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happypopcornprincess · 3 months

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Tangled Fates (Part Two)

Part One

What happened after Sapuna left for Garud Lok, and how Wansarut faces a challenge to decide her future.

GIF by @25shadesoffebruary || Original Post by creator is here

a/n - Thank you to literally everyone who showed so much support on my previous fic! I really had the time of my life writing for The Sign series as it just keeps on getting interesting with the release of new episodes! can't wait for those saturdays dude! till then... do give this a read and let me know how it was! Thanks a lot <3

Also major shoutout to @ayansbff for suggesting the song for this fic! [Galliyan by Ankit Tiwari]

The Sign series spoilers ahead!

---/---/---

Having craned her neck for so long, Wansarut tilted her head to get some relief. In response, Wanwisa pulled her hair into an angle. Again.

“Phi Saoo! ” she cried, looking at Wanwisa through the mirror. “Stay still just a bit longer!” Wanwisa let out a laugh while braiding her hair.

Prince Chalothorn was expected to visit their family that evening, and all responsibilities for making Wansarut presentable had fallen on her elder sister. This included preparing Wansarut for the occasion. Although she knew the prince favored her family as members of the Naga court, Wansarut had no romantic interest in him. To her, he was more like an older brother.

“Where is your mind wandering off to?” Wanwisa inquired.

Days had passed since Wansarut last encountered the Garuda. Her thoughts occasionally drifted back to their last conversation, especially how she had revealed her name without thinking. She had been in such a hurry to escape from him that she hadn't even bothered to ask for his name in return.

“Nowhere. Just… thinking,” Wansarut replied.

“About…” Wanwisa sang, “The Prince?”

Wansarut shot her a glare with a frown. “No.”

Wanwisa sighed, combing her hair. “I can't fathom why you're so determined not to like him. He's the prince of our kingdom, fighting for our clan. He's always been good to our family. Imagine how incredible it would be for you to marry him – you'd be a princess, our future queen!”

“I've always seen him as a brother, Phi Saoo. If you're so fond of him, why don't you marry him?” Wansarut blurted out before she could restrain herself.

Wanwisa's hands paused, and she gently caressed Wansarut's hair with a sad smile. “He doesn't like me, Nong Saoo. He likes you.” She placed the now complete braid on Wansarut's shoulder and hugged her from behind. “You'll make a fine princess, Nong Saoo.”

Without offering further explanation, she left the chamber. Wansarut watched her vanish behind the entrance curtains, a thought appearing inside her mind: does Wanwisa has feelings for Prince Chalothorn. If she did, wouldn't she have confided in her?

---/---/--- Sapuna settled on the windowsill of his house, gazing at the floating mountains of Garuda Lok, absent-mindedly toying with his golden flute – a gift from his sister.

His mind replayed every word spoken to Lord Aruna. After urgently requesting a meeting upon his return, the fact that he emerged unharmed from the human world granted him the audience.

He had practically begged the sun god to suggest a truce with the Naga prince. Despite encountering resistance from those present, Lord Aruna dismissed him, promising to consider the suggestion. Excused from the battlefront for the time being, Sapuna was sent back home.

Thoughts of Wansarut only added to his turmoil, her image recurring in his mind. He felt a tugging sensation in his chest at the memory of his savior – her almond eyes, pointed nose, and the crease of her eyebrows beneath her hair haunted his dreams each night. Despite his grandmother's attempts to appease him with sweets, he longed for the sweet wild mangoes of the human world.

Sapuna noticed an object hurtling towards him at tremendous speed. He catched it effortlessly, and discovered it was a message from Lord Aruna. He read its contents, and standing standing abruptly; transformed into his Garuda form, soaring off to the human world. Despite Wansarut's reluctance to have him there, he now had a valid reason to visit her.

Because the letter in his hand read:

Neither side wants the blood of their clan to spill for nothing, and our aim is to attain peace given the animosity between our clans. I have proposed a truce to the Naga kingdom. And if they answer, you will be accompanying me to meet Prince Chalothorn along with my court.

I trust you, Sapuna. Don’t make me regret this.

---/---/---

Beneath the sheltering branches of an ancient banyan tree, Wansarut perched on a swing, trying to make sense of the events from the previous evening at her home.

Prince Chalothorn had engaged in conversation with her family while she and her sister eavesdropped from behind the curtains of the halls, accompanied by the servants. Just as she prepared to meet him with Wanwisa, a royal guard rushed in, whispering something urgent to the prince.

The prince's face swiftly transformed from a benevolent smile to a furious scowl. He rose abruptly, apologized to the elders citing an emergency on the front lines, and departed without meeting her. The rapid shift in his demeanor left her unsettled, prompting her to slip away while her family debated the reason behind his sudden departure. Uninterested from the start, she wanted no involvement in the drama.

Swinging back and forth, Wansarut felt a forceful gust propel her forward. She glanced around to witness the forest settling into an unusual calm, as if a presence had touched down amidst the canopy. Descending from the swing, she observed a figure emerging from the woods, recognizing the silver breastplate of the Garuda as he approached.

"Swadee kha, Wansarut," he greeted, joining his hands.

She whispered inquisitively, "What are you doing here?" scanning their surroundings for any witnesses.

The Garuda responded with wide-eyed innocence, "Why are you whispering?"

"Your entrance was not exactly subtle, Khun," she signed.

Amused, the Garuda burst into laughter. The resonant sound stirred something within her, it felt like a warm embrace. She couldn't help but be captivated by the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

---/---/---

Sapuna felt an ice-cold grip on his arm, and Wansarut tugged him towards the expansive Banyan Tree grove. He followed, too shy to meet her gaze, opting instead to focus on the ground. With every step, her emerald-gold anklets gleamed against her fair skin, and the hem of her garments brushed the ground in front of him.

Wansarut halted and turned to face him. Reluctantly, he lifted his head to meet her gaze. As she parted her lips to speak, he stopped her, saying, "I have news regarding your request."

Sapuna proceeded to share everything, from his visit to Lord Aruna to his journey to this place. Wansarut's face brightened with each word, as if she had realized something crucial and couldn't wait to express it.

"Prince Chalothorn visited my family last evening and left abruptly without explanation, citing an emergency. He didn't seem very pleased about it, maybe this was the news." she said, tilting her head.

Sapuna attentively absorbed her words and, driven by curiosity, inquired, "Why was Prince Chalothorn at your house?"

Wansarut glanced at him, her shoulders slumping. "My family has been members of the royal court for centuries, and he has asked for my hand in marriage."

"Oh," was all Sapuna could manage to say.

While he had suspected her high social status based on her jewelry and attire, he shouldn't have been so surprised that she was engaged, especially to Prince Chalothorn.

"I haven't given him an answer yet. I was supposed to yesterday, but..." She trailed off.

"You would have said yes?" he asked.

Wansarut gazed at him with a pained expression. He could decipher from her look alone that she harbored no interest in the proposed union.

It felt inherently wrong. She, with her purity and kindness, seemed incompatible with someone like Chalothorn. The Naga prince held nothing but bitterness in his heart, responsible for the ongoing conflict between their clans.

"I have to go," Sapuna said, distancing himself from her. "I hope you make the right choice."

"Khàapkhun Kha... Khun," she replied, bowing her head.

Sapuna chuckled at her formality. "Please, Wansarut, I should be the one thanking you. And you can call me by my name; no need to be so formal." Wansarut remained silent, directing her gaze to her feet and fidgeting with her hands. He realized the reason. "You don't know my name," he sighed.

"Sapuna. My name is Sapuna-Naparuj," he said, smiling at how Wansarut snapped her head to look him in the eyes, clearly surprised.

"Sapuna." she repeated.

He swore no one had ever uttered his name quite like that. His heart raced, warmth spreading across his face, and he took a step backward, still looking her in the eyes until the pounding in his chest became too much.

Turning away, Sapuna unfurled his wings and soared toward Garuda Lok, a smile playing on his lips as he stole glances at the fascinated Wansarut with his infinite vision.

---/---/---

Bonus Scene

"Come on, man," Phaya pleaded with the lunch guy to give him an extra slice of mango.

"I told you I can't give you extra. Two slices for everyone," the server stared him down, not a hint of emotion in his eyes.

Phaya looked at the tray overflowing with fresh mango slices, his mouth watering at the mere scent of the ripe yellow fruit.

"Phaya, move," Khem urged him from behind. Giving Khem a look, Phaya moved to the end of the line. Finding an empty table at the hall's far end, he sat down eyeing the tray of food before him, with food portions standardized for trainees following a specific diet plan.

Phaya ate his lunch, attempting to chew the sticky rice while reminiscing about how every year, a friend of his grandma who owns a farm would send crates of fresh mangoes. Him and his sister would always quarrel for the juiciest ones. If he managed to snag one, he would tease her by eating it in the messiest way possible.

Maybe this is karma for teasing Nee when we were young.

Deciding to save the mango for last, he focused on the chicken curry instead, grateful it tasted better than the vegetarian stew served the day before.

Tharn, Khem, Yai, and Thongthai approached his table, sitting down with their lunch trays. Phaya smiled at them and continued eating, while Yai and Tharn shared stories of a festival in their hometown.

As Phaya scooped up the last bite of rice, he saw Khem reach out to his tray and offer him his share of mango slices. Phaya stared at him in awe, then noticed Thongthai, Yai, and Tharn doing the same.

At a loss for words, he looked around at his friends, all of whom had smiles on their faces.

"Aww, Phaya, stop looking at us like that!" Yai jabbed him in the ribs. "It looks like you're about to cry."

"I love you guys," Phaya said wholeheartedly and dove into the pile of mango slices on his tray.

Busy enjoying his favorite treat, he missed what Yai was about to say. "Ay Phaya, it was Tharn who... Ouch!" Yai winced.

Phaya looked at Yai in confusion. "What?" he asked.

Tharn spoke up while gathering his now empty tray. "Nothing. He was rambling about something. We're gonna go, we... have to practice... questions! For the pre exam." He tilted his head at his friends, and they all got up and left, one after another.

Phaya tried to recall what Yai was saying but stopped when he felt all eyes on his tray. He quickly finished the fruits and made a hasty exit before someone could tip off the trainers.

---/---/---

Back in their dorm hall, Yai yelled at Tharn, "Hey, Tharn! Did you have to kick my feet that hard?" rubbing his toes that were now red, while Tharn furrowed his brows, searching for balm to soothe his friend.

"Khao thot, Yai, I just don't want him to find out it was me," Tharn apologized earnestly, extending his hands to Yai.

A hoot echoed from Thongthai and Khem's bunk, and Tharn rolled his eyes as they approached Yai giggling like children, bearing an ice pack.

Khem playfully poked Tharn in the ribs. "Tharn, you look so cute trying to impress your crush..."

"...making such a big sacrifice of your share of mango slices and threatening your friends to do the same!" Thongthai teased him, dramatically fanning himself, extracting laughter from Yai.

"Okay, okay, just don't tell Phaya. Please," Tharn laughed along, taking a seat opposite Yai's bed.

Khem inquired taking a seat beside Yai, "By the way, how did you know he likes mangoes?"

Tharn tilted his head, genuinely puzzled about how he knew Phaya liked mangoes. "I don't know. I just assumed, I guess."

Khem and Thongthai nodded, and Yai interjected, "Are we all going to talk about Phaya? Can't you see I'm injured?" He tried his best to give them puppy eyes.

"Oh, Yai! You're such a drama queen!" Khem laughed as he pressed the ice pack onto his feet.

---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---

More fics? reblog this with what tropes you want for Sapuna and Wansarut!

---/---/---

Guide

Sapuna - Phaya's name in past life as a Garuda

Wansarut - Tharn's name in past life as a Nagini

Naga - A creature from Hindu and Thai mythology who has magical powers and can shapeshift into a Serpant

Nagini - Females of Naga clan.

Garuda Lok - The realm of Lord Garuda

Naga Lok - Realm of the Nagas

Phi Saoo - older sister in thai

nong saoo - younger sister in thai

Khapyn kha - Thank you in thai

Khao Thot - Sorry in thai

---/---/---

Taglist (i tagged everyone who replied and reblogged part one pls dm if you want to be added/removed to this taglist)

#the sign the series #fic #the sign bl #bl drama #bl series #thai bl #thai drama #phaya x tharn #phayatharn #au fanfiction #thai series #asianlgbtqdramas #bl fanfic #happypopcornprincess writes #forbidden romance

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cherrysoulth · 2 years

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LE BEAU GARÇON

💕Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

📝Summary: A little piece of smut of a bigger plot/story.

✏️Genre/au: Smut, Canon, Paris hotel room

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 1769

⚠️warnings: explicit smut

Hii! Did you stumble a cross this work? Glad yo're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

Only the candles illuminate the room as you take in the view of Paris from the window. At night time, the dim lights that fill up the streets and bring that romantic air all around the city make it look even more breathtaking, giving you a hint of why Taehyung loves it so much.

Without too much thought, you draw a heart on the window and write his name in Hangul plus yours, shaking your head to clear its silliness before finishing your glass of red wine. Not knowing how to feel, you take the snuffer and start extinguishing the candles. It’s not that it bothers you that he’s still out because, at the end of the day, it was you who told him to enjoy his night after the show and left, although he asked you to stay for a little bit longer. But jet lag was being bad for you since you had no sleep on the plane and couldn’t adjust to the clock difference.

You had napped for four hours and woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. The silly thought of him coming back, all hyped from meeting people at any moment, made you fill-up the room with candles and prepare the heated soaking tub. Only to end up drinking half a bottle of wine on your own as you look through the window like a lovesick Juliette, waiting for Romeo to serenade her.

This made you feel very stupid.

After the last candle, you go brush your teeth and settle for bed again, drifting to sleep easily with the help of Dyonisius in Morpheos’ arms. It is when you are about to dream that you feel warmth on your back and wet lips on your jawline. You suddenly open your eyes in confusion.

Taehyung looks at you and as you turn to face him, you can feel the intensity from his eyes, although you're pretty sure he can't see much with the soft light from outside. However, he doesn’t give you much time to think because his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss and you can tell by the taste of old fine whiskey that he’s probably past his tipsy point. Your conscience doesn’t allow you to accept what his hand sliding down your abdomen insinuates he wants to do, so you grab his wrist gently and pull his hands away from your pelvic bone.

“Let’s sober you up, ok?” you mutter lovingly and slip out of bed, pulling him with you. He doesn’t say a single word but doesn’t object either, and lets you guide him to the bathroom where you turn the light on and see his expression. He’s unreadable and looks tired from having partied so much. The beautiful shiny shirt and the leather jacket have been abandoned somewhere in the room or the little living room area before the suite, and his bare chest is on display. His skin smells like a mix of alcohol, tobacco, and a slight sweat that makes his own scent be the predominant thing your brain catches on to.

He watches you kneel and aim for his belt to unbuckle it, stares at him the second you unzip his pants. Pulling them down his muscular legs, you look at the front and swallow the moment his hard member springs out.

Still, you don't give up your goal and help him out of his pants before standing to guide him to the porcelain clawfoot tub and it’s then he pulls you against him. Out of nowhere, his hard tool presses against your silver silk-covered peaches, as he nuzzles on your nape. “Taehyung, just get in the bathtub, please,” you ask him nicely, although he doesn’t seem willing to let you go, at all. But he does and it’s then, as he gets inside and sits that his hand still on yours becomes your curse as he pulls down. You lose your balance and as you fall on top of him, his smirk tells you everything. “You tricked me,” you complain, furrowing your eyebrows, to what he only smiles wider and it makes you let out a giggle.

Without warning, he pulls you closer to him and aims to get rid of your top without much resistance from you. “Wait, let me grab the soap,” you tell him, as he tries to pull your shorts past your ankles. But as you move towards the other end tub, he grabs you by the hips and stays on his knees behind you, stopping your move.

His tip plays with your folds before he grunts and you feel a warm, thick liquid touch them, that you can easily differentiate from the water. When you tilt your head to look at him, as you stop feeling his thick head, you see him wipe off the transparent liquid from his tip before washing it off from your folds. “I’m sorry.” he apologises nicely, with good boy eyes and you just shake your head with a calm expression. Then he pulls you against his body abruptly, shaft sneaking between the hug of your legs with one arm at your waist and the other above your wet breasts to draw them with his fingers. His lips kiss and nibble at the curve of your neck while he’s caressing every curve to the nipples like a brush over a new canvas. His long fingers elicit moans before he teases your core by dragging his member through in its position, stimulating you and himself until he can feel the drip falling over his velvety skin.

Pulling out from the soft cage, the arm at your hip abandons its position, as his hand helps him guide the full tip through your entrance; playing in and out. Another drip of your slick helps his movements and he slides in more than he was aiming for, losing it for a second with a growl against your nape. “Take me… Do whatever you want with me…” you mutter, closing your eyes, feeling all the sensations he’s managed to give you in just a few minutes. His arm meets your hip again and dragging out a bit, he gets back in, saving the last distance to the depths of your core and you both moan at the same time.

“ Ah s hibal…” he whispers against your nape before you notice the tightness of his balls against you. “Don’t move, please.” he pleads and you only nod, giving him the time to relax and go control his peak, while pressing his lips on your nape. Seconds later, he chuckles against your skin and kisses it lovingly. “I’m sorry.” he apologises rubbing his nose before he rolls his hips making you close your eyes again. His girth caresses your depths so well, it feels like they are made to mould together, so good, you accompany the move.

That little test of control makes him growl with his mouth closed against your head, boring his eyes on you but you do it again and again until he moves his hand from your breasts to your throat. He lets out a groan as he goes deeper inside, telling you who is in charge. “Ok, ok…” you submit to him and he releases the threat to your throat. Although it had no pressure, whatsoever, it still leaves your skin remembering the touch.

His hand slides down your sternum, this time to your right hip, while the other takes the other side and he starts to move very slowly. Although you can’t see his face, you can tell exactly what his features depict and you know he is showing off his dominance this way, too. The brat in you stirs, just enough for you to be willing to just move backward and fuck yourself with his shaft. But the way you can feel every detail of him on your walls makes you roll your eyes backward and stay still.

You hear him chuckle, just a second before he starts pounding into you, dragging the last inch before his tip touches your cervix, making you have to hold to the edges of the tub to keep your position. His moves become merciless and you feel the tension in your lower belly turn into electricity the moment he rubs your clit. Making you explode in blinding ecstasy as you moan your high out of your throat.

Taehyung doesn’t stop there and pulling you against his chest by the hair, he thrusts into you relentlessly, while growling in your ear, biting your neck and shoulder until you whine. Then letting go of your hair, allowing you to bend and recover your breath by slowing down, he orders in a low octave. “C’mon, little brat. Now, you can roll those pretty hips all you want.”

You do as he says, feeling the after-effects inside of you and how even stretched, the rawness of his moves has left your slit sensitive to every new intrusion of his shaft and you can’t avoid whining a little bit to your every move. Noticing that he leans over you, “Ok, baby, you can stop.” and with that he pulls off, letting you fall on your butt in the water. Then you turn to see he’s still hard and throbbing, and without too much thought you hold on to his hip, looking at him in the eye before turning your body to take him in your mouth.

Introducing him as deep as you can, he is the one to grab the edges of the tub to stay steady this time, hissing to control the impel his hips urge to take. To his relief, you bob your head a few times before resting his tip at the back of your tongue, sucking him while you press him inside your mouth. A low and long, throaty growl outflows him the moment you put one of your hands on his ballsack and caress it. Your other hand takes possession of the log, helping the sucking while you stimulate him. The moment you hear a low cracked moan, your throat prepares for the spill. His taste tickles your buds as the head spits one rope of cum after another before he pulls out. Then he stares at you, mouth closed looking at him calmly before you swallow, and his eyes bulge before he smirks. “So mine.”

“ Je t’aime,” you pronounce with a love-hooded stare, making him change his expression to mimic yours.

“ Je t’aime aussi,” he replies, taking you by surprise with endearment, and then he moves to pull you up into a hug.

“ Ouh là là…” you reply, making him sit without letting go of the embrace. “Paris does make things to you, beau garçon.” He chuckles, knowing exactly what you mean.

I'm starting a schedule that I hope will be possible and will bring lots of content to this page.

I hope you enjoyed this Namjooning 🤭 Let me know your thoughts. See you soon! ~

I want to thank @ffion451

#taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #taehyung x reader #night in paris #love #secret relationship #bts smut #Smut

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fumikomiyasaki · 2 years

Note

[ GRAPPLE ] sender manages to pin receiver while play-wrestling

Tarak & Emma

[ NAP ] while receiver is resting, sender joins them in bed & cuddles up close

Damián & Carol

[ PORTRAIT ] sender does a photoshoot of receiver

Paris & Paula

[ NUZZLE ] sender presses their face into receiver’s neck

Sin & Rubina

[ MASSAGE ] sender rubs receiver’s back

Josephine & Belia

Domestic Intimacy

It was after a Photoshoot that Emma send Tarak a message to stop by her dorm room cause she wanted to see him... As he arrived as usually escorted so no fan could notice they were a couple he knocked at her door and she greeted him with a smile.

“I am glad you were able to come... after the stress today I just had to see you.... but also...”

Her soft smile turned into a confident smirk..

“This time I will not let you escape that easy.”

Before Tarak could say anything She already Grabbed his wrists and tried to wrestle him to bed like they usually practised in training... however give they often did this training together after a while he turned the tables on her and pinned her down... both breathing a bit heavy from the exhaustion.

“I... told you I am not going down with a fight...”

“Tarak... you should know that I still will try...”

“You got better... I gotta say that..”

“Just lean down here and kiss me... so we can resolve this.”

Hearing her request he let go of her arms and leaned down allowing her to pull him into a hug and kiss him back...

“I really needed this.. thank you.”

The tutoring lessons and the whole day just really made her tired... she actually wanted to visit Damián to spend some time with him but... in the end it just got to her laying on his bed listening to him before slowly closing her eyes from time to time.

“Mi Amor... if you are tired you should rest.”

“I am sorry.... I wanted to be fit to spend time with you but... Ace and Deuce cost me all my nerves today...”

“Its fine... just sleep and we can talk tomorrow.”

As she lightly turned around he layed next to her, pulling her close to his body and hugging her tight... it was like a big and warm blanket but better... and although the light breath on her neck made her shiver happily she ignored it... at least untill she heard some light sniffing noises going red.

“Are you sniffing my hair again?”

“The apple scent is just really good.”

She turned back to him and tried to raise her head to nuzzle his nose and give him a short kiss.

“Good night then... love you.”

As she said that she leaned a bit against his chest and hugged him close, drifting into sleep. Having calm dreams about them.

Paula and Paris met up to promote Paulas Beauty channel and make some nice Beach photos...Paris knew from her own modeling how to draw the best of her and after it Paula just gushed about the photos.

“Its wonderful Darling... I love them all... your such a sweetheart for helping me out.”

“As Transmodels its good to support each other but also... you just look so good in this really... you have to ask about these shoes and if they are available in my size.”

Paula smiled at her. “Of course, you will get top brands quickly from me.”

It was a bit silent as they looked through the pictures...

“Paris... you really should join my next collection, the outfits fit well for both of our styles and also.”

She lightly put and arm around her. “I really enjoy your company.”

“The same goes for me... fine call me when it happens.”

Ruby just woke up lightly... a bit hazy and still a drained in energy as she noticed someone with her in her bed... Sin seemed to have snucked in at night and huddled against her... as she tried to lift his arm from him to get up he not only hugged her little tighter but also nuzzled his head in her neck causing her to squirm.

“Sin... wake up... I don’t want to have wounds there again.”

As she lightly pressed her knuckles to his head he woke up with a smile.

“Morning my precious Ruby gem, Slept well?”

“Yes but... can you warn me next time before just sleeping next to me.”

“You seemed cold at night and I thought you liked it?”

She sighed but then hugged him to her chest.

“I did don’t worry. It just surprised me.”

Belia strechted her arms up a little tired. The last days were full of preparations for the upcoming events... and so her body has grown a little tired from all the activities. Josphine who often visited her cause of her crush on Belia noticed Belias posture not being as usual. “Hey how about I’ll give you a little massage, they do help me when I am stressed.”

“Josie, if you manage to get these knots out I will be indebted to you... they pain me the whole week.”

Hearing that she excited moved up to Belias back and started kneading her. However the sudden smell of Cherries coming from Belias hair kind of distracted her... it smelled really good...

“Oh can you go a bit lower?”

Being so close and able to touch her while massaging let her face grow even redder, she didn’t notice that Belia turned around.

“Are you alright, you seem like you have Fever?”

“I-its fine really.... is it okay how I do it?”

“Its perfect, please continue.”

And so she endulged a little more untill Belia was sighing in relief feeling her back work again and thanking her for it.... she would cherish her thanks and this feeling for a while.

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enchantestuff · 3 years

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promises - red bull Sebastian vettel

as I promised just complete fluff and no smut. our poor seb isn't appreciated enough so here is the four times Sebastian jokingly proposed to you and the one time he actually did

NOT MY GIF

warnings; none really, fluff (btw this made me realise how TERRIBLE I am at writing fluff sorry <3 )

2.1k words, she's long

Sebastian was nervous about getting a new engineer, he so badly wanted to win a championship with Redbull and Christian had confided in him, telling him that this engineer and their new competitive car, would help him live out his dream of being a Formula One champion.

It was nearing the start of the new season and Sebastian had still yet to meet the person that he would be talking to under his most stressful moments and who he had to have full faith in while driving his car. He had begun to think that maybe he never would meet his new engineer when he received a call from Christian, telling him that they both would take place in a race for the Redbull youtube channel, where Sebastain and his new engineer would race against Mark and his, the twist being that the engineers would be the ones driving, not the drivers themselves. Sebastian agreed knowing that it would be a great way to remove any awkwardness between the two of you.

Only a few days later Sebastian was standing on a random racetrack, talking to Mark when he noticed Mark's engineer walking towards them with a beautiful young lady by his side, who Sebastian assumed was his very own engineer. “Hi! It's so nice to meet you Sebastian! My name's Y/N,” you cheerfully greeted him as you shook his hand.

A smile immediately appeared on Sebastian's face at your warm nature and he knew you two would get along just fine. “Please, call me Seb, '' he grinned as he brought a kiss to your knuckles, “now, are you ready to beat these idiots” he joked as he cocked his head towards your opponents.

“Oh, we are going to make a great pair, Seb” you joked as you accepted a helmet off Christian and climbed into the car, getting comfortable inside of the driver's seat.

“Are you a good driver?” Sebastian asked as he secured himself in the passenger's side of the car.

“I don't think I can call myself a good driver with a future Formula One champion sitting right next to me” you smiled as you drove the car to the start line. Sebastian smiled before he braced himself as the flag spun, indicating the start of the race. His head knocked against the headrest as you sped through the track, blocking Mark's engineer as he tried to overtake you and weaving through deadly corners with minimal braking.

It was when the car drifted across the finish line that Seb turned towards you with a wide grin plastered on his face, his heart was thumping hard in his chest with adrenaline. “Please marry me” he joked and you laughed as you high fived him, pleased with your small victory.

* * *

The atmosphere around the paddock was tense, the drivers championship standings were close. Sebastian could almost taste the victory, but he still had a lot of work to do. He had what he would consider a terrible qualifying and had spent the whole night before the race brainstorming ideas on how to improve his time, however nothing seemed to be working.

Everyone was stressed in the Redbull motorhome the following day, which was never something you liked to see, but you understood it as you too had a sleepless night. You pulled Seb to the side the minute you saw him and told him of the new strategy you dreamt up late last night. He was hesitant since it hadn’t been approved by anyone, but he was willing to take the risk if it meant he would win.

“Are you sure?” he had asked you, looking intently into your eyes.

You shook your head. “No not really, but I know you and I know you're the only driver that could make it work” you confided. You both stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Seb pulled you in for a hug, he gently stroked your back as he squeezed you into him. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and hugged him back with just as much force.

“I trust you” he whispered into your ear and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Good luck” you spoke as you gave him a final squeeze and pulled away. You bit your nails out of anticipation and shot Seb an encouraging grin as he climbed into his car.

The race went much better than expected and although Christian was furious that you didn't run the plan through him first, he was satisfied that Seb was currently P1 with a final lap to go. Your nerves were at an all time high throughout the race and you could feel the grin creeping onto your face as the end got closer and closer.

It was when Sebastian crossed the checkered flag that you let out a relieved laugh. “P1 Seb! P1! '' you grinned as you spoke to him through his earpiece.

“Ahhhh thank you, Y/N! Will you and your strategy marry me please?” he laughed

“Congratulations,” you smiled “I’ll see you up on the podium”

You practically ran to the podium with the rest of the team, grinning up at Sebastian as he lifted the trophy into the air and you could almost swear he was grinning right back at you. You clapped and hollered at him and a blush crept up your cheeks when you saw him mouth a “Thank you” in your direction.

* * *

It was inevitable that you and Seb would become close, but you two had a very different relationship compared to the other drivers and their engineers. While the other pairs spent their time going over the car's performance and new strategies, you spent yours pressed up against the wall of your office while Sebastian kissed you with as much force as he could muster. Your most heated and intimate moments were just after a race when he was full of energy and you were full of pride.

Behind closed doors you and Sebastian could almost be compared to lovers, but out in the public eye you two kept things strictly professional, which is why you were full of shock the night that Sebastain had won his title.

The whole Redbull garage and the majority of the drivers went out to celebrate Sebastian as well as an amazing season. You had congratulated him at the start of the night, you shared a quick kiss when you were sure nobody was looking and he had bought you a drink. You hadn't seen him since, however and spent the last few hours talking to random drivers and team principals.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you felt two hands land firmly on your waist. You turned your head to see a tipsy Sebastian Vettel smiling at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “And there's the main man himself,” you giggled as you turned around to face him.

“I missed you,” he blurted out as his hands travelled dangerously low for a public event.

“Did you?” you asked “you're the one that disappeared for an hour” you continued as you tapped his chest.

“Kimi wanted to take shots,” he grinned as one hand moved to cup your bum.

“Sebastian!” you scolded as you swatted his hand away.

“What? It's not like i've never done that before”

“Well yeah, but-but not in public’ you whispered as you looked around, wondering if anyone had noticed the exchange between the two of you.

“I want you,” Sebastian declared, suddenly looking much more sober as he stared into your eyes.

“Let's take this conversation outside” replied as you took a step away from him. Sebastian sighed as he took your hand and led you out the doors, he didn’t care who saw as you both walked by, he didn’t care about anything anymore, he was sick of hiding his feelings for you from everyone. He wanted people to know you were his, he wanted to hold your hand in the paddocks and kiss you for good luck before a race.

Sebastain could feel his heart hammering in his chest as you paced back and forth in front of him, your hands rubbing your arms for warmth. He took a step towards you and grabbed your face with his hands. “Look at me. I want to make us official” you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off “No listen to me. I need to say this. i don't want to sneakily glance at you during meetings anymore. I want to marry you one day. God! I want to marry you, Y/N! Is that not obvious?”

“Ok” you spoke, a blush rose to your cheeks and you cheekily grinned at him.

‘What?” Sebastian stuttered

“Let's make it official”.

* * *

You and Sebastian had been publicly dating for a little over a year and you were beyond happy. It was currently his birthday and you woke up early to make him breakfast. You both had celebrated the night before and you had to admit you were still sore but you wanted his day to be as special as him.

Sebastian tossed and turned in his sleep, frowning as he felt the cold sheets next to him instead of your warm body. His eyes fluttered open as his eyebrows furrowed. A smile soon made its way onto his face as he smelt the heavenly scent of breakfast. He turned to stand up but immediately sat back down at the sound of your voice. “No! Dont get up!” you pleaded and he laughed at the sight of you struggling to hold the breakfast tray in your hands.

“You shouldn't have, liebe” he muttered as he helped you place the breakfast tray on the bed.

“Maybe” you shrugged as you sat down next to him, “but I wanted to, now go on! Try it!” you encouraged as you practically shoved the plate into his face.

“Okay, okay” he laughed as he defensively put his hands up. You watched him as he put a fork full of food into his mouth, his eyes involuntarily shut as a quiet moan left his mouth. “Mmm marry me” he said once he swallowed the food.

“Is it okay?” you asked nervously as you played with your hands, it was your first time cooking for him and although it was just breakfast, you still wanted to make a good impression.

Sebastians head flipped in your direction, a shocked look plastered on his face. “It's better than okay, darling. Thank you. I love it. I love you”

Your heart fluttered once you heard those three words come out of his mouth. You grinned so hard that your cheeks began to hurt. “Oh god, please say something” he pleaded and he began to think that he spoke those words too soon.

“I love you, Sebastian” you spoke as you wrapped your arms around him and straddled his hips, placing kisses all over his face before finally collecting your lips.

* * *

It was yours and Sebastains anniversary but you both had decided that you wouldn't do anything special, you were just going to get takeout and watch a movie.

You pulled into the house with the food in your hands. You unlocked the door and called out to your boyfriend, “Honey, I’m home!” you joked, locking the doors behind you kicking your shoes off. You placed the food on the table next to the door and turned around, the sight in front of you shocking you as you let out a loud gasp.

Sebastian was kneeling on the floor with a ring in his hand, rose petals littered around him. You couldn't focus on the gorgeous dinner he had laid out on the table or the sweet music playing on the radio, you could only look at his glossy eyes and nervous face.

“Y/N, darling, I love you. I think i've loved you since I first laid eyes on you on that racetrack.” he laughed and looked down at the floor before connecting his eyes with yours again,”You have been with me through my lowest lows and my highest highs and somehow still manage to look at me with a glimmer in your eyes. There's nothing I can’t do with you by my side. So i’m asking-no-i'm practically begging you to finally marry me, for real this time. Will you do me the honours and become my wife?”

You nodded at him with tears in your eyes as you took small steps towards him. “I want to hear you say it, liebe”

“Yes, Sebastian! Of course I’ll marry you”

#Sebastian Vettel imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #Sebastian vettel #f1 #Sebastian Vettel imagines #formula 1 x reader

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

Fan with Benefits (Part Two)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,229

Warning: Smut

Notes: As usual, this is fiction and has nothing to do with Cillian’s real life.

Just after you gotten of the phone with Cillian, your friend and roommate Katherine asked you who it was and, when you told her, it almost blew her mind.

‘He is coming here? Oh my god’ she said almost shocked before asking you the all-important question as to whether you wanted her to leave when he did.

‘It’s fine. He is just coming here to sign the paperwork for the artwork he is buying’ you explained.

‘To your apartment? Common, don’t be so naïve. It’s a booty call’ Katherine said and you surely hoped that it was, although you didn’t want to get your hopes up. After all, you knew that he was married.

After a bit more conversation, Katherine convinced you to be prepared, freshly shaved and showered and told you that she would leave at around 6 o’clock.

***

At 4 o’clock you attended your usual yoga class and, in order to save some time, you had a shower at the gym following your class before making your way back home so that you could tidy up and apply some make up.

To your surprise, when you walked into the apartment building, you saw Cillian sit on one of the arm chairs near the elevators.

‘You are early’ you said as you returned.

‘Yes, I am. I ended up getting an earlier flight and texted you’ Cillian then said and you quickly pulled out your phone and realised that he had, indeed, texted you but you didn’t see this message until now.

‘Sorry, I have been out and didn’t check my phone’ you said nervously. You were worried that Katherine had left the apartment in a mess, giving you no chance to tidy up now before Cillian’s arrival.

***

‘Common in’ you said as you reached the second floor of the building and unlocked the door to your apartment. You were impressed that Katherine had not only picked up after herself as promised, but even had left on a couple small lamps to dim the living room slightly.

To your surprise, there also was glassware on the kitchen counter, a fresh bottle of red wine and a packet of condoms which you hoped Cillian wouldn’t notice. You could imagine the inevitable interrogation to ensue the next day, regardless of what happened and you were embarrassed beyond believe.

‘Red wine and condoms?’ Cillian chuckled as he looked towards the kitchen counter and your cheeks turned red immediately and you wanted to sink into the ground.

‘Oh my god. Uhm, this stuff belongs to my roommate’ you explained shyly and nervously, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘Are you sure? Because there is a note saying “Y/N, just in case you need them. Have fun”’ Cillian laughed, reading out the little note that Katherine had stuck to the packet of condoms.

‘Uhm, yeah, no, this stuff is hers. I know nothing about this’ you huffed out with total embarrassment.

‘That’s a shame. I really felt like a glass of wine and perhaps something else as well’ Cillian winked as he placed the packet of condoms and note back onto the kitchen counter.

‘Uhm, well, you can…I mean we can…aren’t you married?’ you then stammered.

‘My wife doesn’t mind. In fact, I told her about the nice young lady I met at the gallery last night’ Cillian then said, moving closer towards you.

‘So, is this why you are here?’ you asked nervously, biting your lip.

‘I thought that was obvious’ Cillian then chucked and you felt even more embarrassed than before.

You shook your head nervously. It wasn’t obvious to you at all.

‘Well, obviously your friend thought it was obvious’ Cillian then chuckled and, just as he did, one of his hands caressed your cheeks.

‘She did’ you said before taking up all of your courage and leaning forward towards him which is when his lips met yours in a tentative kiss

‘How did you know that I would want to sleep with you?’ you then asked after your lips drifted apart.

‘I didn’t. I was just being hopeful. Although, I saw the way you kept looking at me last night’ he then said as he leaned against you, pressing your shorter frame against the kitchen counter, and kissing you again.

Your mouths were totally connected now.Your tongues were swirling, darting and exploring each other while the kiss refused to end.

His hands were moving up your sides, gently pressing in against the swell of your ample breasts. At the same time, you digged your fingernails into his back and then grabbed hold of his neck, desperately pulling his face closer towards you.

The smell of his chest and cologne was intoxicating and you were lost in a trance. Was this really happening?

***

‘Where is your bedroom Y/N? I am all for comfort’ Cillian chuckled as your lips drifted apart and he pulled four condoms out of the packet Katherine had left on the counter for you.

‘Four? Do we really need that many?’ you asked surprised while Cillian’s fingertips had begun meandering up and down your forearm.

‘Well, as you have already pointed out, I am married so this will be a one-night thing and I really want to make the most of it’ Cillian then whispered into your ear as your skin bristled at the sensation on your arm and you relished his scent.

‘So, I guess I will be sore tomorrow then, hmm?’ you asked seductively, biting your lip.

‘It’s likely, but I will make it worth it for you. Despite, I will make use of all you have to offer so that your already soaking pussy can have a rest in between’ Cillian then said in between more and more kisses while he slid one of his hands beneath your dress and panties, collecting some of your juices with his fingers.

You couldn’t help but moan and wanted him to keep his hands right there, in between your legs, but he didn’t.

‘Common, I want to taste you’ Cillian then said, taking you by the hand and urging you to show him to your bedroom.

***

Within less than a minute, you found yourself completely naked on your large Queen bed while Cillian stood in front of it, wearing nothing but his tight blue jeans.

You took it all in, his scent, the glow of his freckled skin and the feel of the little bit of hair on his chest.

Never, in your wildest dreams, did you think that you would ever get to have this man and, whilst you were a little inexperienced, you decided that you would let him have it all. All of you, just as he had requested.

‘What are you waiting for Mr Murphy? I am all yours’ you said eagerly, waiting for him on the bed.

‘Just admiring the view’ Cillian said as he was taking off his watch and placing it onto your dresser along with his phone before climbing onto the bed with you.

When he did, you anticipated him to kiss you but he had other things in mind.

‘Spread your legs’ he demanded and, without thought your legs parted and his head disappeared in between them almost eagerly.

Without warning, his tongue immediately located the hood of your clit, causing you to scream out loud.

Your reaction clearly made him smile as, with all of the anticipation and new sensations, a cold sweat beaded up on your brow.

‘So fucking wet, aren’t you?’ Cillian groaned as his tongue kept swirling around your clit and then, occasionally, slid up and down in between your slit, lapping up your juices.

You flooded your channel as Cillian almost sent you over the edge with his skilled tongue alone and, in that moment, two of his fingers slid over your wet folds, slowly parting your well lubricated lips and entered you.

‘Oh my god’ you groaned as your flower opened and the invaders found the way to your previously unexplored g-spot.

He manipulated you, edging you slowly with his thrusting fingers and tongue. He had you on the brink and you were about cum.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned again as chills ran up both your legs and you trembled involuntarily. Your orgasm hit you right then and there, fast and hard and somewhat unexpectedly.

You came all around Cillian’s fingers within five minutes and, whilst you were almost embarrassed by how quick you came, he was rather pleased with himself.

‘So needy. I will have a lot of fun with you’ he observed as you finally came down from your high and allowed you some time to relax.

When you had finally recovered from your intense orgasm, Cillian pulled you off the bed.

Then he took a step closer to you and immediately started undoing his belt buckle and opening his fly. You instinctively dropped to your knees with a smile on your face and as he unzipped his pants you grabbed the waistband of his jeans and his Calvin Klein briefs and began slowly tugging them down.

First you saw his dark pubic hair, then the top of his cock shaft, and as you pulled his bottoms further down his cock sprang forth in all its erect glory. You actually jumped a little when it leaped out at you, a fact that he noticed.

‘Are you going to be a good girl and take my cock all the way into your mouth?’ he asked in a deep voice, sending shivers down your spine.

‘I sure will, after I have a little play with it first’ you replied as you took his cock in your hand eagerly. This was all you had ever fantasised about and wanted to take in everything, the look of it, the feel of it and its scent.

At first you just stroked Cillian’s cock slowly and observed it as it began to swell even more in your hand. You moved in closer to get your other hand on his balls and you could smell his musk. It was intoxicating to you! As you gently massaged Cillian’s testicles you could feel how full they were and you couldn't help it anymore. you needed to taste him.

You stuck out your tongue and licked his shaft from his balls all the way up to the tip. Then you swirled your tongue around the tip a few times as he growled under his breath. Finally, you completely enveloped Cillian’s cock head with your lips and started sucking him. You let lots of saliva dribble out of your mouth to keep the shaft lubricated as you continued to stroke him.

‘Fuck, that’s it’ Cillian groaned as you kept at it, working his shaft with one hand, massaging his balls with the other, and sucking him for several minutes. He had his hands on your head guiding his cock in and out of your mouth.

Eventually, Cillian tightened the grip he had on the back of your head and pushed you further down on his shaft until, finally, he bottomed out against the back of your throat.

You gagged, saliva dripping out of your mouth as the wetness in between your legs was building.

‘You are doing so fucking well’ he groaned again as you gave into his force and let him take your mouth as you were moaning around his thick member.

Eventually, Cillian released his grip against your head and let you get back to work at your own pace, and you continued giving him a slobbery blowjob. This time, you forced yourself further and further down his long shaft, making yourself gag and listening to him groan in approval.

One of your hands kept a firm grip on his balls while the other stroked him up and down in tempo with your head bobbing.

His groans were getting louder and you moaned softly against him, slurping loudly as you moved, letting his cock hit or lightly ease into your throat every time you sank down. You gave him long strides, really making sure all of his cock was getting some form of attention.

‘Fuck’ he murmured, starting to squirm. ‘I am close’ he then groaned and you were really curious what his cum would taste like.

Cillian’s groans and moans just made you work harder. You wanted his orgasm to be nice and intense, so you ramped up the speed and your slurping noises were getting even louder as you milked his cock faster.

Cillian’s hand found its way back to your head, his fingers getting locked in your hair as he got closer and closer until finally, he started to cum.

‘Fuck’ he groaned again as his hips twitched upwards, trying to get deeper into your mouth as he filled it with his load.

‘I want to watch you swallow it Love’ he groaned as he held your head against his cock while he filled your mouth. His cum was so thick and sweet and coated your tongue, making you drool even more as you collected it all in your mouth.

Then, finally, he released the grip on your head and pulled away from you and lifted up your cum filled mouth for him to see.

‘Show me’ he groaned, still coming down from his high and you complied with his request and opened your mouth, moving your cum covered tongue around seductively.

Then, you closed your mouth again and swallowed down his load, gulping slightly as you did before licking your lips clean seductively.

‘So fucking sexy’ Cillian huffed out before pulling you up and towards him.

He pressed his lips onto yours and practically growled, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you ferociously which was when, suddenly, his phone began to ring.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @ @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15 @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r @tellingyouastory @captivatedbycillianmurphy @namelesslosers @littlewhiterose @ttzamara @ttzamara @cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian

@severewobblerlightdragon @ysmmsy

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

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kaz11283 · 3 years

Note

Could I make a request: Reader is ill (fever, headache, etc) and Loki comes home to find her fast asleep whimpering in her sleep from being ill and burning up from the fever? Something along those lines, feel free to take creative liberty, haven’t been feeling great lately and would love some comfort. Love your work 💕

Yes my sweet dear! I really hope that you get to feeling better soon! Thank you for the request and for the support! I am sending you some comfort vibes right now as we speak as well as some Loki Love i truly hope this helps you to feel better!

~~~~

Characters: Nat, Loki, Clint, you

(Loki x reader) (Clint x reader, brother)I know I've done this but I just love the idea of being siblings with Clint (Nat x reader, friends

Summary: After a beautiful snow fall you and the team decide to go outside and enjoy the day off, of course knowing your luck you would be the one who got sick.

Announcement: Individual request sent in, i am more that happy to write anything that is thrown my way (even though it might take some time) i inow what its like not feeling good and jusy wanting some comfort and to be loved on so I hope you truly enjoy this!

Loki Masterlist

~~~~

Your nose was red as you made it back to the cabin were you and the team had decided to vacation for a little down time, of course it wasnt your normal run of the mile cabin not with Tony bank rolling the whole thing. It was a rustic 4 story cabin with 3 rooms on each floor, a huge fire place that literally sat in the middle of the house (you didnt really cared how it worked you just knew it looked cool), a huge kitchen and living room sat on the first floor.

"I cant believe i let him talk me into that." You mummbled making your way to the fire place. Clint, your wonderful older brother had decided that the team should have a snow ball fight, you know "team building exercise" as he called it. You had of course been on opposing sides since it would be fair for two Bartons to be on the same team as Tony had said.

"You should know his tricks by now y/n, you've only known him all your life." Nat laughed walking in the door after you shacking snow from her hair.

"I didnt expect him to peg me in the side of the damn head. OR tackle me to the ground and shove my face in the snow." You grumbled. "Hes lucky he ran before I could get up."

"I'm pretty sure he's hidding in a tree somewhere." She laughed again.

"Good, the bird can stay in his roost for all I care. I'm going to go take a nice hot shower and a nap. Let the others know please." You walked off toward the steps that lead to yours and your boyfriends room. "Hey Nat, try to make sure the others are nice to Loki? The only reason hes here is so that he could try to get closer to them."

"Yeah, him being able to spend as much time with you as possible was not his intentions at all." She stated rollingbher eyes.

"Thanks." You went and took the hottest shower you could stand enjoying the steam as it enveloped you before you got out wrapped yourself up in a big fluffy towle and made your way into the living area. This was another nice room, hell every inch of this place was nice though. It wasnt like your "mini apartment" as you liked to call your room at the tower, but it still had a seprate smaller living area with a couch and a recliner, the bed was on the oyher side of a patrician looking out of the floor to celing window. You didnt want to lay there because it was so bright so after digging around in your bag and pulling out a pair of black shorts and one of Lokis green pullovers you decided to crash on the couch. After a few minutes of watching some random cooking show you dozed off engulfed in your boyfriends sent lulling you to your dream world.

You woke with a start when you felt something pressong aginst your forehead, you felt like you hadnt been asleep for very long, lookinh atound you realized first that it was dark outside, and second your muscles all over was sore and stiff feeling.

"Shhhh, Its just me, my darling." Loki ran his hand down your cheek softly. "I came to check on you, I realized you must not be feeling good when you were whimpering in your sleep." You then noticed that your throat was sore.

"I dont whimper." It came out horse, youtried to clear your throat as much as you could.

"You did, it was adorable." He smiled. He walked around the couch to take a seat next to you. "Your not feeling well. I can feel it." He had a look of worry. He always went on and on about how vulnerable mortals were and you wasnt doing anything to prove him wrong at this moment.

"Loki, I promise the worst this is is a cold that I technically caught from my idiot brother. Ill be fine in a few days. The only thing that aucks is I'll be stuck in here while the rest of you are out having the time of your lives." You huffed pulling the pillow under your head better.

"The rest of you? My dove, I can promise there is no rest of you if your not going to be there. The only reason I came on this dreaded team building experience is because of you." He offered you his hand and helped you stand so that he could guide you to the bed. "Lets lay here and watch the snow fall." He pulled your side of the blankets down and help you under them.

"That sounds like a plan Loki. Although I am a little hungry." You sat in bed as you watched him strip from the clothes he had been wearing all day and changing into a pair of black sleep pants. He started digging again. "I have your hoodie on." He looked over and shook his head with a smile.

"It looks better on you anyways. Of course I should have known that you would try to get me naked." He laughed. "Your brother saod he would bring something up in a bit. I had text him and told him you wasnt feeling all that well."

You stared in shock, "Textjng my brother? Looks like you have made some new friends."

"I wouldnt go that far, he said that he was afraid of you even if you were sick and I was probably the safest one in the room. He is going to vring a peace offering though." He pulled the blankets up around him as he settled in bed.

"The hawk shouldnt have flown his roost. Ill kill him once I get to feeling better." You grumbled.

"Sleep now my darling, get some rest. When we wake in the morning, of you are feeling any better, we will plot domination over your brother then." You felt him wrap his arms around you and kiss the top of your head before drifting off once more.

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retvenkos · 3 years

Text

to dance among the stars | c.b.

Bridgerton - Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader, fluff requested by @musicallisto

tw: talk of marriage

word count: 1.4k

prompt: “Dance with me?”

A/N: I started writing.... forgot i had a prompt to fit in... decided to just keep going and hope for the best. i feel like that meme “it’s not much, but it’s honest work.”

Summary: (Y/n) hated dances and balls, but if there was anyone who could change their mind, it would be Colin Bridgerton.

(Y/n) laughed into the clear night air, throwing her head back in blissful happiness, unaware of the way that Colin Bridgerton looked at her - as though his whole life was in her smile. A clement wind greeted the two on their stroll, allowing the music from the nearby ball to drift toward them, a sound much more soft and inviting now that there was distance between the two and the dance floor.

“You, Colin, will be the death of me,” (Y/n) said, her words like a happy sigh, a gentle ending to her enjoyment of his presence.

“The death of you? I thought I heroically saved you from having to entertain suitors all evening,” he teased, straightening his jacket dramatically, as though they were in one of (Y/n)’s novels - the kind with epic romances and gruesome battles. (Y/n) scoffed, swatting him on the shoulder. “I am your knight in shining armor, aren’t I?”

“Well, yes—” Colin chuckled, earning a smile “—but I saved you from your mother. She’s been looking for a project now that Daphne’s entertaining the prince, is she not?”

“My mother is always looking for something.” Colin rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I won’t be properly saved until I marry some girl from the ton.”

“Oh.” Colin’s words ushered in an awkward lapse of silence that had both of them turning away from each other, taking a sudden interest in their shoes. They slowed their walk to a stop, and the breeze drifted between them, as though pushing them apart.

It was silly that something like a wayward comment could reduce them to silence, but the future lay within that statement - a future fast approaching and terrifying in its weight. The ton was designed for marriage. Here, at these balls and parties, both of them were supposed to find someone to marry - to bind themselves to another for the rest of their lives.

Another couple walked past the two and (Y/n) watched them go, disappearing into the evening - perhaps to dance among the stars.

“Well... is there someone who’s caught your eye?” (Y/n) fidgeted with her gloves as she spoke, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer. Colin had always been a flirt, and his romantic tendencies had always been something (Y/n) both admired and teased, and yet to know if his heart truly lied with one of them was the very thing she wanted least. Being out here with Colin - away from everyone else and anything that might stand between them - was the only thing that made the ton worthwhile. All else paled in comparison to these moments seemingly stolen from the flow of time, where they were two souls together, walking the same path for a brief while, hearts close enough to touch.

To have them be taken away would be too much of a heartache. Worse than anything she could fathom.

Colin looked at (Y/n) with his brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, (Y/n) took hold of the conversation once more.

“Perhaps Marina Thompson? She was quite popular before she fell ill. Will you be the one to ask for her hand, at the end of the season?”

“Miss Thompson is a fine girl, but... no.” (Y/n) looked up abruptly and met Colin’s blinking stare. Even when baffled there was something light about him - kind and caring - it tugged on her heart more than she cared to admit. “I would much rather wait than make a hasty match.”

“Hasty?” (Y/n) stifled a laugh, the mature word - not at all like the Colin she knew - bringing humor back into the conversation. Colin was forcing down a blush, his cheeks warming in color, like roses beneath his skin.

“I just mean I want to love my wife before we get married, instead of having to force feelings after the fact.”

(Y/n) smiled, taking a step closer to lock arms with Colin once more. “I hope you get to.”

The two resumed their walk, never going too far from the festivities to be considered improper, but managing to stay well away from anyone else. Colin admired the way that (Y/n) looked under the night sky - her beauty something wholly unique to her, and yet perfectly matched to the darkening sky. In the light of her eyes lay all the beauty of the cosmos, and in her smile lay all the thrills of the world. All the universe was captured in her essence, and Colin knew that all of his longing for travel could be satiated with a single touch; a kiss from (Y/n) could carry all of the wonders of the world, and no matter how many times he visited her touch, he would never lose his wanderlust.

(Y/n) fixed him with a look, as though they could sense that his thoughts rested with them.

Colin cleared his throat. It was one thing to care for (Y/n) - it was quite another to admit he had fallen in love. “What about you? Surely you’ve found a suitor who is the least bit exciting?”

“They think themselves exciting, if that is answer enough,” (Y/n) sighed, looking at Colin through the corner of her eye. “But truly Colin, having to entertain them is the worst part about these dances.”

"Even worse than dancing? I know you avoid getting out on the floor like it’s the plague.”

“Because when you’re on the dance floor, you’re trapped! That’s when entertaining suitors is at its worst.” Colin chuckled at (Y/n)’s words. “If I had a choice, I would come to these balls and the only man I would dance with is you.”

“Me?”

(Y/n) nodded.

Colin paused and they drew to a halt so he could better marvel at the woman before him. “If you had your choice in the matter, wouldn’t you rather avoid the dance floor altogether?”

“No,” (Y/n) said, dipping her head with a look that said she had spoken too much but was too fond of what she said, and not keen on taking it back. “I suppose I would like to dance with you.”

You’d dance with me?”

(Y/n) scoffed. “Well, I know you enjoy it.”

And around them, the world was hushed. The voices and sounds of the nearby ball were drowned out by the thumping of their hearts. Colin looked at (Y/n) and saw them so clearly, he was almost taken aback. How could one be so beautiful that their existence shamed a sky full of stars?

“Dance with me, then?”

He spoke before he acted, but it wasn’t long before his hand was outstretched, waiting for (Y/n) to take it.

“Right here?” But her hand was already resting in his, her smile bright and warm. "There's no music."

"Then come a few steps this way." Colin pulled her a few paces closer to the ball. (Y/n) chuckled as Colin tugged on her arm, guiding them nearer. He put a finger on his lips to shush her, causing (Y/n) to roll her eyes, smiling all the while. The soft lilt of music was slightly louder, here, but still distant enough that they had to be silent to hear the beat. Colin took a step closer, and although there were still enough space between them and enough bystanders around for their actions to be considered proper, there was an intimacy in the moment to make (Y/n)’s cheeks heat up.

"Is it loud enough for you to hear?” Colin whispered.

"It's perfect."

Adjusting his hand in hers, Colin led (Y/n) into a dance, smiling at her in a way that could only be described as lovestruck. His entire being was in awe of her as they spun around each other, like the moon in orbit of the earth. There was something heavenly in (Y/n)’s eyes, and when the song ended, the light in them did not fade.

“I love you,” Colin breathed, the words falling out of his mouth before he had the time to realize he had said them. It was the purest of admissions, one he hadn’t planned or even dreamed of admitting until the very moment he said it. “I-I love you,” he repeated, as though he needed to affirm the truth.

“Colin, I love you, too.” And all the world was in their smile, once again, all of the universe seemingly wrapped up in their blissful words.

Colin let out a laugh that was almost a joyful sigh, and in his eyes were stars - constellations that burned brighter than the sun. He took (Y/n)’s gloved hand and kissed it, wishing it could be something more.

“Perhaps you will dance with me more often, then.”

“At every ball we attend.”

-- taglist: @findmeintheafterglow, @prttybitchin // message me if you want to be added!

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagines #one shot #imagine #fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #fluff #reader insert #fem!reader #i wanted to make it gender neutral but then i started talking about suitors and whatnot.#and finally. a decent fic title

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak Ave.

When they’re in love with you but you have feelings for a different member (Hyung line)

→ tags/warnings: SFW, angstyyyyy (like, I’m sorry but at the same time I wanted to write something sad), no, there’s not a happy ending really idk so read at your own heart’s risk, but like really. I was listening to “Manos de Tijera” while writing this so it’s a wee bit heartbreaking

→ a/n: I don’t really write reactions very often but this seemed fun when @sierra-fics brought it up! I actually have one of your suggestions in my drafts, just haven’t finished it up yet. Thanks for the push, though! I love exploring different styles!

read the maknae line version here!

Kim Seokjin

he’s not surprised

it’s probably the worst part for him, the fact that he’s not surprised when your eyes light up as Taehyung waltzes in the room.

he had been in the middle of plucking up the courage to invite you to try out that new Thai restaurant you’d been chattering about when Tae walked in

and you tried - you really did - to pay attention to what Jin had been saying, but you faltered a bit as Tae greeted you warmly and plopped down beside Jin

and Jin just watched, not surprised.

although what does surprise him is how much it hurts

that pain where your heart literally, physically hurts? it’s an exquisite pain, one that takes his breath away

and it doesn’t go away

it doesn’t fade

so he ends up in Namjoon’s studio later that night, and Namjoon knows to wait for him to open up

Jin just stares for a while, blankly at the wall

“Does Tae like her?”

Namjoon already knows who he’s referring to. He’s known about Jin’s helpless crush on you for ages, he knew before Jin himself figured it out

but it’s the way that Jin asks the question so softly, so carefully, that Namjoon realizes with a start that this is so much more than a crush

and Jin looks at him, misery clear in his eyes but also clear resolve visible even as unshed tears glimmer

“Would you really let her go?” Namjoon counters gently. Because he knows. He knows that if Tae got the green light, you'd be swept up in a matter of seconds.

and it’s the way that Jin stares down at his feet, and the tears begin rolling down his cheeks, that has Namjoon sick to his stomach

Jin nods, and when he speaks, his voice shakes but he sounds so earnest that it breaks Namjoon’s heart

“I’d do anything for her.”

no words are exchanged after that for a long, heart-wrenching moment. it’s just Jin, staring down at his feet and quietly sobbing, and Namjoon, pulling him into an embrace.

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

it’s surprising to Jin, just how much that soft phrase cuts through him. It sounds so final.

because at the end of the day, it’s the only solace that can be offered to him.

he lost.

he loved, and he lost.

Min Yoongi

you’re sitting beside him in his studio when the realization hits him like a freight train

sprawled sideways in your designated swivel chair while you stifle a yawn and rub your eyes, Yoongi wonders when he let his emotions get so out of hand

because you’re offering him a shy smile and asking him a question that he numbly answers, but on the inside he’s a total clueless mess

when did he fall in love with you?

it’s something that will haunt him long after you leave that night, rushing out when you get a call from Hobi

for the second time that night, he’s hit with another realization

he’s still reeling from the fact that he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you, so when you gasp and grin when your phone light up with a call, he falters

it’s like being doused with a bucket of ice water, the way you whisper, “oh, it’s Hobi!” and politely ask if you can take the call before rushing out into the hallway

“oh,” he mumbles to himself as the door closes. “it’s Hobi.”

and he laughs.

quietly, darkly. he laughs to himself, at himself, whatever.

because of course it’s Hobi. his best friend, his vitamin. you two deserve each other. of that much he’s certain.

he doesn’t waste too much time feeling sorry for himself; he’s logical enough to see that you two are probably a better match. it’s nothing personal.

so why does he stay in his studio all night, ignoring any calls or messages sent his way?

he’s not sure when he fell asleep, but next thing he knows he’s sprawled out on his little couch and you’re gently shaking him awake

“Yoongo? Did you stay here last night?”

his eyes crack open at the sound of your voice, just enough to be met with your sweet smile

and he, in his half-asleep state, smiles back. he reaches one hand up to gently brush back a strand of your hair, and he swears you lean into his touch

and when you mumble something about Hobi bringing breakfast up, Yoongi is hit with the third realization in less that twenty-four hours.

it’s startlingly simple:

he wants to cry.

so he excuses himself to the bathroom, and cries. sets a five minute timer so nobody gets worried and comes looking for him, and allows himself that time to cry.

then, with machine-like precision, he washes his face and puts some eyedrops in, and goes back out to pretend like everything is fine.

and whenever Jin or Taehyung bring up acting, Yoongi knows. He knows, deep down, that he’s the best actor of all.

because he still loves you

and you will never know.

Jung Hoseok

hobi has never been the most forthcoming with his emotions

he keeps them on lockdown

monitors them with military-like focus

so he knows the exact moment he begins developing feelings for you

(it’s when you brought Bang PD a bouquet for valentine’s day, just to make him blush)

and he knows the exact second when he fell in love

(it was when, after a grueling day at work, you silently walked through his door with his favorite goodies and left without a single word)

(you were wearing a yellow cardigan that day)

(he’s never looked at the color yellow the same way)

if he’s completely honest, he’s sometimes trying so hard to stay on top of his own feelings that he forgets to watch out for where your attention may be drifting

to be fair, you kept your own little crush on Jimin a secret

so when Hobi decides to get over himself and just shoot his shot, he decides he’s all in

and when you arrive at his apartment that night for a movie, you’re shocked to see a bouquet of yellow flowers in Hobi’s shaking hands

“hey” he breathes

you stare at the flowers, then at him

“hello...?” then, with a sinking felling, you point at the flowers. “are those for me?”

hobi smiles broadly. “yeah, they are.” and he hands them to you, allowing his fingers to brush up against yours

it’s electrifying, that small touch

and again, he’s so focused on how electrifying it is that he misses the way you look like you might be sick

pale face, concerned expression

he misses it all, because he’s so nervous but so stupidly in love that he’s just barreling ahead.

gotta get this out of the way

ugh, feelings

and so when he leads you to sit with him out on the balcony, he takes a deep breath and looks at you with wonder in his eyes

and that’s when he notices the way you’re fiddling with your bracelet

not a problem, except for the fact that it’s the one he saw Jimin carefully choosing from an online collection

so when you keep fiddling with the bracelet and avoiding Hobi’s eye contact, he gets it

he takes a long look at all those emotions he keeps in check, and allows himself a moment of self-pity before reaching out and laying a hand atop your own

you immediately stop fidgeting and look at him with wide eyes. he can see with a pang how you’re trying to come up with the best way to let him down easy

so he does the job for you

“I just wanted to say thank you for the other day,” he says, forcing a light tone. “when you brought me those goodies after work. It really meant a lot.”

you blink, confused. “Oh. uh, you’re welcome.”

“and,” he drawls, a well-rehearsed smile clawing its way onto his face, “I wanted to snoop and get the inside scoop about Jiminie. I know he got you that bracelet. did he finally cave and confess to you?”

you look shocked, but you burst out into relieved laughter. “how did you know?”

he didn’t. “how could I not? he’s absolutely whipped.”

and you blush under the stars and begin to ramble, lost in your excitement and joy.

and Hobi watches. smiling. supportive. laughing at the right spots and asking all the right questions.

later, when you give him a tight hug and thank him for the fun night, he lets the words sting as you call him “such a great friend.” he lets them sting, relishing in the pain.

he reminds you to take your flowers home, and you begrudgingly admit that they’re your favorite type of flower.

he didn’t know. but that hurts, too. the fact that he got it right.

Hobi never looks at the color yellow the same way again.

Kim Namjoon

he’s told you he loves you a million times now

every night, in every dream, he tells you how much he loves you

adores you with everything he is

you manage to find your way into his music, his musings, every piece of artwork he comes across

he's never been like this before

never, he’s sure of it

and everyone knows, except for you.

it becomes a strange game for the boys to play, dropping hints at every opportunity, laughing at your confused expression

Jungkook and Taehyung especially enjoy the chaos that they create, making Namjoon groan and grow embarrassed

but you have no idea

or are you just willfully ignorant?

all Namjoon knows is that he’s swimming in his feelings for you, completely lost and on the verge of drowning

but, oh, what a way to die

he’s never been able to stop himself when it comes to you

and he considers himself rather disciplined, but the way you make him feel he could throw caution to the wind and give it all up

so when you end up staying late one night at the apartment, the boys manage to convince you to stay

“there’s plenty of room” Jungkook muses, feigning deep thought. “besides, it’s too late for you to drive back tonight. just stay.”

and while Namjoon wants to kill them all for the way they offer up his bed to you, he thinks he might actually die when you reluctantly agree with a yawn

he knows he should offer to take the couch, but something stops him

it’s like he physically can’t

“I don’t mind sharing the bed” you state, squinting at him while wearing his basketball shorts and oversized t-shirt.

you look adorable. he’s unsure of how he’s even functioning right now, to be honest. he’s melting.

“just keep your snoring in check, loser”

and he’s back to laughing, turning off the light and hopping into bed

you’re so far away

why are you so far away?

“hey” he whispers, the sound so loud in the quiet. the only other sound is the muffled voices of the other members, no doubt down in the kitchen gossiping about the events of the night

“hey yourself” you whisper back, turning to face him

he can see you in the moonlight, his eyes having adjusted just enough.

and he wants to kiss you so badly

so he smiles, heart leaping when you smile back

and he reaches out, gently tracing your jawline.

you say nothing, heart thundering in your chest

because to be honest, you’re confused

why is he looking at you like that?

but you don’t ask as Namjoon takes a deep breath, steadying himself before propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at you with an adoring expression

your eyes flutter closed as he brushes his thumb against your cheek, and he can feel your heartbeat racing

your reaction gives him all the courage he needs as he leans down, lips capturing your own in a long, sweet kiss

and he’s going out of his mind because he finally kissed you, didn’t he?! finally!!

but those are your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling him in closer you’re gently pushing him away

“namjoon.”

he’s never hated his name so much.

“I’m so sorry- I- I thought that maybe-” he stutters, pulling himself upright as you do the same, and he launches out of bed, hands in his hair “I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

“Namjoon.” you repeat, and he notices now how utterly distraught you look.

because you’re still confused, but there’s one name rolling around in your head even as you can still taste namjoon on your lips.

“I...” you shake your head, unsure of what to say. “It’s just...”

and he’s looking at you with big eyes, taking in every single word you say. and you want to take it all back, want to let him kiss you until you’re breathless, but your heart won’t let you.

“Just what?” he asks quietly, afraid of the answer. so afraid

“...Jungkook.”

two syllables, and his world comes crashing down around him.

namjoon is silent, avoiding your gaze as he grabs one of the pillows off of the bed and a spare blanket, heading toward the door.

“I’ll sleep on the couch. I’m sorry.”

and he’s gone before you can utter another word.

sure enough, the boys are still downstairs, and they all fall silent as Namjoon appears, throwing the pillow down on the couch.

“Hyung!” Jungkook asks, scrambling over. “Hyung, what happened? What are you doing down here?”

Namjoon can’t bring himself to look at the maknae, not when he can still picture how it felt to kiss you. not when those few seconds of paradise are still on his lips.

“Didn’t wanna wake her up with my snoring.”

because how could he ever be angry at the boy that looks at him like he’s his savior?

m.list || buy me an orange juice?

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so other people can read it! 💖

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi@knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall@miriamxsworld @kayahay @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine@hqtetsurou @protontippens @beginwithamin @limiworld @jeonyoongi-jimin @buttvi @yoontaethings @sunshinejunghoseokie @delacyrose224@jiminiesmagicshop @hitsussi @fanfictonreader05 @hyungieyoongi @lolalee24

#bts reactions #namjoon reaction #jin reaction #yoongi reaction #suga reaction #hobi reaction #bts hyung line #bts angst #bts maknae line #bts x reader #this is seriously a bummer of a post lol #bts fanfic #bts scenarios

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Can’t Catch A Break

Pairing: Atsumu x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Rape/Non-Con, Violence, Choking, Overstimulation

Summary: Life has a twisted sense of humor and just when you think you're free of someone, they become entangled in your life once again. Just when you gain hope and see the light at the end of the tunnel, life comes crashing down with a new plot twist of its own.

You cringe at the pig-like squeals you hear from your female classmates as a certain blonde setter walks by.

Atsumu! You were amazing at the game last night! Atsumu! Can you teach me how to play?

Gagging at the disgusting scene, you raise the volume of your headphones, concentrating on the text in front of you, not even bothering to spare the athlete a glance as you finish up your homework before class starts. You’ve finally tuned everything out, biting your lower lip in concentration as your pen goes flying across your notebook, scrawling answers left and right, but you flinch at the sudden movement of someone’s hand waving in front of your face.

You scowl at the distraction, ready to give whoever it is a piece of your mind, but your irritation flies out the window and you grin when you meet Osamu’s gaze, beckoning him closer as you ask him some questions you had about last night’s assignment. And the two of you chat, heads close together as he points out a few mistakes you’d made, as you sheepishly laugh at your carelessness and thank him for his help as always, ignorant of the way Atsumu enviously stares at both of you, eyes narrowing at the way you give his brother all your attention, attention he’s never once received even a sliver of.

The Miya twins and you are technically childhood friends, although in reality, it’s really only Osamu who you consider to be your long-time friend and you scrunch your nose in displeasure when you remember meeting a young Atsumu for the first time, only for him to rip your favorite doll in half because you wouldn’t share your toy with him. Needless to say, neither of you really saw eye to eye after that and you ignored him for his quieter and kinder twin.

Years passed and yet stubbornness on both your parts made it impossible for you two to bridge the widening gap, Atsumu too stubborn to apologize, you too stubborn to be the bigger person and forgive him. And as the two of you only got older, Atsumu becoming even cockier and more obnoxious, you having other more important things to worry about than annoying rude boys, the two of you completely drifted apart.

But Atsumu watched over the years as you remained a frequent visitor to their house, watched as his parents welcomed you in like you were a part of the family, watched as you rushed past him to Osamu’s room without even a glance his way. He watched you grow older, grow more beautiful, grow even closer to Osamu until his parents wouldn’t stop joking and asking about when the two of you were finally going to start dating, only making the both of you laugh as you assure them that the two of you are just friends, always will be just friends.

He doesn’t doubt the truth in those words and yet, he can’t help but stare at his brother in disbelief. How could his brother not want you when you’re splayed on his bedroom floor with only a pair of shorts and tshirt, completely vulnerable as you talk about school and volleyball? How could his brother not yearn for you when you smile at him, eyes glimmering with joy as you giggle at something he says? How could his brother not desire you when you let out those delighted moans every time you take a bite out of something you like, your eyes closing in bliss in a way that has Atsumu’s throat going dry?

But the two of you stay true to your words, both of you going off to date other people throughout high school and college, and Atsumu judgmentally stares at the girls Osamu brings back to their shared dorm. They’re fine, he supposes, but none of them are you, none of them compare to you, and he questions his brother’s tastes as thoughts of you plague his mind.

He sees you during the holidays, when all three of you are back home from college, and his nails dig into his palms when he sees the faded hickey on your neck and listens to you gush about your newest and latest boyfriend to Osamu. And jealous anger courses through him as he eavesdrops on Osamu and you as both of you stay up late at night, chatting and catching up, sharing raunchy stories and advice of what to do or not to do during sex, and when he finally closes his eyes, he dreams that it’s him you’re talking about, him who’d fucked you silly in your dorm bed, him who had showed you just how intoxicating a bit of pain with your pleasure could feel.

But when he wakes up cold and alone in his bedroom the next morning, it’s all too clear it’s not him and as the three of you graduate from college and go off on your own paths, he pushes you to the back of his mind, adamant about forgetting you and leaving you in the dust, drowning you out with the resounding smacks of volleyball, the screeching of shoes skidding across the court.

Unfortunately for him, life has different plans and as he focuses on his athletic career, he’s unaware of the way Osamu coaxes you into working alongside him at his onigiri shop, unaware of how you’re once again entangled in the webs of his life and he freezes when he steps into his brother’s restaurant years later and sees you cheerily talking to a customer at the counter, an apron tied around you. And even after all this time, longing and desire crash into him at full force from just a glimpse of you.

This time he doesn’t let pride get in his way, desperation clawing at him and urging him forward, and something primal roars inside of him at the way your eyes go wide in surprise when you recognize him, at the way you stutter out the shop greeting. You’re adorable and he can feel his hands twitch, wanting to touch you and make sure you’re real, unbelieving that you’re so close, right in front of him after he had finally come to terms with the fact that he’d probably never see you again. But he restrains himself, warmly smiling at you and ordering his go-to set meal, making you promise that you’d sit and catch up with him after you’re done closing up and he seats himself in a corner of the restaurant where he can watch you for the rest of the night.

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you take a minute to fan yourself in the kitchen away from the prying eyes that have been locked on you for the last hour. You had been shocked to see the blonde and you chide yourself for your panicked reaction. Of course you were bound to see him at some point, especially now that you work with his brother. Osamu had mentioned that Atsumu visits from time to time and yet, the reality of it isn’t something you had been prepared for.

What game was Atsumu playing now? You shudder when you recall the sharp smile he had given you, the demand in his tone as he asked you to hangout with Osamu and him after closing.

A small part of you wonders if he’s changed, matured. It has been a long time since you’ve last seen him. Maybe you were overthinking things, making things up in your head because of your bad impressions of him when you were younger. But the larger part of you hisses for you to be careful, for you to be wary and you keep your defenses up even as you sit across from him, cups of piping hot tea in front of all three of you as Atsumu whines about not knowing that the two of you had decided to team up in this restaurant venture.

Objectively he’s handsome. He’s always been good looking, but it’s clear that being a professional athlete has even further developed him and you can appreciate the way he fills out his shirt more, the way his broad shoulders make a striking silhouette. And he doesn’t miss the hint of interest in your eyes as you take him all in, preening with pride and something darker now that he finally has your undivided attention. Too bad you’re just as sharp as him and you tense up at the brief glimpse of something ominous in his eyes, in the way he stares at you. But you play nice, thankful that at least Osamu is also here as a buffer, and you sigh in relief when Atsumu finally leaves, off to bed early for a long grueling day of practice tomorrow.

But you quickly realize you had relaxed too soon as Atsumu becomes an almost daily visitor, always coming in right as Osamu and you are closing shop and staying for hours on end, insistent on hanging out with you. And as time goes on, instead of sitting with the both of you, Osamu flits about the rest of the restaurant, going to the storage room to figure out inventory, assessing and cleaning the kitchen, forcing you to keep his brother busy and out of his hair.

Atsumu grows bolder with his brother distracted and not paying close attention to your interactions, leering at you with predatory eyes and a wolfish grin, unabashedly staring at the swell of your breasts, only smirking when you snap at him that your eyes are up in your head and not down there. You snarl at him when he bluntly tells you how good you look in the shop apron, how sexy he bet you would look if you only wore an apron and nothing else, how he wishes he could see the view from behind. You roughly kick his foot away as it begins to trail up your leg, inching up and up towards your inner thigh, grazing the apex of your legs and you victoriously smile when he winces in pain, only to fight back a whimper at the fire in his eyes when he looks at you.

But before he can do or say anything else, Osamu pops out from the back of the restaurant and Atsumu leans back in his chair on his best behavior again and you practically rush up from your seat, bidding a vague farewell as you escape. Only to return to work the next day and play the same push and pull game every night with the blonde setter. You’re thankful that at least Osamu is your saving grace and you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Atsumu won’t do anything too crazy, can’t do anything too awful, not with his twin around.

You consider bringing it up to Osamu, telling him exactly what’s happening, but what then? Would you really make your close friend choose between his own brother, his own flesh and blood, his own family and you? What would their parents think if they ever found out? And you flinch at the thought of hurting or disappointing the two adults who had always treated you like their own daughter. No. That wasn’t even a possibility. So you suck it up. You’re a full grown woman after all. What’s one more misogynistic asshole you have to deal with?

So you put with his objectifying stare, his wandering hands, his degrading comments, fighting fire with fire as you purposefully wear baggier clothes under your apron, wait for Osamu to turn around before shoving Atsumu away from you, shoot a sickeningly sweet smile as you knock his tea onto him when he asks you another outrageously inappropriate personal question about your sex life. And you think everything’s under control only for things to take a twisted turn you aren’t expecting when the entire MSBY Black Jackals team rents out the entire restaurant for a private party.

You’ve come to know the entire team over the months you’ve been working with Osamu, all the players dropping by once in a while to grab a quick snack or meal, and you smile as the shop fills with raucous laughter and joyful spirits as the team celebrates a big win. There’s plenty of food and the liquor is pouring generously as speeches become slurred, as the volume drastically increases and you howl with laughter as Bokuto animatedly shows off his new chest receive move. You’re in such high spirits that even when Atsumu harshly grips your thigh as you walk past him, stopping you and asking for more sake, you merely brush his hand off and retrieve the bottle, returning to fill his glass, too distracted by the celebratory atmosphere to pay attention to the setter.

And maybe that’s why you aren’t aware of how Atsumu is leaning towards you, calloused hands removing the bottle from your hand and setting it on the table before forcefully dragging you into his lap, a hand wrapped around the back of your head as he slams against your lips in a bruising kiss, only clutching you tighter as you struggle and try to push him away. Fear lances through you and you flail as much as you can, panicking when his strong arms don’t budge, only winding tighter and tighter around you until there isn’t any space between the two of you, until you can feel your breasts squished against his toned chest. You cry into his mouth, hot tears pricking your eyes when one arm sneaks down to grope an ass cheek, kneading and slapping the clothed flesh, when you can feel the tent in his pants pressing against your clothed groin.

But even Atsumu has to breathe and when he pulls away, you don’t even think as your arm swings up and suddenly it’s silent as a loud slapping sound pierces through the room. All eyes are on the two of you, but you don’t care, you don’t notice. You only have eyes for Atsumu and all the disgust and anger you had built up inside of you, kept to yourself, comes rushing out as you viciously snarl at him, telling him you’re done with his harassment, openly jeering at him to go find a prostitute if he’s so desperate or maybe one of his stupid fan girls, anyone else but you. Venomous word after word is spat at him and you don’t stop until you’re out of breath, until your throat is hoarse from screaming and finally when there’s nothing left to say, you rush out of the room, past the horrified and stunned faces of his teammates, of Osamu, never looking back once, never stopping until you’re tucked underneath your bed covers, sobbing to yourself, skin rubbed raw and mouth brushed until your gums bled in an effort to wash yourself completely of his touch.

You don’t return to work for days, ignoring the numerous calls and texts from Osamu, completely shutting off your phone. Now that time has passed, now that you’re not in the heat of the moment, you feel embarrassed by the spectacle you’d made, the dramatic scene you’d given Atsumu’s entire team and Osamu front row seats to. You don’t regret your actions, knowing you’re in the right, knowing no one should have to put up with what you had, but your skin crawls imagining how facing anyone who had witnessed that night would go, unsure where they all stand on the matter, wondering if Atsumu is dragging your name in the mud, calling you a drama queen, a liar behind your back.

But Osamu isn’t having your cowardly act and you feel sick when you hear pounding on your door, Osamu’s familiar voice muffled, but loud from the other side of the door, begging you to let him in, to talk with him. And you consider just staying silent, waiting for him to leave, but long minutes pass and he doesn’t let up, seemingly getting only louder and more insistent the longer you leave him hanging and taking a deep breath, you finally unlock the door and let him in, looking anywhere but him as he shuts the door behind him.

You’re not sure what to expect, not sure who’s side he’s on, but when strong arms wrap around you and gently bring you in for a hug, his familiar scent and warmth surrounding you as he tucks your head under his chin, you sob into his chest, releasing all the anxiety and stress you had felt, relief flooding through you when you peer up into his eyes and he looks at you the same way he always has, like best friends, like family. And the two of you curl up on your couch and he lets you fully tell your side of the story, finally explain everything that had been happening, and you let out a watery laugh when he only berates you for not trusting him, not telling him sooner.

You laugh at yourself, wondering how you could have thought the whole world would be against you and you're eternally grateful to Osamu for dragging your reluctant body back to work as your regular customers cheerfully greet you, telling you they had missed you, as Bokuto and Hinata stop by and grace you with their megawatt smiles as they order their usual orders. And life finally feels normal again. Better than normal.

You're not sure what had gone down between the Miya twins after the incident, but Osamu had assured you that Atsumu was never coming back to the restaurant, that you'd never have to see him again. And like he says, despite the way your eyes nervously glance at the door when closing time approaches for the first few weeks, no blonde haired man ever enters the establishment and as the months go on, Atsumu isn't even on your mind anymore, forgotten as you move on with your life.

And now it's your turn to take care of Osamu and you shove him out of the restaurant, waving off his million comments and reminders as you help him pack for his vacation you had forced him to go on. You knew the man like the back of your hand and it was painstakingly clear how exhaustion and stress were eating away at him as he slaved away in the kitchen, hovered over his account books.

The onigiri shop is rapidly growing, gaining momentum and popularity neither of you had anticipated, and while in many ways those things are a blessing, they also are a source of the growing pains Osamu and you feel as the business outgrows the small shop tactics the two of you had utilized. But you force him away with the promise that once he's rejuvenated and refreshed, the two of you would sit down together, map out the future of the restaurant, and embark on that new chapter together. And he flicks your forehead when you dramatically tell him he's no use to either of you if he drops dead from overexertion one day, but he smiles and you wave him off on his long overdue break.

Life is hectic as you run the shop by yourself and you're running on less than empty as the days drag on. Maybe that's why you get careless. Maybe that's why you forget to lock the front door even after pulling down all the blinds and flipping over the open sign to announce the restaurant's closure. Maybe that's why you don't hear the door quietly open and close or the approaching footsteps as you do inventory in the storage room.

You startle at the sound of the door slamming shut behind you, whipping your head around only to feel your heart drop as you lock eyes with a face you thought you'd never see again. Palpable fear makes you tremble and your shaky body wants nothing more to bolt, but with the only entrance and exit blocked by Atsumu's imposing body, there's nowhere to go and instead you cower backwards, slowly backing yourself into the wall, trying to stay as far as physically possible from the athlete.

"You shouldn't be here, Atsumu. I'll tell Osamu."

You know you're grasping at straws unsuccessfully when Atsumu wickedly laughs at your words and you flinch as he takes step after step until he's right in front of you, crowding you against the wall. He's so close you can feel his body warmth and like a cornered animal, you make a wild dash past him towards the door.

Or at least you try to.

But years of trained athletic reflexes serve your visitor well and before you can even take a step away, he has you slammed against the wall, his body pressed against yours, both your wrists pinned above your head in one of his larger hands, his other hand tightly gripping your waist. And bile rises in your throat as you feel his hard length rubbing against you, as you hear him moan as he forcefully grinds against your body.

"Sure. Go ahead and tell 'Samu when I'm done with you, if you can even form words or think properly by then. He's not back from his little trip for another few weeks. More than enough time for me to show you exactly who you belong to."

You protest as his lips once again slam against yours, but this time you're more prepared and you sneer at him when he recoils from your bite, red hot fury and pride soaring in you at the sight of blood trickling from his mouth. But you sob when a large calloused hand strikes you across the face, leaving a burning ache in its wake that you can't even register as the same hand wraps around your throat, squeezing and squeezing until black spots dance at the edge of your vision and your body thrashes in his grip.

Just when you think you might pass out, he abruptly lets go and you collapse to the ground, gasping and heaving for air, too busy trying to breathe to fully retaliate against the way you're being forcefully repositioned on the floor, only feebly fending off his hands as they tear off your clothes while you clutch at your smarting face and bleeding nose.

But your struggling begins anew, propelled by denial and despair when you're laid completely bare underneath him, his hungry eyes raking over your body and you dig your nails into his arms as he slaps and roughly kneads your breasts, painfully pinching and twisting your nipples. But that doesn't deter him in the slightest and you clench your eyes shut as he cruelly coos down at you about how honest your body is as your nipples betray you and harden under his attention, biting back a moan that threatens to escape as his head dives down and his tongue licks your sensitive buds while his lips wrap around and suck.

You hate him, you hate yourself, you hate your body as his fingers easily glide into your slick hole and your hands rush to cover your face, your mouth, anything to muffle your lewd sounds, to hide the aroused look on your face. But Atsumu isn't having it and you obediently place your hands at your side when he growls at you to let him see you, let him hear you, punctuating his order by slapping your throbbing clit and threatening to beat you to a bloody pulp until you listen.

The wet sounds of your dripping cunt being finger fucked and your wanton moans create a ghastly symphony and you just want it all to stop, want the tightening coil in your stomach to go away, but it only curls more and more with every drag of calloused fingertips against your insides, until you're wailing as you come undone, convulsing around the fingers slamming into you, screaming as he doesn't let up his pace even when you've finished riding the pleasure.

It's a mind numbing cocktail of pain and pleasure and you don't know if you're begging for him to stop or for more as he wraps his mouth around your overly spent clit, creating a vacuum like suction around it as he continuously pumps his fingers in and out of you and you think you might die from all the feelings inside of you as you're quickly forced to another orgasm, too soon after your first, wailing and sobbing for Atsumu to stop. It's too much. Too much. Too much. You're going to break.

Unfortunately for you, that's exactly what Atsumu has planned for you and the blonde triumphantly smiles at the dying fight in your eyes, the internal confusion he sees as your carnal desires battle your more logical self-preservation. It's cute how your hands still make the motion of shoving him away even if there is only weak kitten like force behind it. It's endearing how pretty tears streak your face while you weakly tell him to stop despite the way your resistance is peppered with little moans of pleasure, despite the way your pussy milks his fingers, your hole fluttering and a tiny whine escaping you when he pulls his digits out, leaving you empty and aching.

But he thinks you must be the most beautiful like this, eyes blown wide with pleasure, mouth opening in a choked scream, fingers clawing for purchase as he impales his entire length inside of you in one thrust, the sticky mess of your last two orgasms making it all to easy to slide in, no resistance from your quivering loosened walls. And he mockingly laughs at the way your eyes roll back, as you loudly moan as he bucks his hips, his cock ramming in and out of you, his balls obscenely slapping against your ass with every movement.

He can feel your thighs clench, see how you stop breathing as your climax approaches, and he furiously reaches down to rub your clit, hissing as you clamp down around him, hungrily devouring the sight of you completely breaking apart underneath and around him as he forces you to your crest once again. And he shortly follows, roughly grabbing your hips and holding you still as he slams one last time inside of you, releasing his seed deep inside of you, salivating at the image of how pretty your insides must look coated with white.

And as he takes in your drool and tear smeared face, the way your eyes are rolled back and unseeing, the way your body twitches in the aftershocks of such powerful forced pleasure, he can feel lust stir inside of him once again, his cock twitching and coming back to life, still nestled deep inside of you and he laughs at how reactive and sensitive you are as he gives an experimental thrust, an instantaneous mewl slipping past your lips.

"Stay with me, babe. I'm nowhere near done with you."

#haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu yandere #yandere atsumu #atsumu x reader #tw: noncon #tw: rape #tw: abuse #tw: violence

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valdomarxxx · 3 years

Text

There was only one bed? Well, @whataboutthebard, I know just the story. Forgive me if it's one you've heard before.

We are invited to court, and begged to perform. Some cousin of a cousin of the king, a far-flung royal offshoot with more money than he knows what to do with and more pretension than he’s earnt. In truth, he’s hired more than just the two bards who orbit the centre of this story; musicians and dancers and an orchestra, singers from far-flung climes to demonstrate how worldly and knowledgeable he is.

(It does not matter that the cousin-of-a-cousin has never stepped foot out of Verden. It is the appearance that counts.)

He has chosen us, he claims, because we are the most recent and second-most-recent winners of the Oxenfurt Bardic Competition. This will demonstrate how entrenched he is in the community, and how much he supports the arts.

We are led upstairs to the less fine wing of the keep, and I realise that he could have supported the arts more effectively by paying us a good wage, and - more to the point - supplying us with decent sleeping accommodations.

There is only one bed.

We look at each other. We look at the servant who has escorted us here.

“There appears to be some mistake,” I say, just as you speak - “And where is the other room?”

The servant raises her eyebrows at us. “No mistake,” she says. “You can take it or leave it. He won’t be granting you better.” She pauses, watching us, weighing us up. “Count yourselves lucky,” she says. “The flutist from Ebbing is sleeping on the floor with the servants. The group from Vicovaro are in the barn. The only place not teeming with musicians is the pig sty. But by all means, feel free to take it up with his Lordship if it displeases you.”

I peer at you. It could displease me more. It’s been some time since friendship became something slightly spikier, since those long sleepless nights at the academy. But I hesitate to call us rivals or enemies; the animosity between us is all for show.

At least, I think it is all for show.

(Later, I cannot be so sure.)

And… I look away from you, looking to the floor, looking to the single bed placed in the centre of the room like a steel-jawed trap. There are worse places to be.

Like the pig sty, for example. We thank the servant, who purses her lips and leaves.

“So,” you say. You throw your things to the bed.

“So.” I agree. I place my things beside yours.

It promises to be a long night.

The performance goes well. Even the most boorish employer can be tolerated when you have a captive audience and talented accompaniment, and it’s clear that the musicians gathered for the event are of the highest calibre. It’s been some time since we performed together, and we slip into the duet surprisingly easily, sliding back into two harmonising halves of a whole.

We close our set to applause and cheering, and - to both of our surprise - are led into a side chamber where we are given the real payment for our labours: food and wine. It is by no means as fine as the feast currently being served in the adjacent hall, but it’s better than I can expect in the Academy or you can expect on the road, and we settle into a long evening celebrating a successful performance.

That damned bed settles in the back of my mind like a ghost, like an itch I cannot scratch. Even when we laugh over old memories or bicker over which bottle to open next, I am thinking about what awaits us up the flight of servants’ stairs.

I am catastrophizing, I know. It is just a bed. Two nights - for we have been asked to perform tomorrow, too - and sweet sleep. Or not so sweet: as I have already mentioned, you snore, and I am not relishing the idea of those snorting grunts pressed so closely against my ear.

Yet—

No. I push down the thought, and return to the celebration, all the while waiting for the world to quietly end.

And it does, eventually. The food cleared away and the wine passed along to the next group of troubadours, we make our way up the stairs towards the room. Towards our room. We shuffle inside in silence, and before the door has shut you’re already stripping from your performance finery. You don’t even hesitate, and I suppose this is what travelling with a companion for so many years does to you; although you were never shy about your body in the same way I am.

I tug away my doublet hastily yet carefully, followed by my breeches - together they cost more than the pay we’re due to receive for tonight’s work. You are already in the bed, and for a moment I hesitate. I could sleep on the floor. It would not be a comfortable night, but the wine has made my bones feel soft and I have, after all, slept in worse places. It would be no hardship to pillow my clothes, however expensive they are, beneath my head and lie upon the wooden boards to—

“Valdo.” Your voice is sure in the dark. “Get in the bed.”

I do as you ask. The sheets are already body-warm, the mattress sagging where you lay just half a foot away. I lower myself to the edge, opening the space between us, muscles stiffening as I petrify, my body melding into immovable stone.

But not immovable enough. I feel you twist beside me, hear you sigh, can tell that even now you’re rolling your eyes at me. My senses, already heightened, light up, and then—

Your hand on my arm. You do not pull me closer, you do not tug or claw or grab or demand. You barely brush my skin. But still I move, still I follow that touch, still I turn onto my side until I’m facing you. You’re facing me, too.

“You get used to sharing a bed on the road,” you say, like we were halfway through another conversation. “It barely feels odd anymore when I and—”

“Please.” I cut you off. I try to sound biting instead of sad. “I do not need to hear about your witcher this evening.”

“No,” you reply. “I… I don’t think I want to talk about him, either.”

You move closer. Our ankles touch, of all things, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My heartbeat quickens; I pray for it to still and quieten. You yawn, and the gape cracks into a sleepy smile.

It’s easier, suddenly. Your hand is still upon my arm, and your skin is warm, and the bed is soft despite the cramped space. I turn onto my back, and feel your arm snake its way across my chest, towards my shoulder. I pull you close; I couldn’t do anything else but wrap my arms around you.

I expect to lie awake for hours, the lavender and chamomile scent of your hair filling my nose, muddling my mind. But you're warm, and soft, and gentle, and soon I feel myself drifting away, the pressure of your head against my chest making me painfully aware of every breath I take.

I sleep, and dream of—

I dream of you.

The next morning we wake slowly, dress slowly, eat slowly. We perform quick and fast and turbulent, garnering even louder applause, even greater accolades. It passes in a blur.

That night, we fall back into our shared bed. That night, we do not sleep at all.

#what about the bard #jaskier #there was only one bed

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your-highnessmarvel · 3 years

Text

From Bleak to Bright - Part Eleven

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: soooo um i think this may be a little tension relieving ;;;;)))

Warnings: angst, language, SMUT (18+ ONLY)

MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

PART ELEVEN

** Two years later, Manhattan, New York **

You scrolled down on your phone, pretending to actually be doing something, while you waited for Natasha. A group of teenagers had come into the cafe, loud, laughing, challenging each other to some stupid fight. You rolled your eyes, chewing on some gum, making sure they kept their distance with you. Who knew what those kids had touched. Ew.

Nat texted you that she was around the corner, and to keep from staying a second longer with the obnoxiously loud teens, you all but ran out the cafe. You marched down the street, spring air brushing through your hair. There was a smell between a wood fire and flowers that drafted from God knows where. The sun was high up, the afternoon in Manhattan hot. Many people walked by wearing shorts or tank tops. Summer was approaching. It brought a smile to your face.

But that smile soon faded as you walked by the newspaper outlet and caught sight of the title.

TWO YEARS SINCE NEW YORK ATTACK

You gulped, biting on the inside of your cheek. It had already been two years since the last time you’d spoken to him? It seemed like way longer. It seemed as if you’d walked into a parallel universe. No one ever talked about him, least of all your friends and family. Least of all you.

You shook your head, brushing away the thoughts that brought you back to all those years ago. You shook away an image of a loft, of a coffee table full of leather-bound books, of hands on your body.

“Hey!”

You looked up, Natasha standing before you in a trendy outfit that made her look like a runway model. She had huge sunglasses perched on her nose, pink bubblegum in her mouth.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah!” you answered, trying to hide the newspapers with your body, but you saw how her chin dipped when you walked by. She would surely see the titles and tell your brother. Dammit. You’d been doing so well.

Technically, you’d been doing fine.

Ever since the Avengers had defeated Loki and Thor had brought him back to Asgard, you’d never seen or heard of him. You’d gone to a few rounds of therapy, mostly with psychologists who dealt in soulmates, and after a few months of isolation, Bruce had let you go. It had been a relief to have your phone back, your liberties, your God damn car.

When you’d gotten the keys to your apartment back, it had felt final. But as the last people invited to your “homecoming” celebration had dwindled out, you’d found yourself in a pit.

Everything was muted. Yes, you still saw colors, but without the person behind those colors, you just drifted. Yes, you were happy, somewhat, but whenever you saw couples together, something in your chest burned, like a slow leaking flame. You’d never be like them. Even though you’d heard stories about people marrying someone who wasn’t their soulmate, the simple thought of having another man - except Loki - in your life sent shivers down your spine.

“I heard they got free donuts,” Nat said, bending her head close to yours. You giggled, but there was no heart it in.

She was bringing you to a stupid singles night out. Even though she briefly skirted on the fact that you’d already found your soulmate, she said it was an opportunity “to get out there”.

Hell, maybe it would make you forget Loki, although you highly doubted.

The night went on in a sort of downward spiral. It started off really fast and funny, with music and drinks, and a lot of men fighting to come to talk to you and the hot redhead. But with every passing guy, the more they didn’t look like him, the more they said things that set your teeth on edge, the duller you felt.

Like being emptied slowly, hand by hand, touch by touch.

By the time Nat brought you back to your apartment, you could barely manage a smile.

You tried, once again, fixing your stupid leaking tap but decided against it and went straight to bed. Because of that stupid newspaper, you had nightmares, plagued by a dark-haired prince wearing green and gold armor.

In the morning, you ignored the tap and went to work. When you came back, the tap wasn’t leaking and you thanked your lucky guardian because if you had to hear one more drop, you’d lose it.

The next night, coming home after drinks with your brother, the windowpane was fixed.

You knew something was wrong when your squeaking front door slid on perfectly oiled hinges.

Someone had been in your apartment. Multiple times.

Stepping in your apartment that night, eight nights after the tap was “fixed”, you looked around in the darkness. The shadows seemed denser, more menacing, as if they hadn’t been standing there every night, ever.

You looked at your tiny kitchen. Nothing seemed amiss. You checked the lock, but it locked on its own with no problem. Even better than before.

You couldn’t actually complain about your little home invader because they had fixed all the problems that were slowly driving you to the brink. But you hadn’t said a word to anybody, not even Bruce, because deep down, you knew who’d be waiting for you one night, eventually.

The bathroom light had been changed. It used to flicker all the time, giving you the creeps while you took a shower. But now it opened wildly bright and stayed there.

There. That was the daily change.

You changed in the bathroom, taking a hot, quick shower, keeping the door firmly locked. You felt watched as you padded across your apartment in your jammy shorts and tank top, your hair a wet rope down your back.

The cabinet where you kept your mugs had a faulty knob that had cut you on more than one occasion. It was polished now.

Hands trembling, you pivoted in your kitchen, fingers white-knuckling the countertop.

“I know it’s you,” you murmured, feeling your heart throbbing in your throat. The shadows seemed to listen. “I know what you’ve been doing.”

You apartment seemed to breathe, swallowing your words, digesting them. But nothing came back to you. You kept expecting the shadows to linger, to move, to break away, but everything remained still, quiet.

Your heart plummeted.

You went to bed looking out the window, noticing just how clean it was for an apartment in downtown Manhattan.

You had dreams of him, vivid dreams. You swore you could feel fingers on your cheek the next morning.

It’s when you walked in to the scent of flowers and found a bouquet of your favorite in the kitchen that you truly lost it. It took everything in you not to pick it up and smash the glass vase against the wall. There was no note, but just the fact that now, he wasn’t being so subtle about him breaking and entering, made your heart bash wildly against your ribs.

But you knew what he was doing. He was trying to get to you without the others knowing. He’d surely scourged the place for microphones or cameras, just like you’d done two years ago, and found none. He knew the Avengers, or anybody watching, wouldn’t know he’d been here. And just the fact that you’d told no one about the mysterious repairs in your flat meant everything for him.

You turned, flowers at your back. The shadows seemed to be smiling. They knew he was here.

You were older now, wiser. You knew how to play his little games.

“I’m not afraid,” you said to the dark. The curtains had been drawn in the living room, you noticed, as you made your way there. He’d wanted this to be done in private.

“I know you’re here,” you continued, inching to the windows, intent on pulling them back to shed some moonlight in your apartment. “You can... you can talk to me,” you whispered, heart heavy and harsh in your ribs. Your hands had begun to shake the closer you got to the curtains.

When you wrenched them open, exposing the city beneath you, you could barely take your eyes off the horizon.

Because you saw it.

The flicker.

His face there and then not, your heart wrenching in your chest, causing an audible gasp from your lips to echo in the room.

You felt the heat of him at your back. “I thought you were unafraid?” he asked, his voice rumbling, something vicious seizing your insides with a hot grip.

Something akin to a puzzle piece clicked back into place at the sound of his voice. You could breathe lighter now, see colors more vividly, hear the world around you clearly. All this time, you’d suffocated, been drowning, and now you weren’t.

“I’m not,” you answered, but neither you nor he missed the way your voice trembled.

You felt the warmth of his hand on your hip, saw the reflection of him flicker in the window as he leaned closer, his lips brushing the space beneath your ear. Fire lit everywhere on your flesh as he brought himself flush with you.

He inhaled. “I’ve missed you,” he mumbled against your skin, the sound of it vibrating in your bones.

“Where...” you licked your lips and restarted. “Where have you been?”

His other hand braced just under your throat, long fingers seeping warmth through the fabric of your t-shirt.

“Away,” he mumbled. He slid his hand from your hip to the sliver of skin under the hem of your t-shirt and you hummed involuntarily. His touch was like no other’s. “You’re so soft,” he mumbled.

You tried not to forget that he’d left you there on the floor two years ago, but the way his body fit against yours made any logical thought seep from your brain.

“I’ve dreamt of you for so long,” he drawled, making it seem as if you’d been separated for an eternity. “I’ve dreamt of your eyes. Your voice. The way your body fits right onto mine.” He shifted slightly, pressing you harshly against him. “I’ve not the heart to take another woman to bed. I want it to be you.”

His words sent a strange heat dripping down into your belly, heavy and wanting. Your mouth parted, and the hand Loki had against your chest slipped up until his thumb pressed against your mouth. “How sweet of you,” you said against his thumb.

He chuckled lowly. “I can show you sweet,” he said.

“I rather you practice restraint,” you mumbled, even though deep down, you meant none of it.

He chuckled again, shaking his head, lowering his hand back so it lay lightly around your throat. Then his chuckle turned into a groan, his force deepening. “Y/n,” but now his voice was pleading, like a man who’d been deprived of everything. “Please. I’ve thought of you all this time. Don’t push me away. Not you.”

The last part made you frown, but you nonetheless pushed from him, turning to face him. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes, his face ashen as if he hadn’t slept in a millennia. His hair was slightly longer, curling along his jaw, hiding his ears. He wore a white t-shirt and black slacks, but he was cold as you pressed your fingers against his shoulders.

“Okay,” you whispered. You tried not to maintain eye contact because the haunted look in his green eyes made you sick.

He bent forward slightly, grasping your face between his huge, warm hands. The first brush of his lips was soft, sending butterflies scuttling across your belly. But then he gripped your face, bringing you to him, and kissed you like he was a starving man and you were his reprieve.

A strangled moan left his throat, his lips molding to yours, driving you backwards until your spine hit the window. One hand went to the glass to soften your fall, but he didn’t let up his rhythm. You could barely keep up anyway.

He kept kissing you so harshly, delving his tongue between your teeth, angling your head back to kiss you deeply, that every rational thought in you just went to dust.

You gripped his back, marveling at the strong muscle, bringing him flush against you. One hand went to his hair, knotting in the raven locks, tugging until you swore you’d hurt him. But he kept kissing you, hands venturing to your hips, sliding over your ass, gripping your thighs and hauling you up.

On instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his arousal just where you wanted him, and he spun you away from the window. How he moved with such eloquence as he devoured your mouth befuddled you, but when your ass found the countertop and Loki pressed himself between your legs, your brain fizzled. A whole jar of butterflies now flew in your belly.

He broke from the kiss momentarily to grasp your breasts, kneading them in his hands, marveling at the sight.

“Restraint, Loki,” you mumbled breathlessly, lips swollen.

One of his brows furrowed, but he went right back to kiss you, holding your tits in his hands, then moving to grip your thighs with such strength it should have hurt.

“I can’t stop,” he breathed between kisses, holding the back of your head. “I want you. I want you so fucking bad.”

You squeezed your eyes shut harshly, ignoring the red alarms in your head. Because it was him. Because it was him, always him, and now that he was here, touching you almost everywhere, his scent invading your senses, you never wanted him to go.

He pulled your head back and kissed down your neck, over the swell of your breast, taking one nipple lightly between his teeth. A gurgled moan left your throat, Loki holding your head back, exposing everything to him.

“No bra?” he grumbled against your skin, his tongue soothing the ache on your nipple.

You just breathed in response, your legs clenching against his arms.

He chuckled against your body. His left hand, the free one, slid down the length of your chest until he took one finger to lightly circle you through your pants.

You gasped, jolting in his grasp, his mouth possessively clamping shut on your nipple.

“Eager,” he hummed. He was so warm, smelled so fucking good, that the second time he applied pressure and circled his fingers, you all but moaned for everyone to hear. He teased you some more, licking and pleasing you all through your clothing.

Then his mouth left your hardened nipple and traveled up to your ear, where the warmth of his breath made you shiver. “If I can do this to you,” he whispered, circling your core through your pants. “Imagine how it’ll feel when I fuck you.”

His words made you want to clench your thighs together, to keep the heat and pressure there, but his body was still between your legs. He chuckled, biting your neck, hard, knowing it would leave a mark. He yanked your head forward until your eyes met his.

“I can feel just how much you want me,” he mumbled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling. “I can smell it.”

You rocked once against his hand, eliciting a groan from him as your thigh briefly brushed him through his pants. He was hard. Wanting. The hand behind your hand squeezed until it hurt, but when he soothed his tongue against your neck, circling your clit, you lost yourself in him again.

“Y/N,” he murmured, chanting your name like a prayer. You were almost there and you couldn’t believe it. You rocked against his hand, biting your lip, and when he saw that, he brought your mouth into a breathtaking kiss. “Cum against me,” he said through each kiss. “Cum.” It was a command.

You squeezed your eyes, grinding against his circling hand, and when he licked your neck, you all but came apart with a moan. Loki quickly kissed you, swallowing your sounds of pleasure as he slowly, leisurely circled you through your pants. Your legs shaking, you trembled against him until his fingers stopped and he brought his forehead to yours.

“Run away with me,” he whispered. “Let me ravage you every night, y/n, please.”

Lost in the dizzying aftermath of your orgasm, all you could do was breathe, eyes closed. You fisted one hand in his shirt, feeling his heart beating savagely under his breastbone.

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze.

“No,” you said.

AAAAHHHH omg i was so shy writing that little smutty part lmaooo BUT YES MORE TO COME OOOOHHHH (you will get a whole smut scene soon, let me get used to writing smut again hihihihi)

tags: @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor @winchescumberholland

#loki #lokixyou #lokixyn #lokixreader #loki x you #loki x yn #loki x reader #smut #soulmate au #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #imagine loki #loki imagine #loki oneshot

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years

Text

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

I’ve opened requests now, if anybody is interested. Here’s the post:

Requests

Lost Silver

As stupid as it sounds, the game didn’t scare you.

It had started as a joke, something passed around your friend group after it had been discovered. The cartridge was just a janky version of a Pokémon game that was apparently spooky and so, everybody had taken turns messing around with it. They all said creepy things started happening but nothing too bad.

When it was your turn, you had been fully expecting something out of a horror movie. Instead, you had gotten a game that just had audio cut offs and weird notes warning you to stay out. It wasn’t all together scary.

You mentioned this to the next person you gave the game to in your friend group and they had laughed, saying it would probably ring true for them also.

But for some reason, your ally didn’t manifest.

Less than two days later, they practically threw the game at the rest of you and ran away sprouting things about curses. After that, the appeal of playing it kind of went away.

Nobody wanted to buy it and apparently throwing it out wasn’t a suggestion. So you ended up getting it.

Curiosity soon got the better of you and you booted up the game again, really sure that it would do something absolutely crazy but it never did. It ran like it always had with only that one file being completed.

So you deleted the file.

And nothing happened.

The next day, when you booted up the game, the file had simply returned as though you hadn’t deleted it in the first place. A similar thing occurred the next time. And the next.

Eventually you gave up and just started your own game. There, everything ran like it was meant to and you were beginning to think that your friends had all been imagining stuff. Maybe their paranoid got to them or something like that?

But eventually, the nightmares started. And they were bad.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during them. They were a swirling mess of games and glitches, horrible things spelled out in letters and blood covering everything. You would always wake up right when they seemed to be coming to a pivotal point. You’d find yourself dragged into a graveyard and then you’d wake up screaming

It was awful. You hardly got any sleep during them and they seemed to haunt you every night, keeping you up until the early hours of the morning.

But the worst only came when you didn’t wake up.

When you were dragged to the grave and looked down to see the ellipsis where the name should be. A punch to the gut that reminded you of what the game file was called. A confirmation of what was causing this dream.

You stared at it for ages before your eyes drifted up and you met his gaze. He was covered in blood, it leaked from every orifice and limb. It stained his dirty clothing even worse.

While you were staring, the world seemed to distort even though he didn’t. The game world melted away and your bedroom slowly reappeared.

It wasn’t until you saw car headlights move past your window – casting awful shadows across the room – that you realised you were no longer dreaming. He wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

The temperature in the room plummeted and you began to slowly reach for a weapon of some kind. He turned to look at what you were watching. His head tilted to the side and a glitch raced across his body before he vanished into thin air. Flicking on the lights didn’t show him hiding or cowering.

Perhaps your friends weren’t crazy after all.

Masky

“You know, if we had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened,” your sibling lectured. “We could be relaxing inside the car without having to worry about a bloody flash flood coming down from the sky.”

You shoved their back, forcing them to stumble a little as they went through the door. “Chances are the river’s going to burst its banks anyway. We would have been stuck in traffic for hours because the bridge is blocked off.”

“At least we would have been dry,” they muttered, running their fingers through their hair. “And not trapped inside an abandoned building.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over the rubble to settle down on a camping chair. “Don’t even start. This place has been a hangout for my friends and I for ages. There’s never been a single problem bigger than a few spiders.”

“Till a landlord shows up,” they scoffed.

“Then we’ll move to the forest,” you joked. “I’m sure there’s a good bear cave we can use.”

“I’m going to be an only child,” they said, rolling their eyes. Still, they made their way over and sat. “How long do you think we have until the storm dies down?”

You relaxed back into the chair and smiled up at the asbestos-filled ceiling. “From the sound of it, a while.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time you had taken a nap in the building. You were scared of giant cockroaches coming to eat you once. You had gotten used to it since then but this time when you woke up, you were uneasy.

Glancing around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Your sibling was snoring in the chair next to you and outside the rain was pounding the roof.

You sat upright. Sometimes was definitely wrong.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you got up from the chair and began walking as quietly as you could through the house. It had always been tiny and practically void of furniture, but the few rooms provided ample hiding spots.

Nothing but rubble was in most of the rooms but, in what you presumed had once been a bathroom, you found a person.

He had his back to you but when you pushed the door open to peer in, he spun around, his hand flying to his side. He was wearing a white mask, dark features etched onto it, and an orange jacket. A dark stain ran up the right side of it, emanating from under his hand. The oddness of his clothing made you immediately back away from the door, finger twitching on your cell phone in case you needed to call for help.

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

You were lost about what to say or do. The stain on his jacket was spreading and the more you stared at it, the more you became convinced it was blood. “Are you okay?” you finally managed to ask.

It took him a while to respond but then he nodded. The mask was unnerving you. You didn’t like not being able to see a person’s facial expressions.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but it really looks like you’re bleeding,” you said. “And quite badly. I can call for an ambulance or something although…” you turned your attention to the window behind his head. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to get anywhere with this weather.”

He stepped backward. “I’m fine,” he said, so soft you barely caught it. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

“It normally is,” you answered. “But we had to avoid the storm. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here also?”

“Yes,” he responded.

You waited or him to say something more, but all you got was silence. He had moved further away and now he had his back against the window. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to your sibling but you were unsure about turning your back on the strange man.

The mask made you scared he could stab you or something.

Somebody calling your name made you turn your head on instinct. Your sibling must have woken up and realised you were missing.

Quickly, you turned back to the man, but he had disappeared. Rain spat through the now open window.

Nurse Ann

Everybody always warned you about exploring old buildings. They would yell about how many things could injure or kill you. Stray animals, drug addicts, old equipment, and all that. You had heard just about every warning imaginable. Ghosts were pretty commonly mentioned also.

But killer nurse was a new one.

“Come on, just give me a little more information,” you nagged. “I’m going there whether you’re with me or not so you may as well just tell me what you’ve heard.”

Your friend (and partner in crime for most ventures) groaned. “It’s not much. They just say that she guards the place and if you get too close, she’ll run you off with a chainsaw. Some people have died from injuries they got while there. Let’s just give this one a miss, alright?”

But you were not in agreement at all.

“Maybe she’s cute though,” you teased.

They didn’t find that funny and you didn’t push them to come with you. So later that evening, you snuck in by yourself.

The hospital was old with crumbling walls and smashed windows. It was hidden from the public by means of a tall barbed-wire fence and a substantial distance of open garden. Nothing too extreme for you and definitely worth the potential items you’d find inside. When hospitals went under, they often left tons of awesome stuff just scattered around.

You’d never sold anything you found in your abandoned building dives. They were more collectables than anything else but they meant quite a bit to you.

There weren’t any signs of crazy nurses as you approached the place. Nobody came running at you with a chainsaw at least. You didn’t even find evidence of squatters who could sometimes pose some danger.

After deciding it was safe enough, you lifted yourself through one of the windows and began to explore.

Honestly, it was creepy. Everything was way too old to be worth collecting and there were too many unidentifiable stains for your liking. The water damage was bad. It looked like the ceiling was there for aesthetics only and several rooms creaked too much for you to comfortably cross them.

And that was even without the awkward feeling of being watched.

You told yourself that it was just superstition but you couldn’t shake it. Every few seconds saw you looking over your shoulder in anticipation. It distracted you from keeping your eye on the path in front of you and the loud crack reached your ears too late.

The floor gave out and you fell through. Your shoulder hit some kind of metal object as you landed in the room below. Painful shocks ripped through your body and your head knocked against the floor with a heavy thud.

Stars danced in front of your vision and you raised your hand to the top of your head. Blood coated your hand when you lowered it to look.

Shit.

Shakily, you tried to pull yourself up but quickly found that your arm was too sore. Instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket and sent off the emergency text to your friend.

The world faded to black not long after that.

When you woke up next, you were in your room with a bandage wrapped around your head. You had felt like absolute crap but still gotten up to thank them for the save. They had nodded and warned you to be more careful, happy that you had been outside the hospital so they didn’t have to look for too long.

Before you could even think about how you had crawled there, they asked how you had managed to do your own stitches so nicely.

Puppeteer

Your camera was on 10% battery.

Grumbling, you shoved it into your bag and cursed your past self for forgetting to put it on charge. In order to get the best sunrise photos, you had found yourself waking up earlier and earlier. It was tiring but it was worth it… most of the time.

You just hoped that at least one of your pictures was usable but you could only check on them once you got home.

The streetlight above your head flickered as you walked past. It wasn’t unusual but when you were the only person awake for miles around, it was awfully creepy.

Putting your hands into your jacket pockets, you continued strolling back home. The neighborhood had never been dangerous and despite living in the area for your entire life, no incidents made you want to stop walking around at night.

Deciding that you wanted to take a precautionary shot, you headed for your neighbour’s house first. They had an arch covered in jasmine flowers that made for some perfectly safe photos and they never minded your presence.

After making your way there and getting a few photos, you were treated to the fright of your life when their began howling and barking. It wasn’t aimed at you but you didn’t like the noise regardless.

As you rounded the corner of the house, planning on racing back to your own home, you encountered the dog’s target.

A man – cloaked in the darkness and barely illuminated by the streetlight – opening one of the windows with ease. Irritated by the dog, he didn’t notice you until your finger twitched around the shutter of your camera. There was a flash.

His head snapped up and you screamed.

The man’s complexation was literally grey. He wasn’t just ill, he was the colour of storm clouds. Golden eyes with no pupils glared at you and froze you in place. Whatever he was, this man was the furthest thing from human.

Your scream woke your neighbors. The sound of movement began coming from inside the house.

He abandoned the window, stalking towards you. The air tingled like it was expecting a lightning storm. Golden tendrils grew from his fingertips and shot towards you. They had you pinned in an instant.

You struggled against them and opened your mouth to scream again but they wrapped around your head, forcing your jaw shut.

This was how you died… tears spilled down your cheeks at the realization. You were going to be an unsolved murder. All you hoped was you got a good picture of him.

Your neighbor’s front door opened and great dane let out an ear-splitting bark as he raced toward you.

The man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, released you to face the dog. He let it approach before vanishing into a cloud of smoke as its jaws reached him.

“What was that?” the timid voice brought you back into reality.

“It was trying to get into your house,” you said. “I screamed when I saw it and then it grabbed me.” Your voice changed to a whimper as reality hit you. You nearly died.

The small child of the house came over to hug your leg. “I’m sure Puppet didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “He always comes to visit but he doesn’t like it when people make noise. You shouldn’t scream when you see him again.”

You made eye-contact with the parents and they wore expressions of horror at their daughter’s words.

“Puppet?” you asked in a small voice.

She nodded rapidly. “He says he stops by because he likes watching people. I think that he’s watching us all right now! But he can hide in the shadows too well.”

“I’m going to go and call the police,” somebody said.

You weren’t all too focused. The feeling of being watched grew heavier and you clutched tightly at the camera in your hands.

Slenderman

You couldn’t tell if they were being serious. You hoped that they were joking. They weren’t genuinely going to…

“No,” you stated.

The two younger children both turned to look at you simultaneously. Guilt flashed across their faces as though they weren’t aware you were listening. It was as though you were asked to babysit them because you didn’t pay attention. These two should have realised that by now.

“Do you think all the stories are true?” the boy asked. “I think that they are. One of my friends said she saw a huge dog in the forest and then it ran away after eating a whole cow!”

“No way!” his twin sister shouted. “Dogs don’t eat cows, so it can’t be true!”

You put on your best intimidating expression and crossed your arms. “I don’t care if they’re true or not. There is absolutely no chance that either of you are going to go running off into the woods with bears, wolves and all kinds of other creatures.”

The two children glanced at each other and bolted for the tree line before you could grab their shirts.

Thankfully your legs were longer even if they had a head start and you managed to catch up pretty quickly. Once you caught the boy and picked him up with ease, the girl dashed behind a tree.

“Can we please just leave?” you asked nicely. “If we forget about the forest adventure thing, I promise I won’t tell your parents and I’ll get you ice cream.”

The boy was trying his hardest to get out of your hold. You were starting to think babysitting didn’t pay enough.

“I don’t want ice cream,” the girl said. “I want to go and find a unicorn.”

She darted off into the forest and you let out a deep groan. Shifting the boy’s weight over your one hip, you started walking after her. If you wanted to give chase via running, you would have to put the kid down and trust him to follow or stay.

It was obvious that wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take you too long to find the girl. Mostly because she had stopped in the middle of a weird grove in the trees. She was just staring off into the dark shadows beyond it.

As you approached her, static popped in your ears. You shook your head in an effort to displace it but the closer you got, the louder it became.

The child in your arms whimpered, clutching his head.

You softly called her name and then it appeared. It was a man-like monster, standing just in the shadows of the trees. Easily over 7ft tall and insanely thin with no facial features. Your heart jumped into your throat and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

Without taking your eyes off it, you reached out a hand and fumbled around until you grabbed the girl’s shirt.

The static was getting louder and louder. You tried to shut it out as you started moving backwards, tugging the child along after you. She wasn’t willing to move her legs. She was entranced but whether by fear or magic, you couldn’t tell.

And then it was much closer.

You stumbled in fright, letting go of the girl’s shirt and landing on your ass. The boy fell on top of you but scrambled away and hide in the bushes within the blink of an eye. You sent a silent prayer to him to run back home to the other adults.

Once again, the creature was stationary but now the static was growing to such a volume that you could imagine your ears were starting to bleed.

You reached out for the girl again slowly, but something wrapped around your leg and yanked you into the air.

It took almost a full second for you to realise that the screaming ringing in your ears was you. Whatever was holding you tightened and whipped your body through the air. It was like your leg was being ripped away.

Then you were falling.

It was some feat of luck that you managed to twist your body, so you didn’t land on your head. You lay there for a while before something poking your back made you unbury your face.

The twins were staring at you with wide eyes and the monster was nowhere in sight.

“What was –“ you couldn’t finish.

“Slenderman,” they said in perfect sync.

Splendorman

Another stop…

You couldn’t help yourself. Every time you walked past one of the posters fluttering lightly in the wind you had to stop and stare at it.

A few days ago, your dog, your beautiful and sweet puppy, had disappeared from your house without a trace. The missing posters were depressing reminders that he wasn’t home. It hadn’t taken long for your mind to spiral into the negative thoughts about how close the road was.

Damn your coworkers. One of the had suggested the road in the first place and while they hadn’t intended anything malicious, it was definitely not helping your fears.

The dog had been with you through thick and through thin… if it was dead, you may as well have lost a close family member.

Hanging your head, you dragged your eyes away from the poster and kept walking.

People bumped into you, but it was your fault. You refused to look up in case another poster distracted you. Getting home before the sun set was your only focus now.

You had tried going out and searching in all the places where your dog once spent time to no avail. Always willing to try again, you chose to drop off your bags and head out later that evening when you ran out of distractions.

As you walked through the gates in front of your house, a gust of air gently messed up your hair. A gust of wind suspiciously similar to a laugh.

Your logical mind told you it came from the street, but something made you stop in your tracks.

The walls around your property towered. There’s no possibility that somebody could be in your garden. To try and scale one of the walls, they would have been in full view of your neighbours who would have undoubtedly called the cops.

“You’re sad,” the wind whispered before you could brush off your suspicion.

Spinning wildly, you searched around for the source. You backed up until your entrance gate was behind you. You could run down to the main street with ease if you could just get your fumbling fingers to unlock things.

“Don’t run,” the wind said, this time blowing from a separate direction. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know why you’re upset.”

Is this what going insane was? Nobody around and the wind was talking to you. You had always feared losing your mind and now it was happening.

“I’m real,” the wind said. “I’m hiding because I’ll scare you if you see me.”

“I’m going mad,” you muttered, shaking your head. “If this is somebody pulling a prank on me I swear….”

The wind quietened for a bit and then it picked up again, ruffling your hair as it spoke. “If I show myself, it’ll prove that you’re not going crazy, but I don’t want to make it worse by frightening you… you’re so sad already.”

“I lost my best friend and people have been telling me he’s most likely dead,” you hissed. “Obviously I’m not in the best mood. Now I’m losing my fucking mind and talking to air.”

The atmosphere around you dropped, like it does moments before lightning strikes. You glanced at the sky in confusion. As expected, no clouds in sight.

You lowered your gaze and a 7ft tall creature covered in bright polka dots stood in front of your house.

Once you screamed, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” the wind said. “I knew I would scare you, but I had hoped it would show you that I’m not imaginary. I’m just trying to help.”

The gate finally opened behind you and you stumbled backwards through it, your heart sitting in your throat. A monster was in your house and it was probably going to kill you. Spinning on your heel, you took off full speed back towards the main street.

You were fully expecting it to give chase now that you hadn’t fallen for its claims of harmlessness but it didn’t.

Instead you reached the main road and only got a few strange looks because of how much you were shaking. Nothing followed you.

The wind picked up once more. “I’ll try and help,” it promised.

People walking around you should have heard it as well but none of them so much as blinked.

Ticci Toby

While you had been told that a noise limit for the forest existed, your laughter refused to cooperate. It rang through the trees and probably chased off all the animals nearby. A picnic out in a national forest was a fantastic way to reconcile with nature and to scare it all away.

With eleven people in your picnic party, chances of any creatures coming into view were already slim though so you didn’t worry too much.

“We didn’t bring nearly enough fruit,” you muttered as you dug in the basket.

“Excuse you, I brought a whole watermelon but you ate it,” somebody answered your grumble. “If you want fruit, it is spring. Go and forage for some berries.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going to go out by myself in the middle of the one season where bears are irritable as fuck. I know I sometimes act a little impulsively, but I don’t exactly have a wish to die at the claws of a grumpy teddy.”

Your friend leaned towards you. “Is that so? What if we split into teams and made a bet? Loser has to take a dip in the river.”

“A bet?” you asked. “I’m interested.”

She grinned and snapped her fingers. “Okay, there are eleven people so I’m feeling groups of two with one impartial party as a judge. We should be fine if we make enough noise and stick within close vicinity to each other. See how many berries we can gather?”

Tipping out the picnic basket’s contents, you smirked and pushed it into her chest. “Oh, I hope you brought a swimming costume.”

Everybody teamed up with ease and grabbed one of the many containers lying on the blanket. You headed out with your partner and gave a wink to the other teams. All you needed was to find one good bush first and you had it won.

“We should split up,” your partner said. “Cover more ground.”

You nodded. “We meet up back here once we’ve found a good bush,” you agreed. “And we shout if we find any animals.”

Obviously, your plans hadn’t involved losing your footing almost directly after the two of you split.

Tumbling down the small hill, you tried your hardest to protect yourself from the bushes as you went through them. At some point, you lost your basket and by the time you had finally rolled to a stop, you had no idea where it was.

Grumbling, you stood up and started searching until something dark caught your eye. Thinking it was your basket, you made your way over.

The clearing you walked into housed a scene you could never have imagined.

A dead bear lay slumped against a tree, its fur being what had caught your eye earlier. A hatchet buried in its neck was spilling blood onto the floor around it. All that hardly compared to the man leaning against a tree.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

His head immediately snapped up, allowing you to see that he was wearing a mouth guard and a pair of goggles. Blood seeped from between his fingers where they clutched against his chest, but he hardly noticed. A hatchet was hanging from his belt.

Suddenly, you were wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

He stared at you blankly for a while, an occasional twitch minorly affecting his body. Reaching up, he took off his mouthguard. “I can’t feel any pain,” he said. “So, I’m fine. Why are y-you out here? The hiking trail is far.” He struggled with one of the words, seeming to hiccup a little on it.

“I was searching for berries and I slipped down a hill,” you answered. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like you got into a fight with a bear. Your shirt is all bloody.”

“I did fight a bear,” he laughed, gesturing to it. “I won.”

Your eyes grew wider. “I think you should get to a hospital. What’s your name? I can call somebody for you and we’ll get you medical attention.”

“Toby,” he said. “That’s my name. What’s yours?”

You gave him your full name and pulled out your phone. “My friends are close by,” you said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here to help soon.”

When you raised your attention from your phone, he had disappeared and so had the hatchet from the bear’s neck.

Trenderman

Work was hard. It made your feet ache, it made your back click and crack, and it felt like the problems would never end.

Would you give up working in the fashion industry? Not a chance.

Your boss walked past where you were calming down an irate customer over the phone and dropped the keys to the front of the building in front of you. “Close up for me,” she mouthed as she left.

Nodding, you moved them to the side of the desk where they couldn’t be lost.

Once you had finished calming the customer, you glanced around to check how many people were left in the room. Three still working and one in the process of leaving. You were technically going into overtime at this point, but you didn’t mind.

There was a reason you were promoted so quickly.

“We need to set up cameras!” one of the floor managers snapped, storming into the office. She marched straight over to your desk and glowered at you. “I put this request in a week ago.”

Scrolling through the documents, you quickly opened the file. “I see but it looks like it’s been bumped due to a shipment malfunction, I’ll flag it. What’s the problem?”

“Customers or members of staff are moving items around and throwing things out without warning. We need to catch the culprits!” she snapped.

“What has been thrown out?” you asked. “I’ll add it into the information.”

The woman started listing quicker than you could type. “I’ve found crocs, toeless thigh-high boots, bellbottomed jeans, coloured faux fur jackets, luminous lipstick, w-necks, and jeggings all in vast numbers in the trash can. Every time I put them out on shelves, they disappear again.”

It took everything in you not to snort. “I’ll mark this vital.”

She stalked off and you went back to inputting the shipping requirements. You were meant to be organising what was coming in for the latest line and subtly omitting anything that wouldn’t sell well enough.

Slowly but surely, your co-workers trickled out of the office after finishing off their daily tasks. You kept going, trying to make sure you could have a longer break the next day.

Finally, when the sun had already set, you relented and started getting ready to go home.

You sung as you finished packing up for the day. Being the last one in the building (thus having to lock up) made you a little more confident as you danced around getting everything together. You slung your bag over your shoulder and happily trotted over to the door.

It made you so happy that your boss entrusted you to be the last one around. She was so hyper-protective of company secrets that you were proud of yourself for winning her over.

Your talent with people was something you attributed to dealing with painful customers.

As you passed through the store-part of the business you stopped to rearrange a mannequin. Every morning when you came in, you always noticed something had been changed with this specific one. You figured you could move something small and see if it would be a good place to set up a hidden camera.

Though you weren’t expecting it to suddenly grab your arm.

“You may be one of the few workers here with good taste, but I advise you don’t try and change my outfit,” it said. It didn’t have a mouth, but the words rang in your head, nevertheless.

You screamed and pulled away, tearing your arm from its grip. Shelves were knocked over and clothing was sent flying as you tried to escape.

The mannequin just watched you as you fumbled madly for the door.

The glass rattled in the frame from how hard you slammed it shut behind you. You sped off down the street, moving faster than you ever had before. You collapsed on your lawn by the time you reached the house, taking deep breaths.

Nothing had followed you. Everything was okay.

With shaking fingers, you dialed your boss’ number and told her you would be taking a sick day. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going anywhere near there again.

Not to mention the mess you made… you were definitely getting fired.

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #slenderman #splendorman #trenderman #ticci toby #nurse ann #masky #cp masky #marble hornets #lost silver #puppeteer #x reader

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god1ngs · 3 years

Text

━‎ coping

synopsis; you try to cope with the new information you've been given

contains; platonic cuddling, swearing, wilbur + tommy bonding, mentions of death

day one + 1.1k wc

note; ahh here you go! sorry this is so late sob, but tommy bonding time

previous part ; seven days masterlist ; next part

after you went home that night, shaken up and in obvious need of sleep, there was still a lot on your mind. the deal, the way he said you always got on his nerves ─ it all made you sick. you were sat on your bed, thoughts racing as you tried to focus on one thing. you couldn't decipher anything, the panicking feeling of not being able to focus rising.

as you sat there, consumed by your own thoughts, you didn't notice the knock at your door. after a few moments of you not answering, still too caught up in what just happened, they opened the door. "what the hell are you doing up?" stood there, brows furrowed and had obviously just woken up, was tommy. oceanic irises stared you down when you didn't even look up.

"bloody hell," he murmured, eyes narrowed. "what's gotten you so shaken up?" you finally snapped out of your head, shooting up to look at the blond. "oh! uh, hey tommy! what're you doing awake?" you asked, trying to laugh away the tension already created in the room. "that's what i just asked you. [name], are you feeling okay?" although aggressive most of the time, tommy still cared about those close to him, you included.

the damned smiley face flashed in your mind, his voice flooding your hearing. your words got caught in your throat, blocked by the longing to tell tommy what had happened only an hour ago. "yeah," you brushed him off, swallowing harshly. "i'm fine, tommy, you doing okay?" you tried to not make it obvious that you weren't doing good, but you don't think you were doing so good.

it must be the war, tommy concluded. the blond sigh, gently shutting your door, and sitting next to you. he didn't look at you, merely staring at the bare wall. "you know, we're all still shaken up from the war. that damned bastard dream... and how could eret do that?" he spoke, frustration evident in his voice. his emotions were worn on his sleeve, all except vulnerability.

the mention of the man, the thought of him, made you sick. you struggled to contain your tears, blinking them away as your mind drifted to your current predicament. you sighed, frowning as you put your hand on tommy's shoulder. "it'll get better, tommy," you muttered, trying to be a source of comfort. "you still have me, and wilbur, and tubbo... we're all still here, tommy. we always will be."

the blond stayed silent, only nodding his head as an indication he was listening. the both of you sat in silence, until the sleep weighed down on both of you. tommy had been the one to pass out first, eyes closing as his head leaned against your shoulder. the blond was like a brother to you. you were both close, having been through similar situations.

"goodnight, tommy."

and with that, you passed out with him. your legs entangled as you both slept, much needed from what had happened earlier in the day.

when you had woke up, tommy still beside you, it dawned on you what was going to happen. dream had said he was going to kill you in a week. you assumed it started today, the fear overtaking you in a single moment. you didn't want to remember it, you didn't want to know when your death date will come up.

as you got up, listening to tommy's sleep talking and snores, you nearly began sobbing. the haunting presence of death would follow you constantly, until it could take you in its grasp. your legs shook as you stood, trying to steady yourself. you didn't want to wake tommy up, knowing he deserved the sleep.

the kid, along with tubbo, had been through so much. you felt bad for them, not wanting them to go through any more horrid situations. however, you knew as long as tommy was still acting himself, traumatized experiences would follow him wherever he went. you sighed, running your hands through your hair.

you didn't know how to concentrate on anything, not wanting to bring attention to how disheveled you were. you couldn't tell anyone about what happened, the fear that something would happen to not only you but them as well too great. you couldn't risk your friends' lives because of your own situations.

dream's words ran through your mind. the deal, the promise of death, made you shudder. you were hesitant to go outside, not wanting to see him. you couldn't stay in your room forever, the thought making you sigh as you stepped out of your room. once you had left, you frowned at the crater that was l'manberg. bits and pieces of l'manberg survived, however not much did.

the war and the betrayal was still fresh in l'manberg, evident by the thick atmosphere fogging the area up. eret, the one who had built the walls and a once trusted friend, had betrayed everyone's trust. turned their back on l'manberg for dream. you scoffed, brows furrowing. dream. it was always dream. everything bad had bloomed from him.

rage was quickly rising through you, balling up your fists. anger coursed through your veins, building up until it burst. you raged, punching at the nearest thing to you, the harsh brick of the wall scraping your knuckles. the adrenaline rushing through you allowed you reprieve from the pain. you kept punching, letting every bit of built up anger seep through your fists.

the one to stop you was wilbur. wilbur had been the one to bring you back to your senses, grabbing your hands in his. "[name], have you gone mad!?" he exclaimed, looking down at your knuckles. he sighed to calm down, frowning. "you can't hurt yourself like this, [name], okay? come on, i'll patch you up."

you went along blindly with him, hardly hearing his words. the wave of anger crashing through you made you deaf to everything else, your knuckles proof of that. you were too angry to listen to wilbur's rational words, allowing him to guide you to where he had said. your fists were still clenched, knuckles bruising and white.

once wilbur had sat you down in the caravan, you had finally calmed down. your breathing changed from harsh pants to low breaths. you frowned at wilbur, the brunette bandaging your bloody knuckles. "aren't you mad, wilbur?" you muttered, your voice low. you didn't feel like yelling.

"i am." he admitted, sighing as he tenderly rubbed your wrist, a sigh of care. "but that doesn't mean i go around punching walls. you can't hurt yourself like that, okay? we're all still here. me, tommy, tubbo ─ i promise it'll be okay." your words from last night replayed in your mind and you chuckled, nodding your head.

and, even for just a moment, you had forgotten of everything bad happening. the comfort of knowing you have your friends was enough for now.

it would change soon though.

taglist, (open)

━‎ ‎ ‎@paradigmax ; @pachowpachowbucket ; @acatstalkingyou ; @angelicaschuyler-church ; @saucey-kneecapzz42020 ; @piano-boo ; @i-need-hugs ; @strawbrinkofdeath ; @halloweenpoison13 ; @boiled-onionrings ; @feverish-dove ; @ahmya-4 ; @queenwastaken

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #dream x reader #mcyt x reader #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp imagines #mcyt imagine #( ♡ ) + seven days #( ♡ ) + bones writes

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alphabravocharliedelta · 3 years

Text

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader X

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Word Count: 7500+

[Chapter IX] [Epilogue]

Summary: After somehow reconciling with Adler, Bell and the team are left to continue their pursuit of bringing down the undercover spy ring, but it proves to be more of a challenge as Bell struggles to move on from their Perseus-affiliated past.

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, straight up agony, self-deprivation

Notes: I kind of tried to explore/experiment with Adler’s character in this one, it’s one of my favorite chapters (although a bit slow). The next installment is going to be the epilogue, so be prepared. Also, Writing’s on the Wall by Sam Smith. Thanks for reading!

January, 1984

New Jersey

Bell...

Bell!

Listen to me.

I need you to calm down and relax.

You're in the hospital, not in the lab. Remember the mall?

Good. You're in bad shape, and the doctors are trying to help you, so you need to listen carefully…

I need you to stay still.

It'll be over in a second, Bell. They're just going to sedate you, okay?

They're not here to hurt you.

When you wake up, I'll be right here. Just like I promised.

Yes, good.

See? You're fine.

It'll be over before you know it.

Adler watched as you stopped fighting against the nurses. Your hand released itself from a woman's scrubs before dropping back to your side, your stare never breaking contact from him.

“Strap them down,” one of them instructs.

He didn't even have time to object. It was apparent that you were frightened, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what was going through your mind, and instead could only hope that it didn’t stir up any past trauma from before. The look in your eyes was something that stuck out the most— You were practically begging him not to go.

Just seconds ago, they exited the ambulance just right outside the ER. Everything was a blur as they struggled to tend to your injury while rolling you down the white halls. All the medical talk threw Adler's head in a spin, and he eventually became lost on what they were going to do with you. Any attempt to ask what was going to happen was ignored.

Then you suddenly awoke, petrifying both him and the nurses, and as a result, you began to freak out uncontrollably in paranoia, opening your wound even further. Adler immediately went to your side, pushing aside anyone in his way while he attempted his best to quell your confusion.

When you came through, he couldn’t do anything but witness the medical personnel get to work in the aftermath. The nurses scrambled to put pressure over your open laceration, causing you to wince. A sedative needle was stuck into your arm.

The urge to hold your hand arose once again as a result. He wanted to grasp it on his own, while saying sensical words of reassurance, and anything else to comfort you. In the end, he wasn't allowed to. His part was done.

Security guards then pushed the large metal doors open, and the medical personnel rolled you down the long white hallway as the main doctor spewed out instructions.

Agh, fuck!

What was wrong with him? Adler immediately regretted the decision of staying behind. His feet that were stuck in place started to move on their own, about to follow them, only for the two officers to step between him and the door. He could only stand idly as it closed on its own, leaving him to peek through the tiny rectangle window.

"Sorry, sir, but only authorized personnel are allowed beyond this point."

"I'm part of the CIA—" He digs in his pockets, looking for his identification, only to be stopped by a hand. The look in their eye was condoling, and it only made him feel worse.

"Even so. Please, just let them do their job."

You'll only be a burden.

They didn't even need to say it.

0000

Adler was exhausted from the mall operation, with muscles aching. After the hospital staff parted with you, he was escorted to get some proper treatment. His face stung as they wiped his face clean and strung some cuts closed, but he could only stare at the wall in defeat.

With each step he took, he could feel his strength leave. Leaving the room, his face was covered with various sizes of padding, and a few of his fingers needed a splint. The rest of the squad didn't obtain any serious damage either; although the operation nearly cost their lives. It was a wonder as to how they all made it out in one piece.

Adler attempted to make his way to your surgery room, only to be once again stopped by more staff. Why couldn't they just let him see you?

Waiting for any news about your condition was gruesome, just breaching hour three before Adler was forced to leave. Tight lipped and firm, everyone that he encountered reminded him that he wasn’t even allowed to be there with you, and was instead situated out in the waiting room on a cold, cushioned chair. And when they ended visiting hours, he was made away from the premises, and returned to the team’s temporary base of operations just at upstate New Jersey, where everyone else awaited his arrival in the gathering area.

"Well?" Woods demanded. "How's Bell?"

"Don't know."

The first thing that stood out was the tone. Why did he sound so distant? It was like he had lost any hope for your recovery, and was already mentally preparing himself for isolation, as if you were already confirmed dead. It made Woods' blood boil. That apatheticness was the same he heard prior to the mission, and it continued to persist. Had he no shame?

Repulsed by the thought, he seizes Adler by the shirt.

“Woods—” Zenya attempts, only to be held back by Bulldozer, who shook his head. They both watched as Woods shoved their leader against the wall.

"How fucking dare you!" he seethed. "You lectured me about letting Bell run through the line of fire, yet here's your sorry ass back at the compound. Bell needs you, and yet you return here."

"I don't have authority to stay overnight, Woods." Adler pries the hand off of him. “Staying would just cause unwanted attention.”

Woods scoffs. “'Unwanted attention'? Cut the bullshit, since when did you care about that?” He flicks his hand multiple times in an attempt to get feeling back to his fingertips. Adler’s grip was way tighter than he estimated. “Fuck that. The moment you’re allowed back there, I better see your sorry ass next to that hospital bed."

He storms off.

"I'm sorry, Adler," Zenya utters empathetically.

"I had it coming."

It took a few hours before Adler got the appetite to eat again, but even then, food that once tasted good presented itself to be bland and discouraging. During times like these he would have thrown it into a container later for anyone to grab, or even offer it to you if you were still hungry, but he just slid the remains into the trash.

He crashed the moment his head hit the pillow but the horrors of recent events followed him through his dreams. Three hours later he was shocked awake, the bed sheets and his own shirt sticking to his skin thanks to sweat. Adler could only stare blindly into the pitch black darkness of his resting quarters with an arm thrown over his forehead, thinking why everything always went wrong.

Maybe he shouldn't have stuck with the plan. Adler should have instructed someone to investigate the shops and restaurants upon entering the mall instead of everyone following the damn beeping noise. But, there were only four of them, and it turned out that they were outnumbered by a long run. They should have brought more people instead of Hudson's team on standby. It was lucky enough that Woods found you when they got separated, but CIA reinforcements took a while to arrive, and by then you were already—

Enough.

He tried not to dwell on it whenever he was awake, but it didn't help that whenever he washed his hands, he could only remember the extreme warmth of your blood that coated them. The first time he purged his hands in water post-mission, it felt like the red would never disappear, spiraling down the drain in a never ending cycle. As a result, he scrubbed slightly more vigorously at his already dry and callused skin, and every following instance he did, he would always think back to the mall.

There was the light that seemed to fade as he watched your lids fall to a close, and the limpness of your hand as he tried to let it cradle his cheek. How you didn't even flinch as he continued to apply pressure over your stomach. His once pristine orange scarf now turned an entirely different shade. The crimson that continuously kept pouring out like a leak, with no signs of coagulating or stopping—

Stop. Everything's going to be fine.

For a man great at reassuring others, it did nothing to benefit himself.

The bathroom was just an opportunity for his survivor's guilt to come at him. Even if it was a place of weakness, Adler would still open the fucking door and walk in even if he didn't have the need to. It was the only place he could really wallow in pity without the concerned gazes of others. They didn't need to know.

After washing his hands, he would then throw water onto his face before drying it with a towel. His eyes would drift up to the mirror, focusing on the stripes on his face. The scar was just another part of his character (nothing special about it anymore) but it was on this occasion that he would stare at himself in the mirror.

What did you see in him? There was nothing about him, that he believed, that it was worth sacrificing your own life for. You didn't need to do it.

Adler knows clearly that he already caused you more than enough trauma, and even so, you were gracious enough to once again work side by side with him. An additional bonus of platonic activity was thrown in there as well. It was all he could have asked for but, at the same time, within the deep depths of his mind, he knew he didn't earn the honor of any of it. Yet he acted against that, taking another shot at intimacy with you.

So, why?

Just what was it about him that compelled you to commit yourself as a sacrifice? You did the exact same thing in 1981— you aimed your sidearm at him, yet never fired, even with the skill to.

He couldn't understand you, nor could he comprehend how you managed to make him feel in such a way.

Did he even deserve to see you? He failed you. He couldn't protect you.

He was—

No.

He is a coward.

"Fuck!"

A fist met the mirror, creating a web-like system on the glass.

Adler's reflection crinkled, segments of his face becoming misaligned. Tiny shards fell into the sink as he ignored the stinging pain at his knuckles. It was nothing compared to what you have gone through and he didn’t even dare to flinch or complain. Unable to bear the sight of his own patheticness, he shut his eyes, and a single tear fell and rolled off the side of his face, unacknowledged.

There were very few instances that these types of emotions would be let loose from its bottle, and this time he couldn't even compel himself to screw the cap back on. He could feel his throat begin to constrict as more tears dared to form, so he held his breath, trying to force it back down like all the other previous times.

Woods was right. Adler should have fought tooth and nail just to stay at your side, and to be there right behind the doctors as they operated on you. This was probably one of the most petrifying experiences of your life, and he wasn't even there to support you through it. He didn’t take the opportunity when he subjected you to the injection, and when the second chance rose, he didn’t even bother to fight for it. Third luck was the charm, but to wish for such an event was anything but.

And if you were to die in that hospital while he's lounging about back at this makeshift base, then everything you both built up during these past months was all for naught. He wouldn't even have the chance to say goodbye before your final breath.

With that, a single notion came into mind:

How long would it take before he unintentionally abandons you?

It was a question he couldn't even answer, and a shy knock coming from the closed door behind instead.

"Adler?" Bulldozer's voice comes through. "You good?"

Snapping his eyes back open, Adler turns on the faucet, pulling away from the mirror and running his knuckles under the water.

"I'm fine."

He was fine being alone, but being lonely was different.

0000

“We headed into the mall. The doors were blocked off, so Jones had to breach it. Right in the middle of the place was the collection of the Nova Six, rigged to explode.”

General Haig sat across the table, drumming his fingers on top of a blue folder. Placed nearby were matching files of reports and collected evidence from the Pines op. “How many?”

Adler shrugs, withdrawing an irritated huff from being let out. “I couldn't get an estimate. They were everywhere.”

Even with the unsatisfactory answer, Haig didn’t falter. “The operation after-action report states that the Nova Six canisters were successfully disarmed. You reported that Frank Woods had thrown a knife, which lodged itself into Kuzmin’s skull.”

It wasn't Woods that did the deed, but there was no need for correction. All credit would have been given to you, but your current existence was listed as MIA, and Adler fully intends to keep you a secret until he had the full capabilities to forge the documents needed to make you a genuine CIA special operative agent. Until it happened, he was going to shield you from any further authorities. Already he had to draw a line with Emerson Black with the follow up email, and he would do it again if someone ever decided to poke their nose into your business. It was the least he could do for you.

“Hudson made it clear that the orders given were to prioritize the gas, Stitch being second,” Adler responds overtly. “I fail to see the issue at hand here.”

“There was failure to confirm Vikhor Kuzmin’s body. It wasn’t there during the final run over.”

He takes a long drag of his cigarette, before exhaling the plumes of white through his nose. It was his third one within the span of ninety minutes. “Your point?”

“The point is that he could still be alive. If there’s no body to recover, then where do you suggest it is?”

Fishing through the mass of folders, Adler plucked out the most recently dated one. It appeared to have never been opened, the paper clips still fastened at the top, holding everything together.

“Sir, with all due respect, I find it improbable that a man who took a military-grade knife to the forehead would be walking about. And for someone that’s the General of the U.S. Army—” he condemns, flipping through the contents. He stops at one of the plastic bags secured between a few papers. Opening it, he takes out the one on top before tossing it on top of the table. “—You clearly don’t look through everything we give you.”

It was a photo of Stitch, who laid sprawled on the ground with the murder weapon right where you chucked it into. The colors were a bit dark with low saturation, but it was possible to depict the unmistakable build of Kuzmin. Haig returns a look of bewilderment as he plucks it from the desk. “When did—”

“One of Hudson's men happened to have a camera on them. This was before the clean up crew came in an hour later. It took a bit to process, given everything else we needed to wrap up, but I believe that should answer your question.” Adler leans back in the chair, gaining some pleasure seeing Haig’s confliction. “Happy?”

To be called into a room to have a meeting with the General of the U.S. Army, only for it to turn into a mini-interrogation, wasn't taken kindly by Adler. He was already in a labyrinthine state, and to be subjected to useless questions that could be answered if someone simply knew how to use their eyes didn't help his mood. It was already difficult enough holding up the image of a functioning being that wasn’t on the verge of snapping.

"Your methods are, like always, unconventional," Haig finally lets out, setting the photo back down. "I suggest you tread these waters carefully, Adler. Your reputation may be great, but there's only so much we can do to keep you out of the light of the public."

"For you to think of me in such a way is an honor on its own, sir. But, your preferences have been noted for consideration."

He receives an apprehensive glare. "This isn't a subject we can afford to—"

A knock came from the dark brown door behind them. After a few seconds, a man in a suit enters and holds a phone out to Adler. "It's for you."

He raises an eyebrow, tapping his cigarette out on the tray in front of him before taking the call. "Adler."

Haig could only wait and listen to the short and abrupt statements Adler delivers to the person on the other end. Whatever the context of the conversation was, his face didn't even contort, remaining stone-like with a couple nods. The call lasted half a minute before Adler hung up.

"Well sir…” Handing the phone back, he rubs the cig out before placing his hands on the wooden desk, pushing himself up to a standing pose. "As much as I would love to continue our talk, it seems that it'll have to be cut short.

"We're not finished yet, Adler."

"I got you the results you wanted. There's no need for further discussion." Adler slips back into his coat, making a beeline to the door that was held open for him. He turns to Haig at the last minute, as if to add further insult to injury. "Now, if you excuse me, I have someone to visit. Adieu, sir. Have a wonderful fucking day."

0000

Adler walks up to the front desk, flashing his CIA badge. The receptionist nods, flipping through the stack of papers on her clipboard, before handing it to him. After filling out the forms, he makes his way to the direction the doctors last rolled your gurney through before he was kicked out.

"Wait, sir!"

He freezes in his tracks, before pivoting back around back to the desk, where the lady from before looked at him sheepishly.

"Is something wrong?" Adler asks. He hoped to whatever god was out there that nothing had happened while he was out. If something did, Black better cross his fingers that he wasn't going to retire on the spot. There was enough bullshit as is.

Fuck! What if something did occur?

A string of swears began to fill his head as his heart began to wrangle itself at the mere thought of you passing. The call he had earlier said the surgery was finished and you were stable enough, so there shouldn't be room for speculation. But, on the chance that something did happen just mere minutes ago right before he arrived—

"We moved them to a new unit."

He releases a long sigh, not realizing he held his breath. Adler nods as a thanks, while silently cursing them for the build up as he strides towards the direction they pointed to.

Fast forward a few minutes later, a couple of wrong turns, and resisting the urge to just yell, Adler now stood under the doorway of your assigned hospital room. There was no nameplate, or any other bed. It was just you in the center as a nurse quickly catered to your form and filled out the chart on the clipboard.

He lingered for a moment, watching them work. The doctor came in shortly after, explaining what happened during your surgery, and he nodded along silently.

You were unrecognizable at first glance with half your head covered, still sleeping under the mass of bandages that covered your body but his own dog tags gave away that it was you.

You had his dog tags with you? And wore it?

The nurse and doctor take their leave and he sits next to your bed in one of the chairs. You didn't stir at his presence, not awake, but it was understandable.

As time elapsed, Adler spent it watching your chest rise and fall at a slow even pace with the assistance of a breathing mask. His hands flipped the cassette tape in his hand anxiously, observing for any signs of you waking up.

Your figure looked so frail against the medical equipment around you. Half of your head was wrapped up in bandages, covering up your left eye. Crawling out underneath them was a long gash that went down your face, sewn to a close with medical thread. It shook him to the core, just looking at the state of you. He's seen worse injuries, sure, but seeing you lying down on the hospital bed was different.

There were so many things that were left unsaid between you and him. It took him a while to realize it, but he eventually came to terms that he was starting to develop feelings for you. It was something he hasn't felt for the longest time. Adler couldn't pinpoint exactly where his love for you started to bear its fruit, but it was clear to him that you meant something to him. And that kiss you shared was proof of it.

All those missions you went on with, he automatically knew that you both were a dynamic duo. As you had his back, he had yours. How you were just able to tell what move he was going to take next, or how easily you adapted to a change of plans was something he had admired about you. It was extremely upsetting, knowing that you had both met under unfavorable circumstances, but he had no choice back then.

The mission came first.

That's what Adler always told himself. It was the words he lived by for the longest time he was on the force. Many sacrifices had to be made, many soldiers left behind, but in the end it was a stride towards keeping America free.

You were originally just some Soviet that was converted into a little science project. Everything he learned, every motto he always followed, only to face the fact that he's become blind, driven by the force to stop Perseus— Whatever it takes. That's why he followed through it all. Yet, at the same time, nothing could have warned him about the magnitude of influence you would come to have on him. With your simple existence, it made him doubt those beliefs of patriotism. Your willingness to so easily challenge orders, or your determination, no matter what the circumstances, changed him. The longer he worked alongside you, the more difficult it was to hide his feelings. Adler came to care about you, despite you being the enemy.

And he didn't know what to do.

It was the same confliction he felt after executing you on that arctic mountain. The CIA was something he devoted his life to, and for Adler to choose his job over love, and everything else he once cherished, was nothing short of easy. Leaving behind those types of emotions became less difficult over the years, as the things that he threw away for the sake of freedom never came back to bite him in the ass. If there were another alternative than MKUltra, he would have taken it, but he still stood by the decision and was fine if you are never able to forgive him. Shooting you on that cliff took a lot of willpower, but he had to do it.

So, the moment he laid eyes on your figure after two years, the moment he let you cave his face in, he couldn't think about anything else but you. Adler had to come face-to-face with the results of his actions, and from that point on it was always about you. You were no longer the person he left behind. Your act in the mall was the representation of the person you have grown to become, and what you were willing to do.

Whatever it takes.

It was beyond his understanding as to how you were even to move, much or less stand. The injuries that you sustained were way worse than you presented it to be, and yet you toughed it out, and managed to pull yourself together. You saved his life.

And, despite everything he's done, he was let off with a slap of a wrist, while you always seemed to receive the punishment in his stead.

Now, he could only fiddle around endlessly with the cassette tape in his hand, flipping it over and over, sitting in a chair as he waited for you to stir. Adler never really did thank you enough for the things you do for him (when was the last time he did?). With that, showing his appreciation immediately skyrocketed to top on the list of "things he should first say when you wake up."

Except you never did.

You never woke up.

He waited patiently each day at your bedside as if a dog was waiting for its owner, ready to be there the moment your eyes fluttered open. Adler had to convince multiple people to even get consistent access to your room, and did what had to be done in order to avoid getting penalized for overstaying. Days turned into a week, and then one week turned to two...

You were still sound asleep in the comatose state, giving out no indication of coming back to consciousness.

Whenever there was an opportune moment, Adler would jump into the car and drive to the hospital. He would make frequent mental notes on the songs that played on the radio as he pondered which ones you would like. Lyrics was something he didn’t pay much attention to originally, but now it was something he found himself reciting and playing back.

For someone stingy like him when it came to money, Adler was quick to head to the gas station every few hospital visits. The nurses, receptionists, and cashiers from the ER and nearby stores had already adjusted to his spontaneous appearances, giving him a pitiful nod each time.

Each paper he filled out, whether it be work related or visitation requirements, Adler lost motivation to think about it thoroughly. Sure, it served as a great distraction, but once it left his hands, reality swooped back in.

How many times did he walk in and take a seat on this old creaky chair?

A knock came from behind. Looking back, Adler sees Lazar standing at the door with a handful of balloons. He was wearing a dark green scarf with a dark grey vest jacket and black jeans. Dark circles were under his eyes as well, it seems like no one had gotten some sleep since the mall.

"You came here lookin' like that?" Adler muses loudly.

"C'mon Adler. Like you look any better."

He was right. Adler hadn't gotten as much sleep as he wanted ever since he first arrived at the hospital with you. Nor has he shaved the past few days, only taking time to half-ass his hair for a pathetic assurance to others that he was perfectly fine. But, how could he, knowing that you were practically playing roulette with Death? The mere thought of you never waking up, or never seeing you again scared him.

Lazar walks over to your bedside table with the balloons trailing behind him, and Adler watches in small amusement as it dragged along the roof. "How'd you even get in here?"

"Told them I was Bell's brother."

Adler shakes his head with a dry chortle, at least finding some humor in his colleague’s words. "You two look nothing alike."

"Good thing the desk lady was old then." Lazar's eyes lingered on your bedridden form, and a pang of regret hit him. The image of you back at Pines was ingrained in his memory, and it was awful. "Anything new?"

“Same old. You?”

“Could be better.”

Unable to find a good place for the balloons, Lazar just ties it to the side of your bed. You didn't stir a bit, the only signs of life being the constant beating of the heart monitor and the fogginess of your ventilator mask. A tense silence instilled itself in the room.

"The rest of the team is worried about you," he relays somberly.

"They shouldn't be."

A part of Lazar partially blamed Adler for all of this: he was the one to kickstart your entire spiral down the pit of chaos, and for things to turn out the way it did was thanks to Adler's part of incapability to go against orders. If he never shot you on the cliffside, would you now have been lying in a comatose state in a hospital?

There was something with your eyes, he noted, that seemed to glimmer brightly and confidently despite the horrors you've both been through. Yet, behind it was the cold, dead feeling, with nothing but a shell of your original self, now filled with the horrors of war and leftover remains of brainwashing.

Lazar sighs. "We're always here to talk, you know."

Albeit at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to constantly project his anger at Adler. He must have been suffering in his own way as well. Their leader was a mess during the exfil, and Woods had to pry Adler’s hands away from your body just so they could put you on a stretcher. There was a collective inaudible agreement amongst the rest of the team members that to see him in such a state of distress and defeat was something they should tread carefully on.

"I think I'm good."

Yet for a guy who acted in such a way then, Adler sure didn’t do much to comfort himself. As far as Lazar knew, Adler didn’t even mention your name or have an outburst, as one should in his position. Those that approached him had to lead the conversation and get specific with questions. Everything was so complicated when it came to Adler, and the easiest solution for people like him was to just suck it up and keep it all in.

"How can you just sit there?" he blurts out in frustration.

Adler raises his eyebrows. "What are you on about?"

"Are you a brick wall?" Lazar lets out an irked groan. "Cry, hold Bell's hands, go talk to them. Anything but just sit there, because moping around and feeling guilty isn't going to help anyone. So do everyone else a favor, and just spit out whatever you want to say to Bell. At least spare them the courtesy of waiting for you."

Adler sat, appalled to hear Lazar berate him in such a way. "Are you suggesting romantic relationships on the job? If that's—"

"Who cares?" he interrupts. "Stop avoiding it, I see you. Just because you made some shitty decisions in your lifetime doesn't mean you get to die alone. Bell likes you, Adler. And I know you do, too. And you're just killing us here by not acting on it."

"I don't like them."

Did he just say that? How could he lie through his own teeth? Why was he acting like this?

Lazar throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. "Your fucking kidding me. The entire safehouse knows how you two look at each other."

How do I look at Bell?

He clicks his tongue at the thought. "No idea what you're talking about, Lazar."

As far as Adler knew, there wasn't any prolonged staring or obvious daydreaming that would indicate to the team members that he, to an extent, coveted you. What, then, gave it away? Did they catch you with his belongings? Or maybe it was the time when he tagged along with you to the practice range… No, it had to be the one where he shared his dinner with you back in October. So much happened within the last quarter of 1983 that he lost track of the time. He made sure to restrain himself, therefore lacking in deep physical affection other than bumping hands or shoulders because he was secretly afraid of it developing into something more.

Yet, now he came to realize that he came to crave a bit more than just passerby contact.

"Face the facts, Adler. Enough lying to yourself. You can put up this nonchalant and detached character for all I fucking care, but you know damn well that there's no way to avoid those feelings inside of you." Lazar's voice softens up, "Don't become the monster they make you out to be.”

Before they're gone.

He never got the chance to get that drinking date with Park. No drinking the beer she called "horse piss". Lazar didn't even have the chance to fully confess what he thought of her, only leaving it up to the flirtatious attitudes and conversations that continued to bug the rest of the crew. And now, with her gone, there was that loose end that will never be finished, leaving him to deal with whatever he could scavenge.

And he didn't want Adler to go through the same thing.

“...Monster. Huh.” That was a title he hasn’t heard for a while.

Even then, what would Adler talk to you about? There was nothing about himself he found interesting, nor did anything of importance stir up as of late. Bringing up work related subjects was contraband, so that would leave civilian life and whatever he did in his free time.

Lazar notes the struggle, retracting back his anger. "Don't think about it too hard. Why don't you read a book out loud or something? Actually, Bell likes music right? How about you sing—"

"You did not just suggest that I sing, Eleazar."

"Hey, it's all up to you. Maybe Sims still has that radio he tinkers around with."

The radio was the one no one was allowed to touch. But, Adler could perhaps find a way to convince his friend to hand it over. "I'll think about it."

"Like I said. If you need ideas, just ask." With a satisfied nod, Lazar takes a look at his watch, only for his eyes to widen. "Shit, papers are due. Did you—"

"I already submitted mine."

"Damn it, and no reminder?" Lazar heads towards the door in a rushed manner, tugging at the ends of his jacket to tighten it over his chest. Lazar pauses right under the frame, shooting Adler a final look. "Do you want me to bring you anything, or…?"

"No." Adler pauses. "Actually, wait. Since they're sending a few people back to the warehouse, tell them to find Bell's jacket. The black bomber. Fairly new, started being worn after Christmas. There's fur around the neck and inside—"

"I know what it looks like. Isn’t that the one you gave them?"

Such an article of clothing was hard to forget and easily identifiable with the patches sewn onto the sleeves. It became commonality for you to wear it every time you had to go out, and with the frequency of its use, it was almost like it was specifically made for you. The jacket practically became a must-wear whenever you left the safehouse.

"...Don't you have papers to tend to?"

Lazar gives him a cheeky grin, savoring the small victory for putting Adler on the spot, before exiting.

0000

"Hey. You're back early."

Adler sheds his jacket, before tossing it over his shoulder to let it hang. "Just came to pick up some stuff."

"You holding up okay?" Sims asks, holding out a styrofoam take out box to him.

"Couldn't be better."

It was an obvious lie, but Sims didn’t pry any further.

The whiteness of the hospital was starting to become an eyesore, and sitting in a chair sulking wasn't going to get anything else done. Adler could wait by your side as long as he wanted, but the world around him moved on, and he needed something to occupy himself. He prided himself in the inability to get bored easily, yet sitting in that hospital with no changes did some damage to his sanity. Seeing how there was little to nothing left he could do for you, he was left with the choice of paperwork or seclusion.

He would take that time to drive around the neighborhood, staring at the city night lights as rush hour traffic started to dwindle. This time, after refueling gas, he returned back to base at around 7 p.m..

To have such emptiness follow him around was draining. Everything he did felt like routine, just letting a ghost lead him around to wander about while he submerged himself in overthinking and brooding. It wasn’t healthy by all means, but it made time pass in a blur. Three weeks wasn’t much in a long run, but in the waking moments it felt like an eternity.

“Where’s everyone else?” Adler inquires, taking a bite.

“Just down the hall, drinking. Since you're here, though…” Sims hands him a medium sized shipping box. Setting down his dinner and rummaging through it, Adler found a book, the radio, and your jacket, folded neatly and recently washed. “Don’t break my goods now, I spent a good chunk of my time fixing that player.”

“I'll think about it. What's the book for?”

“So you don’t get bored. Are you going to join us for a couple shots?”

0000

It was morning. The sun that just made it out of the horizon gave the skyscraper windows a nice white glare while a light drizzle came from above. With the hospital window open ajar, Adler leans on his elbows placed on the window sill, looking out to the street below.

His glasses were propped on his head, a cigarette placed in his mouth as he let the ashes fly away. A persistent headache kept pounding at the Adler’s temples from the amount of drinks he had the night prior.

Although temporary, the alcohol managed to relieve the stress he had continuously built up the past few weeks. He put down his barriers only for that moment, intaking more gulps than he knew he could handle to get wasted, just purging everything out of his head. For once the rambunctious noise of the rest of the team members settled his unrest. He knocked out eventually, getting a somewhat decent amount of sleep in.

Now it was back to reality.

Adler looked down at the book that rested open on the window sill, dusting away the remaining ash from the pages and continued reading a paragraph. He wasn't an avid reader, nor were the contents of the novel Sims provided all that attention grabbing, but it was enough to keep him engrossed for a short while.

A nurse walks in, about to go through the usual routine. “No smoking sir.”

Disposing of the stick without objections, he attempts to continue reading, only to lose track and get distracted by movement just right outside his peripherals. Instead, Adler shuts the book closed and walks over to the side table, flicking on the radio and beginning to fumble around with the knob. He watches as the red line slides up and down the station markers, trying to get an efficient signal.

The nurse eyes him as he does. “There’s a theory going around that music can actually aid in patients’ recovery."

Adler wasn't in the morning mood for small talk, but found the hypothesis worth paying attention to. “Really?”

“Having a familiar stimulus for them to listen to is thought to evoke increased brain activity.”

“At least there’s one thing I’m doing right.”

He continues to flip through the stations, listening to the ocean of static and incomplete sentences as musical notes cut off to their own accord with each adjustment. Upon first meeting you, Adler didn’t associate you as being the type of person who takes pleasure in submerging themselves into music, but after he gave you the Walkman, you proved him wrong. It was only recently, around early November, that you informed him that it helped you tuned out voices that visit sporadically.

Actually, what was your favorite song? All the ones on the mixes he gave you were a compilation of his personal tastes. Now he had another question he looked forward to asking.

Unable to come to a conclusion, Adler releases the knob and plops back into the chair, listening to what the radio had in store. The nurse takes her leave without another word.

A spokesperson with a low and pleasing voice spoke barely above a whisper, reading off the name of the arrangements before letting them play. It wasn't a displeasing genre to listen to. Quite the opposite, actually, but there was always that strange eeriness behind the musical notes.

Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy.

Erik Satie’s Gymnopedie No. 1.

Nocturne in E Minor by Chopin—

If anything, it was good for sitting in peace and falling asleep to. He couldn't catch himself in time, eyelids already drooping.

0000

Adler's eyes snap open abruptly. He didn't even realize that he had fallen asleep, but at this point it should have been no surprise. It happened practically everyday now as he waited for you, and he did his damn hardest to have his eyes open, just in case. Considering the multiple results from his lack of supervision of you, there was a growing phobia that if he were to look away, something bad might happen.

What time is it?

9:04 am.

Out for two hours. He has about thirty minutes to spare before having a meeting with Hudson.

Adler conjures up a sigh, and leans back to study the ceiling, waiting for the energy to kick back in.

So much happened in such a short span, and Adler had to give you credit for your hardship and ability to withstand it all. It was a dark thought, and he hated himself for it coming into bloom, but the current state that you were in was probably the best outcome. You didn't have to worry about work, you didn't need to hold a weapon. You could just rest.

How would you react if you woke up and no one was there? Adler felt revolted at himself for just even fathoming the idea of abandoning you here— cut off all of your ties with the CIA, so you can live a new life. But no, he couldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t dare to.

If he did announce that you were no longer under the reigns of the CIA, what would you do? As far as he knew, there was no other place for you to return to, and he knew for a fact that the entire safehouse had become like a strange family to you.

So, what were you seeing behind those closed eyes of yours? Were you scared, floating in darkness? Or were you dreaming of a better tomorrow?

Adler could only surmise to himself, only hearing stories of coma patients and their experiences. It's something he came to think as of late, thoughts repeating over and over as he could only wait for an answer that no one could provide except yourself.

No use dwelling on it.

He gets up from his spot, the past couple hours uneventful like the previous days. He runs through a couple stretches, feeling his bones pop a couple times.

It was nearing 9:20 am. Adler eyes drift back to your bed, about to take his leave and give an unspoken farewell, only to do a double take.

Your current position was different.

It was way off from before.

Comparing it to the previous days, you were now more upright and apparently well. You were sitting up.

Face turned away and out the window, looking at the morning dews and drops that slid down the glass.

Outside, the sun was in a higher position, sunlight streaming through the clouds as it highlighted your white covered form. There were a few minor adjustments, some equipment no longer attached. The radio that was turned to a low right before he passed out was now clearly audible.

Not only that, but the heart rate monitor he became so used to hearing was now at a different tempo that indicated activeness. How did he not notice it right from the get-go?

No fucking way.

"Bell?" he manages to force out. It came out as a whisper, in awe and in skepticism.

Adler sees you practically brighten up at the mention of your name, the red line earning a sudden spike.

You turn towards him with a smile that he thought could compete with the happiness of a child waking up to the morning of Christmas, and he could feel his breath leave.

"Hey Russ."

#the ending for this chapter ends so abruptly I—#like it's just sudden but I couldn't really picture it any other way #anyways yeah woot final chapter next time #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #call of duty x reader #adler x reader #bo:cw #black ops cold war #cod black ops cold war #call of duty #fanfic #abcd briefing #text #russell adler #bell

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moonlit-imagines · 3 years

Text

The Doctor Is Out

Stephen Strange x reader

warnings:

a/n: wrote this a while ago and its been sitting in my drafts. part 1/2

prompt:

In (2)

Without opening your eyes, you stretched your stiffened body against the silk sheets and rolled over to face your husband.

“Good morning, dear.” You whispered through a yawn, which led into a smile. Stephen was already awake and reading one of the many books he kept at his bedside.

“And good morning to you, too.” He leaned over and gave you a kiss on the temple, letting your eyes flutter open. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’d say so.” You reluctantly sat up on your side of the bed, pushing the covers away. “Any plans for today?”

“Not in particular.” Stephen decided to get out of bed with you and get ready for the day, although he was in a gray jacket and blue jeans in the blink of an eye. “We don’t have very much to eat, I might go run out for lunch.”

“Lunch?” You asked as you pulled on a pair of pants.

“Yes, well, you seem to have gotten a late start on the day.” Your husband explained. “I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so content with your dreams.” You took Stephen’s wrist to take a look at the time.

“It’s half past eleven?” You stared in shock at your husband’s watch. “You just waited for me?” He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Stephen rarely ever let himself lag behind, it was truly sweet of him to keep you company while you drifted through the peace of your head, thoughts you’d already forgotten. “It seems the odds were in our favor when our paths first crossed, huh?”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, my dear.” Stephen’s barely shaking hands cupped your face and right before he leaned in for a refreshing kiss to the lips, he whispered, “I’m not as great a man as you make me out to be.”

You hummed into the kiss he gave you and pulled back just a tad. “Oh, you’re right. You’re just the worst.” Sarcasm failed to escape you in moments like these, it was more entertaining than anything else in the eyes of your husband. “Now, I’m starving. Want to go to the deli around the block?”

“That’ll work. We should ask Wong if he’s hungry, too.”

—————

“You don’t have any money?” Stephen asked as the three of you walked through the Sanctum in a fixed line.

“Attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual.” Wong’s wise words rung in your mind as you tried to figure out what he did before the two of you had moved in with him.

“I’ll tell the guys at the deli.” Stephen snarked. “Maybe they’ll make you a metaphysical ham on rye.”

“It’s fine, we’ll pay for your lunch.” You interjected after hearing enough of that. Somehow, the trip down the stairs was unsuccessful since your steps from only a few seconds ago were nothing but rubble. You fell to the floor as Stephen and Wong took defensive positions.

“Thanos is coming.” An unfamiliar voice spoke as you lay on the cold floor. Were you able to get up on your own? Probably, but that fall would definitely leave a mark. After a moment’s time of your lonely visit with the floor, your partner rushed over to you.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” He crouched beside you and helped you back up, lightly brushing your cheek as he checked for any injuries.

“I think I’m okay.” You nodded. “Hit my head on the way down.” Peering over his shoulder while he checked your head for any bumps, you saw Dr. Bruce Banner crawl from the rubble. “Do I have a concussion or was it a gamma scientist that just crashed into the Sanctum?”

“Hi, I’m Doctor—” He waved just before you cut him off.

“I know who you are, Doctor Banner.” You replied with a smirk. “I’m Dr. L/N-Strange, specializing in neuroscience, but formerly gamma research.” Stephen smiled himself when he heard you say your name and just a little more when you described your profession. Maybe he was just proud to be near someone so accomplished.

“I don’t think you have a concussion.” A kiss on your forehead was the best medicine he could give, but you knew that it also meant he needed to get to work.

“‘Formerly gamma?’ Why’s that?” Bruce asked, somehow ignoring the big picture here. I mean, you were just happy to get some visitors, I suppose. You’d answer anything.

“For a while, they went hand-in-hand for me. You’d be surprised at what could be accomplished when you put them together...” You explained, Stephen patiently listening beside you.

“But?” Bruce pried a little more.

“But then I heard about your little ‘accident,’ decided to take a break just in case. Refocus my research.” You felt your partner’s hand rest on your shoulder and slide down your arm as you watched Dr. Banner’s guilty expression surface. It wasn’t your intention to offend, you were just obliging to his curiosity.

“As much as I love hearing you talk about your career, darling,” Stephen finally stepped in, “I think we need to talk about the threat to our planet?”

“I was wondering when you’d stop me.” You chuckled. “That’s alright, I’ll just go pick up lunch for you three. Dr. Banner, do you like sandwiches?”

“I...yes? I guess so. Turkey and swiss is...I haven’t had that in a while.” He stammered, leaving you to peer over at your husband and have him give you a near-identical look. Sometimes, the two of you just thought that same exact things, no words needed.

“Will you two stop doing that weird thing where you stare at each other in silence? We have work to do!” Wong interrupted and you decided it was about time to head out.

“Love you, Stephen.” You said with an amused shake of your head, giving him a quick peck in the lips.

“Love you, too. Don’t be too long if you can help it, Dr. Banner seems to have a pretty good idea of dangers to come.” He told you as his cloak gave you a quick pat on the arm. You didn’t know whether to say goodbye to his outerwear, as well.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You winked and pat the red cloak back, heading for the door that your bag was hung beside. Now was the time for a walk to clear your mind, no “Thanos” or whatever the hell that was. Just the music to your ears that was Bleeker Street traffic and insufferable pedestrians. You just kept your eyes front and went on walking, you’d walk straight through crowds if you had to.

A few block’s worth of steps and you’d reached the deli that was so dear to your husband, now it was time to wait in line, a pretty long one, nonetheless. Maybe it was time to shoot Stephen a text.

Just made it to the deli ;) Anything I should be worried about out here?

Tony Stark is here. Outlook not so good.

Did you just magic 8-ball me?

“Dude, are you texting right now?” Tony asked in disbelief of the wizard looking down at his phone. It wasn’t very typical of him to check it in times like these, but you had a specific ringtone. Once he hears that ringtone, he replies. No matter what.

“I always answer my s/o.” He cleared his throat and stashed his phone away.

“At least we have something in common.”

—————

The line at the deli took so long that you got caught in the crossfire of an alien attack. Was it unbelievably amazing? Of course. Was it one of the most terrifying days of your life? You bet.

You could no longer get ahold of your husband and you soon knew why when he flew overhead in an attempt of offense. You’re guessing that these people were looking for the Time Stone.

Desperately hoping for one of your wizard “pals” to come and save you, maybe have you fall through a portal and back into Sanctum, you just hid in an alley. This may be one of the lows in your life, but you’d see worse days soon enough.

And the invasion was over just like that. You, like many other New Yorkers, stepped from the crevices of the streets to witness the damage firsthand.

“Uh, Dr. L/N!” That same voice from earlier spoke, causing you to swivel your head and see Bruce waving you down. Since he was the first person you recognized out here, it’d be best for you to head his way. It was a maze of cars, bricks, and broken glass before you’d made it over to him.

“Where’s Stephen? Or Wong? Tony Stark?” You bombarded him as if he weren’t stressed enough, but scientists always wanted answers. He knew that from experience.

“The aliens have your husband.” A line you never thought you’d have to hear. This better be a sick dream. “Wong said he was going back to the ‘Sanctum’ to protect it, and Tony is also with the aliens.”

“At least my husband has backup.” You sighed with a slight hint of relief, but your stomach was still turning just thinking about what they might do to Stephen. If they wanted that Stone, they’d do whatever they could to get it. Stephen was as smart as he was stubborn, it’d take a lot to get him to hand it over.

“Are you going back home?” He asked as he snagged a phone from the rubble.

“I figure you have a plan, I’m coming with you.” You watched him freeze for a moment with a name on the phone highlighted. “Trying to reassemble the Avengers, huh?”

“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it’s going to be dangerous.” Way to state the obvious. You didn’t know if you could handle it, but...

“I have to get my husband back, I can’t just wait around.” You wouldn’t back down, but it was a little comforting to have someone backing him up. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to put myself to good use.”

—————

It has been...twenty days since the disappearance of several Earth-based heroes. Among them was Spider-Man, Tony Stark, and your husband. But today was the day you’d know the truth.

Half the population had vanished into thin air. It was hard to tell if anyone had survived the trip to space. You’d been staring out the window all day, just trying to spot the cosmic wonder that was “Captain Marvel.” If anyone could find them, it was her.

Just as you were about to nod off, a bright glare intruded in the sky.

“Guy? Guys! She’s back!” Everyone had been on edge today, so they were ready to dash outside. Your heart was beating out of your chest, this was the moment of truth.

Carol landed a beat-up spaceship onto the open field and out stumbled Tony Stark and what looked to be an alien. You stared at the ship’s door, waiting for one more person. Just one more.

Everyone was staring at you now, waiting for you to realize that your husband wasn’t in there. Once Tony caught sight of you, he pieced together who you were.

“You must be the wizard’s s/o?” He leaned against his fiancée and Captain America, struggling to look you in the eye. “He wanted me to give you a message. Uh...sorry, I’m going blank, rough ride.” He rubbed his forehead as you stood there in tears. “‘This will make sense later.’ Oh, and he loves you.”

“I...” Everyone was still looking at you with pity in their eyes. Yes, they all lost people, but you were still clinging onto hope. All of your optimism had been destroyed in these past few moments, you didn’t even know how you were supposed to take this. “I need a minute. I’m sorry.” You stormed off into the guest bedroom of Avengers HQ, leaving everyone around you worried. You didn’t know them long, but it was easy to bond through a trauma like this.

“Y/N?” Bruce knocked on the door. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.” You reluctantly answered and Bruce let himself in.

“I brought you carrots.” He offered the bowl. “It was all we had in the fridge, sorry.”

“We have to find Thanos.” You grumbled though tears. “I won’t give up until we fix what he did.” Bruce stayed silent out of fear, he knew what could happen to someone in mourning. People can get...crazy.

“We’ll do the best we can. We’re working on it.” Bruce explained as he set the food down on your end table.

“Take me with you. I have to be there this time.” You were in no way qualified to face an intergalactic being capable of that much destruction.

“Y/N, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” He shyly countered you, using this calm tone was an exercise he learned during “anger management,” maybe it could help.

“I wasn’t asking.”

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