#and it thumps with the want of safety and protection | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sanguineterrain · 5 months

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savior | jason todd

Summary: Red Hood is the stuff of nightmares. Red Hood is no hero. Red Hood is your best friend.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: angsttt, reader is afraid of red hood and they discover that he's jason, injured and kidnapped reader, emotional hurt no comfort.

A/N: hey guys! i didn't know what the hell to write so. this is what i came up with. hope ya like it :) if you like this fic, lmk through comments and reblogs!

the divider

“You fucked up!”

You wince at the shouting and the ringing in your ears. You try to sit up but that makes things hurt, so you lie still and listen.

"What? You said pick a civilian!”

"I don't give a fuck what I said; obviously, you screwed up! He's not coming!"

You close your eyes, trying not to throw up on your gag.

Batman? Batman isn't coming?

No, that can't be. Batman knows everything that happens in his city. He wouldn't abandon a civilian in need.

You try to take a deep breath, but your chest tightens instead. Jason's probably tearing his hair out if he's home from work. He always stresses safety, to the point of paranoia.

Lock your doors. Don't walk down this street. Did you get home okay? Text me when you get home.

You hope Batman's out there, somewhere. Or any of the Bats. You don't want to die. You really, really don't want to die.

Thump!

Something hits the ground. There's a shout.

“You fucking shitheads! You were supposed to check the—”

Gunfire erupts suddenly, and you tuck your head between your knees as best as you can, with your hands and ankles bound.

Thump! Thump!

More bodies hit the ground. But Batman doesn't do guns.

"What the fuck is this?" comes a distorted voice.

Your blood chills.

"H-Hood!” one of the kidnappers squeaks. “Sh-shit. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Protecting Gotham,” Hood says. “What’re you doing, McKelly? Thought you were on the straight and narrow. Thought the Bats taught you what happens to people who lose their way. Did the lesson not stick?”

“It’s not what it looks like, Hood! We just needed some extra cash and Black Mask—I swear, we weren’t gonna do anything to—”

“Was it worth it? He’s got my attention now.”

“It was meant to draw out Batman! Not you, honest! Aw, Hood, please. I’ll be good after this, I swear!”

“You assholes just don’t learn your lesson, do you?”

He turns and locks in on you. You freeze, tensing up.

“You hurt them," he says, voice like steel. "You hurt them. And you would've hurt them more, wouldn't you?"

“Hood—”

"I’ll kill you all.”

He shoots McKelly in the chest. You scream through the gag. Red Hood looks at you, and it seems to rekindle his anger tenfold.

He shoots the two remaining guys in the head. McKelly writhes, screaming. You shut your eyes and turn away from the bloodshed, stomach rolling. The crunch of bone and muscle makes you sick.

"Hood, please! This ain’t your s—”

The next shot silences the room. Your heart rate skyrockets; is this a rescue or a massacre?

As the footsteps get closer, you press yourself into the wall and quiver. Red Hood is terrifying. He's merciless, bloodthirsty. You know the stories. You don't even know why he's here in the first place. This isn't his territory; you live far from Crime Alley. What is he doing all the way out here?

You peek one eye open. Red Hood freezes. He's about two feet away from you. His jacket and helmet are splattered with dark blood. Tears prick your eyes.

"Hey," he says roughly, like he’s not fully present. "’S okay. Y’alright?”

You nod rapidly. In reality, your ankle throbs, you might be concussed, and you’re sick with fear. And you don't want Red Hood anywhere near you.

"Okay. I'm gonna remove the gag."

You can't really protest; Red Hood's a big guy, and he has a lot of weapons on his body. All you can hope is that he won't decide to pick up where your kidnapper left off.

He removes the gag. Then he pulls out a blade.

"Please don't hurt me," you say.

Red Hood stills. His voice is thick when he speaks again. The modulator doesn't soften his words.

"I would—I would never hurt you. I don't hurt innocents. I... I came here to save you.”

It still doesn’t make sense in your mind, Red Hood being so far from the Bowery. You press your cracked lips together. You don't want to throw up. If you throw up in front of Hood, he might change his mind about saving you.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s alright. I’m gonna remove the zip ties now, okay?”

You don't have a choice, so you watch the blade whisper past your skin. It would be so easy for Hood to cut more than the restraints. It's all you can think about, frankly.

He makes quick work of the binds. His hand lingers on your wrist. There’s blood on his sleeve. Your heart pounds in your chest.

He finally lets go and you pull away, scooting to the side. That puts pressure on your ankle, though, and you can't hide your wince.

"Your ankle," he says. "Let me see.”

You shake your head. "No, I'm f-fine. I just want to go home. It'll heal.”

Hood seems to make a decision then. He reaches for his helmet. It clicks and he pulls it off.

No. No, it can’t be. It can’t.

“Hey,” Jason says, smiling a little. “‘S just me. Just Jay. You’re safe.”

Your eyes dart between Jason and the bodies. This time, you can’t swallow your nausea; you throw up. There’s tears in your eyes. Your face is hot and sweaty.

“You–you killed them,” you whisper.

Jason’s smile fades. “They hurt you. I… I saved you. It’s okay. ‘S just me.”

You clench your hands, willing them to stop shaking. He watches you for a long moment. Then he puts his hand out. You flinch.

Silence stretches. Then Hood—Jason speaks.

"You're scared of me.”

You shake your head. "Please, I just want to go home—”

"You want Batman instead?" He sounds choked. “You want Batman to come save you? Or Nightwing? Or Robin? You want a good guy?”

This feels like a trap. You know better than to fall into it. This is the Red Hood.

"No! No, I-I don't have any problem with you, Hood, really, I'm just—"

“It’s Jason!” he shouts. “You’ve known me for three years! Jason! You know me!”

The night is catching up to you; tears begin to spill from how overwhelmed you are. You wipe at your cheeks quickly, trying to calm down, but it's too much.

Jason creeps forward like he wants to touch you. You press against the wall without thinking about it.

“Fuck, you’re—you’re terrified of me,” he rasps. “You think I’m a monster.”

Your panic has reached a peak now; you lose track of time and space, hyperventilating through your cries. Jason shoves himself backwards, tearing a hand through his hair.

“I’m good, I’m a good guy. You know me, you know me. I would never hurt you!”

You could've died tonight. The Red Hood is Jason. The Red Hood is no hero.

You don’t look at him, curled up and cradling your ankle. You’re afraid you’ll get sick again if you open your eyes.

Then someone's hand holds your shoulder. You flinch hard, expecting cold, glowing eyes in a red helmet.

Instead, you see white lenses. Nightwing smiles sadly at you, squatting to your level.

"Hey, there," he says. “I’m—”

"Hood’s here," you blurt. "Watch your back."

Nightwing glances behind him; Jason is across the warehouse, as much distance between you as possible. He has his knees to his chest. The corpses lie between you. Your eyes widen and you turn into Nightwing’s shoulder. He rubs your back.

"It’s okay. I know him. He works with us a lot these days."

“I would never hurt you,” Jason says quietly, voice cracking. “Never.” He doesn’t try to approach you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

"Please don't make me go with him,” you whisper. “Please, please…”

It hurts to breathe. Nightwing puts your hand on his chest and tells you to follow his breathing. It lasts a lifetime, it seems: Nightwing crouched to your level, exaggerating his breaths until you're no longer gasping for air.

"Alright, it's alright. I'll take you home," he says. "It's okay. You're safe. I won’t make you go with him.”

Nightwing helps you stand, and when you stumble through your injured ankle, he catches you, bracing you with his arm around your back.

"Let's wrap your ankle first, okay?”

Nightwing guides you to a lone chair so he can tend to your injury. When you look up again, the Red Hood is gone.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #angst

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sundrop-writes · 7 months

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My Bleeding Heart

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary:

When Draco finds out that you are pregnant, he can't bring himself to be happy about the news because he doesn't want to bring a child into this wartorn world just to be another pawn in the Dark Lord's games. So, then and there, he makes a very important decision to risk everything in order to protect you and his future child.

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader. Arranged Marriage. Angst (with a Fluffy Ending). Set during Deathly Hallows.

Word Count: 3,400

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader is pregnant in this fic; this is set during Deathly Hallows and there are a lot of themes from that era - death, blood purity ideals, general violence, murder, mentions of Draco being tasked with killing Dumbledore; Draco and the reader live in an environment where they fear for their lives because they don't believe in Death Eater values completely and fear being killed for it; Draco and the reader are in an arranged marriage meant to carry on blood purity - but they have fallen in love in the marriage; the reader is a pureblood, but I have not mentioned her being related to any canon characters, so her appearance/race is not defined; general emotional angst - Draco fears for his own life, your life, and the fate of your unborn child if they are born into pureblood society; in the first half, there is some arguing/tension between Draco and the reader (but it's mostly due to the emotional tension of their situation); mentions of Dumbledore's death; non detailed mentions of sex (that's how we got the baby, duh) (sadly no smut); passing mention of abortion/pregnancy termination (they both want the child but fear for the child's safety in this environment); semi-graphic mentions of consensually inflicted injuries - Draco gets the reader to cut off the skin with his Dark Mark on it so that he can't be tracked or summoned with it; these warnings make it seem like a really dark fic but the ending is really fluffy I promise; toward the end, the reader and Draco have a toddler who refers to them as 'Mummy' and 'Daddy', and I think that is about it.

Author's Notes: The prompt of 'character finds out you are pregnant' was originally from the fluff prompts list, but because this is Draco, I couldn't help but to throw some angst in here. Because I imagine that if Draco was still living with his parents and surrounded by Death Eaters and the blood purity ideals, he would be very hesitant to want a child of his own because he wouldn't want a child to be tainted by all of it the way that he had been. Because at a certain point, the pride he felt turned sour. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy because this does get fluffy toward the end.

...

Terror.

That was the very first thing Draco could tangibly say that he was feeling.

The last two years of his life had been a sickening rollercoaster of utter chaos, and quite frankly, he had become numb to it all. He had to force himself to be numb, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived. And currently, survival was his only feasible goal. But this - this news touching his ears was one thing that woke up his senses from that numbness and sent him rocketing into the harshness of reality. This made him feel again, in the worst ways. Suddenly he was nauseous, shaking, blood rocketing against his ear drums, creating a harsh thumping in seconds.

He wished that he had heard you wrong.

“Are - are you sure?” He stuttered out, feeling his hands becoming exceptionally clammy as he clutched them around nothing, his feet unsteady on the ground.

You saw him becoming remarkably pale for someone who was already so papery toned on a normal day, and you worried that he was going to faint. You worried that his harsh reaction meant that he hated the idea of you being pregnant - that he was angry with you. Of course, you realised that the fault wasn’t all on you, that was just nature. But part of you thought that he put the onus on you to take care of birth control, using potions or spells, because he had been worried about so many other things since the start of your relationship.

Up until now, you weren’t sure if you wanted what they wanted. You weren’t naive enough to look beyond the reason you had married Draco in the first place. You were there to produce the next pureblood heir with him. Originally, you had thought it was romantic, in a sense. But when you had met Draco’s family, the people he was surrounded with, the people who called themselves Death Eaters - you realised that it most certainly wasn’t an ideal environment to bring a child into.

Killing at the drop of a hat, torturing, murdering the innocent - those weren’t ideals that you wanted your child to be brought up on.

“Draco, sit down, please,” You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to usher him toward one of the expensive chairs sitting in the corner of his room.

You had stolen him away for a rare moment of privacy between meetings and Death Eaters traipsing around the house. These days, his parents always demanded that the two of you make good on appearances because you were supposed to be the sweet young couple, the future of the pureblood line.

“Are you sure?” He whispered the question much more harshly, the words hissed through his lips like pure venom as he desperately waited for you to confirm it.

He let himself be guided by you and collapsed down into the chair, sitting with his head in his hands, ruffling up his usually neat, slicked-back hair with rough, stressful fingers through it.

Your stomach twisted with your own unique stress as you watched him. You hadn’t seen him so distraught since his first failed attempt on the mission he had been given last year.

“I’m sure.” You said. “I went to the apothecary and got one of the test potions-”

“A store bought test potion?” Draco hissed.

He gave you the harshest glare that you had ever seen from him, which was saying something considering the looks of pure disdain he had given you upon first meeting. His jaw was set so tightly that it looked as though his molars were going to crush in on themselves at any moment.

Your posture shrunk back, desperately trying to hide from his invasive stare. You wished that you could have burrowed under the floorboards at that point.

You knew that it was fear and panic about the situation at large, all the death you had been surrounded with compounding onto him. But you hated that he was inadvertently taking it out on you.

After a moment of you not speaking, Draco continued.

“I should have made it myself, if you had just told me-”

“Yes, and nobody would have become suspicious if you were mulling around, gathering the ingredients for a pregnancy test potion.” You snapped back.

Draco’s face grew even more sickly at this, and you knew that you were both silently on the same page - nobody else in the house could know that you were pregnant. If they even suspected it, then it was over.

He heaved a sigh, gathering all of his thoughts before he chose one to bring to open air.

“Were you seen?” He asked, still tearing into you indignantly, talking to you as though you were stupid.

“No.” You told him, entirely certain. “I wore a large cloak with a hood, it was dark. Nobody recognized me.”

He gave you a distinct frown that said he was unsure of the truth in your words, and you rushed to trample over his potential sarcastic remark with your own.

“I suppose they don’t recognize me when I’m not on your arm, anyway.”

You scoffed out the last part, talking about this fact with distaste even though in actuality it was something you loved. You felt safe when you were with Draco. You couldn’t imagine facing the scowling faces without his arm around you.

But you knew that’s all you were in this society - Draco’s wife. That’s all you had been labelled as since you had been shipped over from America by your godmother.

You were the last of your noble pureblood family’s line. Your parents had been killed by Aurors in the name of Voldemort’s cause during the first war. After their deaths, you had been sent to live with your godmother in America, never truly understanding how your parents were killed or why.

The whole reason you had met Draco in the first place - an arranged marriage. Something that would have honoured your parents, apparently.

The Malfoys had been looking for a pureblood match around Draco’s age, and they had once known your parents, and thought of you as a good prestigious pureblood girl to marry their son. It didn’t take them long to find you, even though you didn’t mingle in pureblood society like they did. (Something they found to be a big shame and a horror upon your parents’ memory.)

Your godmother sold you out for a ‘dowry’ of two thousand Galleons, and from there, your life became a living hell.

Strangely enough, Draco had been the one anchor keeping you alive in it.

Most would say that it was because he was kind by comparison, but truly - he was easy to fall in love with when he was compassionate, sweet, loving in the smallest ways that made you feel safe during some of the most hectic times of your life.

Draco had never intended to get attached to you.

But like anything in his life - pining for the crumbs of his father’s approval, digging under all the proprietary for a single genuine gesture of affection from his mother - Draco’s heart kept beating as much as he tried to turn it off. He convinced himself that he was solid stone, but apparently, you were the pickaxe that made him crumble to pieces. After meeting him, you burrowed through the layers of snide coldness and dark humour that he used in an effort to put you off and you found that still beating heart. That soft thing that he hated so much about himself.

You dug that heart out of his chest, and - despite his best efforts to fight you off, you nursed that heart back to health. And you gave him the closest thing he had experienced to ‘love’ in years.

On the day the two of you got married, when Dumbledore’s dead body was barely cold, Draco said his vows to you with nothing but honesty in his heart. And that night, he made love to you with intense passion, held you in his arms as though you might slip away if he didn’t grip onto you tight enough. And only after you had fallen asleep in his arms, was when he allowed himself to cry. Because he knew that they now had one more way to make him hurt if they wanted to. They could kill him, they could stop the breath in his lungs, but he would die a million deaths through you being hurt in the smallest of ways before that happened.

And now - with this utterly horrifying revelation, they had new ways to hurt him. He should have died a lone man. He should have let them kill him instead of agreeing to any of this in the first place. He shouldn’t have learned to love - he shouldn’t have grown these new limbs that they could cut off savagely and tear apart in front of him.

“I got another one.” You announced when the room had grown too quiet, silent tears streaming down Draco’s face as he sat in intense contemplation. “Another test potion. An extra. I figured you’d want to see it with your own eyes.”

Even though the two of you had only met two short years ago - you knew him too well. You knew that he would want visual confirmation before his own eyes.

“Get it. Please.” He said, trying his best not to let his throat drown in these tears. He wouldn’t be reduced to sobbing.

You went to your cloak, which was hung on a hook in an opposite corner of the room, and grabbed the potion vial out of your pocket. Your shoes clacking against the floor made a terribly hollow soundtrack to the whole thing as you ripped off the small tag that was tied to the neck of the potion bottle and handed it to Draco. He read the instructions on it while you uncorked the potion.

It was simple: you put some sample of your DNA in the bottle - a hair, a small bit of blood, something like that. And then if the potion changed colours to glow white, it meant that you were pregnant. If it made no change from its original, soupy grey colour - then you weren’t pregnant.

He watched, holding his breath as you plucked a single hair from your head and then dropped it into the now open top of the bottle. When the hair made contact with the liquid, it bubbled slightly as it dissolved. Then - after only a moment, the bottle began to shake roughly in your hand as it changed colour, and surely enough - it glowed brightly white.

You were definitely pregnant.

Draco’s nausea increased. And then - in a moment, he felt a fierce sense of protectiveness wash over him. It was as though he had been slapped sharply across the face, woken up from the blind numbness he had been feeling. He knew at that moment that he needed to take action. He couldn’t simply stand by and let things happen around him anymore. He could simply sit around hoping for safety, hoping for some miracle to save the two of you.

“Happy?” You scoffed.

You took Draco’s lack of words as a negative - a sign that he was certainly unhappy with the news.

Not that you were entirely thrilled under the present circumstances - you were scared, stressed, and hating it because you had always wanted children, but not like this.

You placed the potion down on the nearest table and stormed off to the bathroom attached to Draco’s bedroom. He chased you, catching the door before you could slam it closed and lock it.

You conceded to his movements quickly and simply turned to face the sink, unable to look at him right now. You turned it on, splashing cold water on your face, trying your best not to freak out because clearly he was already playing that role. He walked up behind you, gently pressing his body into yours. Even under these circumstances, you found his presence so comforting. You found his body behind you to be nothing but a wall of safety, and you couldn’t help but to lean back into him, your eyes still tightly closed.

Draco reached around you and gently pressed his hand into your stomach - you held back tears of your own now. Clearly, you were both thinking the same thing. Thinking of the unborn child that you both needed to protect. You placed your hand over his, seeking comfort in his touch as he flattened a palm across your stomach.

It was a world shattering revelation to know that his child was resting under his hand.

“No one can find out about this.” He muttered quietly into your neck.

It was something Draco dreaded - them finding out about your pregnancy.

This is what they had been waiting for. This was the reason for the marriage in the first place. This was the pureblood heir - this was their chess piece.

Draco wouldn’t let his child become another pawn in their games.

“It’s still early.” You choked out quietly. “There are other potions. We could-” You choked on your own words, unable to even speak it aloud.

Draco dug his fingers into the fabric of your shirt protectively, quite insulted at the insinuation.

“No.” He replied, his voice rough with anger. “Unless the idea of being pregnant with my child is so utterly horrible to you-”

“It’s not that!”

You screeched, forcefully turning in his arms, wanting to face him. He kept one hand on your hip, and moved the other up to gently grasp your cheek, thumbing away your tears as they gathered. It was that gentleness that always got you. His natural instinct to comfort you.You leaned into his touches as you continued.

“I want this baby more than anything. I - I’m just terrified they’ll see that as a weakness.”

You knew it was the truth. Especially when Draco’s sullen face confirmed it. In this circle, loving anything or anyone was a weakness that could be exploited.

Draco leaned in and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting the single, solitary moment of peace wash over you.

“I’ll protect you.” He declared, his voice whisper-quiet, but nearly broken with the intensity of his words. “Both of you.” He added this on as he brushed his palm over your stomach once again.

Again, you laid your hand over his, uttering quiet assurances of love toward your unborn child.

“Draco, how-?”

He didn’t let you finish the question.

“We’ll leave. We’re leaving. Tonight.” He declared firmly.

It was something you had suggested before - to protests from Draco, many scathing comments poking holes in your plans. His parents would be killed if he left. At this point, he had to surrender to the idea that they could take care of themselves - that they had made their bed and they had to lie in it. But now that he had the Dark Mark, they would be able to find him, wherever he went. But he would find some harsh way around that.

Now that he had so much more at stake, he couldn’t care if his parents died because of his actions. He had so much more that he had to protect.

“I’ll cut off my bloody arm if I have to.” Draco mumbled quietly, and then turned sharply from the bathroom, leaving to pack.

…

“Daddy, Mummy’s not being fair! She won’t let me play with the jellyfish!”

“Draco, can you please explain to your daughter that jellyfish are dangerous and she can’t play with them?” You replied, trying your best to haul your toddler away from the rough rocks at the water’s edge where the creature had washed up.

“Love, why don’t you come and play with your toys over here?” Draco posed, trying to draw her attention toward something else. She was much like himself as a child - determined, stubborn, and wouldn’t do anything unless she believed it was her own idea first. “Come and show Daddy how to build a sand castle, hmm?”

She seemed to perk up at this. She was clever, and over-eager to show off her skills. More than eager to show her father how to do something properly if she felt that he wasn’t doing it right. This happened with everything from the way he spread marmalade on his toast to the way he tied his shoes - something she had just learned how to do that she was eager to show off her expertise in.

As she tore out of your arms and trudged across the beach to scoop some sand into her bucket, Draco had to be thankful as he watched you follow slowly behind. Purely thankful of the fact that the biggest danger your daughter had to worry about was something like a stray jellyfish washed up on shore.

Three years after escaping a life of servitude toward the Dark Lord in England, you and Draco enjoyed a quiet life with your daughter Aster in France.

You sat down beside Draco with a huff, picking up the book you had previously been reading. You flashed him a grateful smile as he listened to Aster’s detailed instructions about how they should build their castle. He gave you a wide grin in return, and you felt your insides tingle. His smile used to be something as rare as a Basilisk, but now he wore it proudly and more often - he wore his happiness without restraint.

With the short-sleeved, light linen shirt that he had on for the beach, the scar on his forearm was fully visible. It reminded you of the brave choices he had made on that night three years ago.

You had convinced Draco not to cut off his arm completely, but the two of you knew that the Dark Mark needed to go. Otherwise, the two of you could never run far enough, you would have nowhere to hide. So now he sported a large scar where you had held him down and cut the skin off with a sharp knife. That night, his parents had found his room empty, save for the flap cut-off skin in the middle of his bloody bedroom floor. Luckily, you had a talent for healing spells and Draco had been able to knick a few good potions from his family’s cupboards before the two of you left.

On the outside, it was jagged and ugly. But when he looked at it, it reminded him of nothing but freedom - of the love you had committed to him that day, to your unborn daughter.

With a couple thousand Galleons in gold taken from his parents’ stash, the two of you started a new life. You were untraceable and happy. And though there was intense relief when you read in the papers that Potter had succeeded in defeating the Dark Lord and that meant the war was over - the two of you didn’t have any plans to go back to England anytime soon.

Not when your new life was this good.

“-and see, you need to dig down until you find the sand that’s wet, that makes a good castle-” Aster drawled on, piercing her toy shovel into the ground frantically as she spoke.

Draco nodded, giving her a smile as he followed her instructions. “Yes, yes. I see. Very smart girl.”

He had gotten the two of you away from that life, and not for a moment had your daughter ever known the kind of pain or fear that you had.

“Daddy’s learning a lot today, isn’t he?” You remarked, giving Draco a sly grin.

“Good thing I’ve got this smart girl here to teach me,” He said, leaning over and giving Aster a kiss on the forehead.

That was another thing that made you fall even deeper in love with him - the droves of affection he gave to his daughter. Now that he wasn’t being watched so closely, now that he wasn’t expected to be the picture perfect son, he could love her exactly how he wanted to. He didn’t have to worry about propriety or appearing weak.

Aster giggled at this, and Draco blew raspberries on her cheek before kissing her again. She then rallied Draco up to go to the shoreline for a bucket of water. As you watched them walk hand in hand, you felt your heart ache from how overwhelmingly full of love you were.

Somehow, you found yourself endlessly thankful for the rocky road of fate that had brought you here.

#sundrop writes #draco malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x y/n

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pixelmensupremacy · 1 year

Note

Can I request a Leon x reader for RE4 remake? :0

Reader is one of the missing hikers that was mentioned during the opening cutscene and managed to escape the villagers just as she runs into Leon on his way to the lake. Leon has her come with him, even reader helping him keep Ashley safe, and during the whole mission, they start to develop feelings and Leon gets more protective. Can even be suggestive- especially during the chained scene if you want. 😳

A/N: Since I got one more request about this scene specifically I'll do a part two with the smut

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of violence, fem!reader, not proofread

part 2

Darkness was all (Y/N) could see as she took cover in the cool, shadowy tunnel, using its gloomy nooks to hide from the locals, whose inhumane rage almost caused her horrific doom. Her entire body shook, her heart thumped loudly in her ears as the adrenaline in her veins was still in abnormal amounts. Images of what she saw haunted her and even now she was safe she trembled in fear as the awful memories resurfaced, making it even harder for them to catch her breath. Sounds of footsteps caught her attention; tears formed in the corners of her reddened eyes; her breath hitched. The sound grew louder and soon after she was able to make out the silhouette of a man; frozen in fear, (Y/N) couldn’t move as the man was slowly nearing her. Her (E/C) irises were glued on him so much so she didn’t notice her foot was poking out of the safety of the shadows.

Carefully, her gaze followed his movements; her fisted rolled, taking a hold of any object that was underneath her. Her poor heart was on the verge of exploding; her chest rose and fell in an unnaturally quick pace as her breathing grew shallow. A yelp ripped past her lips at the sudden force hitting her foot; a thud echoed on her right. Cold sweat broke out on her skin; her eyes widened in utter horror as she was faced with the man and more importantly the barrel of his gun. In that split moment she surrendered to her fate; and at this exact moment the thought of a quick painless death was a blessing in comparison to the horrors she witnessed in the cruel village, the screams of the poor police man will forever be imprinted in her conscience. Yet the freeing moment she expected never arrived and instead of the gun she saw an inviting hand once she peeled her eyes open.

“Are you hurt?” She barely made out the words, for her anxiety driven mind was far too hazy for her to comprehend.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Her voice was quiet, her glassy eyes bore into his; his heart clenched, a smear of guilt weaved in his features.

Shouts anchored the attention of the two; dozens of villagers lurked about the end of the tunnel, the lights of their torches threw light on the barricade the two were hidden behind. Chills ran down her spine at the sound of sickles and hatches flying by her, she wasn’t ready to go through this, not again.

“You’ll have the time to thank me later.” The mysterious man took a hold of her hand and dragged her in the opposite direction.

“So, what brings you here?” (Y/N) spoke up breaking the unnerving silence.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He answered not even turning around to face her; she let out a deep sigh.

“Okay let me guess.” She tapped her chin, stimulating her logical thinking. “You definitely aren’t here on a vacation, judging by your… gear.” She paused as she observed the arsenal of weapons resting right on his back.

“Go on.” His foot stomped on a wooden box, demolishing it with just the force of his limb; impressed by his strength, (Y/N) fell silent as she looked at him with awe.

“Now’s my turn.” He turned around, finally facing her after the frenzy of running from villagers the two had gone through. “You’re a hiker, who got lost and now you’re here.” She was at loss of words, yet the puzzled, hurt look on her face didn’t fail to reflect the state of her heart.

“Are you a clairvoyant or what.” The mysterious man chuckled before e knelt down to pick up a box of what looked to be ammunition; the muscles of his back and shoulders flexed as he then stood up, the leather of his fingerless gloves tightened around his fist.

“Can I at least know the name of the guy that saved my ass.” She asked, in attempt to distract herself from the newfound subject of her interest. He turned to face her; the sunrays highlighted his features that she hasn’t had the time, nor opportunity to observe. His hair was a beautiful blond color, the strands of which appeared gold under the light of the setting sun; his jaw and cheekbones were defined and smooth as if he wasn’t a human being but rather a marble sculpture, carved by the most skillful of craftsmen. The irises of his eyes were a mixture of different cobalt blue hues each prettier than the previous, every shade made for a whirl of unreadable emotions that were contained deep within him, enhancing the intensity and mystery to him.

“Leon Kennedy.” Immediately, her attention was anchored to his full, silky-smooth lips and to the Adam’s apple that bobbed up and down as he spoke. “It’s rude to not introduce yourself, you know?” He looked her up and down, his gaze both judgmental and intrigued.

“It’s (Y/N).” Her gaze shied away from his prying one that ironically also drew her in with a strong invisible force.

“Okay, (Y/N) you’re gonna have to stick to me if you wanna make it through.” She nodded, not paying much attention to the words he spoke as she noted how her name sounded when he said it. She was screwed.

Together they explored their surroundings; before them there was a heavily damaged house, behind it’s gaping hole was another one that was intact. Driven by her intuition, she pointe the house to Leon and so they headed to it. The space was plain and fairly minimalistic with just a few pieces of furniture lying around, the color scheme of the room though was even more poor that the interior itself. Dust particles flew in the air as the slowly fell and clung to any surface that was already covered in thick layer of debris and filth. Continuing her venture inside, (Y/N) heard a strange sound; investigating it’s source she came along a darkened, narrow corridor above which was a ticking bomb. Immediately, she called out for Leon, who safely detonated it. Weirdly enough, the bomb wasn’t her found, for she noticed a ladder leading to what appeared to be basement.

“I’ll go check it out. You stay here.” Leon was quick to move past her, preventing her from entering the gaping dark opening.

“Are you out of your mind? I’m not staying alone.” She protested; her arms crossed in front of her chest as she struck him with a stern look.

“Sure.” He sighed in defeat, he had no time for arguing. “Ladies first.” He jokingly pointed to the entrance; hesitantly, she gazed at the hole and then at Leon. The corners of his lips curled ever so slightly.

“Just as I thought.” He said before he jumped. Shocked, (Y/N) screamed his name only to be hear his chuckle- the one she couldn’t get enough of despite having only heard it only twice. She cursed as she got down after him; the lighthearted mood soon evaporated as they noticed a suspicious looking sack. Leon pointed his flashlight at the object and knelt before it; a piercing scream resonated from behind him. Swinging his gun in the air, he saw her trapped in the grasp of an atrociously tall man, dressed in black from head to toe. With no hesitation, the agent fired at the man, yet he seemed unphased; a powerful force hit him, causing him to fly across the room. Slowly, blackness took over his hazy vision as a sudden warmth embraced his head; (Y/N)’s screams of horror echoed in his head.

#resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon x you #request

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the-kr8tor · 2 months

Text

Stem the Tide

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, TW blood, CW injury, TW death, CW vomit mention.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 8 >>> CHAPTER 9

There's water in your lungs.

Hobie's injuries scream at him to stop swimming, but he doesn't, not until he swims you to safety. He has you placed on a piece of the revenge, a shattered part of it, all splintered wood and sharp edges that dig into his skin.

The storm has subsided, the sea monsters went back into the water, the thought should ease him but he'd rather have the beasts within eyesight if possible. The sky is still dark and blue, the sun is just about waking up to the carnage floating on the depths.

His other half is paddling away from the trenches where the creatures could lie in wait. Eyes gradually searching for his crew but his main priority is you. You who haven't opened your eyes, you who haven't breathed nor moved. He worries, grief calling for him once again.

The fear of losing you is the only thing keeping him moving.

His arms ache as he tries to restart your heart. Pounding and pushing into your chest, doing his best not to crack any of your ribs. Chapped lips breathing life into you, inflating your lungs, chest heaving up but you don't expel the water. He ignores the freezing water; it's almost as cold as your skin, still it burns him with every touch he gives you.

You haven't breathed on your own for a long while.

He curses himself, wishes that he got to you faster but with all the jaws coming towards him he had to dodge in the water and with all the strong currents he let you drown. Fuck, why wasn't I fast enough? He thinks, guilt chewing him.

“C’mon, Scuttlebutt. Fuckin' breathe.”

Hobie sees land ahead so he paddles faster.

He sucks in air, then blows into your icy mouth. Pumping and pushing, his muscles are threatening to give out.

“Not you,” tears brimming in his eyes, the sun peeks in the horizon, illuminating your lifeless face. “Please, not you too.”

A large wave almost sweeps the two of you off the raft, he protects you with his own battered body. The wave helped, the makeshift raft beaching on the sandy shores of the unknown island.

He pounds his palms continuously on your chest. Thump, thump, thump. The sound echoes in his ears like death knells.

Nothing.

Your lips are turning an unnatural shade. He doesn't focus on it, instead Hobie leans in, breathing into you once again, moving his head down, he listens intently for a sign of your heart beating.

He can't even hear a faint beating.

“Fuck!” He continues the cycle, palms compressing on your chest, mouth giving you air straight from within him. “Open your goddamn eyes!”

Hobie yells your name, full of anguish and denial. He won't give up because if it was you in his shoes, you wouldn't have.

His sobs wracked his body, yet he does it again and again and again. He can't even look at your face anymore because if he fails, he doesn't want to remember your lifeless face, instead he'd want to remember you smiling, smiling at his crew, smiling at whatever joke Pav said, smiling at him.

He'll do anything to see it again. The crew can't lose you.

He can't lose you,

“No!” In his desperation, he hammers his fist harshly on your chest.

Nothing.

He does it again. Thrashing and drumming.

Nothing.

Hobie closes his eyes, leaning down to breathe life into you one last time. He's tired, too tired to continue. Lips lingering on yours, he holds onto you tight, refusing to let go.

You wake up to lips pressing on yours and salty water rising quickly from your lungs.

Gasping and coughing, you feel calloused fingers push your body to the side as you vomit out all the water. Eyes stinging, hands digging into the sand.

You hear relieved laughter behind you, hand gripping to your shoulder, the other rubbing gently on your back.

Spitting the last salty water out of your body, you fall back on the wooden raft, eyes adjusting to the sunlight. Hobie greets you with a tired smile, fatigued yet he still finds it in himself to grin from ear to ear.

The sun blankets behind him, bathing him in its light, piercings shining, and like fate's practical joke, there's a halo behind his head.

“Please don't tell me we both died and now we both ended up in the same place.” You joke with a hoarse voice. Tongue still tasting salt. “I can barely handle you while alive and now I have to be with you even in death?”

He laughs, the sound louder than the waves on the shore. “That's the first thing you say after almost dying? Miles is right, you use humour as a crutch.” with a shaking hand, he cups your cheek, laying his forehead against your own, resisting the urge to lay his head above your chest to listen to your heartbeat, just to make sure he isn't hallucinating.

You exhale against his face, breath fanning his eyelashes, it's enough proof that death has decided to give him reprieve.

“We're not dead?” You close your eyes, savoring his presence. Hands clasped around his wrist, feeling for his pulse.

He's not dead.

“No,” he leans away, relief under his sigh. “We're alive.”

You chuckle, ghosting your thumb across the gashes on his cheek. “You did good.”

Hobie shakes his head with a smile, rolling on his back, he falls on the sand softly, arms spread out. The once white sand turns into a shade of pink under him, reminding you of his injuries.

“I did good.” Eyes closed, hand reaching towards your side, he grasps your blouse in his palm like you'd fade away if he lets go of you for even a second. The cloth is warm on his skin, realizing that you're injured.

Your cough and groan was enough to ignite his adrenaline once again.

With a hand, you stop him from moving frantically. You inhale a sharp breath, “We need a fire going.” Sitting up on your own, shivering from the cold. He observes with his hands hovering over you.

“Alright, just stay here, I'll light it.”

“No, let me help.” Your wheezing says otherwise.

Hobie grasps your chin, lifting it to face him. Your skin is on fire, he smiles at life coming back to your body. “You drowned,” he doesn't want to say the other word or it might come true. “I think that trumps over a couple of stab wounds.”

“A couple?!” You blink in surprise. “Hobie—”

“Just a few slashes. Stay here, don't cause trouble, trouble. Captain's orders.”

“You're so fucking annoying.” You flop down on the raft, gripping your weeping wound, teeth chattering.

“You could say ‘thank you’ for once.” he teases in an attempt to bring back normalcy. Staring at your sand crusted hair, seafoam draped around you, he's glad he didn't give up in saving you just for him to get a glimpse of this view.

You stare at him through wet lashes, a small pout on your warming lips. “I'm losing blood, captain.”

The simple sentence gets him to clamp up, face suddenly serious.

“Bring me a coconut!” You yell, pout replaced with a small smile. You hide your wincing with a bite of your lip, drawing blood. Looking at him upside down, he has his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

“You're insufferable.” He quotes you before immediately jogging over towards the tropical forest behind you.

“And I, you.” You whisper into nothingness, touching your lips with the pads of your fingers.

—

The fire cackles next to you, the flames dance in your vision just like the fire that devoured the revenge. Smoke fills your lungs again, you cover your nose with your arm, eyes closed, trying to forget what happened. What you did.

Hobie holds a circular pendant tied to a stick, the metal glows red hot, the engraving of a wave twirls as he moves it closer to you.

You clutch the back of your head, it still stings when you press down, at least you're not freezing and wet anymore thanks to the fire next to you.

“How do I do this?” He asks, eyes flicking to your pained face.

“Just place the metal on top of my wound for a few seconds then take it off immediately. I don't want a piece of metal in me.” Your voice is muffled by your arm.

“Show me.”

Lifting up your blouse, you hiss, fabric sticking to the angry wound, revealing where the bullet pierced you. “He nicked me so there's no bullet to take out.”

“Less work for us then. Ready?”

“Yes, just use the plain side. I don't want it to leave a mark.”

“Bad news, scuttlebutt. It'll leave a mark.”

“Not what I meant. The wave, I don't want it to leave a shape.”

“I know.” Without warning, he places the bare side of the pendant on your wound. Skin sizzling, you bite into your arm, yells tamped down. Other hand gripping into his elbow. It's an unimaginable pain, you can't believe Hobie survived through two of these.

He flings it away, careful not to add to your pain. “You alright?”

You heave, a tear escaping from your eye. “I guess I deserved that.” Looking at him through half lidded eyes, he gives you a weak smile.

“You would've flinched.”

“You're right, I would've flinched. At least I'm honest about it.” You let the air kiss your searing skin. Letting your head fall on the tree trunk behind you, He watches you like you're already dead. “It was a joke, Hobie—”

“What happened to you? Below deck?” He shakes his head, glaring at your neck. You instinctively hide it under your hand, it's still tender to the touch.

“Had a run in with a very bad man. I got him though…” you nudge him with your foot. “I'm—” you can't find the right words. “I'm sorry about the ship, I had to defend myself, I didn't know the fire would—”

“The ship was already gone the moment Mathias found us.” Those grey eyes look at you intensely, remnants of the storm still leave traces behind them. “Don't apologize, you got him, that's all that matters.”

“I burned him alive, Hobie.” You blurt it out, confessing your sins. “I shot a man. I–I don't…It matters that I did that.”

He sits closer, leaving the searing metal next to him on the fire. Holding your knee, he tentatively touches your hand before he reaches for it fully. Skin meeting skin, hand holding yours, the same grey eyes soften for you.

“Let it matter then. But don't let it in, don't let them try to kill you a second time. Bury their bodies if you have to but don't mourn them.”

“Can we do that? Bury them? Not metaphorically, even without the bodies.”

“Yes, if you want to. I'll help you dig.”

You nod, gliding your thumb along the ridges of his hand. After a beat, you swallow a lump in your dry throat. “I can still hear his screams.” avoiding his eyes, you look down at the grains of sand, your tears leave patches of darker soil in its wake.

Hobie squeezes your hand. “I'll quiet it down for you.”

“How?” you look at him, eyes questioning, eyes weeping.

“I'll talk over it, make you listen to something else other than the screaming.”

You give him a tight lipped smile, forced, tears threatening to fall. You can't ignore their faces anymore. “Finn, Ned and—”

“We'll bury them too, and we'll mourn them. They deserve that much.”

“They deserve more, Hobie. Much more.” he pulls you in, seeking comfort from each other. Arms enveloping you. You let him take you in, his scent replacing the smoke clinging to your lungs.

“They do,” Mindful of each other's injuries, you lay your head on his uninjured shoulder, face buried on the crook of his neck. He does the same, nose kissing your skin. “they deserve better.”

He finds that his arms are molded to fit you.

“The others? Do you know they're alright?”

“I saw them escape, that's all I know.” You lean away, looking at him with worry. “We'll find them, but knowing Gwen they'll find us first, yeah?” he cups your jaw. “We'll get out of here, I promise.”

“I'll hold you to that.” You nod, leaving his warmth, back landing on the wood, letting yourself fall back to your old ways.

Hobie still has his hands shaped to fit you. “We have to survive first.” He taps your shoe. “Do mine next.” He lifts up his shirt, showing you all the angry gashes like a prized trophy. “Then our scars will truly match.”

—

Shoes discarded on the sand, you wade through the seafoam with Hobie. The sun glares, puffy clouds shielding you from the heat. A breeze passes by, seagulls squawk above.

“We could eat those.” He pipes up, kicking something under the sand.

“The sand?”

“The birds, thought you were supposed to be the smart one.” Leaning down, he grabs something red buried in the sand. “Help me with this.”

You stretch your shoulders, careful of your own injuries. Copying his stance, you both pull. “How do we even catch one?”

“Pistol, a spear or a trap.” He does all the work of pulling while you're still aching. His injuries still hurt but he'd rather do all the work than let you strain yourself. “Trust me, after eating fish for three days straight, you'd beg for something else to eat.”

“You think we'll be stuck here for three days?” you tug in sync, pulling it with all your strength.

“Maybe more—” he scoffs, finally hauling the fabric out. “It's our sail. Bloody hilarious.” the crimson lay half buried in the sand, tattered.

Ned would hate seeing it like this.

You trace the stitching around the edges, remembering how his expert hands once weaved around it.

“Oi” he brushes his knuckles on your hand to get your attention. You feel his broken skin briefly. “We could use this as our roof.”

“Mm-hmm, you do that and I'll continue searching around the shore. Maybe my satchel got washed up too” you let go of the cloth, already walking away.

“Nah, I'll come with.” He bunches up the sail in his arms, drowning his entire body in red.

Crimson like the eyes of the beast.

You shake your head, giving him a faint smile. “We can't stay together the entire time we're here. We'd drive each other crazy.”

Hobie catches up to you, wide strides and long legs sauntering over to your side. “Good thing I'm already bonkers.” he passes by you, looking over his shoulders to see your wide eyes looking at him. “Hurry up before the sun sets.”

You shake your head, jogging to walk by his side. “I bet in three days we'd start killing each other.”

He snorts. “I beg to differ.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

After a minute of walking along the beach, you find a washed up crate. Hobie opens it with the butt of his gun, punching a hole straight through. You pray that it's medical supplies or at least food.

He laughs, clutching his side, leaning on the box. Beckoning your confused self, he drapes his arm around your shoulder, showing you the contents.

You blink confused at the brown bricks. “Is this tea?”

He continues to chuckle like he heard an inside joke that you're not privy to. Taking one in his hand, he weighs it, surprised that it wasn't damaged by the sea water, he thanks whoever packed it well.

Opening the packaging, he brings it close to your nose. “Here.”

You flinch back, burnt skin tugging on your side. “What the hell! I'm not smelling that!”

He laughs louder, you wonder if his injuries ache too. “Just smell it and tell me what you think it is.”

“No! What if it's solid shit?”

“It's not! Solid shit? Really?” His broken lips hurt as he smiles wider. “Do you not trust me?”

You suck in your teeth, “fine, if this is shit I'm drowning myself.” With apprehension, you lean forward to sniff. “Is that?” You sniff again, this time with a laugh. “Holy shit!”

“It's bloody chocolate.” You grab his hand, smelling the sweet treat. “Guess you got your wish. An entire crate of ‘em too.”

“I can't fucking believe that it hasn't melted yet!” He hands you the entire bar and you grin. You both guessed that one of the navy ships was carrying it. “We only need a crate full of alcohol and we're good.”

Hobie clasps your arm, “We can stay here forever if we do find one.”

“Fuck off.” You say in between laughs. “I'm not staying here forever—” your smile falters, fear enters your body.

“What?” He turns around, following your line of sight.

A body, there's a body washed up on the shore. It's draped in a blue uniform and seaweed, seagulls land near it, tentatively pecking.

“Stay here.” He murmurs, draping the sail on top of the crate. You grasp his hand before he leaves your side. “Y/N, stay here.”

“No, what if he's still alive?” you hold on to him tighter.

He nods, eyes roaming your tensed face, your shoulders are straight, eyes staying on the body. “Alright, but walk behind me, yeah?”

You nod.

With every step, your fear encapsulates you further down to your feet, the warmth on your soles keeps you alert. Yet, your hand stays on the cold hilt of your dagger.

Hobie kicks the corpse, it stays unmoving. A group of crabs start to scavenge the body, pinching and taking skin.

“He's dead. No need to worry.” He looks at you over his shoulder, glancing at your tight grip on the dagger.

“What if we're not the only ones here?” your breath shudders at the thought.

“I'll sweep the island—”

“We'll sweep the island.”

He doesn't protest, knowing you won't take no for an answer. “Fine, just—” grabbing your hands, he fixes your hold on the dagger, guiding your fingers around the hilt. You freeze on the spot. “There, better.” He tugs at the weapon, it doesn't budge in your hold. “Now they can't take it from you. Don't let them take it away from you.”

“I won't, I promise.”

—

The island is small, smaller than you thought it would be. Green foliage and tropical trees cover half of the island. Dry leaves crunch under your foot, critters slither and chatter under the tall grass, making you conscious of where you land your feet. The rays of the sun peek behind the tree tops. Exotic sounding birds sing above the branches, their rainbow feathers fly overhead, leaving a breeze to flutter against your cheeks.

You almost run into Hobie when he stops abruptly. He whistles out, reaching blindly behind him to grasp your hand.

“Come on.”

Surprisingly enough, you don't let go, locking your fingers around his, letting the warmth course through your skin.

You hear rushing water.

“We're fuckin' lucky.” He pauses, watching you peek from behind to see what's in front.

You're in awe at the small waterfall, misty water cascading like unfurled silk; it splashes cool water down into a plunge pool. Before you know it, Hobie's stripping down to his knickers.

“Woah! A bit of a warning!” You cover your eyes quickly.

He hoots before you hear a loud splash.

Hobie calls your name, you can hear his smile from how he utters it.

“It's fresh water! We can drink this!” He yells over the sound of the waterfall.

“I'm not drinking your bath water!” You still avoid him, glancing all over the place except for where he swims.

“The water isn't stagnant! It's clean! Come over here!”

“No!”

“I'm not fuckin' naked, Y/N! Just fuckin' come here.”

With a stomp of your foot and a click of your tongue, you glance at him, avoiding staring at his bottom half.

“Someone else could still be here, Hobie and you're relaxing!”

“No one's here, trust me. We've swept the entire place, there's no one here. Jus’ us” He floats and you immediately look away. Laughing, he lets the water wash over him.

“Well I'm glad you're having fun!” You say sarcastically. “But I'll walk around so you don't get stabbed in the water.”

“I can finally teach you how to swim! Get in!” He teases, knowing you won't actually swim with him while he's practically in his birthday suit.

“Nope!” You walk away but still staying close to him. “Maybe when you're not naked I'll reconsider!”

“Suit yourself! Wait!” You pause, “Stay close, yeah?”

Nodding, you wave with the dagger.

You walk around the area, avoiding colorful flowers that you're too afraid to touch. Hands grazing the top of the tall grass, you gasp when a familiar plant catches your sight.

“What?!” You hear Hobie shout, “you alright?!”

“I'm fine!” You yell back. “Keep floating like a turd!”

He laughs, a second later you hear splashing.

—

You sit on the banks of the pool, tired muscles sagging into the dirt, your pockets are full of medicinal herbs. You're just glad you found the right plants that can help to stave off infection. If only you had a mortar and pestle then it'll help with digesting the bitterness better.

Drawing swirling patterns on the dirt with your dagger, you don't look at him, only flicking your eyes to see if he hasn't drowned from napping in the water. He floats aimlessly, skin glistening under the sun, toned chest and scars in full display. You huff, moving your eyes away from his body. Yet your mind wonders where he got them, it's better to think about it than letting your mind wander back to what happened on the revenge and your almost death.

The slight sting of your injuries helps keep you awake at least.

“You hungry?” You almost jump when he suddenly appears on the edge of the pool, arms tucked under his chin, grey eyes looking expectantly at you.

“A little. You?”

“Starving. We're gonna need to make a shelter soon.” Hobie twists in place, head resting on the ground, face staring up at the afternoon sky.

You scooch closer, he smiles when your upside down face fills his vision. “Do you know where we are?”

“No, I'm guessing we're in one of the thousand islands. We were near it when we—Just be glad that we didn't land on a cannibal island.”

“There's no such thing.” He reaches up, wiping the sweat off your brow. “Right?” you almost lean into his touch.

“We got attacked by a bloody sea monster, ‘m sure there's an island somewhere with cannibals.”

“True.” You shrug, trying not to remember what the beasts look like or even sound like. “Did you piss your pants too when they came up from the water?” Teasing, you fall into relaxation with him.

“No, I shat myself.” You laugh loudly. Hobie thinks he has the best seat in the house. “Can't fuckin' believe they're real.” He can't believe you're real.

“Still feels like a dream. Someone has to know those things exist.” The sun illuminates the side of your face, lighting up your features. He can't help but reach up again with the same excuse to wipe your face. “Thanks, I'm sweating a lot.”

“Really? I haven't noticed.” You roll your eyes. “Maybe if you take a dip then—”

“Nope.” To his dismay, you move away from his view. “Come on, fishman, we need to get started on shelter.”

“I just said that.” He stands up, groaning along the way, you look away. “and really? Fishman? That the best you can do, stinky?”

“Stinky?” You cross your arms on your chest, hearing clothes shuffle behind you. “What are you five?”

“Could say the same thing to you,” his face suddenly appears on your shoulder. You yelp, groaning comically, briskly walking away in annoyance. “Wrong way, scuttlebutt.”

You turn heel, trudging in a different direction while he chuckles.

—

Standing in knee deep sea water, the sun beaming down, soft sand under your toes and your stomach growling to be fed, you stand near Hobie whose trousers are folded up to his knees. The water laps at your legs, warm enough to be comfortable but cool enough to keep you in the water. Tiny fish weave around your legs, their fins brushing your skin.

“There!” you point too fast that you pull a muscle but you pay it no mind when Hobie misses the fish again with his makeshift spear.

“Fuck!” The spear is sticking out of the sand, Hobie who is equally starving kicks the water, it splashes all over your blouse.

Great, you're hungry and wet.

You huff loudly, frustrated like the man next to you. “I'm hungry.”

“I know.” He says flatly. Taking out the spear, he aims again.

The fish wiggle in the water like it's mocking Hobie.

“Maybe we can survive eating chocolates and coconut for the rest of our days?” You wipe the sweat off the back of your neck. “Or I can start catching some crabs.”

“Fuck this!” He yells, drawing his gun, he shoots at the fish, the bullet hits the water like a tiny cannonball, splashing you again.

It's a bullseye.

You scream when he grabs the still bleeding fish. Hobie smiles wildly, yelling triumphantly.

You both jump up and down in the water giddily.

—

The fire roars in front of you, your dinner needs some seasoning but it's better than sleeping hungry with only chocolate to fill your stomach. Times like this you miss Finn's cooking, and him.

Hobie looks at you through the fire, he's thinking of the same thing. Wishing that he wasn't.

“What kind of fish is this?” you break the quiet to stop your thoughts.

“The edible kind.”

“You have no idea do you?” Narrowing your eyes at him, you scoff.

“Fuck if I know.” Hobie shrugs, scrunching his nose.

“You're a pirate.” You stop chewing.

“Yes and? I'm not a bloody fisherman.”

“I thought you'd know, because you're in the sea most of the time.”

“Fishing was James’ job not mine.”

“Kinda wishing James was here then.” You murmur but he still hears.

“Give me your bloody fish, you ungrateful bastard.” he reaches towards you and in turn you pull your fish away from him.

“No!” he chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head before silence drapes over the peace you've both created.

You keep munching on the plain mystery fish. Hobie was kind enough to catch (shoot) another fish so you don't have to share one. It's flaky in your hands, now you smell like sweat, blood and fish. The greatest smell combination in the world.

You chew, “I need new clothes.” and a bath but you'll never admit it to Hobie.

“That bloke has some,” he points with his chin at the dead body, laying further at the beach.

“Ew, I'd rather stay in these.” You grimace, looking down at the tattered and singed cloth that's holding on to its last leg.

“I don't mind that, I can actually see your elbows from here.” he smirks, trying to look flirty but with him chomping on a fish head it ended up looking more hilarious than cute.

“My elbows? Oh you pervert.” Yet there's heat behind your cheeks even when his own cheek is covered in fish scales. “Should we bury him?” you change the subject.

“We should or it'll stink,” he flicks his grey eyes at you, the simple act wakes up the butterflies in your stomach, or maybe that's the fish. “like you.”

“I don't stink” a lie of course.

Hobie laughs into his half eaten fish. “I can smell you from here.”

“No you don't, that's the fish!”

“What's the difference?”

You flick a fin at him, it hits him on his head, sticking to his hair. Laughing, you take another bite, something hard almost breaks your tooth. You stop giggling, spitting out a round metallic thing.

Realization hits you, Hobie peeks at your hand,

His sudden loud guffaw makes you throw the bullet at him. He dodges it, still laughing hard and with a fish fin stuck to his hair.

“This is why fishermen don't shoot at fish!” You end up cackling too, finding his laughter contagious. “I almost bit into it!”

He guffaws louder, hiding his face and you get a full view of the fin on his hair. You shake your head, standing up to sit next to his shaking form.

“Stop moving! Let me get that thing off.” You grab it, throwing it into the fire.

His laughter subsides, staring at you with those stormy eyes. He sniffs, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for you to say something that could hurt or for him to say something that would make you leave. But you don't and he stays silent. Just reveling in each other's presence.

You read his expression, his lips still hidden under his hand but his eyes say everything. You don't want to ruin the night but you have to tell him or it'll eat at you, not letting you sleep and you ending up looking at him with pity and grief. You don't want that, you want to continue to look at him like you've recently found out from Miles, with reverence and fondness that's out of your reach.

“I'm sorry.” Your words don't hurt him but your expression brings a pang in his heart. “About…everything.”

“‘s not your fault.” Grief knocks on his door and he refuses to answer. “Nothin' to be sorry about.”

“Feels like it is.”

“You're not the one who killed them.” Grief tries to barge in on him, he blocks the door, still refusing to let it in. “There's nothin' to forgive.”

“Still, I'd like to apologize. They were good men.” Against your own better judgment, you take his hand, he doesn't flinch away, even twisting his hand to hold yours properly.

“Do you want to say goodbye? To them?” he murmurs like he isn't sure of it himself.

Hobie refuses to let it in, not again, not in front of you.

“Yes, but we'll do it once you're ready.” You whisper to him like the world could hear his secret.

Hobie sighs. Heart aching, he doesn't want to say goodbye, if it was up to him he'd never—

“Hobie?” You call his name softly, “If you need help with silencing the screams,” a shaky breath escapes you. “I'm here.”

He frowns, seeing her face and not yours for a brief second. Changing tune, he takes his hand away. “Thanks.” It's your turn to frown.

You inhale, “I'll go grab us some water for uh cleaning our wounds. I'll clean them before bed.” Walking away, you leave him alone with his thoughts, he hopes you turn back around, but you don't.

—

Hobie takes first watch, torso exposed to the sea wind, letting it calm the searing pain of his injuries. He observes for any boats or ships on the horizon, even hoping for a box full of medical supplies to wash ashore.

He rubs his heavy eyes, it's supposed to be your turn but he lets you sleep in, after everything he'd let you rest as long as you need to. Looking over his shoulder, the simple act makes him wince. He stares at your sleeping face, calm and angelic under the warmth of the fire, and he can't help but feel jealous. You're situated under the shabby shelter, protected by the red sail that's fluttering in the breeze. Foot twitching, you scrunch up your nose in your sleep,

Chuckling, he turns back around to face the beach.

There's still nothing but seagulls flying above the water and crabs digging into the sand.

Yawning, he shakes his head wildly to keep awake. So he decides to walk around the beach, stretching his throbbing muscles.

As Hobie kicks the sand between his toes, he finds himself standing next to the navy man's corpse. He stares at the lifeless eyes, lips blue, skin so pale it blends in with the sand. The crabs still eat the remains, pinching and taking bits. He scoffs, knuckles shaking, nails leaving crescent shapes on his palms.

He doesn't deserve to be buried, Hobie thinks. And he definitely doesn't need her pity. So he takes the man's legs, slowly dragging it down to the shore until it floats. The rush of waves wakes him up, cold water dousing his lower half. Hobie pushes it away roughly, letting the tides take it, letting the sea claim it like it has claimed his friends.

He watches it slowly drift away, yet his anger doesn't subside. The fire in him is still burning ever brighter. He mentally promises the crew he lost that he'll avenge them. That he'll get Mathias, even if it kills him.

Your screams bring him back to reality. Bolting away, wading through the water, the sand hinders his sprinting, he quickly runs to your side.

“Oi, oi!” Hobie watches your terrified face morph into relief when you see him. “What's wrong? Crab in your knickers?” He stops his joking when tears slide to your cheeks, your entire body is shaking. His chest heaves at your sobbing. Voice cracking when he utters your name, Hobie lets you breathe, holding on to your shoulders firmly.

You stare at him through the tears. “I–I dreamt that you left me here.” His façade breaks into two. “And I w–woke up and you weren't here. I thought—”

“I would never. I won't leave.” You continue to weep so he holds you, not to make you stop but to help steady you through it. He'd hold onto you every minute of every day if he has to.

It's frightening how well you two fit together, limbs tangled around one another. Like a pair of wings, one cannot fly without the other. And that terrifies you through the embrace.

“I'm s-sorry, I really thought.” You find your place atop his chest, face buried on his skin, his scars kissing your cheeks. Hands gripping to the small of his back, your nails almost digging.

“‘m here, ’m not leaving you, promise.” Hobie intends to keep it, not for your sake but for his.

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byhees · 1 year

Text

hold me close.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 1200 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship petnames nightmares crying — more

a/n. revamped version ><

heeseung

the highlight of every passing night would, easily, have to be being nestled comfortably in his arms, a soothing hum wafting through the air; it’s so, so comforting— with every breath being heaved in the silence, a sense of safety just fills your heart.

your face being smooshed against his chest, your fingers tracing small hearts and shapes on the fabric of his shirt, leaving light traces in their path, his warm breath lightly fanning the top of your head.

it’s the perfect way to unwind after a long day— in his loving arms; him humming the chorus of your favourite song, his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close; and although you’re actively fighting the urge to fall into a trance of deep slumber, everything just seems so serene.

jongseong

laying in bed with him, and staying up till the late hours of the day; it’s quiet, with the occasional chirp of cicadas, the light revving of cars by the window, the soft thumping of his heart that’s emphasised from the proximity

him nuzzling closer to you, not wanting the night to come to an end; with your eyes gradually fluttering close, body being on the verge of succumbing to the calls of sleep, the idea of slipping into dreamland seems, all the more, plausible. it’s out of a sudden that a ticklish sensation courses throughout your body, prompting you to retract your neck— it’s shortly followed by a soft ‘mwah’.

him pulling you towards his embrace, your bodies pressed snugly together as he leaves a trail of pecks from your shoulder to your neck; lightly swatting his arm as giggles fall from your lips, his own laughs resounding by your ear.

jaeyun

him being a human heater; gusts of cold air prickling the hairs of your skin, eliciting harsh goosebumps along your arm, the blanket wrapped around your body serving little to no protection.

would jump into the duvet without a second of hesitation, coddling you in his own bubble of warmth; “gosh.. you didn’t tell me it was this bad… you’re looking like a smurf, baby”, and the halfhearted glare you send towards his direction, paired with the slight pout of your lips, prompts him to bite back a little giggle.

would wrap his arms around your build, scooping you up in a tight cuddle; the warmth emanating from his body, paired with his pretty grin, are more than enough to soothe the chill; rest assured, he’d make up for the little comment with tons of hugs and kisses.

sunghoon

him being your company during the nights; he always finds a way to bring serenity back to the room— it could be through his little lullabies, his whispered jokes that are so corny, they’re actually funny, or even his soft giggles.

it’s pretty— how he always manages to make you feel at peace, even when the external environment says otherwise; on the occasion where your neighbours decide to throw a party, their music blasting and piercing through the still air, he’d be there, no matter what, to lull you to sleep.

would clamber onto the bed, laying himself close to your body, his arm outstretched to wrap around your waist; would gingerly snake a hand over to your ear, his palm laying flat on it in an attempt to drown out the music; “fret not, love, for your knight in shining pyjamas is here”, he’d mumble, a reassuring smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

seonwoo

him taking care of you when you’re feeling under the weather; always being there to extend his help— for instance, dabbing a moist face-towel on your face, ensuring that you feel comfortable, or bringing your antibiotics and a glass of water, for you.

one particular gesture that has your heart thumping would be, when he initiates cuddles to alleviate the discomfort and pain; him wrapping his arms around you, his face lightly nuzzled in the crook of your neck; “make sure you get well soon, okay..? it hurts me to see you like this”, he’d mumble into your neck, his fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the material of your shirt.

sitting by the edge of the bed, his back leaning against the headboard; he’d intertwine fingers with you, resting your interlocked hands on his thigh; “maybe a kiss will make it better?” he’d ask, thumb lightly caressing the back of your hand. “you’ll get sick if you kiss me”, and he only responds with a small smile, “that’s okay, i’ll survive”.

jungwon

him being there to comfort you after a bad day; sitting close to one another, his fingers fiddling with your own, little shapes being traced on your arm; always listens to your rambles, stories, rants, with such attentiveness.

cuddles that are so tender, you simply just melt in his arms, all your concerns and problems blurring and slipping from your lips in jumbled up words.

him tugging the blanket close to your side, an arm of his draped over your body; planting sweet goodnight kisses all over your face; his fingers lightly carding through your hair, your bodies lying close to one another.

riki

him consoling you from nightmares, completely disregarding his exhaustion to ensure that you’re all alright; him wiping the tears away with such a gentle touch; his hand cupping your face afterwards, the softest of gazes resting on your features.

would whisper sweet reassurances, fingertips lightly caressing the swell of your cheek; “it’s okay, love.. i’m here”, and he wouldn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug, your face buried in his chest.

stays up until he’s rest assured that you’ve fallen asleep yourself; drifts off to his own slumber with arms still wrapped around your waist.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

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multifandomfix · 3 months

Text

A Protective Hand — Helmut Zemo

Summary: While at an underground party gathering intel about the Flagsmashers with Zemo, he gets a little more protective than is necessary.

Word Count: 777

Warnings: Zemo calls reader his wife

The pulsating beat of electronic music reverberated through the air as you and Zemo seamlessly blended your way into the eclectic crowd. The atmosphere buzzed with the frantic energy of the underground club, but you were there for one purpose — gathering crucial intel on the elusive Flagsmashers.

Zemo, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, moved with grace and confidence —if perhaps a few awkward dance moves— a stark contrast to the raw and chaotic surroundings. His sharp eyes constantly scanned the room, assessing potential threats and gauging the reactions of those around you. As you navigated the crowded space, Zemo's presence felt both reassuring and slightly unnerving.

The intel you sought was rumored to be within the grasp of the party's attendees, many of whom were connected to the shadowy world of the Flagsmashers. Zemo's contacts had led you to this underground gathering, where secrets were exchanged amidst the thumping bass and dimly lit corners.

You and Zemo played your roles seamlessly, undercover operatives seeking information, disguising your true purpose with laughter and casual conversation. The dynamic between you and Zemo, however, took an unexpected turn when he subtly, yet unmistakably, became more protective.

It started with a subtle touch. A guiding hand on the small of your back, perhaps meant to be an innocently protective gesture as you weaved through the dance floor. Zemo's watchful eyes never strayed far from you, his awareness heightened as he assessed every face in the crowd. The intensity of his gaze, at times, felt like a shield guarding you from unseen threats.

As you engaged in conversations with potential sources, Zemo's protective instincts became more apparent. He positioned himself strategically, subtly creating a barrier between you and the rest of the party. His actions spoke louder than any words could. It was a silent declaration of his commitment to ensuring your safety in this dangerous game of espionage.

In one corner of the dimly lit venue, you found yourself engaged in a conversation with a seemingly unassuming partygoer who might have ties to the Flagsmashers. Zemo, ever watchful, stood nearby, his cold, calculating gaze never leaving the interaction. The air crackled with tension as Zemo's demeanor shifted, his protective instincts reaching a new level.

As the conversation progressed, the partygoer's tone grew more assertive, and Zemo's patience wore thin. Without a word, he stepped forward, a silent warning in his eyes. The partygoer, sensing the shift, excused themselves, leaving you alone with Zemo.

"You're attracting the wrong kind of attention," Zemo remarked, his voice low and authoritative. His protective demeanor, while slightly overbearing, carried a genuine concern for your well being. You wanted to be mad, but you truly hadn’t been making any progress with the stranger, so it’s not as if he’d disrupted the mission at hand.

The dance floor pulsed with the rhythm of the music, and Zemo's grip on the situation tightened. With a subtle nod, he guided you toward a quieter corner, away from prying eyes.

"Caution is paramount in these situations," Zemo reminded. His words were unnecessary, as you already knew them to be true, but they also held a note of genuine worry. "The Flagsmashers are not to be underestimated."

You nodded in understanding, knowing this was neither the time nor the place to fight him on the issue. Besides, you appreciated Zemo's commitment to the mission and, oddly enough, to your safety. As the night progressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that Zemo's protective instincts had forged an unspoken connection between you, transcending the confines of the mission.

Finally, you gained some intel in an overheard conversation on the dance floor. Yet, when you made to leave and reunite with Zemo to fill him in, there was one man that would not let you escape so easily. He’d grabbed your wrist and tugged you back. A noise of surprise escaped you and your eyes immediately darted back and forth, searching for Zemo. You knew he wouldn’t be far.

And he wasn’t. You no sooner turned around and there he stood. “I ask that you release your hand from my wife,” he stated. Your brain short circuited. His what? But the threat worked and the hand immediately left your person.

Suddenly, you regained your wits and played along. “Thank you, Helmut,” you replied, making sure your voice was sweet as sugar. You took a step closer to him and he followed your lead, putting his arm around you. You looked at him adoringly, which you found wasn’t all that difficult. Finally, the man left, and Zemo walked you out, keeping you close. You’d done well and you couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure

Helmut Zemo: @unexpected-character, @lilyontheloose, @puppy-coded, @marinarashakeyobooty, @og-kxsh-420, @becomingthedreamversionofme, @music-bird, @chaotic-mushroomz, @mbruben-stein, @sunflowergurlsposts, @danimorgan1708, @jkthighs, @onlykeres, @floresferae, @stressydepressyandlemonzesty, @multifandomlover01, @tokyo-liv, @geekyandgay98, @sweetyprincesschaos, @yetanotherattemptatanaccount, @lady-darkswan3, @an0nimowe, @postcardgirl425, @garlicbreadrry, @bestfriend491, @il0vebeingdelulu

#helmut zemo #helmut zemo one shot #helmut zemo x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel #marvel one shot #mcu #mcu one shot #request #send requests #requests open

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 4 months

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Jasper taking gn! reader out on a nature walk

Since this request isn't too detailed I'm just gonna do this as a hc <:

Jasper Taking You On a Nature Walk HC

Pairing: Jasper Hale/Whitlock x Human!GN!Reader

Warnings: mc much prefers to be inside, me personally i like a nice hike, though i get hives if it's too hot 😬, vampires have to miss walking in daylight tho, and since jasper is a former southern cowboy i bet he misses the warmth of it

Jasper taking his human partner on a nature walk

At first you grumble, wanting nothing more than to spend the day inside. You hated outside activities anyway. You and nature just didn't agree with one another

But he promises you it'll be fun. You haven't gone on one of his nature walks. It sounds promising so you easily relent, surprised by his odd request. He never asked of these kinds of things from you. He liked that you didn't like going out in public and preferred his/his family's company. It worked out for everyone. If he was going out of his way to ask this, then it was probably important to him.

Jasper keeps in mind your humanness and though Forks doesn't get a lot of sun, he's still worried about you receiving a sunburn. He lovingly slathers your face and arms in sunscreen.

As he recommended, you found your comfiest pair of shoes and threw on breathable shorts paired with a tank top.

"I promise you, you're going to have fun." He kisses the tip of your nose which still had a smear of sunscreen that hadn't quite been absorbed by your skin.

Thankfully his home was surrounded by a lush forrest ringing around the house so going to an actual trail wasn't a necessity. No witnesses to his prismatic skin. No extra worries to be added on this excursion.

You're not accustomed to the buzzing sound of bugs or the bumpy earth that was riddled with the crawling roots of trees that rise from above the dirt.

You weren't clumsy, not like Edward's human girl but you didn't possess very good balance. Jasper kept a guiding hand on your arm to make sure you didn't fall. You didn't anticipate how this nature walk was turning into an interesting girl scout lesson. He bends down to show you animal tracks that you hadn't even noticed prior. Shows you how moss only grows on the north facing side of a tree and how that can benefit you if you ever get lost.

"Do you plan on deserting me here?" You ask halfheartedly but Jasper solemnly looks at you with sad eyes that catch you by surprise.

"One day you may not have me close to you. You may have to rely on the safety of the forest to protect you." He murmurs.

What made up for the boring parts of the nature walk was spying the various wild life that cautiously poke their head out from their hiding places. Squirrels and wild rabbits darted in the opposite direction if you and Jasper got too close to their home.

Eventually you start to relax in the quietness of your walk. Jasper watches you with butterflies thumping along in his stomach as you gather wild flowers; commenting how Esme would love them. The position you're at allows specks of sunlight highlight your lovely features. He's reminded constantly how much he adores you. The others in his family didn't really appreciate walks like this. Couldn't fathom why Jasper enjoyed going out even though there was a risk of someone seeing him.

But he saw the world outside their house a miracle by nature's design. Even more so now that you were out there with him, taking in the glory of living things.

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale fanfic #jasper whitlock fanfiction #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper hale x fanfiction #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper whitlock fanfic #twilight fandom #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight

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esteljune · 5 months

Text

Some Legion arm headcanons - {P x reader}

The legion arm is Pinocchio's dominant limb. Although he uses his right hand to use the sword, as the legion is already a weapon itself, he often prefers to use his left.

The sensation of a warm and soft body under steel fingers is as curious as it is strangely attractive to him.

So it's no wonder he prefers to tangle his mechanical fingers in your hair or brush his steel fingertips across your face. Always with extreme care as your thin and deciduous figure is highly fragile in his eyes compared to that eternal body of his.

The same goes for your heartbeat. As his humanity increases, Pinocchio will ask you to place his left hand on your chest to feel the faint pulsations under the cold palm.

In moments of action he is not always able to measure the strength with which he uses the legion so he will not want you to be close to him or to touch him like at the Hotel. However, when you are next to him, the tension and slight contractions that animate the legion arm in battle visibly attenuate.

As for his heart, Pinocchio considers it a very exposed part of himself as it makes him distant from the human being and very different from you. So in the moments you stretch out your fingers to affectionately reach the mechanical arm he will feel vulnerable, exposed.

If you gently clasp your fingers between his and come close to his chest you will most likely hear his heart thumping in a confused screeching and turning of gears.

Given the strength he has in that limb, he will use it to protect you at any cost, even that of his own safety. If necessary, as happened when he found you in Krat, he will lift you bodily without batting an eyelid to take you to a safe place.

This is what I'm doing atm instead of working. But I really need to write this all out of my mind.

#lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p #pinocchio x reader #p x reader #lop #my writing #pinocchio #lies of p headcanon #lies of p headcanons

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drenix004 · 5 months

Text

𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐘━━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 141

❝𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲︙She was an odd one, as was her obsession with daisies. But, that made her unique in the eyes of the herd… she became the treasure of TF 141.

warnings: mention of alcohol, drugs, death, obsession, among others, if you are not comfortable, don't read it !

rating: 18+

pairings: Task Force 141, Köning y Horangi x Oc female.

Summary: the hunt for jewels had begun, so Laswell decides to pass her off as a human and send her to the British military base under the command of a colleague, all this without him knowing her true identity to protect her (sorry, I don't know how to summarize).

¡English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes, don’t hesitate to correct me.!

wattapad -> here

●❯────────────────❮●

His footsteps echoed through the gray tiled hallways, he ignored whoever greeted him for wanting to get to the office where the woman works.

She even earned strange looks for not returning greetings as this was unusual for her.

Behind her came someone on her heels, also needing to get to the same office for the same reason she did.

He did get looked at with contempt and hatred for his nature, after all he was not human and those who were not, ended up being marginalized, despised or hated in whatever facility they went to.

She arrived at the woman's office and entered without warning, being followed by the man.

-Tell me it's not true, Laswell," she said as she set the letter, which she had crumpled in her hands on the way there, down on the table with a thump - "all that thinking for missions made you crazy?

The short-haired woman looked at her before answering after a sigh left her lips.

-The base in that place needs medical help, and you have it, besides, you are also a second lieutenant , you have combat training," she answered, "you are qualified for the transfer.

-Do you really think so? You are not only transferring me to the medical bay, you are also transferring their team, and alone," replied the woman, disgusted by the situation, "they are a gang, they will see me as an intruder, in the worst case scenario they could attack me. I'm a damned prey, I'm a human.

Laswell raised one of his eyebrows as he listened to her, glanced at the man next to her, who remained silent, before reconnecting gazes.

-We both know better than that, Harper. Nothing's going to happen to you over there, let alone with the team. Price knows how to control his boys, they're not monsters like the rest of them make them out to be, you have my word-when she wanted to protest, he stopped her-there are rumors that they're starting with the jewel hunt… again.

Harper froze in place, trying to process the last words.

-Hadn't that already been listed as a crime?" the man asked at last, as he placed his hands on his companion and made her sit down.

-That's not stopping them, there are more reports of disappearances-Laswell looked at the woman, who felt dejected by the new information-that's also why I sent you there, you'll be safer than here-he grabbed her hands and squeezed them carefully-this I'm telling you as a friend, I don't want anything to happen to you.

She sighed before nodding, if it was for her safety she would do it.

-Why can't Kamli come? He's my spirit familiar," the man squeezed her shoulders in comfort.

-I need him here, his ability to hide in the shadows can help me find information. We have to make sure there are no rats.

-She looked at her spirit familiar, kamli nodded determinedly.

Yes, as long as I'm connected to you I can visit you at night and re-establish the connection so it doesn't weaken.

-You see it's no problem? It will all be temporary, unless you tamper with the pack-Laswell smiled-and I'll reinforce the magic of the collar so nothing happens, just don't go near the water.

-Ugh, damn Banshee. You always get away with it-Harper held out the necklace with a daisy-shaped crystal charm he had to Laswell.

-This is the best Banshee you'll ever meet in your life," the short-haired woman floated the necklace and filled the flower with her magic, "That will do, you leave tonight.

-I won't even have time to pack everything-Harper sighed as he put the necklace back on.

-Kamli can help you later," she said simply.

-Witch.

-always-Laswell smiled at her before returning to his report, he had to finish it by today-closing it carefully.

-I heard you," Kamli helped her to stop and they both left the office, completely ignoring the woman's inner prayers that everything would go smoothly and without mishap.

That the dark forces would protect and take care of the little flower she had for a friend.

chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...coming soon

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dimepdf · 9 months

Text

★ 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. crowded in a full club with a crowd of familiar faces, the last person you wanted to ever see again was your ex. Luckily, Eren swoops to safety, wanting to keep your mood high and wants to save the night by taking a more direct approach.

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭notes. this took way too long to write, good lord I was struggling to choose if I wanted to write a jungkook fanfic or this,, the brain rot is getting bad ya'll pray for me to unclench that seven days a week song from my hands | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭length. 3.5k (27 min read) .

THE MUSIC THUMPED through the planked floors of the room to the vibrate of the bottom of your chunky heels. Dim, low, orange lights outlined the many figures that were scattered around the condensed club that had a known wait line outside that was close to wrapping around the building and down the rest of the block.

Luckily, your name was printed in bold black at the top of the exclusive people list, one of the many perks of being friends with your friend Connie, who somehow managed to be the owner of the most infamous bar in the city.

Dragging your friend group out for the stress free weekend, wanting nothing more but to get drunk under someone else’s tab.

After the pretty rough recent breakup you had with your sistutionship that Mikasa and Sasha were just so tired of hearing you mope about through the many group chat messages and facetime calls they had to endure with you yapping about another guy from Tinder ghosting you.

The offer of filling your poor little heartbroken spirit with many many free shots was enough to get your ass off your couch and squeezed into an old cute red mini dress that hugged your curves just a little too much that if you stared for just a bit too long you would see the slight outline of the cute lace matching set under.

Especially where it stopped at the mid peak of your thighs, the material plumping out around the tight hem giving you a very attractive and alluring sight for anyone that so happened to trail their eyes down your adorned figure.

In short, you were prepared to take it all off at the end of the night, and by God’s will, you hoped to end up in your birthday suit, tangled up with some handsome suitor willing to fuck away all the pent-up fustration that your blessed rose touch failed to reach under the blankets.

Eren, to no one's surprise, hadn’t gotten the same idea, the timid soul drawing something close to his normal casual attire did not really know what was club appropriate, no matter how many times your friend group would drag him along on a night out just to drink the boy out of his shell.

Tonight, surprisingly, he was the only one in the friend group chat to give a hurried response to your nighting invitation, watching from your palm-resting chin as he babysat his second drink.

Letting out a covered chuckle at every grimace that would twist on his lips that you couldn't tell was because of the sip of alcohol or the fact that he was buzzing with anxiety, refusing to leave your sight.

The music in the dimly lit open room thumped through the floorboards, the air wafting with desperate cheap cologne and hard bar liquor. You had to admit that seeing him glued to his spot beside the bar was a bit funny.

Avoiding any lick of interaction with anyone as his sight would dip whenever anyone would push through near him, the way his shoulder stood up tense as his hand clutched his drink to the long line of girls that would stumble up to him as if he were their lighthouse beacon, their exchange awkward as Eren would often play the same "I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the music card." just to shoo them away nervously back to the dancefloor.

You couldn't blame the ladies for at least giving it a try; you could admit that Eren did look good, especially under the club's light. The leanness of his sleeper build made the fill out of his dark brown button-up shirt alluring with the aid of the peek of his slightly muscled arms.

His shoulder-length shaggy dark brunette hair tugged lazily into a half ponytail, leaving wisps of hair from his face-framing bangs, made him look as if he had walked straight out of some male model ad, from the fashion to the accidental aloof attitude that he naturally radiated.

Relaxing some of the tensation from his shoulders, Eren’s lips parted with a slight sigh before nervously fiddling with the rolled up cuffs of his shirt, his eyes easing from his lap to sneak a quick glance at you, almost flinching out of his poor skin when he had met your rested glance.

His eyes widened a bit in surprise, his tongue poking from his parted mouth almost as if his thoughts had interrupted him from speaking before your eyes could track down the slight bob of his adams apple. "I don't—I don’t think I got to tell you yet, but you look really gorgeous tonight, I like your…hair." His tone held a bit of a tremble, the stutter in his voice was the realization that he had to speak a bit louder of the music even with you sitting on the stool right beside him.

You were definitely a little caught off guard, Eren wasn't the type to suddenly dish out compliments, let alone notice the fine details about someone’s appearance to save his life. You could recall the times Connie would make it a game to see how long Eren would go until he would realize the change in his appearance.

"Hm, you don't think it's too much?" You asked, leaning in a bit into his personal space and keeping a level tone as you spoke into the direction of his ear, pretending like you had seen Eren react in a tense fluster, his fingers tensely gripping his cup with your sudden proximity. "I mean, with the color and all." Your lips curve into a slight charmed smile, finger caught twirled around a newly dyed dark auburn curl, watching the coil spring back into place with a tug.

Eren's gray eyes followed the swipe of your finger as you moved away from his personal space and rested your back against the bar stool. It looked as though Eren was being drawn in by your actions.

The interaction consists of him merely nodding his head and remarking, "Well, I like the color, I think it suits you." The conversation did not lead anywhere else as your attention had shifted once more towards the dancing crowd, scanning the mingling group of people until your heart skipped a beat at the sight of a certain person in particular that stood a few feet away.

Your sudden switch to having a discomforting mood had not gone unnoticed, Eren’s head turned at the slightest frown of your brows, scanning over the open crowd with no avail to what had soured your mood so quickly. "Hey, what happened?" Your trance not budging at the sound of his question, your attention tugging onto whatever you were across the room glaring at.

It was only when the brush of his palm caressed against your lower thigh that his fingers danced warmly against the exposed leg of your skin, despite the soothing cold sensation welcomed from the silver rings that had adorned his fingers fashionably, his touch being enough to stir you away had you finally looked at him.

"You okay?" A static-like shock trail ran through your nerves, not only from his hand placement but also from the way he had somehow zoned you into feeling like you two had been the only two people in the room just by the way he was looking at you.

The lighting was deemed dangerous, with your brain buzzing from how well it had sculpted Eren’s features, from his defined cheekbones to the alluring yet genuine and compassionate dark glint in his eyes.

You had swallowed before remembering how to speak, praying that the way his eyes traced over the nervous habit you had of biting the skin at your lower lip was all just in your fucked-up horny mind.

That would be the only way you could have been thinking about Eren in such a risque way. "No, no, it's just my ex is here." Not even enough in you anymore to sigh, you couldn't turn your head before Eren could scoot you close in within his presence by the grasp he had on the underside of the stool you sat perched on. "Sorry, it just kind of caught me off guard, I guess."

Eren’s attention was completely devoted to you, his eyes carefully watching every twist and turn of your expressions, zoned in completely on your mood as it drained into something sour and insecure. You tried to keep up the front that you were trying to force out that you were having a good time—anything to help pry your ex’s eyes away from you as he seemed to be drifting closer and closer towards you as the night continued to painfully slowly unfold.

"Hey," you flinch as Eren laces his fingers between yours, this thumb rubbing comforting circles against your knuckles. "Sorry, what do you want to do? Wanna get out of here?" he asks, with his eyes searching to latch onto anything that would express how you felt.

"Um, yeah, I think I've had enough for tonight," you admit, holding your breath at the way Eren’s hand slid from your thigh to your lower back as you rose from your seat. His dark eyes traced over your stiff movements carefully, eyes flickering nervously over the allure of your attractive curves, especially how dangerous they looked squeezed into your dress.

"I want to—" You watched him wince, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before looking back at you with a shy glance, almost as if he had to bite his tongue and start over to stop himself from saying something. "Did you want to come back to mine?"

★ . . . !

Time had to be an illusion. Eren didn't care too much about religion, but he was convinced that maybe he was just dead and this was him experiencing his own personal depiction of heaven.

From the whirlwind of events that began with him boldly inviting you back to his apartment, to the length of the very flushing conversation the two of you had on the car ride back, to the two of you laying limbs tangled against his mattress, everything about the way the night had unfolded seemed like something straight from one of his wet dreams.

Eren even let a few stray tears spill past his thick, wet lashes from how touch-deprived you reminded him he was as he trembled in response to your lewd touch. Each stroke of your soft palm against the shaft of his dick entices an embarrassing, needy whine from his throat as his hips fuck against your slow, teasing hold.

The lights from the flat-screen TV that was mounted at the front of his bed illuminated as the show played. While the unattended lights from the show, which had been long ignored, only helped define the gleaming beauty of your features and sparkling dress.

In spite of the wicked work that your left fist was carrying out, he thought that you looked undoubtedly angelic. Eren was also convinced that he was going through some kind of brain rot with his badly clouded thoughts from how the only thing that could slip past his lips was the desperate, choked whimpers of your name.

A light strawberry flush spread from the bite of his cheeks to the trail of his heaving chest. Eren was too tied into the bubbling effects of pleasure, causing his nerves to melt under the touch of your palm. His own fist gripped, white-knuckled, into the pillow resting under his head. As his other hand grasped less tightly, his fingers wrapped fully around the wrist of your hand, which continued to pump his cock at a steady pace.

Even with his jittering nerves, he could still feel the sparkling, sticky gloss of your trial of nibbling kisses stick to the soft skin of his neck. Your lips ghost close to the shell of his earlobe, sending a welcomed sensation up his arched spine. "You have to talk to me, Eren. Tell me what you feel, honey."

Overwhelmed with just so many new sensations, Eren felt like he was just close to sobbing from how good he felt from the pleasure. You couldn't help but wait for his answer with a very self-satisfied smirk as he gasped at the kiss you placed right under his ear.

"It feel–" he swallowed back the words he struggled to choke on, "it feels really good, please." He hadn't even known what he was begging for, from just your touch. He had melted into a mumbling, brainless, shuddering puddle of nothing with each kiss and sleek stroke.

"Hm, Does it now?" You were practically torturing the poor man, knowing exactly what you were doing when you talked to him in that sultry, flirty tone of yours. Rising from his side to sit perched with your knees pressed into the blanket of his soft duvet. Eren stared up at you as if he were entranced by your every move, his adam's apple bobbing with a thick swallow as your thick lips curled into an even more flattering, sweet smile.

His cock ached over the loss of your touch, as if it weren't enough that you left him breathless, you had to muster the nerve to undress in front of him.

Sliding the straps of your dress over your shoulders and reaching behind you to unzip yourself loose, his eyes refused to leave yours as you yanked yourself out of the fabric with a kick, revealing the drooling sight of the hidden dark maroon matching set that had been tucked away underneath. Simply saying, "Come here." was enough to get him to crawl over to you.

Reaching out with an unsteady hand, his eyes glued to your chest, he sighs at just how perfectly your tits sit before placing his hands against them and gently fondling you, despite the pained look screwed on his face that you couldn't help but to bite back a chuckle at.

You had to admit that you found him very attractive—the sight of his pale, slender fingers dancing against your warm brown skin. Even with a layer of lace in the way, the feeling between your thighs still grew more agnited with the brush of his silver rings fumbling clumsily over your budding dark nipples.

Letting an encouraging moan part from your lips, Eren hadn't even gotten enough time to breathe in his new-found sense of appraisal, as the movement of your own hands unbuttoning the rest of his shirt left him feeling under your control once more.

Opening his shirt with a bit of an inpatient tug, you apologized, "Sorry, you just have too many clothes on." It was a soft moment that both of you got to chuckle over as you helped him shoulder out of his button shirt as well as the muscle tee he wore under it with a shared giggle to ease back the tenseness.

"You should lay back," you said, running your fingers down his naked chest. Eren has just the right amount of muscle, his skin torso bundling with a lean peak of a six pack, almost as if he had accidentally gotten a ripped figure without even really trying. His greenish flag was just how damn attractive he managed to be, yet how unbelievably unaware he was of his own insufferable good looks.

“Wait." Eren sighs, his fingers instead threading themselves in between your wandering hand, just inches away from brushing against his very clear erection.

"Just give me—give me a second, please?" struggle to find the correct words, cursing the hard task of speaking, especially as all you did was watch the form of his lips with every word. Eren was surprised that he could even steady his breathing enough with how obviously you sat back and watched him catch his breath with that pretty smirk on your mouth that he wanted so badly to kiss, but he knew it would only rile him up more.

After his small recoup of mercy, you helped him out of the rest of his jailing clothes. Only peppering around his face with quick kisses, knowing how sensitive Eren truly was, even as he squirmed around the feeling of your hand's gentle touch, putting his length into a condom, with his head tilted back and his eyes screwed shut.

You were truly surprised to see firsthand how touched and starved the man was. As you positioned his length near your entrance and slowly sheathed down on his cock, his hands were uncertain as to whether they wanted to hug around your hips or fondle with your tits.

The sensation takes a minute of stillness and shifting for not just Eren to get used to, not surprised on your part by your months of dry spell suddenly being broken with a bigger than average-length bulge while resting itself inside of you.

Every squirming inch of him inside is rudely rubbing against your warm walls as Eren's hands dig into the plush skin of your waist as if it were any more possible to hug the curve of your ass down against him. Feeling the tense muscles of his raised thighs against the brush of your behind, you both just needed a moment of relative stillness to allow your bodies to become more politely accustomed to the new sensation.

"Tell me when it gets too much." You let out a sigh as you gazed in awe at the man below you, Eren's hips shifting up at the hush warning in response. As you lifted yourself up with your hands resting to steady yourself against his torso. Leaning in closer towards him to get a better look at his glossy eyes, they mirrored the expression of awe that was on your face, and they continued to do so even as you sank back down onto his length.

Your pace would grow more excited, fueled by the punched-out groans of pleasure that would tumble from Eren's throat at the sensation of your pussy engulfing his cock completely. He hadn't bothered to cover his mouth, and with each shift of your hips, a string of whines would follow as he would praise your name as if he were mumbling a prayer.

The bedstrings of his mattress, accompanying the grunt of his lewd moans. Repeatedly, your hips would slam against his, aiding in the tense curl of his toes and the dizzy feeling he would get from throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut so tightly he was starting to see stars.

His hands held a death grip against your shifting waist, holding onto you as you tortured him at the unforgiving, grinding pace at which you bounced on his lap. "I— I can't, please, oh fuck—uh god." Eren would plead with you as if your entire world were in your hands. "I can't—I need to, please." Riddled with so much emotional desperation, and yet the last thing you wanted to do was hand him an orgasm so easily, the aroused part of you clenched at the sound of his begging.

"Just let it go, Ren." You sigh into his ear, gasping at the way his hips bucked into you in response. He was definitely working to do so, the slight switch of your control not flattering his pure sexual need as he squirmed all he could to chase after the slow grind of your hips.

His body begged him to keep going, the need to want to drag it out as long as he could to stretch the knot as far as it would be possible let him not want the moment to end laying under your touch. Fueled by the sheer absolute pleasure that washed over him the moment he felt your lips part tongue poke out to suck under the sensitive spot under his ear, a melted expression stretched on his bitten sore lips as his hips buck under you.

You hadn't bothered to give him any more mercy than what you had already graced upon him. Every twitch and tremble felt beneath the warmth of your skin as you returned to your hips and began to meet Eren’s thrust, his moans sounding almost close to poetic. With overly drawn-out vowels and pitched whines, it brought you both to sheer intimate ecstasy.

It took a few sighs and some soothing touches to replace the hard press of his nails digging into the hips of your flesh. Even sharing a small kiss was maybe crossing a few boundaries, but both of you were too fucked out to care for the moment. After a few tosses and turns, Eren dragged the blankets to cover the both of you, kissing your bare shoulder blade as you crawled to lay down tucked under his arm.

"Do you…do you want to stay over?" It was hard for Eren to search for the right words to say, especially with his inability to even breathe correctly. He copied the way your chest rose and fell, knowing you could hear every thump and bump of his heart beating from his chest.

"I’d like that," you lean up to say, showing off that pretty smile that had him so entangled in the first place.

"If that's okay with you?" Eren didn’t mind one bit, snuggling the girl right in front of him closer to his chest with contentment.

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#eren yeager #eren jeager #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #aot smut

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razzledazzledo · 25 days

Text

HELL AIN’T A BAD PLACE TO BE - PART ONE

CultLeader!Geto x Non-Sorcerer!Reader

This is my first fic, holy smokes! It's a bit shite, but I wanted to have a crack at some writing again (with added art made by yours truly!) I've got a number of chapters in the making, and I will continue to pump out the arty farty stuff too. There will eventually be sm*t so 18+ ONLY

Word count: 2k

Contents: angst to ? ;), enemies to ? ;)), geto being an ASS, reader taking it like a CHAMP, deffo no lovin' in this one (or the next few chapters most likely), introductions to the story premise, rusty writing and art lol, may be some inconsistencies in story compared to canon timeline

Warnings: depictions of violence, s*icide and d*ath, Geto's choice of words when describing non-sorcerers (monkey)

MDNI

The trickle of blood from the gripping of your palms makes this a reality - this was not a dream, rather a nightmare that you are unfortunate enough to call reality. The flesh of your inner cheek between your teeth keeps you somewhat grounded as you observe your surroundings. Thumping rings in your ears as you stand motionless on the exterior steps of his territory.

It appears that you have arrived at the gates of Hell.

Eyes trail you, as you trail them back, head unmoving as you do so. Keep your cool. They’re watching you - the followers - and intensely at that. You're sure you heard a snicker too. Fantastic.

You avert your eyes back to what's in front of you as you stiffly take the stairs up, ignoring the glares of others. A cobbled pathway appears that leads to his chambers, or rather, your eventual prison.

Breathe.

It could be worse - well actually this is pretty terrible - but reminding yourself of that may have a placebo effect, which you could use to calm yourself down right now.

You were cursed, but not in the literal sense (unfortunately. At least that would have been a more sane reason to be here than what you’re really here for). It's a sick joke - the first non-sorcerer to be born in your family of sorcerers, and you’re the one to appease him of all people? Yeah, this is terrible. The placebo effect isn’t working.

You have been assigned to that man for protection, so long as he receives funding from your family. It’s a liability that you are unable to use sorcery, thus to protect the family from potential dangers or threats, you stand in this disastrous position. They call it an agreement for the sake of your safety, you call it a public execution. You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of the situation, but you hold out on losing your sanity for a while longer - clutching onto whatever shred of dignity you have left.

It's not even the fear of him that has you wavering. It's the uncertainty of what is to come, the unknown. It’s frightening to the point you have to force a cough out to gain control of the trembling. You’re having to prove yourself more than you ever have by walking into this territory and surviving. You’re used to it - being tossed aside, looked down upon. ‘No cursed energy, and you cannot even see them so what use is there for you?’ It's been a consistent reminder etched into your life. Regardless of the obvious restrictions, you continued to fight and train. But it was never enough, and it never will be. To them, and most certainly to him, you are worthless.

Breathe.

The aroma of bamboo on the sliding door brings you back to reality as you lean on it, palm sweatily resting on the latch. This is it. You squint your eyes shut, pull the door aside, and walk inside, and you can feel it: his aura. It is suffocating, like a thick sludge clogging your airflow and poisoning you in the process. It accelerates your flight response, but you know better: running was never an option. You open your eyes and focus on the floor before tentatively bringing your head up, only to be locked in his sight. Suguru Geto, one of the most feared curse users, is standing in the same room as you.

Passing comments throughout the years provided some insight into the monster in front of you; growing up in a sorcerer household exposed you to the world of curses in a way that few others of your kind had. You knew two things for certain: his cursed technique and his unfathomable hatred for non-sorcerers. It was not unusual to hear about his crimes, which instilled fear throughout Japan. He was cold, calculated, and meticulous with his leadership. Despite this, he was strong, arguably one of the strongest, and having his insurance would ensure your family's protection - you, however, disagree greatly to that perspective.

His gaze penetrates your soul; it's terrifying how unclear his expression is as you stare back silently. He talks after what seems like a lifetime, with a monotone and direct tone.

“I assume you’re the one that has asked for protection?” You swallow dryly, before responding.

“Not myself personally, but my family, yes.” You try to hide your disdain towards the situation, but he clocks the tension behind your words. The corner of his mouth lifts up slightly in what appears to be a smirk.

“Oh? You don't think you need protecting?” He sounds somewhat amused at your response. Great.

You pause before responding honestly “...I don’t.” The smirk from his lips widens and your stomach drops to the floor.

“How pitiful. Not only are you a mere monkey in comparison to us, but a delusional one too. You should know better coming from a family of sorcerers.” He tuts at you before shifting his stance by placing his thumb and index finger under his chin. “Tell me, why has your family come crawling to me for protection if you are so sure of yourself? Entertain me.”

You clench your fists slightly, not wavering your gaze towards him as you ignore his mocking tone. “I have my ways of fighting despite my limitations. They don’t believe me, which is why I’m here. It shouldn’t be their responsibility to protect me, I don’t want to be a burden-”

“And yet here you stand in my territory, abiding by your family's wishes. Delusional and spineless too? What redeeming qualities you have” he interjects sharply, huffing out a laugh before sighing “I suppose it's to be expected from your kind.” Your eye twitches in response to his comment, and he adjusts position again. He takes a seat on the tatami flooring, reclining on his side, holding his head up with one hand while pointing his finger at you with the other, closing his eyes. He speaks almost as if he were bored:

"If you didn't want to be a burden, you should have offed yourself instead of agreeing to this, no? At the very least, you'd have done something to make the world a little better."

His statement clearly reveals the shock on your face. He's not entirely wrong; you've considered doing that more than you'd want to admit. Regardless, you maintain your composure and answer harshly, standing up to your own beliefs and shrugging off any seeds of doubt.

"I want to survive. I want to show that I am capable of holding my own in this disgusting world.”

He looks at you calmly before smiling and opening one eye, pointing to the sky. "Well, if you're so sure that's what you want to do-" His aura shifts to something more sinister "-then survive."

The clap of force against your face and the spring air rushing into your nostrils makes you aware that you've been attacked, your body thrown outdoors into the courtyard. You fall to a shaky landing, still reeling from the event. The warm trickle of blood from your nostril puts things in perspective: Geto has unleashed a cursed spirit for you to combat. That fucker - you should have known something like this would happen.

You let the blood flow down past your lips and drop off your chin while you concentrate. You quickly reach behind you for your weapon, which is securely connected to your back. A four-part staff releases with a crack, chains clattering and angled blades on the ends gleaming in the sun. You swing them about, producing momentum and, at the same time, a barrier between yourself and the invisible force as you plot your fighting strategy. At this stage, you're relying on your senses and predictions of its strikes. You don’t even know what grade this entity is.

“If you die that’s not a problem, I have my ways of finding alternative funds.” Geto casually states as he walks out of his chambers through the hole formed by the propelled attack, arms placed in his sleeves. Some followers gather, clearly alerted by the commotion.

Now is not the time to concentrate on him, you reason as you close your eyes and focus on your senses. You sense it approaching from your right side and whip your beams towards the aura, hearing a solid smack - a decent hit. You turn about and aim for another hit with greater strength, now knowing where it is - it lands again, pushing the aura further away from yourself. If you can maintain this dynamic, you may have the advantage in the fight.

The fight continues in a similar manner, with you sensing the location of the curse and smacking it with your staff. It works initially, but after your last strike, it begins to learn your tactics and responds by redirecting your spears to the side, then landing a direct hit to the stomach, pushing you backwards once more. You stumble to the ground and wince at your injury, coughing up blood, before steadily returning to your combat posture. You slap your spears together, and they form a pole, holding it out in front of you in preparation for their next attack. Despite this, you were unprepared for what was to occur.

An abrupt shift in the fight throws you off-guard. A little girl runs into the battle towards you, completely unaware of the danger, while another girl of similar age gleefully chases her. They rapidly discover they've entered a dangerous zone and freeze behind you, but it's too late to back out. You hear the shrill cries of the followers, and you react.

The cursed spirit hits again, but this time you take a defensive stance, forcing the curse against your weapon. You're grunting from the strain of attempting to keep the spirit at away with your brute power. You shout, temporarily increasing the strength in your arms as you push the monster away from yourself and the children behind you. Once you believe there is enough distance between them and the threat, you immediately reach out to detour the girls away from the area, only to be confronted by Geto. He looms over you, standing between the children and you. He firmly grips your outstretched arm, squeezing your wrist tightly, and looks down at you with underlying rage in his cold, purple irises.

"Don't touch them" His voice is tinged with venom as he continues to look you down, feeling like prey caught in the predator's snare. You freeze in place, and then realise that the curse's aura has vanished; he must have released it. He throws your wrist to the side and turns his back on you, resting his hands on the girls' heads. The blonde girl is sniffling, and the other, brunette, is staring at you with an unreadable expression.

He speaks over your shoulder in a harsh tone, "Manami will accompany you to your chambers. Leave, now.” Before you realise, a lady appears beside you and it startles you. She holds a tablet in hand, and carries an intense blue gaze focused in your direction. She takes one look at you, noticing the twitch in her eye, before turning around and walking away. You assume to follow her, so you carefully disengage your weapon and walk (or rather limp) behind her. You look over your shoulder towards Geto as you leave the vicinity.

"Laure, take the girls to their rooms," he says unusually calmly. A male figure appears next to Geto, with blonde hair and an intense physique. He effortlessly picks up the girls and exits the area in another direction, nodding.

"Everyone else, please stay” He smiles. “It appears that some of you need a reminder on what happens when rules are broken.” You turn a bend, losing sight of the courtyard. All you hear in the coming moments is the spine-chilling screams from that direction, alongside the sensation of multiple monstrous auras, which makes your blood run cold. You turn to face Manami's back as you follow her towards your chambers, silently coming to terms with the reality that your life is in the hands of Suguru Geto from this point forth.

Breathe.

Thanks for the read guys <3 I will draw out readers weapon and some other scenes from this part alongside finishing off the second part - stay tuned and much love

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moremaybank · 1 year

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Can you do a Christmas smut with Klaus X witch reader and Klaus fucks her out of jealousy/anger. Also, can he tie her up with his own black suit tie? Love your work! <3

TINSEL & TIES — k.m

pairing klaus mikaelson x fem!witch!reader

summary after an argument, you try to make klaus jealous. in return, klaus has to let you know just how wrong that decision was.

warnings 18+, unprotected sex, bdsm (reader is tied, gagged and restrained), clit-slapping, orgasm denial, face-fucking, cum-swallowing, klaus being tied and gagged at the end, i think that’s it

author's note merry (belated) christmas. this is six days late, but who’s counting? (me. i’m counting. and the guilt is immeasurable) but anyways please enjoy :)

klaus masterlist

the compound looked magical.

warm white lights were strung carefully around the staircases alongside garland that complimented the extravagant christmas tree. poinsettias were laced through the lights and garland. mistletoe hung in strategic locations, a part of klaus's holiday shenanigans. the sweet aroma of baked holiday goods roamed through the air, and fake snow — provided by a spell of your own making — was littered everywhere, making it feel like a white christmas.

everything was perfect, courtesy of you. so it really was a shame that you didn't get the opportunity to enjoy it.

"you're being ridiculous! i put this entire party together, down to every last ornament hanging on that gorgeous tree downstairs. i'm not gonna sit out on my favourite holiday just because you're being paranoid!"

klaus sighed in exasperation, "i'm not being paranoid! i'm playing it safe. excuse me for trying to protect you from the countless enemies i have roaming about this city."

"well, whose fault is that? all you've done over the thousand years you've walked on this earth is turn everyone against you. this is your own fault. i don't deserve to be punished for your mistakes, klaus!"

klaus takes a step closer to you, the aggravation growing more apparent as the seconds ticked by.

"i'd hardly consider taking preventative measures to ensure your safety to be a punishment, y/n."

you rolled your eyes. it was a regular occurrence for klaus to treat you as if you were helpless and weak. it irked you to your core, and tonight, you'd had enough.

"i am so sick and tired of you breathing down my neck. you seem to forget that i can protect myself against anyone who dares to come at me. i am one of the most powerful witches this city has ever seen. i don't need you to babysit me, and i certainly don't need you to treat me as if i'm defenceless."

you shoved past him, shoulder hitting against his as you tried to storm out of your shared bedroom. klaus's hand clasped around your elbow, though, preventing you from making your escape.

"and just where do you think you're going?" klaus questioned, giving you a look of warning.

"downstairs. who knows, maybe i'll meet someone who respects me enough to let me fight my own battles. it'd be ten times better than having my boyfriend treat me like a child," you respond bitterly, "and maybe they'll also be able to make me come, unlike some people here."

it was a low blow and an untruthful one at that, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. it was exhausting having the person you love to act as if you were a burden. and on top of that, it's even worse when you feel as though they constantly undermine your strength.

so, there you were, flirting with a random party-goer who had absolutely no chance with you.

to be quite frank, what you really wanted to do was spend time with klaus. you wanted to dance with him, your bodies pressed close as you felt his undead heartbeat thump against your living one. to feel his hand stroke the small of your back as you two whispered sweet nothings to each other. to bask in the simple intimacy of holding him close to you. but he'd spoiled your mood, and in turn, you refused to be near him.

klaus's eyes had been daggering you two all night, no doubt making good use of his vampire-enhanced hearing abilities as he eavesdropped on your shameless teasing as the hours went by.

he was angry with you, there was no question, but all he could think about was that handsome stranger kissing you in places only klaus had kissed. touching you in places only klaus had touched. breaking you down until you were a mess in his arms as you cried out his name. it was taking everything in him to not tear his heart out of that man's chest and serve it to you on a silver platter.

klaus watched as you stroked the man's arm, fingers lingering over the material of his far less fancy suit as you laughed at his poor excuse of a joke. klaus then slammed his empty glass down on the bar after he chugged the contents of it down his throat, walking over you to and clutching your arm.

"if you don't back off my girl within the next five seconds, your head will be on a spike for everyone here to see. understand?"

the man gulped, nodding without a word before disappearing into the crowd.

you turned to klaus, irritated beyond measure. he was causing a scene — a pointless one — all because of the jealousy that coursed through his veins. before you had a chance to say anything, klaus was dragging you out of the party and up the stairs. once you two had reached your bedroom, he slammed the door and shoved you against it.

"you want to fight your own battles? to force me to watch you lead on some imbecile solely because you're angry with me? fine. that just means you'll take your punishment like a good girl, doesn't it?"

as angry as you were, klaus's words were soiling your panties as he stared down at you. his angry side in the bedroom had always been something you considered to be a blessing, and this time it was no different.

his hand came up to your neck, fingers squeezing your throat when you failed to answer, lost in your own thoughts. "you'd do well to answer me, sweetheart."

"yes, klaus. i will."

"good answer."

and with that, he spun you around, your front pushed flush against the wooden door as klaus's hands ripped the corset of your dress apart with one swift motion. your dress dropped to the floor, pooling around your high-heel-clad ankles. klaus's thick digits wrapped around your hip bones, digging into your skin as he pulled you against him. you could feel his length, hard and throbbing through the material of his suit pants, and it sent butterflies into your core. he was so close, yet so far, and it already had you reeling.

in a flash, you were on the bed, your back against the plush duvet as klaus towered over you. his fingers worked to remove the tie around his neck. when he was finished, he clasped your wrists together with one hand, drawing them to the headboard and securing them in place with the tie. he leaned back to admire his work.

your dress had done wonders for your cleavage, so you'd opted to go braless for the night. you'd also decided against panties because pre-argument-you had hoped to eliminate as many obstacles at the end of the night when klaus would inevitably have you at his mercy. in hindsight, you'd wished you'd worn a damn chastity belt to make things harder for him. your anger was diminishing slowly, but it was still present.

klaus's gaze drank in the sight of you, completely bare and exposed for him. he could sense your arousal from his place at the edge of the bed, and he wanted nothing more than to ravish you in every way possible. he wanted to fulfill your every desire; it was just the way he was. but he also wouldn't let you get away with your attitude and teasing so easily. he was still klaus. he relished in taking his revenge, and it was no different when it came to your treatment in the bedroom. especially when you pushed his buttons.

"i don't think your restrained wrists are enough for me. i do need to teach you a lesson after all."

"jealousy doesn't suit you, mister mikaelson."

"oh, darling. you haven't seen anything yet."

klaus disappeared into the closet, quickly finding three more neck-ties to bind you with. he returned, watching your brows furrow in confusion as he grabbed a hold of one of your ankles.

"as angry as i am, these shoes look gorgeous on you. i think we'd better leave them on," he spoke, bending your leg toward you as he tied your ankle to the headboard. he did the same to the other, and when he got to the last remaining tie, he tied it around the back of your head, gagging you.

the sight of you tied up, your body practically bent in half with each of your legs on either side of your restrained wrists, ready to be used by him...it was all too much. he could feel the madness, the dominant and possessive side of him fully present.

"here's what's going to happen. you'll let me fuck you just the way i want to without using any magic whatsoever to your advantage. disobey me, and you won't get to come tonight. are we clear?"

you gave him a glare, nodding angrily at him. he had you bound and gagged, for christ's sake. it was all you could do.

"good."

klaus began to strip himself of the remaining pieces of his suit, hearing each thump of your heart grow louder and louder as he revealed every inch of his bare skin to you. he climbed back on top of you, fully exposed as his flesh pressed against yours.

goosebumps spread over your skin in anticipation as his lips adorned your neck, nibbling harshly as he sucked love bites into your skin. you tried to hiss through the gag that kept your mouth open wide but to no avail. all you could manage was to pant heavily at the contact. you ached to touch him. to run your hands through his curls. to claw at the flesh of his back. to wrap your legs around his hips and tug his bottom half further into yours as he expressed his love to you through his actions. but alas, you couldn't.

as if he read your mind, his hips ground into your exposed and dripping core. the tip of his length brushed past your entrance, both of you jerking at the near intrusion.

"i'm going to wreck you. i want you to regret even conjuring the thought of someone making you come as hard as i do. we both know that no one could ever compare to me."

his lips trailed down your chest, leaving more love bites across your bare chest. he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue flicking it as he created the same motion on the other with his fingers. your chest heaved, already so far gone.

unbeknownst to you, he sunk his tip inside of you, the relief not quite enough to satiate your yearning for him. then, he buried himself inside of you with a harsh slam of his hips. you whimpered around the gag as he started to move mercilessly, leaving you no time to adjust to his monstrous cock.

"bloody hell, that mouth of yours never fails to get you into trouble, but without it, i wouldn't be able to rip you apart until you're begging for mercy."

klaus's teeth were gritted, the anger bleeding through his expressions and rough actions. his hand found your throat, fingers squeezing as he rutted into you deeper and harsher than ever before. his vampire abilities were on his side now more than ever, the speed of his thrusts quite literally inhumane.

"you're mine. mine to protect, and to love, and to fuck. mine to punish as i see fit. and the next time you force me to watch you flirt with a man who could never own you like i do, i'll do a whole lot more than just tie you up."

his tone was raspy, coated with jealousy but also with a certain want, and it made your toes curl as you took all of him inside of you again and again.

your wrists and ankles felt ached already, the fabric of the ties rubbing your skin raw and leaving behind red marks around them. but you didn't care. you couldn't focus on anything else as klaus fucked your brains out, watching him angrily mutter things to himself as he pulled your body against his to meet his movements. immense pleasure coursed through you as klaus's cock plunged deep into your core.

klaus brought a hand down to your lower stomach, pressing down as he thrusted and thrusted. you could feel every ridge and vein that adorned his length rub against that sweet spot inside of you. your legs were trembling on either side of you, as much as they could while being bound to the headboard.

without warning, he slapped your clit harshly as he fucked you, your hips jerking at the sudden strike. your walls clamped down on his length as if to keep him inside, and your cream began to coat klaus's cock. you hadn't come yet, but you were damn close, and klaus knew that.

"always so responsive. you drive me absolutely mad, did you know that?" he spoke, his hand slapping your clit again repeatedly. you were writhing beneath him, though you were folded and restrained. klaus, who had memorized all your tells when it came to you reaching your high, knew that you were right on the brink, and he smirked as he pulled out of you. "it's too bad that you won't get to come tonight."

he then yanked on the tie that gagged you, casting it behind him as he crawled on top of you. in a matter of seconds, his hand was sliding his aching member down your throat. your mouth was stuffed with him, even though it was still sore from the tie. the corners of your lips burned as he began to fuck your face, balls slapping against your chin as he forced you to take all of him down your airway.

tears brimmed in your eyes as he now held your head in place with both of his hands, and you gagged around him. you struggled for air, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as you looked up at klaus with your big doe eyes.

he was biting his lip, fingers threading through your hair and tugging as he brought himself to his orgasm. he let out a groan, his hips starting to stutter as he let the hot ropes of his cum slide down the back of your throat. you could see his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, and he pulled out of you slowly. he looked down at you once more, his thumb stroking over your wet lips.

he went to speak, but he was cut off when he heard you breathe out what sounded like a spell. he knew he'd heard you correctly when the ties that bound you to the bed gave out instantly. your limbs sprang free, and as soon as you could, you pushed klaus beneath you and used your magic to restrain his own hands. you also gagged him with the tie he'd used on your mouth, and you could see the fury in his eyes.

he mumbled something through the tie, much like you had earlier, and his frustration bled through his barely-formed words.

“i could tell you really needed that, so i let you have your fun. but now…” you paused, your hand coming up to his throat, “it’s my turn to take what i want.”

klaus tag list (join here!): @princess-charming-01 @maybankslover @trenchmaniac @techlipse @the-kaya-aa @catmikaelson20 @hopesdadswife @amournoir @skydisneylover @kittyqrt @Iluvniklaus @diyabhanushali1 @your_best_hoe

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promptful · 1 year

Note

what is best way to hug someone

Different Types of Hugs

I'm not even sure this ask is truly meant for me, but it sparked inspiration, so I answered it lol. and MAN I got poetic with it, lmao. Enjoy! (Tag me in it if you write anything, these are some of my favorites so far!) DO NOT ADD.

WARNINGS: Implied suggestive content. Violence? That's it. Implied dissociation.

1) The goodbye hug; a quick press of lips to cheeks and brief embraces before separating in your different ways.

2) The long goodbye hug; arms wrapped around one another and refusing to let go. Their lips whispering reassurances in your ears until one of you finally separates.

3) The reuniting hug; standing across from one another, frozen. Then, finally, they tumble into you and you can do nothing but hold on tight.

4) The awkward hug; usually sideways, arms strung about shoulders with half-smiles that don’t reach eyes. A grimace on their face, and a grimace on yours.

5) The forced hug; similar to children forced to apologize, this hug is done underneath prying eyes. All warm on the outside, but actually glaring at one another on the inside, limbs stiff and bared teeth.

6) The comforting hug; they wrap around you as you sink to the floor. Their breathing matches yours while they walk you through as many comfort methods possible, voice soft against your ear.

7) The reluctantly comforting hug; although they don’t care for you—and you don’t care for them—they can’t stand to see you like this. It’s unnatural. Stiff as can be, they wrap around you and attempt comforting.

8) The reassurance hug; one where you wrap entirely around them similarly to armor, but only fighting intangible enemies. Their words, strong in tone, combat your demons and insecurities, proclaiming their love with each syllable.

9) The grounding hug; with permission, they wrap around you, keeping you tethered to this world while your mind spirals. No words are necessary. Their presence is enough.

10) The safety hug; feet dug into dirt, arms wrapping around their waist so they don’t tumble headfirst into something stupid. At first, they try to fight, but eventually sink into your unrelenting grasp.

11) The disarming hug; arms wrap, but they’re not warm. Their voice whispers, but it isn't safe. They want you to wholly trust them, no matter their intentions.

12) The broken-hearted hug; a last ditch attempt to salvage relationships. You try to keep them close—convince them for a second chance. They don’t give you one.

13) The crowded hug; usually on a packed train or concert, they wrap around you to keep you close, out of crowds, and safe. Breaths shared between one another, every word a zap of whispered electricity.

14) The protection hug; their back shown to the threat, keeping you tucked against them. Their chin digs into your head, breathing rough while the shockwave/noise/yells tear through the room.

15) The shielding hug; your back to the threat, they stare over your shoulder/around you at the threat, eyes narrowed into daggers. They won’t allow harm to come towards you.

16) The guiding hug; a hand against the small of your back, waddling the two of you away from a horrible sight.

17) The morning hug; sleepy eyes and warm limbs. They hold you close, eyes shut while they rake in the morning sun and thank the stars for this very moment.

18) The nighttime hug; knowing that your lover doesn’t care if you’re sleep deprived and run ragged. Your arms wrap around them, and they reciprocate with hushed whispers and soft, chaste kisses, tucking you into bed and soon following.

19) The snuggle-hug; done in bed or on the couch, all limbs entwined with fingers carding through hair. Their head rests on your, or vice versa, and rest ensues knowing that one another is nearby.

20) The heartbeat-hug; head pressed against their chest, you listen to each thump of their steady heartbeat and relish in that they’re here, with you.

21) The warmth-hug; a hug only meant to share heat when it's cold. Skin to skin from head to toe.

22) The frozen-hug; another hug meant to share the cold when it’s sweltering. Their hands skimming underneath your shirt to absorb the ice-cube-like skin.

23) The distraction-hug; their arms wrap around your waist, head plunked against your shoulder blade/on top of your shoulder blade, slightly swaying. All in hopes of distracting you from what you’re currently doing.

24) The kiss-me hug; a hug that feels like lightning in a dark sky. Eyes blown and lips parted, breathing hitched and stuttered while you wrap around one another. Desperate to feel the warm body of your SO.

25) the stepping-stone hug; drifting fingers and lingering looks. Shed clothing and stumbling embraces down the hallway. This hug usually proceeds by the morning hug (17) some hours later.

#hug prompts #otp prompts #writing prompts #writeblr #creative writing #prompt list #writing #writing help #fluff prompts #tw: suggestive #cw: suggestive #tw: violence #cw: violence #p.#a.#as.#cw: dissociation #tw: disassociation

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lou-struck · 1 year

Text

Safe Up Here

Keigo Takami x Reader

~After a bad day, Keigo knows just what to do to help you relax

A/n: this was initially a part of my Comfort Milestone Event, but I forgot about it for a while.

...Anyways, enjoy!

“Excuse me,” a man grunts, pushing past you on the street. He doesn't look back, even though his movements were unusually aggressive. Almost as if wherever he was heading was more important than where you were going. The push wasn't enough to harm you, but the hot tea in your hand could say otherwise.

The still-steaming liquid escapes the lip of your paper cup and gushes onto your exposed skin. The stinging sensation causes your breath to hitch, your eyes begin to water with tears of hot frustration.

All day long, it seems you have been getting pushed around like this. The only thing you want to do is head back home, curl up in the safety of your apartment and sleep till Keigo gets home from his patrol.

But as you make it to your front door, your cozy and quiet apartment gets bombarded with a symphony of crashing, hammering, and buzzing from the unit below.

Your Neighbors have been doing a remodeling project for weeks, but it has never been this loud until today; the absolute worst time. The sounds are too much for your worn-down psyche. You cover your ears, but you can still feel the ear-splitting sound of a buzz saw cutting through metal piping.

This wouldn't do at all.

You make it over to the couch and press one of the decorative couch cushions to the side of your head in hopes of muffling the horrid sounds. But it doesn't help. The bumping, the thumping, the noise. It's more than you can bear. You shut your eyes tightly and try to focus on something other than the chaos below.

A gentle hand lightly shakes your shoulder, you peek open your eyes and move the pillow from your field of vision.

“There you are Angel,” Keigo chuckles from above, his red wings folded neatly against his back. “I guess you couldn't hear me come in over all this noise.”

“It’s too loud in here Kei,” you murmur and he walks around the couch to face you. "M' tired."

Now in front of you, he scans your weary features with concern. "Did you have a bad day?" he asks, cupping your cheek. He gently rubs a mark from the pillow out of your soft skin with the pad of his ungloved hand.

Meeting his honey-colored gaze, you can't bring yourself to lie to him "Y-yeah." you admit, his arms wrapping around you. "All day long, people have been yelling at me, being rude, and knocking me over on the street."

"Someone pushed you?" His arms tighten around you protectively, the stubble from his chin tickles the crook of your neck as he deepens the embrace.

"They didn't mean to Kei," you sigh, "at least I think they didn't." Another series of bumps and crashes from below causes you to flinch in his hold.

"It's too loud in here, huh?" he says gently. "Can I help you?"

You nod, and he lets go of you and disappears from your line of sight. Immediately you miss his warmth, but I see his footsteps pad across the floor. You wonder if he is going to head down and talk to the workers downstairs.

But the front door never opens. You hear a faint shuffling sound followed by the zipping sound of his bag.

“Still there?” he chuckles, coming back around the couch. A pair of his noise-canceling headphones rest in his hand. Normally he uses them when the wind gets too viscous and he needs to hear any oncoming distress calls over the radio.

“I thought these would help you relax a bit?” he says, “Want to try them on?”

“Are you sure?” you blink, sitting up on the couch, “Don’t you need them for patrol?”

“Nah,” he says, giving you a persuasive smile that has you leaning into his outstretched hands. He gently opens the headphones up and places them snugly around your ears.

The world has gone silent, the buzzing, the sawing, the hammering. It has all stopped. Looking at Keigo, you see his mouth moving, but you can no longer hear what he is saying.

"What was that?" You say a bit too loudly as you pull one of the cups off of your ear.

“You couldn’t hear me, huh?" He grins. "These things work really well. I promise you won’t be able to hear anything if you don’t want to."

“Thank you Keigo, but are you sure it’s okay that I use these?” You ask again. “They’re a part of your costume, aren’t they?”

His features soften and he looks at you adoringly, touched by your concern, “Don’t worry, I have others. And even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be much of a hero if I let my Angel keep having this bad day.”

“You’d still be a great hero,” you say softly. “But these are really nice. Thank you for letting me use them. I think I can relax now.”

With his headphones once again resting properly around your ears, the world returns to its peaceful silence.

Shifting in your seat, you get yourself situated deeper into the couch cushions. Stretching your arm out, you try to grab the end of the woven blanket that hangs off the back of the couch, but it's just out of your reach. With a stretch, your fingers manage to take hold of the edge of the blanket, but Keigo moves it farther away from you.

“Hey, I wanted to use that.” You pout, jutting out your bottom lip. And removing your headphones once again.

“did you really think I was done?” Keigo coos sweetly. Letting the stolen blanket drop to the floor. “I want to help you relax a bit more. "

“What did you have in mind? “you ask, raising a brow.

A group of feathers slides between you and the couch cushions suddenly. They lift you up and carry you over to him. Now in his arms, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “You’ll just have to trust me.” he smiles, leaning back in for another kiss. “Can you do that?”

You nod stupidly and he carries you out onto the balcony. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Just on a little flight,” he smiles, looking at how perfectly you fit in his arms. “Is this okay?”

“Yea, I feel safe. I like flying with you,” you answer, recalling the many nights you have spent in the sky.

A proud little smile takes over his features as he types in something on his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “Then hang on tight, Angel.”

A few flaps from his powerful red wings propel the two of you into the air.

The wind doesn't bother you, but it makes your skin tingle. Before any sort of yelp escapes your lips, a little chime from his Bluetooth sounds from inside the headphones and music begins to play.

“I thought a little bit of in-flight entertainment might do you some good,” he says. "Just put on the headphones and try to get some rest. I promise that with me, you are safe.”

“Thank you, Keigo,” you murmur, laying your head against his chest.

“You’re welcome, just relax, okay?” he says. "I made sure to make the playlist just for you.”

You have no room for objections. You take the headphones from around your neck and put them on properly. Giving your boyfriend’s arm a gentle squeeze of acknowledgment.

The gentle pulsing of his heartbeat against your skin, along with the soft sound of music from the cushy headphones around your ears, make it all too easy to let go of today’s events.

As you let go, your eyelids feel like lead from all of your exhaustion and you find yourself drifting off in the secure hold Keigo’s arms provide.

Keigo knows you have fallen asleep, and the fact that you have done so in his arms makes his chest puff up with pride. You trust him enough to be this vulnerable around him.

With you in his arms still snug, he touches down on your balcony. “I love you so much y/n.” He whispers placing a gentle kiss on your forehead hoping that you can feel his love in the dreams you will no doubt be having later.

#my hero academia hawks #bnha fluff #my hero academia #bnha #hawks x reader fluff #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #boku no hero academia hawks #keigo tamaki #keigo x reader #takami keigo x reader #bnha x reader #hawks fluff

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darkwolf989 · 27 days

Text

Outside The Office Part Nineteen

Hi all,

Some voted for an exploration scene between reader and Val, so here it is! I have to say, it was fun to write and for sure helps solidify their relationship. If anyone has any suggestions for things they should explore together, please feel free to DM me or leave a comment!

Mature content warning! As always, thoughts, comments and feedback are appreciated!

I felt myself shiver at his words. I watched him drape the stethoscope around his neck and he pressed his lips against mine. Butterflies fluttered. Just the sight of him wearing it, another position of dominance, had me dripping. God, he could listen to whatever he wanted if it meant putting me in that submissive role. Why was this such a turn on? I wrapped my arms around him, the fire ignited in my belly. Questions. I needed to ask them.

“I need a little more information about this one, Val.” I said as I reached up and touched the stethoscope around his neck. His grin gave away just how pleased he was that I was asking. A desire to learn myself with him as my partner.

“It’s called cardiophilia, my princessa. Quite simply, it's when a person is in love with the sound, sight or…” he paused and pressed his hand against my chest, “feeling of the heart- more specifically, the heartbeat.” He ran his hands up my neck and pressed over the pulse point, “oftentimes, it’s combined with a love for feeling the blood rushing through the veins or arteries, but not always.” His fingers pressed ever so slightly harder and his grin widened. “More questions?”

I shivered at his touch, certain he could feel my heartbeat speeding up. “Is it…just heartbeats that turn some people on?”

I honestly didn’t think he could look anymore thrilled and he pulled his hand from my throat, sliding his hand down my side, all the way to my belly. He pressed my stomach gently as he leaned in closer to me.

“No, princessa. It isn’t. It falls under a much wider umbrella. An auscultation kink- when one enjoys the sounds a body makes. Your belly rumbling, for example.” He kissed down my neck again and paused. “I wonder, my princessa, by how often you cling to me and bury your face into my body if this is a kink of yours?” His lips pressed against my neck again and held in place, just at the pulse point.

I swallowed.

“There is a kink for swallowing too, mi amore,” he breathed. “But let’s explore one at a time, shall we?” With a firm movement, he pulled me upright into his lap. I wrapped one arm around him for balance and leaned into him. He took the stethoscope from around his neck and placed it in my ears. His hand covered mine and he guided the stethoscope to his chest, holding my hand in place.

I felt his hardness underneath me as I listened to the frantic beating of his heart. The feeling of security, of safety, of what Valentino offered coupled with the sound left me squirming in his lap. With his other hand, he reached down, his fingers found my clit. He toyed with me, gentle motions until I came around his fingers to the steady thumping in his chest.

He gently removed his hand from mine and took the stethoscope from my ears. He draped it back around his neck as he shifted me so that my head was against his chest. I struggled to catch my breath for a moment, and his fingers fell against my neck, again finding that pulse point. I could feel his cock twitch under me and I waited for him to speak.

“I enjoy both feelings and listening to the inner workings of your body, mi amor,” he said softly as he held me. “To feel the rise and fall of your chest against mine, the frantic beating of your heart after I make you come. The sounds your body makes that prove to me you’re alive.” His hand pressed against my chest and slowly slid down to my belly. He laid back and cradled me to him, toying with the stethoscope, almost hesitantly. “Tell me your thoughts, princessa.”

“I feel safe in your arms and when I hear your heartbeat Val I know that you’ll protect me. I think that turns me on more than the actual sounds. The position of power you have over me, and sort of the doctor thing, but Val…” I intertwined my fingers with his. “If it turns you on to hear my heartbeat, or my belly grumbling, or the feeling of my chest moving, my body is yours to explore.” I leaned up and kissed just under his chin as I reached down and rubbed my hand against his cock. “I mean it, Val. My pleasure is just as important as yours. I know you’ve seen it all in your studio, but I want to explore these kinks together, and find what feels good for both of us.”

He groaned as I toyed with him, and allowed me to do so for a few moments before he sat up and rolled over so that I was pinned under him. He reached as if to grab my wrists but pulled back at the sight of the bruises. His face reddened and for a moment, I thought he was going to pull away.

“Val, my neck, my chest, my belly,” I pleaded under him, “my body is full of…”

He pressed his lips to mine, effectively cutting me off. One hand fell lightly to my throat and I felt him push into me. I left out a soft moan.

“I want to fill you up until your belly swells, princessa,” he groaned softly. “Hard and round under me. Listen to your heart beat frantically as you try to manage the pain and pleasure that comes as I exert that control over you. And there are so many fucking ways to do it. A tummy filled to bursting with toys…air, water, cum…” he paused for the briefest of moments and his hips thrusted quicker against me and he pressed his thumb deeper into my neck, “my babies…fuck the idea of your tummy swollen with my….fuck!”

I felt him spasm deep inside and let out a soft moan of my own. Valentino’s babies? My stomach round? I had never given it a thought, but god he was right- that was a turn on. He held himself inside me until he was completely spent, and slowly pulled out, laying next to me.

“Fuck,” he panted softly. “Fuck.”

I reached over and pulled him to me as I guided his head to my chest. His breathing was quick as he tried to catch his breath. His hand fell to my abdomen and he gently rubbed my belly as he closed his eyes. Under the weight of his head, I could feel my own heart thundering.

“Did you mean that Val?” I asked after a few moments of nothing but the sound of thundering hearts and quick breaths.

“I meant everything I said,” he answered, exhaustion in his voice. And then, something else crept into his tone. Vulnerability. “Please don’t let that frighten you. I would never…”

I pressed a finger to his lips and he fell silent.

“Do you mean my actual stomach or do you mean my…”

“Both, princessa,” he replied tiredly. He pressed his head harder against my chest. “We can talk about the stomach kinks another night, but to the other you need to know I mean what I said. And I’ve never thought about having kids before, but just the idea of you carrying them in your belly makes me absolutely feral.” He exhaled slowly, his voice starting to fade as he drifted to sleep. “If I’m being honest,” he mumbled, “just the thought of making your belly round turns me the fuck on, almost as much as laying here listening to your heart does. If I wasn’t so spent I would…”

He went silent, his breathing slowed and evened. I wrapped my arms around him and settled back against the pillows. His words left me both curious and intrigued. A rounded belly. Frantic heartbeats. Valentino’s babies. My own exhaustion swept over me, and with him cradled in my arms, I allowed myself to succumb to sleep.

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