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delfiore · 2 years

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impressions from another time

pairing: florence pugh x reader

synopsis: you and florence start filming a movie together whilst going through a rough patch in your relationship.

a/n: i was sleep-deprived writing most of this.

warnings: y/n being frustratingly bad at communicating.

word count: 4.0k

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You walked through door, and shut it behind you. Your eyes were glued to your phone, reading an article about some politician coming under fire for saying the wrong thing. The living room was alight when you came in, which you were surprised about. The TV was on too. Florence didn’t make the effort to look at you when you walked past to get to the kitchen.

“How was dinner?”

“It was fine.” You answered, opening the fridge and looking through it halfheartedly.

You hated that you didn’t know what else to say next. You used to be able to have conversations for hours; two glasses of wine on a winter night, you and Florence talked until morning, and that was way before you started actually going out.

You heard the soft tapping of her fingernails on glass, as if she wanted to say something too, but couldn’t.

“You shouldn’t be drinking so late.” You commented, plopping a grape in your mouth and cupping some more in your left hand before shutting the fridge. “You know your stomach always gets weird after alcohol at night. We have an early flight tomorrow.”

You headed for the bedroom, but she spoke first. “You know you can still pull out.”

Letting out an exhausted breath, you stopped in the middle of the stairs. You didn’t have the energy to fight with her today. “Don’t stay up too late,” you only said, and left her there in the living room.

You had signed the contract months prior agreeing to appear in the movie. The original actor intended for Florence’s role couldn’t make it due to scheduling conflicts, so they made her get on board. At first you were ecstatic, getting to work with your longtime girlfriend, but you didn’t know when the relationship soured. All you knew was there had been way too many fights, and something has wedged itself between your bodies and your spirits.

You helped Florence bring her essentials into her trailer, all the while signing off any paperwork before the first day with a production assistant.

“I’ll have some of my stuff dropped back off in the apartment tomorrow. I’m probably not gonna need most of it anyway.” She said, after having loaded the bathroom with her things.

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll just put my stuff in my trailer.” You said.

Protocol said that you would each get your own trailer, as the other actors did, but people didn’t actually expect you both to use your own. Most people on the crew knew of your relationship, hence why yours was right next to hers.

“Right,” Flo nodded pointedly.

You recognized her attitude, but you really didn’t want to fight, so you ignored it and left her trailer.

That evening you headed out, and took time to walk around town. Dubrovnik by night quickly became one of your favorite places to be. In another life, if you worked as art connoisseur you’d definitely live here, you think. You told Florence you wouldn’t coming back for dinner, and you didn’t miss the disappointment on her face. It was something you learned to deal with, or else you wouldn’t have survived this long.

Settling into an outdoor table at a restaurant in the town square, you asked for the kitchen’s most popular dish once you’ve caught a waiter walking by. Halfway through the meal, you pulled your phone out to see if you’ve had any messages. There were only a couple of work emails and texts from your friends back home checking in. None from Flo, though.

“Sorry?” You looked up and saw a couple of young women smiling eagerly down at you. “Are you Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yeah.” You mustered your best smile.

“We’re really big fans of yours. Can we take a picture with you?”

You had hoped to not be disturbed this evening, but to preserve your public image you stood up and smiled as one of the girls pointed her phone camera at all of you.

“And um . . .” she started fishing in her bag, “is it okay if you give this to Florence?”

“Yeah, no problem. Have a good night, ladies.” With giggles behind their hands, they scuttled away.

It was a greeting-card sized booklet with Florence’s character from Black Widow hand-drawn on one side, and a letter addressed to her on the other. You studied the drawing for a bit, then put it away and finished your meal.

When you got back to your shared apartment, the lights were all off. Flo was laying in bed when you peaked in. You quietly placed the card on her nightstand and went to the bathroom to shower. Slipping into bed quietly so as not to wake Flo, you watched her for a moment, her back facing you, her shoulder rising and falling with every breathe of sleep she took.

Suddenly her smell overtook your senses, and you instantly felt at ease. Somehow you thought that as long as she was with you, it was going to be okay. You were Florence and Y/N, you would work it out one way or another.

Gently wrapping your arm around her, you placed a small kiss on her cheek and retracted to your side of the bed.

Staring at the card you had placed in front of her, Florence was squeezing her eyes shut to stop the tears, as she listened to your breathing even out.

Until then, Florence was ready to ignore that there was something wrong with your relationship. All great couples go through stuff, and they are great because they fix it together. She’s seen it in her own parents and they were the sole reason she believed in true love. She thought she had found it with you.

Until she saw you mingling with one of your new castmates. She felt jealousy building in the pit of her stomach, watching you laugh and converse the way that she wished you would with her.

Florence had met Hoyeon before during rehearsals. Her smiley and amiable nature made her sure that they would get along well, and maybe even form a friendship outside of work. So Flo couldn’t just start hating Hoyeon now that she’s unknowingly put herself between her and you.

She pulled out her phone, staring at the message she wrote but didn’t send to you.

Good luck today!! 💕

Florence deleted the text and headed into the hair-and-makeup trailer.

It became worse the longer the shoot went on. She felt like with every passing day it was getting harder to talk to you, as every time she did you would only answer with a word or two.

She never let this deter her from work, though. She felt like letting it show would be letting you get the last laugh, and until she figured out when the hell it all went wrong, it was not going to happen.

“‘S so nice to have another Brit on-set. In a sea of coffee drinkers, I don’t feel so alone drinking my tea.”

“It’s amazing how a cup of tea can make you feel so patriotic.” She laughed, watching her colleague settle down in the chair next to her.

Sam laughed and sipped from his mug. From where she sat, she could see the tea wetting his mustache and deflating slightly when he pulled it away.

“It’s crazy that it’s taken me this long to do a film with you.” He told her. “It felt like forever ago when we came in to read for Lady Macbeth. I was so hoping that you got the part, and then you did.”

“I’m pretty sure Will Oldroyd tore his hair out trying to decide for the Sebastian part. There were definitely several mental breakdowns.” She turned towards him in her chair, holding your gaze for a split second as you followed the director out from set.

“I adored that project. I was gutted, but it turned out great so no complaints from me there.”

Sam Claflin was a charming man. There were times when Flo had thought back to him after the Lady Macbeth chemistry read. He was married then, but she found herself slightly disappointed when he wasn’t chosen opposite her for the film in the end. The actor circle was small enough, even more so among British actors. She knew Aaron T-J. who knew Richard M. who knew Lily J. who knew Sam.

“But here we are again,” she said.

“So we are,” he flashed a smile at her. “Hey, some of us are gonna go to the pub down the street this weekend. You should come, bring Y/N too while you’re at it.”

“Yeah,” Flo nodded, her smile less now. “I think that’d be good for us.”

You were home by the time that she was. You were on the couch watching a movie, and gave her a small nod with your head turned to her.

“You’re not in bed.” To her surprise.

“Just wanted to wait for you.”

Flo didn’t say a word after that, then set her things aside to go wash up.

She showered, brushed her teeth, them began her nightly skincare routine. In the reflection, she spotted you sauntering into the bathroom, coming up behind her. Wordlessly, you proceeded to place small kisses on her shoulder where her skin wasn’t covered by her tank top.

Letting out a low sigh, she let you continue to trail kisses along her neck, up her jaw, whilst your hands coaxed her waist eagerly. You swiftly turned her around, finding her lips.

Short gasps and throaty moans filled the room as you continued making out, the physical contact dearly missed by Florence. She wanted to pretend like everything was okay, and it would be so much easier to let you carry her to the bed and fuck her like she’s been wanting for a while, but she couldn’t.

“What’s the occasion?” She asked.

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t touched me in ages.” Flo said breathlessly, feeling your kisses on her neck stop. “What’s all this for?”

You sighed, and let her go. Only then did she notice her heavy breaths, and her heart hammering in her chest.

“Do you not want to do this?” You asked. “We don’t have to.”

“I’m just tired today, that’s all.” Florence lied, partially. She just didn’t have the energy to do this today.

“Okay,” you said quietly, and put some toothpaste on your brush.

“Sam invited us to go down to the pub on Saturday. You wanna go?”

She didn’t miss the slight flare of your nose at the mention of Sam. “Yeah, sure.”

Flo went to bed, feeling a headache already brewing.

On the day, you came up with some half-assed excuse to not go. You couldn’t stand seeing Sam Claflin blatantly flirting with your girlfriend, just the thought of it made your stomach churn.

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There was a difficult scene coming up, one that would certainly attract attention from critics and make Florence shine during award season.

“Morning, Pam.” You entered the makeup trailer.

“Look who showed up, huh?” You giggled, and kissed the old woman on the cheek.

“Traffic.” You smirked, sipping on your coffee.

“Oh, please. Like I haven’t heard that excuse a million times before. It’s you putting that caffeinated stuff in your body every single time I see you. Sit down.” She teased, gesturing you towards the chair.

“You sound like my mother, Pam.” You said, making her roll her eyes. “Hey, where’s Flo?”

“Flo? She had to go to rehearsals early, for that big scene, remember? She didn’t tell you?”

When you woke up this morning, the other side of the bed was empty. You knew that about the scene, of course, just not that she’d be leaving early. There might have been a last-minute notice that you didn’t know about, Flo didn’t tell you.

“I guess not.”

When you were finished with makeup, you were told you had a few hours until your scene would be shot. You’d have some time to rest, but you soon left the makeup trailer and headed to where you knew Flo’s scene would be shot.

You stood on the side watching Flo hit her mark, as the director got behind the camera. There was a hint of nervousness on her face as she breathed in and out that you normally didn’t see. But you didn’t fret because this was Flo—Florence Pugh—and acting was like second nature to her.

A few steps away, there he was—Sam—standing on his own cue, getting ready for the scene.

“And . . . action!”

“You know everyone told me this would past, that I’d move past this—“

“Hey, let’s do that with some more emotions, yeah? Feel the grief, Florence.”

“O-Okay.” She was surprised at his remark, yet she was quick to shake it off with a few sobering blinks. Her eyes caught yours for a split second as she scanned the set.

You could see Sam’s mouth moving, “you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Action!”

“You know everyone told me this would past, that I’d move past this.” She looked more grim than the last take, eyes far in the distance.

No matter how long you’ve known Flo, how many times you watch her work, you’d never get tired of seeing her act. It was as if acting was her life force, and she always gave her all and more into every take. You were sure someone like her would go down as one of the industry’s best one day, and here you were getting to witness it first-hand, and to see the person she was behind the camera too.

“Cut!” The director, Julian pulled off his headset in frustration. “I need more, Florence! More! Come on, I know you can do it!”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ve just been—“ You watched her through the monitor. “Let me do it again.”

Her chest was rising and falling heavily, so much so that you were afraid she might run out of breath. She started her monologue.

“You know everyone told me this would past, that I’d move past this. But how can I? How can I when he’s still out there? My precious baby boy. The police can think he ran away all he wants, but I know Liam. I know he would never, ever run away like that. Something happened to him, I know it! Something awful’s happened to my baby, and I can’t fucking do anything about it! How am I supposed to move past this when my only son is missing?!”

“Cut!” Julian yelled. “Brilliant! Brilliant, Florence!”

Despite your current situation with her, you could only smile watching her sweep the entire crew off their feet with her performance. The emotions hung so heavily on each word that made you almost believe she had lived through the torment of losing a child.

The take had been called, yet the tears never stopped, and her sobs never ceased. She was kneeling on the floor, holding her chest as her cries choked back painfully. She was crying and crying without cessation. She couldn’t stop.

“What happened?” You heard the director murmured to his assistant, and she only shrugged, puzzled.

The set was dead-silent, yet no one came by Flo’s aid, as she curled in on herself, still sobbing. Sam was dumbfounded too, and hovered over her like a powerless spring toy.

For a split second, Julian caught your eyes, just before you had taken off running to where she was. You quickly knelt on the floor, and brought her to your chest.

Her face buried itself in your neck, as her arms came to wrap around your torso. You had asked the director for a break to which he hesitated, but ultimately agreed, because he knew too—Florence was in no shape to work for the rest of the day.

“I’m here, love.” You brought her to her feet. ”Come on, let’s get out of here.”

By the time you got to her trailer, only quiet sniffle remained as a result of her uncontrollable breakdown minutes before. You guided her towards the couch at the back of the trailer, and kneeled in front of her.

“Take deep breaths for me, okay?” You said, standing up to fetch the half-drunk water bottle on the table.

You opened the bottle and handed it to her, when she swatted your hand away with a frustrated click of the tongue.

“What are you doing?” She shook her head, eyeing you. “It’s been weeks since we last had a real conversation, and now you pretend like you care.”

“No, don’t start.” You stood up, wanting nothing more than to be done with this conversation.

“When, then?” She held you back by your arm. “When we’ve already broken up, you move out, and spend your time bed-hopping or whatever it is that you’ve been doing away from me?”

“That’s not fair,” you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowed, “no, you can’t talk.”

“This was a mistake. I knew I shouldn’t have done this movie with you. I knew it would cause tension or amplify whatever the fuck has been going on between us.” Her voice cracked. “So what the fuck is going on between us, Y/N, because I cannot stand another day of this.”

You had been gritting your teeth this entire time, wanting nothing to do with this anymore, because the truth was you’ve been avoiding the elephant in the room ever since you first felt it. This rift between you two, like you were both standing on pieces of ice, drifting further away from each other. And like standing on ice in the Arctic, it was cold, disorienting, and isolating.

“I don’t know.” You said simply.

Flo scoffed quietly.

“Y/N, do you still want to be with me?”

You bit the inside of your cheeks hard. The truth was you didn’t quite know.

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You let yourself have one finally meal in Croatia before you had to leave. It was a Wednesday afternoon, even for this time of year it was most quiet downtown. A short walk down the square you would reach the restaurant that you dined at the first time you explored the city. Flo had flown back to LA days before, as soon as filming wrapped. You thought it must have been her trying to get away from you as quickly as possible. The conversation was left on-hold after that day, and neither of you spoke about it, or to each other for that matter other than for work.

Just before you sat down, you spotted the director with a meal of his own, sunglasses on and a cigarette in hand.

“Y/N! Come, join me!” He called before you could turn the other way.

“Hey, Julian.” You smiled. He offered you to take from his pack, but you refused.

“Have you seen much of the city while we’ve been here?“ You felt like a little kid having to sit by its guardian so as not to cause a disturbance.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I ate here the first day I came, actually.”

“Good, good. To travel is to open your mind to adventure. And for artists, that is important.” Julian took a drag, the blunt shining red at the tip. “You’re a great artist, Y/N. Your generation needs more people like you. Florence, too. I’m glad you two found each other.”

Across the square, the busker playing the trumpet had finished a song, and everybody around began to clap and drop money into the hat he put in front of himself.

“I think Flo’s better than me,” you said.

You didn’t look up, but from the corner of your eyes you could see him study you for a moment.

“There’s poise in you, Y/N. A tight-lipped coldness that made you perfect for this role. Now, I don’t know how it serves you in your day-to-day life, but that’s what makes you a great artist.”

It was easy to blame all of your problems on a single character flaw, to pretend that it’s a rotten part of you that couldn’t be fixed and people would just have to accept that part of you, because that was just who you are. But you saw how the rotten part of you—the one that Julian so highly praises—was poisoning your relationship, it was poisoning her.

“Where is Florence, Y/N?”

“She flew back home a couple of days ago.” You fumbled with your fingers.

“Listen,” Julian sat up. “Can I give you a word of guidance?” You nodded. “Sometimes we find ourselves at crossroads from which our lives would change forever once we’ve crossed them. Regret is a vicious predator, Y/N. It sneaks up on you like a ghost, when you’re eating, when you’re out running errands, when you’re making love. Once it’s got you, it sinks its teeth in and you’ll feel the pain soaking in slowly, agonizingly so. I’m proud to have done this film with you, Y/N, I really am. I just hope it wouldn’t be the end of another beautiful thing in your life.”

Your lower lip trembled, feeling Julian put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You feared the animal had already sunken its teeth into you.

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Your muscles ached from immobility, having sat on a plane for 14 hours. The sun had just risen by the time you were at your front door.

Billie was the only one to greet you with a wagging tail when you were inside.

“Hi, baby,” you whispered, scratching the spot at the back of her head that the dog so loved.

Wheeling your suitcases further inside, you left them in the living room before ascending the stairs.

You had had your thoughts written down in an unwinding Notes page, something you did on the plane. But when you saw her resting figure on the bed, tightly curled under the sheets, the words died in your throat.

You felt it again as you slowly sat at the edge of the bed, that warm feeling spreading all over your body whenever you see her, the urge to reach out and touch her. But you were afraid she would be maimed by your poison.

“Hey, you’re back.” She rubbed her eyes, sitting up.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” You said.

“It’s okay.” Flo shook her head softly, itching a spot on her forearm. “How was the flight—“

“I’m sorry, for everything. I shouldn’t ‘ve . . .” You swallowed. “I hate that this is our reality now. I care about you, and I hate that we’re like this.”

Everything you wrote in your Notes app had seemingly vanished out the window. Flo, with sleepy eyes and furrowed eyebrows, listened.

“I felt as if . . . you’d been distant, that you’d rather spend your time with others—your friends—rather than with me. And I should have gone to you about it, instead I let my jealousy and insecurities dictate the way I acted.”

“You hurt me a lot, Y/N.”

“I know.” You whispered, wiping tears away harshly. “If you don’t wish to be with me anymore—“

“That’s not what I want.” Flo said firmly. “I want you to tell me what’s in that head of yours. Lately, it feels like you’ve blocked me out. I don’t want you to run away, but I can’t keep going if you continue to stray away from me. Breaking up would be so much easier, but I don’t want easy. I want you.”

You nodded frantically, a loud sob ripping through your throat. In that moment, you could only do what your most human desires told you to do. You sought comfort in her arms, knowing that no matter how hard you collided into her, she’d be willing to catch you. And then you weren’t so afraid anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you kept mumbling over and over.

Flo was crying too, and kissed the top of your head. “For the record, I’m never working with you again.”

“Deal.”

One taste of loneliness was enough.

#florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh imagines #florence pugh angst

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edmunsonss · 1 year

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You Belong With Me || E.M.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN! Reader

Summary: Miscommunication and feelings that might not be reciprocal put your friendship with Eddie, your best friend, at risk. Should you tell him how you feel? Or will someone beat you to it and confess their feelings first?

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Swearing, smoking... that’s about it really. The slight reference might not make much sense on this part but it will in the future.

Masterlists & Taglist

A/N: I started writing this during my first month of college or so. It’s far from being done, but someone has given me the little push I needed to finally get this first part out there. Wanted to give thanks to @mochaoreos for reading this (and more) and giving me feedback, I appreciate it loads :)

°∴,*⋅✲°∴ °∴,*⋅✲°∴ °∴,*⋅✲°∴

You had just arrived home after going to another one of Corroded Coffin’s shows at The Hideout. Eddie was trailing right behind you as you threw your jacket on the couch and announced your arrival. To no one’s surprise, the only response you got was utter silence, meaning your father was still away at the work trip he had promised to return early from, while your mother had stayed back in the office to work.

Any other night, you would’ve been upset at the thought of having to eat dinner alone. Thankfully enough, Eddie happened to be with you, which made things better. In fact, you were excited at the thought of having the house to yourselves because it meant you’d finally get the chance to have a movie night.

You stared back at Eddie with a bright glint in your eyes, which made him chuckle, “What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder lightly before making your way to the kitchen, “I was just thinking—”

“Oh dear, we really are in trouble, aren’t we?” He teased with a smirk. You scoffed and ignored him, instead kneeling down to peek into the cabinet where you kept your baking supplies and ingredients.

“Rude. Anyway, I was thinking that, since we’re in the first week of October, it’s like the perfect opportunity to have a scary movie marathon. We could even bake some cookies!” You exclaimed, an excited smile on your face.

Now, one thing about Eddie was that he wasn’t big on baking whatsoever. In fact, he despised it because anything he tried to bake without your guidance turned out to be a health hazard. However, he’d pretend to be the biggest fan of baking in the phase of the earth if he got to see your eyes shine and face brighten in excitement over and over again.

So he nodded and helped you gather all the ingredients for normal sugar cookies while you ventured out into the living room to play some music. You heard Eddie groan loudly when a Bee Gees album he’d heard a million times already—thanks to you, of course—started playing loudly. You snickered evilly before sauntering back towards the kitchen.

“Please turn that shit off,” Eddie whined, but you could tell from the smile on his face that he was merely joking and enjoyed the album much more than he’d ever admit. He’d once told you Bee Gees music would be nice to get high to, which had you laughing for a while.

You let Eddie work on the frosting while you focused on making the cookie dough. As anyone would expect from you both, things got messy pretty quickly. His dark hair ended up covered in flour and your face splattered with colorful frosting. You shared a lot of laughs with your best friend as he helped you remove the frosting from your face with a wet towel and you tried to shake the flour out of his hair to no avail. You felt guilty for ruining his hair, knowing how much effort he put into styling it.

Eddie didn’t take your guilt for a second and made you drop the cookie cutter in your hand before he pulled you close to him when How Deep Is Your Love started playing. You leaned your head on his chest as he swayed you both side to side to the slow rhythm of the music. You tried to ignore the way your heart picked up at the gesture and tried your hardest to bury the thoughts that started to surface in the back of your mind.

“Never thought I’d see a day where metalhead Eddie Munson would be slow dancing to a Bee Gees song,” You laughed, leaning your head back slightly to get a better look at him. “Wonder what the Hellfire guys would say if they knew, especially Henderson.”

Eddie shook his head as he gently pulled you closer again,“Say it and they’ll all call bullshit. They think too much of their Dungeon Master.”

You knew you were one of the few people, besides Wayne, who got to see this side of Eddie. The side of him that wore his heart on his sleeve and would never stop smiling or being affectionate towards those he loved. You got to know the Eddie that would beg for a hug after a tough day and who’d cuddle with you when it got too cold—or on any occasion really, he needed no excuses to cuddle. You treasured that with your whole heart.

It was hard for Eddie, being vulnerable. He always expected something bad to happen, whether it was an insult, a prank, or a joke. He felt like luck had never been and would never be on his side, which often translated into insecurity and isolation. Yet, for some reason, he trusted you enough to know you were the exception.

“You really are their idol, huh?” You smiled, aware of how much the Hellfire boys loved him.

“You say their,” He pointed out, “Am I not yours too?”

“Of course not, I can see right through you, Munson. I know you’re a big softie on the inside, whole meanie act doesn’t work with me. I do admire you, though, if that makes your big head feel any better.”

Eddie’s smile only grew at your words and you felt him give your waist a soft squeeze. He leaned in close to you, his dark hair tickling your cheek as he whispered in your ear, “I admire you too, more than you could ever imagine.”

His words left you even more flustered than you already were, but you didn’t give it time to let it show. Instead, you pulled away from his comforting embrace and reached for the cookie cutter you’d dropped earlier.

“C’mon now, instead of being so cheesy, why don’t you go take a shower while I cut the cookies and put them in the oven, yeah? I promise I’ll have a bowl of candy ready when you're back.”

He nodded and broke into your personal space once again—not like you cared one bit—so he could leave a kiss on your forehead, “You’re the best. Are my things still where I left them?”

You hummed and shook your head yes as you started pressing the cookie cutter into the rolled out dough, “Yep, top drawer underneath the sink. The towels are back in the closet though.”

While Eddie was away showering you tried to busy yourself with accommodating the cookies in the baking trays to ignore the stupid butterflies fluttering around in your tummy. It was an annoying feeling that had started to become familiar since it seemed to appear ever single fucking time Eddie did as much as look at you funny.

You had started to think that maybe you had an allergy to Eddie’s drugstore cologne. As blatantly stupid and far from the truth your thoughts were, ignorance was bliss. If worrying about a stomach bug rather than your feelings was the thing that would help you sleep peacefully at night, you’d keep it up.

You spent the rest of your time deciding on which record to play next, still indecisive on whether to play some Metallica or Black Sabbath. You went for Master of Puppets and let it play as you gathered a few of the blankets scattered around in the living room and dropped them on the couch that was right in front of the TV.

Eddie silently crept up behind you as you accommodate the pillows on the couch. At some point, he stood right behind you and reached up his arms to tickle your sides, making you jump up in surprise in the process.

“Holy shit, Eddie! You scared me!” You exclaimed and turned in his embrace to hit his chest in the process. He laughed loudly and gave you an apologetic look that you knew he didn’t even mean.

Eddie didn’t let you go as he started humming along to the song playing, Battery, “This is definitely much better than your hippie shit.”

“The Bee Gees are not even hippies! C’mon, they’re disco icons, the best of the best,” You argued back.

“You hype them up too much, they’ve got nothing on ABBA,” You gasped in mock offense and pushed him back as your face morphed into one of fake disgust, playing up your theatrics to get a laugh out of him.

“You cannot have any cookies, Munson. You don’t deserve them after the blasphemy that just left your mouth.” You finally get the laugh you were looking for after that comment. He flipped his damp hair on your face, which made you groan as you dried your face.

You started to walk away from him and into the kitchen, “You’re such an asshole, Eds.”

You could hear his loud laugh at that and could almost imagine the way he shook his head before trailing right behind you.

Once the cookies were ready and out of the oven, you disappeared to go get changed, not before giving Eddie a warning, “Don’t you dare eat the frosting while I’m gone.”

————————————

When you got back, the sight that greeted you made a big smile appear on your face. Eddie had turned up the volume of the music so much that even the neighbors would be able to hear, then he got to work.

He’d pulled his long hair into a messy bun that sat at the nape of his neck with hairs sticking out both at the bottom of the bun and around his face. He was hunched over the counter, a bag of bright red frosting in his hand and he was singing along to the music. You couldn’t see what he was doing, so you moved closer to him and peered over his shoulder.

You stifled a laugh at his action. The reason why he wanted you to cut up some cookies in the shape of gingerbread men suddenly made sense to you as you watched him frost a poor decapitated gingerbread man.

You didn’t quite know it, but you’d remember that moment forever. How could you not? Eddie looked beautiful like that, with a slight pout of concentration on his lips and furrowed brows, strands of curly dark hair framing his face. You loved it all… you loved him.

Those three words made your world stop spinning on its axis the moment you caught the thought floating around in your brain. Your heart plummeted to your stomach as everything you had been trying to ignore rose to the surface and refused to sink back down. Of course the stupid butterflies were not the result of a stomach bug, nor did heart problems have anything to do with the way your heart sped up when you were around Eddie.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ That was the only word that existed now, the only one you could think of as you stared at your best friend with eyes as wide as saucers.

He eventually turned to look at you, proudly showing off the gingerbread man with a few streaks of frosting going down its body from where the head should be. Had it been any moment, you would have laughed at the gruesomeness, but you weren’t able to do anything other than stare.

Eddie tilted his head to the side and laughed awkwardly at the way you were staring at him, “What is it? Have I got something on my face?”

His words brought you back to reality. You blinked and met his eyes as you tried to come up with something to say. Your stare moved all over his face until you spotted an incriminating bit of red frosting on the corner of his lips.

You gladly took it as a way out and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, “Yes, right there! I thought I told you not to eat the frosting, Eds.”

Eddie quickly moved to cover up the evidence by wiping his face, but missed the spot every time. You took a step closer and wiped at the corner of his lip with your thumb. It could’ve been your imagination, but you swore you saw his eyes soften as he looked into yours, a soft smile slowly forming on his face.

Had you been bold enough, you would’ve stood closer to him and taken his rosy cheeks into your warm hands to press your lips against his chapped ones. You would’ve told him all about the feelings you’d been bottling up for months. You didn’t. You didn’t because you couldn’t even fathom the idea of losing him, of ruining years of friendship for feelings that he didn’t reciprocate. You couldn’t let your treacherous heart make you lose him.

So the only thing you did was cough to break the silence and took a step back, “I’ll forgive you if you let me play one of dad’s old scary movies.”

“No fucking way, I’m still traumatized by the last one.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Two movies, a plate of cookies, and a bowl of candy later, you were sitting on the porch of your house, a thick blanket over both your backs. You were leaning your head against his shoulder as you smoked together. As much as you hated to admit it, you hadn’t been able to stare into his eyes, nor had you been able to talk in coherent sentences, which was why you were thankful for the silence that was between you.

A cloud of smoke appeared before you as you exhaled and gave the cigar back to Eddie. In a kind gesture, Eddie pulled you flush to his side and accommodated the blanket that was about to fall off your shoulder. You mumbled out a soft thanks and nuzzled your face into his neck with a sigh. The smell of cigarette smoke mixed with his musky and cheap cologne was comforting, like a drug you wanted more of.

“Hey sweets, can I ask a question?” He mumbled. You hummed in affirmation.

“Have you ever… Do you ever wonder what being in a relationship’s like?” There was a beat of silence where you didn’t say anything, so he started rambling, “I’m sorry if it’s a stupid question. I know we never talk about shit like this but ever since Gareth met Simone, I can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like.”

You almost burst out laughing at the irony of his question, “Only like, everyday. When you like someone I guess it’s common to…”

You trailed off, realizing your mistake. Any trace of humor on your face was quickly wiped away by the words you’d just uttered. You trusted Eddie with everything you had, but you knew that uttering those words out loud had been a mistake. You knew he wouldn’t let it go until you confessed.

He pulled away from you slightly so he could look at you better. His dark eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed at the new piece of information he had just received, “You like someone?”

His tone indicated nothing but pure curiosity. There was no teasing, so you decided to tell him the truth, “I do, yeah.”

“What happened to the ‘I don’t believe in relationships’ shit?” Eddie wondered. You groaned.

“Don’t be unfair, Eds. I said that after I got my heart broken. Even if that wasn’t the case though, people can change.” You tried to defend yourself, which made him chuckle.

Unbeknownst to you, your defensiveness had told him much more than you’d let on about the subject you had eyes on. Still, he didn’t say much, “They’re that special then. To make you change and all.”

“I guess you could say that,” You replied and, for some reason, felt yourself get bolder as seconds passed, “He’s sweet and kind, creative too. Also has the coolest hair and he’s a genius at playing the guitar.”

You were dead sure he’d caught on by then, especially after the guitar part. You thought he had noticed, which was why you weren’t surprised when his arm fell to his side and he stood up, avoiding eye contact with you.

He scratched the back of his neck and mumbled out a few words you couldn’t make out, “You should uh… tell him all that, if you haven’t already. For what it’s worth, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Then Eddie paused, and there was a beat of silence that seemed to stretch out like a never ending corridor, “I should go, don’t wanna get home after Wayne does.”

He promised to call before getting into his van and driving away. You sat on the porch until you finished the remainder of the cigarette you’d been smoking. You tried to distract yourself by watching TV, it was already past two in the morning so you figured you’d wait for your mother to get home, knowing it wouldn’t be long until she did.

When you finally heard her car pull up into the driveway, you sighed. Part of you felt relieved to have her there, hopeful that maybe she wouldn’t be too tired so you could talk to her. However, the bigger part of you felt guilty for even thinking of holding her back from going to bed because of some teenage drama she probably didn’t give a shit about.

However, keeping it to yourself was impossible. When she walked in, despite the bags under her eyes and tired face, she sat down on the couch right next to you and asked how you were. Those words were enough to get you to break. Everything you’d been trying to hold back escaped your mouth and you spent a long time sobbing on your mother’s shoulder, sure that you had just fucked up one of the best things in your life.

Your mother didn’t ask for an explanation as she held you, so you didn’t give her one. She eventually had to get up and go to bed, finally consumed by the tiredness that was plaguing her body after her nightly shift. You stayed behind and managed to fall asleep for an hour or two before the sun finally rose. There was still hope in your heart that maybe when he called you later that morning things would be fine, as if nothing had happened. Sadly, yet to no one’s surprise, that call never came.

#eddie munson x reader

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btsmosphere · 11 months

Note

OOOO this is such a unique idea i dont think i v seen an ask game like this. big brain ru 🙇🏻‍♀️💫❤️

as for the no. 14 please!😚💕

14: Wrong place wrong time mafia au

pairing: jin, jungkook, reader ???? some combo of the above genre: mafia au, angst?, humour?, strangers to ? word count: 1180 rating: pg15 warnings: violence, threat, assault with a knife

a/n: when I first checked number 14 and saw this.. I thought 'wow, way to be vague, past me. wtf do i do here' - but in the end I had an absolute field day writing this. the longest one of the game yet! hence it also took up a bit more time than the previous ones💜thank you for playing my dear diti and I hope you enjoy your drabble😘x

This place was always quiet. Tonight especially so, even the server had yet to show themself.

For you, that was no problem. It was why you picked this restaurant, needing somewhere you could count on to be left alone after the day you’d had. Or the week. Or-

Well, safe to say, you were drained. College had been running you to the ground, all while your work was trying to load you up with more shifts as more of your coworkers left. You were one of the few not in a position to up and go, needing the cash.

Another perk of this place were the prices. Really, you didn’t know why it wasn’t busier. Good food that didn’t leave your bank account in mourning? Sure, it was a bit out of the way but you had never seen it full.

Equally, it wasn’t often that it was completely deserted. Today, you were counting your blessings for that.

Until a tinkle of the bell announced another customer. It was just the one, though, as a surreptitious glance over your shoulder told you. The new arrival seemed just as eager to mind their own business, sliding into a table far from yours and slumping backwards with a scowl.

Before he could catch your eye with that deadly look, you turned back to your own table. You weren’t blind to his attractiveness, but you were undeterred in your quest to ignore him nonetheless.

To your relief, movement finally made itself known at the counter.

Slipping from your seat, you made your way to order before the server decided to disappear again. You already knew your favourite dish here, the combination of sauce and toppings not one you had found anywhere else, so that made it easy for you.

Despite there being one more customer waiting, the server jotted down your order and swiftly left.

Shrugging, you turned to sit back down. It wasn’t your problem if the new guy had to wait. Your food was your priority.

As you stepped towards your table, the other man rose from the corner. Keeping your eyes averted from him, you headed to wait.

It seemed he had other plans.

The moment he drew level with you, he diverted without warning. No sooner could you blink than his hand was around your neck, shoving you backwards into a table. The impact was noisy, pain blooming in your lower back as the wooden legs screeched on the floor.

Gasping, your eyes found the man’s for the first time. Hard and steely, they froze you in place, helplessly trying to balance yourself against the poor table.

Gulping, you desperately willed your heartrate to calm. The man’s heavy brows were drawn together and his frown only deepened. Still gripping your collar tightly, he slowly raised his other hand, making you hiss in a breath and struggle to get away once more, fear hijacking your body.

This guy had a knife.

Were you really about to be stabbed? Way to top off the day you were having. Maybe he just wanted your wallet. You did have food to pay for, but your life seemed a bit more valuable in that moment.

Your efforts to shake him off were futile, and you grew limp as he poised the knife cooly in front of your chest.

With trepidation, you raised your eyes to his once more, preparing yourself to give in to whatever he asked so you could get out of this alive and back to your damn dinner.

Your confusion only escalated at his words.

“Weapons out. Now,” he hissed, “put them on the table.”

Clearly you stared back at him, stunned, for too long, because he jabbed the knife closer, pressing against the front of your shirt.

“Clearly you’re the one with the weapons here,” you retorted. Oops.

Watching the fury on the man’s face blaze to life, you gulped. You really were about to meet the end of a knife.

He opened his mouth, but another sound came first.

The door opening.

You let out a breath; another customer might just force your attacker to give up. But you tried not to feel too relieved just yet.

Whoever it was seemed to take a while making up their mind. Maybe the scene they were met with frightened them and the moment they unfroze they would bolt. But, after a very long few seconds, slow footsteps moved towards the pair of you.

Far from deterred, the man with the knife yanked harder on your collar. You stumbled once more against the table. Breath quickening, you diverted your gaze downwards and saw a smart pair of shoes stop close behind your assaulter.

“Let them go, Jin.”

The new voice sounded bored, but the reaction was instant. At last, the hold on your neck weakened, allowing you to slump backwards onto the table. Your mugger whipped around.

“…Jungkook?”

Staring at the scene in shock, you caught a glimpse of your saviour. Or was he? He may have distracted your attacker, but he seemed to know the man. Jin, he said?

The new man, Jungkook, was also in a suit, and clasped his hands easily in front of him. His mouth quirked into a smile, eyes flickering behind Jin to look at you. He seemed all too amused, a youthful spark captured in his eyes and sublte dimple in his cheek.

“I see you’ve made a start without me,” he observed.

“They’re… they’re not one of yours?”

Jin glanced towards you, and for the first time you didn’t find him intimidating. Gone was that hard frown, and instead he gaped not unlike a fish. Still, you held down your smile, not willing to push your luck.

Jungkook smiled blithely, saying nothing. One eyebrow raising, Jin turned back to Jungkook.

“But they… they ordered it. That dish…”

Jungkook shrugged.

“No one orders that,” Jin continued.

If you didn’t already know he was armed, you might have voiced your offence at that. He had jumped you, a complete stranger, and now he was judging your choice of dinner?

“Good to know that your intention was to cut straight to the chase,” Jungkook finally spoke up, brushing aside Jin’s line of questions, “and here I thought we had agreed to a peaceful meeting.”

“You- You set me up!” Jin exclaimed, “They’re a decoy!”

Suddenly, he had turned back to you again, and that anger had returned. The knife hadn’t gone anywhere either.

Jumping up, you hurriedly darted out of his reach, but Jungkook’s reflexes had you beat. His hand closed swiftly around Jin’s wrist, halting the knife in its course. The two men exchanged a heated stare, until Jin huffed and the knife clattered to the ground.

Heart still thunking against your ribcage, you glanced hopefully back out at the door. However, having moved closer when stopping Jin, Jungkook now stood in your way. He turned his attention to you.

“Sit down,” he smiled, gesturing with his free hand to the table you had just been attacked against. “Wouldn’t want to miss your dinner.”

Thank you for reading! Play my prompt roulette and get a drabble of your own here :)

#bangtanarmynet #bts mafia au #jungkook mafia #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jin x reader #jin mafia au #jin scenarios #jin imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook mafia au #bts drabble

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horizon-verizon · 7 months

Note

You should ABSOLUTELY read Ursula K. Le Guin’s essay on anti-fantasy, “Why are Americans afraid of dragons ?”. It is such a brilliant and insightful piece.

https://w3.ric.edu/faculty/rpotter/temp/waaaod.pdf

“They are afraid of dragons because they are afraid of freedom.”

I remember reading this some time ago, maybe in a college class? Reread it, and yeah in the U.S., with capitalism but not only here, people (mostly & often men) derive their sense of being from their ability to make a profit from something and deny the fantastical, and it doesn't have to even be an activity to be worth something that will give you identity. Houses, stocks, other properties, anything you can objectify and sell, or make an object and sell. Let me say patriarchal capitalism, in fact.

And yeah, it has its roots in Puritanism, which while that religious group developed as an offshoot response to the Catholic Church's spiritual hegemony--and got their idea of "pleasure=sin" because it does not have a purpose (any sex that wasn't performed for reproduction was "sodomy")--did not even try to reincorporate pre-Catholic English rituals or fairytale creatures for fear of oneself showing that you were not part of the pre-birth assignments of salvation or damnation. The fear of showing that you were damned and for the Devil instead of losing oneself to being aware of their connection to God even in the moments of prayer themselves. Thus the perpetual searching for signs of God's favor or anger.

The Following is a Long Diatribe about American Masculinity (But Honestly, A Lot will cover Men of Various Patriarchies) So if You don't Care or Want to See This, OK

(And Before it's "Not All Men!", this is about the Nature of the Practicing Man and his Masculinity; if none of this has ever determined a man's psyche and sense of self, it should be no bother)

Even though this essay was written in 1974, much of it rings true, especially after thinking/watching others talk about that recent Twitter post about men resenting their girlfriends for not breaking up with them after they purposely try to get them to break up with them with emotionally abusive behavior AND discussing mental load in domestic labor. Basically, men do that to their partners because they:

do not want to be accountable for "ruining" a relationship and being the "bad" guy (feels very fundamentalist Christian and no-fault divorcy...Joe Jonas?)

and if they could "allow" a woman to lead forward & dictate their domestic actions they themselves would not have to engage in that labor while profiting off of that labor -> low effort, high reward

To be a man is to make money, or to control money, yes?

All the while, they will never be okay with actually being alone with their own thoughts because they cannot bash their partners or anyone who offers them affection and care to assuage the pain they are not able to nor willing to try to express to those around them...even other men for fear of being humiliated for showing "useless" and "girly" emotions because they cannot "control" and "use" said emotions or compulsions to propel them into an ideal state of "focus" (NoNut November) and stability that never lasts long and is thus frustrating. There is a compulsion to get into a vague mind-state of "stability", almost as if putting a halt to the busy-busy of necessary life, but simultaneously holding life by the reins and directing it to their own desires...which they ignore once they seem too "much", or complicated.

Instead of developing better critical thinking skills or how to empathize with others and communicate apart from how to dictate and dominate for the sake of "taking" rewards for little-as-possible labor, they may fantasize about mimicking some male celeb or embodying the image of this hypermasculine "winner" at capitalism, signaled through wealth. When together, they either ignore or scoff at thoughts that were not told to them (from childhood) on "how to be a man", which they take as the official moral and phenomenological guidebook on how to perform or think of certain tasks and how to perceive certain things. And in those same get-togethers, many just go along with what their male peers say about the world around them and parrot it more often than the reverse so they can reaffirm those things and that they are performing stoic masculinity well.

Add in family trauma from fathers themselves experiencing this and alienating themselves from families (abuse and neglect as in domestic violence or never coming around to see them and pick them up for visitation) and you have a very resentful man-child who wants to be an ideal and to finally justify his own reckless pursuit of being an ideal/ideal man. The recipe for that, to them, is also, to have a penis, and then bring others "in" sexually.

This goes into another reason why men get very resentful of their partners and women in general: in lieu of what they think is "doing a lot" of mental and physical labor, they believe all a woman needs to do to be financially or emotionally set is to get someone, i.e. a man, to take care of them financially. So to see women they call "golddiggers" receive gifts and money and things they actually want to have without having a job or having that as their main source of income (impossible for most of the population) is indicative of the monolithic Woman--all women. AND because men race to reserve women or their domestic, reproductive, and sexual activities for themselves so they can prove their superiority and successful masculinity, women are more in--excuse my French--"high demand" within the patriarchal sexual dynamics. It does not matter to them that women experience a lot of sexual violence and reject or try to divert them because of the fear and/or true threat of violence and they do not link that violence to the man's need to own women. Because to deny is to justify objectifying the woman/target. So men, by default, have very low standards for a potential female "partner's" personality, as her role is economic and male-group validating above everything else.

If women could have this and I can't, all women must be "luckier" than me, so I hate her. And why should I have to provide for a woman to have sexual control over her or get her interested in me when any other guy could do better than me?

Meanwhile, they don't even get how:

anger is an emotion, and it just builds until it lashes out at the right conceived inconvenience

their preoccupancy with work-work-rewardness "proving" their masculinity directly contradicts its own purpose when they wax remorse over "all" women having the ability to gain rewards without "work" (which is it, you want eternal "rest" or eternal work? AND it is men with accumulated generational wealth or men who have no business willingly spending money they do not have)

And finally, because they perceive that they are close to that stoic-everyman-topman-ideal, that their manhood grants them proximity to it--and thus superiority over women to it--they can always replace their current partner once they do not "love" them anymore OR they look to the "upgraded" trophy woman who makes them look better to other men...until they get intimidated or resentful of that woman's success, wealth which he covets.

Man is inherently self-sabotaging and justifying it.

#u.s. society #not asoiaf #patriarchy #fiction vs reality #fantasy fiction #mini rant #capitalism #consumerism #labor in capitalism #male consumers

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golbrocklovely · 5 months

Note

Prepare yourself I was in a stream on a react channel on YT today cos the guy was doing a discussion with his followers and the guy who revealed the leaked footage on his YT channel came into chat.

He said he was sent the footage a week ago by his source and he got the video up a week after receiving the footage. He said he was not doing it for clout but he was happy to take the money he was making from the video, he had hoped it would do well because of all the 'effort' he was putting into it. (A load of bollocks if you ask me, he's clearly doing it for clout) He also said it was definitely Sam who spoke the last bit (But it''s clearly Seth's voice and Seth's mouth moving)

And worst of all he said he's in the process of making a follow up video which should be out soon, so the drama is only going to continue and maybe even get worse and I'm already dreading it. What else could he possibly have got his grubby little hands on? Is Kristin coming out of the woodwork to make the drama worse? I'm so afraid and upset, why does this hater channel have to be targeting my favourites?

Sorry I know you said you did not want to talk about this anymore but I have nowhere else to go and I'm so upset, please say something comforting because right now all I see is a descent into fandom hell and I don't want that.

so…. i'm gonna be honest with you, he's most likely just gonna make a follow up addressing what ppl said in the comments, thanking ppl, and *maybe* spilling more tea if he has any. the thing is, first off, this comment came up during the livestream.

this entire situation, to me, seems extremely fishy. first off, how did his source get this footage, bc clearly, if this source gave an actual shit about what happened to kristin, they would have released it after snc went there almost two years ago at this point. it's very obvious that the only reason this footage is leaked now is bc there is heat already on snc bc of the conjuring. secondly, unless his source is kristin, he doesn't know the real truth of what went down.

i'm not one to leak information from xplrclub. i've literally argued against fans that have done it. but i will FULL ON leak the video from the ross house, where kristin was smiling and laughing along with snc and seth, clearly AFTER she had told them about the footage and what she saw the previous night while they were there. after the police were called and everything, she still continued to be in their video and played along with them no questions asked.

so clearly, she let bygones be bygones fast.

they are on good terms with her. the texts, even according to SEG, line up with snc statement… but not his sources. he said that at the very end of his video, and then asked kristin to reach out for further comment.

i'm not being an asshole when i say this, but clearly someone is lying, and i'm gonna assume it's not the one that has direct contact with kristin aka snc.

this whole situation got blown out of proportion. while snc and seth definitely fucked up by breaking the boo buddy and seth saying that inappropriate comment, this was dealt with last year. it is only getting brought up to smear snc's name. and this dude is just enjoying the fact that in a day or so he gained like 2k subs.

ignoring him is the best option. unless he has proof of snc doing something morally wrong, idc what he has to say. and i suggest that's what you do too.

#ask #personal #snc bs

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rp-meme-central · 1 year

Text

Fallout 4 - Nick Valentine - sentence starters

1. “I told them that I was rigged to explode, and started going ‘beep... beep... beep’.”

2. “Those people treated me like a human being. I’ve been trying to return the favor ever since.”

3. “A ______’s life isn’t an easy one, but it rarely lacks for excitement.”

4. “You see a lot of people at their worst when you’re in my line of work. Hard to not let it get to you sometimes.”

5. “Another beautiful day in the most dangerous place in the world.”

6. “The only tune I want to hear right now is ______ recanting a life of villainy.”

7. “I never would have gotten this far without you.”

8. “I’m not going anywhere until I get what I came for.”

9. “All I know is that, without you, ______ would still be at large.”

10. “I just thought this would fix things. But it’s not that easy.”

11. “It was about justice, about doing what was right. And that act of goodness, that’s ours. All the good we’ve done. That’s ours and ours alone.”

12. “With you at my side, doing the kind of good we’ve done? I’m about as great as one _____ can be.”

13. “Well, to not put too fine a point on it, you’re the best damn partner I’ve ever had. So I’d say I’m doing pretty good.”

14. “I got you as a friend. There’s nothing more one old _____ could ask for.”

15. “Thanks to you, _______ is pushing up daisies and ______ is safer for it. What you’ve done, I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

16. “I used to wonder how people lasted as long as they have out here. Now I know, it’s thanks to people like you.”

17. “_____ can take a real toll on you if you let it. I’ve seen this place make monsters out of men.”

18. “Don’t pay ‘em any mind... not that they would know what to do with one anyway.”

19. “Just ignore ‘em. Not worth anyone with manners possibly getting hurt.”

20. “Only madmen could justify trying to wipe out an entire people just because they were made, not born.”

21. “All the resources they’ve got, the _______ could do a lot of good. Shame they want to wipe out my kind instead.”

22. “_____ was just here. You saw him/her/them, right?”

23. “It’s not easy to do the right thing for something that seems so evil. But everybody deserves their fair shot.”

24. “I won’t tolerate anyone mistreating the only other ______ in town I can stand.”

25. “Always wondered what you’d look like as a robot. Not too shabby.”

26. “It took me a long time to realize that home is where you make it. With some time and effort, this place could be home for you too.”

27. “I remember waking up one day in a garbage heap, a body in tatters and a head full of memories belonging to a ______ who’d been dead for _____ years. Suffice to say, it was a confusing couple of weeks.”

28. “I think his/her/their name was ______. The first person to actually speak to me after I got the boot from the ______. My first human contact in this world.”

29. “I wouldn’t normally bother you with this sort of thing, but... well, I know I can trust you at this point.”

30. “They’re just this inescapable reminder. That I’m not the person I think I am. That I’m not a person at all.”

31. “All I want is a life where I have something I can call my own.”

32. “_____’s not an easy place to travel alone. Nice to have someone watching my back.”

33. “You know, some folks are just out for themselves. Others want to help those in need. Jury’s still out which camp you’re in.”

34. “There are some crimes even you can’t get away with, _____.”

35. “No. No more jokes. You looked me in the eye and told me you were going to shape up. But that was just another load of bull.”

36. “You know, you have a funny way of showing your fondness for others.”

37. “All right, fine. But seriously, drop the buffoon act. Because this is your last shot. There won’t be another.”

38. “I’ve met a lot of scum in my line of work. People I wouldn’t throw to the _____. But you, you’re a real piece of work.”

39. “If I were your ______, I’d remember.”

40. “I always thought I was just more of their discarded trash. Never thought of the possibility that someone wanted me out. Helped me escape.”

41. “Get away from me! What the hell are you?”

42. “_____ really did help me escape the ______? I wasn’t just tossed out with the garbage?”

43. “Should I give _____ a chance? Try to accept him/her/them as my _____? He/she/they might be the only other ______ that exists.”

44. “I guess no one gets to choose their family, but when your family is built in a lab, things gets... weird.”

45. “So... ____ is dead. After all that talk about trying to accept him/her/them as family, we end up getting him/her/them killed anyway.”

46. “You know, why don’t you shut the hell up for once? I swear you care more about sounding smart sometimes than you do about who has to listen to it.”

47. “You sure you want to waltz through ______ HQ with a _____ at your side?”

48. “No! Dammit, _______, don’t listen! Hang in there!”

49. “That was one sorry negotiation up there.”

50. “With any luck, something will be making a meal out of ______ before sunrise.”

51. “It took a lot of guts to do what you did. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

52. “This is a brave new world you’ve ushered in. But I suppose it’ll do.”

53. “There really is no way to ride a seesaw with dignity.”

54. “I’d offer a game, but you probably can’t calibrate your arm sensitivity, can you?”

55. “Don’t be afraid to dream big, _____. This isn’t all you have to be.”

56. “You know, since the first time we met, I always got the sense that you would change this place. I just never expected it would be like this.”

57. “Thanks for getting me out. How did you know where to find me anyway? Not many people knew where I went.”

58. “Yeah, I’ve heard it all before. ‘You’re a freak’, ‘You’ve got something to hide’. Blah, blah, blah.”

#rp memes #sentence starters #Fallout 4 #Nick Valentine

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lemonhemlock · 1 year

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What are snapewives?

alright anons BUCKLE UP this is going to be a bumpy ride

i received this ask yesterday & externalised it to one of my friends who is a little bit of a, let's say, MEME HISTORIAN. an internet dilettante. a dabbler. and this is what she so graciously conveyed to me for you all.

"http://web.archive.org/web/20130311072442/http://www.journalfen.net/community/fandom_wank/1015949.html?thread=134116749#t134116749 ^okay this is honestly the best source if you want a quick and dirty nothing can explain it better than the post that started it all it loads slowly but it is the post I first saw :))) in fucking 2006 bc I've always been an asshole

there's also a journal article on this: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/276042424_'Snapewives'and'Snapeism'_A_Fiction-Based_Religion_within_the_Harry_Potter_Fandom :))))

also, as someone who's occasionally dipped into pagan tumblr, the way they used to talk about snape is the way some of them talk about their gods :)))

Lady Darkness: understand, I can only write when I can concentrate on my love for him. Indeed he feels so very close then, like he's looking over your shoulder to see if you do it like he wants it to be.. Sometimes I don't write for weeks, and then suddenly I am a writing machine..endless and full of ideas. Putting on some music helps though..if you know what he likes. Ever tried classical? It works really well, I think he likes it, just like he likes the dark music (not too fast, a little vampire rock style ) I hope he'll be telling you to keep making pictures, they're awesome! Some are so good I feel so moved by them I have to see them, and yes..he feels so close then sigh

https://fanlore.org/wiki/Snapewives ^the fanlore page is easier to understand, but it doesn't have the impact of the original

ETA: On October 14, Lady Darkness and Snapemaniac reconciled. Said Snapemaniac, "I have returned to the Master's Dungeons. My loyalties lie with Severus. As of today, they're talking about how it'd feel to be "caught full force in that glare" of Snape's.

insane :))))

ETA 3: Snapemaniac is just as nuts. "Severus Snape intimidates JKRowling. This is why she wouldn't want to meet him. She is afraid of him."

the comments are also a riot, if you can have a look at some of them (the webarchive LJ link)

Severus is looking over his shoulder at me and he seems suspicious of my laughter- "TELL ME, CAN YOU READ?….MY NAME IS SEVERUS SNAPE, THEREFORE, DO NOT TAKE LIBERTIES WITH IT!"- SNARLED SNAPE The things I feel Severus won't tolerate: 1) Being dominated 2) Disrespect (do not call him just Snape, he hates that.) 3) Prying into his personal life/disregarding his privacy 4) Being told to give up his grudges [talking about Potter] 5) Disobedience to his commands/advice/wishes 6) Being ignored 7) Undermining his authority to anyone else 8) Silly behaviour/childish behaviour 9) Being harrassed/made fun of/laughed at/picked on He really hates this /He sees laughter as nonsense and doesn't waste his time with it./ 10) Wasting his time and efforts 11) Half-heartedness/weakness of any kind/being thought of as weak 12) Shortening of his name and adding 'cutesy' words to it [UGH!!] 13) Improper use of language and misspelling words/vulgarity-constantly 14) Laziness of any kind [All Capricorn No-Nos] Imagine Severus standing at your back with his nose pressed to your ear, growling in that deep voice. Oh Mercy!!

you just don't get drama like this anymore

https://www.reddit.com/r/HobbyDrama/comments/d4wwir/harry_potter_fandom_married_to_severus_snape_on/ ^this post is also a primer of sorts :))

i'm sorry I couldn't provide the full lowdown, but I think this is good bc it's mostly primary sources :)))) you can't beat that"

#i'm bravely putting this in the tag #snapewives #cowardice is the most terrible of vices #after all #snapewives nation state

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adamsart · 1 year

Text

Eventually 3 days later I talked to my wife and the only thing she had to tell me was I was an asshole because she really liked the guy and now he wouldn’t see her because he was afraid I was going to kill him. After 10 years together that’s all she had to say oh she also closed our joint bank accounts the first thing that morning so I couldn’t get to any of the 7 thousand dollars I had just deposited. I only saw Christine 2 times after that both of which she fucked me out of more money -and leaving me high and dry in a foreign place all she would say is you don’t belong here in Sacramento go home. My third surgery had to be rescheduled and I started a three year run living in motels and selling dope and took care of my homegirls that worked for there money. All of my possessions were either burned or given to my replacement even my dogs and my truck. I wasn’t going to be defeated. I came up with a method to take prescription pads and altering them to allow me to basically write any prescription I wanted and if they needed to verify that was fine too I had someone answering when they called. So having my new hustle having the pills my doc gave me and selling BTH I usually had a lot of cash but it would come and go quickly and people were trying to rob me or steal from me and that was there full time job. I put up with it. It became almost expected that anytime I let my guard down I was going to get shit taken. Even the police were stealing my money seriously cops stole more than anyone 17,000$ once and 36,000$ the second time. Shout out to Sacramento and placer counties hope you guys enjoyed your bonuses. So that was life for 3 years I eventually got my third surgury and had to heal on the second floor of a motel in Folsom ca. One day my homeboy slash part time pimp full time badass baybay came thru my room for some shit he dropped by and said he was just getting back from picking up a crazy chick for our mutual friend and wanna be player full time tweaker mark and was it alright if he brought her in she was acting scary and needed to get high. When they got to the room she walked in first and b lined it to the sink where she got under it facing the corner and rocking back and forth. She was flawless, young, beautiful she had this innocent energy that made you want to save her. So I ask beybey wtf homie is she good and how old is that girl I honestly was worried she was 16 or something. He told me she just needed to get high and calm down so I loaded a pipe and pulled her aside to see if she was ok and she was crying. She was terrified of being pimped out she knew bay bay was a pimp and he told her on there way to sac that it cost a lot for the gas and mark said that she would have gas money and she didn’t and so he asked how are you going to be able to pay me or when are you going to be able to pay me. Either way she made it sound like he was trying to gorilla pimp her to get his money. So I told her not to trip cause bay bay wasn’t a gorilla pimp so I tossed him 50$ and told him her debt was paid. Gave her some dope and bay bay took her the rest of the way to mark. After that Shelby made every effort to try to be around me and I was definitely into her so I made every attempt to hang out with her without offending marks ass too much cause he was already laying claim on little Shelby in fact I remember him calling her his little meal ticket or his future retirement she was sitting on a goldmine. He was steadily trying to get that needle in her vain and after he got her high on meth from a point it would only be a matter of time and a few tall tales before she would turn herself out and after that she was going to end up being a 2-300$ an hour girl and I’m sure she would have been pulling 4or 5 tricks a day. I waited for my opportunity cause Shelby was brainwashed she actually called this MF her savior man ignorance is bliss. So when she called me crying saying mark had kicked her out and wanted her to go back home until she could get the car her mother stole from her back.

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masn-mount · 2 years

Note

my request is something i think you’d be great at writing out. your first time meeting mason in person at a mutual friend’s birthday party at their house (maybe christian, ben, whoever you’d prefer, really) and you actually getting along really well from the beginning? like him being really flirty and having the same sense of humor as you. whoever ends up being your mutual friend asks everyone if they’d like to stay over and have a sleepover since you’re all at his house already, so you and mason chat the whole night away, maybe play some games, whatever you feel like. i know this is kind of vague, but i feel like you would know exactly what to do with it. only write this if you feel like it, don’t bother if you don’t really want to hehe 😅

thank you for your request anon! I really hope you enjoy it. sorry it took so long but I found myself struggling with this one, mainly because I didn’t know how to end it but here we go! xx

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, rushed ending

words: 5,6k

golden boy

You weren’t going to pretend like you didn’t know who Mason Mount is, you’ve heard plenty about him from your mutual friends but you had never ended up in the same place until tonight and ever since his arrival you had not been able to take your eyes off of him. The way he was moving around the room like he owned it, making everyone around him laugh was so endearing to you. Your bestfriend standing next to you had noticed, “you’re going to be drooling soon” is what she said with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile. You just shrugged and took a sip from your drink.

After a call from Declan who was standing next to you, it took Mason a few seconds to approach the group you were with. After greeting his bestfriend and the rest of your friends his eyes set on you and you would be lying if you didn’t feel a bit dizzy at the way his eyes moved up and down your body. You could only hope the flush on your cheeks looked natural because of the heat in the room. He extended his palm towards you, “you must be y/n. I’ve heard loads about you from,” he nodded dowards Declan, “that big mouth. I’m Mason.” Declan had tried to set you and Mason up before, telling you that he ‘fancied the fuck out of you’ so the fact that he had talked about you to Mason wasn’t a shock. You smiled at Mason before reaching your hand across to meet his palm. “He does talk a lot. It’s nice to meet you.” Was your simple reply, ignoring Declan’s snickering next to you.

“Yeah, I’ll be seeing you around.” With that he turned around and rejoined the group he was standing with before. Your eyes followed him, it seemed impossible for them not to and you knew he had noticed but you didn’t think you minded.

“I think Mason has seen something he likes.” Declan whispered into your ear and you didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling. You slapped him across the chest and told him to shut up. You weren’t going to tell him that you hoped he was right.

The next time you end up talking to Mason is an hour or so later when you’re standing in Ben’s kitchen making, well attempting to make yourself and your friend a drink you had seen on TikTok. “I hope that’s for me.” Even if you had only had one proper conversation with him before, you still recognized his voice so clearly. The flutter you felt in the pit of your stomach was something you were definitely blaming on the alcohol.

You bite your lower lip before turning your head to see him leaning against the counter, not too far away from you. He was wearing a pair of light wash denim jeans and a white shirt, it looked like he hadn’t put any effort in and yet he looked so good. “I only make them for my regulars,” you reply before taking a sip of your drink and when your nose scrunches up, Mason thinks you look adorable.

“How do I become a regular then?” Mason fires back right away. You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to surpress a smile but when you completely turn around to face Mason and see him already smiling at you with raised eyebrows and a glint in his eyes you can’t help but laugh. “Depends, what are you willing to do?” You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you liked it. You enjoyed the flirting and banter between you both.

“Honestly? just about anything.”

This time it was your turn to raise your eyebrow, causing him to let out a low laugh. “Alright golden boy, I might hold you on to that if you’re not careful.” Mason is beyond amused by you. He had just met you but liked how you weren’t treating him any different to the rest of your friends who you’ve known much longer. The conversation between you both was flowing, you both felt like you were catching up with an old friend. You couldn’t be blamed for forgetting about your friend entirely, instead focusing on making a drink for Mason. He was leaning forward on the counter, chin resting on his palm eyes following your every step around the room. You were grabbing whatever you saw, telling him that if he got poisoned it wouldn’t be your fault but his own for telling you to put whatever you saw in there.

“So, how come I’ve not seen you around much? Heard about you loads from Declan especially.”

“I do a bit of traveling here and there so I suppose I haven’t been around that much recently. I don’t normally go out much either to be honest, much rather stay in with a film.” It was true, you would always prefer a night in than a night out.

“That’s nice. I wish I could do a little bit more traveling but I suppose I can’t complain. I still get to go around Europe although it’s just for a night normally. Always look forward to going away after the season with the family.” You smile when you notice how his face lights up at the mention of his family and you were about to reply when your friend comes into the kitchen looking for her drink. You sent her an apologetic smile while you pointed at Mason with a shrug. “Sorry, I stole her from you,” he replied and watched with a fond expression as you elbowed him in his side. Your friend simply rolled her eyes and you tried to ignore hearing her say, “I’m going to owe Declan 50 quid by tomorrow aren’t I,” before leaving the room. You told Mason to remind you to curse Declan out later and he promised he would as he laughed.

After that interaction you and Mason decided to go back to the livingroom, now with more drinks in both of your hands. You were unsure of how long you two had been seperated from the group but when you returned only a few familiar faces were still there. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Declan and Ben’s whistles as you both returned, wishing your hands were free so you could flip them both off.

“These drinks are really fucking good y/n.” Ben complimented and when he asked what you had put in them you just shrugged, genuinely not having a clue. You were just glad he and the rest of your friends liked them.

“Heeey, I also helped!” Mason protested from across from you.

“Putting the straws in there doesn’t count.” You teased him. Making your friends laugh.

“You’re meant to be on my side.”

"Sorry, golden boy." He can’t help but grin at that, loving the nickname coming from you.

You excused yourself for a few minutes, feeling the need to go to the bathroom so you could freshen up a bit. You didn’t want to admit it but you wanted to impress Mason, there was just somethig about him and the way you kept finding his gaze every so often. You couldn’t ignore your bestfriends words, ‘he's checking you out so bad’ was what she had told you and it made your heart beat a little faster. You weren’t stupid or blind, you knew how attractive he was and the more you spent time with him, the more his personality matched how good he looked.

What you didn’t know was that downstairs, Declan was interrogating his bestfriend about you. He could see the way Mason was looking at you and vice versa. Declan didn’t mind it but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tease you both over it. “I’ve just met her bro, we literally just became friends if you can even call it that.” He found himself scratching the back of his neck and blushing when Declan would tell him to 'stop undressing you' with his eyes then but with a roll of his eyes he would just tell him to fuck off. Mason would like to think he’s more respectful than that.

“Just a girl I just met was what I told myself when I met my girl. We’ve been together for years now. Give it a chance, she definitely seems into you too.” Mason would just shrug it off, acting unamused but the fact that your friend was telling him that you seemed to like him too certainly meant something.

Mason wasn’t going to lie, he thought you were stunning, the second he walked into the house the first person he had noticed was you. He had heard Declan and even Ben speak about you and it was always only good things and he wasn’t going to lie and say he hadn’t checked your Instagram before. When he had seen you in the back of one of Declan’s stories months ago, he had clicked on your name and found himself scrolling through all your pictures and watching your old stories. He was happy your personality was watching your looks and he would love to get to know you even more and give it a chance but he had just met you and he didn’t want to seem desperate. He was unsure if you would ever be interested.

When you came back downstair the first eyes you caught were Mason’s and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he winked at you in an over exaggerating manner. You sat down next to him and when he leaned down to whisper in your ear that you looked beautiful you couldn’t help but blush. “You look cute when you blush too.”

“Do your friends know you’re so soppy?”

“Are you going to tell them?” You just shrug and the glint in your eyes makes Mason swoon before he mutters a “tease” under his breath, you pretend to not hear him.

As the night continued you ended up drowning a few more shots, trying to get Mason to drink but he had told you he had already had enough. You didn’t push him but told him that you would have another one on his behalf which made him laugh.

“Y’know, I reeeaaally wanted to be a footballer when I was little.” You were babbling utter nonsense but Mason was sitting and listening to every word you said with a smile on his face.

“Is that so? I could get you into the team. Blue would look so good on you.” He was humoring you.

“I’m much more into the red side of the city.” You pouted and when his eyes widened you started to giggle.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that and offer you another invite to the better and blue side of the city.”

“I’m not sure that would be very appropriate,” you slump your shoulders down in defeat. “But I’d do it because you’re hot.”

Mason looks at you with a grin, “is that so, hmm?”

You nod a few times before replying, “you’re very attractive. Your dimples don’t help either. But you already know that.” He finds himself blush a bit, he knows you’re drunk but the way you’re looking at him with those eyes and that pretty smile makes his heart speed up a little.

“Well, thank you. I think you’re very pretty.” A few strands of your hair have fallen over your face, the clip you had put it up with no longer holding the strands back because of all the dancing you had done. Without a warning or second thought, Mason reaches for the clip and carefully pulls it out of your hair so he can redo it for you in the best way he possibly could and you can’t help but giggle at the way his tongue was poking out of his mouth in concentration. He looked adorable. You checked your reflection on your phone, beaming as if he’d done wonders to your hair and it made him want to lean forward and press a kiss to your forhead. He couldn’t even blame the alcohol because he suddenly felt very sober.

When you looked around the room you noticed you were only left with Mason, Ben, Declan, Declan’s girlfried, your friend and another teammate of Mason’s who you didn’t really know the name of. The rest having already either passed out in different rooms or on their way home. You knew everyone were done for the night but you felt like you weren’t, not yet. “You wanna play? Just us two.” The glint in your eyes told Mason he was going to be in trouble but he didn’t question you or you game and just nodded.

You stood up and grabbed Mason’s hand and dragged him along with you to the kitchen. Declan and Ben noticed and you couldn’t ignore their whistles. Telling you both to ‘go on' and ‘be safe’, earning a laugh from you and a simple ‘fuck off’ from Mason.

Mason was standing opposite to you, leaning against a chair waiting for you to make a move as you sat down on the counter. You looked so breathtaking to him. “Never have I ever had drunk sex.” Mason raised his eyebrows at you but took a sip without protesting.

“That was easy don’t you think?” You just shrug innocently. But Mason knew there was nothing innocent about you.

“Was it good?”

Mason hummed. “It was.” You didn’t want to think about Mason with anyone so you decided to continue on with your game, trying to ignore how the smirk on his face was making you feel.

“Never have I ever taken a shot off of someone on top of a friends counter?” The way Mason exhaled didn’t go unnoticed by you and you were glad you were sitting down because the way he was looking at you would have made your knees buckle.

“Am I not meant to ask you a question?”

“My rules are different, golden boy.”

Mason nods, unable to hide his smile. “Okay, do you want to sit back then, just a bit?” You don’t think what you’ve asked had truly registered in your head but you do as he asked. “I would ask you to lay down but we can save that for another time.” You barely had time to think about his words, whispered right into your ear before he had started moving around the kitchen. When he returned he had the tequila in one hand and the lime and salt in his other. “You feeling alright?” You simply nod, thinking words might fail you.

You watched as he cut up the lime, humming along to the music that was still playing in the other room. You felt like you were the only two people in the house, forgetting about your friends in the other room. You felt like you were going to faint the second Mason tapped your chin just once, silently asking you to open it and suddenly you didn’t feel drunk at all. “Just let me know if you don’t feel comfortable at any moment.” You knew there wasn’t a chance for that but you still nodded, appreciating him saying it. The lime was placed in your mouth and you had to stop yourself from letting out a whimper as Mason pushed against you on the counter, lips ghosting over your collarbones. He softly asked you to lean back, lips moving against you and you thought he could ask you anything in that moment and you would do it. You lean back and just seconds later he sprinkles the salt on your collarbone.

All you could think about was his lips and how you wanted to feel them on your skin. You closed your eyes and you almost couldn’t help but bite down on the lime when you felt Mason’s hand moving up and down your thigh.

“Alright babe.”

The next thing you feel is his tongue on your collarbone, sliding over the salt trail he’s made for himself. You can’t help it when you move your hand up his arm and finally settle it on his shoulder. Feeling like you would go insane if you didn’t touch him, holding on to the counter wasn’t helping. You had done body shots before and people had done them on you but nobody had ever done it as painfully slow as Mason. You knew he was doing it on purpose, you knew he was trying to get a reaction from you and when you wrapped your legs around him he hummed against you. Happy to get the reaction he wanted. You were unable to stop your hand that was still resting on his shoulder from moving up to his locks, scratching his scull and the way he moaned against you sent a shockwave through your body. When he was done he moved up but not before pressing a light kiss against your throat.

You can hardly concentrate when Mason’s nose grazes your own as he takes the slice of lime from between your lips. His nose scrunches up and if you weren’t feeling so hot and like your heart was about to beat out of your chest you’re sure you would have smiled at how adorable he looked.

He threw his shot back straight after, not seeming bothered by the burning in his throat.

“Thank you for being my first.” You couldn’t help but lean back as you laughed at his remark. The smile on his face making your beating heart calm down a little bit.

"It was truly my pleasure.” It really was. Your legs were still feeling like jelly and he was still standing right up against you, maybe you lied when you said your beating heart had calmed down.

Before you could tell him that you should both probably get back to your friends and make sure they were all okay Ben barged into the kitchen. Stopping at the entrence before looking between you both with raised eyebrows and a large smile on his face.

“Y/n come on” Ben groans before continuing, “counter is off limits.” You knew he was teasing but that didn’t stop your face from heating up before hiding your face into Mason’s shoulder. Liking how his hand was moving up and down your back in a comforting manner.

“We’re all going to sleep now. You kids help yourselves,” Ben winked, “or each other, whatever you feel like.” Ben was laughing when he left the room.

“Ignore the twat.” Was all Mason said, not moving away from you as he let you rest against him for a few minutes.

“Let me get you in bed, so you can sleep this off, alright?” You had to fight the urge to ask him if he was going to join you so instead you lifted your head from his shoulder and asked where your bestfriend was.

“Probably asleep on the sofa by now. You’ll get the bed all to yourself.”

You look up at him with a pout on your face, “I don’t like sleeping by myself when I’m drunk.”

“I can stay with you until you fall asleep if it makes you feel better.”

“You should stay, I want you to stay. You’re nice...and handsome.” He just smiles at you.

After saying goodnight to Declan and Ben who were both just about to fall asleep Mason helped you up the stairs and to the room you were meant to stay in. You had managed to convince Ben to let you and your friend stay in his room, telling him that a gentleman would do it so he couldn’t say no. When you got to the room Mason helped you find a pair of Ben’s shorts and shirt for you to sleep in, when he handed the clothes to you he turned around and promised not to look. You had to bite your lip from telling him that you wouldn’t mind if he did. When you told him that you were done, Mason wasn’t expecting to turn around and find you standing infront of him in just your barely there panties and lace bra.

He was wondering if he hadn’t suffered enough tonight already.

“You’re making this very difficult for me, y/n.” His tone was so low and you could tell he was trying to not move his eyes up and down your body.

You couldn’t help but smile innocently at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, just going to sleep.” You went to sit down on the bed, not ignoring the way his brown eyes were boring into you. “All by myself, in this big bed. It’s a shame really.” You really didn’t think you were drunk anymore. You just wanted Mason to stay with you.

Mason had laid down on the bed next to you, trying his hardest to keep his eyes on your face.

“Really want me to stay?” You saw the way he was looking at you and it made you feel a bit braver so you moved your hand towards him, reaching for his hand so you could play with his fingers that were resting on his stomach. Avoiding his eyes, maybe you weren’t as brave as you thought you were just a few seconds ago.

Mason wanted to stay, he wanted to stay so bad and it was taking everything in him to stop himself from just getting under the covers and hold you as you slept. Especially with you laying next to him, barely anything covering you but he knew he couldn’t. He knew you weren’t sober and he didn’t know if you would have asked him to stay if it was another night and both of you were completely sober.

As much as he enjoyed your touch he gently removed his hand from your grasp, trying to ignore the way you frowned at the loss of contact. “Can’t tonight babe.”

“Why not?” You ask, not wanting to accept his rejection. Mason wanted to kiss your lips so bad when he noticed the pout forming on them. Kissing you had been something he thought about doing a lot during the night but he never dared to.

“You’ve had a lot more to drink than I have. I don’t want you to wake up and regret or worry that something has happened.” He was trying to be rational even if he was finding it difficult.

“I’m fine. Not even feeling drunk, look,” you stand up from the bed and Mason has to lean his head back against the headboard, biting his tongue because he wants to just shout at you to get back in bed because he couldn’t look at you like this. He felt so guilty so he kept his eyes on the ceiling. “Mason, you have to look at me so I can prove it to you!” He wanted to laugh because you had no idea what you were doing to him, or you just didn’t care. After letting out a deep breath he looked at you, trying to keep his eyes on your face but failing miserably as you tried to walk in a straight line.

“You saw that?” Mason wasn’t going to lie, he didn’t even see how you did, he was too focused on trying to calm the way his heart was beating but he was happy you managed to reach the bed without stumbling.

“I think you should get in bed so I can tuck you in, alright darling.”

You throw yourself on the bed, not wanting to accept defeat. Maybe it was a bad trait you had, but sober or not you always wanted to have your way.

“Just stay, I promise I’m fine. I won’t touch you and you don’t have to touch me.” Mason knew it would be impossible. “Sleeping on the sofa on top of Ben and Declan isn’t half as comfortable.” Mason was about to tell you he was going to sleep in the guest room but as he looked at you, you were already looking up at him with eyes that he was convinced he had already fallen for and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to stay strong too long.

And when you softly said, “only if you actually want to, never want to force you,” he took his shirt off and with a promise to himself to stay on his side of the bed he laid back down. Keeping his jeans on, not wanting you to wake up in the morning worried that something had happened. It was all going fine until you got up from your position a few minutes later so you could reach over him and take his shirt he had thrown on the ground. As Mason watches you put it on all he can do is curse, he was sure you were trying to kill him and the way he can’t take his eyes off you when you lay down again makes you smile.

“You just always get what you want, don’t you?”

“Your own fault. You told me you’d do anything to become a regular.” You giggle and he can’t help but laugh as he rememberes the conversation from much earlier, surprised you still did.

“Fair enough.” he whispered.

It’s the last words you both exchange before Mason thinks you’re asleep and he stays like that, not moving for awhile just trying to make sure you’re alright. When a few minutes pass he’s debating if he should stay where he is or get up and move to the room just down the hall but before he can decide you’re moving towards him and a second later your head is resting on his chest and your legs are tangled with his. “You’re thinking so hard, it’s keeping me up too. Just relax Mason.” So Mason does as you say, like he has been doing all night. He relaxes against the pillow, wraps his arm around you and accepts that he’s utterly fucked.

When you wake up the next morning you can only think about two things, how thankful you are that you’re not feeling even half as bad as you thought you would and also how nice it feels to wake up next to Mason. When you had arrived to Ben’s yesterday you had never expected to end up in this position but when you think about all the glances, the flirting and the game you had started you weren’t surprise. You didn’t regret any of it.

You decided to get up and go to the bathroom across the hall, being careful to not wake up Mason and to try and not make any sudden loud noises that would wake up anyone else. When you returned to the bedroom you laid back down in the same position, head on Mason’s chest, arm over his torso and legs tangling between his. “Morning.” His voice sent shivers down your spine, you hoped he wouldn’t notice but judging by the way you could feel his smile form against your forhead you would guess he did.

“Morning, sorry for waking you.” You whispered, not sure why when it’s just the two of you in the room. Before you could start to overthink if you had at any point overstepped the night before Mason spoke up again,

“I hope you’re as nice today as you were last night.”

“I’m always nice.” You say between a yawn. You both stay quite for a few moments as you still lay in his arms like it’s normal.

When your stomach starts grumbling you cringe a little. “I would love to take you out for breakfast if you want. Or we can go to my place, whatever you like.” You found the fact that he sounded so shy very cute.

“Footballer, charmer and cook? You got the whole package don’t you.”

He holds his hands up, “I try, I try.”

You sit up, not being able to ignore the way Mason is looking at you. The way you look in his shirt making his heart beat a little faster and his cheeks heat up a just a little because even if you have makeup smudged under your eyes and your hair is still messy, he thinks you’re so out of his league.

“I would love to have breakfast. If you don’t mind, I would like to see how your cooking skills are because as handsome as you look, I don’t feel like walking into any place like this. Unless we’re doing McDonald’s drive through.”

“You look beautiful and I’m not taking you to McDonald’s drive through on our first date so my house it is.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, the words first date making you smile and before you could tell him to stop trying to charm your pants off when you aren’t even wearing any, Declan barged into the room. Not even bothering to knock.

“HA! Oh fuck yes, I just won 50 quid!” You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he almost fell down the stairs while going back down.

Not long after that you both left Ben’s house, trying to not make any sounds as everyone except for Declan seemed to still be asleep. You sent a text to your bestfriend telling her you would be at Mason’s but to keep it quite. When you arrived to Mason’s place you got a quick tour of the house before he showed you to the bathroom and you had a quick shower. You changed into a freshly washed pair of Mason’s joggers and shirt, feeling a lot better not that you got cleaned up. It felt really good to be in his company and as you both stood in the kitchen and made breakfast you felt Mason’s eyes on you the entire time and when you looked up at him and he smiled at you all you wanted to do was kiss him. You both ended up in the livingroom with your plates and being a proper gentleman Mason handed you the remote so you could pick something to watch on Netflix. When you put on ‘Love is Blind’ he started laughing, telling you that it was an awful show, you couldn’t agree more but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it. You especially enjoyed how he would roast all of the people in it. When you had both finished eating you only paused the show so you could put the plates away, ignoring Mason telling you to let them be for now.

When you got back to the livingroom Mason had gotten comfortable, he was laying down over the whole sofa and at first you weren’t sure if you should sit down on the end he wasn’t taking up but when his arms opened up you went straight to him, laying down with your back pressed against his chest. His arms went around your waist and when you felt Mason squeeze his arms around you as he intertwined your legs you feel yourself smile before pressing a gentle kiss on his bicep. He hums lowly after you do that and it takes the worry that you had overstepped away instantly.

“You’re so warm,” Mason smiles at your words because you make him feel warm. “You smell good too.”

“You are even nicer when you’re not drunk. Who could have thought.” You tried to reach an arm across so you could slap him in the back but failed miserably because Mason was holding both your hands and when you try to break free so you can turn around he doesn’t let you.

“Let me turn around you big baby.” You whine and when you feel his lips against your neck before he laughs you feel like you might faint.

“Such a brat, always want you way.”

When you finally manage to turn around, the show playing in the background is completely forgotten, all you can focus on is Mason and how his brown eyes are looking right through you. Before you can speak and thank him for taking care of you the night before he’s leaning down towards your mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Is all he says before he moves the pieces of hair that have fallen over your face behid your ear and not even a second later he’s pressed his lips on yours. You feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest as you allow him to move his lips against your own until your brain registers what is happening and you parts your lips, allowing your tongues to intertwine with one another. Mason is the one who breaks the kiss a few moments later and when you don’t deny him he’s leaning back in, this time pressing kisses to your neck and you can’t help but moan at the feeling. Just like you had wanted to do in the kitchen the night before.

“Wanted to kiss you since the first second I saw you.” Was what he said between pressing kisses up your neck and back to your lips. You feel like you’re unable to speak so you settle for kissing him back, your lips moving in perfect sync before you find your words.

“Wanted to kiss you too, so bad. All night.”

“Got what you wanted again. See, such a brat.”

“Shut up.” When you lean in to kiss him again you can’t because you’re both smiling so hard.

You end up in Mason’s lap few minutes later, happy and content to be resting against him as he rants about how terrible the show you’re watching is with his hands running up and down your sides and back as you press gentle kisses against his neck. You feel good and happy. Happy to have made a new friend...or something like that.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #mason mount blurb #football imagine #footballer imagine #football fanfic #writing

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captains-simp · 3 years

Text

Carol Danvers ~ Infuriating

Carol Danvers X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 8,016

Includes: dom!Carol, captain kink, brat taming, choking, degrading, fingering, edging, nipple clamps, clit clamp, thigh riding, spanking enhanced with powers, vibrator enhanced with powers, strap-on gagging and choking, strap-on sex and overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You hadn't meant to fuck up Carol's mission. You weren't that petty. But the look on her face when you disobeyed her direct order and took the shot was priceless.

You and Carol had never gotten on. The first time you laid eyes on her you were infuriated by her actions. The second time you met only amplified that.

You had been under cover for a year when she came along and screwed up your mission. It had taken a long time to be trusted by those you 'worked with'.

You had set up a buy with a huge advanced (and crazy irresponsible) weapons smuggling ring that would lead to you obtaining more of their weapons for SHIELD until eventually, hopefully, you would figure out the secrets to their operation and be able to take down the business.

Just as the dealers arrived at the abandoned warehouse Carol came flying in to take on the armed men, oblivious to the mission that was happening, in all her heroic glory.

"We got the weapons, it was a success."

After writing out the report and having a long convosation with Fury (most of which involved you describing Carol in ways Steve would have been outraged by) you had at least expected an apology from the blonde. You could still remember how that went down.

"It was not a success!" You almost screamed at Carol. It infuriated you to no end that after half an hour of talking she still didn't see the bigger picture. She really thought she had done the right thing.

"Yes we got the weapons - something I could have done on my own - but that's such a small part of the rest of what they're making."

"You don't know how much there is." Carol said, her voice as calm as ever as she leant against Fury's desk with her arms crossed.

"That's the point." You said through gritted teeth, determined not to loose your cool infront of her and Fury. "My mission was to find out and put a stop to it."

"There are guys in holding. They'll talk."

You almost laughed at that. "If I could ask them my way they definitely would." You silently cursed SHIELD's moral codes that stopped you from torturing the answer out of them. They wouldn't talk any other way.

"They'll talk." Carol said stubbornly. "And anyway, you should be thanking me for cutting your mission short."

And that was it. From that moment on you couldn't look at the woman without wanting to slap her. That had been months ago.

Despite you never hiding your dislike for Carol she never seemed to mind you. In fact, she tried to be around any chance she could. Always looking for ways to get on your final nerve, everything she did she did for your reactions that you had grown worse at suppressing.

You took some of it out on her during training. It bothered her but thrilled you that you too were on the same level in combat. Apart from the times she was a sore looser and used her powers.

But you had made a strong effort to avoid training with her too. She taunted you during fighting. Although you were used to it it struck different when her body was pressed against yours to pin you to the floor.

Your most shameful day was when her actions had sent a jolt to your core that you couldn't deny.

Carol looked down at you with an insanely arrogant smirk as she straddled your waist. She was always like this in her moments of victory, always wanting to rub it in.

"Wow, you gave in quickly today." She quipped, not even trying to hide the obvious undertones. That didn't even make sense!

You weren't about to give in when she looked so god damn smug. You gripped her shirt with two hands and lifted your hips to flip her off but she caught on both too quickly and too late. She lurched forward into your grip but instantly pinned your hands above your head as her legs fell down next to yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you realised her face was inches from your own, it was only then that you become aware of the darker specs of brown in her eyes that highlighted the lighter shades. They were beau- okay. They were okay eyes. Yours were better.

The corner of her mouth raised in her familiar smirk that you always despised. But being that close brought light to how soft her lips looked. They were slightly parted and you wondered what kind of things she could do with that mouth. Professional things of course. Strictly professional and tactical thing. Not sinful things at all...

You wanted those thoughts banished from your head immediately. You wanted to leave.

All too hastily, you tried to raise your hips again, only then noticing how Carol's new position had her core right over yours. The contact and friction was undeniable, as was the slow throbbing that started.

A quiet moan slipped from your mouth that you desperetly coughed to cover up. You turned your head to the side, not wanting to see if Carol had noticed.

"Get off me, Carol." You huffed, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"What? You don't like me ontop of you?" She smirked.

God you definetly did.

As much as you tried to ignore that memory and replace it with the time you were first introduced you rarely succeeded. And even then it was like your hatred for her only encouraged how much you wanted to feel her deep insi-

"Are you even listening to me?!" Carol yelled at you with a glare. You never zoned out during meetings. Carol knew that. Fury knew that. Yet it was still very clear you just had.

"Are you done rambling?" You quipped, not having a moment to place the filter over your mouth as the thought spilled out.

Fury arched a brow at the question and Carol's jaw clenched in an annoyingly attractive way. You did not regret that one bit.

"If I hadn't taken the shot the hostages would have died."

"They almost did anyway."

"Almost."

There had been some sort of detonator with the man holding the hostages. Once dead, the storage he had loaded into his truck had been destroyed and nothing was salvageable. That was important cargo, but you always put a priority on lives. Taking the bad ones more than saving the good ones admittedly.

Once a vigilante always a vigilante.

"I don't think you understand how valuable that cargo was."

The meeting continued like that for a while. You would never admit it to anyone, especially as fucking up the mission wasn't intentional, but seeing how the tables had turned from the last time the three of you were in that office? It made you happier than it should have.

You guessed the two of you were even now. Maybe she would finally leave you alone. Your happiness faulted at that thought.

Finally, Fury told you and Carol to go and that it would be discussed again tomorrow. He was clearly tired. It had been a long day and it was late, everyone else was already asleep.

Even as you trudged down the hallway Carol continued to rant about your inability to follow orders. You would be the first to admit you weren't a team player. You still weren't used to it. But you always follow orders.

"I can follow orders, Captain. I just choose not to follow yours." You said calmly as approached the hallway towards your room.

You hated that Carol's room was next to yours. You had been there when Carol had talked to Tony about staying at the Avengers compound. You had seen her sly smirk as she pointed out on the compound map which room she wanted. Knowing full damn well it was next to yours.

How long did she plan to keep this up? You definetly didn't bug her about her screw up as long as she was you. Why couldn't she just hold the grudge in silence like you?

"You put aside personal matters when you go on a mission, y/n." She continue to scorn.

"Not personal, Captain. I just know when a decision and order is bullshit." Your room finally came into your line of sight. Just a few more meters.

"It wasn't bullshit. It was the right call. You just refuse to do what I tell you to." You rolled your eyes at her insistence, something that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde.

"The whole thing would have been fucked if I followed your orders. You should be thanking me." You taunted with a smile. But before you could fully bathe in your victory of getting under her skin, Carol gripped your neck tightly and slammed you into the wall.

You eyes widened as your back hit the wall painfully and you struggled to comprehend that Carol's hand was really around your neck...and you liked it.

"What? Got nothing to say to your Captain now?" She smirked. A familiar jolt travelled throughout your body and rested between your legs at her words.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Her hand, her words and the tone that accompanied them. You could always tell Carol was a top, but a dom?!

"If I could go back..." You started, your voice quiet with an edge of fear that made Carol preen. "And do the mission again...." Carol watched your face intently, awaiting your words of apology. "I still wouldn't follow your orders. Because I don't take orders from yo-" Carol stepped forward and forced one of her legs between yours.

You bit you lip to stop yourself moaning at the friction she was causing, the urge to grind against her leg was strong.

"Brat." She whispered with poison dripping from her voice. Her warm breath hit the small area of skin her hand wasn't covering and her hair tickled you chin.

"I have just the thing to deal with that. You wont be keeping up that facade for long."

You were about to object and assure her you would. That your stubbornness was just as strong as hers and you had been down this road before with others.

As she moved away from you she gripped your shirt in her closed fist and pulled you away from the wall with her. You hated that you instantly missed the contact of her thigh between yours. But her rough nature was doing it for you too. It had been so long since someone had been rough with you and you yearned to feel that again.

Carol had barely opened her door when she pushed you through the gap into her room. You were about to take in your surroundings and even pause to assess what was happening, but Carol's hands were on you again and all doubt slipped from your mind.

The next thing you knew your face was engulfed by soft pillows before you felt Carol's strong presence above you.

You could feel her knees on either side of your waist, pressed against you as though caging you beneath her. Her hands entwined with the back of your own and held them above your head under the pillows.

You went to move your hips up out of instinct from your training but Carol was too strong. She didn't even flinch from you efforts, clearly overpowering you in strength.

You reminded yourself you would not, under any circumstances, let Carol win.

You wouldn't apologise for the mission, wouldn't do what she said and you would not fully submit to her. It was something you truly believed, Carol knew this and it made everything you eventually did all the more worthit.

You could never imagine or anticipate the things you would let her do to you that night or the desperate way you would beg her to do them.

Her hair tickled your exposed neck as she leant down to whisper into your ear. "Anything you want to say to me before I begin? Perhaps an apology?" Carol questioned, knowing you would say no such thing but wanting to have more ammunition for later on.

You chuckled into the pillows before replying. "Go fuck yourself." It was muffled. But Carol understood.

She didn't reply verbally, instead she leant further against your body as her hands left yours and wandered down your arms.

Carol inhaled the scent around your neck as her hands reached your shoulders and decended to trace your collarbones that were visible from your shirt being lowered.

The blonde took her time memorizing every inch of your body, especially cupping your clothed breasts in her hands and ever so slightly grinding herself against you as she did so.

You reminded yourself to control your breathing as you felt those motions, not allowing yourself to be caught up in the firm grip of her hands against your breasts or the way she used your body to gain some friction to her core.

Her hands continued to massage your lower stomach, admiring the feel of your finally formed abs in a way she never could when you trained.

You kept your head amongst the pillows when her fingers danced around the waistband of your trousers. You didn't want Carol to see the anticipating look on your face at the touch of her fingers. They barely dipped half an inch beneath your trousers and panties but the contract gave you chills. You wanted to feel her against your bare skin more.

Carol retracted her fingers and instead wordlessly moved them to the centre of your trousers and unbuttoned them. You could hear her pull your zip down in the deafening silence of the room and you found yourself holding your breath in anticipation again.

She didn't hesitate once in her movements. With undeniable certainty, Carol slipped her hand under your trousers and panties to meet the space between your legs that welcomed her.

Carol sighed into the crook your neck as her fingers met your wetness between your slick lips. You bit your lip to stop any sounds escaping your mouth as the arrogant hero swiped a single finger slowly through your eager folds. She collected the arousal on her fingers before pressing it firmly to your clit.

Your hips rolled into her hand before you could stop them and the action caused a smug grin from Carol that although you couldn't see, you could feel against your skin. It was considerably worse and amplified your arousal as Carol could tell.

You hated feuling her ego. You hated that she had made you so wet your throbbing clit would slip around her fingers when she had barely touched you.

"Such a wet little brat. You're so ready for me and I've barely touched you." Carol husked as her finger continued to alter between running through your folds and rubbing your clit lightly.

It took every ounce of self control in your body not to squirm against her or make any noise. Your pride helped you keep those actions at bay.

Carol gripped your chin with her free hand and turned your head away from the pillow. You tried to avoid making eye contact with the blonde, knowing it would make your self control waver, but her hand continued to guide your line of sight to her enchanting gaze.

Her face was so close to yours you were completely caught off guard when Carol's finger pushed inside you and was engulfed by your lower lips with ease.

You bit your lip hard at the action, still staring into Carol's eyes and refusing to be the one to look away first. The intense eye contact did you no favours in holding off your verbal signs of arousal, especially when her single digit curled to brush your most pleasurable spot.

You gave a breathy moan when Carol held her finger against your g-spot for a long moment before withdrawing it, your eyes marginally widening as you adjusted to the pleasure, something Carol wouldn't have noticed if your faces weren't so close.

Her finger pushed back in at a slow pace but always stroked the back of your pussy in an angelic way.

You moaned louder when Carol returned with two fingers, the additional surface area made the experience all the more pleasurable and you feared how quickly you would cum.

Carol studied your facial expressions as she fingered you slowly, figuring out the spots that made you preen in pleasure the most and even the best angles to approach it.

It didn't take her long to understand the eb and flow of your pussy better than anyone ever had. With this powerful knowledge, Carol's pace suddenly increased in an overwhelming way you could barely adjust to.

She fucked you hard and fast with her fingers. Her wrist twisted in the most agile ways that caused her fingers to burry deep within you.

You moaned continuously as you stared into Carol's brown eyes you were beginning to remember better than your own.

The pleasure was immense and you knew your orgasm would hit you hard. Your breathing became rapid and your walls clenched down on Carol's fingers desperetly as your body prepared for your release.

Carol's fingers increased in pace as she gripped your chin harder, ensuring you look at her as her smirk finally returned.

Just as you were about to explode around Carol's fingers she retracted them from your throbbing pussy and brought them up to her lips as she grinned at you.

"Carol!" You protested in disbelief and annoyance.

"What? You didn't really think I would let you cum so soon did you? You haven't earned the right. Unless, of course, you'd like to make an apology." Carol said as her eyes bore deep into yours.

"Like hell I will." You groaned.

Carol clicked her tongue in disapproval before finally looking away from you. Her fingers returned to your waistband, only this time she pulled your trousers down swiftly, deliberately leaving your soaking panties clinging to you.

She then got off the bed and strolled confidently towards her walk in closet for a few seconds, returning with a few pieces of metal you weren't surprised to be seeing yet still gave you goosebumps. Carol's keen eyes seemed to notice this and she grinned knowingly to herself.

You shifted onto your side to get a clearer view of the devices attached to the long silver chain, once Carol reached your side she roughly forced your shoulder down so you were laying on your back.

"You're very pushy you know?" You quipped as Carol moved to straddle you hips and placed the metal beside you.

Her jaw clenched tightly in annoyance of your words but she didn't look at you, instead running her hands along your lower abdomen beneath your shirt. Seeing her frustration at you, especially the slight heavy exhale through her nose very few would notice, helped you control the urge to shiver under Carol's touch.

"I hope you can do other things with that mouth of yours besides bitching, for your own sake." Carol said lowly before gripping the end of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

"It can work wonders," you winked at her with a grin, "and it's nice to know you care, Captain, not just a big, mean, dom I see."

Carol's hand wrapped tightly around your throat just as you finished your sentence. She glared at you with clear rage in her eyes, a look that made putting up your hard front difficult. You had a strong urge to apologise, but you instead pushed it aside.

"If you think for one moment I'm going to go ease on you at any point you are sadly mistaken, brat. I'm not done with you until you're a begging, quivering, pathetic mess that's forgotten her own name and only knows her Captain. Even then I won't take any pity because of the shit you keep pulling. Whores dont deserve sympathy." Your breathing was shaky as the words dripped from her mouth laced with poison, threatening to be the end of you.

You were made acutely aware of her grip of your neck tightening and her ability to cut it off and never let you breathe again. You weren't sure at what point you had given over all control, but you didn't want it to stop.

Carol leaned in next to your ear and her scent enveloped your sences again. Her voice had dropped considerably when she next spoke her whispered words. "I can't wait to break you." She bit down on your ear harshly making you yelp. You couldn't deny the effect she was having on your body, she could see it too. Of course she could, she was playing you like a fiddle and there was nothing you could do about it. It was a thrilling realisation.

Carol pulled away from you slowly while you tried to return your breathing to it's normal pace. It wasn't until you heard Carol's deep chuckled that you realised that your eyes were clenched shut. You opened them to see the blonde looking very proud of herself and the result she had gotten.

You couldn't make another witty remark. Your brain couldn't form any kind of coherent thought and you wouldn't have trusted your mouth to deliver it. Besides, after what Carol had just said, you were afraid to speak out of term again.

The self-certain hero reached around your back to unclasp your bra as her other hand came to rest on your stomach, pressing down as she used it for support while she leant forward.

Carol's eyes eagerly took in every inch of your skin the moment it was exposed. She slowly pulled your bra away before flinging it across the room without taking her eyes off of your breasts.

The cold air hitting your skin made your nipples strain in a want for attention, although you and Carol both knew that wasn't the only reason. Carol hummed at the sight and leaned forward again to rub your buds between her thumb and fingers. Your head leant back into the pillows at the attention, sighing in bliss before you hissed sharply at the the spark of pain.

The blonde smiled in amusement as she continued to pinch your nipples harshly, you didn't protests out of stubbornness.

Carol then picked up the forgotten clamps next to you, trailing the chain slowly and deliberately over your sensitive skin. She attached the left clamp with a silent concentration that filled the room with tension. You hissed again as Carol adjusted the screw to the level she saw fit, which was scarily tight, before moving to the next with the same accuracy.

You closed your eyes and tried not to enjoy the throbbing pain on you nipples, but the growing slick between your legs was telling enough.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip hard to suppress a whimper, failing when Carol gave the chain a quick tug that made you give a strained whimper that sounded more pathetic than it would have if you hadn't tried to stop it.

Carol moved further down your body and spread your legs apart so she could sit between them. You could feel the chain extending down your stomach so you opened your eyes in confusion and instantly squirmed.

The two clamps had separate chains that looped around a small ring that lay on your stomach, twinkling mischeviously in the light. There was a third chain on the bottom of the ring that had a clamp at the end of it. A clamp that Carol was guiding dangerously close to your still covered core.

You had had experience with clamps before, but the thought of one pinching painfully at your throbbing clit was one you were unfamiliar and uncertain with.

Carol adjusted herself according to your newfound protests to kneeling on your legs, each knee digging into each of your thighs as a show of control. Your hands were still free and just as you were about to sit up Carol spoke with a fake pout.

"Aww, do you not think you can handle this? Are you too sensitive?" She mocked making you freeze. "I can always stop if you want me to. All you have to do is say the magic word." The blonde continued to taunt.

Your pride screamed at you to make some snarky remark as to protect your ego, knowing saying 'please' would lead to you spiralling down the rabbit hole you refused to step foot in, while your fear begged you to stay quiet. But there was also a small part of you that was eager to experience the pleasurable pain the clamp would surely deliver to your clit.

So instead, you kept your mouth shut and stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep an eye on Carol in your peripheral while appearing to ignore her.

She smirked, unbeknownst to you, at your pettiness and trailed a single finger against the wet patch on your panties. You struggled to continue looking at the ceiling and bucked your hips to try and meet Carol's hand.

Surprisingly, Carol let you and even pressed further against your panties, rubbing your clothed lips and relishing in the effect she had on you.

Carol teased you like that for a while, rubbing her finger against your soaking folds before circling your throbbing clit. Every so often she received a quiet whine from you that flooded you with embarrassment, hating how your body betrayed you and pleased Carol.

Finally, Carol pulled your ruined panties down and gleamed at the sight of your glistening folds, the view making her pussy clench around nothing and ache more than it had all night. An idea sprung to mind and she smirked at the thought.

She took the third clamp between her long fingers and pinched at your clit. You yelped and bucked your hips up again as Carol entrapped the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"So responsive." She muttered, more to herself than you, as she slowly twisted the screw. Her eyes returned to your pained face as she adjusted the tightness, studying you to see when you would reach the peak of your pain and your limit.

Your face scrunched up at the sharp pain that jolted throughout your body and made you whine lowly as you turned your head to the side and tried to squirm away.

Carol took another glance at your strained bud, biting her lip at the sight, before gripping your under arms and flipped you onto your back.

You were surprised and caught off guard but all questions flew from your mind when you were pushed against the mattress, the clamps pressing down and amplifying your pain.

A tear formed in your eye as your nipples burned hot in pain and your clit ached against its restraint. You whined and tried to squirm away, the inch you did move only made things worse as your dragged the clamps and the skin they pinched across the mattress. You gave a small cry at the pain but pushed your face into the pillows to muffle it, still trying with everything you had to not let Carol win.

You were so caught up in the unnatural pain you didn't even notice Carol stripping herself of her jeans and pants. But you did notice when you felt her wet pussy lips come into contact with the back of your thigh.

You brain short circuited when you felt how wet she was and that she was slowly rocking herself on your leg, using your body to get herself off.

"What are you-"

"Quiet." Carol cut you off by demanding as her hands locked yours to the top of the mattress again.

Her arousal was spreading across your thigh as she grinded against you.

You could feel your own breathing increase rapidly as you heard Carol gasp out occasionally. You wanted to see her. You wanted to see the look of pleasure on her face as she approached her high. What did she look like cuming? Did you feel good against her? Would she ever let you make her cum with your fingers or tongue. You prayed desperetly that you would someday get the chance.

"Fuck." Carol moaned breathlessly. Your own pussy clenched around nothing at the sound and you knew that while Carol was getting her wetness over your thigh, you were getting your own on her bed.

Carol's grip on your hands tightened as her movements became more erratic, chasing her release.

"Your Captain's gonna cum on your thigh, brat. Such a good fuck toy for me to use." A moan slipped past your lips at her words. You cursed yourself for giving the reaction Carol wanted, helping her frantic movements.

"Oh you like this, slut? You like being my little fuck toy for me to use whenever I want?"

You desperetly searched for friction on the bed covers as you whined, only to accidently apply more overwhelming pressure to all 3 clamps.

Carol's cunt dug harder into the back of your thigh as she came with a low moan, coating your skin with the evident of her orgasm.

Surprisingly, Carol didn't move from your thigh as she brought a soft hand around to the soaking space between your legs. She tugged momentarily on the clamp there and you whimpered in protest making her snicker.

She fingers teased your lower lips as she spoke. "You seemed to enjoy that just as much as I did." Carol smirked arrogantly as her fingers swiped at your arousal. "Answer me." She demanded, delivering a smack to your ass to punctuate her words.

You didn't. Instead your breathed into the pillows and tried not to think about how they smelled like Carol in an annoyingly soft way.

Carol spanked you again harshly, barely giving you a chance to adjust to the last.

"No." You lied shakily.

"Don't lie to me. You're only adding to your punishment, not that I mind. It's just drawing out the fun I'm having. Being a lying little slut gives me something else to fuck out of you too." Carol spanked you again as those words left her lips. She gripped your hips tightly and pulled you up so your ass was on full display to her.

When Carol's hand returned to your ass her hand was considerably warmer. You thought it was strange at first until she did it again, this time burning hot.

You moaned into the pillow as your realised Carol was using her powers. And you loved it. The hellish heat, Carol's brute strength and the merciless ways she delivered the blows with no recovery time hit your core everytime.

Your legs shook in pleasure and pain and your moans got notably louder. Sometimes when you tried to lean back into Carol's hand she tugged sharply at the ring connecting the chains on your clamps and you immediately returned to your position.

"Something to say?" Carol inquired after a particularly loud moan from you.

It dawned on you how close you were to submitting yourself to Carol. How close you were to telling her you loved every second of what she was doing and wanted her to fuck you.

So, to convince yourself more than the dominant blonde above you, you spoke up. "Need your powers to help you, Carol? Can't do it on your own?"

The pissed off blonde spanked you unbelievably hard after that. Your whole body lurched forward so suddenly you almost hit your head on the wall. You ass was stinging terribly and you felt a tear trickle down your cheek just after you cried out.

Carol got off the bed to once again disappear into the closet, giving you a moment to wipe the stray tear away so she could never know it was there.

When the powerful hero returned your eyes immediately fell to the obnoxious toy between her legs.

You bit your lip at the thought of her fucking you with it. Despite that, you were in denial that something that long and girthy would even fit. Although you knew Carol would make it fit. And with the blonde as pissed as she was...

"God you're practically drooling on my sheets." Your cheeks redened slightly at her words. "You want my cock, brat? You wanna be your Captain's cockslut?" God you did. But you refused to admit it, even if there was a moan caught in your throat.

"It isn't for your needy little pussy yet. It's to shut you up." Carol said as she straddled your chest, the strap inches away from your face.

"I'm not sucking your fucking strap, Carol." You tried to defy passively with an amused grin. You wanted to, so much. The thought of doing something like that was making your cunt pulse. But you might as well get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. You refused to please Carol with such a submissive act, even if you could feel the cracks in your bratty walls grow with each exchange of words and acts.

To your surprise, Carol didn't push the idea any more, simply nodding with a sly smirk, as though she knew something you didn't.

Instead, the taller woman grabbed a small device from the side of the bed you had failed to notice prior. She twirled it in her hand, as though familiarizing herself with it as she positioned herself between your legs again, a place she seemed to be becoming familiar with.

As you gazed at the toy Carol held you couldn't help but feel there was something different about it. Something you couldn't quite placed. It wasn't as slim as any vibrator you had ever seen, not as pointed either, but there was something else to it too.

You didn't voice these inquires and the blonde didn't make any suggestive comments. So you let the thoughts go.

With her free hand, Carol unscrewed the clamp that had continued to grip onto you with everything it had. The release of pressure was unimaginably relieving but you didn't get long to appreciate it.

Carol wordlessly turned the vibrator on to a high setting and teased it against your skin just above your clit. Your hips jerked instantly in an attempt to lower the vibrator to where you needed it, but Carol placed a firm hand between your hip bones and kept you in place.

You almost whined at that, trying hard to keep it at bay, but Carol soon placed it directly onto your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked again as the vibrations hit you hard. The lack of a tip stopped them being focused to one point and instead pulsed down to every milimeter of your clit.

Despite this newfound pleasure, you couldn't shake the unnerving silence from Carol that hung in the room. Just as her lack of teasing with the vibrator hung over you. It seemed as though she was purely focused on drawing out your own pleasure, abandoning any precious plans. You knew that wasn't really the case. But you didn't know what was. It was anxiety inducing not knowing what Carol was planning in that stubborn head of hers.

The silent blonde watched you as she rotated the vibrator, grinding it into you like a drill that buzzed furiously. The vibrations were sending strong shock waves to your core that were carried throughout the entirety of your body in bliss.

Just as you were about to mentally praise yourself for not making a noise the vibrations seemed to multiple at an alarming rate.

You moaned the loudest you had all night at the feeling of warmth covering your core, emitting off of the vibrator that centred in on your aching clit that was drenched in arousal. Your hips tried to buck violently in search for the source of the vibrations that pulsed almost angrily.

You finally braved a look down as you panted heavily amongst moans to see what could possibly cause such uncharted pleasure only to spot the blue, yellow and red swirls of light you had come to hate the sight of. In that moment you didn't hate them though, far from it. You were entranced by the light show from Carol.

Your legs attempted to close around Carol's hand and the vibrator, but she held them apart. She watched you with an arrogant smirk as you threw your head back and moaned continuously, just as she had planned.

"Oh? I thought you didn't like me using my powers on you. You seem to be enjoying it now, judging by your slutty moans that is." She taunted knowingly.

You're unable to muster the voice to say something, to defend your ego. All you can do try to stop yourself moaning Carol's name or title.

Your breathing became increasingly ragged as Carol's powers never let up, mercilessly pulsing waves of vibrations to your core repeatedly until your legs started to shake.

Your cunt clenched around nothing as your clit throbbed aggressively, desperate to reach it's release it craved so much.

Your moans became less coherent when your back arched and toes curled. Just as you were about to fall over that glorious edge all vibrations died down to barely noticeable sensation.

You whined lowly at the worst teasing you had ever felt. It was as though Carol held you over your much needed edge by the back of your shirt, keeping you in that vulnerable state until she decided to either pull you back or let you go.

"Do you need something?" Carol asked with a shit eating grin.

You brought your hands down to push the vibrator further against you but Carol pinned them together in the middle of your stomach with one hand. The strength of just that was able to stop you and it was frustrating to no end knowing that.

Her other hand stayed firmly attached to the vibrator that was quietly buzzing against you core. Carol occasionally messed around with the vibrations levels and the inclusion of her powers to take you by surprise, constantly keeping you on the edge of where you needed to be most.

"Jesus Christ!" Your frustration bubbled to the surface, unable to control your anger at Carol for the merciless teasing she was making you ensure.

"Nope, just your Captain." If you had control of your legs, you would have kneed her in that stupidly attractive face of hers.

The vibrations were becoming too much yet still too little. Every so often they would spike to the previous level before returning to something unfairly light. Your orgasm seemed to grow closer and closer each time before it was denied.

Once, Carol slipped the powered vibrator through your drenched folds with her powers lining it. It felt insane. Energy tickling your inner walls as the vibrations hit all the right areas. But, of course, it was quickly pulled away too.

Just like that, all defiance left your body and you surrendered to your needs.

"Carol, Please, I need to cum so bad!" You wailed in desperation, not caring how you sounded.

"Really?" Carol wondered aloud as she stared down at you.

"Yes! Carol..." You whined and returned her stare pleadingly.

"Who are you begging to make you cum?"

You gulped stiffly, knowing you were about to slip head first into the rabbit hole you had been avoiding so precisely all night.

"You...My Captain." Carol preened at the use of her title, something she had long awaited to hear you say and was sure you would need no encouragement to say it countless more times that night.

"Good girl." She husked and carelessly threw the vibrator to the side now she could use something better. "You want your Captain to fuck you? You wanna cum on my cock like a good little slut?"

Your nodded eagerly, knowing the only way was forward and that you would do anything for what Carol wanted to do to you.

"Please Captain, I want you so bad." You begged shameless.

"Well then you need to get my cock ready for your cunt." Carol stated matter-of-factly as she sat up straight and edged towards you.

The silicone toy between her legs was getting nearer to your face and your mouth watered at the sight, knowing you would need it to help accomdate the size.

You were so dazed by the sight of the toy bigger than you had ever seen that Carol had to tap your cheek to prompt you to open your mouth for her strap.

You did so instantly and without hesitation, quickly having the tip of the silicone toy at your mouth.

"Such an obidient baby now. You would do anything for my cock wouldn't you?" But Carol didn't give you a chance to respond. She thrusted her hips forward and in a flash she was forcing the strap into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat.

The blonde retreated the strap slightly only to ram it back in with more force and causing you to gag as it surpassed your limit without consideration.

You tried to sit up on your elbows to try and soften Carol's thrusts but she knelt down painfully on your arms as she gripped the headboard to aid her thrusting.

"I haven't even got you tired up and you're still so helpless." She mocked cruelly as she continued to make you gag and choke on the toy you struggled to accomdate so badly.

Eventually it became too much and you body fell limp in defeat, drool spilling from your mouth.

Carol didn't fail to notice this and chuckled darkly at the sight of you spread out on her bed with a dazed expression. She hadn't even fucked you yet.

As the dominant hero withdrew her strap she felt a rush to her core at the sight of your saliva glistening on her cock. You really had gotten it ready for yourself. Not that it would help you handle the size much.

Carol didn't waste and time lining the strap up with your entrance. Her hands were firmly placed on either of your thighs to ensure you stay spread open for her.

"Please." You whispered as you both watched the strap part your folds, paving a way for itself, before disappearing into your hungry pussy. You moaned loudly as the strap stretched your walls for it's entrance. You couldn't help but cling onto Carol's bare back and scratch the prominent muscle beneath your fingers as she sunk the strap in further.

The pain was present but it was overridden by the amazing pleasure provided by it. Your pussy clenched desperately around the intruder just before Carol bottomed out into you and you cried out at the unexpected motion, gripping onto the woman above you as much as you could.

She pulled the strap out slightly, only to slam it back in with force that made your whole body jerk and shudder. She pulled out more the next time, as though giving you a moment to prepare before thrusting the toy back into your still unprepared cunt.

You moaned over and over, struggling to form words and accomdate the brutal strap. You were overwhelmed with pleasure and pain as they took over every part of your brain, body and soul.

Her pace never faulted, never giving you a break. Every thrust was just as hard as the last, leaving you a moaning and shuddering mess beneath her.

"You feel how deep I am inside you, slut?" Carol grunted as she continued her onslaught of fucking tour dripping pussy.

"Yes Captain! Feels so good. You feel so good deep inside me." You moaned between breathless pants.

"God you're such a desperate slut for me. Dripping whore for me to use whenever I want." She punctuated each word with the snap of her hips.

The coil in your lower abdomen was starting to tighten and you craved your release.

"C-Captain." You stuttered as you started to shudder. "I'm gonna...cum."

"Beg me for it." Carol demanded and you complied without question.

"Please! Please Captain, I'm gonna cum so hard! Please let me! I'll be good for you." You begged as though Carol held your life in her hands.

"Why should I let you?"

"Because I- because I'm sorry!" You looked Carol in the eyes as you pleaded, letting you see her expression when she knew she had won. You both knew.

"How sorry?" Carol asked as her pace increased. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold off your orgasm for much longer.

"I'm so sorry. It'll never happen again. I promise." Carol watched you for a moment as she memorized every inch of you during her victory.

"Cum for your Captain." With a cry, you came incredibly hard on Carol's cock. Your whole body shuddered violently as Carol fucked you through your orgasm in the most ungentle way possible.

"I'm cuming! I'm cuming on your cock, Captain!" Never in your life did you think you would talk like this to someone, especially not Carol. Never since meeting the arrogant hero did you think you would submit to her in such a wanton way.

Carol fucked you through your orgasm and into another one without even considering giving you a break or chance to recover from the earth shattering one you had just experienced. Your vision was still spotted with blanks as you tried to speak this to her but you couldn't manage to form any coherent words, the only sounds resonating throughout the room were your desperate moans, slapping of Carol's thighs against your own and the wet sound of your pussy being fucked, this being amplified even more now that your cum was swirling around inside of you with the strap.

Carol unexpectedly reached out quicker than you could react to and locked her hand around your throat. Her pace was harder this time, as though reminding you she hadn't forgotten she was punishing you and that she was still mad at you. Clearly very mad.

The strap slammed against the back of your pussy and had you crying out in a failed attempt to adjust to it. Even that was muffled by Carol's grip on your airways.

You couldn't believe the force she was able to gather to drive herself into you with each thrust. Over and over. You began to loose your grip on the world around you.

You plummeted into another orgasm in no time, your overworked pussy spasming around the strap as it released more sticky liquid onto it that you were too blissed out to notice was dripping onto yours and Carol's thighs. She smacked your thigh hard to show she at least had acknowledged it.

You lost count of how many times you had cum. When your limbs went weak and finally dropped from Carol's back she withdrew. Something you were thankful for until she flipped you onto your front and dove back in. Her stamina and sex drive was unforgivable and unmatched. And soon, it was the only thing you knew.

You continued to moan and scream profanities into the pillow while Carol wrecked your world above you. She had your head forced into the pillows with one hand and showed no signs of letting up.

You mustered as much energy as you could to squirm away but your efforts were futile. Your pussy ached with the punishing pace and extreme overstimulation you were experiencing. But you had no way to escape it. All you could do was lay beneath your Captain, voice horse from screaming so loud countless times, and take everything she was giving.

When the final orgasm was ripped from your body it was as though it had taken every part of you with it. Your exhausted and overworked body finally abandoned you and left you to be enveloped by the darkness and the strong arms of Carol Danvers.

#brie larson #captain marvel #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel smut #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers smut #carol danvers x reader #marvel

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hirikka · 2 years

Text

spin tales like dandelion seeds

Written for @lexa-gui for the @geraskiersource Secret Santa exchange! I hope you enjoy!

Rating: T

Summary: Jaskier has managed to hold out under Nilfgaard’s questioning for weeks without revealing anything that might put Geralt in danger. Their new tactic—a truth potion—may have some unintended consequences when Geralt arrives to save the day.

Also on AO3

It has been… well, Jaskier’s not actually sure how long it’s been since he was last given food and water. Long enough that he drains half the mug before he registers the odd taste, and by then it is too late. He curses his own stupidity; he should have expected that they would try some sort of magic to get him to talk. All his efforts not to talk or, when silence failed, to tell nothing but lies, and it is all going to waste because he was careless. He wants to scream, to rage or cry, anything to let the hopeless frustration out, but he keeps quiet. He’s not sure exactly what the potion is meant to do, but if he pretends to be ignorant, they won’t know he’s trying to fight the effects.

Footsteps distract him from his thoughts, and the sound of the heavy bolt sliding in its lock is the only warning before the room floods with light. Jaskier winces at the brightness, hunching back into the corner of the room, and waits—

“Good evening, Julian.”

Jaskier glares up at the man—the mage—and doesn’t speak. The mage is followed by a guard, who leans against the wall, hand on his sword hilt.

“We’ll start simply,” the mage says, “to see how effective the potion was. What is your name?”

Jaskier almost scoffs. They know his name; they’ve taunted him with the fact that they know exactly who he is. “Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. Also known as Jaskier the bard.”

“Good. Why were you in Sodden?”

Well, that’s easy enough—they already know this as well; it’s how they found him, why they captured him even before the mage realized exactly who he was. “I was spying on you, obviously.”

“Who are you working for?”

“At the moment? The Redanian Secret Service.” The potion wants him to speak, so Jaskier takes advantage of that, hoping that he can stall them for long enough for the potion to wear off or for him to come up with a better plan. “I’m also under contract with Oxenfurt—although they may have rescinded that, since I haven’t gone back there in months and I certainly haven’t written—”

“Enough,” the mage snaps.

“You asked,” Jaskier mutters, peeved at being interrupted. He receives a fist to the gut for his troubles and oh, perhaps that was why he hadn’t been antagonizing them before. But if they become frustrated enough to beat him senseless, he won’t be able to tell them anything. Won’t have to risk saying something that might harm—

“Where is Geralt of Rivia?” The mage’s tone is deceptively casual; Jaskier knows exactly how desperate they are for this information. Has spent countless painful hours telling them again and again—“I don’t know,” Jaskier spits. “As I’ve told you, I haven’t seen Geralt in over a year. He sent me away.”

“Sent you away?” the mage prods.

“Yes. Blamed me for all the wrongs in his life. Said it would be a blessing for life to take me off his hands.”

“What wrongs would those be?”

Jaskier doesn’t want to think about what Geralt said on that mountain; the pain of those words hasn’t faded in the intervening months, but he can’t stop the words from spilling out. “Oh, all the times he was caught up in human affairs: the djinn—and his subsequent relationship and falling out with his sorceress—the child surprise…” Jaskier just barely suppresses a wince. He hadn’t meant to mention Ciri, hoping to keep the topic away from her for at least a little longer.

“The child surprise… He didn’t want her?”

“No,” Jaskier says. “He didn’t want to be bound to anyone or anything—which is, quite frankly, a load of horse shit considering his wish with Yennefer, and I honestly think he’d be a great deal happier—”

“Stop talking.” The mage takes a deep breath. “I can see why the witcher sent you away.”

“That’s not fair,” Jaskier objects. “You’re the one who asked.”

“Stop talking before I start removing fingers.”

Jaskier grits his teeth, trying not to flinch too obviously. They’d broken his fingers several weeks ago, and he’s fairly sure they’ve started to heal wrong. He may never be able to play again even if he survives this, but there’s still hope. He doesn’t know if he can survive without that.

“Our sources say that the witcher has claimed his child surprise. Where would he take her?”

“I don’t know!” Jaskier says, for what feels like the millionth time. “I didn’t think there was a force on the Continent strong enough to make Geralt claim that child, so how should I know where he would have taken her?”

“Let’s rephrase then, what places does he consider safe?”

“Geralt doesn’t consider anywhere safe,” Jaskier says. “He’s a witcher. Most people hate him, and he’s convinced even the people who don’t hate him should… There were times where I thought he felt safe when we were together, but perhaps I was just imagining that. Wishful thinking, I suppose.”

“What places did he visit most often?”

“Well, larger towns tend to attract more monsters, and there were always contracts to be found along the Yaruga—drowners and such. He didn’t have particular places he sought out, exactly. He went wherever there were contracts to be found.”

“There’s no place he went to every year?”

Jaskier shrugs—as much as he can with the way his arms are bound. “If there was, he never told me about it—not so much as a name. Probably didn’t want to risk having me show up uninvited to ruin more of his life.” He’d never allowed himself to examine that particular thought before, and it hurts more than he’d expected. Geralt had always kept him at arm's length. Jaskier had thought for years it was just caution—a natural response to years of abuse and hatred—but maybe it had really been Jaskier that was the problem.

The mage and guard leave while Jaskier is still lost in his thoughts. Perhaps they’ve finally realized that they won’t be able to pry any information from Jaskier. He hopes so; he’s lost track of how long he’s been here, but he’s so tired. He knows the chance of getting out of this alive is vanishingly slim and, while death has never before seemed a comfort, at least it would be a release from the pain.

Geralt waits until the mage portals away before stealing into the keep. The mage is only there for a few hours a day, from the information Geralt has gathered—too many places to be and not enough magic users with the power left to have one stationed in all of the army’s outposts. The battalion of guards falls easily beneath his sword. He keeps his mind on the present and doesn’t let himself think about why he is here—who he is here for.

There is a moment when he stumbles, the lute smashed on the ground in a corner sending a pang of regret and sorrow through him. It is enough time for one of the soldiers to slash across his arm, but he hardly notices the pain as he tears through the few remaining soldiers with more raw fury than skill.

Once the last body falls, Geralt turns and heads down into the dungeons. The smell of blood and rot reach him first as he pulls open the door into the dank room at the bottom of the keep. He keeps his breathing shallow as he paces down the corridor. The first few cells are empty, doors standing open and waiting. The fifth and final door is closed, with a figure slumped in the corner. He doesn’t move at the sound of footsteps, but Geralt can hear his heartbeat, racing with fear in anticipation of his captors’ arrival. The wave of relief is stronger than Geralt expected, and he has to force his hands not to shake as he pulls out the key he’d taken from a guard and unlocks the door.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says.

The slumped figure jolts to his feet, blue eyes wide and wild. “Geralt? What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you,” Geralt says. “Can you walk?”

“Can I walk?” Jaskier repeats. He looks slightly dazed, something off about his expression that Geralt can’t quite identify. “I don’t know.” He takes several wobbling steps forward, wincing in pain. Broken ribs, Geralt guesses. Jaskier sways on his feet, and Geralt steps into the cell to steady him.

“Come on,” Geralt says.

“Is this a trick?” Jaskier asks, squinting at him. “Because honestly, I don’t know what you are hoping to achieve if it is.”

“Not a trick. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Why?” Jaskier frowns. “I’m hardly worth the risk—I know you’re too noble for your own good, sometimes, but what if this had been a trap?”

“I… was worried. Wanted to make sure you were safe. When I found out you had been captured, I came as quickly as I could.”

Jaskier blinks at him for a long moment. “Hm, well. I suppose if they were able to create a glamor or hire a doppler or whatever, they would have probably tried that sooner.” He makes a face as they pass the first of the fallen soldiers. “Also they probably wouldn’t have killed all these people.”

“Hm,” Geralt agrees. He focuses on making sure Jaskier keeps his balance while trying to catalog the bard’s injuries.

“You shouldn’t have taken this kind of risk,” Jaskier says conversationally. “You must have known that I wouldn’t have been able to tell them anything that would actually help them find you… Although I suppose if you are going around attacking their keeps, they won’t have to look very hard.” He waves a hand as he talks and then lets out a whimper as the movement jostles what looks like several broken fingers.

“Careful,” Geralt growls.

“Really though,” Jaskier continues, undeterred. “You never actually told me much about your life; I’m not sure what you thought I would be able to tell them.”

Geralt frowns at him. He can’t see Jaskier’s expression and he wants to get them farther from the keep before calling for Yen so he can’t stop, but: “I wasn’t worried you would tell them something. I was worried about you, that you’d be hurt, or worse.”

Jaskier’s steps falter for a moment. “Oh, well. That’s… What now?”

“Hm?”

“I can’t exactly—” Jaskier waves a hand. “Go. If Nilfgaard thinks they can use me to get to you. They just wanted information this time. They believed that you wouldn’t risk coming for me, but now… they’ll be even more determined to capture me. And next time it will be a trap.”

“I thought— I’d planned to bring you back with me. Somewhere safe.” Geralt watches Jaskier for a moment, trying to gauge his reaction. “I know you probably want nothing to do with me, especially now…”

“I always want to be with you,” Jaskier says. “A few broken bones isn’t enough to change that. I just thought you’d want to be rid of me.”

Geralt can hardly believe what he’s hearing. Jaskier was tortured because of him—could have died because of Geralt—and all that on top of the pain Geralt knows he caused. “Then you’ll come? Let me keep you safe.”

“Of course,” Jaskier agrees. “I love you, Geralt. I’d go anywhere with you.”

Before Geralt has even a moment to process that, a portal swirls open in front of them, and Yen’s voice from the xenovox tells them to hurry.

Yennefer rests her chin on her hand, looking far less concerned than Geralt feels the situation deserves. “One more time,” she drawls. “Why do you think Nilfgaard would have enchanted Jaskier to think he loved you?”

“I already said—I’m not sure it was meant to be me that he fell in love with.”

“Right. They wanted him to fall in love with one of his captors so he could, what? Reveal your secrets? Surely you have more faith in your bard than that.”

She’s not wrong, Geralt knows; even in love, he can’t imagine Jaskier giving up secrets that would put Geralt in danger. “Maybe it was meant to make him fall in love with me. Jaskier thought I could have been a doppler; maybe they were planning to bring in someone to impersonate me. And if he thought he was in love with me…”

“What? He would tell you where you would hide? Honestly, Geralt, having someone impersonate you wouldn’t actually have been useful to them. And even if they did think they could get something out of that ruse, why would he need to be in love with you?”

“I don’t know,” Geralt grits out. “Who knows—they could have been plotting anything.”

“Hm.” Yennefer raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“Does it matter why?” Geralt asks. “We just need to find a way to fix it.”

“Alright,” Yennefer sighs. She closes her book and places it on the table. “Let’s go see if there is actually something wrong with your bard.”

“Wait here,” Yennefer orders. “The hovering is distracting.”

Geralt pouts but doesn’t argue. Yennefer magnanimously does not tease him for the expression; there will be plenty of time to tease once she can assure him that Jaskier isn’t under the influence of any lingering magic.

“Ah, hello, Yennefer. Thank you for healing me.”

Yennefer isn’t quite sure what to do with this sincere version of Jaskier. “How are you feeling?”

“Still a little sore, but much better,” Jaskier says. “Also quite afraid that I’ve ruined things with Geralt, possibly irrevocably—which is somewhat ironic considering what he said the last time we parted, but he saved me so he can’t hate me completely—unless he does now. Oh, wouldn’t that be just my luck?”

“Jaskier,” Yennefer interrupts. “Calm down.”

Jaskier blinks at her, looking a little dazed, but doesn’t say anything else. She still thinks Geralt was wrong about the curse, but that wasn’t normal, even for the normally chatty bard. “Take deep breaths,” Yennefer instructs as she crosses the room, perching on the corner of the bed. She reaches out, scanning first his injuries—all healing well, thank Melitele; she had been worried that her magic, depleted as it was, wouldn’t be enough to mend him. Once she’s satisfied with that, she probes with her magic, looking for any signs of something amiss. There is an enchantment, faint and fading, but still strong enough to have influence. She tugs at the spell, unraveling it to see exactly what it was meant to do, and lets out a startled laugh when she realizes what it is. She draws the spell out, releasing Jaskier from its hold as Geralt slams the door open.

“Why, uh, why are you laughing?” Jaskier asks. “Am I dying?”

Geralt makes a wounded noise, and honestly, Yennefer is so tired of the dramatics.

“You aren’t dying,” Yennefer says to Jaskier. She stands up from the bed. “You’re healing well. You’ll be tired, so I expect you to take it easy.” She gives him a wicked grin. “No strenuous activity for the next few days.”

“Strenuous?” Jaskier repeats, sounding somewhat strangled.

“The spell is gone as well,” Yennefer adds, keeping her tone casual.

“He was enchanted,” Geralt says, voice flat.

“Yes,” Yennefer agrees. “They gave him a truth spell.”

“A truth spell?” Geralt asks, sounding stunned. His attention is fixed on Jaskier.

“I swear I didn’t tell them anything of import,” Jaskier says, clearly misinterpreting Geralt’s reaction. “I promise, Geralt, I didn’t.”

The pain in Jaskier’s voice snaps Geralt out of his shock, and he sinks onto the bed, sitting at Jaskier’s side and staring at the bard in wonder. “You love me.”

Jaskier flushes, ducking his head. “Ah, right. I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You meant it,” Geralt says.

“Well, yes.” Jaskier’s voice is steady but his hands shake. “It doesn’t have to change anything—”

He’s cut off when Geralt takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. “What if I want it to change things?”

Jaskier’s blush deepens. “Well, that, um, that can be arranged.”

Yennefer suppresses a snort of amusement, deciding that she’s seen more than enough of this. “Remember, Jaskier, nothing strenuous.” She winks at him before leaving the room, the door cutting off his outraged spluttering.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #witcher fic #geraskierss #geralt #jaskier #gift fic #my writing

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quindolyn · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Sub! James Potter? Where he did something bad, and reader had to punish him, with some amazing aftercare afterwards?

Permission || James Potter

Word Count: 3016

A/N: This was also requested by @triciam06 and I hope you all enjoy it! I’m the biggest sucker for sub!James. His punishment isn’t anything too severe because I a) don’t think that James would ever break a rule more severe than the one he breaks in this piece and that’s because he’s the most obedient sub and b) I love him but he couldn’t take a hardcore punishment.

Warnings: Mommy kink, sub!James, overstim, light punishment, aftercare

Masterlist

It was funny really, how easily you could get him off on your hand alone. Desperate to be your good boy James was trying his very best not to buck up into your hand as you lazily flicked your wrist up and down his shaft, your thumb occasionally brushing over the blushing tip of his weeping cock.

You dragged your eyes over his perspiring form, his strong hands balled into fists, clenching the soft material of the sheets in between his fingers. He had his back arched against the bed, messy black hair fanning out around his face which was flushed, painting his cheeks a pretty rosy pink. With tears swimming in his eyes, which were there from the tremendous effort he was putting into delaying his orgasm until you said he could cum, your Jamsie was the picture of obedience.

Continuing your hand’s movements on his throbbing cock, a lopsided smirk caressed your face as you moved the hand not on his member to grope at your breast, it only seemed fair that you got to touch yourself as you watched this.

“M-Mommy,” He stuttered out, blinking up at you owlishly, his glasses were still perched atop his nose, but now resting crooked on his face.

Your hand abandoned your breast, instead moving to correct his glasses, “On or off baby?” You cooed gently, gazing down at him adoringly, he was being such a good boy for you, not cumming until he was told he could. He always followed instruction so well.

“Off please,” James whimpered, turning his face so that you could more easily access his eyewear.

“Such good manners,” You praised, folding the legs of the glasses in towards the lenses before you set them down on the nightstand table. In your efforts to discard his glasses you had to lean a bit meaning that James’ painfully hard prick slipped from the palm of your hand, slapping against the hard muscles of his lower abdomen.

You grinned wickedly at the small whimper that left his mouth, watching as he flexed his fingers you knew he was just desperate to get one of his hands on his cock, he was so close to cumming and the both of you knew it.

“Aww baby,” You crooned, eyes never leaving his member, “It looks so pretty right there, lying on your tummy,” You extended a single finger, running it up the length of his prick, following a particularly pronounced vein, “Thinking that I might just let it sit there, be a shame to mess up something so pretty.”

“Mommy,” James sniffled, “Mommy please, I need your hand, I need to cum pretty please, I’ve been your good boy, I deserve to cum.”

You let out a dry chuckle, expertly recapturing his cock in your hand you resumed your hand’s motions on his length. Your movements were considerably quicker than they had been, as you tugged on his prick you tugged him closer and closer to his orgasm until the tears pooling in his eyes leaked out of the corners. Leaving twin trails down his temples as his pleading eyes stared into yours.

“You think you deserve to cum baby? You think you deserve for Mommy to let you make a mess all over her hand?”

“Uh huh,” He whined, squeezing his eyes closed as he nodded his head vigorously, James pulled the soft cushion of his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting harshly before releasing it in all of its swollen glory.

“I don’t know pretty boy, I think you can wait a bit longer, yeah? Be mommy’s good boy and wait till she tells you you’ve deserved it.” You countered.

Not satisfied with your answer James protested, “But Mommy-” But you quickly shut him up with a quick slap to the inside of his thigh. Not hard enough to actually hurt, just leave a pleasant stinging sensation as you rubbed your hand over the offending skin.

“Be quiet Jamie, you’ll cum when mommy says you can cum and not a fucking moment sooner,” A scowl formed on your face, evidence that you were not pleased with his contesting your ruling. Wanting to punish him for his not listening to you, you pulled even more harshly at his cock, wanting to get him so close to orgasm that he was but a subby puddle, ready to do your bidding.

“Look at you,” You cooed, your voice now carrying slight mocking as traced a delicate finger along the planes of his toned abs, following the dips and ridges, watching as he shuddered under your touch. “So pretty like this, all splayed out for me, you look so beautiful baby, so beautiful.”

“Thank you Mommy,” James groaned, “Mommy’s pretty too.”

“Good boy,” You smiled, leaning over to smear a gentle kiss along his brow, never once releasing his cock from the confines of your hand. “But if you think flattery’s gonna make Mommy let you cum, you’ve got another thing coming.”

You took a sick delight in watching him writhe and whimper beneath you as you torturously denied him his orgasm until it was too much for him to take.

His movements had him flailing around the bed as he tried so hard to listen to you, but he could feel the fire burning in his belly and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore, no matter how desperately wanted to.

“Mommy I’m gonna cum,” He screamed, bucking his hips into your hand, “I need to cum Mommy please, pretty please.”

“No,” You snipped, “Mommy’s already let you cum tonight baby, twice, no cumming until she says you can, you know the rules.” And you were right, you’d already allowed him to cum down your throat twice as you took him all the way to his pubic bone.

Your words didn’t seem to completely register with him as he continued to buck into your hand before eventually releasing his load, “Mommy I’m so sorry,” He screamed as he came on your hand, coating it in his sticky release.

“I’m cumming, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He cried as his orgasm washed over him, completely overwhelming him in pleasure until he could barely even mumble out apologies.

Watching as he trembled beneath you you continued jacking him off, using his cum as a lubricant, making it easier to move your hand along his shaft.

“Baby,” You crooned, wiping the tears off of his face with the pads of your fingers.

“S’too much Mommy, too much.” His whines were positively pathetic as he pushed his hips into the mattress, trying to put distance between his cock and your hand.

A frown found its way to your lips, “But you came without permission love, can’t just let that go unpunished, what kinda Mommy would I be if I did?”

“I know,” He whined, shamelessly squirming, trying to get out of your hold, “I’m sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

You understood that, you had edged him for the past hour or so and you weren’t sure if even you could’ve lasted that long but he didn’t get to cum without permission, he knew that.

“Don’t wanna hear your excuses Jamie,” You were increasingly aware of how his oversensitive prick twitched in your hand, “I know it was hard baby but you know you’re not allowed to cum without permission don’t you?”

“Yes Mommy, I know.”

“You gotta take your punishment for me then baby,” You explained, moving your hand to tweak one of his nipples before pulling the sensitive bud between your fingers, where you then pinched them.

“P-punishment?” He stuttered out, his wide eyes, drowned in guilt, staring back up at yours.

“Yes baby, punishment, you broke one of my rules didn’t you?” If only the boy lying in front of you knew just how much power he had over you. He wasn’t even trying, but just watching him get off was enough to flood your panties.

“I’m sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to be a bad boy,” He sobbed and the frankly pathetic tone of his voice as he apologized to you for the umpteenth time in the last couple of minutes was almost enough to make you relent, but not quite.

“I know my love, and you weren’t a bad boy, just a naughty boy,” What you did next counteracted the sweetness of your words as you poked your tongue out just enough to kitten lick the sensitive tip of his cock, taking immense delight as more cum leaked out of his prick. The taste of his seed was the usual perfect salty sweet blend it always was but something about that cum being, for lack of a better word, forbidden, made it taste all that much better.

“J-just naughty? Not bad?” He pleaded with both his eyes and his words, needing the praise he was so used to.

“Just naughty.” You confirmed, releasing his prick for a moment before lightly slapping your open palm against it, reveling in the way his entire body jumped at the sensation. “Now Jamsie, you gonna take your punishment like a good boy, yeah?”

“Yes,” He forced out through gritted teeth.

“Yes who?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“That’s better,” You praised, continuing to overstimulate him, relishing the noises he made until whimpers turned into him bawling as fat teardrops raced down his face and down his neck.

“M’so sorry mommy, m’so sorry,” James cried shamelessly trying his best not to move.

“You were so eager to cum baby, just giving you what you wanted,” You condescended running your fingers through his locks once again to get a solid grip on them before yanking pulling a strangled moan from his lips. “Is this not what you wanted baby? Thought this was what you wanted when you came without my permission? Just giving you what you clearly want, now are you gonna be good? You said you would.”

In response you recieved a gasp as he released onto your hand again, somehow even more than last time. Feeling both selfish and wicked you bent forward, trading your earlier kitten licks for engulfing the entirety of the head of his cock, slurping on it as one would a lollipop.

The moan that ripped it’s way out of his throat was pornographic as his sensitive cock was overstimulated by the feeling of your warm, velvety mouth wrapped around it. As you allowed his cock to rest against the flat of your tongue you noticed that his cries for you to stop, that he was sorry had quieted to muffled whimpers explained by the hand clamped over his mouth.

The sight sent a surge of pride through you, here Jamie was being as obedient for you as ever because he knew what he had done was not okay. That he had broken Mommy’s rules, it was why he was so rarely punished.

Inhaling deeply through your nose you took him all the way down your throat so that the tip of his dick rested deep inside of your throat. You could feel him twitch inside of your throat and if it wasn’t the most amazing thing to feel that you didn’t know what was. Smiling around his length you decided that if his silence was anything to go by James had learned his lesson. Feeling merciful for the first time that night you swallowed around his cock, feeling him shoot what would be his last load of cum for the night down your throat.

Once he was done you eased him from your mouth, careful to keep your teeth away from his softening length.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson baby?” You asked the ruined boy beneath you as you rose to your full height before bending at the waist to smear a kiss along his cupid’s bow.

Too fucked out to use his words James gave you a small nod, his eyes lids resting closed with his lips parted, taking deep inhales of breath as he recovered from his orgasms.

“Can you use your words for me?” You lilted brushing away the hair that couldn’t seem to stay out of his face.

After a deep inhale he did, “Yes Mommy, I’ve learned my lesson,” His voice was hoarse, he sounded parched and he probably was.

Easing him up so that he was leaning up against the headboard you plucked his glasses from the bedside table, beginning to ease them onto his face before you noticed how sweaty he was. Letting the glasses rest in your lap you pulled your wand from the drawer of the nightstand using it to summon a glass of water and a damp washcloth from the bathroom.

Beginning with the cloth you wiped the sweat from his brow before tracing the damp fabric down the sides of his face, calming the heated skin as praise after praise tumbled from your lips.

“Such a good boy for me Jamie, took your punishment so well my love.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” He was still breathless.

“Don’t need to thank me anymore my love, s’time for Mommy to clean you up, yeah? Gonna help you get cleaned up for bed.”

“M’not tired,” He insisted, though if his closing eyes were any indication, he most definitely was.

Suppressing a chuckle you laid the washcloth on his thigh to soothe the warm flesh there as you brought the perspiring glass up to his lips, easing them apart to allow the cool, sweet liquid to drizzle down his throat.

“There you go darling,” You eased the glass apart from his lips to set it down and replaced it with the cloth that you continued to trace his skin with, brushing it up and down his chest and stomach, careful to avoid his sensitive nipples.

“Glasses please,” He mumbled, his hand groping at your leg, “Wanna be able to see you.”

“Of course,” You smiled, balancing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose allowing the world to come back into focus for him as he smiled at you. “Can you take another sip of water for me, pretty boy?” You asked, slipping the glass into his hands, allowing them to bring it to his lips.

He did as you asked before holding the glass in between his legs, “Did I do a good job for you, Mommy?” He looked at you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry I came without permission I just-”

“I know baby,” You cut him off gently, “You didn’t do it on purpose but Mommy still had to punish you, you understand right darling?”

He gave you a bashful nod.

“Good my love, it doesn’t make you any less of my good boy,” You gently reached for his member, handling it with the utmost care as you brought the wet cloth to it, knowing that it wouldn’t be a pleasurable experience for him you were efficient in cleaning the cum off.

James hissed at the sensation, once again squirming to escape your grasp. “Gotta clean you up baby, be quick I promise,” And you were, not wanting to prolong his discomfort any further.

As James took yet another sip from the glass, one he very much needed, you pushed yourself up from the bed, traipsing over to the dresser where you removed a pair of sweatpants for him and a pair of panties to wear with one of his t-shirts for you.

You offered to help him put on his pants but James insisted that he was fine, standing up to slip the pants over his feet before pulling the waistband up where your fingers found the cord, tying it in a loose bow.

James’ body was malleable as the two of you settled into bed, with you curled into his chest you faced each other, drawing a single finger up and down his sternum.

“I really am proud of you baby,” You whispered, feeling as though if you spoke too loudly then it would disrupt the peace that had settled over the room.

“Just wanted to make you happy (Y/N),” He admitted quietly, his lips pressed into your scalp muffling his words slightly.

Throwing an arm around his waist you pulled your body even closer to his allowing you to rest your head up against his chest so that you could listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart inside of his rib cage.

The two of you laid there for so long, just absorbing the presence of the other person that you thought he must’ve fallen asleep for it was often difficult for the dark haired boy to stay silent for all that long. But as you pulled away slightly so that you could slip his glasses back off of his face so that he wouldn’t break them in his sleep you found hazel eyes staring back down at you.

“You’re not asleep,” Though your words were accusatory, your tone was not, more observational than anything.

“Neither are you,” Your boyfriend countered.

You giggled gently, “Touche.”

It was so easy to get lost in James’ eyes, that maybe you held eye contact for a few seconds, maybe for a few minutes, maybe for half an hour. But it broke as you let out a yawn, a give away to your state of exhaustion.

“M’tired too,” James said, smiling at how beautiful you looked, even mid yawn.

“We should go to bed,” You reasoned, though your eyes locked back onto his.

“Uh huh, probably,” He agreed, he too not breaking eye contact.

And though you were both exhausted you laid there, in each other’s arms, gazing into each other’s eyes, both of you refusing to be the one to shatter the intimacy of the eye contact and close your eyes first.

That was until James eyelids became too heavy with sleep for him to fight and they gently fluttered closed. Not a minute later he started emitting, soft snores and you knew he was asleep.

Craning your neck you pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose whispering to him softly, “I won.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete @reallyraunchyrory

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #sub!james potter #james potter fanfiction #james potter smut #James Potter aftercare

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bastart13 · 3 years

Photo

Unfortunately I couldn’t help but think through a few ironic implications of Portia’s Reversed ending

Fic below the cut

[1.5k words, tw character dying, set in Portia’s Reversed ending so spoilers]

A decade or so after their story ended

Isha let their head fall back with a rattling, haggard sigh. They closed their eyes, letting the gentle rocking of the docked ship lull their heart into a calm pace. It was almost enough for them to forget their troubles if it wasn’t for the sharp aches in their hip or the sheer effort it took to take a breath.

They’d never been good at listening to their own discomfort. They’d lived with discomfort all the life they remembered, whether it be from minor inconveniences with their arm, or the ever-present fatigue since magic left their world. But now, their body screamed at them everything they’d been trying to ignore. Everything they’d kept from Portia.

A chipper, rhythmic knocking on the door took them out of their thoughts. Despite everything, Isha couldn’t help but smile.

“Welcome back,” they called.

The door swung open with no hesitation as their wife bound into the room. Her sunny smile lit up the room, emphasising the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. A true smile, reserved for Isha and their children alone. She kicked off her worn boots, shutting the door behind her as she waltzed over to the bed.

“I’ve been missing you,” she teased, leaning in for a quick kiss. “We should be ready to undock soon. Jasna’s grown up to be a fine bosun. I swear, soon they’ll be rigging the boat with their hands tied behind their back just for the challenge. Right after we—”

Portia’s eyes locked onto their bedside table. A half-finished tankard of beer sat over an unfamiliar note filled edge-to-edge with scrawling ink. Her eyebrows tensed, frowning.

“Was Ilya here?”

“Yes, he just left,” Isha said. “He was sorry he couldn’t stay to see you, but he needed to get back to his partner before dark.”

“Did he at least squeeze in a ‘hello’ to his nieces and nephews?” she asked, her voice lightening to a dangerous cheer. Isha shook their head, looking back to the note.

“No…”

They needed to tell her.

He’d written everything she’d need to know but she didn’t deserve to hear it from Julian’s letter.

Portia stroked through their dull curls, pushing them away from their face before gently cupping their cheek.

“Are you feeling better from this morning?” she asked.

Isha took a short, weary breath.

“I’m not well, Portia,” they said softly. “I went outside for some fresh air this afternoon, when I ran into Julian and I had one of those attacks. He helped me back to see what was wrong and it’s getting worse.”

Hurt flickered across her expression before she slapped on a determined smile.

“But he told you how to treat it, right? That’s what the note is. I know we’re charted to sail down the Strait of Seals but if we don’t have what you need or the cold would be too much, we can change course,” she reassured, picking up a pace with no intention of stopping. “And look on the bright side! Now Ilya’s seen you, we might be able to get you back on your feet. You’ve been feeling low for a while now, think of all the places we can visit once you’re better. You can get back off the ship and travel inland. I’ve heard it’s really settled down in the north and I’d love it if we could visit Sun lake again—”

“There’s nothing to treat it,” Isha asserted, but Portia barrelled past.

“—And if we’re passing through Galbrada we can meet back up with Lavi. In his last letters, he was so excited about his travels—”

“I’m dying.”

Portia’s voice cut out.

The ship creaked and drummed with the distant movement of the crew above deck but to them, the quiet hung in the air like a dense fog.

“You’re not dying,” she insisted, the shine in her eyes fracturing. “You’re not dying, you’ll be okay,” she repeated. “I’m the Ambassador of Vesuvia! Along with Prakra, we’re one of the most powerful cities in the land and I have ships in every port in the five seas, loaded with imports. Ilya just must not know what we have access to. Even if—if you’re as ill as he says, we can find a cure. He could look again o-or we could go to Nazali. I know they’re older now, but they’ve trained so many medics, and if that doesn’t work, I know the leader of Urdangabil. They’re one of the leading pioneers of new medicine and if I look through my silvered book, I’m sure I can find something to get her to—”

“No.” Isha gripped Portia’s hand, staring deep into her eyes. Their gaze softened, their care hurting her more than any blade. “I’m dying, Portia

She frantically shook her head, her lip quivering.

“Don’t say that.”

“I’ve been dying ever since the magic left.”

“You’re not going to die! You’re going to be okay…”

“I was never going to live that long. It was borrowed time.”

“You told me you were okay!” Portia sobbed. There was nothing else she could say. She broke.

Pearly tears streamed down her cheeks and she collapsed into Isha’s embrace. She gripped their nightdress, holding onto them like a drowning woman to driftwood. Helpless sobs wracked through her body and Isha held onto their wife in return, gently rubbing her shoulder with their stump. It felt unfair. They were still so warm. Their heart beat the same reassuring patter as whenever Portia curled up against their chest. How could they… How…

But she knew how. She knew why and the thought only made her choking cries harsher.

“I’m sorry…” Isha said softly. “You deserved to know sooner… I wasn’t okay.”

Their chest grew wet from Portia’s tears and they only held her closer.

“It’s… gotten worse over the years,” they explained. “The first few were just this tiredness, but then my headaches came back. Tiredness became exhaustion. I felt… hollow. Like I was using myself up from the inside with every breath and step. It wasn’t until Julian saw me that I recognised it… You know me; I’m useless at asking for help.” They tried for a smile, even if Portia couldn’t see it. “I’m thankful every day I didn’t put that promise in my vows.”

Her crying hitched with a hysterical laugh before slamming her fist against their chest.

“STOP IT!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “J-Just stop it… Stop being s-so stupidly calm! How can y-you just—just accept this?! We’ve done so much… so much… All together. How could I have missed it? I have secrets on every city’s leader. I have ears and eyes everywhere. How—How didn’t even know my own spouse was d-dying!”

“I didn’t know,” Isha whispered, “and I didn’t tell you. It’s not your fault.”

“But it is! You know it is more than anyone. I was the one who chose to kill Aunt Tasya! I could have talked to her. I could have done anything to convince her, I could have…" She stilled under Isha’s arm. Tears dripped from her wide, unfocused eyes.

Moving like a stiff puppet, she fell out of their embrace.

“...The Arcana,” she whispered, the words barely leaving her lips. “I know Asra looked into it and found nothing… but that was just the first year. We have access to so much more… That’s it. I… I could try and call on them. On the other world. Even on—”

Portia jolted out of her daze with Isha’s iron clasp around her wrist and their amber eyes boring into her with a fire she hadn’t seen in years.

“You can’t,” they ordered. “Whatever happens, you can’t repeat Tasya’s mistakes. When we killed her, we accepted the consequences, and I don’t regret it. I can’t let you fall down that path. No matter what happens to me, you need to remember that. I’m not saying you can’t grieve, but you have to let me go.”

More tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks. Isha let go of her wrist, reach up to hold her face and brush them away with their thumb.

“You’ve done everything you can for me and more,” they said. “You’ve given me a goal, friends, a family. It means more than I could ever say, and I’m glad I’ve had this time with you, but it was always a half-filled hourglass.” They inhaled sharply, their chest suddenly feeling too empty until they breathed through the pain. Their eyes fell closed as they rested their forehead against Portia’s. “I’ve died once before. I don’t remember anything about the life I had before it, but as hard as it is, I know it’s different this time. I don’t want to die. I’m scared. I hate upsetting you. I want to see our children grow up and know the lives they’ll lead. But I’ve accepted it. I can’t ignore it or put it off.”

They pulled back with burning eyes and a tight throat.

“You’ve made my life worth more than I ever thought it could be. I love you, my light. Thank you for loving me.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #portia devorak #the arcana spoilers #portia x apprentice #isha the apprentice #fanfiction #art #tw character death #or discussions of death #a decade is both an entire lifetime and far too short

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