. Through his shallow breathing, he tied it it tightly around your wound, trying his best to ignore your pained groan.

The bullet-fire had stopped a good hour ago, leading you both to think that the King of Spades was long gone. But your wounds didn't stem from that game—it was from the godforsaken shootout Niragi started.

You and the blonde sat side by side, huddled behind a dented car Usagi and Arisu had dragged you towards. You tried your best to shift a little so you can face him better, bringing your other arm to press against his blood-soaked torso. He spared a small grunt, the only thing telling you that he was in as much—if not, more—pain as you are. His warm hand covered yours, the two of you trying to put pressure on his wound.

"___," he exhaled slowly. "Promise me."

You hummed in response, whispering, "Okay."

Chishiya let out a low chuckle, "I haven't said what for yet."

"You don't need to," you turned your head up, eyes meeting his. "I'll do anything for you."

He gave you a small smile—the type void of his usual snark. In a way, he seemed almost sad, fearful. "I know. Sometimes I wish you wouldn't."

The blood pool underneath you grew. You didn't know which blood was whose, and you'd rather not find out.

"Promise me you'll remember," he quietly murmured. If you weren't paying attention you would have most likely missed it underneath the boom of fireworks, suddenly appearing the way they did when you first came into this wretched place. The familiar robotic voice greeted all surviving players with a congratulatory message, one you drowned out in favor of focusing on the only person that mattered: Chishiya.

"I promise. We'll find each other again."

Unbeknownst to you, your eyebrows knit together in worry upon seeing his paler complexion. The blush in his cheeks and the color from his lips have drained out, blooming on the cement instead. A dull spark in his deep brown irises fought to stay alive. You wanted to kiss him so bad.

You would've done anything to feel his lips against yours again, or his fingers in between your hair. Even inches from death, he looked so beautiful, but you were scared that the slightest touch would rip him away from you.

"That's all I need," Chishiya gave your hand a small squeeze, the light of fireworks reflecting off his cat-like eyes.

The disembodied voice in the background asked one last question, one you both knew the answer to. In a blink of an eye, everything melted away.

Disoriented, you found yourself back in Shibuya, waiting for your date outside a coffee shop. You blinked twice, as if waking up from a dream, the only thing grounding you being the buzz of the hundreds of people coming and going. From the corner of your eye, you saw the flash of platinum blonde hair—and felt the impact of the meteor immediately after.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

The first thing you woke up to was systematic beeping.

Your body hurt all over, especially your dominant arm. With a glance, you realized that it hung in a cast. With enough effort and pain tolerance, you could still wiggle your fingers.

Something was missing.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a nurse walking into your room, her small gasp catching your attention. She quickly scampered off to most likely find a doctor, but you couldn't have cared less. Your mind was stuck on somewhere—someone?—else. There's something important you had to do, but you didn't know what.

You needed to meet someone.

It would be days later when this thought would flash across your head.

That's right. There was someone you had to see.

You've healed enough to roam around the hospital now, but you still couldn't be discharged because they had to monitor the fracture in your lower arm. The way the bones have splintered could've only been caused by a gunshot wound, which stumped the doctors because how on earth could you have been shot during the impact?

Subconsciously, your walk has led you to a patient lounge area. Looking around, you saw a girl with chin length-hair laughing across a boy with long, shaggy hair, a small bandage stuck across his cheek. Other patients were scattered among the tables, some watching TV, others silently reading by themselves. That's when you locked eyes.

At the furthermost corner, a man sat with a set chessboard and an open pack of crackers. A flash of recognition sparked across your mind, and a part of you knew he felt it too.

You promised something. Promised what? To whom?

Without breaking eye contact, you walked towards the bookshelves his table was placed next to. He raised an eyebrow, light blonde strands of hair framing his sharp eyes. You gulped, second-guessing yourself.

You promised.

Half-heartedly browsing the shelf, you picked a book out, halting when you heard the blonde clear his throat.

"Your supposed to sign the logbook before borrowing," he nodded towards a bookstand, which was set beside a large window overlooking the hospital's garden.

"Ah, thank you," you replied meekly.

It was only when you were in front of the logbook that you realized: shit, you couldn't write.

Struggling, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to properly hold the pen. You could feel him watching you, smirking at your helplessness. Weirdly enough, you didn't feel offended or annoyed. Instead, warmth nestled within your chest.

I promise I'll find you.

You had barely scrawled three letters when you felt his presence closer to you. You looked over to your side, slowly taking him in.

His hair was tied into a small ponytail, a few loose strands poking out. His eyes looked less cold upfront, specks of sunlight entrapped in the rich brown. He felt like home, like hot chocolate after a long day or the rediscovery of a childhood toy.

"I thought you needed help," his lips curled slightly, a boyish grin adorning his features.

You chuckled lightly, "Thank you. My name is—"

And before you even finished, he had written your entire name—as if he knew it by heart, as if it was an oath he'd held onto dearly.

You tore your eyes from the paper, meeting his intense gaze again. He gingerly raised his hand, his heart yearning to reach out to you. He didn't know why but it all felt right when he first saw you. Everything was in its place.

You held his hand in midair, bringing it over to your cheek.

You've done this lifetimes before.

"Chishiya," his name left your mouth like a whisper—a wish scattered upon the heavens to come true.

"You were late to our date," you teased him.

He snorted a little, eyes crinkling as his grin widened. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

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