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electric--blanket · 3 years

Text

a place where the heart rests

so, because @thekaiserroll drew fanart of my fanfiction i decided to return the favour by writing a long Wintersberg one-shot based off of her short comic! i hope you enjoy touch-starved Heisenberg.

warnings for death (not for main characters) and some angst.

read on ao3

Mama… I want mama. It hurts.

Where’s mama?

Karl Heisenberg always suffered from nightmares. Even before he was taken in by Mother Miranda — as a child, Heisenberg often experienced night terrors that had him screaming in his bed. There were distant memories in the back of his mind, where he’d wake from a terrible dream that had him screaming for his mother — and she’d always come to his side. In that terribly large, cold estate that Heisenberg once called home, it always felt so lonely. But, his mother always eased his fears; with her silk nightgown and the distinct smell of expensive soap. Her soft fingers would comb through Heisenberg’s locks of ashen brown hair, hushing him in a soft tone of voice — a voice he could no longer remember.

During the experiments, it was the only thing Heisenberg begged for when he felt the cadou infesting his body. It felt like a worm wriggling around in the wet soil during a storm, curling and writhing through his organs. He screamed for his mother, wishing she would save him from the pain and take him home again. A seventeen-year-old boy screaming for his mother to come and save him looked utterly pathetic from Mother Miranda’s perspective, and the feeling of fear only intensified when she stroked Heisenberg’s hair whilst he screamed. A soft whisper that uttered, “I’m your mother now, child.” It made Heisenberg nearly vomit.

That was the last time someone had ever touched him so tenderly. He’d not felt a loving touch since then and ducked away from Miranda’s so-called ‘motherly’ touches.

At first, Heisenberg coped with the intense trauma of his bodily changes by taking it in stride and calling his newfound power of magnetism a ‘gift’. He knew deep down it was the opposite: it stopped him from ageing, rendered him infertile and stripped away his dignity by becoming a slave to Miranda. It took a long time for Heisenberg to fully process what had happened to him. His father had left him in the clutches of a madwoman, and his life only got worse from there.

In a fit of rage — perhaps at the age of twenty-nine — he revisited his parent's estate to confront the man he could no longer call ‘father’. He had aged since Heisenberg last saw him, but those steel eyes he’d inherited were still as hard as ever. His mother lingered in a doorway just down the hall, but she didn’t dare come to greet her son as he snapped with a short, interrupted breath. Heisenberg had grabbed his father by the neck and pinned him to the nearest wall, knocking down a beautiful oil painting his mother adored. His fingers didn’t seem to stop, squeezing on the skin and bone until he felt a sickening crack vibrate beneath his fingers.

Heisenberg hadn’t meant it, not really. It was as if a demon had taken control of his body and sought revenge that barely mattered anymore. He didn’t realise what he’d done until he heard the sound of his mother screaming; distraught and fearful of her own son that she’d once coddled so long ago.

That was the last time Heisenberg saw his mother and father. The estate was quickly abandoned not long after, and from what he knew, his mother took her belongings and moved to Austria with some distant relatives. That large house teased Heisenberg every fucking day, with how it towered near the factory grounds and reminded him of what he’d done. Arson wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, but Heisenberg couldn’t resist taking a match to the place and watching it burn. Whatever childhood remained in that house was left in a pile of ashes, and he never looked upon it ever again. All of the silly dreams and hopes he’d had for his life were gone.

That was until Ethan Winters showed up. Nearly a hundred years later, Heisenberg felt something he’d sought after for so long — hope.

“Karl? Karl—!”

Mama. I want mama. Everything hurts.

Heisenberg forced his eyes open. It felt like his life was replaying in front of him whilst he was passed out; like watching an old film reel repeating itself and becoming more distorted each time. Up until that very night, Heisenberg’s life had been a series of traumatic events and unforgivable actions.

That night, he’d turned it all around just by laying his eyes on Ethan Winters. A man so incredible, resilient and insane… He’d do anything to get his little girl back. It was the man Heisenberg had oh-so wanted his father to be, and he admired that about Ethan. He’d never been so good at expressing his emotions honestly, or even laying out his ideas in a proper fashion to others… Oh, but Ethan was special. He’d shown Heisenberg patience that he’d not been offered before and decided to join him at his side to kill Miranda. Together.

“Karl… Fuck— Don’t die on me, asshole.”

Ethan… Ethan…

Above the metal remnants of what his mutated body had used as a shell, he could hear Ethan pushing the scrap aside to try and find Heisenberg buried beneath it. He could also hear the distinct cries of a distressed baby, something that brought him back to Earth. Heisenberg reached up through the metal until his bare, calloused fingers brushed up against Ethan’s soft knuckles. There was a moment of silence when their skin touched, but Ethan didn’t waste any time in grabbing Heisenberg’s hand and pulling him out.

The moment the pressure around his body ceased, Heisenberg felt the telltale feeling of sickening warmth seeping from many wounds across his body. The cadou inside him didn’t react too well to it, trying to cope with the trauma done by squirming and pulsating inside of him. Heisenberg drank in the expression of Ethan’s relieved face for just a moment, only until it warped into one of worry and horror. Heisenberg was weak, and his knees buckled beneath the weight of his torso before he fell back onto the ground.

The baby cupped carefully in one of Ethan’s arms began to cry again as Ethan jostled her accidentally in an attempt to help Heisenberg. A baby crying wasn’t really helping Heisenberg’s already distressed state, but it made him realise just how fucked he was. There was no way they would get away in time together, and Heisenberg was too injured to walk. The cadou might have helped to some degree, but it didn’t ease the burning pain in his body, and the loss of blood that was making him dizzy.

Ethan’s horrified expression was pinned on an appendage from the Megamycete, which rose up from the cave systems like a flower bud in spring, ready to bloom. The small, red flashing light alerted him to the fact that Chris Redfield had succeeded in planting the bomb. They had to leave.

“Go.”

A silence hung in the air for just a moment, and Heisenberg didn’t realise what he’d just said. For the first time in his miserable existence, he was being selfless and urging Ethan to leave him behind. It was the last thing Heisenberg wanted.

Don’t leave me here. I’m fucking scared. I don’t want to die yet.

“Fuck you,” Ethan’s voice trembled with venom, “I’m not leaving you here now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Heisenberg let out a bitter chuckle, tasting the blood seeping from his gums as he grinned, “I don’t think we have any time to be arguing about this, buttercup.”

“No. I— Mia’s dead, Karl. I need you.”

That’s right. Heisenberg briefly recalled Miranda’s kidnapping of the not-so-innocent woman and the experimentation that followed. Unfortunately, her body gave in due to her state after giving birth and she died on Miranda’s operating table. Ethan’s wife was dead, and Rose was now left without a mother’s loving touch.

“I said go. Rose needs her papa intact, not blown to pieces.” Heisenberg insisted, slumping back against the pile of scrap metal.

“Damn it—” Ethan looked hesitant to leave Heisenberg. It was a truly sweet sentiment: to see someone care about him after all this time. After all of the terrible things he’d done, and the love he’d been deprived of… Someone cared about him. Maybe that was enough. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to die like this.

“Fuck.” Ethan stammered again, licking his dry lips and swallowing, “Karl… I… Thank you.”

“... Yeah. I know, Ethan.”

That was all he needed. A trembling, watery smile shot his way before Ethan held Rose close with both arms and turned to run.

He’s going to be a great father.

Heisenberg looked up at the plant-like form the Megamycete had taken, looming down upon the ceremony courtyard with writhing mold creeping closer to Heisenberg. It was then that he decided that giving in like this wasn’t who he was: he was a fighter to his last breath.

In a last attempt to preserve his life, Heisenberg parted the pile of scrap metal and shuffled beneath it all. He rolled his wrist, the cocoon of metal surrounding him and tightening. The metal creaked, drowning out the sounds of the mold writhing around the metal to try and get inside. Heisenberg closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. I won’t die. Not yet.

The explosion that followed shortly after was deafening, causing the entire ground to shake beneath him and the metal to shudder against his body. It felt painful, rippling off his injured skin like that… But, fortunately for Heisenberg, the explosion wasn’t nuclear — the blast was enough to do the job and wipe out the mold and the Megamycete.

A silence followed the explosion, brick and ash collapsing against Heisenberg’s metal cocoon. Each noise made him flinch, and his fingers twitched instinctively as some final line of defence. He didn’t know how long it was before he felt brave enough to let his guard down and release his telekinetic grip on the metal. The scraps suddenly slumped, collapsing around him as Heisenberg pushed the metal off of his body and emerged like a phoenix rising from the ashes of its former self.

The smoke and dust still remained, causing Heisenberg to cough heavily as he took a sharp inhale of the air. He squinted through the dust and remains of what was left of his home town and realised how much he’d lost. It hit him all at once; his childhood, his parents and his fucked up little family. Even though he hated Miranda and his makeshift siblings deeply, they were all he truly had left to call ‘family’. It was over in the blink of an eye, and Heisenberg suddenly felt like a child all over again. Like a child waking from a nightmare, scared and alone.

Heisenberg’s fingers twitched into tight fists, clamping his mouth shut as tears threatened to spill down his face. Even after all this, he tried to will himself not to cry, to never let down the walls he had so carefully built. But, at that moment there was nothing left to keep the foundations upright. Heisenberg’s fists loosened, and he brought his hands up to cover his face instinctively. A knot seemingly untied itself in his chest and throat, and a guttural sob left him. Maybe — just maybe — it was okay.

Navigating the woods was even worse during a snowstorm at night. It was bad enough that Heisenberg’s body was weak from his healing injuries, but it felt haggard from his intense emotional breakdown. In a strange sense, he felt relief from it but at the same time, it felt awfully inconvenient. Heisenberg was sure he looked like a terrible mess; his clothes were torn and his hair was damp with clumps of ash hanging from his silver locks. Not to mention the blood staining his clothes, and his valuable dog tags that hung low on his chest.

In his many idle chats with Ethan before they fought Miranda, he could recall the other man mentioning he didn’t live too far from the village. It was a fair distance away, but not too far that it would be impossible to reach if your car broke down on the road between them. Still, it wasn’t a pleasant or short walk.

By the time Heisenberg even managed to reach a place that looked like a livable home, he was close to collapsing in the snow… But, he held out. The lights were turned off inside, but a motion sensor light on the property turned on once Heisenberg got close enough. The bulb blinded him briefly, and he held a hand up to shield his eyes as he walked up the porch to the door. Heisenberg sluggishly lifted his hand, knocking on the door as hard as he could and leaning against the frame. It took a few moments before he could see a light turn on inside from the windows, and the sound of someone walking down a wooden staircase slowly.

The person on the other side of the door stopped before they reached for the doorknob, and they spoke out.

“Who is it?”

Ethan Winters. That voice Heisenberg had missed so dearly; in all of its glory and full of caution. It almost made him laugh.

“Let me in, Ethan. I’m freezing.”

“Karl?”

“As smart as ever, Ethan. Can you hurry up?”

Ethan was quick to unlock the door and remove the security chain, twisting the doorknob and pulling it open. There, Ethan was standing in a pristine white shirt and some boxers that hung low on his hips… Along with a pair of comical slippers that seemed to resemble a cartoon dog. Heisenberg’s lips twitched into a tired grin.

“Oh my, too much skin, Ethan. Back in my day—”

“Shut up and get in here!”

Ethan grabbed Heisenberg’s arm, tugging him inside to shield him from the snowstorm outside. He slammed the door shut and quickly locked it back up, and the two men finally stood face-to-face. There was a silence that hung in the air, with so many unanswered questions on the tip of Ethan’s tongue, but none came. Without any further hesitation, Ethan threw his arms around Heisenberg’s neck and tugged him close for an embrace.

It was the first time Ethan had touched him in such a way. So full of affection and genuinity, it made Heisenberg’s fingers tremble with uncertainty. He didn’t know what to do with his hands: so overcome with the touches that smothered him. His brows creased into an expression of relief, and Heisenberg’s steel eyes fluttered shut as he succumbed to the hug. He wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist, squeezing him carefully and burying his face into Ethan’s shoulder. The smell of talcum powder and formula milk permeated his shirt, giving Heisenberg the comfort he craved. He never wanted Ethan to stop touching him, and he was content to stay like this for as long as he could — to make up for all the time he’d lost aching after affection.

“I thought…” Ethan mumbled slowly, “I thought you were dead.”

“Mm.” Heisenberg hummed lowly in response, curling his fingers into Ethan’s shirt. “So did I. Turns out I’m hard to kill.”

Ethan snorted softly.

As it turned out, Heisenberg wasn’t too bad with kids.

It was a tough adjustment for the two men at first; Ethan had to keep Heisenberg a well-guarded secret as he was moved to a new location with Rose (courtesy of the BSAA). Heisenberg followed their steps at a safe distance, but he was never too far from them. Understandably, Ethan was moved into a smaller home: a humble bungalow in a quiet German village. Once the BSAA had left Ethan in peace with Rose, it didn’t take long before Heisenberg settled into the bungalow with them.

Ethan had insisted that if Heisenberg was going to stay there with him and Rose, then he’d need to learn to help take care of the baby. At first, he was extremely hesitant to do something akin to a parental figure… But, Rose was a surprisingly sweet baby. She didn’t fuss too much and rarely threw a tantrum over the little things. Rose was the right amount of responsibility for Heisenberg, and that made him a patient parent.

He’d been taught how to properly hold her (after many lectures), how to prepare her formula and change her. Rose was understandably unhappy with Heisenberg’s presence at first, perhaps longing for her mother that was no longer around… But, after a few months, she took to Heisenberg very well.

Because of Karl’s lack of mortality and infertility, he never thought he’d take the figure of a father like this… But, it wasn’t exactly an unwelcome opportunity. He’d even upgraded from sleeping on the couch to Ethan’s bed.

The first night Ethan invited him to bed, Heisenberg could tell from the flustered look on Ethan’s face that it took a lot of courage to ask him to bed. A sexual joke lingered on the tip of Heisenberg’s tongue, but he bit it back in favour of keeping the proposal on the table. Instead, Heisenberg had nodded with a cheeky grin and followed Ethan to bed.

There had been some nights where the loss of Mia hit Ethan harder than he’d liked it to — even after Mia’s work with The Connections was revealed, he had still loved her to a degree. Those nights were the hardest. All Heisenberg could do was hold Ethan in his arms and comfort him with nothing more than his presence.

This invitation into Ethan’s bed was far more intimate than a comforting hug. At first, they stayed a polite distance apart on either side of the bed, with Ethan turned on his side whilst Heisenberg stared up at the dark ceiling. In the darkness, his eyes created shapes that danced across the ceiling and warped before him. Much like the mold that infested him, it was as if it continued to taunt him with its presence. After a moment, Heisenberg finally turned onto his side and glanced at the lump that was Ethan with his back to him. That urge to touch returned to the forefront of Heisenberg’s mind. It was that deep ache in his chest, like a lump of flour stuck in a smooth dough that needed to be coaxed inward.

He reached out but stopped himself before he could touch, trying to plan the best way to move forward with what he wanted. Heisenberg pursed his lips, shuffling his body closer to Ethan’s back until he finally slid his arm over Ethan’s waist. He could feel Ethan’s body freeze and tense up a little, which made Heisenberg’s heart feel like stopping altogether. Had he gone too far?

But after a moment, Ethan relaxed, pressing his chest back into Karl slowly. It was all the permission he needed to slot himself fully against Ethan and quietly seek out his hand. Once Heisenberg found it, he carefully laced their fingers together as he held Ethan like that, tugging him close with his elbow.

No words were spoken in the darkness, but a silent understanding of what they both wanted. Heisenberg finally felt complete like this, closing his eyes and exhaling tiredly. His body suddenly felt tired, releasing all the tension it had been holding trying to psyche himself up to do it.

A feeling of affection swelled in Heisenberg’s chest as he held Ethan, finally giving in to the darkness and drifting away with their bond now stronger than ever.

“Are you fucking insane, Ethan?!”

Chris Redfield. A thorn in Heisenberg’s side, but not as bad as Miranda. His voice filling their home put Heisenberg on edge, but it didn’t really matter too much to him. It was around ten in the morning, and the couple had just had breakfast. The television was on, playing some cartoons in the background as Rose was sitting on the soft carpet of the living area with her toys, and Heisenberg sat close to her.

When Chris made an unexpected visit, and he spotted Heisenberg in the living room, the yelling began. Ethan had kept Chris just outside of the room so that Rose didn’t see her father getting angry, and Heisenberg made sure to keep her attention on her toys. Heisenberg was wearing a pair of tartan boxers, along with a button-up pyjama shirt with a white tank top beneath it. It wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of bedtime fashion, but it made him comfortable enough at night.

When the yelling only got worse and Rose seemed irritated by the noise, Heisenberg carefully brought Rose into his lap and crossed his legs.

“Hmm,” He hummed in feigned thoughtfulness, “Does ol’ Karl need to perform for little Rose again?” Heisenberg sighed dramatically, “Oh, the things I do for you.”

He turned his body subtly to the kitchen area, holding his hand out and focusing on one of the drawers. It slid open, a few tablespoons floating out from a cutlery tray. Heisenberg pulled his hand back, the spoons floating across to the living area and bringing them to a stop in front of him and Rose. With a simple, slow roll of his wrist, the spoons began to twirl and move in a circular motion above Rose.

Her eyes widened with fascination, the corners of her mouth opening into a gleeful smile. Absently, she reached up with her soft, pink hands and tried to reach for the spoons half-heartedly as they continued their motions. A soft laugh bubbled from her, causing Karl to smile softly.

“He’s a dangerous bioweapon, Ethan. He could hurt Rose!”

Heisenberg managed to hone in on those words; a sharp pain digging into his chest when he realised the implications Chris was trying to make. That Heisenberg was a monster. A bioweapon without feeling. A creature that would kill a child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ethan pointing wordlessly at the soft scene of Heisenberg with Rose in his lap, entertaining her with spoons. That was all he needed to say, really — without even saying it. Even Chris was at a loss for words, and he quietly relented. Ethan was surely in for an afternoon of lectures.

It made Heisenberg smile a little more, turning his head subtly towards Ethan and catching his gaze. It was his quiet way of saying thank you. It went beyond thanking Ethan for trusting him with Rose but thanking Ethan for listening to Heisenberg, taking him into his home and loving him. Even though they’d never spoken those three little words out loud, maybe they didn’t need to. Their actions, affections and closeness spoke those words loud enough.

Truly, after all this time, Heisenberg didn’t think he was capable of ever being loved or trusted. Now that he’d left that horrible life behind, he was now a father, a friend and possibly a lover. The trauma would always remain, yes, like the cadou and the mutations. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy like this, in this simple little life he’d started to build with Ethan.

Maybe it would be okay.

#ethan winters x karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x ethan winters #heisenberg x ethan #heisenwinters #wintersberg #winterberg #karl heisenberg #ethan winters #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil fic #fanfiction #oneshot

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hypnomicimagines · 3 years

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First Time [Iruma Jyuto]

Jyuto knew how to set a romantic mood.

The lighting in his apartment was set low but not too dark, the candles lining the dinner table giving just the right amount of illumination while you sat across from each other. You even teased that he brought out the fancy cutlery for your stay-at-home date, amused at the color tinging his face to say you hit the nail on the head. He normally wouldn’t put so much pomp and circumstance into his own meals but tonight had been a special occasion, and he hadn’t minded getting his hands dirty if it meant making you happy.

He didn’t often cook just for the sake of it with how busy he always was but on special occasions, he found the energy to do so. He had to follow the recipe down to the finest detail as he couldn’t afford to lose face and have to admit to you that he had to order take-out because of his reading comprehension skills. It was a stressful endeavor to keep the food warm until you got there (he started a bit early just in case more time was needed to prepare the meal, but it ended with everything being a bit before you were due to arrive). He was quite proud of his presentation as well and from the sparkle in your eye you were impressed as well, commenting about the perfection he seemed to stress in all areas of his life.

“This is good!” You put another forkful of food in your mouth, smiling as you did so; you knew he must have slaved over a hot stove to make this all for you, so you wanted to show your gratitude. You would’ve been perfectly fine with take-out since the only thing you were seeking from tonight was Jyuto’s company, but to know he went the extra mile for you made warmth spread across your chest.

“That’s good to hear. I’ve never tried this before so it was a toss-up on whether it’d be…edible.”

That wasn’t entirely the truth, he had tried this before but not in the natural course of his life. He had practiced making the meal about four times that week, having it for dinner every day and finding something new he had done wrong. His trial runs had left his stomach a bit upset, the same meal every day was tiresome, but he was dedicated to the cause of showing you a good time. He wouldn’t be cooking a large meal again so soon, or at least he hoped you’d want to do it together as a sort of romantic bonding exercise.

“You did great,” You reassured him, placing your utensils down on your now empty plate. “You always get so stressed out about impressing me. Consider me thoroughly impressed.”

Jyuto hated the way you could see through him yet at the same time he knew he needed a person like that, someone who could call him on his bullshit when he was putting on airs. He would never let you know, of course, sending a coy smile and motioning towards the living room. You listened to the clanking of dishes as Jyuto quickly cleaned up, approaching you with a glass of wine in hand before sitting beside you. The TV stayed on the low as light-hearted chatter took place, allowing you to bond without any distraction. Jyuto had always been the type of person to hate distractions, especially when you were on a date, it was why he liked when the opportunity for at home dates arose. He liked to take you out on the town just as much but it was just all the more personal when you could be close like this.

“You finished your wine. Being an upstanding officer of the law, I can’t allow you to drive yourself home like that.” Jyuto placed your glass beside his empty one, staring at you with a quirked eyebrow. “Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?”

“Hm, more comfortable than your couch? Why, I’d love to.”

You already knew where his bedroom was, you’d been in his house countless times before, staring at it at times when you headed off to the bedroom. You had once been amused at the sight of handcuffs just lying there and he had insisted with tomato red cheeks that they were for on-duty use only. You assumed he just had another set for when it was time to have fun in the bedroom but you didn’t press it, saving it in your arsenal for future flustering purposes.

You playfully fell back on his bed, a hand pressed to your head as you waited for him to join you. He’s fumbling with his tie but trying to act like he’s doing other things, a nervous reaction that has your blood pumping. You removed yourself from his bed (knowing you’d meet it again shortly) and reached up to help him, steadying his hands while doing your best to act like you weren’t paying attention to his face. His lips were parted, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip while you slowly slid his tie off. You grabbed his hands next, holding them up and slowly sliding the leather gloves he always wore off so the beautiful skin underneath could be seen.

Jyuto shuddered as you kissed his fingers, just the reaction you wanted as you continued to kiss each digit until you were satisfied. But something so simple wouldn’t curb his hunger for you for long and he slowly pushed you back towards the bed, waiting for you to fall back with your dramatic flair once more before ‘falling’ on top of you. He hovered over your lips, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitance but there was none to be found.

“Are you going to leave me waiting here all night, officer? I’m looking nice and pretty just for you, so I sure hope something happens before that pager of yours goes off.”

“You are beautiful.” Jyuto seemed breathless, “There’s not a single moment of this that I’m going to rush.”

You were about to say another flirtatious comment but it was your turn to have your breath taken away, Jyuto’s impossibly soft lips brushing briefly against yours to silence you before drifting to your neck. He turned your head to give himself more access, kissing along your jaw as well, lips lingering at the point where he could feel your pulse. You might act as cool and calm as him but it was clear his feelings were returned, that you were as excited for this moment as he was. All those canceled dates, tension filled car rides, apologies and fights, it had all culminated into a relationship he felt was worth dying for.

If you asked him, he thought he really would take a bullet for you.

No need to have such morbid thoughts when the love of his life was laying before him, arching into his touch and moaning for more. His lips locked with yours and it became too hard to pull away even as he slowly stripped you of your clothing, even as you began to unbutton his shirt and tug at his pants. He let out a needy groan as you finally pulled away to get proper air consumption, giggling as he chased after your lips before pouting and fully stripping himself of his shirt. It felt obscene to see his hard dick peeking out from his boxers but you supposed you’d only ever seen Jyuto when he was ‘on’, in professional mode, even when you were on romantic outings together.

But this Jyuto was more vulnerable, quite literally having nothing to hide behind anymore.

It didn’t seem like he minded much.

Your eyes lit up as Jyuto’s hand slipped between your thighs, teasingly rubbing the area around your clit but denying the satisfaction of actual friction. He kissed between your breasts, then the soft skin around your nipples, his finger keeping its slow, steady pace. You had to imagine what this was like for so long yet you were happy to know that your brain had been right about quite a few things, like how talented Jyuto was with his fingers and how lovingly he treated foreplay. He was quite thorough in his exploring of your body, touching every part of your body he could reach, kissing every part of your body that you’d allow him to.

“I’m happy,” You whispered as Jyuto’s forehead rested against yours, a momentary pause. “Thank you for such a wonderful night.”

“I’d give you anything you ask for.”

“That doesn’t count if I’m naked.”

“Put your clothes back on then, and I’ll make sure to keep the same promise.”

“Do you want me to put my clothes back on?”

“…No.”

You laughed into the kiss Jyuto gave you next, spreading your legs to give him more room to settle himself between your thighs. You can feel his dick pressing against you, eager as it’s owner, but you don’t push him to move. You’re enjoying the feeling of him rubbing against your clit, his lips moving to your neck again as he wanted to reassure you were ready for him.

You were ready.

More than ready.

You had waited for this mans dick for so long but your pride wouldn’t allow you to say such a thing, nor would you stroke this mans already large ego. You tried to keep your moans quiet but it was so hard when he knew what he was doing, listening to your body with ease and receptive to all the things that made you feel good. You muffled your groan of pleasure by crushing your lips against Jyuto’s as he pressed inside of you, the sensation of being finally being filled after waiting for so long being a welcoming sensation.

The rest seemed to blend together as Jyuto moved his hips, eyes laser-focused on your face even as you tried to hide from him; it was embarrassing, the way moans kept slipping out with every thrust. You don’t think any man has ever made you feel as good as him, as loved and cherished, and the more you thought about it the more turned on you were. You changed tactics for hiding your face with a nearby pillow to holding Jyuto close, pressing kisses to his shoulder much like he had been doing to you a few moments before.

Jyuto wanted to see you but he’d let it go for now, knowing there would be plenty of time to plead his case when it came to seeing the beauty of your face while he pleasured you. His pace began to quicken and your legs tightened around his waist further, little whimpers slipping past your lips that encouraged him to keep moving at that perfect angle. It’s a battle of wills for who’s going to come first but Jyuto cheated, hand barely capable of slipping between you yet doing so so he could toy with your clit. You tried to call him out on his cheating but your body is in ecstasy as you come, crying out his name and trying to ignore the knowing smirk on his face.

It had been a few hours but it only felt like a few minutes, your naked form staying tangled with Jyuto’s even after he pulled out. It was like a part of you was worried it still wasn’t real, that you were just in bed with the company of your hand and vibrator and not the man you’d loved for nearly a year now. As he reached over to kiss your face again your brain came to terms with that fact your wildest dreams were coming through, you were indeed in bed with the cop that you had a teasingly flirtatious turned real love relationship with.

You should tell him that, tell him that you love him, make it even more real by making that first move but.

“Say it!”

“Say what?” He shot you a coy look, eyebrow raised. “Is there something I should be saying now?”

“There is! I won’t say it first. I refuse! Now hand it over.”

“Or else what? What’ll you do to me if I don’t give you what you want?”

“Oh, so you want another round then? Not until I hear the magic words.”

“Which are…?”

You’d be at it all night, but Jyuto never could deny you.

You just had to be patient.

#Iruma Jyuto #Jyuto Iruma #Hypnosis Mic #Hypnosis Microphone #Hypnosis Mic Imagines #Hypnosis Microphone Imagines #Hypnosis Mic x Reader #Hypnosis Microphone x Reader #Iruma Jyuto x Reader #Scenario #Smut

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midday0nightmares · 3 years

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31 - a week later.

Previous chapter a rat.

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

3 days after.

“Jeno .. can I ask you something?”

“Sure” he replied,

jeno too has changed, he has become more caring towards you like he was stepping to fill jaemins place, while jaemin was occupied.

Jeno was more controlled, he didn’t show much, if you didn’t know what had happen you would have believed everything was fine.

“What’s gonna happen to me if..? You know” ,

you leave the questions unfinished, but jeno understands what you wanted to ask.

His mouth opens to speak but closes shut again, he takes a minute to think before he answers “I don’t know”.

His honesty although appreciated didn’t help at all.

“but, I will do my best to make sure you’er taking care of” he reach to hold your hand over the table, gently squeezing it to reassure you.

5 days after.

You saw less and less of jaemin.

The stress of it all was getting to you too, you were agitated.. you blamed it all on jeno.

“Why don’t you just confess?”,

your question was loaded with hostility.

He looked at you, a desperate look on his face, he told you over and over but still he tells you again,

”it’s complicated sera”.

You scoff, his answer seemed more like an excuse than a genuine answer. “what’s complicated? You did it, you are the one who should be facing life in prison not him” you pointed at jaemin��s closed door.

He exhales, his eyes close “you don’t know what you’er talking about”.

“You killed him!” You contain to argue but he gets up and leave, ending the conversation.

Tears of anger pooled in your eyes, this is another level of injustice.

6 days after.

You were quietly munching on your cereal, jeno sat across form you sipping on his bitter coffee.

The mood was tense, unstable.

The neglected tv flashed a breaking news strip that caught your attention, it was about the murder in a diplomatic’s son house, “turn the volume up” you ushered jeno.

“.. it has been determined that the leased apartment falls under diplomatic amenity and no further investigations could be carried”

You looked at jeno, “dose it mean that they’er closing the case?” You asked, carful not to get your hopes up, he remind quiet for a minute before he nods “ yup, I guess they are”.

You jumped out of your seat, squealing with happiness “yes! Yess thank god” you grabbed his arm to share the joy but he didn’t move.

He wasn’t happy, nor relieved.. he didn’t seems to feel any thing.

You top your small celebration, “what?” You asked.

“Nothing” he stood up ready to leave, “clean up when you’er done”.

he leaves you to your wild thoughts to run the worst case scenarios.

Today

The week slowly rolled over with much tension and uncertainty, jaemin has been called to the police station couple more times, you swear each time he comes back, he has aged years.

You wanted to be by his side but he didn’t even look at you when you tried to call him this morning, if he’s not out then he’s locking himself in his room. you tried knocking on his door, to get him to at least eat a proper meal but he didn’t answer. Each attempt has been met with either complete silence or a sharp temper, he would lash at you then quickly apologize.

This is not how you wanted your first semester to begin, you attended the first week of your online classes but you couldn’t really focus on what has been said, not with a disaster hanging above your head ready to drop at any minute.

And as much as you wanted to blame it all on jeno, you couldn’t anymore. The case is closed, but why is jaemin still being investigated? Could it be because of you? Did the police knew you were taken? Was it your fault?.. you tossed and turned in your bed, it felt cold and empty without him, you missed him so much. After a long string of pillow thoughts, slumber finally took mercy over you.

“y\n..”

An unfamiliar voice calls your name.

“y\n”

the whisper gets louder, your body tip over and fall off of an edge to an endless darkness.. you jerk out of the nightmare, drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

You clam yourself and push the heavy covers off of you, dragging your feet to the kitchen for some water, you don’t bother turning the lights on, you open the fridge door and take a bottle. The icy water clears the clouds in your mind only for the grim reality to take its place, jaemin might be taken away.. you dwell on the scary thought.

You turn your head to see the lights of jaemins room were on, your heart clinches, he’s still awake at this ungodly hour.

Opting not bother him, you head back to your lonely bed, but the dark figure in the balcony almost gave you a heart attack.

You recognize the man, it’s jaemin.. his tall figure was standing in the dark, the phone was pressed to his ear, his demeanor was agitated, shifting his weight form one foot to the other, you couldn’t hear anything but you can tell he wasn’t happy.

You turn to see if jeno was in his room, his lights were off and his shoes were by the door. you always had the impression that they were close, partners in crime. they did all their nasty work together, but why is it only jaemin who is in this mess right now?.

“You can’t be serious !”

Jaemin’s loud voice comes clear through the thick glass, his hand running through his hair seemingly wanting to rip it from the roots out of frustration. You can tell he was angry, desperate.. he keeps shouting but you can’t make out what he was saying. you step closer, as close as you can without being seen by him, you try to decipher his muffled voice,

“I am your son! Your only son”

you’er not sure if that’s what he said..

He speaks in a lower voice before he removes the phone from his ear, ending the call. He punches the wall next to him, he was beyond pissed.

You move to hide behind the curtain to avid angering him more, he opens the door and steps inside slamming the glass door behind him.

“I can see you” he deadpan says in the dark, since there’s no one other than you, he must be talking to you and you make the quick decision of coming out before he losses his temper.

“Im sorry, I had a nightmare and I got up to drink wa..” You try to explain yourself but he waves his hand with not much care “Yeah yeah” and you stop talking.. he walks to his room, the dull city lights illuminating his backside, his shoulders were slumped, his back hunched with heavy burden, the sight of him broken made your heart twist inside your ribcage.

“Jaemin” you call him without a plane, he stops and looks at you, “Are you okay?”, stupid question..

Although it’s dark, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your face.

“Do I look okay?” He retorts,

You answered him with a small “no”

he turns to walk to his room but you speak again, “I can help you if you tell me what wrong”, bold statement.

He stops again and heavy sighs, your heart thumbs in your chest as you wait for him to speak, but all you get was a scoff, “why don’t you just know your place huh?” he asks with much condecindence, although you know he didn’t mean it, his words still hurts.

“Just stay out of my way, you have done enough already” he adds more sharp words, twisting the planted knife in your heart.

“I just wanted to help you and be here for you” your voice breaks and you hate yourself for it, but you chock and the tears starts to gather in your eyes, he huffs and looks up to the ceiling, impatiently waiting for you to recompose yourself. But his cold nonchalant demeanor triggers more eruptions inside of you.

the words escapes your mouth before you have thought of them.. “all I wanted was to help you, but you keep me away form you! you don’t tell me anything, no one is telling me anything! I don’t know what is happing or if I will see you when wake up the next day” you rant through the sobs, your voice getting louder and louder, and when he was fed up with you he shuts you down with a loud scream “shut up”.

Jeno comes out of his room, bewildered and alert.. he stands in the background watching the fight evolves.

“You are not my girlfriend” he walks towards you, making you feel small and insignificant, “I don’t own you anything” his tall stature looms over your short one, that cuts deep.

you look at him, you stare into his eyes, challenging him to take what he said back but he doesn’t.

“Yeah?” Your voice barely comes out, “fine then I guess I have no reason to stay here anymore”. you turn and stomp to where your bed is to collect your few belongings, he follows behind, his steps shaking the ground beneath you.

“where the fuck do you think you’er doing?” He asks but you ignore him, more so you couldn’t speak due to the choking knot in your throat, but your lack or response angers him even more, he grabs your arm and turns you around with much force, that it almost dislocates your shoulder, you whimper at the pain but he doesn’t care, his grip tightening even more, his eyes glazed with a dark, sinister layer.

“Jaemin!” Jeno warns, but it does nothing as another screaming match breaks between you, with him asking you the same question, not really waiting for an answer, and you shouting whatever comes to your mind first, curses, accusation, anything to hurt him. you don’t know who started it first but hands were being thrown, jeno was trying to break you apart, but eventually, jaemin overpowered you and threw you over his shoulder like a rag doll, your kicking and screaming did nothing against him.

“Jaemin” jeno shouted at his friend who was in a trance, muttering the filthiest insults under his breath.

“Where are you going? Jaemin!” jeno tries to reason with him. at this point jaemin was like a robot, marching to his room, he kicks the door to his bedroom open, he slams you to his bed, knocking the wind out of you.

“Jaemin! Calm down” jeno was trying to stop whatever jaemin was doing, he kneels and opens his safe, jeno’s voice getting louder, you were paralyzed with fear everything is happing so fast for your brain to form a response.

Jeno was trying to pry jaemin’s hands out of the safe, “come on! don’t do something you’ll regret”, jeno was almost begging him to stop.

jaemin finally broke out of his trance and turned to jeno “get out!”,

but jeno stood in his place like a pillar, his presence seems to clam jaemin, he takes a deep breath and pushes his hair back “I know what im doing” he speaks calmly this time before he turns back to you, you swallow the thick knot “jaemin please..” pleadings to spare your life were timid but loud enough to be heard, your body crawls as far away from him before the wall stops you.

He kneels down and reaches again inside the safe, for a second the time has stoped, everything moved in slow motion.

He takes out a metal handcuffs out of the safe, the blood that was frozen in your vines moved again, you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding.. jeno does the same “fuck..” he must have thought the same, he too believed jaemin was about to kill you.

Your limbs fell weak and cold due to the withdrawal of the adrenaline that filled your bloodstream, you feel sick, dizzy.

The bed dips under jaemin’s weight next to you, your head falls back into his soft pillows, aimless tears rolls down your temples, you give him your hands to cuff. you are worn out, you surrender.

He takes both of your arms and cuffs them to the headboard of his bed, your eyes meet, you don’t look away and neither does he. He looks down at you.. his eyes pours inside of your soul.

Dark circles beneath his eyes, dry lips, heavy eyelids but still, still handsome as ever. he leans down to kiss your watery eyes, “for my sanity sake” he whispers between the kisses.

He throws his covers over you, and turns the lights off before he leaves and close the door behind him.

#nct dream #nct 127 #nct yandere #nct mafia #nct smut #nct fluff #nct jeno #nct jaemin #nct reactions #nct imagines #nct scenarios #lee jeno #na jaemin

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ghost-ghost-baby · 3 years

Text

We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 5/5

pt 1 / pt 2/ pt 3/pt 4

omegaverse lore

lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

a/n: FINALLY WE DID IT!!! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT ITS 4K WORDS!!!! ENJOY!!! general nsfw hcs will b posted at some point, gonna make a diff taglist for it tho so lemme know if u wanna b on it. Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, untraditional omegaverse roles, gets a bit spicy towards the end

“Okay, so, we’re inviting Kirishima, Sero, Jirou, she’ll wanna bring her mate Yamomo, and Yamomo will wanna bring her bestie Shoto, of course.” you had no idea what Denki and Mina were going on about, you and Izuku were waiting in the park while Katsuki finished up an exam, and the pair had cornered you with plans for your party. Izuku had been extra clingy, he’d held your hand all the way to school, and then inched his seat closer to yours in class so he could keep touching you in any way possible, and now he was practically in your lap, arms possessively wrapped around your waist and his head on your shoulder.

“Uh, okay, I wanna invite Shinso too, I know he’s Mr. Aizawas kid but he’s really nice, oh and Tokoyami, he might wanna bring Tsuyu-“ You were distracted, not that your friends noticed, by Izuku’s arms tightening around your waist, and you only realised he let out a growl because you felt it vibrate from his chest and into his throat. Your friends were still rambling, completely ignoring you and your mate, so you turned to Izuku with a questioning look.

“You okay?”

“I don’t like the way Shinso looks at you, why are you inviting him?” Izuku pouted, and you shook your head, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“Don’t be silly, now Izuku. I’m with you and Katsuki, I’m only inviting him so he can make more friends!” Your answer soothed your mate, although barely, he’d just have to stick to you like glue for the entire party.

“Let’s go, c’mon.” Katsuki pulled Deku up by the back of his shirt, ignoring the omegas cry of protest to offer you a hand, gripping it tighter than usual and pulling you up, wrapping his arm around your waist as soon as you were standing, Izuku grumbling as he made his way to your other side.

“Wow Bakubro- the exam was that bad, huh?” Denki’s question was only met with a growl from Katsuki, and you shushed him before you turned back to your friends.

“Sorry guys but you heard the man! Text me if you need any help with the party but I already told you what I want!” You waved, Denki and Mina waving back from their place on the grass, and you heard them giggle as Katsuki pulled you away, the omegas scent much stronger than usual.

You headed right for the shower when you got home, only stopping to grab a towel, with your mates hot on your heels.

“What’re- what’re you guys doing-?” You were about to start stripping when you noticed them standing in the door, Katsuki with a frown and his arms crossed, Izuku hanging off him with an expression you could only describe as eager.

“You weren’t planning on leaving us, were you?” Izuku pouted, and for a moment you were too shocked to speak.

“I’m just- I’m just having a shower?” You frowned at the pair, and Katsuki let out a growl at your response.

“Why do you have to leave us for it though, we could shower together-“

“Katsuki! Absolutely not! The shower’s barely big enough for one person, no way the three of us are squeezing in there!” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest and staring down your mates. Katsuki was glowering at you, which you were used to, however, you were not used to Izuku’s puppy dog eyes, you never stood a chance against that.

“Fucking fine- you can stay in the bathroom, but if you so much as touch the shower curtain I’m locking myself in my room and not coming out until tomorrow, got it?”

“Yes alpha! Thank you!” Izuku flung himself at you, Katsuki joining less than a second later, at least they weren’t fucking growling at each other anymore.

“I forgot clean clothes, would one of you be okay getting me some? I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.” You almost fell when they pulled away, you didn’t realise how much you’d been leaning on them, and Izuku was answering without hesitation.

“I’ll grab you some of mine!” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he headed off, and Katsuki couldn’t help but let out a growl, quickly following Izuku’s kiss before he went after the other omega.

“Like hell they’re just wearing your clothes!”

The solution was Katsuki’s hoodie, and a pair of Izuku’s shorts, brought to the bathroom in record time, and both omegas looked so proud of themselves for compromising you got distracted showering them in praise and kisses for a good five minutes. Your actual shower was uneventful, although the conversation with your mates made it fly by, and you still made them turn around when you got out to dry off and get changed. Then you were being bombarded with kisses from your mates, and coos of how cute you looked in their clothes had you blushing. Then they’d ushered you to the kitchen, and Katsuki wrapped your arms around him before he started cooking, even nodding at Izuku for him to join, although he ordered the other omega to get him ingredients. Izuku didn’t seem to mind though, and he pressed kisses to your cheeks and lips every chance he got, even daring to press a few daring kisses to Katsuki’s cheek, which merely got a huff instead of the growl it would have in the past.

“You’ve been awfully good today, Kacchan.” You’d taken to calling Katsuki by the nickname, which still got a growl when you used it, but he was so cute when he got grumpy. He couldn’t help but let out a purr at the praise, it rumbled up through his chest and even Katsuki was shocked by how loud it was, he looked like a started cat, and you and Izuku couldn’t help but laugh, something you both got yelled at for.

“Okay guys, I’m gonna turn in for the night.” You yawned, trying to get up but being stopped by Izuku’s arm around your waist. Your movement woke Katsuki up from the doze he’d fallen into after dinner, and his red eyes were sleepily blinking up at you from where his head rested on your lap.

“Zuku? You okay…?” You shot your mate a questioning look, and Izuku bit his lower lip as he thought.

“Yeah, shitty Deku, they wanna go to bed, so do I.” Katsuki was finally coherent, although he made no move to get up.

“I wanna scent you first.”

“Huh- you scented me right after dinner-?” You were confused, and Izuku’s request had Katsuki bolting up and wide awake.

“Yeah but- I don’t know- y-your scent it’s- it’s stronger than- than normal and-and mine just keeps wearing off and- I don’t like it when you don’t- when you don’t smell like me.” Izuku was a blushing mess by the time he finished speaking, he always got that way when scenting came up, and you leant forward to kiss him before you spoke.

“You can scent me as much as you want, but can you do it in bed?” Your question had Izuku’s face going even redder, and the omega was too flustered to speak, which had Katsuki cackling.

“You broke him, Y/n! Apparently scenting in bed is too scandalous for sweet little Deku.” He grinned at Izuku before turning to you, “However, I have no problem scenting you in bed, he’s right about your scent overpowering ours lately.” Katsuki finally sat up, stretching more than he needed to in order to wack Izuku over the head.

“It’s not- not too scandalous-! Y/n, tell Kacchan to stop being mean!” Izuku whined, cuddling close to your side to rest his head on your shoulder and glaring at your other mate.

“Oi! Don’t bring them into this!” Katsuki growled, and Izuku only smirked, maintaining eye contact with the blonde as he leant forward to bite your neck, hard enough it had you yelping and Katsuki snarling as he pulled you to him.

“Hey- guys- what happened to- oh…” You trailed off when Katsuki started kissing from your collar up to your jaw, the blonde smirking at Izuku when you melted against him.

“That’s so not fair-!” Izuku followed, crawling forward until he was basically on your lap and you were trapped between the two of them, with their scents almost overwhelming you. “Y/n, look at me!” You didn’t even realise you’d closed your eyes until Izuku was whining and grabbing your face, green eyes darting to Katsuki still mouthing at your neck before he leant forward and forced his lips to yours, your eyes once again fluttering closed as you reached up to wrap your arms around Izuku’s neck. His lips were always so soft, and he kissed you like you were the only thing keeping him sane. You were brought back to the present when Katsuki bit down right above your scent gland, the pain and the placement clearing your head enough that you could push Izuku off and stagger to your feet, wiping your mouth as you tried to regain control of your breathing.

“B-Bed, guys-“ your head was still foggy, and you shook it to try and clear the haze. It worked, partially, but once it was gone you were so, so tired, you were ready to collapse.

“Look what you did Kacchan- you ruined all the fun.” Izuku pouted, but he was rushing to your side without hesitation, wrapping your arm around him so you had someone to lean on, Katsuki only huffing and joining the two of you a moment later, shoving himself under your arm on your free side.

“If both of you shut the fuck up and take me to bed I’ll still let you scent me, but don’t push it.” You growled before Katsuki could say anything, and both omegas shut right up at your words, bowing their heads as they practically carried you to your room.

You hit the bed with a relieved sigh, already closing your eyes before Katsuki cleared his throat, and you opened one eye to look at him, a moment passing before you realised why both your mates were just standing there staring at you.

“Oh, right, sorry!” You pushed yourself back up, automatically baring your neck and almost giving your mates an aneurism at the sight of you. Katsuki all but jumped on you in his eagerness, quickly smothering your startled noises with a kiss before he rubbed his wrist on his own neck and then rubbed his wrist over almost every inch of you, until you were completely covered in the smell of caramel.

“Don’t hog them!” Izuku was next to you just as Katsuki finished, and he shoved Katsuki out of the way so he could proceed to scent you too, although he chose to rub his scent gland directly over yours first, and you almost pulled back with a yelp from how intense it was. You somehow held it together until Izuku was satisfied that his and Katsuki’s scents were even, although the omega took over ten minutes, thankfully for most of it he was doing the same as Katsuki, but your eyes were still drooping closed by the end, and you would have fallen back if Katsuki hadn’t moved behind you to help prop you up, his arms wrapped low around your waist.

“Are you almost done, Deku? They’re practically asleep in my lap.” You could hear the smirk in his voice even if you couldn’t see him, and Izuku only huffed in response, although his eyes softened when you offered him a sleepy half smile. You looked so sweet, eyes lidded and face flushed, was this what you’d look like when-

“Oi! I asked you a question.” Katsuki leant forward to shove Izuku, and that snapped the omega out of his… more unsavoury thoughts.

“Sorry Kacchan! Y/n’s just so cute when they’re all soft and pliable like this, I got distracted!” Izuku grinned, quickly leaning forward to kiss you before Katsuki could yell, and you did your best to kiss your mate back despite your half asleep state. You didn’t want to pull away, but Katsuki didn’t have an issue breaking the two of you up, something you were thankful for, in that moment at least.

“Enough getting distracted, they need sleep.” The blonde manoeuvred you so you were laying down facing him, and Izuku let out a huff as he followed suit, mumbling something about how Kacchan always ruined his fun. You shushed both of them before Katsuki could reply, tugging the blonde closer for a kiss to stop him grumbling, then you were grabbing Izuku’s hands, pressing your head to Katsuki’s chest, and finally falling asleep.

You woke up covered in sweat, the hoodie you’d worn to bed now feeling like it was suffocating you combined with the heat your mates gave off, and you gently slipped out of bed, throwing the hoodie off and letting out a sigh of relief when you were just in a tank top. You still had twenty minutes before you needed to get up, and you turned to wake your mates, only to slap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself squeaking. Neither of them had woken up despite you moving, but Izuku must have moved closer to Katsuki in his sleep, and the two of them were cuddling, with Izuku’s head nestled against Katsuki’s chest. You quickly grabbed your phone, making sure it was on silent mode, before you proceeded to take a rather excessive amount of pictures of your mates. Then, still being as quiet as you could, you made your way out of the room and into the kitchen. You made yourself a coffee and a bowl of cereal, taking a seat at the counter before you opened your messages, quickly finding the group chat with Mina and Denki, and sending through one of the pictures. The response was instant, Mina going into all caps to scream about how cute it was, and Denki sent through a spam of keyboard smashes, also in all caps. You kept chatting to them while you finished your breakfast, but a yell from your room had you texting them goodbye and putting your phone down. Any minute now.

“Get the fuck away from me, Deku!”

“I was asleep, Kacchan, it wasn’t my fault! You’re the one that did this to me!”

“I thought you were Y/n, stop following me!”

“I’m not following you, I’m trying to find-“

“Y/n!”

“Y/n! Kacchan is being mean again!” Your mates turned the corner into the kitchen, Izuku sprinting to your side, and your eyes widened at the mark on his neck.

“Damn, what happened?” Izuku wrapped his arms around your waist, whining until you bared your neck for him so he could rub his cheek over your scent gland.

“I was just sleeping, alpha! And then Kacchan bit me!” Izuku whined against your neck, and you cooed as you reached up to play with his hair, calmly brushing through the curls and turning your gaze to Katsuki with raised eyebrows. At least the blonde looked sheepish, and he reached up to scratch the back of his neck before he answered you.

“You’re usually the one in front of me, how the fuck was I supposed to know it was shitty Deku. When did you even leave, huh? You’re meant to wake me up.” Katsuki growled, and you sighed and shook your head, he really couldn’t take the blame for anything, huh? Still, you gestured for him to join the hug, which he happily did, and you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I know you were expecting me, Katsuki, but you really uh- gave Izuku a shock, can you apologise? For me?” You cooed, only getting a growl in response, so you pulled away with a sigh, Izuku whining in protest at the loss of contact.

“Katsuki-“

“Fine. Sorry for biting you, Deku, even though it was your fault for cuddling me.” The blonde growled, but you weren’t going to get any better, and Izuku seemed happy enough, by the way he was hugging Katsuki.

“See, there we go! Izuku and I gotta get ready for class now!” Your words had both of them turning to you with a growl, and you could only look at them in confusion.

“We’re not going to class today, Y/n.” Izuku pulled away from Katsuki to look at you, and you were cut off before you could ask why.

“Yeah, your birthday’s tomorrow and you fucking reek, no way you’re leaving the apartment.” Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest, and you grabbed your phone with a rather dramatic sigh.

“Fine, guess I’m stuck here with you idiots.”

You’d gotten yelled at for that remark, and Katsuki was still sulking when he pulled away to go and shower, Izuku tugging you to the couch the second Katsuki was out of view.

“You still wanna scent me? We’re not leaving the house-“ Izuku kissed you to cut you off, and all thoughts went out the window as you kissed him back, letting him lay you down on the couch and pin you under him with his weight. Your head tilted back when Izuku pulled away to kiss down your jaw and neck, your hands automatically tangling in his hair to tug him closer, and Izuku let out a whine that had your scent going haywire. He kept going down, peppering kisses and sucking marks over your collarbone before he moved to your chest, and you briefly wondered where he was going with this, but then Izuku was lifting your shirt up for better access. He stayed at your chest for a few more minutes before he continued, pressing kisses to your ribs and stomach, and your heart was in your throat as he reached your hip, but then the omega just, stopped, resting his head on your hip and just gazing at you from between your thighs.

“You’re so pretty when you’re all hot and bothered like this, alpha! Are you disappointed that I stopped?” Izuku chirped, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, and you were quickly grabbing a pillow to cover your rapidly growing blush, while Izuku just looked at you and giggled.

“Kacchan! Pass that shirt to me when you’re done!” Izuku was seated on the bed, casually scenting anything Katsuki had scented and thrown his way, as if this was the most normal occurrence ever. And it almost was, except for the fact you were stuck in the middle of the bed, getting growled at if you so much as shifted your position. They wanted to ‘build the nest around you’ apparently, which was something you’d never heard of, but you weren’t going to argue with your birthday a mere day away, Katsuki and Izuku had been… on edge lately.

“Arms please!” Izuku’s chirp broke you out of your thoughts, and you hesitantly held out your arms, although you got the message when Izuku leaned back against you, and you were wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder without a second thought. A shirt was hitting you in the face seconds later, and you yelped at the impact, throwing the shirt right back at Katsuki.

“What was that for!” He snarled, throwing the shirt back at you and huffing when Izuku caught it, although both of your moods improved when he let out a happy hum and proceeded to scent the material before gently folding it and placing it on the bed. You couldn’t resist sticking your tongue out at Katsuki from where you were stuck behind Izuku and the blonde only grumbled as he got back to grabbing bedding from the cupboard you had especially for when he nested. He was… more subdued, than normal. He didn’t growl when Izuku kissed him, and you’d actually caught them cuddling on the couch when you came back from the shower. The lack of bickering was a breath of fresh air, and you couldn’t resist pulling Katsuki in for a kiss when he came to dump more material on the bed. He let out a grunt when you tugged him down, the blonde almost falling on the bed, his arms going either side of of Izuku, who took the opportunity to kiss whatever part of Katsuki’s neck he could. You were the one that had to push him away, and Katsuki growled at you when he lost contact, which caused you to flick his forehead and click your tongue, but Katsuki just pouted and got back to scenting the fabric. See what you meant? You’d be worried if his scent wasn’t so… content.

Movement next to you woke you up, and Katsuki came into focus above you as you blinked away the sleep.

“Good, you’re awake.” The blonde nuzzled into your neck and you tilted your head to the side for him, sleep still heavily clouding your mind so you couldn’t made sense of anything.

“Why am- why am I awake…?” You mumbled, too tired to stop yourself letting out a little moan when Katsuki pressed a kiss to your neck, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

“Your rut’s started, dumbass.”

“Mmmm? I don’t feel… any different… just kinda hot…. You smell really, really good, Katsuki…” Your hands went to his hips, and Katsuki let out an exasperated sigh, resting his forehead on the pillow next to you before he answered.

“God you’re so fucking stupid, that’s my heat, idiot, it woke me up. Deku’s started too but he’s still asleep, so I thought I’d wake you up now, I want to get something straight, okay alpha?” He went back to kissing your neck between words, and you only hummed in response, nodding as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Good, now listen, okay? I was here first, I want to fuck you first, and I want to mark you first too, okay alpha?” His teeth grazed your skin and you whined, your fingers digging into the blondes hips, and you let out a whimper when he bit down, almost breaking the skin.

“Of course, Katsuki- you’ve been so good of course you can…”

“Say it, I wanna hear you say it, alpha.” Katsuki pulled back, bracing his arms and caging you in so you couldn’t look anywhere but his face, and a blush spread over yours in response.

“You can- you can fuck me first, Katsuki-“ you barely finished the sentence before he was kissing you, nipping your bottom lip before he pulled off, his breathing heavier than it was before.

“Good, now, I guess we better wake shitty Deku up.”

The throbbing from both sides of your neck woke you up this time, and you groaned as you tried to move your neck, slowly coming around to your surroundings. You were on your back, with Katsuki’s head on your chest and Izuku’s on your stomach. When you finally sat up slightly, (you didn’t want to wake them) pride flashed through you at the site of the fresh bonding marks, and you couldn’t stop yourself letting out a happy purr. Unfortunately, your back was killing you- so you gently shimmied out of bed, pulling the blankets back over the sleeping pair before you turned to the cupboard to get yourself a shirt. Fuck, your neck was still killing you, maybe icing it would help? You couldn’t help the pained hiss that escaped you when you pulled the shirt over your head, still knocking the bites despite your best efforts to be gentle.

“Y/n…? What the fuck are you doing?” Katsuki rubbed his eyes as he sat up, his abrupt movement waking Izuku, who let out a huff at his sleep being interrupted.

“Neck hurts, I was gonna try and ice it.” You looked at yourself in the mirror, no wonder you were in so much pain-

Your neck and shoulders were littered with bites and hickies, some of them rivalling the bonding bites with how deep they were, you probably needed to do more than ice it.

“Oh, right, Deku got carried away.” The blonde let out a groan as he stretched, and when you turned back to them you weren’t surprised to see Izuku pouting.

“You got just as carried away, Kacchan! Don’t try to blame it all on me!” Izuku hopped out of bed despite his half asleep state, shuffling to your side and pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he cuddled under your arms, possessively wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Tch, whatever Deku, just take them to the kitchen to get some ice, I’ll check to see if we have witch hazel or arnica to help with the healing.”

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#omegaversse #reader insert #bnha omegaverse #bnha x reader #alpha reader #abo #omegaverse x reader #poly #poly fic #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku x reader #bakugo x reader #deku x reader

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Smooth as the nine realms

loki laufeyson x reader / masterlist

summary; the midguardian lifestyle is strange, but there is an aspect of it that loki is definitely not accustomed to, and he’s conflicted about whether he likes it or not / warnings; smut, talk about pubic hair, or lack of, oral sex (female receiving)

kicking off your leggings, you abolished them to the other side of the room, straddling loki as he abandoned his book, caring not that the pair of you were in the middle of the common room, nor the fact that he had lost his page. it had been a few months since loki had been forced to join the avengers on their next quest, thor had practically dragged him towards the bifrost.

but now, he didn’t mind earth so much. sometimes it could be quiet, that was when all members of the team were away on missions, and thor allowed him to be by himself. this though, the way you, an average, world protecting midguardian straddled him, after stripping out of your top and bra, in the middle of a public sector of the domain, was something that he sure as valhalla had no mind about.

in fact, he rather enjoyed the way that your hands roughed down the points of his shoulders, and trailed down his biceps, that were underrated, especially in comparison to his brother’s. the two of you had been playing a game since he attacked the planet, it was a chase of cat and mouse.

at first, he had envisioned you to be the mouse, but you no longer seemed meek and small any longer. instead, you were the feline that was cosying herself upon the perch of his royal lap, descending her grounding hips over the throne of his pelvis.

“what is it trickster, cat got your tongue?” you seemed rather confident with the way that his eyes remained glue to your mound, he realised that must have been quite a complimentary action for a mortal man to show to his partner.

to be truthful, it felt as though all speech was parched from his mouth, he had knowingly waited for this instance where you would deliberately rut yourself against him; like heimdall, he had a vision of the future delved in the reverse side of his eyes, though, his reaction was the most unexpected thing that he could had intended to paraphrase.

he trailed his hand over your mound, through the fabric of underwear, watching mercilessly as you bucked into his hand. midguardians were something else, they weren’t as sensual as others he had been with concerning their sexuality, in fact, as it appeared, some were desperate.

you were rutting in his grip, though he applied a stern hold unto them, forcing you to stop your ravenous movements, and pose stilly for the god beneath you. he gently, which was a surprise to you with how tender and kind his eyes had become, laid you down on the couch that stark has paid a pretty penny for, exchanging your positions so that you were the one under his demeanour.

“do something.” you eagerly insisted, lacing your mortal fingers through his midnight locks, tugging gently at his dark roots. a glassy encasement covered his eyes as he stared up at you, it was a mess to place the expression that was carried within them, gods were difficult, that much was clear. though, you weren’t seeking anything particularly intimate with the company of one, this had been inevitable though.

it had been like a kettle brewing, screeching like an applause when the pair of you had finally gotten to the point of no return. this was it, there were no divine interventions or avenging interruptions to discard this moment, instead you and loki were thrown this coin toss, given your desires in the aura of a wish fountain.

“humans.” his voice prowled, making bumps appear on your skin, as he blew a swift succession of cold air across your stomach, it sending a blizzard of coolness up the paving of your chest, making your nipples undeniably hard, their stiff peaks that beaded under his breath were almost painful as they stood obediently to attention. “always so demanding, why can’t your kind beg for a change, i know that would appease my hunger?”

“oh loki, please.” your tone was severely monotone, and caused the mischievous lord to roll his gemstone eyes, rendering their spheric pupils to glare in amusedly at you, though, he tugged your panties down, the sight leaving him breathless. he was enraptured with the sight, perplexed by it as his emerald eyes stared up at you for an explanation. though, you were not sure what he was expecting from you.

his throat dry, as for once, he was not able to comprehend the situation. his silver tongue had gotten lost, obstructed as he grew distracted by the visual that he was receiving. it was a cunt, he knew that much, but there was someone uniquely different about it, he’d assume it was scalped if her were to make verbal predictions. “what is this?”

“my attempts at deflating your ego. i am not going to beg for you to do something to me, i can easily find someone else.” you rested your head back, digging the crown of it further into the end of the couch, as you parted your legs a little further to resend an invitation for him to proceed.

“not that...” loki revealed, paving his icy hands up the roads of your thighs, letting his forefinger brush over your pubic mound, it was like the bifrost, a smooth pathing to a transportation of depth, one that he wished to investigate, though he was still stricken by the eventing shock that pulsed within his golden veins. he had always been a curious child, and he remained to be as keen to know all now, at centuries upon centuries old.

“have you never seen a vagina before?” you huffed, wanting him to do nothing more than devour your cunt, stabbing you with his vigilant tongue so that he could curl crude and priceless sounds out of your mouth. if anyone knew that you were about to participate in intercourse with the destructive, slippery handed body, they would surely judge you.

but they didn’t, and even if that were not the case, you wouldn’t care. your mind was far too preoccupied with the growing inclination to jump the god’s elegantly crafted bones, bury for now you, remained still, allowing him to assert his comfort within the situation. “what’s wrong?” this time, he answered you, looking almost like a dear kitten that was plodding through the bustling streets, seeking out attention from a kind citizen, having hopes to be taken to a home, and fed well.

“why-,” he cleared his throat, he never came across as this nervous to anyone, it was as though he feared what you may think of him if he were to speak his mind. “why don’t you have hair- here?” he stroked the pad of his thumb over the flat and bare crest, finding it to be one of the most peculiar things regarding humans that he had ever witnessed.

“because i shave.” it was a simple answer, whilst all while being not as direct as the god was hoping for. “it’s kinda a thing down here, some people let it grow out, others don’t. it’s whatever picks their fancy, and a lot of people, like me, shave so intimate partners don’t get grossed out. some guys are dicks and hate everything that is natural.”

“well i’d still be reaped with great, reprised regret, if i were to reform the idea of giving you satisfaction if you were to have a natural slate sheathing around your sweet cunt.” he inhaled, making your muscles wither with succumbed arousal. the god could smell your distinct scent of attraction towards him, and he was visually compelled by the aroma that invaded his senses.

loki, without warning, placed his palm over your clean shaven mound, holding you down as his tongue worked against your tender flesh, stroking it as though he bore a hand of intricacy, sketching out every detail of your skin, plucking the outer labia into the hatch of his often deceiving mouth. he had to admit, in his mind of course, he liked the access that he was granted by this strange human lifestyle.

the idea of pubic hair was one of parts of a woman’s body that usually fuelled the immortal man, however if you didn’t want to bear its follicles on your skin, then that was to it choice. he wouldn’t judge you for it, although he happened to judge midguardians on everything. you were different from the others though, despite sometimes bickering, and making stabbing jokes towards one another, he rather enjoyed your presence.

with you nearby, he finally felt seen. he was not only the immortal that had prided himself with almost crushing an entire mortal city, no. you saw through that, understanding that he was definitely not in his own mindset, he had been controlled. it was never in his plans to venture to midguard, even if it was to cause a ruckus. but now with you, he never wanted to leave.

despite your optimal obligations regarding the team, and villains much like himself, he felt accepted. thor too appreciated him, but that was far different, there had always been a means of competition between the brother, with you, that regard was not present. he could be himself, and appreciate your side silhouette, and demand the agents that passed by with wandering eyes with threats if they did not continue walking.

now that he thought about that, as he engorged on the taste of your cunt, sliding a prying finger through the door of your entrance, fumbling your clit with his bewitched thumb, he realised something. a great surprise to himself. he indeed cared about you, but far more than he had ever anticipated to. his fingers slowed as he became mesmerised with every small noise that projected from your mouth, wanting to drag this instance out for as long as possible.

not only did his self realisation show him that he found some calm in your lasting presence, but he had feelings. usually he blocked off such things, but the heavenly expression that illustrated itself upon your face had him inwardly swooning. he felt you comb your fingers through his locks, and he hummed. he wanted this moment to last forever, in it, he was not a god, nor an infamous trickster.

he was just a man swarming with irregular emotions towards a woman, a being of optimistic resort; if things were as simple, or if he understood as well, he’d ask to take you for dinner. but he didn’t know where to start with that, not only did he have a lack of wisdom when it came to human restaurants, but he had no clue as to how you would respond. he didn’t even think that you saw him as a suitor, he was simply a deliverer of teasing and now pleasure.

“fuck loki.” the mortal swear sounded like a spell, making his body overbear itself with a proud sensation as he pushed you over the edge, removing his fingers only for you to bring them to your own mouth and clean them off. “holy shit, that was so good. maybe i should have started with gods years ago.”

inherently the mischief source growled, his mind instantly going over to the idea of you choosing his brother; everyone did, they had a strong preference. from his family to his old friends, they all liked thor more, and that was how his resentment towards his brother had originally stemmed. he felt like an outcast, and from that reminded alone, conjoined with your interest towards his brother, he felt his eyes grow glassy.

“go to him. i’m sure thor would appreciate your partnership.” yes, he was acting like a sulking toddler, and it had your brow bone raising as you took in his words. it was his clap back response, and you grasped him, stopping him from leaning the room. you felt slightly vulnerable, being in the nude after such a small lash, but you knew something was bothering loki, and it was clear to what that was.

“i do not want your brother loki, nor any other god.” your voice bit back a strain to its tone, as you stared at the man, standing in your birthday suit before him. your hands splayed on his chest, feeling his heart through his attire viscosity beating. “there is no need to be jealous, it feels like we’ve playing this game for so long, and i intend for it to be over. i will be the first to admit it, i want you, all of you. from the dark corners to the hopeful light in your eyes.”

loki was astounded, nobody had ever been so straight forward with him. despite being the god of mischief, the half of the time it was him whom was the victim of lies. “you don’t mean that.” his hands lightly traced every dip in your hips as he searched your expression for certainty. “nobody wants me, i am the monster that had tales spread to fear the children of my people of a night. there is nowhere i belong, nor anybody whom i belong with.”

“that may be your mindset, or the one that you are speaking, but you are lying to yourself. i do want you loki odinson, please accept that.” he gulped, nobody had ever had he guts to tell him how it was, and here you were, simply speaking your mind before him. it was an admirable feature, something that he deemed to be a favourable quality. “now i think i’m gonna get dressed and head to my room, i am feeling a bit cold. come find me when you feel like admitting the truth to yourself, i’ll be waiting.”

as you went to turn, loki grasped your elbow, hushing your questions with his mouth, as he clutched your cheeks, passionately endorsing you in a meaningful kiss. he walked you backwards, until the pair of you once again fell onto the furniture. “you don’t have to wait y/n, because i do not want to.” he ushered pecks down your neck, as you grew warm from the disappearance of his usual cockiness, it being replaced with true confidence, that served as a show for no one, and instead was his own admittance to all.

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Note

steve getting caught in the rain on the way home from work and barging through the front door bangs dripping and cheeks pink and bucky looking up from his spot on the sofa with alpine and thinking i’m fucked

so it's like 1 am and this was going to be something chaotic and smutty but it ended up being a view of steve's pain from the eyes of bucky

oop anway:

In From the Cold

From Stevie: Left my key at home. Can you let me in?

Bucky gets the text right before there’s a knock at the front door, and he presses to his feet, shifting Alpine off his lap. It takes a moment to undo all the latches and locks, and by the time he does, Steve has knocked again-- sharper. Frantic. Bucky frowns and opens the door.

“Shit, Steve,” he says, and steps to the side to let Steve in past him.

He’s soaked, straight through to his skin. His hair is plastered to his forehead, clumped and stiff with sleet. His nose and cheeks are bright against his otherwise pale skin, and his lips are a tad blue.

He’s shaking. Hard.

It’s then that Bucky realizes that sleet is coming down outside, the sky blanketed a gloomy grey. The storm had been on the radar, but somehow he’d forgotten about it. Steve, it seemed, had forgotten as well when he’d left for his meeting that morning.

“Yeah,” Steve says, taking off his jacket. His movements are stiff and Bucky reaches out a hand, taking the soaked jacket from him before he can hang it on its hook. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Go ahead and take off the rest of your clothes. I’ll throw them in the wash. Do you want a bath?”

Steve swallows, a shudder running visibly through him and Bucky doesn’t need a psych degree to guess what’s going on. Between the wet and the cold, this is hardly Steve’s preferred state to be in. There’s a vacancy in his eyes that makes Bucky’s blood run cold.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yes. Please.”

Bucky’s blood runs cold as a cough wracks Steve’s body, and he instinctively listens for a rattle in his lungs. The cough is not dry, though. Silver linings.

His hair is plastered to his forehead, and Bucky curses, reaching out to usher Steve inside. His clothes are soaked and sticking to his frame, hugging him in a way that seems to accentuate his size. Make him look even smaller. He coughs again.

“Jesus, you got a death wish?” Bucky hisses, hands working to unbutton Steve’s shirt-- get the wet fabric off, because it’s going to make him sick and Steve just got over his last fucking cold.

Steve bats his hand away, leveling him with a glare.

“No, shut up,” he says, and the harshness is dampened by the chattering of his teeth. He unbuttons his own shirt and tosses it aside, the bruises on his collarbone from a work mishap earlier that week stark and purple. Bucky wants to reach out and soothe his fingers over them-- kiss them away.

Instead, he goes to his closet and pulls out a clean shirt and some boxer shorts that will be too big on Steve, but at least they’re warm.

“I thought you were seeing your ma,” Bucky says, handing Steve the clothes. Steve strips naked right there in their hallway. He’s unabashed and it makes the lithe lines of his body all the more beautiful.

“I was,” Steve says. It’s clipped and Bucky’s gut twinges. Sarah had gotten sick a week or so ago-- an awful, wracking cough. Bucky had hoped, fucking prayed that it wasn’t the worst. But Sarah worked in a TB ward, and life didn’t seem so kind to the Rogers family. “They wouldn’t let me in.”

“Shit,” Bucky says.

Steve is dressed now, Bucky’s boxers barely clinging to his hips. He sits down on Bucky’s bed, and Bucky sits, too.

“Yeah,” Steve says, and he’s holding himself so tightly that Bucky’s afraid he might snap.

Steve holds himself tightly as he sits on the edge of the tub, his eyes on the rising water level, but mind clearly elsewhere. Bucky watches him for a moment as he returns from the laundry room-- watches his chest heave and hands tremble.

He is naked where he sits, and the way he hunches in on himself makes him look smaller. Bucky’s chest aches and he desperately wishes he could reach out and break the spell-- break the hold Steve’s mind seems to have on him right now. But he knows a thing or two about triggers, and he may not know what happened when Steve crashed that plane-- not details anyhow-- but he knows damn well that Steve still isn’t healed from that particular wound. It will likely follow him to his real grave. The pain. The fear. The damning finality of it.

And it seems like a final damnation. One not so beautiful as the perdition that was Steve taking Bucky into his body. But a much starker one. As unforgiving as a son losing his mother can be when he’s already lost his father. Steve says he hadn’t cared much when Joseph finally died-- his own faults pulling him under the current. But there’s a shame there that he can’t seem to quell. Regret that runs in the tightness of his eyes, smoldering and masked by a harshness that doesn’t fit the gentleness that is the skin of Steve Rogers. The soul and bones that are so hurt by a world keen on hurting them.

There’s a grief that wants to rise in Bucky’s own chest. Sarah doesn’t deserve this-- he wishes he could change it. Make it untrue. Make it better.

But he can deal with his own shit later. Right now, Steve is hurting and Bucky needs to coax him out of his shell. Lance some of that pain.

His hair is still dripping from the storm outside and Bucky reaches out, brushes his fingers through the sopping strands. Steve looks at him, eyes hollow and shining-- a strange dichotomy.

“Let me run you a bath?”

Steve sinks into the bath water, eyes closed as his chest hitches and stutters. He sinks down until the water covers his chest, stops at his chin. And it would be an endearing sight if he didn’t look so damn troubled.

Bucky hesitates.

“Do you want me here? Or would you rather be alone.”

Please God, he thinks. Please let me in. Let me stay. Let me shoulder some of your pain.

Steve’s jaw shifts, then clenches. He battles with himself, caught between the draw of comfort and his own internal walls telling him to close the gates.

Bucky waits.

“Can you wash my hair?” Steve eventually asks.

Bucky smiles. “Of course, pal.”

Bucky takes off his shirt so it won’t get wet and kneels by the edge of the tub. Steve leans back to wet his hair. It seems like instinct more than anything. His hair was already pretty damn wet. Bucky picks up the shampoo-- half empty and a little crusted around the cap-- and squirts some out onto his palm.

Lathering it up, he leans closer.

“Ready?”

“Mhm.”

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.”

Steve closes his eyes and Bucky begins to work the shampoo into his hair, pressing his fingers into his scalp, around his temples. Tension seems to ebb out of Steve in increments and Bucky is hopeful for a moment that he’s leaching out some of the shock.

And he must have taken away the numbness, because then Steve is sobbing, and Bucky is cursing softly as he strips out of the rest of his clothes, climbing into the tub behind Steve. He rinses his hair, and doesn’t bother with soft nothings. Because it isn’t okay. And Steve doesn’t deserve dismissal like that.

Instead, he pulls him close and buries his nose in his hair.

With practiced hands, Bucky works his coconut shampoo into Steve’s hair. It’s his favorite even if he won’t admit it and never buys it for himself. That’s alright, though. Bucky doesn’t mind sharing.

He feels Steve’s skin warm up-- rinses his hair with rhythmic and soothing touches, skittering his hands down Steve’s shoulders and across his chest as he goes, aiming to ground him. But Steve is not speaking and he is still shaking.

“Steve?” Bucky prompts gently.

Steve looks at him, gaze darting to his eyes, then his cheek, fixating there. A shudder rolls through him and he goes impossibly more pale.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Steve,” Bucky says again, alarmed, and then Steve’s chest is heaving as his breaths start to speed up. “Shit.”

Bucky strips off his clothes, and climbs into the tub with Steve, keeping a hand on him as he sinks into the water.

“Can I hold you?” he asks, and Steve manages a nod. He’s going to hyperventilate if they don’t get a hold of this now. Bucky pulls Steve back against his chest and buries his nose in his hair. “Breathe with me. Just feel me, Steve. Just feel me and breathe.”

Steve does.

Steve is worn out by the time they’re settling in bed, and Bucky shifts him so his head is on his chest. They’re quiet for a long time, watching the sun set, shadows moving across the ceiling.

“I’m scared,” Steve says, his voice hoarse from crying.

Bucky tenses. “I know.”

“I don’t want to lose her.”

Bucky closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

There isn’t anything for it. Bucky wants to promise that he won’t leave. That he’ll be there, but Steve knows that and reiterating it will only exacerbate the pain of those who can’t be there for him.

“I’m so tired,” Steve whimpers.

“I’m so fucking tired of this,” Steve says as he comes down, voice tight and teeth chattering. At least he’s breathing on his own now.

Then rest, Bucky wants to say. Come in from the cold. Let us help. Let people help.

“I know,” he says instead. “I know, honey. But you did so good just now.”

Steve shrugs. “Can we get out?”

“Sure thing.”

They dry off together, and settle into bed, naked still and wrapped up in each other. Steve settles on his chest, head tucked under Bucky’s chin. An age old position-- Steve will always fit right in Bucky’s arms.

Steve falls asleep with his hand clinging to Bucky’s. He usually looks more peaceful when he is resting, but now his mouth is turned down-- the lines of his face seem to deepen. He looks much older than he actually is, but Bucky has always sort of thought that. Steve, he thinks, has had to grow up too fast.

There’s a moment where Steve seems to drift awake, eyes opening then shutting again. He makes a soft noise and shifts closer to Bucky.

Bucky holds him and prays he feels held.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky asks.

“No,” Steve says. It was worth a shot.

“Okay,” Bucky says. “Can I do anything?”

Steve swallows, arms tightening around Bucky’s middle. “Just hold me?”

“Of course,” Bucky says, and he hitches Steve closer, kisses the top of his head.

“This helps,” Steve whispers, and Bucky holds his breath. “You holding me. It feels safe.”

“I’m so glad,” Bucky says. His throat feels tight and he ducks his head to kiss Steve’s temple. It settles something in him, knowing Steve feels safe in his arms. “I’ll always hold you.”

thanks for reading, chiefs!

#this is largely unedited because it is late so sorry for any mistakes #stucky #stucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #i have so many wips i should be working on instead oops #anyway cass this was wonderful thank you

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thepremedthatwrites · 3 years

Text

Reflection

request: hi can i request a edmund pevensie oneshot where the reader is self conscious when a princess from a neighbouring kingdom visits. and edmund has to reassure that he stills loves the reader. smut or no smut is okay, too ❤

I’m sorry for not posting last week! I was busy packing everything and moving into my college dorm but now that I’m finished with that, I should be back to my regular posting schedule!

warning: smut below the cut

I looked her up and down. Her golden locks tumbled past her shoulders, her full lips painted a soft red curling up into a smile as she laughed at a joke Edmund had said. I took a sip of my wine, hoping that the others would write off my red face as a side effect of the alcohol. “I had no idea the royals of Narnia would be as funny and handsome as they are,” the princess said, her eyes flashing to Edmund as she spoke.

“You are too kind,” Edmund replied, smiling back at her. I frowned into my cup. Had Edmund ever looked at me the way he looked at her? The others kept talking but I focused on how the princess interacted with Edmund. She leaned in towards him, always sneaking a look at him when she thought nobody was watching. I wasn’t surprised that Edmund was so attentive to her. She was gorgeous, her body the definition of hourglass-shaped. Her face was soft and angelic, matching her voice which sounded like an angel.

“If I may excuse myself,” I said, already getting up. “I will be retiring for the night.”

“Are you sure, (y/n)?” Edmund asked, his eyebrows scrunching in concern. “It’s still quite early into the evening.”

“Yes,” I said, almost too quickly. “I don’t feel that well.” And with that, I exited the room and made my way to my bedroom. I stared at my reflection, frowning at it. Unlike the princess’s flawless skin, I had a slight scar just below my right eye from battle. My body was far from that of a goddess. I was, for a lack of better words, plain. I let out a sigh, already regretting leaving the room. The princess was most likely on top of Edmund now that I wasn’t there to regulate.

I had started to untie the strings of my dress when I heard my bedroom door being opened. I looked up to see Edmund. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned, closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, just tired,” I lied. As I looked into Edmund’s face, I could tell he didn’t believe me.

“Is it because of Diane?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You became unusually quiet as soon as she entered the room.”

“Do you think she’s pretty?” We stood there in silence, my question lingering in the air.

“Is that what this is about? Are you jealous?”

“No,” I said, my voice much more sure than expected. I wasn’t jealous. I knew that Edmund would never leave me for anyone. So then why did I feel sick to my stomach whenever she entered the room? “It’s just, she’s gorgeous. And I’m not. You deserve someone like her. Not someone like me.”

“Do you seriously think that?” Edmund’s face was filled with disbelief. I nodded my head. He let out an incredulous laugh. “You are the most beautiful lady I have ever laid eyes on. Diane is nowhere near your beauty. Do you understand?” I stayed silent as Edmund made his way to me. “Understand?” he asked, his voice much softer than before.

“It’s just,” I started. Edmund cut me off with a kiss and in that moment, I forgot all about my insecurities as I got lost in the feeling of his lips on mine. He slowly pulled away, his eyes looking into mine.

“You’re gorgeous (y/n),” he said, tucking a strand of (h/c) hair behind my ear.

“You’re just saying that because you have to.” Edmund stood in silence, his lips pressed together as his mind worked to create a plan. He made his way to the mirror that stood in the corner of the room. He picked it up before setting it at the foot of my bed.

“Ed, what in the world are you doing?”

“I’m going to show you how beautiful you are,” he said, already untying the rest of the strings on my dress. A shiver went down my spine as the cool air caressed my now bare skin. Edmund led me to the bed, propping himself behind me and making us face the mirror. He buried his face into my neck, leaving small kisses in the wake of his mouth and nipping at the skin every now and then. I let out a gasp, my head falling back to allow him more access.

“Look into the mirror,” he whispered into my ear.

“Edmund, what are you-”

“Just look.” I obeyed, looking into the reflective glass to see my eyes looking back. I watched as Edmund slowly took off my undergarments, his eyes admiring every inch of my body. Edmund looked into the mirror, his eye holding mine. “Look at how beautiful you are. Your body is so receptive to my touch,” he paused, running his hands down my waist, causing my back to arch. “See?”

“And every scar on your body,” he paused again, kissing the one scar that was on my left shoulder and then the one on my lower back before grabbing my face in his hand and turning it so that I was looking at him. He kissed the scar below my eye before crashing his lips into mine. I let out a small moan as my tongue pressed against his, desperate to touch whatever of him I could reach. He pulled back, leaving me breathless. “Is a beautiful story that only I can read.”

I watched as he easily stripped of his clothing as if he had rehearsed the motion in his head. Soon, we were both naked on the bed, looking into the mirror. “Now, you’re going to watch me fuck you. I want you to see what I see.” Before I could ask what he meant, he forced the top half of me into the bedding so that my ass was up in the air and pushed into me. I let out a cry of pleasure. Edmund took my head, forcing me to look into the mirror.

My face was twisted with pleasure, my mouth slightly agape as my eyes were slightly closed. My body moved in rhythm with Edmund’s thrusts. I could see his body behind me, his hands grabbing my hips, momentarily leaving them to slap my ass. “Don’t look at me,” he said, starting to pick up speed. “Look at you.” I wanted to protest but instead, a small whine left my mouth as he moved on his hands to my clit, toying with the sensitive bud.

I obeyed his command, looking at myself. My hair was now a mess and a small sweat had started to break out over my face. When I looked into my eyes, I saw them burning with lust and it was at that moment that I saw what Edmund saw. He didn’t care about my imperfections. Edmund loved the fiery look in my eyes, the way I bit on my lip to avoid moaning too loud. He enjoyed the way my fingers gripped into the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto to stay grounded in reality.

He loved the way my head rolled slightly to the side, allowing him access to my neck. He loved not only my body but the way I used it. He loved me. As if the revelation was the final tipping point, I felt myself start to tense up. My moaning started to become much louder as I felt myself coming to an end. I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt my body shake with pleasure. “Oh Ed,” I moaned, my body jerking as the orgasm rippled through my body.

“That’s it, love,” he whispered into my ear. His thrusts had become faster as he chased his own climax. I felt his cum fill me as his body thrust into me on its own accord, Edmund’s mind taken over by pleasure. He let out a moan as he emptied into me. We stayed there for a moment, Edmund leaning over so that his face was next to mine.

“Do you see it now?” he asked. I looked into the mirror to see my face next to Edmund’s. My face had a soft glow to it and my mouth wore a small smile. The smile widened as I nodded.

“Yes, yes I do.”

#edmund pevensie #King Edmund #king edmund the just #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie smut #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie imagine #narnia #The Chronicles of Narnia #narnia fanfiction #imagine #preference #fanfic #Smut

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

The Instructor - Part 4

Summary: Agent Walker continues your training.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 3.8k

Warnings: smut, Dom/sub dynamic (m Dom, f sub), dégradation kink, praise kink, slapping, rough sex, orgasm control, I think thats it?

Authors note: Not beta read, only edited by me. There will be errors, my apologies.

Masterlist

Part 3 Part 5

The Instructor Part 4

August took you to the surveillance room. The operation had the whole ninth floor to work from, you didn’t know how the CIA was able to pull off such a requisition, but you knew not to ask questions. Chances were, even August didn’t know how that was done.

Agent Thomas was there with two other Agents and although they were both men, they were so opposite in nature and appearance you wondered how they could possibly work together. One of them seemed to radiate constant joy and good humour, while the other seemed dour and uninterested in anything. You receive a handshake and a welcoming smile from Agent Ortega and got a short nod from Agent Turner. Despite August introducing you by your name, since Agent Thomas had beaten you to them, your name was New Girl.

Apparently, there were two more Agents you would meet when your shift finishes. The number of Agents on this case struck you as odd. Six agents plus August all in the field seemed overkill for any simple surveillance case. Four should be more than enough. Hell, you could probably do it with three.

Ortega was the agent you would spend the next 8 hours with, and you were relieved. You were confident you knew how to do your job, but since this was your first field assignment, you were nervous and Turner made it worse.

So did August, if you were honest with yourself. You found yourself playing with the golden circlet around your neck a lot and chided yourself for bringing attention to it. It was meant to be discreet but if you constantly played with it, eventually someone would notice. You frequently found your concentration lapse and you would focus on August instead of your job. He was becoming an obsession, he invaded your mind constantly. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, anticipating your next visit or, remembering your too few encounters.

During one such daydream, you caught Ortega staring at you, expectantly. You quickly realised it was because he had spoken to you but you hadn’t responded. “Sorry,” you say. “I tend to get really focussed on my work and block out other sounds.” You lie smoothly. Ortega waves away your apology and repeats the question.

You enjoy your time with Ortega, he was friendly and warm without being lecherous. Perhaps his simple wedding band helped to put you at ease. He doesn’t offer information about his partner and you don’t ask. You both eat a lunch of sandwiches made in the kitchen and while the work doesn’t stop, you and Ortega start chatting and you find yourself growing more comfortable with him. Even though he calls you New Girl, he doesn’t treat you like a rookie and you found your confidence increase as the day went on. You even found yourself sharing jokes with him.

However, an hour before your surveillance shift finished, August came back to the room requesting an update. As he comes in the door you were smiling, still getting over a laughing fit with Ortega. Although he shows no obvious reaction, you notice a slight tightening of his jaw. You keep the smile plastered to your face as you look away, but you know there isn’t a hint of a smile in your eyes.

August checks in with Ortega who reports the day’s events. He leans over Ortega’s shoulder resting one hand on the desk while the other held one side of a pair headphones up to his ear as he listens to some audio. You can feel August’s gaze boring holes into you, and you can almost hear him say, “Look at me, Pet.”

Slowly you raise your eyes and look at him. You had to smother a gasp. He wasn’t just staring at you, it felt like he was stripping you bare with his eyes. The fire is his blue orbs was scorching with desire. His gaze holds you captive, and you know if Ortega sees what was taking place, your secret would be out. Scandal at this point in your career would mean you were chained to a desk for the rest of your life, if you didn’t quit in frustration, which was usually what most people did.

But August doesn’t take pity on you, he knows the risks too and doesn’t avert his gaze. He licks his lips, drawing attention to his mouth. With a leering look he mouths, “I’m going to fuck the shit out of you tonight, Pet.”

You make a strangled noise and Ortega looks up at you started. “You ok, New Girl?” he asks.

You reach down and clutch your foot, slipping it out of your shoe. “Yeah,” you say, hiding your face while you rub your foot. “Just a cramp.”

August ignores the situation and keeps listening to the audio. You avoid looking at him and he leaves a few minutes later. Even after he is gone, you still feel your ears and cheeks burn and you doubt you will be able to regain your concentration. Then you receive an email from August that simply reads “8 pm.” The rest of your shift is a write off.

Not long before eight pm you stand nervously outside August’s apartment. With trembling hands, you knock on the door. You feel tipsy, you can’t think straight, you’re giggly with nervousness and your legs are unsteady, ready to betray you at any moment.

“It’s open,” you hear August call from inside.

You take a deep breath in a useless attempt to settle your nerves and open the door. You see him sitting at his dining table reading from his laptop and nursing a tumbler of what looked like gin or vodka. He didn’t get up, just flicks his eyes up as the door opened, saw it was you and flicks his eyes down again.

“Lock the door,” August says and you do as he asks.

He is wearing his suit pants and button up shirt, but he had taken his jacket and tie off. His sleeves are rolled up and a few of the top buttons on his shirt are open and you can see tufts of his dark hair on his chest. His hair is still impeccably groomed, but a five o’clock shadow dusts his jaw. Even without the suit, he exudes authority, from the set of his jaw, to his posture, the only thing casual about him was his laxed attire.

“You’re early again,” August says. You still can’t tell if he thought being early was a good thing or not. Until he said otherwise you would continue to be early because you were sure August wouldn’t tolerate tardiness.

You half shrug in reply, but don’t say anything. You realise you hardly say anything in front of August, he intimidated you more than else did. He made you nervous in a way that was so intoxicating that you found it hard to even think of anything you wanted to say. Unless, he asked you a question, then you can hold nothing back. Perhaps it was because you know there is no one in the world that has more power over you than he does.

“Take your clothes off, pet.” August says, still not looking at you. “All of it this time, except your stockings and heels.”

You try to swallow, your mouth feels dry, but you don’t hesitate to obey, his tuts of disappointment that morning still lingered in your mind. Your hands shake as you undress and fold your clothes neatly. You aren’t sure why you feel like its important to fold your clothes, maybe it was because even when August was relaxing, he always had an air of clean order around him. Like he needed things to be just so. However, you know that’s not completely true, you have seen the chaos dance in his eyes, the thin veneer of civility he wore like a skin suit couldn’t hide all of his primal urges and tendency towards recklessness.

“Come sit next to me,” you hear August say the second you had folded your underwear and placed them on top of your clothes. You didn’t think he had been watching but he must have been, because even now he seemed to still be focussed on the screen in front of him. You feel a little silly that you had undressed like you would have at home, you didn’t even try to make it look good for him.

So, you make an effort this time, to show him you want to please him. You let your hips sway just slightly as you walk, the movements feel natural, yet seductive as you near him. You pull a chair away from the table but August stops you, putting his hand over yours. His fingers are warm on your skin and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

“Not there,” he says.

You walk around to the chair on the other side of him, but August stops you again. “Not there.” He looks at you, then with a small movement of his head and a smirk, he indicates the floor. “On your knees, pet.”

You’re shocked and before you can stop yourself you say, “On my knees?” You look at the rug under the table. It was fairly plush looking and soft so your knees wouldn’t hurt. You wondered if he wanted you to take him in his mouth again, you couldn’t think of another reason he would want you on the ground.

“Yes,” August says, with little patience, but his smirk holds. He must find your bemusement funny. “Now.”

You slowly sink to your knees next to August, you feel a little humiliated, but you are curious to see where this was going. August lets out a content hum as you obey. The sound makes you smile and you look up at him, his smirk now looks more like a smile and he pats your head. “Good girl.” He praises. All thoughts of humiliation left you as those two words warm you. August places his large hand on the back of your head and guides it to his thigh.

Again, you’re confused, until you feel his hand stroke your head. He pats you, soothing himself as he finishes his work. He occasionally lifts his hand to do some typing and you find yourself watching his hand impatiently until it is returned. Occasionally he touches your collar, running his fingers along it, as if reminding himself that you as his. Sometimes his fingers slide up and down your back, with long tender strokes that make you break out in goose bumps and when he makes you shiver you hear him hum with satisfaction.

Eventually you hear August give a big sigh and he stretches his neck before closing the laptop and moving it out of the way. He takes a last swig of his drink before putting it aside as well.

“Pet,” August says. You look up at him and he gives his head a little jerk again and you stand up. He looks you up and down, his eyes seem critical as he inspects you, but you know he likes what he sees because his tongue licks his lips before he bites his bottom lip.

August guides your leg over his and you stand in front of him now, your legs on either side of his and your bottom rests on the table. You feel exposed while he continues to study you, and you want to close your legs as you see his eyes linger on your bare slit. You know he would see the slick wetness of your arousal, you could feel it on the inside of your thighs. You close your eyes, a little embarrassed by your obvious display of desire.

August starts to run his hands over the outside of your thighs, hips and waist and back again, while he leans in and kisses the soft skin of your belly. You involuntarily giggle and your hands reach for his head as his stubble tickles at your sensitive skin. Still smiling he takes your hands in his, pulls them behind your back and holds both of them in his huge paw. He returns his kisses to your tummy, but this time they are bigger, wetter and you can feel his tongue lick at your skin as he does. You try not to wriggle, you try and hold still for August, but his teasing touch is too much and you find yourself squirming as he plays with you.

Between kisses he says, “I think its time I got to know you better, Pet.” You feel the heat rise in your body and you feel your heart beat everywhere. God, he has barely even started and you were so ready for him. “Time I explored you.” His eyes looked up at yours as his tongue slid up your body and over your nipple briefly. He held his face in front of your breast, letting his breath tickling your hard bud. “Time I tested your limits.” He takes you in his mouth, sucking on your nipple, and letting his teeth graze you, your body shuddering with pleasure.

Looking up at you August’s voice is suddenly serious, “If you need me to stop, say Red.”

“Red to stop,” you repeat, letting him know you understand.

Letting go of your hands, August lifts you by your waist and sits you on the table. “Lay down, pet.” He says, pushing against your shoulder. He lifts your legs so that your heeled feet rest on his thighs. You moan, and want to draw your knees together, but you feel his hands on the inside of your thighs pushing them further apart. You are completely on display for him, you can hide nothing as he continues spreading your legs. You shut your eyes, tight. Your mind and body were in conflict. You were on fire, hot with lust and need, but your mind wanted to say no, to stop, you couldn’t stand the embarrassment.

“Spread your lips wide for me, pet. I want to see your cunt dripping wet for me.”

You shake your head, you can’t do that. It was too much. Already so exposed and naked, the thought of holding yourself open to him was too humiliating. “Please August,” you murmur “I can’t.”

The loud smack against your breast takes you by surprise. You hear the noise before you even register the pain. “August,” you cry. Your hands reach up, covering your breasts, and you try to rub the sting away.

“Hold yourself open. I want to see inside you.” August’s voice is low and firm, not angry, just stern. You lift your head to see him, he tilts his head and his whiskered lip curls in a cruel grin, almost like he was daring you to say no again.

Laying your head back on the table and squeezing your eyes shut, you move your shaking fingers down to your slit. You’re so wet and so aroused you struggle to hold your swollen petals apart. You hear August’s breathing start to quicken and his voice is barely above a whisper as he says, “Good girl.” You feel a finger slide teasingly over your exposed core and despite your shame your hips roll in desire. “You have such a pretty wet cunt, Pet.” His finger sweeps up your slit, his rough pad pausing on your clit. You gasp as he does, and a low moan escapes you parted lips.

August chuckles, “You’re very responsive, Pet. I like that.”

His finger moves back to your entrance, and with agonisingly slow movements he pushes his finger into you. You feel yourself clamping down on him already, you’re so desperate to be filled. Your hips start to rock as he curls his finger inside you, searching for your spot.

“Oh fuck,” you cry when he finds it, you unconsciously try to curl up into a ball as every muscle in your body contracts. Your hips move faster now, and you eagerly beg, “Please August.”

“You are an impatient little slut sometimes, pet,” August says as he lays an arm over you, stopping your undulating hips. “I think patience will be your next lesson, but lucky for you, today I want to watch you cum.”

Without warning, August pushes a second finger inside you. You cry out as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate him. You were so close to coming, your whole body felt pulled tight like an elastic, ready to spring apart when the tension got too much. Your fingers start to hurt as you hold yourself open. Even your fingers feel tight, ready for the release of your orgasm.

Your thighs start to tremble and you feel the warm wave start to rise from your toes. “Are you about to come pet?” You barely hear August through the fog bliss you’re feeling as his fingers dance inside you, coaxing you to your peak.

“Yes,” you say through your moans.

“Ask permission,” August says.

You’re so close you can’t make sense of his words. “What?” you ask.

“Ask me if you can cum. This is my cunt pet, I will control when you cum. Or I can stop now.”

You understand that threat, “No, no, please don’t stop.” Panting, and breaking out in sweat you say, “Please August, can I cum?”

“Yes, my needy little slut. Cum for me. Now.”

And you do. You don’t know if it was because he told you to or if it was because you were so close anyway, but when he said now, you felt a wave of warmth flood you. Your body pulsed and your core milks at his fingers and they keep hitting your spot. It feels like your orgasm lasts for an age and even as you come down from your high, you tremble in little after shocks.

You are in such a haze you don’t notice August removing his fingers until you feel both his hands on your knees, pushing them up and out as he stands. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he gives them a tug. Your ass is barely on the table and in your malleable state, you feel like you’re going to fall off, but he holds you there.

There’s a new sensation at your core, and you groggily sit up, resting on your elbows. You see August, cock in hand lining himself up. You whimper, not yet, you think. Augusts lifts his eyes and you’re caught once again in his piercing blue eyes. His shows you his teeth and grabs your throat as he impales you with his cock.

You would have thought that you would adjust to his size quicker after the euphoria of your orgasm, but you were wrong. You feel yourself reluctantly stretch around him, and despite the pain, as he fills you, tears you apart, it feels good, he feels good.

August pulls you up by your throat, and you wrap your legs around him for stability. You think he’s going to kiss you, but he studies your every facial expression, listens to every little moan as he starts to fuck you. Still feeling weak, every thrust from August throws you, his firm grip on your throat was the only thing stopping you from falling back on the table.

“You look so good, pet,” he grunts at you through his gritted teeth. “You look like a slut, with your pretty mouth moaning for more.” He leans in close to you, and growls into your ear, “But you’re not just a slut, pet. You are my slut.”

You cry out as he says it, his claim of you relights the fire between your legs and you start moving with him, trying to fulfil the growing need inside you. You grasp his shoulders, holding onto him as he keeps whispering in your ear, “You greedy girl, you want to cum again don’t you?”

“Please, August,” you say. He raises his head and sticks two fingers in your mouth, pushing them in deep, almost making you gag. As you build to your peak so does your boldness and this time you find Augusts eyes. You run your tongue around his fingers, before starting to tease them and suck on them.

August snarls as he watches, and increases his pace. You want to cum again, but you don’t want to stop sucking his fingers. But then August breaths a curse, “Fuck.”

You couldn’t hold it off now, you say around his fingers, “Pease August, can I cum?”

“Fuck, yes,” August is as lost as you are and as you fall over the edge, and your pulsing walls grip his cock he thrusts into like he wants to tear you in two. On his last pump he lets out a deep rumbling growl, before his whole body shudders. You had never seen a man who came like him, the way he doesn’t hold back, the way he lets his primal urges over take him, the noises, all of it was so fucking hot.

August leans his sweaty forehead against yours while you both get your breath back. His hand still holds your throat but he moves it under your chin, and with the gentleness that always surprises you, lifts it and kisses you with soft lips and a caressing tongue. You kiss him back, matching his mood, softly licking at his lips.

With a final kiss, August pulls away and helps you to your feet. “Ok?” he asks. You nod and he chuckles briefly, “Who knew you had both a degradation kink and a praise kink?”

You look away from him, embarrassment filling you. August sees it and lifts your face to his again. “I fucking love it,” he says. “Much more to explore.”

You smile, still a little shy about it, but not as embarrassed. “Come,” he says and takes you to his bedroom where you both get in bed and you lay like you had that morning.

You stay awake, pretending to sleep, keeping your breaths long and steady. Eventually August drifts off, and you wait until he falls into a deep sleep.

You slowly get out of bed and creep over to the dining table. You lift August’s laptop from the chair he had left it on. You open it and enter the password you saw him use on the plane. Your hands start sweating as the machine connects to the CIA network. You think you hear a noise and you look behind you, but you can see or hear nothing.

You type August’s CIA log in and enter another password. You are worried about this one, you aren’t sure if you had been able to catch all of it. You release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding when the CIA logo fills the screen.

You feel eyes on you and the hair on the back of your neck starts to rise. Terrified you turn around and come face to face with August and his unforgiving eyes. “What do you think you are doing, Pet?”

Part 5

Tag List:

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira @blakerogue @shadesofarrogance @mansaaay @stxlemate

#august walker #august walker x you #august walker x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker smut #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill fic #fanfic #mission impossible 6

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persephone-plasmids · 3 years

Text

Safe

A Danse and Nora fic.

[Read on AO3]

-----------

“It’s eerie how well preserved this area is,” Paladin Danse said, as the elevator cage opened to reveal the silent Vault 111 in front of him.

“That was kind of the whole point, Danse,” Nora said, smiling over at him. “If they could preserve me this well for 200 years, it only makes sense that the metal walls held up too.”

“They preserved you wonderfully,” Danse agreed with a nod.

“Is that a line?” Nora asked, raising an eyebrow at the Paladin and making a slight blush rise in his stubbly cheeks.

“I… of course not,” Danse fumbled. “I just meant, from a medical standpoint, what they were able to achieve in this vault was… impressive.” Danse let his words trail off towards the end of his sentence, finding that he was only making things worse.

“Relax, Paladin,” Nora said, her grin still in place. “I was only joking.”

“Of course,” Danse said, trying to sound confident even though he still felt flustered. “I knew that.”

The way Nora gave him a short nod and held back a laugh before walking further into the vault told him that she knew he was lying. He appreciated that she didn’t state this outright.

Danse followed behind the vault dweller in silence. Or, in as much silence as he could manage when the sound of his power armor reverberated off the walls so loudly.

“The gun should be right through here,” Nora said, leading Danse through the halls of Vault 111 expertly. “I saw it when I first… woke up in here. But I wasn’t as familiar with lockpicking back then.”

“You’ve definitely honed that skill since wandering the Wasteland,” Danse agreed, giving her the smallest ghost of a smile.

He admired Nora for so many reasons. Her lockpicking skill was just one of the many ways she’d adapted to an impossible situation after waking up to a world she didn’t recognize.

She’d lost her son. She’d lost her husband. And yet, Danse had never seen her show the people of the Commonwealth anything but kindness. He didn’t know such people still existed in the world. Meeting her had shifted his perspective on a lot of things.

“If I can get the lock open, will you check out the gun to see if it’s something that might be useful for us?” Nora asked, shaking Danse from his internal musings.

“Of course,” he answered.

Nora led him to a small room within the vault and quickly began working on the locked glass case that held the gun.

“It’s called a Cryolator,” Nora explained, puckering her lips as she moved the bobby pin and screwdriver in such small subtle ways that Danse could hardly tell she was moving them at all. “From what I read on the terminals when I first woke up here, the Overseer of the vault made it as a way to pass time. It’s supposed to freeze enemies.”

“That definitely sounds like a unique weapon to have in your arsenal.

Nora nodded but didn’t say anything. She was focused on the lock in front of her, still trying to crack it as Danse watched her.

In this moment, with her full attention taken up by something else, Danse allowed himself a moment of self-indulgence. He watched the way her brown hair fell out of its bun in small wispy strands. He saw the freckles on her cheeks that she swore she didn’t have before leaving the vault. He studied the way her vault suit fit her a little too perfectly, which had been one of the reasons he’d tried to convince her to trade it in for a Brotherhood suit.

Her pink lips were still puckered as her long fingers worked at the lock.

Danse swallowed hard, realizing that he shouldn’t be staring at his partner this way.

“Bingo!” Nora said, standing aside with a triumphant smile.

“Outstanding, soldier,” Danse said, hating the way his voice sounded ever-so-slightly off after studying her so closely.

“Have at it, partner,” Nora said, gesturing to the gun and standing aside.

The Cryolator was definitely something Sanctuary could use to keep the settlement well-defended. And as Danse studied the weapon, he imagined the various ways it could be used to ward off Raiders.

“You really do wonderful work, soldier. Have I told you that lately?” Danse asked, turning around to find that he was alone. “Nora?”

Feeling his pulse pick up a few paces, he left the small room and began making his way through the halls of Vault 111.

What if something had happened to her? What if Raiders had been camping out inside the vault and they’d somehow missed them on the way in?

It wasn’t until Danse entered a cold room full of large metal containers that he found his partner. She was standing in front of one of the pods with an expression he couldn’t read. When Danse approached and curiously looked at the frozen man behind the glass, his brain made the connection.

This had to be Nate. This had to be the man Nora had loved. The man she’d built a life with, only to have it all stripped away in mere seconds.

He looked from the man in the pod to Nora, watching the way her jaw tightened as she stared at her spouse. She didn’t let any tears fall, though Danse wouldn't have faulted her if she did.

He wasn’t sure what to say to her at a moment like this. He wanted to tell her that she was welcome to grieve however she wanted. He wanted to make this better for her. But he was at a loss.

“Take all the time you need, soldier,” he said, because what else could he really say?

“I’m fine,” Nora replied, taking a deep breath, turning on her heel, and walking quickly away from the room.

Danse barely had time to register what had happened before she disappeared completely.

He could hear the sound of the vault elevator in the distance as it brought Nora back up to the surface.

She probably needs a few moments alone, he thought to himself, looking back at the lifeless form of the man Nora had loved. The one she had trusted.

His heart ached for her.

Danse waited a while before making his way back to the vault elevator, not wanting to impose on Nora’s private moment the way he accidentally had when he’d clomped into the cryochamber. But to his surprise, Nora wasn’t waiting for him on the surface.

She probably went back to Sanctuary.

He wasn’t sure if this was true, but he hoped it was. Any time he lost sight of Nora, he began to feel a panic take over his heart. He’d had a lot of partners and lost a lot of partners. But he’d never worried so much over someone in his life.

Nora had proven herself a capable soldier in the field. Despite her kindness and her tenderness, she could also be tough. She was a walking contradiction wrapped up in a blue and gold vault suit. Danse didn’t have to worry about her being safe on her own.

And yet, he did.

The sound of Danse’s power armor tromping through the dirt was anything but stealthy, but he didn’t care about being quiet at the moment. He only cared about finding Nora and making sure she was okay.

Walking through the streets of Sanctuary, Danse found the first settler he could, even though he wasn’t exactly happy with who it was.

“Have you seen Nora?” he asked the ghoul in front of him.

“Wait… are you actually asking me, a lowly ghoul, for help?” Hancock asked, his mouth quirked up into a half smile.

The Paladin knew the ghoul was pushing his buttons on purpose. And in the back of his mind, he knew he deserved it. But that knowledge didn’t do anything to quell Danse’s rage.

“Listen to me, you…”

“Careful Danse, if you get too worked up, your power armor might rust and you’ll be stuck in there forever,” Deacon said, stepping up beside Hancock with a matching smile.

Of course it had to be Deacon.

If there was one person who liked to get under Danse’s skin more than Hancock, it was Deacon.

Danse clenched his jaw tightly, to try to keep his temper from flaring up. “Nora is distraught from something we encountered on our mission,” Danse began. “As her partner, it’s my job to make sure she’s okay.”

“I think he still thinks he’s part of the Brotherhood of Steel,” Hancock said to Deacon.

The jab shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. But the reminder that the organization he’d dedicated his entire life to had thrown him out like an old pipe pistol after they’d found out who he really was, stung him to his core.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with the way things had ended. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with who… or what… he truly was.

But Nora was. She wasn’t just okay with what he was, she’d convinced him that he had something to live for. She’d saved his life in so many ways. Because that’s who she was.

“Garvey,” Danse said, while still keeping his eyes locked on Hancock’s in a scowl.

He’d been aware that Preston Garvey had been watching the exchange with mild interest. He also knew that Preston would give him the information he needed, rather than needling him for fun.

“The General is in her old house,” Preston said.

“Oh come on,” Deacon whined. “Why did you have to ruin our fun?”

Danse simply shook his head in annoyance, never letting the scowl leave his features as he walked away from Hancock and Deacon. “Thank you, Garvey.”

“Ad Victorium!” Deacon called after Danse’s retreating form.

“Ingrates,” Danse mumbled under his breath as he made his way to Nora’s old home in the quickly fading light.

It didn’t take long for his expression to soften as he heard the soft sounds of music coming from her living room.

Danse exited his power armor and knocked on the front door, straightening his posture and trying to figure out what he could possibly say to Nora about what she’d just seen. He should have known that going back into Vault 111 would be difficult for her. The fact that it had never crossed his mind only made him feel that much more responsible for her current dismay.

“Come in,” she called over the music.

Danse opened the door to her home and entered the living room to find Nora sitting on the couch with a large bottle of bourbon in her hand.

“Soldier,” Danse warned. “I know it’s tempting to lose yourself to something like that. But it isn’t wise.”

Nora laughed at his words before patting the couch beside her. “Come sit with me, Danse.”

The Paladin looked around the room, as if he’d find someone else there who would tell him it was a bad idea. There was no one. And the voice in his head that was constantly telling him to be better was nowhere to be found right at that moment.

Danse swallowed hard before taking a seat beside Nora. He felt oddly exposed without his power armor on. With only the orange Brotherhood jumpsuit between himself and the outside world, he wasn’t quite sure how to act. He felt too vulnerable.

“Why do you still wear that thing?” Nora asked, running her free hand over the arm of Danse’s jumpsuit in a way that gave him goosebumps.

“I could ask you the same question,” he answered with a smile, looking at her blue vault suit.

She took another long drink from the bourbon bottle before smiling at him. “Touche, Paladin.”

The bottle was almost empty and he silently cursed himself for giving her so much time to herself after she left the vault. She’d most definitely be inebriated by now.

The way she lazily watched him told him that the alcohol was definitely doing its job. And while he didn’t approve of her drinking, he had to admit it made it easier for him to address what had just happened.

“Are you… okay?” he asked.

“You mean after seeing my dead husband frozen in a metal container?” her words should have sounded harsh, but coming from Nora, nothing sounded harsh. “I’ve felt better.”

“I know that couldn’t have been easy, seeing him like that again.”

“I wasn’t planning on going into that room,” Nora admitted after another drink. She looked down at the bottle in her hands. “I told myself I wouldn’t do it. And then I did.”

Danse watched her carefully. Her cheeks and nose were red from the bourbon and she looked sad. Sadder than he’d seen her in a while. How could he possibly make this better.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Nora looked over at him. Her green eyes were wide as she watched him. “You remind me of Nate sometimes.”

“Oh?” Danse wasn’t sure how he should respond to that. Keeping his response vague felt like the best course of action.

“I mean… you don’t really remind me of him. But that feeling of safety I always felt with him… I feel that with you too.” Nora smiled now, before setting the bottle down on the coffee table in front of her. “I feel safe with you. And that’s… it’s an invaluable thing in the Commonwealth.”

Danse tried to look away from Nora as she spoke, feeling uncomfortable with how vulnerable she was being. But he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. “Thank you, soldier.”

Nora laughed softly at his response. “You don’t have to call me that,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. “We’re not on some official assignment. You were just… accompanying me on my own little recon mission.”

“I prefer keeping things formal,” Danse lied. The truth was, he didn’t feel like keeping things formal with Nora. But he wouldn’t tell her that in a million years. Danse was broken beyond repair. Nora was many things, but there was no way she would be saintly enough to look past what he was.

“Do you really, Danse?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and leaning in closer.

“I think you should probably go lie down for the night,” Danse said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at just how close they were on the couch. “Sleep off that bourbon.”

Nora leaned away from him and sighed. “You’re probably right.”

She seemed… disappointed. Danse wasn’t sure why she’d be upset by his suggestion.

As Nora stood up from the couch, she stumbled slightly, catching herself on the arm of the sofa.

“Okay fine,” she said with a giggle. “Maybe you’re right. I do need to sleep this off.”

“Indeed,” Danse answered, standing up and placing his hand under her elbow to help keep her steady. “Easy now.”

Nora leaned against him as he walked her through the hall to her bedroom at the back of the house. He tried to ignore the way his breath seemed to catch in his throat at her touch.

When they entered her room, Danse let her go for a moment to pull her covers down for her. When he turned back around, she was staring at him with a look he couldn’t quite read.

“You always take good care of me,” she said, her voice so low that he could barely hear it.

“I'll always have your back,” he said. “That’s what we do. We watch out for each other.”

“We do,” she said, the lazy smile returning to her lips.

Danse watched her in silence for a moment before his discomfort grew to be too much. “Are you ready for bed?” he asked, looking away from Nora for a moment.

“Was that a line?” she asked, her grin widening.

“Nothing I’ve said today has been a line,” Danse said, hoping she was too intoxicated to notice how red his cheeks had become.

Nora stepped closer to Danse with the grin still in place. “Are you sure about that?”

Danse backed away from her but couldn’t move very far before the back of his legs hit the mattress. Not wanting to encourage her further, he stepped away from the bed. Of course, this only brought him closer to her.

Seeming to take this as a sign, Nora pressed her lips firmly against his. She tasted like alcohol, which only helped to remind Danse of why this was incredibly inappropriate.

Pushing her away gently he tried to gather his thoughts as his mind desperately tried to push him closer to her again. “Soldier, this is… inappropriate.” His words were stilted and his voice sounded tight.

“Again, Danse, that’s kind of the point,” Nora said, bringing her lips to his again and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Danse knew he should push her away. She was intoxicated and he had no business kissing her. But he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her back. Only for a moment. Only long enough for his heart to begin hammering inside of his chest.

His breathing was shallow as his mouth moved with hers, and he hated himself for kissing her back when it was so obvious she wasn’t in her right mind. The guilt that flooded his mind was only outweighed by the sudden deep desire he had to deepen the kiss.

Danse couldn’t remember the last time he’d been properly kissed. And as much as his hands were itching to pull Nora closer, he pushed her away again.

“Soldier,” he began. “Nora… this… this isn’t okay. You’re drunk.” His voice was soft as he stared into her green eyes. Those beautiful eyes that had looked into his soul when he’d first found out he was a synth. Those green eyes that had convinced him he had something to live for.

“I’m not that drunk,” she said. “And I know what I want.”

Nora kissed him again, this time more desperately. She parted his lips with her own, tangling her fingers in his dark hair and pulling him closer and closer. Her kisses grew hungrier with every second and with each one, Danse found himself less able to do the right thing.

He wanted her. And that realization terrified him. He’d never wanted anyone this way.

“Nora, please,” he insisted between kisses. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to resist the woman he’d spent so long admiring.

In response, Nora dropped her hands to Danse’s waist, pulling him against her. “Don’t you want this?” she asked breathlessly. “I’ve always thought you did.”

How did he respond to that? He couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. That he’d wanted this since he’d met her. That would only encourage her. And Danse wasn’t the type of person to take advantage of someone when they couldn’t properly think for themselves.

“Nora,” he said, pushing her hands away and taking a breathless step back. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched her. Even now, knowing he had to do the right thing, his body was screaming at him to pull her close again. “You’ve had too much to drink.” His words were short and to the point. He didn’t think he’d be able to stay away if he let any emotion sneak into his voice right at that moment. “If this happened, it wouldn’t be right.”

“I already told you I want this,” Nora insisted, but as she took a step closer to Danse, he sidestepped her.

“You aren’t sober enough to make that decision,” Danse answered, furrowing his brow and wishing Nora hadn’t found that bottle of bourbon. “So I’m making it for you. You need to go to sleep.”

Nora watched him with hurt in her green eyes, her brows knitting together. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” she said, turning away from him. She seemed to take a deep breath before crawling into her bed.

Nora turned her back to Danse, instead facing the wall after lying down. The silence between them was suddenly deafening.

Even though he knew he was doing the right thing, her response made him feel like the bad guy.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” he said. “I just… want you to be safe.”

He watched her for a moment longer, feeling like he’d done something wrong somehow.

“Goodnight, Danse,” Nora said.

He sighed deeply at her words. In the morning, he’d come by and check on her. She probably wouldn’t remember any of this. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad that he couldn’t say the same.

This evening would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life. The feeling of Nora kissing him was going to make it almost impossible for him to keep working with her. He’d always been vaguely aware of his feelings for her, but he’d managed to tell himself that they were simply a result of finding a genuinely kind human being in the midst of a place as awful as the Commonwealth.

Now he knew the truth. He was head over heels for Nora. But he knew there was no way she’d ever want a synth. And why should she? He’d brought her into the Brotherhood. He’d taught her that synths were an abomination. And now he’d have to reap what he’d sown.

He watched her with sad eyes as her breathing slowed down and she fell asleep.

He’d be a good friend to her. He’d always try to be a good friend to her. Because despite his feelings that he knew couldn’t be reciprocated, she deserved a good friend. Danse would rather have Nora in his life as a friend than not at all. And even though he knew it would be torture to be around her after realizing just how much he cared for her, he couldn’t live with the alternative.

“Goodnight, Nora,” he said into the now-dark house.

[Part 2]

#fo4 #fallout #fallout 4 #danse #paladin danse #fallout danse #nora #fallout nora #sole survivor #fanfic #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #danse x sole survivor #danse x sole #paladin danse x sole survivor

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stubby-psych-o · 3 years

Text

Viking warrior made

Merlin is kidnapped to be sold/forced to be a gladiator

Magic suppressing chains

Nordic/viking captors

Use black paint across their eyes to disguise their features

They teach Merlin how to fight so he can out on a good show

In season 4 season 5 gap

Lancelot is alive, because we love Lancelot

Lancelot was visiting Nemeth to see Princess Mithian, for trade talks and because they're courting, when Merlin is taken

Word gets sent to the kingdoms that a powerful sorcerer has been caught and any interested in purchasing him is invited to attend a tournament where he will showcase his skill

Knights are invited to participate as opponents

Merlin has been missing for a year by the time the tournament is held

A few Knights of the Round Table are interested in competing

Merlin suffered a lot during his captivity, not being able to be free from his chains more than an hour every day

The kingdoms all arrive, pavilions are set up for each for their knights, servants, and royals

Arthur is determined to question everyone present if they have seen Merlin

The servants and knights do the same

When the kingdoms all gather in a makeshift hall, the leader brings Merlin out, still in chains, so they can get a glimpse of the product

Merlin's hair has grown out and curls over his ears, his face has some stubble, and the dark eye paint keep him fairly unrecognizable

He keeps his head down and only growls once when one king touches him; he is rewarded with a swift lash, and he manages to only wince slightly

His breath rushes out when he hears some familiar voices: Arthur and Gwen

When they approach he tries to stay still but his body starts to tremble just barely

He'd been marked with large tattoos crawling around his arms

Arthur asks him what his name is and he can't breathe for a second

Another lash for stalling

He growls out the name Myrrdin half hoping he's recognized, half hoping he's not

When the royals all retire for the night, Merlin is locked back up in his cage

A couple Camelot Knights come to check out the competition

Merlin keeps his head down, until he hears Lancelot's voice

His head snaps up and their eyes lock, and Lancelot's breath rushes out as he grips the cage bars

Merlin shakes his head just enough to keep him from revealing who he is

When everyone is asleep, Lancelot comes back desperate to get Merlin out

They talk for a short time before Merlin hears his captors approaching and begs the knight not to tell anyone who he is

Merlin is brought to the arena just before dawn and is stripped to a pair of tight fitting trousers

No shirt no shoes

The woman in charge recites while painting his face with another stripe down his cheek and presses a needle through his ear and securing a metal loop leaving faint traces of blood on his lobe and down his neck

A symbol is painted on the back of his neck and he feels hands grazing over his shoulder blades

They pull his hair into a few braids, leaving his bangs to cover his forehead lest he be too noticeable

His scars are on full display, but his time in captivity has made him less self conscious

Merlin is glad he hadn't seen Gaius as he would have recognized Merlin from them

He kneels and awaits his orders

The kingdoms are all situated in the various seats surrounding the arena

Two or three knights stand in front of each kingdom as competitors

Merlin was still looking to the ground, so he didn't know which of his friends he'd be fighting

The kingdoms were allowed to go one-on-one or to go all at once, they chose the former

With a harsh command, Merlin rose to his feet, gracefully, standing to his full height, chest out, shoulders back

He fought two from Gawant, and two from Nemeth, all falling quickly

He tried to cause as little damage as he could, but his training had been harsh so he didn't hold back

Amatis and Mercia put up good fights, able to draw blood, though Merlin didn't feel it

Essetir was taken down easily, and there may have been some broken bones because he may have known one of the knights from when he was young, and he had been bullied

Camelot was last, and Merlin was tense as Gwaine and Percival circled him

Merlin made their defeat quick so as to avoid being recognized

Lancelot stepped forward when the others stepped back

Merlin had blood on his face, and blood dripping from his bicep and a small slash on his stomach

Lancelot decided to talk, but Merlin was strung tightly having fought for a few hours now

He told Merlin that he didn't need to fight, that he could stop

The Woman shouted a command at Merlin who attacked

Lancelot defended himself, barely

Merlin had him on the ground in no time, blade pressed to his friends throat

Lancelot looked up at him with sad eyes

He reached a hand up and touched Merlin's face, who leaned into the touch

"I'm so sorry, Merlin. You didn't deserve this." Lancelot told him

Merlin is dragged back then, and forced to his knees while the woman approaches, whip in hand

She speaks to him in her language, and he responds in kind

She walks behind him telling him, in her tongue, this was his own fault

The lashes start and Merling tries to hold in his cries, knowing that will only earn him more

Lancelot tries to stop it, but is forced back by the vikings

The Camelotians don't understand why Lancelot is so agitated

After 10 lashes, the woman relents and tells Merlin, in her tongue, to use his magic to prevent an infection and to heal the wounds to scars

One cuff is removed and his magic flows over him, easing his pain

Once the wounds are just scars, Merlin feels the manacle being put back on

Lancelot yells for him to fight back

Merlin locks eyes with his friend, seeing the pain there, he nods almost imperceptibly

His magic forces his captors back, and he runs to Lancelot, who crushes him in an embrace

Lancelot is whispering to him and then forces him back behind him, away from these savage people

The woman tuts at Merlin and raises her voice

Merlin tenses, but stays behind Lancelot, hand grasping the knights arm tightly

Arthur tries getting Lancelot's attention, but the knight won't move his gaze from the vikings in front of him

Lancelot tells the vikings they can't sell someone who doesn't belong to them

The woman laughs

Merlin growls

The woman then suggests a battle, one final duel and then the little birdie can fly free

This phrase catches the Camelotians attention

A whispered Merlin comes from Gwaine’s lips

Merlin turns sharply, meeting the long haired knights eyes

Gwaine rushes forward, but Merlin has been captive for too long and he quickly retreats letting go of Lancelot, trying to avoid whatever punishment he thought was coming

As soon as he's away from Lancelot the captors have him again, cuff slammed shut on his wrist, held in place by his throat

Merlin growls out in the woman's tongue that he'll accept her final duel if she ensures the Camelotians will be unharmed

She acquiesce's and the vikings begin forming a circle around Merlin and one other man

The one who trained him

The fight is brutal, but Merlin has much to fight for now

He knows that the others have figured out who he is now when he hears shouting

Merlin is quick, but has also already fought many other battles beforehand

He feels his magic straining to get free as he loses ground

As the man is standing over him, crushing his windpipe, his magic breaks free and the manacles shatter

The vikings never stood a chance against the onslaught of magic

The visiting kingdoms are all unharmed

But Merlin lay unmoving on the ground

Lancelot is by his side in a heartbeat, with Gwaine right behind him

Merlin mumbled something that only the vikings would understand

His eyes shot open, blazing gold, as he moved to stand

He collected the vikings with his magic, bringing them in the center of the arena

He spoke viking words, funerary rites, and set them ablaze as he knelt before them

He stayed there for some time before he heard the arguing

When he went to its source, he found the visiting kings ready to face off and declare war, until they noticed his presence

The Mercian King was trying to argue that he agreed to the fee requested by the woman and he intended to take his new property back with him

Merlin stopped the man talking with a flash of his eyes

He started to talk but stopped when he felt Lancelot's hand on him whispering in his ear that he needed to speak common for them to all understand

Merlin nodded, not realizing he'd spoken the other tongue, and informed those gathered he was not for sale

He'd been held prisoner for too long and he would not do so again

If they valued their lives or kingdoms they would leave and not retaliate

When the kings tried to argue more, Merlin told them they're free to challenge him to a duel if it would make them feel better, but since he'd already defeated their champions, the odds weren't in their favor

When the only kingdom remaining was Camelot, Arthur reached over as if to grab Merlin’s shoulder, but Merlin flinched and scrambled out of reach, dropping into a crouch as if prepared to fight, eyes wild

When he looked up and saw the concerned sad look in the King's eyes, he straightened up and came back to stand in front of him, slowly

His King apologized for everything that happened to him, but Merlin stopped him

It wasn't his fault, it was just bad luck he'd been captured and they had figured out some of his power

Merlin held his arm out to his King, who grasped it firmly

Merlin gave him a small smile

He hadn't smiled in a long time

When they returned to the Camelot delegation, Gwaine walked up to him slowly as if he'd spook him again

Merlin ran to him and wrapped his arms around the knight

Everyone cleared away to let hem have a moment, though they didn't go far

The trip back to Camelot was easier than the trip out

Though Merlin didn't help with camp set up, he did cook

He shared a horse with Gwaine, and barely spoke the whole way

When they rode through the lower town heading for the castle, several stared at Merlin, thinking their King brought back a powerful weapon, not recognizing him as Merlin

He was still shirtless as he'd refused to wear a spare

Most of the time he was captive he'd not had a shirt

When they arrived at the castle, Gaius was there waiting as were the courtiers

Gaius recognized the scars almost immediately and rushed to Merlin

Merlin let him inspect him, knowing he was fine aside from new scars

Arthur came over and instructed Gaius to make him take a bath and give him a thorough check up before looking in Merlin’s eyes once more, nodding, and returning to his counselors

Lancelot told Gaius he'd have a bath sent to his chambers so he could be inspected better

When Merlin was stripped down and sitting in the water, his gaze was distant

Gwaine came in and began to carefully wash him, making sure to get all the war paint off

The water was nearly black by the time he was done

Gaius was tense while checking over each new injury and mark, before he finally relaxed, only slightly, and sent Merlin to bed with a sleeping draught

The next day was full of council meetings and Arthur and Gwen were both getting frustrated

When Merlin walked in, clean of the war paint, but not really Merlin anymore, braids still in his hair, tattoos on his arms in view in a short sleeved tunic with his old brown trousers and boots, the council stopped and stared

Merlin addressed them, said he would never cause harm to Camelot, his home, nor his King or Queen. And he was prepared to swear oaths of fealty if necessary to prove such

The council jumped at the idea and within days, Merlin knelt before the King and Queen of Camelot swearing his life in service of their kingdom

He tried to adjust back to being a manservant, but was ill suited for it after his captivity

Instead he became a blade master and taught the knights new techniques

He would often get a far off look in his eyes like he was back in the arena, and would sometimes jump to defend himself when startled, but he was getting better

When he spoke, sometimes it was in the viking tongue, not realizing he'd done it

Gwaine would wake in the night to Merlin shouting and would force him awake and reassure him he was safe

They became inseparable

When they finally married almost a year after he'd been back, Arthur gave Merlin a hard time for waiting so long

Merlin rolled his eyes and reminded the King how long it took him to ask Gwen to marry him

He still didn't smile as much, but that could be because he'd discovered after several years, his friends were aging and graying, and he wasn't

He knew what that must mean and knew he'd have to live on long after they were gone

Everyone was confronted with this fact during a council meeting

Some blustery old noble pointed out that he wasn't aging and that he must be there to take Camelot when the royals passed on

That was when everyone really looked at Merlin and saw he hadn't aged a day in nearly 15 years

His eyes were full of pain and regret, but he told them that he would never take over Camelot, it wasn't his place to be ruler, not when he would live for eternity

The room fell deathly silent

Eternity? Gwaine asked heartbreaking soft

Merlin only gave them a short nod

#merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merlin fanfiction #merlin x gwaine #lancelot lives #vikings #captured merlin #immortal merlin #blade master merlin #bamf merlin

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ladyeliot · 3 years

Photo

I’ll fix it

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader.

Summary: Everything changed the day Tony Stark felt your body fall apart in his hands, from then on a struggle to try to bring you back to him began.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of death. Time travel.

Word count: 6283

A/N: Avengers Endgame. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader’s abilities: Master Martial Artist, experienced in espionage, talented Hacker.

There was a turning point in Tony Stark’s life, that moment when everything changed, when like ashes you scattered through space, when your body disappeared leaving motes of your essence in his hands.

The battle to save humanity was lost the moment the time stone, protected by Doctor Strange, found its way into Thanos’ Gauntlet, leaving only a single chance to deal with a successful end to the final battle. All of you present had led the fight with acuity, but there was little you could do, you knew that as you fell one by one. Your bodies lay in the ruins of the once superpowered planet, waiting for someone with the will to continue fighting death, Tony was the last one standing until Thanos managed to strip him of his own Iron Man suit, stabbing him in the side with the sword Tony had created with his nanonites. Something snapped inside you, causing the relentless pain in your joints to fade and you managed to get up, before the wizard offered him the last stone and Quill unsuccessfully tried to stop him before Thanos vanished.

“Tony,” you whispered awkwardly reaching out to him, wrapping your arms around his body.

The exhaustion was such that you both let yourselves fall and ended up sitting in the ashes of that place. You brought your faces close together, facing each other, letting them rest, feeling your connection again. The bruises showed what you had suffered, open wounds that allowed blood to spread freely over every part of your face. You had just lost too much, it was a break between before and after, but the one thing you couldn’t bear to lose was him. Tony covered his cut with the last of his remaining nanonites, expressing an inward groan of relief, allowing himself to think again about what had happened.

“Why would you do that?” he muttered pleadingly, looking at Strange, who stood a few feet away from you.

“We are in the endgame now.”

That had a meaning, only Vision’s name came to mind, he was the only one who could stop that, the one who possessed the last stone, the mind stone.

Little by little, the reunion of those present was the only thing that eased the pain, you were all there, none of you had suffered worse consequences. The silence of the planet made your skin crawl, warning that this could happen to the earth if the snapping were to happen. You and Tony stumbled to your feet, watching as Peter came to you.

“Something’s happening,” your gaze connected with Mantis who had just said those words.

You had never felt so much fear inside you, until you saw how his body seemed to extrapolate and turn into ashes that disappeared moments later. The mental and bodily blockade came over everyone present, the terror professing itself through their features. Tony’s fingers clung to your right arm, barely moving from where Mantis was before he vanished.

You all looked around anxiously, hoping to find some answer to the event that had just occurred, but you only saw Drax turning to ashes, joint by joint disappearing.

“Quill?” Drax looked at him as little by little his friend’s body parts dissolved.

“Steady, Quill,” with those words Tony increased the pressure of his fingers on your arm, showing his own insecurity.

“Aw, man,” Quill whispered before melting into the wind.

It had happened, no one could have stopped him, Thanos had gotten the five infinity stones and had done the snap. No one present had any idea how it had happened, but it was clear, your worst fears had been realised.

“Tony,” Strange muttered, causing the few of you present to focus your gaze on him. “There was no other way.”

And so it was that another one turned to ashes. But it wasn’t over yet.

“Mr. Stark?” Tony and you noticed that Peter was starting to wobble, your gazes were horrified at him. “I don’t feel so good…”

“You are all right,” Tony’s words sounded confident, but hid the fear he felt inside.

“I don’t know what’s – I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t–” Peter managed to reach you, falling into Tony’s arms, who wrapped his arms around him and pinned him to the ground. “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark, please. Please, I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go…” his voice was broken with sobs. “I’m sorry.”

You walked away from the scene, holding your hands to your face as you watched your partner’s body disappear, leaving a void in its place. So, in that moment you realised that your terror was based on the loss of your loved ones, of your family that they had become, you were not afraid of disappearing, you were afraid of them disappearing. You staggered a few steps away, unable to come to terms with what you were witnessing at that very moment, although you didn’t have time either, as a faint tingling sensation appeared in your lower extremities.

“Tony…” a faint tone came from within you, but his reaction was immediate.

“No,” he said, standing up.

You’d never seen him look at you like that before, it broke you to contemplate his watery eyes and fully dilated pupils, expressing desperation, being unable to do anything about it to stop it.

“I…” your voice trailed off.

“I got you, I got you,” his voice was broken, but rigid. “I- I promise I’ll fix this, I’ll fix this.”

You could feel his arms around your body with intensity, the warmth of his body reaching yours, but it was only an instant before you stopped feeling everything and disintegrated into ashes in his hands.

The secular emptiness came a few seconds later to Tony, it was the moment when he understood what had happened and what it meant. He belonged to that 50% of the population that had a second chance, but you were that 50% that had turned to dust from one instant to the next. A feeling indescribable to his mind invaded every inch of his body, he was lost, looking around him, hoping that it was all a nightmare from which he could wake up, but it was clear that he was living in real life, because you were not the only one who disappeared. Completely shattered, he walked through the ruins looking for an answer, some sign to hold on to, to tell him what to do, but it never came.

Time became his enemy, what happened made him realise that every step without you is a moment of his life lost. First it was days, then weeks, then months, then years, he spent a long period of time working against the clock, looking for a way to solve what happened, to come back to you. Thousands of ideas were discarded without coming to a definitive conclusion that could counteract the effects of the snap. Tony knew that if he gave up it would mean losing you forever, the life you had imagined so many times, which you never got to because of the countless missions and obstacles along the way. You were almost on the verge of touching it with your fingers once, after all that happened in Sokovia and the signing of agreements you opted to embrace the simple life, but Thanos and the stones came along and shattered your lives.

Tony had converted the cabin he built for you and didn’t have time to show you, into his own lair. He spent the hours locked away, barely sleeping, at least for the first four years, then he declined, until one day, the light seemed to brighten and his old companions appeared, offering him one last chance to get what he was looking for.

“Now, we know what it sounds like…” Scott was leaning against the wooden porch.

“Tony, after everything you’ve seen, is anything really impossible?” Steve looked at him with concern, Tony’s appearance had deteriorated over the years. He looked exhausted and full of unresolved doubts.

“I must say I sometimes miss this foolish optimism,” he grimaced, a grimace resembling a smile. “Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” his tone rose. “In Layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home.” he paused. “What do you think I’ve been doing for these five years? Do you think I haven’t thought about it already?”

“I came back,” Scott interjected.

“No, you accidentally survived,” Tony cut him off. “It’s a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a…. What do you call it?”

“A time heist?” said Scott smiling nonchalantly.

“Yeah, a time heist. Of course,” Tony frowned putting his index finger to his lips. “Why didn’t we think of this before? Oh, because it’s laughable? Because it’s a pipedream?”

“When did you give up?” cut Steve off with rudeness in his tone of voice. “When did you give up? When did you give her up?”

Those were the words that made Tony rise from his seat, tilt his face to one side and force his facial expression.

“You have no idea,” she approached him, pointing her index finger at him. “Where have you been for these five years? Creating an armada of joint therapy groups? Has that helped?”

“Tony…” Natasha interjected, but he barely paid attention.

“While you were out here with your army of crybabies I was out here, day after night trying to find a solution to undo this mess we’ve created,” Tony paused, clenched his jaw and sighed deeply. “So don’t come to me now and say I’ve given it all up for lost.”

It was clear that Steve knew how to set Tony’s mind in motion, he knew where it hurt and how he could reignite their old friendship, it only took him naming you for him when the group left to pick up on every loose end he had created over those last few years.

It was hours of thought processes, of proposing to himself the quantum possibilities that could work, but more importantly the consequences, what could happen and what number of percentages existed to bring you all back. It didn’t take him long to come up with a way out, completely illogical to anyone except those who were as crazy as he was. So it was that after all this time he arrived at the New Avengers facility.

“Why the long face?” the car stopped in front of Steve. “Let me guess, it turned him into a baby.”

“Among other things,” Steve shoved his hands into his trousers pockets and looked straight ahead. “What are you doing here?”

“Not giving her up,” Tony shrugged and got out of the car, introducing himself to Steve, who smiled. “Mind you, I don’t plan to participate in any of your open tears.”

That opened a process of slow reconstruction of the events of the past years. It opened wounds, showed the aftermath, but also reunited all the Avengers who had managed to survive Thanos’ snap. The important thing is that there were enough Pym particles for a round trip for everyone present. But the important thing was to find out where the stones were located depending on the time.

They were fortunate, or rather lucky, that three of the stones met at one point in their own history in New York City, precisely during the Chitauri invasion. That was bound to cause a bitter memory for Tony, but it suddenly changed when he found out what it meant, he would go back there, he would do that mission, and you would be there. You were there when in 2012 the Avengers faced the invasion in New York, it was your first mission, when you were all recruited, when you met for the first time.

“Okay, we have a plan,” Steve reported after he had organised the teams. All eyes were focused on a screen showing the stones and their location. “Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

It was clear that what they were about to face was something completely new, none of them had had time to perhaps acquire the necessary skills to tackle this new job, new mission. It was back to the past, at least they had the advantage of knowing what the future held, of knowing what would be in store for them if they failed to succeed in their tasks.

“Five years ago, we lost.” Steve began a speech to his colleagues positioned in circles on the starting platform. “All of us. We lost friends… We lost family… We lost a part of ourselves,” Steve and Tony’s eyes met. “Today, we have a chance to take it all back.” he paused slightly. “You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes. No do-overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know. But it doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives. And we’re gonna win,” silence filled the room.“Whatever it takes. Good luck.”

After those words, which were encouraging for all the events that were to follow, a space loop embraced each of them, transporting them through time and space, rendering their matter insignificant. Their bodies separated between space cavities transporting them to the right time.

Tony, along with Bruce, Steve and Scott, appeared in an alleyway in New York City in 2012. The smell of dust and molten iron wafted into their nasal cavities. Everything around him was in ruins, the great skyscrapers looked like they were part of a film of the earth’s extinction, it reminded him of some of his worst fears, but it didn’t distract him because he knew how it was going to end.

“We all have our tasks,” Steve informed them, looking around at an overturned car. “Two stones on the outskirts, one in the centre. Keep a low profile,” he shifted his gaze to Tony, who nodded, raising his hands. “Keep an eye on the time.”

Given the orders the group made a point of dispersing, but Steve held Tony’s arm for a second, focusing his gaze on him.

“Are you going to be all right?” His blue eyes showed concern, including his voice as well.

“Of course,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve been through this once, I can do it again.”

With that said, Tony attached the Iron Man suit to his body and disappeared from the scene. Although his statement exuded self-assurance, he seemed to crumble a little when he reached the top of the Chrysler Building, finding himself in front of Stark Tower. His android vision allowed him to take in the scene taking place on the top floor of his old Tower. There stood the group of Avengers, surrounding Loki, holding him back, he knew that moment as if he had lived it only yesterday, but what almost made his heart stop was to find your figure there. The thrusters of his suit brought him closer to the Tower, accessing the interior through one of the open windows and keeping himself hidden behind some sculptures.

The suit disappeared from his body, becoming Tony Stark again, it was almost unheard of for him, there you were, as if time had never passed. His steps were slow, but he seemed to be completely lost, watching your every move, as if he had no job to do, and his only mission was to watch you. He could not escape the hundreds of memories that came back to him, he even felt guilty about numerous things he had said, done, or not said and done.

“Alright, who gets the wand?” you said holding up Loki’s sceptre.

Your words at that moment came to 2023 Tony with a wide smile, to hear your voice so close to him again and not through any electronic device made a lump form in his throat.

“Are you all right, dude?” Scott cut the moment short.

Tony realised at that very moment that Scott had been on his right shoulder the entire time, a fact that brought all his senses back into focus on the scene he was reliving. The lift opened, ushering in the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, who were actually Hydra, but none of you knew it at the time.

“All right, you’re up, little buddy. There’s our stone,” Tony whispered to Scott.

“All right,” Scott took up position on his partner’s shoulder. “Flick me.”

There Scott’s mission began, and he made his way to the Tony of the past to join him. The scene on the top floor of Stark Tower continued as if nothing strange was going on.

“You got it?” you asked the past Tony, watching as he put the tesseract into the briefcase.

“Yep,” he replied, closing the case and looking at you with a half smile.

“By the way, how about that drink afterwards Miss Y/L/N?”

“Interesting that you can think of a drink Mr. Stark,” you said crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, when I buy someone a drink I’m not just thinking about drinking,” he winked at you to which you narrowed your eyes and headed towards the lift with the other companions. “Is that a yes?”

“Well I try,” muttered the Tony of the present to himself, who inevitably couldn’t hold back a smile as he saw with his own eyes that moment and your way of rejecting it, for it was the beginning of too many things. So, as you all disappeared down the lift he too made his way to his new assigned position.

“ Okay, Cap, I got our scepter in the elevator just passing the 80th floor,” he informed Steve over the intercom. “I’ll head down the hall.”

Steve had his mission, to get the sceptre by pretending to be a Hydra agent in front of those who really were and were now guarding the briefcase. Meanwhile, Tony took over one of the security uniforms of the Shield agents, to impersonate one of them and get the briefcase that had the tesseract inside that was now in the possession of the former Tony.

The avengers arrived at the lobby, Scott in thumb size’, that’s what Tony liked to call him, had to get inside the reactor of his victim to produce a small shock, and so everyone would focus their gaze on the old Tony, while the one from 2023 got hold of the briefcase, but things didn’t go as planned.

“I’m looking forward to going to Shawarma Palace,” Tony was standing next to you, “We could take it as our first date, what do you think?”

“Interesting,” you said, barely looking at him but with a slight smile on your face, “It’ll be great to say that genius billionaire Tony Stark asked me out for shawarma on our first date.”

“You forgot about philanthropist and Playboy,” he added, raising an eyebrow.“So that’s… Oh, Mr. Secretary!”

The conversation with Shield’s superior began, it was the ideal time where Scott had the opportunity to carry out his mission, for the tesseract was disappearing at that moment, and it would be tricky to access it again.

“All right, move it, Stuart Little. Things are getting dicey up here. Let’s go,” Tony informed Scott over the intercom.

It looked like everything was going down the drain, as Scott was in trouble for giving him a cardiac arrhythmia, however, everyone was stunned when at that moment Tony’s body stopped, and then began to convulse and fall to the ground. Your expression suddenly changed, as did the others.

“Tony?” you asked, dropping down beside Tony, worried about what was happening to him.

“Medics!” exclaimed the Tony Stark of 2023, taking in the scene. “You guys, some help!”

“Talk to me,” you said grabbing his face, which was completely flushed since he couldn’t breathe.

“Aw, she’s worried,” the present Tony muttered to himself.

“Is that the machine in your chest?” Thor, who was standing next to him, asked.

Meanwhile Scott, who had emerged from the reactor in the chest of the Tony of the past, pushed hard on the briefcase so that the Tony of the future could take it in his hands and go in search of a way out, but in that instant the Hulk suddenly appeared knocking Tony down, opening the briefcase, making the tesseract fly out and land at the feet of Loki who took it in his hands and disappeared.

“Come on Tony breathe,” you said looking at Thor hoping he would do something about it.

“I’ll try something, but I don’t know if it will work,” Thor brought his hammer to Tony’s chest, specifically the reactor and offered him a small shock, bringing the air back into his lungs. “Yes!”

“Whew, that worked a treat,” he said between gasps, looking at both of us. “Dude, that was crazy,” he thought. “The case.”

“Uhh, the case is…” Thor looked around.

“Where is the case?” you asked getting up trying to intercept him with your gaze.

“Where is Loki?” exclaimed Thor. “Loki!”

Meanwhile, ten meters away from the scene, the Tony from the future was completely knocked to the ground, after the Hulk knocked him down.

“Oh, we blew it,” Tony said without barely getting up, listening to all the conversation you had a few feet away.

The Tony of the future got up and opted to walk through the door leading to the stairs before anyone noticed him, for due to the Hulk’s untimely and shocking appearance, there were hardly any people left in the hall, apart from the Avengers and the Shield agents, of which he was undercover. However, as he was walking down a long corridor on the third floor, something stopped him.

“Excuse me agent,” your voice appeared as if it were an apparition behind him, causing him to stop his steps. “I must ask you to stay in the hall, we need to question everyone present in case we find evidence of what just happened.”

This was completely new, Tony hadn’t experienced it, he didn’t know what was going to happen or how he would best act on this occasion, but he knew that if he turned around you would most likely recognise him, as the black helmet and goggles barely covered his face, leaving the lower part of his face uncovered. At the same time, you kept a SIG Sauer P226 in your hand just at hip level, waiting at all times to watch the reactions of the man in front of you.

“Of course,” said Tony, changing his tone of voice slightly, making it deeper than usual, but still he just kept his position, his back to you.

“Could you turn around and come with me?” you asked with a frown, brushing your fingers over the gun and feeling a bad feeling inside you, for there was something that didn’t sit right with you.

Tony took a deep breath and lowered his face, there were a thousand ideas running through his mind right now, he didn’t know which one was worse than the last, so he connected several pieces and took one that would produce some personal gain, for worse than they were already, perhaps, things couldn’t get any worse.

“Are you sure?”

Slowly Tony’s body turned 180 degrees to face you. His features were obvious, his brown eyes accompanied by honey-coloured flecks, his beard so neatly trimmed, and those full lips, all 100% Tony Stark. But it was obvious to you that this was a trap, Loki had disappeared and you were aware of his every ability to deceive, after all he was the master of mischief. You didn’t stop for a moment to take the gun in your hands and point it firmly in his face, you had a clean shot.

“Loki…” you whispered frowning and squinting one eye to improve your aim.

“Not exactly,” Tony held up his hands retreating back a step, but showing no nervousness at all at the situation. “God, how I resent you mistaking me for him.”

It was at that precise moment, when he had you two metres away pointing a gun to his head, that he realised how long those five years had been, five years without being able to look at your face, without hearing your voice, without your caresses, without your kisses… for which he would die in those moments of your gunshot. He found himself with his hands raised, his body totally paralysed and his lips half-open, in love with you. You were not really the woman he had left behind, it was 2012 and many of your features were changed, but it was you.

“Where is the tesseract?” you asked, bringing him back to his senses. “What have you done with it?”

“That’s what I want to know,” he replied casually and slowly lowered his hands, knowing that bullet wasn’t going to be fired at him.

Tony’s mind worked fast, he was quick in his thoughts and in his actions, although sometimes that could get him into serious trouble because of the consequences of his actions, so he had no idea what he was doing at that moment, because his whole body was begging him to have a meeting with you and so he did. Now it was time to figure out where to go with the situation, but Tony was not a great planner, he flowed with time.

“By the way, did you get rid of that damn FBI agent yet? What was his name?” Tony knew how to test you to make you realise he wasn’t Loki. “Ah yes, Agent Chatter, god, how I hated him. I would have loved to see you spill champagne all over his scalp.”

“How do you… How do you know that?” your voice sounded gruff, but quizzical at the same time, even though you had no intention of conversing with him you were curious as to how the hell he had found out that information, as Tony was the only one who called Matthew ‘Agent Chatter’.

“You told me,” he said taking a step towards you, closing the distance, causing you to back away. “I told you, I’m not Loki.”

“I’ve never told anyone what happened with Matthew,” your breath hitched as you realised you didn’t understand what was going on.

“Well, you haven’t really told me yet,” he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to one side.

You remained thoughtful for a couple of seconds. “I know exactly what you’re doing,” you tightened your grip on the gun, your hands beginning to sweat. “Your mind games aren’t going to work on me.

The moment was complex to explain, Tony had hundreds of possibilities to offer you in that moment and for you to discover that it wasn’t Loki in front of you, he knew how he could deal with the situation, but he wanted you to be the one to figure it out for yourself. He was playing with fire, he knew better than anyone how space-time worked, but he had an ace up his sleeve, an ace that Steve was carrying at that moment and he would use it later.

Tony slowly brought his hands to his face, causing you to fix your aim again with his moments, you feared what he might do next, for anything was to be expected with Loki, but Tony merely removed his helmet and goggles, dropping them to the ground exposing his full face to you.

A strange feeling came over your body, it was obviously a familiar face, you had spent numerous hours with Tony Stark in the previous weeks, but it wasn’t really your Tony standing before you. The features looked aged, more wrinkles were in the key parts of his face, grey hair was showing through his hair and also in his beard. Concentrating on analysing each of his features made you soften your grip on the gun.

"It’s me,” he murmured, making another attempt to move towards you, and succeeded, bringing the barrel of the gun down on his chest, clattering against his reactor. He gingerly reached out his arm, reaching up to your face and brushing aside a lock of your hair. “I can’t explain too much, but…”

“Tony?” a new voice joined your encounter, snapping you out of your abstraction. “What are you doing?”

Again you put distance between you and Tony, wary of what had just happened and rather guilty for letting yourself be bamboozled by Loki. You looked at the Captain who was coming from the far end of that long hallway and was just now standing metres away from you.

“It’s not Tony, Captain, it’s one of Loki’s tricks,” you explained without looking away from Tony who was looking at Steve a little guilty about the situation that had been created. “Captain, warn the others, inform them that we have Loki on the third floor of the west wing.”

“I. Am. Not. Loki,” Tony qualified each of his words somewhat irritated that you still believed it was Loki. “Can you tell her Cap?”

“Tony, what the hell are you doing?” Steve used a gruff tone, now the one who sounded irritated was him, as he was unaware of where Tony’s plans were headed.

“Shit,” Tony whispered turning his gaze towards him.“When they put that serum in your veins they offered you the gift of inopportunity, didn’t they?”

For you everything was much more confusing, your quick analysis of the situation and the two figures that stood before you had many gaps of information. You knew those guys, you had spent more hours of your life with them than with your family, you had studied them, you had analysed them and really that Steve and Tony that were before you were not the same guys, and there was only one Loki, both could not be Loki, at least within your logic, although with Loki anything goes. But what you realised was that the captain was holding the sceptre, why was the captain holding the sceptre right now?

“I’m sorry Tony, but we have to go,” he repeated firmly, which brought you back to reality.

“I don’t think either of you are going anywhere,” you quickly pulled a new pistol from the back of your suit, two guns for two people standing in front of you.

That elicited a sigh of disgust from Steve, who raised his hands, raising the sceptre in one hand and the shield in the other, halting his stride in his tracks.

“What was your bright idea Tony?” he asked seriously.

“I don’t know Cap, you know I like to improvise,” he shrugged his shoulders without taking his eyes off you, raising his hands and giving you a wide and warm smile, which didn’t affect you at all.

“Great, so improvise if you don’t want me to,” Steve sentenced him without moving from his position.

“She’s mine,” Tony slowly brought his hand to his chest, where he offered himself a couple of taps and the armour ran over every millimetre of him, covering his limbs.

Was Loki really capable of that? Confusion engulfed you, it had all your senses alert, your mind asking a hundred questions you couldn’t answer. But if it’s not any of them Loki who are they?

Tony looked at Steve’s sceptre, that was the only key way out he could think of, but since he had laid all his cards on the table, he wasn’t going to leave without doing one thing first, so he started to close the gap with you.

“If you take one more step…” you began to say, backing down the long corridor of Stark Tower.

“Honey, surely my 2012 self would punch me if he knew his 2023 self was going to do what I’m about to do,” he started to approach you which made you stand on guard, “since I’d take all the credit away from him, because he won’t do it for another two years or so, but…” between the words and his approach you blocked and pulled the trigger of the gun pointed at him, causing the bullet to hit and fall to the ground. “Hey! That hurt, well, not physically, but you just hurt my feelings.”

“Don’t come any closer…” you muttered, aiming both pistols at Iron Man’s armour.

Your gesture was profoundly in vain, as your footsteps stopped and Tony was close enough to grab the pistols tightly and wrestle them out of your hands, throwing them into the distance, unable for you to avoid. At that exact moment, Iron Man’s suit disappeared, allowing you to look at him again, much closer than the first time. You didn’t know if it was a mind game, but you could almost feel a strange connection between your gazes, the way he looked at you as if he wanted to tell you something, as if he was hiding a long way in them.

“God, I’d almost forgotten what your face…” Tony’s words were inconclusive, but he voiced a smile at the end of them.

What? you wanted to ask out loud, it was so strange, so incomprehensible to you that you were almost terrified at that moment. His eyes looked at you as if they had known you all your life, as if you had lived too many moments together to remember them all, and you just wanted to ask him about it, but you did not. Tony’s arm was around your waist before you could even react and he pulled you close to him, his lips firmly against yours. For Tony it was one of the best sensations of his life, every limb seemed to fill with energy, his skin bristled, he placed his other hand on your back preventing you from fleeing if you had any intention of doing so. He felt your body scent envelop him again after so many years away from you and it brought a lump to his throat. He didn’t want to separate from you, he couldn’t separate from you, he was terrified inside, he could hardly move his lips, for he feared you would run away if he did.

On your part it was something completely unexpected that you didn’t know how to carry out, it seemed that your common sense was lost somewhere, as if it had extrapolated from your body and didn’t act. Your eyes remained open for the first few seconds, observing the nothingness, but when you felt his second hand on your back to bring you closer to him, they closed very slowly, as if you expected to receive an answer from this act to your numerous doubts. You held still, with no intention of separating yourself from him. You wouldn’t deny that you hadn’t thought about what it would be like to kiss Tony Stark, but that wasn’t the Tony Stark you knew.

It was time that decided when to end it, Tony’s face was the one that put distance, but his minus was still glued to your back. He leaned his forehead against yours, exposing his ragged breath against your face.

“Who are you?” you whispered against his lips without opening your eyes yet.

Tony pulled back a few inches, opened his eyes and brought his hands to your face analysing every facial feature before him, running his thumb over your cheeks and lips.

“I promise I’ll fix it,” he whispered feeling himself. “It’ll be all right.”

“What… What will be alright?” your hesitation felt present in your words, it was incomprehensible what he was saying.

“I…” began Tony.

As if the breath stopped in your lungs, you took one last exhale before everything went dark and you hips surrendered in Tony’s arms. The tip of the sceptre had grazed your body causing you to enter a deep sleep from which when you awoke you would possibly think that everything you had experienced was a dream, or that it was really Loki who was playing with you.

“It would have been rather more gentlemanly of you to let me do it,” Tony looked at Steve spitefully as he held your body in his hands.

A fearful sigh escaped Tony’s lips as he carefully laid your body on the floor and ran his palm over his face, facing a voice that told him he couldn’t leave.

“Tony, we can’t leave any loose ends,” Steve whispered as he watched Tony continue to hold you in his arms. “I know how much you want to get back to her. So the sooner we get this over with, the sooner you’ll be reunited,” Steve rested his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “By the way, where do you have the tesseract?”

“Interesting question…”

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liloelsagranger · 3 years

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Night shift - finally a new Rocketshipping-fanfiction

My dear friends,

it’s been a while since I last posted an entry. Let me tell you why and what, besides Covid-19, made me pause from publishing fanfictions over the last couple of months. Of course, Switzerland was very affected by the pandemic and still is today. We had numerous lock-downs or as Swiss people call it “slow downs”. My mother got very sick last year, I almost lost her. The doctors said she would only live two or three more days, but my mom is a fighter. She had to stay at the hospital for months, she endured countless medical examinations, had to take meds and slowly learned to live again. I’m so proud of my mother that she was strong and determined to get better. When she turned back home, I started to take care of her and I hate to leave her on her own, even if we’re talking about half an hour or less. Right now, she’s doing quite good, actually, we’re on vacation and she makes a great effort to participate in life in Italy. She’s my role-model! She will never be the same as before, but she won’t give up, she wakes up every morning to make progress. I prayed for her and her well-being, I prayed every single night she might get another chance and now we’re here at the beach and dining in fancy restaurants. It’s been a horrible year for everyone, a year full of sorrow, tears and desperation, a year where I was constantly afraid, the hospital would call me with some bad news, but she did it! She survived and she fights for her life! So proud! Good news is: I passed my doctoral exams and I’m officially allowed to call myself Dr. phil. des. Melanie C. but that won’t ever stop me from loving Team Rocket so here it is - a brand new Rocketshipping-fanfiction for you guys. LOVE YOU! Night shift

Chapter 1:

It was past ten o’clock when that miserable looking guy entered the diner. He inconspicuously sat down in the farthest corner of the café and immediately hid his face behind the menu card. Nevertheless, Jessie the waitress could make out the pathetic expression on his face, how he was cowering like a whipped dog. She had seen quite a bit in this diner. Drunks, thugs, addicts and other needy people who asked for a sympathetic ear, compassion and understanding, but that guy was different. He suffered terribly, but did not dare to communicate, instead he hid from the world so as not to attract attention and quietly endure his fate. Jessie had to do something about it. Of course, she didn’t want to play the Good Samaritan. She knew the tricks of the men who entered this diner. Most of the time, they told the waitress tall tales, hoping to be comforted, whatever they meant by that. But this young man did not make a shady impressionHe was well dressed, looked well-groomed, and Jessie was especially struck by his bright emerald green eyes, the only thing in his face that had not yet been veiled by grief and sorrow. She decided to do something about his displeasure.

“Did you have a rough day?” she asked while disinfecting the table.

He looked briefly into her eyes and nodded. “That’s one way to put it,” he answered, the gaze immediately lowered again.

This would be a taciturn conversation, but Jessie didn’t give up easily, she was a natural at making even rocks talk.

“Listen! No matter what happened, I’ve seen or heard some things. If I can help you in any way, my name is Jessie and I’m in charge of this table today. Let me just get the gum out from under your seat and get you a cold drink. What would you like?” She pulled a spatula from her apron and rubbed away the remains of the spoiled brats that marred her diner.

‘Wow,’ the young man thought to himself. ‘A strong, self-confident woman who lends a hand herself and who’s not above cleaning up dirt.’ Their eyes met briefly, and he forced a wry smile.

“You know, kid. You can’t rely on anyone. If you want to get everything done, do it yourself and don’t trust anyone. This world doesn’t give you anything for granted!” She briefly wiped the back of his chair before disappearing behind the counter and pouring the young man an ice-cold Coke.

“I have rarely seen you so concerned about a customer. Normally you show yourself aloof and only take the order, so as not to get involved in embarrassing conversations. Must be a really great pike, this pathetic creature in the far corner. Could it be that you’ve got a tiny crush on this guy?” For Eddy, teasing his best friend was the greatest pleasure. He didn’t know her like that. Jessie usually resisted any kind of small talk. This was due to her dark past, when she had repeatedly fallen for advances from men who were never looking for a steady relationship, but for a quick fix. Eddy had witnessed this bad time of his friend, how her heart was broken, how she was badly played with, and how she was simply dropped like a hot potato. Jack was the worst example of them all. While Jessie was already hearing the wedding bells ringing, he was making love to the women of the Strip and deceiving Jessie night after night with other broads. Jessie was devastated when she found out Jack was cheating on her. She was furious, not even at her lying boyfriend, but at herself for having been so stupid as to trust a man.

Jessie gave Eddy a light pat on the head. “Don’t be silly! That time is over. I can take care of myself, I don’t need male support for that. I’m a big girl, I make my own dough, and I keep my head above water pretty well. No, not a chance, I’ve sworn off flirting.” Nevertheless, she caught herself as her gaze wandered to the young man in the corner. “Oh yes, this time is definitely over,” Eddy smirked.

“Jessie, could you bring us a side of fries, please?” Misty’s order echoed throughout the hall. The twenty-year old waved her hands. She was used to speaking loudly, almost shouting, to attract guests to her daily water Pokémon show. Sometimes she walked up and down the streets of the Strip all day in the blazing hot sun, trying to win people for her underwater attraction. As an excellent student, she could have taught at any college, but she had decided early on to get into show business and make her living doing what she really loved, joined by Dewgong and Starmie. Her parents had not agreed with this decision at all, it was wasted talent, they had claimed, and had summarily turned Misty out the door. Since then, she had been struggling through life on her own, but could always count on Jess, the diner and her two best friends, Ash and Brock, young people who were also not favoured by fate.

“Temper your voice, twerp!” Jessie couldn’t help but grin. She spread the ketchup bottles around the table, hoping Ash wouldn’t spill on himself and the diner again. His constant companion Pikachu immediately hopped on his shoulder, grabbed a fry and popped it in his mouth. Ash and his Pokémon were carnies. He had trained his friend well and attracted many spectators with his performance. Most of them felt sorry for the guy and tipped generously. That’s why Ash was able to invite his friends to the diner every night, a place that gave them hope where they could experience security. They were convinced that nothing would ever disturb this idyll and that fate, for better or worse, had taken its course.

“Who’s that guy over there?” Brock wanted to know. He had barely sold chocolate and roses tonight. The others held back, but they were certain that their friend was just too pushy with women and that’s why he only collected rejections instead of green bills.

“I’ve never seen him here before. Must be from another area. I can’t tell you for the life of me why he’s wearing a suit at theses temperatures, he looks pretty pathetic to me anyways,” Jessie replied.

“Maybe his car has stalled,” Ash suggested, “and now he was forced to wander through the desert until the tasty aromas from your diner brought him back from his delirium.”

“Or,” Brock interfered, “he had to flee his own wedding because his wife is a real pain in the ass, unlike our sweet Misty,” Brock oohed at his friend. “Forget it, Brock! You and me, this will never happen!” She gave him a gentle poke.

“Enough now with your naïve speculations! Just let him enjoy his drink. We’re closing soon, so get going,” Jessie dismissed their absurd ideas with a wave of her hand, but at this point no one knew how right Brock was.

Dark thoughts hunted the young man. He knew what he would face at home if he was late. Beatings, torture, rebuke, harassment, were just a few words to describe his failed relationship. Unconsciously, he stroked his scarred arms.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Jessie pulled him out of the maelstrom of bad thoughts, of course she had noticed the wounds, but maybe he had gotten those injuries at work. The young man rummaged some coins out of his pants and let them jingle on the table. “Is that enough for a cheese sandwich?” Jessie hated small change, but she would make an exception for him. A friendly smile, a quick nod, and she passed on the order.

“Something’s wrong with this guy,” she whispered to Eddy. “He’s scarred, bruised and pays with penny coins. Possibly a vagrant.” Eddy couldn’t help but grin. “That guy’s been keeping you busy all night, Jess. What’s the matter with you? Are you getting weak?”

The young man could not overhear the conversation between the waiters, but he was sure they were talking about him. He sure made a rather frightening impression, but that was a private matter and not something you shared with a waitress in a diner.

His gaze drifted to the daily paper, which had two faces emblazoned on it: Butch and Cassidy. He had never heard of this odd couple, but according to the news, theses two were causing quite a stir and were terrifying the Strip.

“Oh, so you’ve already spotted them, those two knuckleheads! They keep the Strip in suspense, and heads roll when the taxes don’t add up,” Jessie served him the cheese sandwich and gave him a slight smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” He thanked her and took a hearty bite of his dinner.

The last half hour flew by and the remaining guests left the diner to spend the night on the Strip, as very few had a roof over their heads. Jessie set about cleaning up and Eddy checked the register.

The young man stood up and made his way towards the door. But before he left the diner, he glanced back at Jessie for a moment. A sigh escaped him. What if…?

Jessie returned his gaze and watched him go until the young man disappeared. She walked right up to his table and found a little note on the receipt.

“Thanks for treating me like a human being, James.”

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needcake · 3 years

Text

whumptober 2021, day 3: taunting

The King of Northern Lusitania.

That was what his Marshal claimed to be now that he had taken the country without resistance.

France could barely conceal his disgust. The Marshal, standing by the window of a house he had confiscated from a noble family that had fled to Brazil along with the court, seemed to have forgotten for a moment that, although he had been appointed Ambassador to Portugal in the years before the invasion, he was far, far, from the succession line of the new country they would create after partitioning Portugal into three, and that this insubordination would not go unnoticed once the news of his claims reached Paris.

But this was a matter for another time. His last conversation with Spain before coming to Lisbon had left him with a persistent headache and his patience was wearing a little too thin.

“Is he here?” he limited himself to ask and the Marshal informed him that no, the man he wanted had been moved to another location after his last escape attempt. “Take me to him, then.”

He cared very little for the thoughts the Marshal was entertaining in his head as he stared at France, but the longer he went without complying to his order, the more France felt like breaking his nose.

At last a junior officer was called upon and he was taken down the street to an unmarked door, past the two soldiers posted at the entrance with their weapons on their shoulders, and up two flights of marble stairs. All the furniture and the ornaments in the house had been removed, every painting, every object on display, even the chandeliers. Of their existence, only the empty squares of faded color remained on the wallpaper.

The empty corridors echoed their footsteps and the young man guided him to a door at the far end, pulled a heavy keychain from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“I’ll have that now,” he told him and extended his hand. He hesitated, his eyes darting between France’s tight lips to the insignias in his uniform. He deposited the set of keys on France’s white gloves and stood at attention. “You can go wait downstairs now.”

He waited until the young officer had nodded and complied, his steps fading in the distance, before he breathed deeply in. The ache in his head was killing him.

The first thing he saw after he pushed the door open was Portugal’s furious green eyes, his body a shadow against the wall in the dark room.

“It’s a lovely day outside, you should open the curtains,” he said as he locked the door behind him. Portugal remained in silence, still glaring at him. France huffed a breath and walked to the window himself, throwing the curtains open and allowing light to enter the room. Portugal squinted at the sudden change in luminescence, but he soon glared at him again.

France allowed himself a small smirk.

“Do you remember when father dragged you back after your brilliant escape attempt while he was in the East? You looked at him like that too.”

“And he beat me,” Portugal said, his voice a little hoarse. From disuse, France presumed.

“Ah, yes,” he said lightly, unbuttoning his gloves. “Castile wouldn’t leave your bedside.”

“You said I deserved it.”

France held his gloves in one hand; looked at him in the eye. “You did.”

The growl that escaped his lips as he surged in his direction would have amused him were France not in such a terrible mood. Tackling him to the floor and twisting his arm behind his back took less effort now than when they were children.

He pressed his knee over his spine and Portugal stopped struggling, breathing hard into the wooden floorboards.

“You never learn, Ulterior,” he whispered above him, watching Portugal turn his head and snarl at him for the choice of name. “I’ll always win.”

“Get off me,” Portugal spat, but France only settled his weight more firmly down on him.

“You have always been too angry to be good at fighting, Portugal. Stop struggling before you hurt yourself.” He felt him breathe deeply a few times, but his body was still too coiled, still too tense for France to release him just yet.

He looked around the room and saw that it had been stripped bare of its ornaments as well. Only a few pieces of furniture remained.

“Father would have been disgusted with the way we treat our prisoners,” he commented out loud and felt Portugal shift beneath him.

“Stop calling Rome that,” Portugal said, but his voice was lower, his body less resistant.

“Why?” France asked, lowering his body over Portugal’s. “We’re sons of Rome, you and I. Us and the Italies are all that’s left.”

“Romania is still alive,” Portugal countered quietly, the fight finally draining from him, his fingers unclenching behind his back.

“That he is,” France whispered into his ear, brushed his lips against the soft cartilage and felt him shiver in his grasp. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him eventually.”

He released Portugal’s arm and felt his eyes on his back as he got to his feet and walked over to the bed.

“What was the nickname Castile had for you when we were kids?” he asked, sitting on the feather mattress, tucking his hair behind his ear. Portugal got up gingerly from the floor, dusted the knees of his simple cotton trousers.

“Lusi,” Portugal whispered, the word heavy in his mouth, laden with memories France did not know and did not care to know. He hummed, undoing the fastenings on his collar and breathing a little easier.

“Did you have a nickname for him as well?”

France followed Portugal’s eyes down his chest as he continued to undo the buttons of his uniform coat and smiled to himself.

“Dickhead,” Portugal told him and France snorted, undoing the buttons on his waistcoat next. “Yours was Asshole.”

He laughed, shrugging off his outer clothes and folding them carefully by his side, the pressure on his head somewhat subsided now that he had removed his heavy, hot uniform. Portugal’s eyes were trained on him, still standing a few feet away, still hesitant and wary.

“Come here,” he called, extending a hand towards him and watching with some amusement as Portugal’s face contorted into a frown. Huffing an impatient breath, he rose to his feet and went to him instead.

Portugal seemed somewhat smaller, dwarfed by a too big linen shirt and his simple brown cotton trousers. But his body was still the same as France remembered when he pulled him closer, his arms still strong and hardened by years at sea, his eyes still a pale shade of green when he looked at him.

“You are always so difficult,” he told him, settling his hands on the curve of his hips, watching his eyes as he looked down at France’s lips. “Always stubborn as a mule.”

His hands came to rest on his chest, neither to push him away nor to pull him closer, and France sighed, pushed his hair back over his shoulder, ghosted his fingers across his face.

“He is not going to come for you,” he said and Portugal’s eyes turned to his, the soft skin around them tightening slightly in worry. “England has what he wants now that Brazil’s ports are open to him.”

The hands on his chest gripped his shirt, but there was no more fight in them, no more blind, raging anger. “You’re lying,” Portugal whispered quietly, but his voice was thin, threadbare, doubt creeping into his words, taking hold of his thoughts.

“England doesn’t need you anymore,” he continued, petting his hair, caressing his cheekbones, his jaw, his ear. “But you already knew this, didn’t you?”

His fingers slackened, the last wall of his resistance crumbling under his words and France leaned in, brushed his lips against his. “Oh, Lusi,” he whispered, “Aren’t you tired of fighting?”

Portugal's mouth opened beneath his lips and France smiled, “Don’t you want to come home?”

Notes:

In 1807, French Marshal Jean-Andoche Junot led the French army across Spain to seize Portugal in November 30. When he reached Lisbon, however, he was able to see the tails of the ships that took the Portuguese royal family and the court across the Atlantic to Brazil, which effectively saved the Portuguese Empire from falling into Napoleon's hands, but caused them to lose the mainland territory.

After taking control of the country, Junot seized what was left of the Treasury and any wealth available that had been left behind in the escape. He also put in motion the partition of the territory as devised by Napoleon, which would divide Portugal into three, granting the Southern portion to Spain's PM, Manuel de Godoy, keeping the middle part for France itself and giving away the Northern part to the King of Etruria. Junot, however, who had been France's Ambassador to Portugal during 1804-05, decided to proclaim himself as King of Northern Lusitania. Napoleon was not amused.

As part of the agreement to help the royal family escape Napoleon, the Portuguese regent, future João VI, opened Brazil’s ports to British trade, which had suffered under Napoleon’s Continental System and US neutral policy. At the time, Portugal and her colonies were responsible for consuming around half of Britain’s exports. That trade was thus protected after being moved to Brazil, which in turn made the continental territory of Portugal redundant.

However, the partition of Portugal never took place because in May 1808, after trying to double-cross Spain and take control of the territory, the Spanish revolted and the Portuguese followed in June. In August, the British sent troops under the command of Arthur Wellesley, future Duke of Wellington, and the French were forced to leave Portugal in what would be the first of three attempts to take control of the country.

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #taunting #hetalia #fic #emotional manipulation #peninsular war #hws portugal #hws france #fraport #a wild fic appears #if you don't like france being a dick this is not for you #mild makeout

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