#cold dark short days not among them

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Three.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky get closer. Your choice only gets harder.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au.

Word Count - 6.4k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. cursing. angst. alcohol consumption.

Author's Note - angels, i can only apologise for the wait!! i've had some stuff going on, and i was on vacation, so this has taken a while. thank you so much for your patience, kindness and support on Honey Girl - it means everything.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! i will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sunlight seeps through the stained glass windows, murmured chatter echoing off the stone walls around you.

You smooth down your dress and adjust your bracelet, smiling at the rare sight of your family and friends all gathered together in one place. Your parents are sat on either side of you, all of you eagerly awaiting the beginning of this exciting occasion.

Man, you love weddings. You always have. So much happiness and joy in one short day, everyone excited about the possibility of eternal love.

You're still sat waiting when you realise, with quiet uncertainty, that you're not sure whose wedding this is. All of your family is here, as well as many of your friends. So why do you feel so confused all of a sudden?

The Priest gestures for all of the guests to stand just as the first notes of the Wedding March begin to reverberate around the room. You turn around, craning your neck to try and get a glimpse of the bride.

You don't know her, but she's... beautiful. Long, dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, white silk dress hugging her frame perfectly, accentuating every dip and curve. She has kind eyes, warm and brown, and a blinding smile that's infectious and dazzling. Her skin glows in the stained glass sunlight, illuminating her in an ethereal radiance. She has a beauty that belongs on the cover of a magazine, or on the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel.

You eagerly turn back towards the altar to find out who her lucky groom is. He has his back to you, dark suit stretched across his broad shoulders. He turns, and you can't help the gasp that escapes your lips.

It's Bucky.

You're panicking, suddenly. You want to scream, shout, run over to them and object in any way possible. Your Mom grabs your hand tightly from one side, as your Dad does the same on the other.

"Mama, I have to-"

"You can't, sweetheart. It's not fair."

"You made your choice," your Dad says kindly, not an ounce of malice in his voice. "Now you have to let him make his."

White hot tears drip down your cheeks as your chest rises and falls with frantic frustration. This isn't how you wanted things to go. This wasn't supposed to happen.

The lights in the church are suddenly too bright, the wooden pews too hard. There's an incessant knocking noise coming from somewhere in front of you, loud and overwhelming. You swear someone's shouting your name in the distance, among all of the chaos.

"Honey? It's Bucky. Are you okay?"

Why is he asking if you're okay? Of course you're not okay, you're in this living nightmare.

Nightmare.

You're having a nightmare.

You wake with a startled gasp, cheeks wet and warm, sweat dripping down your back. The knocking hasn't stopped, in fact, now it's even louder.

"Sugar? Are you in there? Can you let me in?"

It's Bucky. Bucky's here.

You throw yourself out of bed and race through your apartment, swinging open the door. Bucky is stood on the other side, still in his navy plaid pyjama pants, sweater thrown over himself haphazardly. You look down at yourself and see that you're only wearing an old t shirt, legs bare and feet cold on the wooden floor.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently, stepping forward into your space. "I had this horrible feeling. It was like... like I was panicking. I knew it wasn't me so I figured it must have been you. What's wrong, sweets?"

He snakes his fingers around your wrist and pulls you into him gently, wrapping his arms around you completely. You relax into his embrace, inhaling the warm, cosy scent of him. All the fear leaves your body, and you cling to him tighter, worried that he'll disappear any minute.

"I had a nightmare," you whisper into the soft cotton of his chest.

He pulls back to look at you, large, calloused hands cradling your tear stained cheeks.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You deliberate for a second before shaking your head softly.

"If you change your mind, you know I'll always listen to you. Any time. I mean it."

"I know," you say quietly. "Thank you."

You step away from him and towards the couch, where you curl up with your legs tucked underneath you. Bucky walks over to the kitchen, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove. He makes two mugs of tea, handing one into your outstretched hands carefully. He shuffles to sit next to you, pressed into your side, arm slung around your shoulders. You relax into the broadness of him, the comfort he brings, the safety. The two of you fall asleep intertwined, warm and content, wrapped completely in each other and the blanket of your love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're both startled awake by a phone ringing. The unwelcome melody is coming from somewhere between where you're nestled together, limbs intertwined and bodies connected.

"It's-fuck- is that mine or yours?" Bucky's mumbling as he scrambles amongst the couch cushions.

"Yours, I think," you reply, finding your phone on the floor where you've kicked it in your sleep.

Bucky finally finds the source of the noise, trapped in the arm of the couch. He presses the green button reluctantly, still disorientated from being woken so suddenly.

"Hello?"

That deep, raspy grumble of his morning voice is enough to make you melt back into your original position, the tone golden and honeyed. You slide back towards him and tuck yourself into his side, the two of you fitting together perfectly.

You can hear muffled talking on the other end, which takes Bucky a minute to comprehend. When he does, his eyes widen, and he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

It's your Dad, he mouths silently, muscles in his body going rigid.

Fuck, you mouth back, praying that he can't hear the two sets of heaving lungs on your side of the line.

"Yeah, of course. I'll be there. Sounds good, man. See you then."

Bucky's about to hang up the phone, when your Dad makes a noise of complaint. You can hear your Mom yelling something at him in the background.

"They're coming here," he whispers to you as quietly as possible, covering the phone speaker. "Fuck, what do we do?"

"Tell them you're already here... borrowing something. Or giving something back."

You shoot him a look that says trust me. Trust you, he does.

"I'm with her right now. I can ask, if you want? Yeah, just dropping off a couple of tools - last time I saw her, she mentioned a few loose screws in one of the kitchen cabinets. Easy fix."

You can hear your Dad singing his praises and expressing his gratitude, and your Mom asking Bucky to put you on the phone. He passes it to you carefully, as if it's a bomb, bound to explode at any given second.

"Hi, Mama."

"Hey, sweetheart. Bucky get everything sorted for you?"

"Oh, yeah. He's been great. Fixed it in two minutes flat. I just didn't have the right kind of screwdriver."

"He's one of the good ones, huh?" she chuckles. "We called to tell you that you have to come to our get together later. I know it's a little impromptu, but we have so much produce from the garden, too much for just us. We'll have dinner in the backyard, and drinks, and play some games. And we'll tell you all about the wedding!"

Your Mother has a gift for hosting. She's a people person through and through, warm hearted and kind spirited in nature. She loves having people over at the house, loves cooking for them, loves choosing wine pairings for her dishes and explaining each one carefully. It's a gift. She's a gift.

"I'd love to come, Mama. Do you want me to bring anything? I can make desserts?"

"Oh, darling, would you? I'm making a strawberry and cream tart, but you know it's nothing compared to your talent."

"Oh hush," you chide playfully. "I'll see what I can conjure up. Maybe I'll even rope Bucky in to help."

You wink at him cheekily and he laughs, the sound settling gently in your ribs like a caged bird singing it's morning song.

"Glad to be of service!" he yells into the phone, his right hand moving to rest at the nape of your neck. He massages the muscle there gently, and the tension leaves your body just as quick as it arrived.

"What time, Mama?"

"Everyone's arriving at seven o'clock, but you and Bucky feel free to come any time. Did you hear that, Bucky? Any time!"

"Loud and clear," he chuckles. "See you soon, Lori."

"Bye, you two. Call if you need anything. Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too."

She hangs up the phone and you're plunged into silence, the two of you panting like you've just ran a marathon.

"Fuck," Bucky breathes.

"Yeah, fuck," you exhale. "Now my parents think I'm not capable of fixing a loose screw."

"It was the first thing I thought of! Sorry, honey. Didn't mean to undermine your DIY skills."

You fake angry, but you can't keep it up while he's looking at you like you hung the moon just for him. The corners of your lips twitch, and before you know it, you're grinning at each other like idiots.

"Now I have to make dessert," you laugh. "There go my plans for the day."

"You offered."

"I panicked!"

"I'll give you a hand, if you need it. I don't have to be at work for another hour and a half."

"It's okay," you reassure, reaching out to link your fingers with his. He's still absentmindedly tracing patterns across the back of your neck, the sensation almost soothing you back to sleep.

You relax into Bucky, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. He's so warm, and soft, and broad. You realise that there's been two occasions recently where you've slept like the dead. Both were in Bucky's arms.

"You wanna help me make breakfast?" you whisper, careful not to disrupt the golden glow of the morning sunlight. The orange hue of the room feels fragile, sacred even. You don't want to ruin it.

"Of course. I can't bake, but I can cook. I have my uses."

"That, you do," you tease, leaning back into him as he places a tender kiss on top of your head. If you could bottle up this feeling of complete tranquility, you would. For a moment, everything else disappears. It's just you and your soulmate. Nothing else matters.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky, as it turns out, is a decent chef.

Sure, he's not Michelin star level, but neither are you.

You're sat on the counter, bare legs dangling over the side as you watch him move around your kitchen with ease, as if it's his own. You can't help but notice the way he belongs here. Like he's been here all along.

Bucky leaves everything cooking on the stove to come to stand in between your legs, warm hands splayed across your thighs. He rubs comforting circles into your skin while his steely blue eyes look at you intently.

"You okay?"

You smile at him softly, draping your arms around his neck to play with his hair.

"I'm fine."

You're not fine. The words California and Bakery and Dream Job and Bucky keep circling around your mind like horses on a fairground carousel. The more time you spend with Bucky, the more your Tethering makes sense. The two of you work. This connection you have is made of threads of gold, braided into both of your souls.

"You've been quiet all morning. And... I can feel it, you know. This anxious, sinking feeling, deep in my chest. There's something really bothering you, honey."

You take a deep breath and grasp onto his shoulders tightly, grounding yourself back down to Earth.

"I'm okay. There's just a couple of things I need to work out, and I think they're giving me some anxiety. I'm just stressed, I think."

"Are you trying to convince yourself, or me? Because you're not doing a very good job of either."

He's only teasing, but the way he's looking at you makes your breath hitch. It's as if everytime he looks into your eyes, he's also looking into your soul. It's like he can read your mind. Your heart is covered in braille and he's running his fingertips over it gently. You suddenly feel very exposed, shrinking down into yourself on the counter.

"Hey, pretty girl. Look at me. Please."

He uses his finger and thumb to tilt your face towards him, holding onto your chin gently.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to push you, or anything. I'm just worried. It's weird, being able to feel what you feel. I think I'm still getting used to it."

You smile at him carefully, running your fingers over the stubble on his cheeks.

"I appreciate you looking out for me, Buck. It's just... overwhelming, I guess. Nothing's a secret between me and you anymore."

You both know that's not true.

"You know, if there's anyone who understands how you feel... it's me."

"You're right," you laugh, "on account of the whole half-of-my-soul thing, I guess."

"Exactly. It's scary, but you're not alone in this. The two of us will figure it out. I know we will."

He has so much faith in you it makes you want to cry.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, firm and reassuring. It's like he's reminding you that he's right here, in front of you. He's not going anywhere.

You might be, though.

"We've got all the time in the world, remember?" he murmurs against your mouth.

"All the time in the world," you echo, tucking your head into his chest.

He holds you close until your breakfast starts to burn. The impending fire on the stove is nothing compared to the impending fire that feels like your future.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you eat on your balcony, tangled together on the love seat chair. The sun is beating down, beams of light illuminating Bucky, setting him aglow. He looks like an angel, the golden hue creating a halo around him. You wonder for a second if he is. An angel sent just for you.

"Oh hey, did I tell you?" he asks, turning as much as he can in his spot to face you.

"Tell me what?"

"Leonie and Eli are having a baby."

"No way!" you exclaim, grabbing a hold of his hands in excitement. "I'm so happy for them. Man, it feels like yesterday that they found each other."

"Right? Hell of a story, too."

"Rough one, though. I mean, imagine it. You introduce your brother to your new girlfriend, and turns out they're soulmates."

Bucky's laughing so hard that he's clutching at his stomach, shaking the chair and you along with it.

"That's fucked," he wheezes. "It's so fucked."

You can't contain your own laughter, not when his is so contagious.

"It's not funny," you breathe, but you're giggling so hard your sides hurt.

"Not funny at all," he chuckles, pinching your thigh.

"If you think about it, our Tethering is a little fucked up too. I mean, you're my Dad's best friend."

"Yeah... not ideal, huh?" he teases, still laughing.

"Not ideal at all, really," you agree playfully.

You sit in the quiet for a moment before you speak again.

"What do you think they'll say? When we tell them, eventually?"

Bucky thinks for a moment, cogs turning in his brain. He considers carefully before he answers you.

"...I think they'll be happy for us. Your Mom'll be excited. It might be a little harder for your Dad to navigate, I guess, but... he'll be okay."

"Yeah. You're probably right."

The rational part of your brain is telling you that he is. They'll be ecstatic that the two of you have found your person. The celebrations will be endless.

But there's a tiny, nagging piece of your mind that won't let you rest. It's taunting you, telling you that they're going to be confused, shocked, upset. That they won't accept the two of you. You can't lose them over a soulmate. You won't.

You clear your throat and stand from your spot, picking up your empty plates.

"Don't you have to be at work soon? I doubt you can show up in pajamas."

"I'm the boss, pretty girl. I can wear whatever the hell I want."

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he relents.

"Fine. I need to change. But I'll see you later? At your Mom's?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll see you there."

You walk Bucky to the door, opening it expectantly. He looks at you for a moment too long, still unconvinced by your reassurances from earlier.

"If you need anything, just call me. You know you can talk to me anytime, yeah?"

"Yeah," you confirm, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his t shirt. "I know, Buck. Thanks."

He leans in to kiss your forehead before leaving you in the doorway, more confused than ever.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You commit your day to baking your feelings away.

As soon as Bucky left your apartment, the space felt empty, incomplete. Much like you do. As much as you hate to admit it, you feel better when Bucky is around. You know it's the whole Tethering thing, but still. Your heart feels fuller, the world seems brighter, the sun on your skin is warmer. Everything's easier when your soulmate is next to you.

You click on the radio, a soft, jazzy melody filling your kitchen. You begin to measure your ingredients, picking up bowls, utensils and your piping bags as you go.

This is the only thing you've ever felt like you were made to do. Sure, you've had hobbies as you've grown up. You're a good swimmer, you enjoyed soccer, you weren't too bad at dance. But nothing compared to baking.

Which at first, sounded ridiculous. Grown ups would ask you what you wanted to be when you were older, and when you said Baker, they'd laugh in that patronising way that adults do. It didn't stop you, though.

Your Grandma bought you a half empty recipe book for your tenth birthday. You can create your own and add them, she'd said. You'll be publishing a book with your name on in no time.

Your parents took you on a European vacation when you were sixteen. In Amsterdam, you passed this tiny little bakery, tucked away down a back street. It was red brick with a big window in the front, showcasing the cakes and endless sweet treats they had to offer. When you peered through the glass, you watched as the woman who you assumed was the owner went about her day. She looked so happy to be serving her customers. You decided then and there that was going to be you one day. A Bakery of your own. A happy life.

Which is why you're having such a hard time. You haven't talked to Stella since she called you, and you're worried she's going to change her mind if she doesn't hear from you soon. You haven't talked to Bucky about it either, even though he presented you with opportunity after opportunity this morning. It's starting to feel like the walls are caving in.

So, you do what you do best. Bake.

The day passes by quicker than anticipated, lost in a cloud of cinnamon and powdered sugar. You're wiping down your counters when your phone rings, Bucky's name lighting up your screen.

"Hi, Buck."

"Hey, pretty baby. You want me to pick you up later? I'm passing your place anyway."

He's always thinking of you so selflessly. The thought makes your heart stutter for a moment.

"You sure you don't mind?"

"Course not. I can drop by at six? Gives us enough time to help your Mom set up."

"Sounds perfect. Thanks, Buck."

"See you then, honey."

You hang up the phone and realise the hours have completely escaped you. You jump in the shower and do your hair and makeup in record time, miraculously. You're stood in a towel in front of your closet when you feel Bucky pull up outside. The tension in your chest eases a little, and you take a deep, full breath. He knocks on the door, and you completely relax.

"Hey, you," he greets, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

You take a step back to look at him, and almost lose your balance. He looks ridiculously handsome. He's wearing a dark short sleeve button up that hugs his biceps so tightly, you're worried it might burst open. His jeans cling to his thighs deliciously, and the leather jacket slung over his shoulder adds a ruggedness that most men couldn't pull off. Your eyes rake over him slowly, taking him in from top to bottom. He lets you devour him, smirk never leaving his lips. Eventually, you meet his gaze.

"You see something you like?"

"You clean up real nice, Barnes," you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

You untangle yourself from him before you jump his bones, and walk back to your closet. He follows you and sits on the edge of your bed, watching your every move like a hawk.

You pick out a sage green sundress that skims your thighs and hugs you in all the right places. It's a warm night, and your Mom loves to start a bonfire when it's cold.

"Close your eyes, playboy," you scold jokingly, laughing when he flops backwards to stare at your ceiling.

You slip the dress on, and realise it has a zipper at the back that you can't reach.

"Buck? Can you zip me up, please?"

He rises from his spot on the bed and strides over to you, standing a little closer than necessary. He pulls the zip upwards ever so slowly, fingertips brushing your spine as he goes. He's so warm and so broad behind you that it sends a shiver through your body.

Bucky brushes your hair to one side and leans down to press a featherlight kiss the place where your neck meets your shoulder. You hum in contentment, which only spurs him on. He begins to leave kisses wherever he pleases - your shoulder, your neck, behind your ear. You practically melt into him, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady.

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen."

You smile at his words, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder.

"Says the man that looks like a goddamn supermodel."

"Oh, angel. Now you're just lying to me."

His chuckle rumbles through the both of you, the sound lighting up your nerve endings.

Your eyes flick across the room, where you notice the clock on the wall.

"Baby," you whisper. "You gotta stop. We're gonna be late."

He groans lowly and lets his head loll into the crease of your shoulder.

"I was fine until you called me baby," he murmurs. "Now that's all I'm gonna be thinking about for the rest of the night."

"Sorry."

"You're not."

"I'm not."

You both laugh and untangle yourselves, you moving to put on your shoes while Bucky straightens himself out.

"You gonna be able to keep your hands to yourself, lover boy?"

"I'm gonna have to," he grumbles, trying to hide the smile that's fighting to take over his face.

You lean against him as you do up the straps of your shoes, dancing your fingers down his arm to interlink your hands.

"Ready?" you ask, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

"Ready," he confirms, leaning down to kiss you chastely.

"A night of pretending that we're not soulmates. How hard can that be?"

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Pretending that Bucky isn't your soulmate is one of the hardest things you've ever done.

You haven't even made it inside yet.

Buck parks his truck in your parents driveway and turns to look at you. You've been silent the entire ride over, and it's making him anxious. He reaches over and places a warm palm on your bare thigh, thumb rubbing patterns back and forth.

"You okay?"

You take a deep breath, which is all the answer he needs.

"It's alright, baby. I'm nervous too. We've got this. We're alright."

You look into his eyes for the first time since you were in your apartment, and have to fight to stop yourself from crying. You nod and bite your lip, inhaling and exhaling carefully.

"You're okay. I promise. It's me and you, honey girl. It's me and you."

You want to crawl over into Bucky's lap and bury your face in his chest. You want to curl up in his strong arms and let his scent envelope you. You want to tangle your fingers into his hair and smash his lips to yours, until you don't know where you end and Bucky begins.

Instead, you bring his hand from your thigh to your lips, and kiss each of his knuckles tenderly. The gesture makes his heart beat so fast, he's a little worried he's about to pass out.

"Come and talk to me anytime tonight, okay? I've got you. I've always got you."

You nod again, and take another deep breath.

"I know, Buck. It's the only thing I'm sure of."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"My baby!"

Your Mom smothers you in a hug the minute you knock on the door, almost tipping you over in the process.

"Oh, you look so beautiful. This colour is gorgeous on you, sweetheart."

The heaviness of your heart gets a little lighter at the sight of your Mother. She's magic like that.

"Thanks Mama. Is your skirt new? It's pretty."

She gives you a twirl, the skirt billowing around her like a princess. Both you and Bucky smile when you catch each others eyes briefly.

"I got it on our trip! Your Dad got a new shirt too - he looks so handsome."

She's grinning from ear to ear talking about him. Your smile only gets wider.

Bucky gives your Mom a one armed hug, and hands her a white box with a bow on.

"I wish I could say this is from me, but I don't have nearly enough talent for that."

"You're plenty good at other things, Buck," she laughs. "What's in here, sweetheart?"

"Apple, carrot and cinnamon cake with cream cheese frosting. I piped little bunny rabbits on top, too."

Before she can say anything else, you take the box from her hands and walk into the house.

"We better put this in the refrigerator before the frosting melts!" you call as you leave.

"Come on Buck, let's get you a drink. Jack bought your favourite."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your parents backyard looks incredible.

Golden fairylights adorn the deck, illuminating the dining area that your Mom has set up. The table is covered with a white lace tablecloth, and littered with tea lights and candlesticks. Each place setting has a wine and a water glass ready, fringed cushions perched on each wooden chair. There's a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a stained glass vase as the centerpiece, more flowers scattered across the entirety of the table.

The sun hasn't set yet, and the entire garden is dripping with the glowing orange hue of the evening. The air is warm and calm, salty ocean breeze only disrupting the peace occasionally. If summer were to be summed up in a night, it'd be this one.

Your Dad is pouring water into all of the glasses from an ornate painted jug when you walk into the yard.

"Hi, Papa."

"Oh, sweetheart!" he smiles in surprise, abandoning his task to come and give you a hug. "You look amazing. I like your dress."

"Thank you - hey, is this your new shirt? It suits you!"

"It's nice, right? Your Mom picked it out. She said the colour brings out my eyes."

You look him up and down comically, crossing your arms over your chest like a cartoon detective.

"Hmm... she's right. It definitely does."

You're both laughing when your Mom and Bucky join you, the two men immediately smacking each other on the back affectionately.

"Where you been, Buck? Work keeping you busy?"

"Stupidly busy - you wouldn't even believe."

"Well, it's your night off, so no shop talk!" your Mom encourages, handing Bucky a beer.

"Easier said than done," he winks, and your breathing picks up just a little.

"Mama, do you need help with anything in the kitchen?"

"Oh, yes please, sweetheart. Come, let me show you what needs doing."

The two of you leave the men to catch up, walking inside to prep the appetisers.

You're slicing tomatoes carefully when you turn to watch your Mom for a minute. She's chopping up basil, completely engrossed. The evening sun beams in, illuminating her as she stands by the window. You love her so much it makes you unsteady on your feet.

"Hey, Mama? Can I talk to you about something?"

She turns and immediately stops what she's doing, giving her full attention to you.

"Of course you can, baby. Anything at all."

You take a deep breath, and carry on slicing while you talk.

"So, you remember Stella, right?

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

There's good food, gorgeous wine and even better company. Your parents invited many of their friends, meaning twelve of you are sat around the meticulously prepared table. In between courses, there's conversation, laughter and games, everyone letting go of the stress of the week.

You're doing everything you can to avoid looking at Bucky. You're worried that if someone catches the two of you, they'll know everything. You're surprised you haven't confessed already, the weight of the secret too heavy to bear.

Your Mom is cutting your cake on the table when there's a sudden commotion.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Shit! Shit, I'm sorry. Shit."

"Is everyone okay?" your Mom asks, flitting to the other end of the table.

"I'm so fucking clumsy, my God. Dropped my wine straight onto Bucky," Jesse, one of your Dad's oldest friends, explains.

"As long as it doesn't stain my white tablecloth, we're fine," your Mom laughs. "What do you need, Buck?"

"It's only white wine, luckily, so no stain. I'm just wet. I'm gonna go dry off."

"I have a hairdryer?" you offer without thinking.

"Good idea, honey. Go help Bucky upstairs while I get some paper towels."

You rise from your chair and make your way inside, heart racing as Bucky follows you. You rummage around the drawers of your childhood bedroom, certain you used to keep all of your hair tools here somewhere.

"You got it?" a warm, whiskey smooth voice asks from behind you.

"Got it," you reply, standing up with the hairdryer in your hand.

Bucky kicks the door closed behind him, and takes a step into you.

"I can't focus on anything when you're sat there in that dress," he murmurs. "Look like a fuckin' angel, all pretty under the lights."

Heat blooms over your chest, and you pray he doesn't notice. Your breathing quickens, and you step forward too, now chest to chest with him.

"I'm so worried that I'm going to accidentally blurt it out," you confess. "You're the only thing that's on my mind."

Bucky leans down to press his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. You fist your hands into his shirt and pull him closer, snaking your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like mint and sugar and every kiss for the rest of your life.

He groans when you bite his lip, nipping yours back in retaliation.

"Easy, baby," he warns teasingly. "I can't go back down there black and blue."

You roll your eyes and kiss him harder, practically melting when he grabs at your ass roughly.

"What do you need, pretty girl?" he questions against your mouth. "I'll give you anything."

You're panting against him, vibrating with need.

"Need you to take the edge off," you whisper, hands shaking as you unbutton his wet shirt. "Can't carry on like this. Please, baby. Please."

"We've gotta be quick," he reminds, sneaking his hand under your dress to tease you over your underwear.

You grab at his shoulders for leverage, almost certain your knees aren't going to hold out long enough. Bucky doesn't even take your panties off, just slips his hand down the front. It feels filthier this way.

"Fuck," he groans. "This all for me, honey? You been thinking about this?"

"Yes," you whine. "All I've thought about."

Bucky wastes no time, slipping a finger into you easily. After a minute, he adds another, setting a steady rhythm immediately.

"Shit," you breathe, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chest. "We're supposed to be taking it slow."

"You want me to go slow?"

"No, fuck," you say immediately. "Don't stop. Please."

He chuckles lowly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

"I won't, baby. Almost there."

It should be embarrassing, how quickly he can take you to the edge, but you don't care. This is what having a soulmate is. They know you better than anyone - inside and out.

"So close," you whisper.

"I know, pretty baby. I can feel it. Stay quiet and come for me. That's it."

You can't hold out when he uses that tone with you. You're thrown over the edge, your climax running through you like molten honey, hot and delicious. Your knees buckle, and Bucky uses a strong arm around your middle to hold you up.

"There we go," he's murmuring. "Atta girl. That's my girl."

You wrap your arms around his waist and breathe him in, finally coming back to your senses.

"My parents are gonna wonder where we are," you realise. "Grab your shirt and the hairdryer. You're gonna have to do it while I recover."

Bucky smiles at you with so much affection, the world stops spinning for a second. This is a moment of bliss. The two of you revel in it.

Bucky dries his shirt while you go back outside, trying to keep suspicion to a minimum.

"Fixed, sweetheart?" your Mom asks, holding out a piece of cake to you. You take it gratefully and sit back down, relaxing into your chair.

"Yeah, it's basically dry. That hairdryer is old, so it's taking a while."

"Well you didn't miss much, other than Jesse telling the Joshua Tree story for the fortieth time this month," your Dad laughs.

"You love that story, asshole!" Jesse yells, just as Bucky re-enters the garden. He throws you a mischievous smile, which you reciprocate with ease.

Everyone is a little more careful with their wine as the night goes on, keeping all the glasses planted firmly on the table.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"So then I said, well, if you don't like it, leave!"

You're pretty sure you've heard your Mom's friend Cora tell this story before, but you're all laughing like it's the first time. She has such an animated voice, you're convinced you could listen to her read the phone book.

"Which, I mean, I didn't think he would. Imagine breaking up over a chinchilla! A fucking chinchilla!"

You're laughing so hard your sides hurt. You look over to Bucky, and see that he's grinning like a Cheshire cat. You could get used to this.

"So I watched him pack his shit, box by box. Which took fucking ages, by the way. He was using those big plastic boxes, you know the black ones? And he was filling them so carefully and so slowly, that I started helping him!"

You wipe a tear from your face, still doubled over in amusement. You're gonna be sore tomorrow, the way your abs hurt now.

"But I didn't want him taking those boxes, because they're nice, right? They're expensive, and they're mine! So I helped him move out, and then unpacked all of his shit so I could have my boxes back."

Your Mom, despite hearing this story before, hasn't taken her eyes off Cora the entire time. She's such a careful listener. It's one of the things you love most about her.

"Oh, I'll drop them off for you, if you like!" Cora yells, staring directly at you. Everyone turns to look at you in confusion.

"Why would she need all your boxes?" Jesse laughs.

"For the big move!"

Time stands still. The world goes silent. Your heart stops beating.

"...What move?" Bucky asks, never taking his eyes off you.

"To California! Her dream job, falling in her lap. We're so proud of you, babygirl. You've worked so hard for this."

Cora's tearing up now, the alcohol catching up to her. She raises her glass high in the air.

"To our little superstar. The best baker the world has ever seen! Cheers!"

Everyone clinks their glasses together in the middle of the table, except for you and Bucky. You haven't taken your eyes off each other. The world carries on, but you stay still.

You suddenly feel a cacophony of emotions - sadness, anger, betrayal, hurt and confusion settling like ten tonne weights onto your chest. Then it hits you - you're feeling what Bucky feels.

You feel a heart break.

You're not sure if it's yours or his.

tag list part one -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!bucky #dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes #sebastian stan #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #Honey Girl #soulmate!bucky barnes #dbf!bucky barnes #dad's best friend bucky barnes #soulmate!au #soulmate!bucky barnes x reader #dbf!bucky #bucky fluff #soulmate au

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Imagine Zuko is working at the Jasmine Dragon and you are a regular :)

I love the small town coffee shop/ cafe feel, and when you throw in a romance trope- I will smother that MF in butter and eat it for my final meal. I love my grump x sunshine tropes, if you couldn’t tell. 

This one isn’t really following a proper timeline or story, cuz I’m not using Zuko and Irohs fake names and they really are just chillin in that tea shop for this story, BUT just a fluffy idea I really like. Anywho, fluffy and some steam ;) that gets steamy. (WINK WINK)

WC: ~2100 words

So let’s imagine…

Age of Admission: 18 and Wrinkled

Zuko is a server at the Jasmine Dragon tea shop owned by his Uncle Iroh. It became super popular very fast and you thought you would check it out. You walk in one morning and come to meet the owner, he introduces himself as Iroh. He is very kind and as you two talk, you find it is only himself and his nephew who work there. Iroh points out his nephew and when you turn to look where he motions, a figure disappears into the back. You thank Iroh for his kindness and say you cannot wait to come back. You would end up becoming a regular that would come in and read for a long time when the shop was quiet but leave when it got busy.

When you would come in, Zuko was always conveniently the one to help you. He would take your order, he would give you your tea and come by your table to check if you needed anything. He was nonchalantly cold to you but… not…? You would always smile and thank him and try to make small conversation, but Zuko never really engaged, he wasn’t rude and would agree with you then quickly move on. But over time, you noticed Zuko never stopped at any of the other tables to check on them, only yours. 

Over time it is very apparent that Zuko has the biggest soft spot for you but tries not to show it. He constantly stares at you, but glances away before he gets caught. Iroh obviously takes notice fairly quickly and tries talking with Zuko, but it is short lived. Iroh comments “You two would complement each other quite well. Not to mention the smile she brings out of you, now that's quite the achievement.” Zuko only rolls his eyes as he walks into the back. 

On another day you had been sitting for almost an hour finishing your second cup of tea, in the last few chapters of your book, Zuko was glancing at you from behind the counter as he dried a teapot. Iroh tried again, “You should talk to her.” Zuko visually tenses, “What?! No! What would I even say??” He said in a harsh whisper. “You are overthinking nephew, she always tries to spark a conversation, just let your conversation rivers flow and intertwine!” Zuko looked at him blandly, Iroh gave a soft smile, “A compliment can go a long way.” Iroh patted his shoulder and went to walk among the tables conversing with the customers.

One day you had stayed particularly later than you had thought as a rush didn’t happen and you were very into your book. Eventually Zuko walks over to you and places down a small dessert, it was some sort of pear tart. You smiled up at Zuko and thanked him for the kind gesture. “Yeah, we are closing soon and there happened to be some left that didn’t sell.” Zuko said. You shot up, not noticing the time, “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize the time. Can I take it to go?” You say standing and gathering your things, you start apologizing for holding them up but Zuko was only half listening as he looked out the window at the dark street. He was worried about you being out so late and walking home alone. He cuts you off and insists it's fine and to wait till after they close and he would walk you home. Your heart flutters as it was something you knew you wanted but didn’t realize how badly. You smile and nod your head in thanks, but Iroh had overheard and insisted that Zuko could head out now as he could close himself. 

Zuko and yourself walked along the main street, the night was dark but the street lamps lit your way. You hold your book with both hands in front of you as you talk about what happened in the many chapters you read tonight. Zuko and you walk side by side, you smile as you explain the events, Zuko listens but is watching around for anything to be cautious of. You both make it back to your apartment and you thank Zuko for the kind gesture and offer him to come in. To your dismay he declines, you were sad as he turned away and waved goodnight, knowing it was out of good chivalry. After what felt like the longest walk home of his life, Zuko returns to the tea shop. Iroh welcomes Zuko back and asks how it went, Zuko snapped “Do you stick your nose into everyone’s business, or just mine?” Iroh looked at Zuko for a moment, “She asked you to stay, didn’t she?” Zuko scrunched his nose and didn’t reply, he walked back to his room.

You had come down with a cold and didn’t return to the tea shop for a couple days. But little to your knowledge, through those couple days Zuko found himself waiting for you to walk through the front doors. He found himself looking at the door every time someone walked through but disappointment cooling his veins when it wasn’t you. 

After almost a week goes by you show up again, Iroh welcomes you back warmly and insists your regular order will be out swiftly before walking into the back. You smile and take a seat, pulling out your book, not long after Zuko is at your table with your tea. Zuko makes a comment about your absence and you explain how you had gotten a cold and then tease him about missing you. Zuko starts to try and back track his comment, you can see a bit of embarrassment peek through as he tries to cover up his feelings that showed through his concern of you missing. You decide to take a leap and try to show him it's ok. “Well, I missed your company too.” you said warmly, as Zuko composed, someone walked in and up to the counter. Zuko added it was nice to have you back before heading to serve the customer.

A rush started that afternoon so you marked your place in your book, paid and left. You spent some time in the market and on your route home you passed the tea shop. You walked by slowly to see Zuko sweeping by the front door, he looked up and questioned why you were out so late. You smiled and explained about the market, told him about the shops and liveliness. While you were talking Iroh pops out from the back mid question for zuko, but pauses when he sees you. He exclaimed how nice it was to see you again with a warm smile walking to you and Zuko. You return the gesture and brief him about the market that you explained to Zuko. Iroh agreed it sounded fun and insisted You show Zuko, all closing was basically done and could finish up by himself. 

You and Zuko made your way to the market and walked around, there were many food stands, flower stands, jewelry stands, fabric stands, anything you name it was probably there. As you both walked and you talked, a cool breeze started setting in so you looped your arm through Zukos and walked closer to him, commenting on his warmth. Zuko only hummed and continued on with you, even though his heart was totally a butterfly exhibit at that moment. Once the market was fully explored, Zuko offered to walk you home again as it was very late and he should get you home.

Once again you both ended up on your apartment door step. You thanked him for a great night and him walking you back, you unlocked and opened your door, offering again for Zuko to come in. Zuko starts to insist he leaves but you cut him off with a kiss. Zuko was surprised for only a split second, but kissed you back, placing his hands on your waist. You pull away and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Please, stay for a bit”. He looked at you, “Are you sure?” he asked, keeping his hold on your waist, your shirt parted slightly from your pants and the warmth of his hand hummed against your skin. You held his gaze while you grabbed his hand, taking him inside. 

Once you were both in, you handed Zuko the keys, he closed the door and locked it. The second he turned around you moved in, you placed your hand on his jaw and chest. Zuko lavished in your kiss and put his hands on the small of your waist, bringing you in as close as possible. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, but craved more. You grab the bottom of his shirt and pull up, Zuko releases you and grabs his shirt, yanking it off quickly, returning to your lips. But this time his hands didn’t fall on your waist, they reached to the back of your thighs, hiking you up with ease as pleasant yelp of surprise from you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The kiss was so hot you pulled away, your head falling to the side as Zuko moved to kiss your jaw and neck. “Zuko…~ah!” He hummed in response, “Zuko, bedroom… behind us…” Zuko promptly moves to the door you mention, pushing it open with his foot, stepping in and swiftly closing it with a firm but gentle kick.

Zuko set you down on the bed, you eagerly took off your shirt and you laid chest bare, not having worn underclothing today. Zuko’s hands were immediately on your torso, and chest. As Zuko kissed along your neck and collar bone, you scrape your nails down his shoulders and slide your hands along his arms, feeling the lean build of his muscle. Zuko asks if this is ok, what you both were doing, you wasted no time in confirming you were more than ok with it. You grab the waist line of his pants and pull him close, he grunts and pushes himself further against you, you gasp. Zuko goes to remove your pants, you raise your hips to quicken the process. You now laid bare before Zuko, everything for him to see. You could feel the vulnerability creep in and the natural urge to cover, but you knew you were comfortable and this is what you wanted. Your hands worked his trousers and slid them off. Zuko stood proud as he hovered over you, laying between your legs. Anticipation slid around your stomach, you kissed deeply, you could feel Zuko at your entrance, you gasped. He leaned back and looked down at where you met, grinning. Pushing forward slightly, his head pushing against your kitten. “~mmh… ah!” You moan out as he pushes further in, Zuko lets out a breath as he rests on elbows over top of you. He pushes in all the way and an audible gasp leaves your mouth as you could swear he hit an organ. He pulls out and slides back in, in the most devilish way of feeling like he is hitting deeper with every thrust. Your eyes roll back as his hips move in the perfect way, feeling his skin against yours, his muscles move against your body. Zuko puts his arms under your knees and spreads your legs wide and pushes them up, giving him better access as well as deeper penetration, which is baffling to you in that second until he continues. Now nothing is going through your mind except Zuko's breath and your moans in the air. You felt a knot in your stomach form, you tapped on his shoulder and told him you were close. He groaned and kept going as you fell apart under him, almost reaching his peak as you became so sensitive you couldn't contain the moans coming from you. But before you could think, he was about to climax. Zuko cursed and pulled out, cumming on your stomach. You both are absolutely racked from the events, Zuko takes a deep breath in, kisses you and says he will be right back. He comes back with a towel, cleaning you up and laying next to you. 

You lay on his chest and relax, both being out of breath, Zuko said something that shocked you. He exclaimed how he missed you the week you were home sick, and not at the tea shop. You smiled sweetly and cuddled closer to his warm body, explaining how everyday you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.

#prince zuko #zuko #atla #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #atla fanfic #avatar zuko #fluff #smut #grumpy x sunshine

[unholyhelbig]

request: single mom reader decides to loan shark from natasha’s mob. when reader can’t pay back the loan, natasha’s men capture and beat her. natasha sees reader among the criminals and drug dealers who also haven’t payed back their loans, and excuses her, forgiving her debt.

Title: The Oversight

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 2799

Warnings: Drug use, kidnapping, guns, choking, threats, blood, horrible grammar.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

[a/n: Yeah, I kind of feel like this needs a part two. Let me know what you guys think and if you're interested]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Each breath you drew in spurred a sharp stitch in your side. They came in rapid succession, even as you struggled to recall the fuzzy details that usually calmed you down. Your first street name. What you called your first pet. The name of your second-grade teacher. They all swirled foggily, unable to recall.

Your mouth tasted metallic cotton and your heartbeat was pulsing through your entire body. Counting the thrums hadn’t helped either, you gave up as you rolled your neck in a snow circle. The dried blood that hardened against the side of your face, your cheek, and down the expanse of your collarbone crackled at the soft movement.

The room that housed you was pitch black. It was hard to tell when you opened your eyes, tears welling up and dripping down your face onto your uniform. Your arms were bound behind your back, shoulders screaming in protest and fingers going numb from the cold. Your small noises echoed. Wherever you were was impossibly vast.

The next breath that escaped you was deeper than the rest. Not necessarily calm, but enough for you to take stock of the situation; there were flashes of you leaving the diner where you worked nothing short of twelves. It had just rained, and the air was humid. You dropped your keys and bent down to pick them up.

Before you could insert them into the lock, something hard had come down on your temple. There was a rush of heat sloshing down your face and a moment later, as you looked up at the sky, the steel tip of a boot took the rest of your consciousness.

That didn’t bother you. You were fine, a little banged up, but fine. Your daughter was left with the sitter. It could have been hours, maybe even a day. Your stomach clenched in hunger, and you drifted in and out of lucidity. They’d left you un-gagged but you didn’t have it in you to scream. You had a sinking feeling that no one would hear you anyway.

You’d flinched when the first 500-volt lamp let out a sharp hiss before flipping on. You shrunk into yourself, blinking away the sudden burst of white light that filled the room. It was directed towards you, and the rest of the space was still a frustratingly thick darkness. You couldn’t see who had turned them on, but they could see you.

The boots that walked across the floor were loud. They echoed like your earlier sobs. A metal chair was being dragged, and the sound was piercing. It did nothing to aide your aching head. You were thankful to see something other than pitch black, however big the danger.

You recognized the man who was in front of you. His outline flickered solidly. He looked rougher than you did; dirty-blonde hair, and stubble. There was a bandage across the center of his nose, on his fingertips, as if he’d fisted the razor while shaving. His purple T-shirt was covered by a dusty-brown leather jacket. His stare was hard, emotionless.

“You’re awfully quiet for a hostage.” He said, straddling the chair he had dragged over. His chest rested against the metal backing. “You can scream if you want. Wear yourself down. It’ll make this a lot easier.”

“What is this?” You asked instead of taking him up on his offer.

He was familiar to you. Clint. He came into the diner every Wednesday and Friday night like clockwork. He’d order a roast beef on rye with Swiss cheese and extra dressing on the side. He’d suck down two beers with his meal and tipped generously.

Sometimes he was with the man they called ‘The Winter Soldier’. You’d always found the name laughable, but the rumors about him were enough for you to hold your tongue. He never ate but would sometimes order a diet coke and sip it while Clint spoke through large bites of food.

Law enforcement wouldn’t’ touch Bucky Barnes, and your boss would typically comp whatever he ordered. A few months ago, you had shared your first words with him behind the diner. The air stunk of rotted food and hardly counted as fresh air. However, it was a few degrees cooler than the kitchen.

He had offered you a cigarette, one already perched between his lips, a zippo lighter at the ready in his other hand. You declined with the shake of your head, and a quiet ‘no thank you’. There was an uncomfortable silence, but it was better than the damp warmth of the kitchen. A sweet, burning scent filled your nose when he lit his cigarette and let the smoke curl around the two of you like a slack rope.

“You work hard in there.” Bucky said, taking a long inhale. He held it within his lungs, voice pinched. “Harder than anyone else I’ve seen in a while.”

You weren’t about to tell him about your daughter, not with his reputation, or the small smattering of pink scars across his chiseled features. So, you nodded instead. The number of tips you got in the broken down, greasy diner was the difference between two meals and one. So, you smiled sweetly and laid on the southern accent even though you’d only spent a short stint in Georgia when you were eighteen. It was easy to perfect.

“I bet you could name my order right now.”

“You don’t order.”

“I don’t trust the food.” He shrugged listlessly, a lazy smile against his lips. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s a good call.”

He laughed at your honesty, and it was a nice sound. He disarmed you and that was worrying. Bucky let the cigarette sizzle out in a puddle at his feet. He used the tip of his steel-toed boot to grind the paper into damp ash.

“You wouldn’t’ have to work so hard if you had some extra cash, would you?”

The question caught you off guard and you couldn’t stifle the vicious glare that you gave him. Your break was almost over, and you could have, should have, walked back into the restaurant to finish the rest of your shift. Bucky lifted his hands up as a peace offering.

“Look, lady, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. All I’m saying is, you’re not blind to what happens in there, the type of people that frequent this place. You’ve always turned a blind eye and that’s something my boss appreciates. Something she trusts.”

“And who exactly is your boss?”

He tsked “I can’t tell you that, sweetheart. But she wants to make you an offer, she wants to offer you a loan. You’re what? Three months behind on rent? She’ll front that for you and the following two.”

You took a deep breath of stale air. It was a tempting offer, even if it came in the form of a seedy enforcer in an even seedier alleyway. You were three days from getting evicted. Three days from ending up on the streets in a neighborhood that didn’t’ have a single safe one.

“What’s the catch?” You asked.

“Catch? There’s no catch. This is a friendly loan. All you’ve gotta do is pay it back when you’re on your feet again.”

It was an oversight, not asking for a concrete timeline. You hadn’t paid Bucky’s boss back yet, and over the next few months, there were stifled threats, and both Bucky and Clint watched you carefully at the job that you still worked like nothing had changed. The feeling of being indebted lingered, but this time, it was to an unknown entity instead of a landlord that was ultimately harmless.

Everything needed to be paid back in full. These were thousands you didn’t have. And now, two weeks after the initial threat, you were strapped to a metal chair with blood dripping down the sound of your face, in despite need of a drink of water.

Clint was harmless compared to The Winter Soldier, but his muscles still flexed under his shirt as he pulled his jacket off and let it fall to the dusty floor illuminated in blue light. “I would prefer not to get that dirty. It’s genuine leather, you know?”

You glowered at him as he stood and took a few more steps towards you. He looked relatively harmless each time you’d seen him in the diner. Sometimes he had a girl with him, a slight thing that was just as littered in scars as he was. She would order a plate of bacon that was cooked to a crisp and split it with a golden retriever that laid at their feet.

When his wrapped knuckles made contact with your cheek, your head clocked in the opposite direction. There was a sharp pain in your jaw, a ringing in your ear. He had slammed into the same side of your face as earlier, and you lost vision for a second.

Blood filled your mouth, and you spit the mix of saliva, bile, and blood onto the floor. There was a drain in the center and that worried you more than anything else. Your breathing came fast and hard and you glared at him, teeth stained pink.

“Is that all?” You asked him.

It was stupid, you knew it was stupid. But it bothered you more than anything that you had gotten yourself wrapped up in this. Your father was no stranger to the mob, and you should have seen it from a mile away. The fear he lived with. Until the day he died, he would look over his shoulder and you refused to do the same.

Clint grabbed your face, squeezing hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. “You’re a tough chick, huh? I think we both know why you’re here. All you have to do is get the money and all of this vanishes.”

“I don’t have the money.” Your words were garbled between his fingers. “You’re sure as fuck not going to get it if you kill me.”

“Kill you?” Clint unhanded you and let out a laugh. “Kill you, she says. No, we’re not going to kill you, she would never get her money that way… your daughter on the other hand.”

You pulled against the ropes, and they dug painfully into you. The chair was liable to break, but it had been bolted to the floor. It was much stronger than the one he’d dragged over. The mix of anger and fear that had rushed over you pulled away any thought of lingering aches and pains. Be damned to the head trauma.

Your teeth were gritted, voice a low hiss “Leave her the fuck out of this.”

“Did I strike a nerve?”

“I swear to you, I will get your money, I just need time. I’m not… You can keep me under surveillance as collateral, take my car, my apartment- just leave her out of this.”

Clint gripped your throat with his calloused hand, your ability to breathe became more difficult, half-moon nails digging into your flesh. It stung fiercely, and you let out a gurgle in response. “Or she could be our collateral. I think she’d make a great enforcer, with the proper education, that is.”

Is that what happened to the girl that ate lunch with Clint at the diner? She didn’t looked like she was there against her will, but there was an immense sadness to her eyes. Clint hadn’t released you yet and your vison was growing fuzzy at the edges.

“Let her go,”

Your chest was burning at this point and when he pulled his hand back you tried desperately to regain your sense of lucidity. You coughed, nearly vomiting as he took a long stride backwards, seemingly put into his place with a simple sentence.

Over the ringing of your ears, you heard the sharp click of heels. They were confident, and your chin dropped to your chest as you panted in succession, spit dripping in strings from your lips. You didn’t have the strength to look up, your head was pounding.

“I think that’s enough,” Her voice was smooth, just the smallest bit of an accent in her words. You couldn���t place it, but you couldn’t tell which way was up at this point. “You’re dismissed.”

“Oh, come on Natasha, I was just having a little fun.”

“Dismissed, Clint.”

There was a labored sigh and the sound of his footsteps retreating. It brought little relief to you, however. You felt as if you had traded one evil for another. Eventually, you lifted your head to stare at the ceiling. The stranger hadn’t said anything, and the pitch dark above was more desirable to the unknown.

You heard her sit down and felt her eyes watching you. The swimming in your head started to dissipate so you clocked her with a stare. The woman in front of you was angelic, in such a way that you figured Clint’s choking stunt had actually done you in.

Her stare was an unripe green rimmed in gold, her cheekbones carved from marble. There was a beautiful softness to her expression, and her deep red hair flowed over her shoulders in a waterfall of color. She was studying you, not phased by the cold of the room.

The woman wore a black t-shirt, deep slashes of ink peaking from the dip of the V-neck. You didn’t’ let your eyes linger long. It was a marking that you’d seen on Clints bicep and on Buckey’s hand. You hadn’t gotten a chance to clock it on the girl that was kept in their company.

“Is this the part where you come in with your good cop schtick?” You mumbled.

“Darling, Clint is the good cop.”

“Nice, I like it.” You rolled your shoulders back, fighting the stiffness “Bad cop and worse cop is much more effective.”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you for someone in your position. Thousands of dollars in debt and seemingly no way to pay back my money. It’s not a good spot to be in, Y/n.”

Natasha stood from the chair, her muscles straining at the action. In a fluid motion, she pulled a black standard issue handgun from the space between her skin and her jeans. She pumped the shaft, the sound echoed more than your quickened breathing.

She used the tip to push your chin up, forcing you to look into her unblinking eyes. You were a dead man, you knew that from her cold stare. You couldn’t look away, even if the option was given.

“Baby, I’ve been in this business for a long time.” Her breath was hot on your collarbone, a mix of mint and tobacco. “I know exactly the type that you are. I cater to your kind. More often than not, my clientele need a little bit of encouragement.”

The tip of her gun traced your jaw, her finger loosely on the trigger. It was cold against your collarbone, down the center of your breasts. She held it there, jaw set in stone.

“We’ll keep you here for a few days. Once you dry out a little, I’m sure you’ll suddenly come into the cash.”

“Dry out? You think I’m on drugs?”

The tip pushed hard enough into your sternum to make you let out a grunt of pain. “You hide it quite well, pet. I’m sure it won’t be as simple when you start to feel those withdraw symptoms. Money flows simple in this town when those cravings kick in.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her, despite the weapon that she was packing. A frown creased between her eyebrows, but she held it in place. “The hardest thing I’ve ever hit is a blunt in a high school rotation. That was your brilliant plan? Dry me out and then what? Search my backyard for jars filled with money. I don’t have it. I make 2.50 an hour at a diner.”

Natasha scrutinized you, eyes hard. She righted herself and pulled the gun away from your center before flipping on the safety and shoving it back into her jeans. She started to pace the length of the light.

“Bucky, he offered me a loan and I took it so I could pay the rent on an apartment for me and my daughter.” You said, voice quiet “I work thirteen hour shifts six days a week, and it’s still not enough. I’m not… I don’t know who you cater to, but I have a feeling it’s not someone like me.”

“No.” she crossed her arms over her chest, “It seems as if you’re an oversight.”

“Great,” you flexed your numbing fingers, “An oversight you’ll let go?”

Natasha shook her head, clenching and unclenching her jaw. “No, I’m afraid not.”

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Mafia Boss Natasha Romanoff #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #Clint Barton #Kate Bishop #Bucky Barnes #Mafia au #request

[wriitingwoes79]

Naughty Neighbors

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Y/N

Summary: You and Miguel are neighbors in an apartment in Nueva York. There’s a mutual not-so-quiet dislike for each other despite your best efforts to make nice, but it seems the both of you are reaching a breaking point.

Content Warning: a hint of dub-con, mention of masturbation/sex toys, thigh riding, dirty talk, exhibitionism

WC: ~1.2k

AN: this is BARELY edited, but thank my bestie @whaddayadothatfor for helping me out with this! Go check out her Miguel O’Hara and JJK fics <3

MDNI!!!

Miguel O’Hara had to be the worst neighbor in the history of neighbors.


But as terrible as he was, that didn’t stop you from rocking your hips back and forth so that your clit and pussy slickly slid over the length of his generously sized and veined dick as he pressed you hard against the walls of the hallway.


*before the ‘incident’*


Miguel made it his life’s work to be absolutely insufferable. He was rude, constantly making racket and always seemed to be around at the worst time.


You had had trouble sleeping lately, so you did what any newly single gal with frustrations up to your knees would do: pull out the vibrator and go to work. In all honesty though, you’d had to use it even when you weren’t single too.


You used it more than you’d liked to admit—so much in fact that it needed new batteries and died mid act just as you could hear Miguel rumbling around on his side of the wall. As a result, you couldn’t sleep.


It had ended up setting the tone for the day: waking up too late, cursing over frizzy hair, spilling your coffee on the subway and eventually being berated at work by your boss over a deadline. It didn’t help that your boyfriend had been avoiding you for the past few days after declaring the two of you “take a break”.


You ordered takeout from a place down the street after returning home and changed into comfortable clothes to wear around the house and figured while you waited you might as well go check your mail.


You went through your mail slot in the lobby of the apartment building, finding Miguel’s among yours. You tried his slot only to find it was locked, of course, and sighed.


You would have to talk to him. 


For anyone else, that wouldn’t have been a problem. You were friendly with everyone on the floor—minus Miguel. He was rude, aloof, and often met you with silence when you tried your friendly neighbor tactics. Even when you first moved in and brought over a tray of muffins, he’d declined and slammed the door in your face hard enough the knocker rattled.


He wasn’t your enemy or anything silly like that. No, he was just a fucking douche bag. And there were plenty of those in this building and in this goddamn city, anyways.


Still, determined to be the better person (either to a fault or out of spite), you knocked on his door. You could hear the shuffling and heavy footsteps even through the door, and a sigh sounded between it before it swung open.


Oh, fuck.


Unfortunately, there was always a nagging thought in your mind when Miguel crossed it—he was undeniably attractive. It made it that much more frustrating that he was rude and so cold to you.


Today was no fucking better.


He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest as his dark eyes scanned over your form. They widened slightly as they took in your cropped tank top and fuzzy pajama shorts that did little to cover your generous assets but they snapped back up to your eyes when you shook the mail lightly in front of him.


“Hey neighbor,” you said in a slight sing-song voice. “I have some of your mail. It got mixed in with mine again.” You hold out the mail and he looks down at it.


“I don’t need it.”


You paused, brows furrowing. God, he was frustrating.


“You don’t need your mail?” You asked incredulously. “It’s literally bills. One of these is the electric and gas company! What do you mean you don’t need them?”


“You snooping through my mail now, Y/L/N?” His gruff voice is a near purr as he says your last name and you huff in annoyance.


“Of course not, that would be illegal,” you retort, stressing the syllables of “illegal”. “Just like how it should be illegal to be that terrible of a next door neighbor.” Miguel laughed coldly, the muscles on his chest and biceps pushing through his white tee. The grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips did little to keep your imagination in check and you backed away, still holding out the mail.


“I’m the terrible neighbor? You think I like listening to what happens on your side of the wall?”


Your mouth gaped open in shock.


“What do I even do?”


“You think I don’t have to deal with the shit I have to hear on your side?” He leaned in dangerously close, his lips tilted up in a mocking sneer.


“Like what?” You pressed, crossing your arms over the flimsy tank top you wore.


“The arguments between you and your boyfriend, the noises you make in the morning….the noises you make at night.”


“What noises?” Your cheeks were already starting to feel hot as he bent down to lean closer, his arms still crossed.


“The noises you don’t think anyone hears,” he says quietly, his voice rough and rumbling in the air between the two of you. “I hear everything through that wall. And I’m surprised that little toy of yours last night had any juice left.”


You acted before any actual thought could cross your mind and the next thing you knew— your hand was stinging and Miguel’s sculpted face was red on his right cheek.


“I…I’m sorry,” you squeaked out, cradling your hand. You backed from his door, the letters falling to the floor. Perhaps if you ran fast enough you could just make a quick getaway. Miguel’s eyes blinked before narrowing, now dark as his pupils widened.

“Don’t try and run off now.”

***


“You think I’m gonna sit idly by while you disrespect me like that?” Miguel’s voice was gravelly and deep, his hands gripping both the front of your thighs and your breasts now pulled from the flimsy tank top as his own hips pushed hard and slow against your ass.


Over and over, the length and head of his dick caught your clit and rubbed dangerously to the point of indescribable pleasure. You hadn’t felt like this in so long.


You hadn’t been touched like this in so long, you were desperate to cum. Desperate to do anything he wanted if it meant you could cum.


“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Miguel remarked, sighing as he nuzzled into your neck, his canines teasing on your sensitive skin. “Deep down this is want you wanted, huh?”


“P-please,” you stammered, unable to form any coherent thought as the wet sounds began to echo in the hallway. You moaned as every muscle in your body began to tense up from a building orgasm.


“What would the neighbors think if they caught you out here like this?" Miguel taunted. "What a naughty little neighbor you are."


"I'm n...I'm not--" 

The ding of the elevator down the hall interrupted the both of you, and in a flash, Miguel had pulled your tank top and shorts back up over your exposed parts, tucking his dick back into the waist band of his sweatpants. Before you could even turn around to say anything to him he'd slammed his door closed, the forgotten mail littered all over the ground. 

The worst neighbor, you seethed.

#marvel x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #marvel smut #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spider man smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac smut #y/n #plus sized y/n

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddiemas Day 7 - Mall and/or Job

pairing: steddie | word count: 1,884 | rated: G

“Munson Residence, wha'd’ya want?” Eddie groans into the receiver.

Whoever this is better be someone super fucking important to have woken him up with their damn ringing. He’s surprised Wayne didn’t wake up too, but it’d be kinda hard to hear the phone over those snores.

“Eddie! Thank god,”

Oh. Steve! Very important, actually.

“Oh, hey Steve, what’s up?”

“Eddie, can you do me a huge favor?”

“Yeah, of course, what’s wrong?” he immediately spirals into what all could have gone wrong, what could be going wrong. Everything dark blue and cold, vine-y and the flashing of red lightning—

“Nothing, nothing–well, something.. Can you please run to my place later today and grab my lunch? I forgot it this morning and I know I’m not going to be able to run back and get it and get back in time to eat it before my break is over.”

“Your lunch?” “Yeah, I packed one this morning but left it on the counter. There’s a key under the mat and everything.” Eddie barks out a laugh, “Tryin’ to get robbed, big guy?”

“I don’t care about any of the shit in that house.” Steve scoffs. He shrugs even though Steve can’t see him. “Fair enough. Sure Stevie, I’ll bring your lunch; when do you want me there?” “Dude, you’re the best; My lunch break is right at noon, can you be here just before then?”

“Got it. Five to noon at Family Video.” he drawls out as if he’s writing the information down.

“Uh, actually…not Family Video..”

A short two hours later, Eddie finds himself among a throng of people inside Melvald’s. He has to fight his way forward at first, but the crowd thins out as he gets closer to the registers.

Damn, he’s not even that far into the store and he feels like he’s ran a mile.

“Ms. Byers!”

“Oh! Hello Eddie, what brings you here?” “Steve called and asked if I could drop off his lunch to him. Do you know where he is? I didn’t even know he was working here.”

Joyce just grins at him. It’s weirdly mischievous. “Only temporarily, he’s near the back of the store. Just head back there and I’m sure you’ll find him.”

“Uh..thanks. See ya later Ms. B.”

He wanders toward the back of the store through the aisles, but stops up short when a fake white picket fence blocks his path.

The whole back corner of the store has been covered in fake felt snow, a couple of those fake plastic trees like Steve’s (though these are a normal size), a candy-striped ‘North Pole’, and dozens of paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling between what seems like hundreds of string lights.

And there, sitting in the middle of it on a throne that looks suspiciously like the one he used to use during Hellfire, is Steve. Dressed in a Santa suit. With long white beard, big ol’ belt and buckle, shiny black boots..

“Psst!”

He’s got something stuffed into his Santa jacket to give him the right shape, and even some small half-moon glasses, but those sparkling eyes, the freckles, that one swoop of brown hair stubbornly sticking out from under the fuzzy brim of his hat, that’s all Steve.

“Eddie!”

Santa Steve is fully enraptured by whatever story the kid on his knee is telling him, their hands waving every which way but somehow missing smacking Santa right in the face. Steve just continues to nod along, then gives them a hearty “Ho Ho Ho!” when they try to squeeze their tiny arms around his fake belly.

“Eddie!!”

He glances over at the sound of his name, and sees Robin waving frantically at him from her spot at old school music stand-turned-podium. She’s got on some sort of outfit that honestly looks like it was supposed to be a jester costume, where’d she even get that from?

His feet start toward her, but his eyes fall back on Steve Claus, now posing for a picture with the kid who’s smiling so wide it looks like his face will split in half.

Managing to take his eyes off Steve for a moment, he sees Jonathan behind the camera, and that Argyle kid is crouched in front of Robin, talking to the next kid in line to see Santa. All three of them are wearing matching jester costumes.

Eddie steps up to her podium after Argyle and the new kid pass in front of him to see Steve, “Family Video not paying enough, Birdie?”

She rolls her eyes, “Well, the extra cash doesn’t hurt. Joyce asked us to help out.”

He nods at her, and finds his eyes drifting back to Santa Steve.

This kid is much more shy than the last one, tilting her head down and taking short glances up at Steve’s face.

Steve is saying something to her, a low comforting sound that Eddie can only make out the tone of. His one hand covers the entirety of her upper back, and his thumb is moving up and down to try and soothe her nerves. His head is ducked down to be more level with her, looking at her over those half-moon glasses.

Suddenly, the girl’s head snaps up and Steve leans back a bit. “Yeah?” he hears him say.

The girl grins, nodding her head like crazy, then she too is squeezing Steve into a hug. It’s so unfairly endearing, he can actually feel his heart swelling in his chest.

Robin speaks up then, “So..?”

“So?” he repeats dumbly.

“So wha’d’ya think, Munson?” 

“Does he need a Mr. Claus?”

He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.

“Uh, wait, I mean Mrs.–Do you have— is someone going to—”

Eddie chances a look over at her…she’s wearing a smug, shit-eating grin. She leans toward him conspiratorially and mumbles out “I wouldn’t mind a Mrs. Claus myself.”

She leans back, still looking smug, but there’s a note of panic in her eyes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “So would he.” he mumbles out himself, jerking his chin towards Steve.

Robin only shrugs “You never know.”

“You never—what do you know, Buckley?” he asks, stepping closer and pointing an accusing finger into her still smug face.

“I know that there’s some mistletoe hanging above the breakroom door.”

He’s confused for just a moment, then understanding floods through him, “You little—”

A short whistle interrupts his incoming tirade, and Eddie can see Steve Claus moving out of the corner of his eye.

“Sorry folks, it’s time for Santa’s Cookie break!” Robin calls out over the long line of people. “He’ll be back in 30 minutes though, don’t you worry!” the smile falls off her face as soon as she turns her back to them.

Eddie follows her, Jonathan, and Argyle toward the back rooms, “I’m gonna take a nap.” She says, “Tell Santa to grab me before he goes back.” She waves toward a door as she passes it and from the sprig of greenery hanging above it, this must be the breakroom. 

Robin takes a right down a turn in the hall, and Jon and Argyle push out the back door of the building.

He expects more of the same when he opens the door to the breakroom, for Steve to huff and grouse about the kids or the parents or something, but when he does, Steve is grinning ear to ear as he combs through his (now removed) fake beard.

“Hey Santa Stevie.”

“Eds!”

“I’ve got your lunch.” he holds up the brown paper bag for Steve to see. Steve nods, and lays the beard out on an empty chair, taking off his hat and glasses too and setting them both on top before stepping forward to grab the bag. “And you have hat hair.” Eddie laughs.

Steve’s free hand jumps to his head and scruffs up the long hairs, making them stick up every which way instead of just being plastered down on his forehead.

“Better?”

“Sure, big guy.” Eddie pokes Steve’s fake belly.

Steve chuckles, then heads to a table in the corner where he dumps out his lunch bag.

“So what’d Past Steve pack for Future Steve?” Eddie asks, plopping down in a chair kitty-corner from Steve’s. “Bologna and mustard sandwich, Doritos, and half of a leftover Hellfire cookie.”

“And a Coke,” Eddie says, taking a can out of his jacket pocket, “I grabbed one for you from your fridge.”

“Thanks, Eddie.” Steve smiles warmly at him. “You want some?”

“No way dude, you gotta get your energy back after dealing with all those kids, right?” Eddie says, waving him off. 

“Eh, some of them are little assholes, but most of them are really well behaved.” he’s ripping his sandwich in half, “Gotta impress Santa, right?”

He offers him one half, and Eddie takes it.

“It’s really not a bad gig, though the beard is itchy as hell…”

Steve starts talking about some of the kids who have come by in the last couple days of them doing this, having started on that past Monday, the 1st.

There were the kids asking for baseball bats, Lincoln Logs, Malibu Barbie, Rockstar Barbie (“Barbie’s a rockstar now?”, “Barbie can be anything, I guess.”), all the usual things.

Then there were kids that asked for actual Santa stuff, “I don’t want my mom and dad to get a divorce.”, “I wish I had some friends.”, “I want my grandpa to get better.”

“Makes me wish I actually was Santa, y’know? Then maybe I could actually help them.”

Eddie’s heart is definitely getting way too fuckin’ big for his chest.

He puts his hand on Steve’s forearm where it’s resting on the table between them. “You are a good man, Steve Harrington.”

Steve’s face flushes nearly as red as his suit. “Thanks, Eddie.” he glances above Eddie’s head then, “I better go wake up Robin, if she naps too long on top of the potatoes, she gets cranky.”

Eddie snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, better get on that.”

Steve stands up and tugs on his hat, not bothering to put on the beard and glasses yet. The fuzzy white band smushes a lock of his hair onto his forehead. 

“Hold on,” Eddie stands as well, reaching forward to tuck the hair under the bottom of Steve’s hat. “Now you’ll be ready to see your adoring public.”

“Thanks,” Steve laughs, walking with him toward the door.

And of course, Eddie forgot all about the damn mistletoe until Steve’s arm stops him in the doorway.

‘Jesus H. Christ…’

He glances over at Steve, then up at the offending plant.. 

Eddie looks back down, out toward the rest of the store where they’d be clearly visible in the doorway.

“I guess you owe me one, huh big boy?” Eddie chuckles, ‘Stupid plant, stupid Robin, stupid Ed–’

His thoughts are cut off when Steve tugs him back into the breakroom, moves him against the wall, and leans down to press a kiss to his cheek. The opposite to the kiss he’d given Steve three weeks ago.

Steve leans back, a smirk on his lips and a pink flush on his face. “Now we’re even.” he winks, then turns out the door to wake up Robin.

i may have actually kicked my feet and giggled about this one lmao

also, rockstar barbie mentioned here is from the 1986 Barbie and The Rockers set

also, also, i'm getting rid of the 'pre' before the steddie up top, you all know what's happening and where this is going lol - it's steddie.

other parts! Pt. 1 (Day 1) | Pt. 2 (Day 2) | Pt. 3 (Day 5) | Pt. 4 (Day 6) | Pt. 5 (Day 7) [YOU ARE HERE] | Pt. 6 (Day 11) | Pt. 7 (Day 13) | Pt. 8 (Day 18) | Pt. 9 (Day 21) | Pt. 10 (Day 25) also on AO3! this year

#santa steve!!! #i feel like all the entries today are going to have something to do with a mall santa type situation #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddiemas #steveddie #eddeve #robin buckley #jonathan byers #argyle #joyce byers #wayne munson #st #stranger things #st ficlet #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #noelle writes

[mitsvriii]

LOVE LANGUAGES

ft. genshin men

bell's note: sorry if the matte looks weird or too bright it's my first time messing around with it, might want to read it on a dark/darker mode just in case, experimenting with a more descriptive writing style so if we like let me know, no specific reader type, not proofread or word counted so if there are mistakes let me know, ga-ming is not included because i haven't been up-to-date with genshin and do not want to mischaracterize him

also date is weird because i accidentally posted and had to edit privately so oopsies

words of affirmation

kazuha, thoma, baizhu, neuvillette, zhongli, diluc

Whether it be a small word of encouragement or a simple, "you're doing great today", he always seems to know what to say and when to say it. His words soft as a dew drop falling from leaf to leaf in a misty morning, hitting your ears with such motion that you cannot help the smile that graces your lips, and lifts up the corners of them; like the movement of a picnic blanket being spread out on a flowery field.

quality time

kaeya, ajax, diluc, ayato, itto, gorou, neuvillette, wriothesley

Despite his busy days or numerous tasks for the day, whenever he gets a break he always goes to spend it with you first. Strolls down moonlight paths, childish games galore among hushed giggles, silent remarks exchanged between the flipping of a book's pages, or adoring smiles with stones that fail to jump the stream's waves like dolphins in the ocean. While your time may be short together as duties will call him back, your graceful smile and happy laughter will fill his lungs with purpose and a calm spirit for days to come.

physical touch

freminet, wanderer, tighnari, lyney, thoma, venti

A lingering hand tracing stars onto your back, each touch making your stress dissolve like sugar on your tongue. In other situations, it's a slightly calloused hand latching onto yours perfectly, as if your two hands were magnets meeting each other as one. A firm yet gentle grasp of his hands onto your hips as he oh-so-softly moves you to the side, your shoulders brushing against each other as he walks ahead of you. It could even be the way his thumb traces your cheek on quiet nights in bed, but no matter what it is your stomach is akin to churning butter whenever he touches you.

acts of service

neuvillette, zhongli, tighnari, alhaitham, heizou, xiao, cyno

Holding open a door amidst the sunny heat waves, waiting oh-so-patiently for you to reach it in your midst. It's even the simple offer to do the dishes or clean up around the house for you after a long day of work. Your clean clothes that were previously in a messy pile on the bed the moment you left your shared home for the day were put away neatly in their respective places in your bedroom by the time you returned home. Food prepared early with a little note, with sweet whispers decorated with ink on the note attached to the plate. Although he might seem cold or awfully busy at times, the things he does for you just because he can, says completely otherwise.

gift giving

xiao, zhongli , neuvillette, ajax, lyney, ayato, diluc, venti, kaveh

A bouquet of freshly picked flowers lying on your doorstep. Or an odd trinket from Archons knows what but he's so proud about acquiring it for you that you can't help the laugh that leaves your lungs. If you're lucky he'll find the ingredients to make his special dish, placing it beside you before retreating back to whatever he was busy with that day, but not before giving your temple a soft kiss. On rainy days he'll appear soaked to the bone, a boyish grin lacing his pretty face, with a chipped-off gem in his hands, claiming that the rain smoothed it out for him; hence why he had to get it instead of waiting for the rain to pass. No matter the gift he brings, though, you always cherish them no matter what

#astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #disappears returns drops headcanons and runs #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #neuvilette x reader #ajax x reader #diluc x reader #venti x reader #kaveh x reader #kazuha x reader #kaeya x reader #tighnari x reader #freminet x reader #genshin headcannons #wanderer x reader #itto x reader #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #lyney x reader

[bettyfrommars]

Death Becomes Us

Part 9: Heads Will Roll

vampire!eddie x supernatural!reader

MASTERLIST PLAYLIST

18+ONLY, vampires, werewolves, mention of witches and ghouls, a pet demobat, a car accident, no smut in this, but definitely next chapter (the kind of non-dream vampire sex you've been so patiently waiting for), reader is taken.

summary: There's a new monster in town, and you are their target. An unlikely trio decides to join forces to get you back. The character Jareth in this is meant to be Jamie Campbell Bower.

word count: 3.6k

author's note: I almost put this on hiatus, but I need to find out how it ends, for my sanity, and I would be more than pleased if some of you wanted to ride it out with me, only a bit more to go. This is not as long as I initially intended, but the next part needs to be all one piece, so I had to split it up. Much love, hope you enjoy.

This chapter takes place right where part 8 left off

“Excuse me?” You balked, looking Jareth up and down there in the alleyway behind Main Vein. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Who did he think he was? 

A thousand year old vampire, probably.  Stronger and faster than Eddie or any vampire you’d met so far.

Jareth smoothed a thick strand of blonde hair behind his ear.  “That’s the problem you see. I wasn’t asking.”

A fog settled in among the cold, winter darkness, crowding in like doom.  Your eyes darted from side to side, trying to understand what you were up against.  Was Jareth alone? Where were those finicky “powers” when you needed them? Even if the superhuman strength you’d been touched with made an appearance, could you take on a vampire?

Did you have a choice?

But then, a wave of fear burned like thorns in your chest and your voice cracked.  “Is Eddie okay?  Did something happen to—-?”

The smile that spread across Jareth’s face was condescending.  “No harm has befallen your trailer park Romeo.  Not at my hand, for that matter.”

Not sure how to feel about that answer, you adjusted your bag on your shoulder and took the first step away from him, on the way to your hearse.  

“Tsktsk,” he had black gloves on to match his long, leather coat.  “Now, I don’t want to take you by force, but I will if you give me no choice.”

You met his eyes with a defiant softness that made him realize, not for the first time, why Munson was clearly so enamored with you. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Truthfully, I haven’t decided what to do with you yet,” he wet his top lip with the tip of his tongue, making eyes at the blood pumping in your throat.  “But I wouldn’t mind a taste.”

 You shrugged away from him. “Why should I go with you?”

“Because I said so,” he arched his brows, and then leaned forward. “And because I’ve had word that there’s a Ghoul in town looking for you.  I’m only interested in your safety.”

You glared at him.  “You’re only interested in yourself.”

“Feisty, I like it. Now, come on, this way,” he inclined his head.

You took a few steps and then stopped short.  “Wait, a ghoul?”

“Servants to the regional monster government, yes,” he said, like everyone should know that already.

You thought about Steve, waiting for you at the bookstore.  You thought about Bela waiting for you to let her out for her nightly fly.  

“How long will I be gone?”

“Until my people can figure out what the ghoul wants from you.”

“Why are you protecting me?” You shuffled in front of him.  

Jareth sniffed, unable to meet your gaze.  “On that note, I am not entirely sure,” he stepped a bit closer then, making you shuffle a step back.  “Call it curiosity, perhaps. You fascinate me, and very little keeps my interest these days.”

When his stare finally locked onto yours, you tried not to show fear under the laser focus of his natural intensity.  

You slipped into the passenger seat of his Porsche, smelling the leather and expensive cologne, and waited for him to get in beside you.  Just as he was about to start the engine, there was a loud bang and crash from above, like something heavy dropped hard and fast onto the roof of his car.

You couldn’t help the scream you let out, peeking up to see that there was, indeed, a dent caving in the metal as if a boulder had crashed into it. A figure leapt to the ground, landing in a crouch between the headlights.

Jareth’s lips peeled away from his teeth with a growl at the sight of Eddie standing there.

Eddie swiped his hair away from his face, expresion softening when he locked eyes with you. He cocked his head and mouthed the question, “are you okay?” 

You were just about to click your seatbelt on, but you threw it off with a thwack against the window and stepped out of the vehicle, ignoring Jareth’s protests.

Eddie’s mind raced. He’d been wanting to talk to you about the not so subtle layers of vampire etiquette, but the time was never right.  Then he was parking another stolen car in the bay at the chop shop and he’d felt your discomfort, the spike in your adrenaline.  Without any vampire claim on you, your blood and your body were fair game to others.  If he could make the claim that you were his, the rest of them would have to stay away.  Even the older, stronger ones like Jareth.  

Eddie went around to your side of the Porsche and met you there, searching your face to see if you’d been hurt. 

“Where did you…how did you?” You stammered. 

He came to your side, so close that his hand brushed the back of yours.  He was breathing heavily, staring at your lips, aching to touch your cheek, to kiss you.

Jareth slammed his car door. “You’re going to pay for the repair, Munson,” he sneered, taking stock of the obvious dent made from his landing.

Eddie licked his lips and moved his jaw as if he were about to say something to you, but then his face tensed when he turned to Jareth. 

“You need to know that she is mine,” his throat dried up when he caught the side glance of your head swiveling to get a better look at the words that were coming out of his mouth. Fully expecting to have you cut him off and disagree, he continued.  “I claim her as my mate.”

Your first urge was to challenge the sentiment, but Eddie pinched the side of your hand and pulsed there a few times to let you in on his intentions.  

“Is this true?” Jareth’s stare bore into you.

You decided to trust your friendly neighbor. “Um, yes, I’m with him,” you were sure that any and all lies would be instantly detected, but the truth was, you didn’t mind saying it.  

“Well, that is unfortunate,” Jareth cleared his throat. “Nevertheless, I advise you to come with me.”

“What’s going on?” Eddie took his chance and snatched your hand in his.  You liked the feel of it, so you let him. “Where are you taking her?”

Jareth’s eyelids fluttered as if he were bored to death. “If you must know, there is a Ghoul named Brenner in town who's been asking questions about your…mate.” He bit the final word out sarcastically.  

At the mention of Brenner’s name, Eddie stiffened. It was familiar to him, more familiar than he wanted to admit. He shifted uneasily to interlace his fingers with yours.

“And a witch, a very powerful one,” Jareth confirmed.  “Possibly even a necromancer.”

You weren’t certain what that meant, but realization seemed to dawn on Eddie’s face. 

You turned to get a good look at Eddie, to search his eyes as if he had the perfect answer for how you should answer that, but his milk chocolate orbs only mirrored your search for answers.

There was also something else behind his eyes, a type of silent pleading that you couldn’t put your finger on.

The truth was, you had no idea you were special.  Not even after that day back in your hometown when you were able to push a man out of the way and stop a moving truck with your bare hands so that it would not crush the both of you.  He’d been going way too fast, about to run a stop sign.  The driver told people your eyes were all white, void of iris or pupil, and there were two indentations left in the metal grill where your hands had been.  

Your father had not explained the weight of your new gifts before he passed.  You liked to think that he hadn’t known, how could he? 

While you’d stood there talking, the fog had grown more substantial, it had weight and texture, so much so that you had to squint to see Jareth on the other side of the car.

“Wait,” Jareth held his hand up, squinting into the haze around him.  “Did you hear that?”

No mistaking, there it was again, a whooshing noise, along with the soft timber of chanting voices.  

You watched in horror as Jareth’s body seized, trembling where he stood as if being controlled by puppet strings, eyes rolling back in his head.  His jaw went slack and his head bent back.

Someone or something was controlling him, possessing his body.

“What is happening?” You gasped, clinging to Eddie.

“I don’t know,” Eddie was already on the move, pulling you toward him to take you into his arms and run. “But I don’t want to wait to find out.”

But he wasn’t fast enough

You felt his body go rigid, too, hand falling limp in your grasp

You turned to find him in a similar state; eyes quivering back into his head, body stiff and vibrating as if he were caught in the grip of some strange, upright sleep paralysis.  

“Eddie, no!” You cried, reaching up to take his face in your hand. Every muscle in his body was tense and his breathing shallow.  

“Eddie, you’re scaring me!” You choked on your fear, tugging at his arm.

But then there came another sound, one that made your blood run cold.

“I control the dead,” a soft, feminine voice said.  “And it just so happens that your sweetheart and his friend are no longer living, if you hadn’t noticed.”

You spun around in a circle, seeing no one.  “Who are you? What do you want?”

She appeared to you then, like a vision.  Long, ebony hair and a dark purple velvet cape, her sharp green eyes were familiar to you in a way you didn’t understand.   

“I want you, Dove,” she said with a sly grin.

The woman said something else, in language you didn’t recognize, and she blew some type of dust into your face from the palm of her hand. 

You were able to let out the first part of a scream for help before your knees buckled and you were falling into an inky abyss.

—----

Since you were late, Steve was on his way over from the bookstore to check on you when he heard your broken, shrill cry.

He called your name and started to jog, peering in through the blanket of fog that was finally beginning to dissipate.  

He vaulted over the hood of one of the cars, pouncing into the street just in time to see the SUV with the tinted windows speed away from the curb, tires squealing.

“Hey!” With a growl, and a red glow to his eyes, he ripped his clothes off as he ran, turning into wolf form along the way.  He was sleek and dark gray, so fast and agile, wearing the night like a cloak.

He chased the vehicle into the night, eventually keeping pace with it through the forest, no matter how much it picked up speed.

—-----

In the shadows of an abandoned building near the tracks with broken out windows and a crumbling roof, Eddie gave a few tight blinks of his eyes; they felt dry and itchy, like someone had thrown salt in them.  There were slabs of broken concrete and a metal beam in front of him from the half-demolished structure.  The air smelled like rat feces and urine, and he was seated on the ground with his hands behind his back.

He shifted to test the strength of his restraints and hissed in pain as the silver chain around his neck and wrists burned him, making a sizzling noise like eggs in a frying pan.

“It’s no use,” the deep voice behind him said.

“Jareth?” Eddie turned his head and cringed in pain again.

Both of them were secured to a thick, cement pillar, facing away from each other.

“Are we alone?”

“As far as I can tell,” Jareth said in his typical, monotone voice. 

“What the hell was that?”

“The witch I warned you about would be my guess,” Jareth returned flatly. “And if you hadn’t slowed us down, we might have had a chance to escape her.”

Eddie went silent, trying to concentrate on the magic force that connected him to you through the sharing of each other’s blood, but he couldn’t hear you…couldn’t feel you, and that worried him more than anything.  

“What is she going to do with her?”

“I am ancient, but I am not a psychic,” Jareth drolled. 

Just then, a huge wolf with red eyes leapt through the gaping hole on the side of the building and trotted over to them, panting, huge tongue lolling out of its mouth of jagged teeth.  Both Eddie and Jareth bared their fangs as the beast closed in on them, sniffing the air as it went. 

Steve morphed back into his human form then, and stood before them completely naked.

Eddie retracted his fangs and tried to look anywhere but at the package on the new arrival. “Jesus christ, put that thing away, man.”

“Where is she?” Steve looked around at the empty expanse, trying to get a glimpse of you.  “I can’t smell her anymore.”

“That’s because she’s not here, you mongrel,” Jareth sighed, annoyed. 

“Did you see where they went?” Chain link welts formed on Eddie’s neck.  “The ones who brought us here?”

Steve worked his jaw, angry with himself.  “I kept up for as long as I could, but then I lost them on the freeway and had to find the scent again.”

Eddie threw his head back against the concrete pillar with a curse.

“Well?” Jareth interrupted the moment of silence. “You could help us out of these restraints if you wanted to make yourself useful.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Steve gave him a glare, his breath like smoke in the frozen air.  “Or I could just leave you to rot.”

“I will spend the rest of my immortal life making you regret that decision—” Jareth’s voice began to raise.

“Enough,” Eddie grunted. “We will be stronger in numbers,” his eyes met Steve’s with a sincere urgency. “She’s in danger.”

“We’ll need to find shelter before dawn,” Jareth reminded him. He looked up at the opening in the concrete with a view of the stars.  In a few hours, the sun would turn them to ashes.  “Or we will perish.”

Steve tucked his chin, willing to set aside his loathing of fangers long enough to get you back, and squatted down to get to work unraveling the massive chain that pinned the two vampires together.  

—----

You could feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness, or whatever type of spell they had you under, watching the lights from the freeway cut by through half lidded eyes. Inside, you were screaming at yourself to move, to wake up.  

Propped up in the back seat, seatbelt across your lap, your forehead against the window.  You couldn’t see the person driving, but in the passenger seat was the woman with long black hair.  Every time your eyelids fluttered open on an inhale, she was watching you over her shoulder.  

“Dr. Brenner will be pleased,” a man’s voice said, possibly from behind the wheel.  “Why he is so desperate to have her, I will never know.”

“He wants her because she is the only one of her kind,” the woman gave a sarcastic cough of a laugh, as if your value should be obvious.  “Reanimated tissue fused with gamma radiation and witch magic?  If he could bottle her strength and regeneration capabilities, he'd be unstoppable.”

“The vampire boyfriend, is he going to be a problem?” the driver asked.

You drifted awake to see the woman’s profile, stoic in the moonlight.

“They’ll be dead by the time the sun comes up,” she sniffed.  “For all the bragging they do about immortality, all it takes is a bit of silver and sunlight to eliminate them.”

Your heart rate picked up, alarms going off inside of you.  A scream caught in your throat but wasn’t able to form a complete sound.  

Something clicked in your brain, and a shift began to take place.

Electricity buzzed under your skin, licking all of your nerves and cells awake.

A change was happening.  

The driver glanced at you in the rearview mirror.  “You sure we don’t have to worry about her waking up?”

The woman scoffed.  “She’ll be out for at least another hour, and then she’s Brenner’s problem.  I didn’t just put any old spell on her, that one could put down a team of elephants.’

There was nothing but the sound of tires on the pavement for a few seconds and then the SUV swerved and the man behind the wheel cursed.

“What the hell was that?” He huffed, struggling to get back into his lane. Something huge had swooped down from the sky in front of them, something with the wings of a bat and legs like an octopus.  

Headlights came toward the window and someone honked for them to move out of the way. 

“I didn’t think there were any demobats on this side,” the woman mused, wondering if that was what she saw, or if her eyes were playing tricks on hre.  “They hate humans.”

There came the sound of scratching on the roof

SCRTCH SCRITCH SCRITCH

And then an animalistic yowl, like the caw of a prehistoric bird.

Bela dove again, but this time, she attached herself to the windshield, obscuring the driver’s view of the road.  

He swerved again, tires catching in the loose gravel of the median, and she flew off the glass.

“Don’t you have any magic to get rid of this thing?” The guy whined.

“I can’t control demobats, no one outside of the Upside Down can.”

“When that fucker comes around front again, I’m gunning it.  Splatter the thing all over the road.”

Behind them, you moaned, brow furrowed, fingers clawing at nothing.  Your muscles throbbed like they were being pulled apart.  

Bela flew into the side window opposite you with a thump, making a spiderweb crack and the glass, and then she rammed at it again.  

“This fucking thing is gonna get in here,” the man spat.

“Just drive faster you moron! It can’t keep up with us.”

He yanked the wheel, pulling the vehicle to the side to try and hit her, but she was already in the air and off again. 

You rolled back in your seat as the speed increased with a jolt, and for a moment, there was peace.

The driver checked the rearview mirror again.  “I think we lost it,” his attention snapped to the woman with the inky black locks.  “What the fuck was that about?”

She was mid-shrug in response to his question when Bela charged the windshield, landing with enough force again to splinter the glass.

This time, there was no wiggle room when he swerved as a semi truck was barreling down on them in the opposite direction, blaring its horn.

The SUV jerked right, tires catching at the lip of a dry irrigation ditch, and then they rolled.  There was the sound of shattering glass and the sickening crunch of twisted metal while the two in the front seat let out shrill screams.

And then everything was quiet.  

—-------

Back at Eddie’s trailer, Jareth paced outside while Eddie found Steve something to wear.  

“These good enough? I think they’ll fit,” he tossed a few things on the couch. Eddie changed out of his leather and slipped on a black hoodie, in case he needed to hide his hair and be in disguise for some reason. 

Still in his birthday suit, ass on full display, Steve’s expression was bitchy as he pinched the material to lift it up for a better look.

“A ratty jean vest?” Steve raised a brow.

Eddie popped a cigarette between his lips, crinkling up the empty soft pack of Camel’s in his hand.  “Sorry the maid hasn’t come to do laundry today, Princess. Those are the only two things I have that are clean.  Take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” Steve rolled his eyes. The jeans he was borrowing had ripped holes in the knees and the shoes were white Reebok high tops.  “I’m usually able to plan better when I shift,” he mumbled, stepping into the pant legs, gently tucking his cock inside to avoid the teeth of the zipper.

Once they’d been freed from the restraints at the abandoned building, Eddie hotwired a cement mixer from a nearby construction site, and then they swung by downtown to see if any of the clothes Steve had worn earlier were salvageable in the street, but they’d been obliterated like a bomb went off. 

“Just do me a favor and take that off before you bust out of it in another transformation, cool?”

Eddie turned away to take a drag from his smoke while Steve inspected the patches on the battle jacket with a frown.

And that was when it happened.

Like the ringing of a phone in his head

A spasm in his chest

He could feel you calling to him

“This is it,” he screwed his eyes shut, trying to zero in on the emotions you were radiating. 

“This is what?” Steve stood in front of the mirror under the clock, adjusting the collar of the vest and raking a hand through his hair.

Eddie’s eyes snapped open, tip of his tongue resting between his lips.  He sprang behind Steve on his way to the door, clapping him on the shoulder.  “It’s showtime.”

-----

thank you so much for reading xoxox

------

Taglist: @trixyvixx@sllooney@writinginthetwilight@sidthedollface2@atomickaratel8dy @probablyin-bed @kiyastrf94@briamunson92 @joannamuns9n @jasminelafleur @@bellalillyrose @dashingdeb16 @alba8688 @corrodeddeadlydoll@brassreign@likedovesinthewnd @ilovetaquitosmmm @skrzydlak@onegirlmanytales@angietherose@probablyin-bed@reidsbtch@moonbeamsandmayhem@eddiesxangel@hideoutside@secretdryrose@nailbatanddungeon@thorfemmes@corkadymu@kellsck@mrsjellymunson@poofyloofy @dream-a-little-nightmare

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson series #Death Becomes Us #vampire Eddie #vampire!eddie #Steve Harrington #werewolf steve #Jamie Campbell Bower #true blood au #vampire au #Spotify

[broomsick]

Self-care & connecting with nature deities during the wintertime

Is it still possible to connect with harvest and nature deities such as Freyr during the cold season?

Long answer short, yes. Obviously, absolutely. But you all saw that answer coming, right? So I’m here to give you some ideas, as the person who’s favorite season is winter and who made it their mission to help everybody like winter just a little more. And since I feel especially close to Yngvi-Freyr when it comes to the Gods, I will use him as an example throughout this post, though a lot of the following could apply to most nature deities.

Let us first examine a common misconception before we get to the bottom of this topic: the fields don’t die when the sun sets on the 31st of October. The earth still lives under thick layers of snow. The process of dormancy is absolutely crucial to the cycles of nature. And if, like me, you find Freyr to be a sort of guardian of these cycles, then you’ll know he manifests himself in so many ways, even where you might not think to look.

Have you heard about the holly and ivy tradition? It was common during the European Medieval times to decorate houses and halls using holly and ivy, because they were the two plants with leaves that stayed green, even in the dark and cold of winter. This type of practice is often referred to as "bringing the outside in", and it's something I'm quite fond of. I've no doubt it could be a great help if you're the type to feel depressed during the winter time. It's a way to remind oneself of how everpresent nature actually is. Lots of greenery remains despite the snow! And to ackowledge this fact and to work with it is such a great way to connect with nature Gods in general! It goes to show that you appreciate their blessings all year round, not just during spring and summer. While it's true that in many cases, the presence of deities such as Freyr may feel somehow "dimmed" during the winter time, I assure you, they don't disappear once the first snow falls! On the contrary, they are every bit as present and active as when spring comes! They simply manifest themselves in a different manner.

When winter comes, I love to work with evergreen spirits. I incorporate spruce, fir and cedar into my practice and in my offerings. I won't go into too much detail for this topic however, because I've written posts that pertained to it in the past (namely, this post on tree work and this one on land spirits). Since I don't have easy access to holly or ivy, I make due with evergreen! Not with any actual branches, except when I'm lucky enough to find some that were torn away by the wind. But rather, using representations of it. In the same manner, and in the spirit of "bringing the outside in", it's also possible to decorate using representations of the sun! Harvest deities such as Freyr are often associated with it due to its crucial role in the cycles of plant growth. Candles also make for great solar symbols, and to place them around the home is like lighting a handful of little suns to bring much needed light and warmth inside. What's more, lighting candles on the winter solstice night is a widespread practice among pagans today! It serves to symbolize the return of the sun, as the days start to grow longer again. Until then however, it can be soothing for one to light a candle every morning before school or work, and to call upon any harvest, nature or solar deity of their choice to ask for strength and motivation throught the day. Even when it's difficult for us to feel their presence, they always hear us.

Now, how to actually feel more connected to nature? Oftentimes, connecting with nature and connecting with Yngvi-Freyr are one and the same. And on a more personal note, a lot of the advice I received from him pertained exactly to that: I believe he's often urged me to go spend more time in nature when I am going through rough patches. I know the cold and the cloudy weather can make it depressing for a lot of people to go out. My advice on this is to take it step by step: no need to go on long, four-hour long hikes right away! After all, there is already much beauty to be seen close to home. And I can't put enough emphasis on that: dress warmly! Also, as a tool for motivation, prepare a treat for yourself to enjoy after you've gone out. Part of what makes me enjoy winter so much is the thought of the warmth and light which await inside after I’ve gone out into the cold. The home is as sacred as the outside world! So why not buy, or prepare a batch of cookies, a cup of hot chocolate or a spicy dinner! It's something I love to do as a way to motivate myself to go out more often. And I like to offer part of these to local land spirits and to the Vanir, to show my appreciation for the beauty of this season. Just as an aside, I find snow water to be a great such offering as well!

I know that I’m not revolutionizing the pagan scene with this post, as there’s only so many ways to connect with nature during winter. I think it’s important to keep in mind that the snow, rain and cold that this season brings is just as much part of nature as the greens and lively colors of spring and summer. For this reason, they are just as much a part of nature deities and what they represent. Deities have so many facets and depth, and it can be so fulfilling to explore these different aspects, and the way we perceive them. While it’s true that spiritually speaking, it often feels to us heathens as if Skaði is somehow “taking” Freyr’s place in the order of things for the time being— much like the Holly King takes the Oak King’s place in Celtic folklore. This doesn’t make it so he disappears! In my experience, he presides over the cycle of seasons as a whole, and he is every bit as present for his followers as he is during the winter. I can connect with Skaði during the summer in a similar manner. And I’m sure that the same can be said for so many other harvest deities.

#my ideas #yule #winter solstice #paganism #witchcraft #pagan #norse paganism #polytheism #rituals #heathenry #norse polytheism #deity work #norse gods #spirituality #deities

[mythmakinvgxz]

tipsy / matias recalt

summary: matias is drunk and won’t get to bed.

tw: smut (fingering / f!receiver)

words count: 1.5k

author’s note: sorry this is kinda short but its my first time writing smut

“matias, let's go to sleep. you can barely keep your eyes open.”

like almost every evening after the end of filming, the whole cast gathered to relax after a busy day, and this time she had offered to host everyone at her house. the evening was quiet, she had bought something to drink and all the guests were currently on the balcony chatting and laughing. their voices reached the living room, where they were, muffled. she had remained there, without joining the others, to help matias who, given that he had been drinking quite a bit, was quite tipsy and was about to fall asleep on the sofa.

he raised an arm in her direction as if to push those words out of the air "what are you talking about, i swear i'm wide awake." he mumbled, his eyes half closed. “mati, come on.” sighing, she took his hand to at least get him off the couch. but he wouldn't hear of it and he refused to move, leaving him lying where he was. there was nothing else that could be done to convince him to go to sleep, but maybe…

she lowered herself to her knees, so that her face was at the same height as her boyfriend's, and whispering softly in his ear she said "if you don't come to bed now, i won't sleep with you tonight." she told him in a warm and mischievous voice, and in front of that threat, matias couldn't do anything but get up suddenly from the sofa, unable to refuse that offer. he took her by the hand, excited due to the alcohol, and without looking back he walked down the narrow corridor that led to his girlfriend's room.

after she told him this, he immediately changed his mind, happy to be able to spend another night with her. as soon as they entered the small dark room, lit only by the light coming from the street, matias, after closing the door, staggered towards the bed, where he fell, causing all the springs to creak.

“mati, be quiet!” she said softly, so as not to make a mess and alarm the others who were right next to them: the window of her room looked directly onto the balcony.

she walked over to the bed and said “let’s get you to bed, a’ight?” matias nodded in response with his eyes closed. she started at him for a while waiting for him to get ready to go to bed. “mati you need to take your clothes off, i'm not getting you in my bed with this filthy shirt.” “my shirt is not filthy!” he answered in an offended tone. “it literally smells like smoke and alcohol, mati.” she said, moving closer to him to smell what he was wearing, making a disgusted face.

"okay okay. but can you help me?” matias asked in a soft tone, like he was embarrassed to ask such thing "all right." she replied, positioning herself between his legs to begin taking off his shirt. as soon as her cold fingers touched his boyfriend's skin, he hissed at that sudden contact, but recovered immediately as soon as she took off his shirt. letting the collar over his head, it ruffled his hair, which was now a mess. she laughed at the sight as she reached down to take off his pants as well. as soon as those were removed too, he fell onto his back on the bed, sighing.

“i’ll be back in a while to see how you’re doing, okay?” she asked while opening the door, ready to get out and enjoy the night with her friends.

"where are you going?" he asked in alarm, suddenly getting up from the bed and reaching her at the edge of the door. his voice was worried. “i'm going to join the others, i'll be back soon, mati.”

“please stay with me.” the boy took her hand in his, looking into her eyes, begging her to stay with him and not go anywhere else. she looked at him for an answer, but in his eyes she only found a plea not to leave him alone.

“alright.” in the end she accepted, closing the door slowly behind her, trying not to create any suspicion among the guests. she went to her closet, and in the dim light looked for her pajamas. “come here, i'll help you.” his hand took her waist and brought her closer to the bed. the boy sat down on her blankets, finding herself standing between his legs. his hands slowly caressed her hips under her dress and, taking the fabric, began to remove it. he took his time, gently caressing her body as if it were glass. at that contact she shivered but let go when matias' warm hands reached her hips, once her dress had been removed.

the atmosphere shifted quickly when the boy, patting on his lap, told her “come, sit.” she obeyed immediately, sitting on his legs, trembling. it was as if the effect of the alcohol had worn off and matias had returned to normal. he was now ready to make her feel good, as he always had done. he began with an innocent kiss on her temple, moving down to the corners of her mouth, her neck, her chest. she could feel her skin burn under his touch.

“mati…” she said softly, lost in his touch“you have to go to sleep, you're too drunk.” she told him trying to ignore the warm feeling that was slowly making its way inside her. he mumbled under his breath, tracing kisses along her jaw. “c’mon.” she got up rejecting that feeling and regaining clarity.

when they finally got under the covers she faced the wall, trying to sleep and to ignore the pulsing sensation between her legs. he barely touched her and she was already a mess.

she felt matias turning over in the bed, looking for the perfect position to sleep, which ultimately turned out to be the spoon. his body was tightly attached to hers, and one of his hands found its way around her waist, squeezing it. she could feel his hot breath against her ear, and sighed in release.

he murmured, feeling her relax at his touch and his hand began to wander cautiously on her skin. when she felt his fingers approaching her panties, she knew what was about to happen. she held her breath, waiting for him to act. and when his hand slipped inside, she let out a gasp. “what, bebè?”

she wanted to answer, but she just couldn’t, with the chaos of emotion she was feeling, all at once. instead, she let out a soft moan as his fingers barely touched her folds. he began to trace soft kisses on her shoulder, she could feel the cold of his earring behind her neck.

when suddenly one of his fingers entered her, she gasped out loud “shhh, they’re gonna hear us.” matias said in a whisper, while his finger moved in and out of her. "or worse, see us." she bit her lower lip, trying to stay quiet and stifle a moan that almost escaped her mouth.

matias' finger then moved at a faster pace, outside and inside her. when his fingers became two she felt like she couldn't hold on any longer and began to tremble slowly, while he praised her. "you're being so good, my good girl, right?" he whispered in her ear and waited for an answer that never came, so he repeated "right?" trying to catch her breath, between moans she replied "y-yes..."

"that's right." he said in a husky voice, making her shiver. her moans along with his breathing echoed through the room, and the sounds he was making slipping his fingers in and out her entrance were obscene. his other hand reached one of her breasts, groping it and began to squize her nipple.

she couldn't take it anymore, feeling a liquid sensation growing inside her and when matias' fingers curled slightly, she let out a loud moan. “do you want everyone to hear how good i’m making you feel?” he dared, biting her ear softly. those dirty words did nothing but excite her more, just at the thought of being seen.

matias' fingers were now going in and out of her entrance at an embarrassing speed, causing her legs to tremble. the feeling in her womb deepened as his tired voice continued to speak in her ear "you're so good, just for me. mi mami." those words sent her out and, whimpering, she felt her liquids leaking out and soaking matias' fingers. closing her eyes, she tried to catch her breath as she mumbled dumb his name over and over again, suffering from the orgasm.

"you did so good, baby." he praised her, as they faced each other. he wiped a tear from her eye, kissing it softly, and gifting her a smile.

their lips finally met, crushing in a passionate smile as their tongues intertwined and matias groaned softly in her mouth. as they parted she said "you still smells like alcohol, mati." placing a hand on his bare chest.

"you didn't seem to mind it before." he replied, winking.

#matias recalt fic #matias recalt fanfic #matias recalt x you #matias recalt x reader #matias recalt smut #matias recalt #lsdln #lsdln fic #lsdln cast

[fhrlclln]

con la brisa | k’uk’ulkan/namor

SUMMARY -> out of your own curiosity discovering the unique entrance of the underwater cave had you finding more than you expected while vacationing. the god is intrigued to say.

k’uk’ulkan/namor x fem! reader

masterlist (to be added)

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> bpwf spoilers, meet-cute scenario, a lil slowburn, namor is a lil’ bit cold at first & smut as usual (p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex; both!receiving & fingering)

WC -> 7,876

a/n: after watching wakanda forever had me bawling like so much. and so, okay, i know this isn’t my usual writing but i fell in love with the song con la brisa and namor cuz aquapapi. and i thought i’d write a long fic just for him. lIKE THE VISUALS OF THE SCENE IN TALOKAN AND THE SONG!?!?!?!? absolutely amazing and captivating and there’s namor. 😫 but anyways… enjoy my namor smut ig. and happy holidays everyone <3

TRANSLATIONS: YUCATEC MAYA -> máak lu'um - surface dweller/land person, ki'ichpanech - pretty girl, le paalo’ - child , je’el - yes, dejaremos ti' le destino decida - we will let fate decide, in na'atik - i understand, ba'ax úuch - what happened?, jach asab u jump'éel siibal - it is more than a gift, ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga - and i don’t want it stop, in ts'íiboltikech - i want you, ma'alob - good, ko'ox - let us go, in yakunaj - my love, jats'uts - beautiful, t'aan - speak, táan jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen? - it is so wet, all for me? mierda - shit, perfecto - perfect, jach jats'uts yáanal tin - so beautiful under me

likes, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

it’s quiet.

only the sound of the waves and the sound of the cool breeze hitting your ears envelops your senses. your body is floating above the water, sun hitting your face, eyes closed and relaxed as you let yourself float amongst depths of the sea. the water is cool against your skin, the scent of salt hits your nostrils mixing in with the freshness of the air. heaven is all you can describe at such serene calmness the water offers you this day.

as beautiful the secluded beaches are here in yucatan. you knew better to be not trespassing here. and as stupid it was to swim near night falling, the rays of the sun had turned orange among the horizon of the beautiful ocean. you knew it was time to get back to your hotel you currently resided. but here you are, water still glistening your salty skin, shorts concealing your bottom and your top the bikini you wore still damp as ever. the sun was setting, the trees swayed as you headed back to the direction of where you came from. wary of a chill on your spine erupt as if you felt like you were not alone in the secluded beach.

but as always, fate seemed to spin you to get lost in the woods.

shit. you think to yourself, the unfamiliar path dawning over to you as you sighed to yourself, trees all over your view. you knew the area well enough for the past few days and now was the time you would get lost? unbelievable. you bit your lip, trusting your gut to go further, night already taking over the once pristine blue sky. better to walk and let faith guide you to a road than to stay amongst the wild animals and insects inside the forest. you could say you’ve done one of the stupidest tourist shit you vowed not to do.

the cicadas faintly started to get louder as the darkness took over the forest. you grabbed your phone, turning on the flashlight as the leaves scrunched underneath your feet. the bushes seemed to grow larger as you gently passed by them with your arm shoving them away. expecting the familiar highway to come in view.

but you stopped, the path had ended as you were face to face with a cave of some sort. your eyes sparkled in the dark, suddenly intrigued with this new location you found. a hidden gem in these parts. you cautiously stepped closer to it, feeling as if you’ve entered someone’s territory. you lick your lips, shutting the flashlight of your phone as moonlight filled the area perfectly.

“water?” you mumbled to yourself, bending down to see the small cave was filled with water. “of course it is, dumbass.” you rolled your eyes to yourself, letting your hand touch the cool water.

it rippled beneath your fingertips as you glided your hand to feel the temperature, the scent of sea salt again fill your senses, your curiosity getting the best of you. you noticed how the deep the pool of water was, noting it might be an entrance to a underwater cave of some sort, you guessed. but you needed to go back, remembering the hotel waiting for you.

you looked around once more, guessing that this has been around here for a long time. you smiled, proud to say you would dive in here if you got the chance and the gear to do it. you stood up, brushing yourself from the dirt that sticked to your knees. you turned back and headed to the bushes again, to find another path. for a moment, you adjusted the bag you were carrying, your phone in your hand suddenly slipped from your grasp, hitting the ground with a thud. you cursed yourself for your clumsiness, bending down to grab it. the water in the cave suddenly splashing catching your attention warily.

you froze, slowly standing up, clutching your phone tight as you watch a figure came from the dark depths of the cave. the water splashed around as your heart thump loudly. seeing as a manly figure came in your sight despite the darkness. warnings in your mind erupted, remembering what you had heard of recently.

the man from the sea. a ancient god.

you distinctly remembered the words of the locals and the village elders about a man walking along the shores, feet with wings they had said. their ‘god’ walking amongst them. you don’t know much, but you feared this legend and the god as so did the people here. anything was possible nowadays. but you remained silent, studying his figure as he emerged into the moonlight. stepping in to your view, golden jewelry adorned his neck, he wore only green shorts and other accessories from his wrist to his legs. his feet, however, caught your interest seeing wings adorn them. and ears flourished with a jade like square earrings. he brushes his wet hair back, chest rising as he breathes in the air, his dark eyes finally gazed to yours.

oh, fuck.

you clutched your bag tight against your body, a shiver ran down your spine as his gaze pierced through you. you’ve trespassed. your mind shouts, your heart thumping louder.

“i’m sorry for i-intruding.” you speak up, careful for your tone to be calm and respectful. gears in your mind clicking, his face yet did not react whatsoever other than he steps forward, making you step back cautiously. he seems to notice it, sensing your own fear as he minds himself, creating a presence you knew not to anger. as stoic his expression was, his eyes seem to tell otherwise.

dangerous.

“you’re not from here.” he speaks, breaking your daze when you stare at his face. cold yet curious his tone was. knowingly now you think he’s attractive the more you study him. thoughts then circling how he just came from an underwater cave and ankles with wings on them.

“i’m not…” you nodded, gulping. “i got lost and stumbled here. n-no other intention.” you added, sensing him that he expected another answer.

“no?” he questions, stepping forward again, closer to you, making you freeze on the spot. you breathed out shakily, gazing his eyes that hold a predatory look. he towered over you, intimidating you further.

“no…” you softly said, the atmosphere almost changing, not once did you leave his gaze. a fire in the man’s gaze fueling him elsewhere.

the god stared down at this surface dweller, he hummed, trusting your answer, yet still skeptical. you were not like the other surface dwellers that he encountered coming into the entrance of the cave. you looked innocent enough, a foreigner of the area, a tourist you are. he shifts his gaze to your eyes and to your lips that softly spoke those words of reassurance. he notices your hands tremble, the cold of the night he presumed was getting to you or the fear of him. he’ll let you go, he thinks, merciful enough. the disturbance of the water merely caught his attention, he swam to it, ensuring that his nation would not be discovered.

“who are you?” you asked, astonished now for a man who’s ears you noticed are pointed. the fear slowly washing away. namor was intrigued to say, a curious thing you are.

“i have many names.” he spoke quietly, accent sharpening his words, a wonderful one you deemed as you listened to him. “my people call me k’uk’ulkan.” he gauges your face, seeing it full of wonder.

“but my enemies call me namor.” he finishes darkly, a threat. a warning set in stone. many would have run from him by now but you intrigued him further.

“namor.” you tested the name on your lips. the god felt himself shift in his place, seeing as you turn from his gaze, something stirring inside him after you uttered his name so softly.

“and you are?” he now asks, formalities thrown as you met his gaze again.

“y/n.” you uttered your name as the chill of the night shivered you so. he also tests your name in his tongue, accent enveloping each syllable smoothly with a crisp ending.

“roaming around the outskirts of the village is dangerous, máak lu'um. what has brought you here?” he speaks further, a word so unfamiliar to you. not spanish or what, which fuels your desire to learn him now.

“just took a swim by the beach.” you answered with a shrug. “it’s beautiful out the atlantic ocean.” you added as he hums, nodding.

“you’re not from here as well, are you?” you suddenly ask. he doesn’t look like the locals in the area. his outfit is as different from modern clothing, which in his case is very minimal. he cocks his head to the side as you looked back to the underwater cave. he is taken aback at your forwardness but contemplates whether he should tell you but he only offers a simple answer to your curious mind.

“yes.”

“interesting.” you quipped, examining his peculiar jewelry then to his chest, which catches you off guard how well built he is. tan pecks glistening with water, a fluttery feeling in your stomach making you feel a little flustered for checking him out shamelessly. 

“you live there, i presume?” you ask, pointing to the cave. he seems to still, eyebrows tensing as you notice how defensive he is. “not that you need to answer…” you offered weakly, a little scared now.

“mhm.” he grunts, stepping pass you, not answering the question, leaving off a cold aura. he needed you away from here as soon as possible, remembering his intentions from the first place when you disturbed the waters of the entrance.

“come, it is getting late. let me escort you out, ki'ichpanech.“ pretty girl. he offers his arm out, muscle bulging out. you seem to be too trusting as you complied with the strange man with wings on his feet. not knowing how dangerous he can be, a man that has lived for more than a century, a god to his people and a king of a nation sealed from the whole world beneath the depths of the sea.

he is the feathered-serpent god.

“thank you.” you took his arm, walking beside him, arm resting with his making your heart thump. he was warm for a man who just swam in a deep underwater cavern. he smelled like the ocean itself, which was not that unpleasant, you stare at him for a time as you two walked along the woods. leaves scrunching both of your feet.

namor, on his behalf, didn’t expect he’d be talking with a surface dweller for this long nor offering to escort you out the forest. he despised all things that came from the surface world, a land that he swore to himself to hate to the bones. yet now, you who peaked his interest made his usual thinking sputter.

innocent, curious, soft, kind…all things he doesn’t expect. the feel of your skin to his fueled his desire further as he tried to suppress it. noting the way his cock twitch when your fingers brushed against his hot skin.

“are you not cold? it’s so cold out here.” you shivered, unintentionally pressing against him for warmth.

“it is…tolerable, ki'ichpanech.” he amusingly says, watching as your other arm hugged your waist for warmth. your bikini covered breasts pushing up by your arm making him swallow a lump as he looks ahead. intriguing.

“what does that mean?” you ask, glaring at him with a pout.

“ki'ichpanech?” the ancient language rolls on his tongue flawlessly.

“yes.” you looked back to him seeing as the familiar sounds of faint chatter filled your ears. the village must be close.

“a compliment, le paalo’.” he simply explains. “one for you to find out for yourself.” he smirks, making you sigh beside him.

only silence fills the void between you two, an unspoken comfort that had the man beside you wonders how calm you are. being escorted by a man who you just met. he wonders how your pretty little mind works

“you said you have many names.” you started. “what do you prefer to be called?”

“it is up to you what you wish to call me.”

“k’uk’ulkan then?” you uttered, wishing you didn’t butcher the pronunciation. “you said your people call you by that.”

“je’el.” he agrees, which you take it as a yes. a silence transpired again, but it doesn’t take long before your own curiosity gets the best of you. asking him questions now out of the blue, all subjects leading how he swam inside of a underwater cave without any gear and the most asked about his ankles with wings.

namor seemed to tolerate your mind, offering vague answers and none about questions where he resided or came from. he offers you to teach the mayan words he answers along the way, resulting you to ask him if he always knew how to speak english fluently. in return, he asks you as well. you gladly tell him about vacationing alone in mexico, saying that you needed some time away from the work you had back home. and that you just wanted a moment of peace to yourself here by the beaches. exploring, learning about the locals and their culture respectfully.

but in all fashion, it had to end.

which broke your heart slightly when the sound of the locals grew louder. lights from their village enveloping your view as you two arrive in a secluded area wherein the familiar dirt road is.

“you are a strange woman with curious questions.” he begins as you step out of the bushes, facing him with a slight frown.

“says the man who has wings on his feet.” you quip back playfully. he smirks at that, eyes alert as he looks back to see the locals. your heart thumps, wishing for him to come with you. but in his eyes you knew it wasn’t possible even if he didn’t necessarily say it out loud. you just knew.

“speak of this to no one, ki’ichpanech.” he utters, you nodded at this. the situation weird enough for you to obey.

“will i see you again?” you ask gently, hope in your tone. namor feels something stir inside him as he licks his lips, stepping forward as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it softly. soft delicate skin. he thinks, a fire set alight to the both of you as his piercing gaze never faltered as your chest rose at the sudden electric feeling.

the hand kiss was a gesture of his growing affection towards you which he fears may not stop. you should be cowering away from him, a man who’s hands are stained with blood for hundreds of years. he shouldn’t even be talking with a surface dweller at all and you shouldn’t see him again, but…

“dejaremos ti' le destino decida.” he only offers those unfamiliar words to you with sincerity. you drew your hand back, not asking anything further as he steps back into the forest, eyes still looking into yours. a series of laughter interrupts the two of you as you look away from for a moment seeing the villagers laughing amongst themselves. you look back to the bushes, only to find that he’s gone.

huh.

you only stood quiet, the scent of sea salt lingering, his warmth you realized you missed. the night grew colder as you think to yourself with a cheeky thought in mind.

you’ll meet him again.

•••

and you did.

countless of times now after a couple of days had passed. the next morning of that faithful night lead you to go back to the same spot you met him, toying with the water, disturbing it when he was already behind you at that time. in which namor wouldn’t say he has been keeping an eye on you whenever you visited the beach again. you were thrilled, greeting him with your smile. he seemed a bit reluctant meeting you again, telling you that you should not be talking with him. you countered back, asking why then he appears before you when he could’ve ignored her. he smiles at that, offering you a chuckle for the first time. his smile catching you off-guard.

“you intrigue me so, ki'ichpanech.” he would say as you two walk along the shores, talking, asking more about him. he tells stories you never had heard of, legends and so.

“you like it.” you’d tease with a grin. he doesn’t affirm but he does agree in the inside.

your growing friendship with the god only grew larger when the days passed and each day he reminded you to never speak about this strange relation you had with him. you only had weeks left before going back home. a month vacation in yucatán was slowly nearing it’s end and you feared you may not get to see your mysterious friend ever again. you had to cherish the weeks left in counting.

and the subtle attraction you were feeling was growing larger.

he showed you the vast hidden wonders the beach hid as he took you for a swim. the corals, the tide pools, even in the deepest parts of the sea. it was so fascinating to you to see him swim so freely, like it was just a normal thing for him. you had already known that he is not human from the first time you met him. further, he only describes himself as a mutant, the story of his mother and how the first of his people came to be. the talokanil.

“my mother mourned to return to the land wherein she once lived.” he speaks, the waves crashing, you two sitting beside each other on the soft white sands of the shore. watching the sunset over the horizon, a beautiful sight to always see. intimate it felt.

“she was human you had said?”

“je’el. she made me a promise to bury her in the soil of her homeland.” you watch carefully how his eyes catch a glimpse of longing. “but nothing could prepare me for what i found.”

a chill ran down your spine seeing his expression drop into the most chilling hatred you could ever seen from a man. the slavery, those spanish men, the corruption of colonialism that had fallen amongst the surface world. wars broke out, diseases everywhere, more and more tragedies you guessed he would have witnessed for living for 500 years. you were somewhat touch to know how he’s opened up to this, to you.

“there’s nothing that would change how us humans would still be.” you began, sympathizing with him and knowing his hatred for the surface world. “humans are greedy. power is their desire, their lust. the world up here is fucked up.” you chuckled airily, staring off to the ocean.

“you seem to harbor the same resentment to your own world, ki'ichpanech.” he says as you shrugged at it.

“the world is too corrupted nowadays.” you rolled your eyes. “work is work, you work then you die. money is in my head always back home. so yeah, i do hate it up here.”

“you desire to be elsewhere? is it why you are here with me?” he grins as you scoffed at him even though it was true as the blush evident on your face was enough evidence. he has been shamelessly kinda flirting with you over the past days—

…you like him, a lot. it was no surprise you had catch feelings for the man. you learned he is kind and somewhat warm underneath the defensive and cold exterior he had put up when you two first met. he longed for his nation to be free from the terrors of waiting for anyone who’d try to discover them.

“you were a nice surprise to me.” you smiled gently. “but yes, it’s a nice escape here out from the city. even though i hate it here, it quite beautiful to live in.”

“in na'atik.” he hums, intrigued to say how one surface dweller could speak so ill about their own home. his resentment towards the surface world was still growing in him. humans are greedy like you had said, but you, out of all the surface dwellers that had tried to come near him or his nation, you merely just stood before him that night. astonished at him, wonders in your colored irises that held a compassionate understanding for him. he feels his chest swell and throat constrict. that same mushy and fluttery feeling that arose to heat his cheeks and the tip of his ears. overwhelming yet so addicting to feel.

what were you doing with him?

namor only watches you as you stare off to the ocean. he wants to picture this moment in his mind, a mural he now wants to paint for you. a story for you, your curious questions about him and your smile that was like the most beautiful pearls of talokan. he doesn’t want to admit it, nor shall he want to think about it now. dangerous it can be, he only hopes that this would last quicker for the sake of both of your hearts. and for his purposely knowing all would might end in tragedy if he is to act on this.

but he is wrong.

•••

another set of days had passed and tomorrow, that you dreaded, you’ll be going back home. it seemed like time had passed by faster than you expected. you stand alone again by the beach, this time a mesh white scarf wrapped around your arms as you take in the sea breeze again, savoring the moment. namor had wanted to see you again as usual, you knew he was either walking along the shore or might emerge from the sea, waiting for you.

but now he was walking towards you, expecting your bright greeting yet he only found you staring at the horizon again.

“ki'ichpanech?” he starts, softly calling for you. the waves crashes again as your sundress swayed with wind. you met his gaze, snapping out of your thoughts as you composed yourself before the god.

“k’uk’ulkan.” you face him, a little surprised but you smiled at him still. namor watches your serene smile do not go up your eyes. he knows already, you could tell. he always could tell how you were feeling.

“ba'ax úuch?” he asks, enough for you to understand as he stands in-front of you, softening his gaze as you glanced back to the sea, sighing deeply.

“i’m leaving tomorrow.” you finally said, seeing as his expression still as those words he dreaded as well came from your mouth. it’s too soon, he had plans to—

“tomorrow?”

“in the morning.” you confirmed, your heart breaking seeing his stoic expression falter. “to be honest, i don’t want to go.”

“then don’t.” he says, every patience in his body wearing just for him to spew out anything for you to not leave. all his walls he build up for the first time for you already was gone, he accepted it that he wanted you by his side even if you don’t know fully of his true feelings. he had to at least say something before this could all end.

“i can’t.” you shakily said, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you. you didn’t want to leave this place, you didn’t want to leave him yet. “besides, whether i like it or not, i’ll be forced back home.”

you gripped the chiffon scarf, knuckles baring white as namor didn’t know what else to say. every signal in his mind told him many ways he could make you stay but he knows either way you’d be gone. and that this whole relationship you have with him is going to end even if it just had started.

“come with me.” he finally lets it out as he grabs your hand to his. “i wanted to show you something.”

“you have a gift for me?” you teased as his fingers interlocked with yours. he merely chuckles making your heart thump, alongside the feel of his calloused warm hand fits perfectly to yours. you know there’s this silent crave, a want between you two. you never acted this strange tension with him. you always thought he only tolerates you at how adamant you are seeing him, but now… you’re not sure.

“jach asab u jump'éel siibal.” he says, guiding you back to the forest, the familiar path to the underwater cave. “i want you to see a glimpse of my home.”

“k’uk’ulkan.” you scolded, brows knitting as you followed him, letting him guide you. “you had said that your nation is something to be kept away from the surface world. i am apart of that.”

“it is not necessarily talokan yet, ki'ichpanech.” he counters as you two step to see the familiar structure. he ushers you to stand by him in the pool of water but you stop,.

“i don’t want to risk this.” you argued, seeing as he contemplated at that. he was holding back something he’s been harboring, you sighed as you step back, hand letting go of his as he stands in the water. a feeling of deja vu erupted inside you. he looked absolutely the same the night you met him. just that his defensive posture were now soft and relaxed as he gently smiles at you.

“one last night, ki’ichpanech.” namor held his hand out again. “and we will forget all of this in the morning and continue on with our separate lives.”

“but that’s not all, is it?”

namor tenses, he doesn’t really know if a tinge of fear had finally come to him. you can see pass through him, every knit of his brow or clench on his jaw. and he can see you hesitate— you want this, he can tell. every grip of your mesh scarf, the furrow of your brows, the sadness and eagerness in your eyes. you awaited for an answer as he nods.

“come with me.” he steps closer, water splashing, moonlight dawning over you two. “you had said you hated to go back to your home then stay. stay with me.”

he gently brought your hand to his chest as he stared into your eyes. like a trance he is how serene you are underneath the moonlight. your face softening with realization that he’s asking you to live with him. to stay by him forever. you could feel the thump of his heart underneath his skin, he intimately pressed his forehead against yours, never leaving your sight. you didn’t know what to say but just let him continue.

“this does not happen so often. and i fear it will never stop. ka ma' in k'áat ka u detenga.” he whispers, lips brushing against yours, he is holding himself back not to rapture you here and now. sparks flew when you felt it, his other hand situated on your hip. a raw sensation you had now felt for him.

“what about my own life here?”

“i am not so cruel to not give you a choice, ki’ichpanech. but yes, i cannot risk you going back home for my nation if you were to choose to come with me.” you nodded at his words, understanding him. and now you gambled with the possibilities as namor waited patiently for your answer. your mind gambled with the possibilities, you’d leave everything behind.

“and if i chose to leave now?”

“then we will part ways and forget all of this.” he offers a small smile, concealing the pang in his chest.

“why me?” you quietly asked, the words he offered sinking in your mind.

“is it not obvious?” his nose brushed against the tip of yours, heat in his tone. “in ts'íiboltikech.”

a shuddery breath exhales through your lips. his warmth and his closeness should have been the answers but you could not imagine for a god— someone who’s deemed as a god to be wanting you. namor’s patience was wearing thin, if you chose to leave, he’ll gladly accept that, but he somehow hopes for the other one. your eyes shined, his heart thumped as your lips opened—

“in ts'íiboltikech.” you repeated his words as his irises darken, a grin forming as he gladly pulled you closer to him, the cool water splashing around the two of you. the cicadas quieting down, two hearts beating as one.

“ma'alob.” he whispers darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. those words of confirmation had him surging to capture your lips to his. he waited long enough, every night, every morning he thought of you. you were a plague in his mind, corrupting him to think of the most sinful things and the ones he yearned in his own thoughts.

and your lips were sweet, sweeter than the fruits he ever tasted in his life, and he wonders in the back of his mind if your cunt would taste sweeter. making his cock twitch at the thought.

you let out a tiny gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, the chiffon scarf dropping to the ground. the built up tension between the two of you finally at it’s peak, sizzling down as he moved his lips slowly on yours. slow and passionate, wanting to savor it. your cheeks bloomed with heat when you felt the outline of his prick press against your stomach, hard and hot. catching you by surprised at how particularly needy he felt. but you were as well, absently rubbing your thighs against each other.

he pulls away, breathless making let out a tiny whine. “ko'ox.” he smirks, guiding you deeper in the water, your sundress getting wet but you didn’t care about that. only focused on the man who gently puts something on your face. you look at him questionably, he was holding up a mask of something.

“the dive is deep.” he explains, as he locks the mask in, ushering you gently with adoration in his eyes as you inhaled deeply, following his command.

“breathe, in yakunaj.”

•••

“amazing.” you uttered, staring up to the ceiling of the cave. glowworms were hanging by the stalactites. it emitted this soft blue hue while the sound of the waters of the cave joined in the beautiful scenery. your heart bloomed, you could almost forget about your own home by now. but a tinge of hesitance caused you to overthink this. was it right to leave everything behind? you questioned yourself, standing by the edge, close to the water.

how quick you are to throw everything away.

you bit your bottom lip, nervous you are, wondering if anyone back at the place you called home would question where you are in the following days— months even. you sighed to yourself, pushing it all away in the very back of your mind. you’d worry about that in a more appropriate time. but now here you are, feeling flushed remembering his lips, all thoughts away but just him.

“jats'uts.” his voice echoed, you jumped a bit in surprise as you turned to face him. the beads on your dress rattled, your cheeks glowed as namor went beside you. his eyes draped along your body, the traditional dress he provided for you after your sundress had been absolutely damped was an exquisite sight before him.

“beautiful.” he translated, dark eyes meeting yours. he steps closer, seeing your small shy smile. “the dress suits you so.” he grins.

“thank you for this.” you gestured to the beautiful dress, letting yourself be drawn in his beady orbs as you neared him, letting his hand slip to yours again.

“has this place always been your sanctuary?” you quietly asked as you two walked towards the hut he showed you a while ago that was filled with his murals. you were amazed to see how he had depicted his and his people lives on the wall by the stroke of his brush. the story of how the first talokanil came to be and so fort.

“yes. a place where i can be in solitude.” he nods and leads you inside, never leaving your side.

“and from here, talokan is just down below?” you looked around the room, stopping to admire the big mural on the wall.

“deep below, ki'ichpanech.” he responds, standing beside you, holding something in his hand. your eyes caught the glimpse of a beautiful ornament.

“this is beautiful.” you blurt out, looking to him for approval to touch it as he merely smiled.

“it was my mother’s.” he explains as you touched the beads gently, admiring how pretty it is.

“you said it was made for her before she turned talokanil?” namor nodded, liking the way you remembered his stories.

“as my first gift, i want you to have this.” he grasps your wrists making your heart burst. “a token for my affection.”

“you’ve given me enough. i feel like i should give you something in return.” you pouted as he ties the bracelet on your wrist, ignoring your furrowed look as he kisses you softly before you could protest more. you hummed between his lips, shutting up quickly as you eagerly reciprocated.

“it is not enough.” he says, squeezing the side of your waist. “you’ve already given something in return, in yakunaj. your presence here in my home is enough.” 

“but—“

his lips descended down to kiss your jaw, peppering down to your neck. inhaling your scent as he nips at your neck. pressing you harder against him, bulge brushing again on your stomach as you craned your neck to feel him sigh blissfully before he sucked and nipped, intent to make you feel mushy in his arms.

“k’uk’ulkan.” you whined as he chuckles.

“your body reacts so eagerly.” he whispers. “have you been waiting for me to touch you like this, ki’ichpanech?” you couldn’t respond but nod lightly, the warmth of his overwhelming. your lips are sealed from embarrassment how right he is. the scruff of his beard tickles you so as he bites a bit harder making you grip his shawl. the only item of clothing you noticed he wore after countless times you had seen him in those green shorts.

“t'aan.” he commands, hands descending down to grasp your ass harshly. you squealed as he hoists you up, legs automatically wrapping around his waist. hands on his broad shoulders as he guides both of you to the bed in his hut. your back hitting the bed, him towering over you. you could see the feral look in his eyes as you can’t help but obey him.

“je’el.” you whimpered as he slants his mouth to yours again, eating you up. he can’t help but smile at how his language rolls off your lips, his mayan lessons paying off to you. your soft hands cupped his cheek, fueling the desire. his hand descends down to caress your thigh, rubbing gently before your dress pools to your stomach, lower half exposed to the cold air. namor could feel the heat he yearned as his fingertips gently brushed against your exposed cunt. you bare underneath the dress he provided, his aching cock wishing to come out.

“táan jach mojado, wáaj tuláakal ti' teen?” namor pressed his fingertip gently on your aching nub. you gasped, back arching, eyes slightly widening how the two of you are now doing this—

“please.” you begged as he only applied pressure, no rubbing or whatsoever, he seemed so smug as he had you this desperate. he shifts from his place, shrugging off his royal shawl, dropping it to the floor as he removes anything that might get into his way as he opens your legs, looking up for your consent as your eyes meet his.

“please.” you affirm again as he gingerly kisses the top of your knee.

he doesn’t know what fucking ambrosia fills his scent but the sight of your bare glistening cunt makes his whole body react accordingly. he descends down, kissing your knee before resting comfortably to kiss your inner thigh, the scent of your arousal tingling him.

“perfect.” he groans, can’t help but kiss your aching clit. licking his lips as your hands laced through his dark locks as he laps away like a starved man. you moan out, his tongue working wonders. you could not believe how eager he is to eat your cunt up like it’s his last meal. every flick, lick, kiss and suck, all over again and again making your thighs clamp hard around his head.

you fear you might suffocate him with your own cunt but you remembered the man literally breathes in water. namor could do this all day, he thinks, growling at how fucking tart your nectar is— how fucking dripping it is for him— only him.

namor melts between your thighs, in dazed and drunk. the sound of your muffled moans as the plush heat of your thighs at either sides of his face had him groaning. he sucks harsher, feeling your hips stutter as he puts his arm on top of your stomach to hold you in place. never stopping his feast, the more he licked and lapped, the more you begged with his name. his other hand could not help but slide down to his, gripping his clothed bulge, a shiver ran down his spine at the pressure that he could not take anymore.

“k’uk’ulkan…” you repeated, feeling your stomach coil in the pressure of his sinful mouth and tongue. he hums, pulling back, sitting up as his lips glistened with your arousal, fueling your desire as you whined. he palms himself, still staring down at you as you stared at the prize just under his hand. you carefully sat up, all thoughts seemingly trashed in your fucked-out mind. namor’s chest rose as he breathes in how angelic you are crawling towards him, your face dazed out and mouth glistening with your own saliva, hungry.

“what do you want, my love?” he asks as he grins making you momentarily look up to meet his eyes. you didn’t say anything as you pressed your lips to his bare stomach, making him shudder as his abs flexed the moment your soft lips touched his heated skin, the grip on his clothed cock tightened as you trailed down to meet his happy trail.

vixen. he surpasses the urge to call you that out loud, not when your hand is now shoving his hand away from his cock. he lets you do whatever you want with him, anticipation in his blood as your fingers curled in the hem of his shorts. ready for you to pull it down but you stopped for a moment as you stared up to him again, a plead in your gaze.

“can i?” you ask quietly.

something inside him breaks hearing your soft voice ask for his permission. he lets out a breath, hand coming up to caress your cheek as you nuzzled against his palm, waiting for his answer.

“je’el.” he nods, his words coming out in a slight tremble. he could feel himself succumb to the thought of you doing anything with him— everything in fact. you grin suddenly, breaking the eye contact as you pulled his shorts down completely, him helping you get it off as you tossed it to the ground.

namor groaned as his cock bounced up slightly, the cool air making him bite his lower lip as you gawked at it. you were speechless, taken aback, not expecting that it would be— that girthy in size. you gulped, remembering the countless times you would glance at his bulge whenever you two were either swimming in the sea or walking along the shore, it was something you couldn’t help but feel dirty for imagining what he truly looks like down their.

but now you’ve seen everything.

“you can take it, no?” he suddenly quips making you grumble in determination as you lulled yourself back from staring at his shaft. you wrapped your hand around his base making the said man shut up as he sighs out.

“i can.” you mumbled, totally not intimidated by his fucking length and girth overall. you pumped him slowly, right amount of pressure seeing the tip leak out a bit. wondering how you are making a said ‘god’ now weak on his knees, hearing little huffs come from his mouth but still looking so composed. you admired how reserved he looks as you dart your tongue out to lick the fat head.

“mierda—“ he grumbles, a hand gripping the back of your head as the other fumbled with your breast and whatever skin he can reach as he stays still watching you finally engulf him slowly. your mouth stretched accommodating his size as you hummed, liking the way he taste and maybe a tiny bit saltier— you were not complaining though.

“look at you.” he speaks with adoration, admiring the way you started to suck him off, letting him in deeper inside of your hot cavern inch by inch you can take. the way you are on your knees for him, glancing at him from time to time as you meet his hungry eyes. he resists the urge to fuck your mouth, savoring how determined you are to make him feel the same pleasure as he did on you. you were serious to making him feel good, bobbing your head up and down as your other hand gripped his base, pumping him where your mouth can’t reach. your eyes watered as the tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag a bit as you pulled him out, panting.

the string of saliva appeared as you licked your lips, kissing the tip again as you gently put him in your mouth again. namor hissed feeling the coil in his stomach almost snap. you continued on with your pace, liking the way you could hear his labored breaths and little groans, making you smile a bit as the salty taste of him had you addicted.

this is torture. namor thinks as he lets you suck him off for a bit before abruptly pulling himself out of your mouth, making you whine. he chuckles seeing your expression before he captured your lips again, tasting himself as he pushed you to lay back on the bed. you reciprocated with eagerness as you opened your legs for him to slant himself there, cock grazing your cunt making you let out a low moan in his mouth. namor swallows those pretty sounds of yours before pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours. a knowing look in his eyes as you waited for him to speak first.

“can i?” he finally asks, grinding himself on your cunt. you whimpered, looking down to see how desperate he is before looking back to his eyes.

“please.” you muttered, cupping his cheeks as shuffles in his place. his hand reaching down to grasp himself, positioning his head to rub against your entrance as you cursed at the wet feeling.

“k’uk’ulkan…” you mewled, anticipating he’d ram himself inside of you this instant but he’s patient as ever as he rubs the fat bulb of his head on your clit, gathering enough slick before finally pushing in slowly. making your back arch at the intrusion as your hands fly down to grasp his broad shoulders.

“is it too much?” he suddenly asks, concerned, watching you carefully. you smiled at his concerns as you kissed the tip of his nose.

“it’s perfect.” you whispered, clenching around him to signal him to get on with it. namor growls as he does what you want, bottoming out in you as deep as he can go. he stills for the moment, you two immersed at the feeling of each other. a sort of fuzzy feeling of something special how connected you two are. gentle caresses and kisses of encouragement exchanged between the two of you as he finally gives an experimental thrust.

“perfecto.” he sighs, kissing you again as you grinned. namor grinds into you slowly at first, feeling the way your walls clench around him as he hits a spot. he leaves kisses on your face, marks on your neck, whispers of undying loving words how you make him feel so good. you merely moan out his name as he starts to pick up a good pace that has you desperate on him.

“jach jats'uts yáanal tin.” he pants, hand caressing you everywhere as he stares at your blissed out face. each hard snap of his hips making your body bounce at the intensity. the lewd wet slapping adding in as heat and sweat enveloped you two. you whimpered at how his cock was hitting that spot making your hips wiggle and back arch. it felt so sticky yet so good at how he’s so passionate about this.

absolutely perfect. your mind screams as you wrap your arms around his torso, grasping his back as he fucks you with vigor. your whines like a sirens song to his ears, he rests his lips on your forehead as he pounds into you. feeling himself on the verge as you clenched around him tightly as ever, a signal to him that you were also cumming. namor kisses every inch of your face before swallowing up your moans you were about to cum. your heart pounded in synch with his as he desperately fucked into you. you gasped loudly, gripping his skin, nails digging, body convulsing with pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier, pounding in through your orgasm.

“ki’ichpanech…” namor practically breaths out your name next, eyes shutting for a moment as he feels him release. one, two, three powerful thrusts sends him home as he almost rips the beddings apart above your head. blood rushes to your ears as the intensity stops. he slumps a bit, laying his weight on your body but not too much, fearing you’d be crushed. both your breaths only to be heard as it fills the silence of the room.

everything slows down the moment when his eyes flutter open to meet yours. the exact same eyes he had first met in the moonlight. your heart soars to see him soften as you kissed him gently, soft and pillowy it felt, something slow after that. your hand instinctively brushes the stray hair from his forehead, sweat beading there. he plants more kisses again on your face as you giggled, only gasping as he removes himself abruptly. there are so many things you wanted to say to him in those moment but all are left unsaid when he laces your hands together. a glint in his eyes, all you adore.

“stay with me, ki’ichpanech.” he says, as if you would leave him. you can’t help but nod quickly as ever like you did when he asked you to go with him here. you knew what you were in for and you were sure for it, knowing your heart won’t stop beating so loudly when he smiles now as you mutter a verbal confirmation out, concealing it. the glimpse of his mother’s bracelet on your wrist a wonderful glimpse of a future.

“i will.”

I FINISHED IT FINALLY AND HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE !! THANK U FOR THE PATIENCE. im back to writing finally. <3

#namor x reader #namor #k’uk’ulkan #k’uk’ulkan x reader #namor x female reader #namor smut #tenoch huerta #bpwf spoilers #namor imagine #black panther: wakanda forever #fnhrlcllnwrites

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

For your wounded heart

Pt.1

Pairing: Mizu x reader

Word count: ~2k

Notes: If there will be interest for it, I'll continue the story, because so far there isn't really a Mizu x reader going on lmfaoo but we'll seeeee

Ps.: Mizu's pronounce is he/him in this part

Here's Part 2

The molten gold disc of the sun slowly crept up the horizon, pouring gray onto the world from the darkness. It rose drowsily, languidly among the tall canopies, leaves lighting up as it projected onto them as thousands of thalers appeared next to the shining disk.

The songbirds ruffled their feathers — ready for the challenges of another day, and sang happily to their companions.

A strong draft escaped from under the wooden door, making the embers of the flickering fire dance before running through your covers.

The sudden cold bit into your skin; grabbing you from the realm of dreams, dragging you back to the world of the living with its icy fingers. You opened your eyes with a terrified sigh; waking up from the warm and caressing dream you pulled yourself under the covers.

Another day, another task ahead of you.

Wearly, you dressed up before trying to gather your belongings, which you would need shortly.

A scalpel, a knife, gloves and a deep basket soon graced your side as you set off into the awakening forest.

Three days ago, you were approached by one of the most influential merchants in town. His wife caught the chills-fever, which her priests had not been able to cure with any of their treatments. Realizing that needles, prayers and incense would not help here, the nobleman visited you the day before, when the noises of the market in the main square seemed to dull down, when you started packing your goods to go home.

It had been a long time since you were last offered such a sum - too long for your liking. Short of money - and because you would have faced the wrath of a powerful man if you refused - you accepted his offer to heal his spouse.

Early in the morning, when the rooster hadn't even crowed, you were already ready to go collect the ingredients for the potion.

The sharp autumn air crawled over your skin, penetrated your bones and breathed newfound strength into your heart. Listening to the soothing soft melody of the forest, you set off towards its thickets, hoping that you would find enough ingredients for your tonics today. Everything was ready to take care of the sick wife- all you had to do was get the hojicha flower, of which you had run out of stock a while ago.

Pulling your cloak tight around your shoulders, you stepped on the wet moss carpet, careful not to slip on the rutted ground. Soon the ground would start to freeze- you thought as you tried to remember which tree trunk you marked, where you should turn right or left to reach your usual harvesting location.

"If I want to have everything in the winter, I have to collect them in time..." You sighed, stepping over a taller ditch. "Maybe I should look at the market to buy seeds and-"

"To the best of my knowledge, you have to go the other way to the nearest market." A harsh, sharp voice spoke from your left.

You immediately screamed and if the cold didn't do it until now — the stranger who suddenly stumbled here had certainly frozen your blood. The pounding of your heart only made it worse as you spun backwards, trying to face the source of the sound. Your foot slipped and you fell to your knees, hitting a wet log while you turned your head trying to find the source of the sound.

After a while, three men appeared in front of you; one from the nearby bushes, while two crept out from behind the cover of the trees; like wild dogs lurking in wait for their prey.

"The lady must be lost, people can disappear quickly in the forest..." The other man nodded with a vile grin, rubbing his palms together while approaching you.

"Certainly, it is not recommended to walk alone in such remote places at the crack of dawn." The third man took over, turning his attention to the basket lying on the floor next to you. “It's better if we accompany you… so no one attacks you.”

"I didn't, I just-" You stammered, but your voice got stuck in your throat as the three strangers walked closer and closer. Their ragged and dirty clothes, their darkly glistening dreadful eyes ruled out that they were simple wanderers.

You ran into bandits on the road, alone, in the middle of the forest. Your heart was pounding in your throat and kept yelling for you to move, escape, run — otherwise you will take your last breath here forever.

Your eyes darted to your overturned basket – deep inside your knife was glinting in a cold light. If you could be fast enough to get it out of there...Fight for your life. You fight or you die.

But instincts were stronger than reason; the Gods opened a third way for you at that moment.

You pushed yourself away with your hands, your heels digging into the ground hard, almost scraping it up as you jumped up to run away like a chased deer. You could barely feel your legs, could barely breathe as you ran through the trees with all your might, jumping over bushes, rocks, and pits. With your heart in your throat, with the sound of the bandits' steps and shouts in your ears, you kept going forward, not even daring to look back.

Your ability to navigate had left you, you didn't even know if you were running towards or away from them, there was just the feeling that you still had to go, still run, still fight. If you stopped you were dead, if you fell you were dead, if they caught up you were dead.

A huge thorn bush appeared in front of you, too high and wide it would have been almost impossible to jump over it, to get around it; so for lack of a better option you tensed your muscles, pulled your neck in, closed your eyes and ran into the branches, shielding your face with your arms.

The pain that ignited in the darkness flashed through you as a hundred and a thousand spikes dug into your exposed skin; then you felt the ground open under your feet, suddenly you began to fall.

You didn't even have time to cry out when you hit the hard ground with your side.

Lying there injured and exhausted, with a bursting heart, you realized that it was all over.

You just sealed your faith.

Panting and choking from crying, you heard the rustling of the bushes behind you, then the trampling of feet.

"Here's the little slut" One of the men chuckled, but the cheering stopped almost immediately.

You did not dare to look up from the ground, did not dare to move; you were left lying on the ground trembling, awaiting death...

But nothing happened.

Another second, but there was only silence, no more footsteps, no giggles, no shouts.

Blinking away the dirt and blood, you looked from behind your lashes and then realized why you were still breathing.

The attention of the three thugs no longer plagued you. They turned almost motionless, to the left, watching ahead of them.

You followed their gaze and saw that you had fallen on a road. On a road where a fourth stranger was now standing in front of you.

A tall, lanky stranger in blue traveling clothes, the bamboo hat he wore pulled low over his face, obscuring his features.

A stranger with a sword in his hand.

Suddenly everything around you seemed to be silent; the chirping of the birds died away, the trees and twigs no longer creaked and cracked, as if the wind itself had stopped to watch the unfolding scene.

Not wanting to break the silence, you stared at the fourth stranger, holding your breath, wondering what would happen now.

Was that your savior ahead of you? Or was he just a wanderer who didn’t care what troubled others, who would only solve his own problems, regardless of if he made others ill-fated? Maybe you got out of the frying pan into the fire?

"There's nothing to see here." The nimblest bandit growled, a rusty knife in hand. "Everybody's minding their own business, right?"

"This matter belongs only to us and this woman, there is no need to cause difficulties for anyone." The largest one with a long mustache spoke slyly, the one closest to you clutched a heavy cudgel in his fist, his knuckles white from the force with which he gripped it.

The blue-clad stranger didn't answer immediately, instead tilting his head to the side, he peeked out from behind the brim of his hat, flashing his yellow-tinted glasses in the light.

"Looking at you, I suspect you are road thugs." The sword bearer spoke, his voice softer than you would have expected. "You rob those who come here." His words didn't seem like a question.

At this, the third man - the fox with a smile, who had a katana, spat down his side stepping forward in front of his companions.

"If you want good for yourself, you turn back or walk past us without another word." He snapped in his raspy voice, grabbing the hilt of his sword as the other two tensed with their weapons as well.

Barely able to handle the shaking and the hitching of your breath, you lifted your torso off the ground with challenge, turning to the blue-cloaked stranger desperately.

"Please…" Your voice trailed off as sobs broke from you. "Don't let me die, please!" Your voice cracked; hot tears washing away the mud and blood from your face. "Help me, please!"

The lanky stranger moved his arm back, revealing the hilt of his sword as he reached towards it with his right hand.

You inhaled through your teeth when you heard the deep clang of metal and clattering footsteps as the bandits charged towards him.

You dropped back down, pulling your knees to your chest as the battle began. Only daring to watch the scene from the cover of your arm.

The swordsman reached first the blue-clad savior, swinging an upward blow from the left, but his sword met another steel.

The man in the hat drew his sword from the sheath with the speed of a viper, breaking the first attack with almost no effort. Before the thug could react to it, the man was already flying to the ground, his legs entangled as the blue clothed one pushed him away to answer the next blow.

The rusty knife reached him second, and while his companion seized the stranger with his blade, he thrusted his knife towards your helper's neck. The cloaked man shoved the katana wielder away with his foot as he turned his torso to the side, the knife still flying towards him mid air.

Taking advantage of the movement, he turned to the right, placing one raised foot in front of the other, cutting across with his blade in front of him.

In a blink of an eye, red rain shot from the arm of the knife-wielding bandit - the sword almost cut his arm off. He staggered with a sharp wail, then fell to the ground, where he continued to shriek.

The one with a cudgel on the other hand did not attack yet, instead he stopped from a decent distance so the sword of the man in blue could not reach him, seemingly considering his next moves.

But this proved to be only a distraction when the first attacker reappeared, this time springing into action behind your savior's back.

The one in blue could hear this, as he turned to the side keeping an eye on both of his attackers, but then the largest started to move suddenly in order to attack at the same time with his other partner.

Seeing the impossible situation, you already had the mental image of the swordsman slashing your savior while the other beat him to death with the heavy club — you whimpered in terror, burying your face in your arms to shield yourself from the sight.

You heard a shout and the clang of steel meeting again, something heavy falling to the ground. A dull, more watery pounding - the cudgel! Bubbling, frothy snoring- a moan of agony and then silence.

You were next, you were sure of that.

Sharp cuts, bone-crushing blows and then slow, lingering death awaits you.

But there was no movement, not even a single grunt from the fight.

Panting, you raised your head to shorten your wait, but you did not find yourself facing the person you were waiting for.

You caught the gaze of the blue-cloaked stranger. You watched with a dry throat and roaring head as he stood over the three bloodied, dying bandits, his sword still clutched in his right hand.

The bamboo hat was no longer on his head, it probably fell off sometime during the fight when you weren't looking, and now was lying at his feet, waiting to be dusted off and put on again.

But instead, the stranger staggered, his knees buckling as he took two steps forward, finally slumping forward onto the ground, leaving you alone in the field of vigilance.

#blue eye samurai #mizu #bes #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #bes x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #mizu imagine #bes imagine #blue eye samurai headcanons #mizu headcanons #bes headcanons #blue eye samurai fanfic #bes fanfic #mizu fanfic #x reader #for now i cannot decide yet if it will be gn or fem reader tho :/ #my writing

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the something blue

lilac, chapter sixteen

a/n: i gotta admit, I felt pretty proud of myself back when i came up with the title for this chapter. really clicking into that big brain of mine, giving it multiple meanings

summary: Casting one last glance over your shoulder at the celebrations still in full swing, you slowly made your way out front to where your car was parked among all of the guests’. 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, angst, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, wedding, kidnapping, crying, violence, cliffhanger

word count: 917

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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As you pulled open the zipper on your backpack that was momentarily resting on the wobbly porch bench, a small smile tugged at your lips as your gaze washed over the dancing figures distantly in the garden. Softly lit by the twinkle lights strung from the trees, you caught sight of Donna, in the middle of the grassy dancefloor, swaying closely with a man about a head shorter than her, the strong embrace she had around him smooshed his face far into her bosom. Twirling around, she caught the eye of both Otto and your father who were off to the side, dancing as if they were in Studio 54. 

Shifting the tupperware of cake under your arm, you fished out your phone from your bag’s front pocket and began to type out a message. 

Y/n: Finally done! Hope you’re not asleep yet because I am on my way!

And just a few short moments later, your phone plinged with a reply.

Frank: Don’t worry, sweetheart. I am wide awake.

Smiling softly to yourself, you tucked your phone away, nearly shoving it into the folded-up cotton of the underwear you’d rid yourself of just minutes earlier when you had dipped inside to grab your stuff from your room. 

Closing the front compartment, you slung the backpack over one shoulder and smoothed a hand down over the deep green velvet wrap dress that enveloped your curves, hugging you and cascading off like a waterfall. 

Casting one last glance over your shoulder at the celebrations still in full swing, you slowly made your way out front to where your car was parked among all of the guests’. 

With gravel crunching beneath your modest heels, you neared your vehicle, tugging your bag around to your front as your fingers fiddled after your keys. Halting just as you neared the door, you glanced down a moment before finally finding the keys at the very bottom of your bag. 

But just as you fished the jangly bundle out and moved to unlock your car, heavy pairs of footsteps rustled in the gravel behind you. 

Absentmindedly glancing over your shoulder, assuming that it was just a sleepy wedding guest ready to go home, you instead spotted two big, rough-looking individuals that you didn’t recollect from the day’s festivities. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, your words ended up muffled as they rushed and closed the gap between you, one of them clasping a palm over your lips, nicotine staining the harsh flesh and burning in your nostrils. 

The cake and the keys tumbled to the ground with your backpack soon following suit as they grabbed you, lifted you off your feet and hauled you towards a close by dark van you hadn’t even blinked at before. You tried to get free, kicking and screaming in their grasp, but all your struggles granted you was the loss of both of your shoes.  

As they threw you into the back of the vehicle, the tumble itself onto the cold metal floor left you breathless and aching, the alarmed words, “what are you–,” escaped your lips just before one of the men stepped in after you and the other slammed the door shut. Sitting down on the small bench on the side wall, his hands dipped into a duffle bag as you squeaked, “let me go!” 

Not even casting a glance off in your direction, he just conjured a roll of duct tape as you soon felt the van begin to drive off. 

Leaning in, the man captured your wrists and began to bind them up. 

“This must be a mistake, I-I think you’ve got the wrong person,” tears rolled down your cheeks as he moved to restrain your ankles, “i-if you just stop and drop me off, I promise I won’t go to the authorities,” you trembled like a leaf on the grimy floor, “please, just let me go!”

“Shut up, bitch,” he shot back coldly. 

Casting a glance over your shoulder at the small window that looked to the driver’s seat as well as the night’s swallowing darkness they speeded into, you tried to ask, “w-where are you taking me?”

“I said,” the man looming above you growled before he tore off another piece of tape and forced it over your lips, “shut up,” soon following it up with a dark cloth bag that he tugged over your head.

Disappearing into the void, you had no idea how long the bumpy car ride took. Could have been an hour, could have been a day. The time was impossible to decipher as all you could feel was the paralysing terror that ravaged every inch of your being. 

But at some point, the van did roll to a stop and you heard the doors again be ripped open. 

A shrill yelp muffled against the tape as you felt numerous rough hands grab a hold of you and haul you out. Your balance was non-existent as your bound feet met freezing concrete, the bruising grips being the only thing holding you upright.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the harsh fluorescent light after they ripped the dark hood off, a few strands of your hair following with them in the action. 

You were in a parking garage of some sort, but that discovery wasn’t what made you nearly faint. It was the familiar, suit-clad man standing before you with his ring-adorned hands shoved casually into his pant pockets. 

“Hello, doll.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst

[llamagoddessofficial]

How do you think the forest god bois (Im sorry i just love them) would react to their darling wife being stolen from them?

Please don't apologise. I love them too

Sans: This particular Forest God's rage is cold. It's damp, dark... it's eyes in the woods, it's the dooming feeling of being lost with no hope, a mould that rots you from the inside out. Kidnapping your potential partner may be commonplace among the Fae, but man... stealing a Forest God's wife is one step away from just outright cursing your own name forever. No punishment is too gratuitous.

The only hope for her kidnapper(s) is that she's back in Sans' arms quickly, and she intercedes on their behalf. If her return is fast he may have enough presence of mind to make the death quick. If not... well. If he thinks her seeing might make her too upset, he isn't above tucking her into a comfortable dream.

Once he's done, he's going to need a few days of cuddling. It's best she doesn't ask what happened to them. Their voices will echo through the darkest parts of the woods for many, many more centuries to come.

Red: Red wants to be human. He always tries so hard to be more human, surrounding himself with objects and trinkets of that world, learning their languages and lives and tempers. He craves humanity- that possible version of him, that could have people by his side forever, and by God standards he's very attuned to them. But someone taking his wife- it definitely brings out the Old Fae within him. The darkness, the possessiveness, the lack of empathy. And the wrath.

Some small part of him wants to be merciful, to prove to himself (and to her) that he can act like her kin.

... At the end of the day, however, he's not a human. Nothing will change that. A hoard of birds and bugs make short work of a face; and even when he sees the terror in her expression at what happened to her kidnappers, he can barely find the energy to even pretend to care for their deaths.

Skull: He was starting to be nicer to humans, you know. He'd let so many people through his bog untouched. His beloved's presence in his life was dampening the age-old flames of hatred... perhaps humans aren't all bad. She's so wonderful, after all, maybe the ones who hurt him long ago are gone now, and things are better. Maybe he can start to figure out how to let that hatred rest. Maybe he can start to figure out how he can rest.

... Then she gets stolen. And it all comes back. First his forest, now the only one who ever broke through his loneliness, all humans do is take the things he loves most. Her kindness, her love, she's the exception- an exception to a rule he despises.

He lives in... difficult terrain. Without his blessing, it's impossible for any would-be kidnappers to get very far away. Skull doesn't need to strain himself to catch up. While he's chasing, he has a lot of time to ponder what he's going to do to them.

There are many terrifying, painful, prolonged ways to die in a bog, after all.

#llamagines #forest god sanses #forest god au #mc: S-Sans please... I don't want to see you hurt anyone! #sans: dang- why didn't you just say that? i'll make sure you don't see #mc: You know DAMN WELL that's not what I [immediately falls asleep]

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Forever, mine.

Pairing: Astarion x reader

Warning: Dark themes, Smut, Concubine reader, Augst, Yandere Astarion, Possessive Astarion, Arguments, Creampie, Fingering, Bloodsucking, One-side love? (Fanart, not mine)

Summary: don't you know you're his?

You recall the first time you met your master, the white clouds blocked the warm light of the sun. You sat down at the edge of the path of the town where you were confined. Ladies and gentlemen alike walked pasted you, who would pay attention to a beggar? A woman at that who was covered in dirt and grime, hair rattan and tangled, with cloths holed and torn. You sniffled as your vision blurred, barely seeing people walking until tears fell.

That's when you saw him.

It was like the world slowed for his outworldly beauty. A ray of sunlight appeared from the cloudy day and shined upon him, a man of pale skin, white hair that was styled to perfection, eyes an beautiful burgundy, and he was adorned with the finest of fabrics, a smirk full of genuine confidence.

Your breath shorted as the man stopped in front of you once he noticed your glaze, the Heat of embarrassment flushed in your cheeks, and your lap became quite outstanding. Unexpectedly two fingers lifted your chin and your glaze had once again fell on the man. He kneeled on one knee and smiled softly at you to your surprise. Leaning back you surely smelled caused a frown on his lips. "You do not have to fear me pet. I wish you no harm, quite the contrary." his voice was as regal and enchanting as his blessed beauty, "Take my hand." he offered his other hand, you musted of hesitated more than he liked he spoke again "I know how hard this life is. Having to beg for the tiny bit of kindness of cruel people." he looked almost pasted you like he was reminiscing. "I'll take you away. You won't have to worry about your next meal nor surviving another cold, winter anymore.  For I will clothe you, feed you, keep you safe and warm. All your wants and needs will be met." he rubbed some grime from your cheek.

"What do you say?" you took his hand that day and his words rang true. If only you knew what it would come to.

The dancing of the candlelight shined light upon the sinful dance of passion you shared with your master, in the otherwise dark room.

Your mouth dropped open as you let out a strangled moan, Astarion's hold on your hips tightened in response. "My beautiful concubine." Your master growled as he lost himself in pleasure called you, his usual maintained curls, messy from the grip your had them in earlier, and laid over his ruby orbs, He was even more beautiful this way. "You ruin me!" He gasps as you clenched around your poor master, his thrusting stuttered before he began to pound into your squelching, wet cunt. The sent of your arousals and sweat thickens in the air "Harder." You bucked your hips "please, harder." You begged of your master and he surly answered. "As you wish my pet." He chuckled darkly as he throw your legs that rested around his waist onto his shoulders and bend down, driving his already deep cock deeper in your wet cavern. The world seemed to disappeared as your heated glazes locked together, it was just you and him in this moment of passionate, as you both reached your climax, he whispered her name. The name of his beloved runway, Tav, the one you were brought here to just replac. You faked a moan and a shudder, faking your orgasm as your master release his pearly cum deep within you. Filling you with everything he had but his love.

Disappointment and bitterness were a feeling you knew all too well and while he lay beside you it felt like he was miles away, so scared to get close, he saved you and he favored you yet that meant nothing, and it meant nothing as Astarion held you close, your head resting on his chest, snuggling into his side as the moon raised high in the sky. It was nothing and you would always being nothing to him.

As the sun took its place among the clouds of the day, you awoke to his disappearance, likely busy with his duties as the vampire Lord, and a note with your beloved master's beautiful handwriting.

My dearest concubine,

I regret to inform you that I will be occupied for the remainder of the day and night as there is no rest for rulers. I hope you will miss me as much as I miss you.

With love,

Astarion.

You sighed, pushing away the ache in your heart as you sat down on your vanity chair, and began to brush your hair. Despite being only a concubine, you were an extension of your master and you had to look of importance in your master's castle. Once your maid helped you into your gown your duties commenced. You were to make sure things were done to perfection, and that no mistakes were made to give people a slight idea your master reputation was not up to hold.

The kitchen bustled with life as the chefs and the maid prepared for one of the master's many ball events, which would feature various races. Your maid, Lyra, took notes as you checked with the chefs about the dishes. "My lady," she whispered gently, poking your arm to gather your attention away from the head chef's demonstration of the selected dishes. A familiar pale man smiled at you, his teal eyes lighting up as you glanced in his direction. Soren Nightingale, a young man who was clearly infatuated with you, and you felt the same way about him.

Soren took your hand, and you both ran to the garden. Your back hit the tree as his lips met yours. Little did you know, angry ruby eyes were watching from the castle window.

"This how you repay me!" Astarion hissed, slamming the door of his chamber, the moon had raised again shrouding the room in moonlight, "Giving another man love and affection!" He yelled, glaring at you with such rage that you stepped back each time he walked towards you till your back met the wall. "I gave you everything! My love was yours but how would you care!! You still love her? " you yelled back. "You forget yourself. You belong to me! All of you." He grabbed your arm and pulled you into a kiss, his hand tearing away at your gown and underwater, his rough kisses trailing from your lips to your neck, his sinfully hot tongue licking a stripe before his fangs pierced your skin. An unexpected moan forced its way out of you as your master drank from you.

You yepped as his fangs ripped out your neck and you were thrown onto his bed. Your face burned with embarrassment, and frustration as your pussy became wet with your arousal. "oh my pet~" Astarion cooed as he climbed above you, his body bare of clothes, "Your body knows it's mine, why can't you? " he mocked as his cold nimble fingers playfully dips the tip of his finger into your entrance. You glared at him, your lips curled into a snarl "I will never-" your words were cut off as your mouth dropped into a perfect o as his long finger finally pushed it away in. In no time his finger was joined by another as they curled into your sweet spot and they thrusted with practiced ease. Slick coated the silken sheets as well as your master's palm, the coming bliss of your orgasm was taken away as he pulled his fingers from your depths.

"Now we can't have that, you've been a bad pup." Astarion grinned wickedly as he saw the look of anger on your face, he wanted to prove a point and he would, lining up his cock to your core and without waiting slammed in, groaning as he felt your wet walls. You cried out, your body shook from his intense thrusts, his hips snapping, driving his cock deeper and deeper nor did he slow. The bed creaked under you as your bucked your hips to his ponding, and as his cock head hit your cervix, your sweet releasing finally washed upon you. "You belong to me and don't you ever forget it." Astarion growled as he slammed into you, his cock throbbing and twitch as his cum filled you in hot spurts.

You will always be his and he'll never let you forget it. He will make sure to let that little boy know as well.

#tw: dark themes #astarion bg3 #yandere astarion #astarion x reader #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #astarion smut #astarion x you

[armpirate]

RED || JJK

MASTERLIST

pairing: Demon!JK x fem!reader || Fantasy, manifestation

w.c.: 3.7k

Warnings:smut, oral sex (female receiving)..

Summary: When you first watched all those manifestation videos, you decided to give it a try just for the laughs. What you didn't know is that you shouldn't have tried at all.

Aprox. time of reading: 16 minutes

You were listening to the audios, watching the videos, while your mind was filled with the thoughts the characters on the screen influenced you into thinking. You were bored, and that type of manifestation videos had popped up on your Tik Tok too many times in the past few days to ignore them. You knew when you had to take a hint.

You had spent more than an hour watching those twenty minute-long videos, listening to the bland music in the background only to get nothing. You sighed, dropping your phone to your side before taking off your headphones.

If you were so bored to do that bullshit, you should've put yourself to study instead. But it seemed funnier than picking up a book or your notes. In your defense, one of your wishes was being so smart that you wouldn't need to study that hard ever again.

Upset, you settled everything so you could go to sleep. You thought that maybe a demon would come right after at your call, and would set you free from all your obligations. You waved goodbye at the ten million dollars, the megamind, and the success you were craving for when you started that damned ritual.

The street was empty and dark, there wasn't a single light on, except for the three capital letters that formed the word "RED", lit with red neon lights. That street was the type of place you would run from if you ever found yourself there. Although you were confused by how wide the main road was. It didn't make sense how there wasn't a single soul walking there, or how neither of the lights of either of the buildings were shining through the small windows.

The cold air hitting your skin made you hug yourself almost instantly, even more confused at the fact that you were out with your tank top and shorts that you used as your pajamas. You couldn't see the wave that came over you, but you could sense it, you were sure that your eyes perceived some type of reflection from afar before your throat instantly closed.

As if your body knew the danger was outside, your fingers reached the golden knob of the establishment, opening the door and hurrying inside before you felt warm again, feeling the air lighter running through your lungs.

The door clicking behind you echoed in the room, making you aware of how big the place was despite being completely dark. You tried to open it, as if that was the only thing you needed to do to get it all started.

While you were pulling from the knob, some claps got your attention, freezing your moves. With every lamp that was being lit in the corridor, a new clap made your hairs raise. It kept narrower the further it was from you, and the weak lights coming from the curved lamps barely gave you any chance to see properly. Your mind was telling you to keep trying to open the main door, but your body moved as if there was something else controlling your moves better than you did.

Your steps felt heavy, almost as if your body was being dragged by an external force to the dark red door at the end of the corridor. You caressed the knob gently, as if you were asking your way in politely to whoever was inside.

You squinted your eyes, trying to see something through the darkness when the door closed behind you again. You didn't even attempt to get out, you knew there was something inside you wanted to find.

A sonorous breeze collided with your ears, and your body instantly reacted to the sensation. Your skin was burning, and your core throbbed with eagerness. You pressed your thighs together, trying to make that feeling disappear, but it only grew bigger with every rub of your legs.

Somewhere among the silence, you heard a male chuckle, deep and dark, that made your brain overthink and your stomach feel funny.

The room lit up, but not completely. Somewhere across the place, you could see a trace of lights that started moving in front of you. With every new move, you discovered a new thing of whatever darkness was keeping from your eyesight.

A few centimeters ahead of you, there was a black leather headboard that shines under the light, completely disappearing as the focus keeps moving. It lowers down, allowing you to see the burgundy sheets falling over the edge of the bed, heading to its corner and moving back to the center, where you're able to see a pair of athletic thighs, covered with some black slacks, manspreading with a hand falling lazily in the center. You try to pay attention to the tattoos on the reverse and his fingers, but the light moves before you're able to. It goes back to the opposite side of the headboard, moving to the right steadily. His eyes are black and fierce, as if he knew he'd be able to do whatever he wanted to you. There isn't a glimpse of good intentions on the looks he's giving you.

The way he already had his eyes on you, and how he even moved them lower over your body, made you aware that unlike you, he was indeed able to see you across the darkness. You thought you'd be able to reach the climax merely with the way he was looking at you.

You were his prey, and he was the beast ready to jump at you.

The corners of his doe eyes wrinkle for a second, as if he finally thought what he was going to do to you. And just as that happens, the only light in the room disappears, leaving you lost, momentarily blind.

You were hopeful the light would shine again and would fall on him, that was why your eyes didn't move a centimeter from where you last saw his eyes. But when the light comes back, and starts moving over the spot he was at, there's no one else anymore. The sheets look messy, and they have the subtle shape of his buttocks, so at least you know he was indeed there.

It was disappointing for you. Because it was all getting started, and the moment you were calming yourself down to speak, he vanished.

Your body squirms involuntarily when a warm touch covers your side over your tank top, feeling a palm covering your ribs.

He first breathed into your ear, making your neck fall to the side "Were you looking for me?"

His voice was deep, yet melodic. You hadn't seen his face completely, you didn't know his intentions, but you were ready to do whatever he asked you to.

His hand expanded to your belly, with his pinky finger ghosting over the elastic of your shorts. He still didn't stop, but his touch was gentle on you, venturing himself lower, caressing your body as if he had touched it many times before. His fingers played with the edge of your shorts, digging lower and directly moving through your underwear. He didn't ask for permission. It was as if your consent had been agreed beforehand, long before you showed up in that place.

"Then you already found me"

His body pressed against your back, while his hand dud lower, until the tip of his fingers reached your clit.

You woke up instantly, in the middle of a heavy breath that forced you to sit on the bed. You looked around in your studio, confused at being there for a few seconds, trying to understand that everything that happened was just a dream. Despite being home, you still had the feeling of being somewhere else just seconds ago. That dream felt way too vivid and real to only be part of your imagination.

That dream kept repeating in the following days. The focus would change on every dream. It started with his deep black eyes, imponent and authoritative, with not a single holy thought behind them. The next one was his lips. Those heart-shaped lips, adorned with two lip rings, that had you parting your lips in one record time. You saw yourself waiting for him, while he only smirked centimeters away from your mouth. The last dream was blurry, the focus was only in his tattooed hand -but not even the drawings were clear there, you only remembered some indescribable drawings on his reverse and some letters on his knuckles-, and the way it navigated over your naked belly. You don't remember yourself, or the way you looked there, but the way your heart squeezed with each touch and how you felt like you were at the edge of a cliff when his fingers traced lines close to your belly button. Your skin was burning every time you woke up, you swore you could feel his fingertips, his breath and his gaze minutes after.

But it went further than those dreams. Or, maybe you were being too sensitive over the topic, and the minimum thing got you jumping to the conclusion that the manifestation did work. You swore you were going through what those girls in those videos claimed. You saw those suspicious posts that somehow felt related to a question you dropped out loud in the middle of the night while trying to speak to him. He was there, and you could feel his presence getting heavier with each passing day.

It made you curious, but it didn't scare you. Those manifestation videos didn't crave for anything that would hurt you, or so they claimed. The entities weren't even similar to anything you had heard before, so maybe that was why you weren't scared. Freaked out over it working? Yes. You didn't expect such lame resources to be useful for anything else than wasting time. And that was why you kept doing what the instructional videos said. You talked out loud, as if there was someone else in the room. Many times you waited for some type of response, any sign that could tell you you weren't alone.

But, as usual, there was no response. At least until night came.

You woke up covered in sweat, breathing fast and disoriented. It was the first night you didn't dream of him, and you were scared something might have started to go wrong. But he was faster than your thoughts.

The bed sank at your feet, but you tried to shrug it off, convincing yourself it was a hallucination that you were suggesting at your own thoughts.

In discord with your thoughts, your body started working on its own. Your blood heat was rising by the minute, you could feel it burn your veins. It made no sense how you breath started going shaky, and your heartbeat fast.

When the sheets moved from your body by themselves, you thought you were in one of your dreams. The only difference being that he was keeping himself hidden from you. And there was something so exciting about being that exposed, while he wasn't even visible in front of you at that moment. Maybe it was the idea of not being able to tell what he was going to do until he did it. And it made you feel relaxed about the fact that it was all a dream.

Supporting the weight of your upper body on your elbows, you saw everything unfold in front of your eyes. Your shorts slipped down your legs, along with your panties, something that instantly got you pressing your thighs together as a reflection.

You couldn't see what it was, but the touch was hot and harsh, spreading your legs even wider than they were before. For a few seconds, you felt nothing. You were left focusing on your messy breathing, and how loud it sounded along with your heart pumping against your rib cage. You still waited, because whatever was hunting you at night wanted you like that.

A loud gasp left the depths of your throat when something wet and warm slipped through your slit, moving up from your entrance and stopping before it could reach your clit.

Jungkook had been watching you ever since you manifested him. He knew all your weak spots, he knew what you craved for, and he knew that edging you for so many days would put you in a state where you wouldn't even be scared when he tried to touch you in real life. You were receptive, willing to let him do what he wanted to you. And there wasn't anything more dangerous than that.

Once he felt he owned the person that asked for him, he was able to do anything he proposed himself to do.

His tongue dug deeper in your core, tasting you for the first time and keeping control of everything he wanted to do to you in that moment. Beautiful, open for him and perfect to be wrecked by him. He just needed time.

Your back arched when you felt the suction on your clit, pulling from the bundle of nerves while his tongue twirling around it. You were only able to hear the silent moan that escaped your lips when you weren't able to control yourself, staring at the ceiling of your room while you felt the heat rising from your tiptoes to your eyelashes.

You wanted to touch him, push his head deeper into your core and let your more animalistic instincts flow, but it was impossible to do it with someone you weren't seeing. Your hands simply fell to your sides, holding onto the sheets as if that would keep you from reaching your climax. You were long gone, your sanity was out the window, there was no reason for you to hold yourself back from your so earned high.

But if you needed one last push, Jungkook was going to give it to you.

That warm and firm touch moved up to your thighs, making sure you would be kept in place when your hips started grinding against him. The shadows that formed due to some of the city lights left you confused. Despite not seeing what was holding you, you still saw the gaps that would be there if a hand was adding pressure on your skin.

He left your clit, sliding his tongue down your folds again until it reached your entrance again. You held yourself back from screaming when the tip of his tongue pushed through your folds, aiming to slide inside you. Your nipples tightened under the thin fabric of your tank top when you felt something fillind you, you were sure you had never been with someone that reached so deep in your core with just their tongue. Your eyes rolled to the back when it started moving, knowing exactly where it rubbed against to have your legs shaking and your stomach tightening with every move.

He was pushing you to the edge, and there was no point in holding back at that point.

Jungkook looked up at you, fighting your needs with no success. Your body was squirming to his touch, you were slowly surrendering to the pleasure he was giving you, and he was so close to completing the link that will keep you together. His lips went back to your clit, mouth open to take as much of you as he could before he went back to focusing on your button. Your high-pitched moans and the way your hands were tearing the sheets were the only things he needed to go on.

You were so close. So close to being completely his.

You went deaf for a few seconds, only able to be aware of your heartbeat and the exaggerated shapes of the lamp at the ceiling. You felt your back was going to break by the way you arched it as the orgasm fell all over you, feeling liquid for a hot second when your only worry was to enjoy every drop of the wave that had come over you and that made you lose control of yourself and your own moans.

When you were back to your senses, the blood that was almost boiling froze on the spot when you saw a human shadow next to yours. Looking back at the spot in front of you, you were met with nothing.

Your brain took a few seconds to proceed what was going on, moving fast to reach to the light switch and confirm you were indeed awake and alone in the room.

Everything that had happened was real, everything you felt actually happened and it wasn't a dream or something your mind made up. You remembered you were intrigued and having fun with the whole manifestation thing, but it was because you thought it would never be real. But realizing it was indeed real was a new shocker for you.

Through the rabbit of your eye, you spotted some dark marks on your thighs. You were able to tell those were the marks of the fingers you felt digging on your skin while you were fighting to feel more of him. Although it wasn't like a bruise. Your leg instinctively moved away as you moved the tip of your finger over the mark, the wound itched under your touch.

You bet your pulse was erratic by that point, finally aware of what you got yourself into, while also trying to find a way to get out of it.

After what happened the previous night, you weren't able to sleep. Not even with the lights on and some music blasting through your earphones. He was still in your mind, the itching pain made sure you wouldn't forget of him and how much control he had of your surroundings -and of you, although you didn't want to think of that.

You still felt curious through all the fear and horror. You wanted to know what he was exactly. Maybe you were putting yourself in the worst scenario. Maybe he wasn't an entity that was going to hurt you or aim wrong for you. You kept reminding yourself that you never heard of the entities you were supposedly manifesting for.

You settled everything, lit some candles and made sure your studio was completely dark by rolling the shades and getting the candles ready in the widest place in your studio -which belonged to the spot between your entrance and your small couch. It made you nervous to see your place like that, but you still walked ahead and sat amongst all those candles.

Finally taking off the necklace you'd been wearing for a few months now, you held it with two of your fingers, letting the red emerald float in the air -just like the video you watched instead of paying attention to your teacher.

You sighed, getting yourself ready for the explanation "I'll ask a question. If it's yes, just move the necklace like this" you moved the chain back and forward". If it's no, just move it like this" you moved the necklace in circles.

While you were waiting for whoever was with you to process the instructions, Jungkook looked at you, standing in front of you outside of the circle you had improvised.

"Are you here with me now?"

He took his time to answer, squatting in front of you and stretching his arm until the tip of his finger reached the emerald he had been in for centuries already. Holding it with two of his fingers only, he pulled from the stone gently and let go of it so it would move back and forward.

"Are you the one sending all those signals?"

Jungkook scoffed at that question. Who would be sending them if it weren't him?

After making the necklace move in a positive way, he admired your reaction. You gulped thick, and moved uncomfortable in your place while waiting for the necklace to stay still again.

"Are you the one that appears in my dreams?"

A smirk formed on his lips when he remembered the way he teased you while you were sleeping, giving you glimpses of him and what he had to offer, and how you were willing to give yourself to him in real life, too. Pulling again from the necklace, he made it give a positive answer.

He saw the way her hand trembled, and how it made it difficult for the chain to stay still for the next question.

Huffing and rolling his eyes, his palm covered yours, giving the necklace the stability it needed, but also putting you in a state you didn't need to be in either.

That thing was indeed there with you.

"Are you the manifestation I asked for?"

And like Jungkook had been asking that question since the very beginning, he made the emerald move in circles with joy, looking up to you almost instantly. Your lips started to tremble, and your pupils shook, unsure of where to look. You were frightened, and he was loving to see you like that, to know you were aware of how dangerous he actually was.

"What are you?" you sighed, remembering he wouldn't be able to answer that question.

After giving it a try to all the possible options you wished he was, and seeing the stone twirling on the spot, you felt the way your soul was leaving your body quietly. There was only one option, and you didn't want to say it out loud.

"Are you a demon?" your voice cracked in the middle of the question.

After waiting for a few minutes, he finally moved the emerald back and forward. And, the same way he loved playing with the people that had manifested him in the past, he played with you.

He blew out all the candles around you, leaving you in complete darkness, alone with him and your own fear.

"I bet you'll love seeing Red" he whispered. 

You all know there's already a fanfic called RED in my list, but it was paused because for several reasons I didn't like the way it was written and the route it took. So this is a small snippet to let you all know I'll be re-writing it.

#ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #kookie #one shot #reader insert #armpirate #smut #jk smut #jungkook smut #demon!JK

[val-cansalute]

PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———

ch. 1

ch. 2

ch. 3

ch. 4

ch. 5

ch. 6

a/n: short first chapter 🫤 also BORING AS FOCK but the next few will be longer and better, just stick with me cw: implied depression/ptsd, dark themes, not too heavy but please don’t read if this might trigger you, angst, no smut in this chapter but there might be some later on, creds to cafekitsune for dividers, MDNI 😡

Six months ago today, your gaunt figure limped through Jackson for the first time, arms scarred and trembling, and face adorned with a vacant expression. You’ve been here for a while now.

You heard Maria say, with time, you’d come out of your shell - actually speak to the others. But, no, you still stay holed up in your decaying room, recalling what happened that day obsessively, and only ever leaving to go on patrol. Only when you absolutely have to.

God, you don’t even know if you can call this grief anymore. Seems as though you built a nest in the sorrow. Would it still be considered missing him if you desperately want to stop seeing his face whenever you close your eyes.

Fuck, don't say that. Never say that.

Promise I still love you, big brother. Promise I'd do anything to see you again.

Well, nobody really pays you any mind; you just sink into the shadows of the shitty little apartment you've been put in. And it doesn’t matter to you because the thought of getting close to people again makes you sick anyway.

Never wanna feel this pain. Never again. Fuck, just go away, please.

I'm so sorry, Soren.

You’ve waited it out for months but, at this point, you've given up hope. Feels like maybe it’s time to go be on your own. You know it’s dumb, but you haven’t got much to live for now that he’s gone.

Late night, you crawl into the comfort of misery, chaining yourself to each painful memory; you cannot leave a single shard behind. Not one.

You will carry this with you for the rest of your days.

Somewhere along the line, dark fades to light and your mind goes blank for the first time in an eternity as you get up to follow that same routine.

Today, same as yesterday, and yesterday's yesterday, and yesterday's yesterday's yesterday, etc., etc., your partner is Ellie.

Maria seems to think the two of you are acquaintances, especially since the extroverted people around your age hadn't been able to drag much more than a few words out of you, but you don’t really talk, you stay out of each other’s ways.

You struggle to keep the smile up against the pushback of your aching cheeks when you’re talking to other people. Can never let them see.

Not even for a good reason. God, it’s just such an effort to talk about. It’s better for it to just nestle in your mind, where it’s made it’s home, where it’s comfortable.

Maybe part of why you stay out of each other’s ways is because you'd inadvertently come off as a dick during your first encounter, which would've been enough to push the already closed off Ellie to not interact with you at all. You weren't actually being rude though; she's hopefully figured that out at this point. She probably just got used to the interactions between you; silence dusted with passive aggressive remarks.

But, she doesn’t say much when you freak the fuck out if a clicker comes at you in a way that brings back memories. You’re grateful, regardless of her reason for doing so.

Perhaps it's the thought of leaving that is the spur to prick your sudden violence and, now, even you can tell you're getting worse. The feeling - it ensnares you like a bear trap when you see a clicker, so you fire frantically at its head. Blood splatters all over your front and you pull at the hem of your shirt to get a better look, mumbling, "Shit..." when you see the white fabric soaked through with the clicker's blood; cold water to the face.

Among the chaos, you must have turned on your foot weirdly, because your ankle feels like a stake has been stabbed right through it with each movement and you don’t know if you can walk.

Ellie finally manages to trace the sound of the gunshot to you after calling your name in worry for the past couple of minutes, running over to you. She pulls you around and looks over your jittery body for anything to worry about - brushes a thumb over the wet material, jerking it away before you can notice; you’re hyper aware, so you always manage to anyway - and then furrows her brows at you.

“Can you stop fucking around?”

You nod apologetically,

"Sorry. Feeling a bit out of it today..."

She sighs, still clearly angry, and turns away, "Let's go. We’re done here.”

You watch her figure retreat as you mount your horse with shaky footing. The ride back is a silent one. Once you reach the gates, you get off and pat the horse’s side. It has a name; you never cared to learn it. Maybe you knew you couldn’t stick around for long.

“Come on. Why are you just standing there?"

When your eyes meet hers, you feel utterly pathetic, but you don't have much of a choice.

“Can you… find, like, a stick? A big one...”

She stays quiet for a moment, seemingly thrown off by your question, so you're quick to add,

“I would do it but... I don't know, fuck, never mind...”

Ellie raises an eyebrow at you, her line of sight flicking down to your ankle as she takes note of your awkward stance and mutters with a sigh that makes you feel small, "Pain in the ass," before shaking her head.

"Yeah, it looks pretty bad," Ellie says after she crouches down and touches the wound, eliciting a pained wince (and a farewell to your last shred of dignity) from you.

She rises to her feet and brushes herself off as you wait for more of a response.

"Stick, right? You want a stick?"

You nod with a clenched jaw. She keeps looking down at you and the constant anticipation is starting to piss you off.

"No, you gonna ask for what you really need?" she says. "And drop the whole ‘tough guy’ act?"

You chuckle dryly, turning your eyes to the floor.

"You ever considered that maybe I actually am just a tough guy?"

“Ha ha,” she states in monotone, “Think you gave away the fact that you're not when you started crying over a twisted ankle," to which you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Uh, okay, nothing you just said was true, but, sure. Sure.”

“Yeah? Come over here and say that with some heart then, tough guy.”

You manage to take a few steps before falling.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought. Gonna need to be carried back," Ellie says.

“What about the big ass stick?”

“What is i-Fuck. Listen, even if that helps, which it won’t, you’d wreck your ankle even more and everyone’d be on my ass about it. So, quit talking and get over here," she says, reaching over to lift you off the floor.

You grimace jokingly, but Ellie doesn’t pick on the humorous nature of your words, “Oh. No piggyback?”

Ellie sighs, turning and crouching in front of you before you get on.

"I swear to god, you're infuriating," she sneers. "Now put your arms around my neck."

You’re acting slightly outside the confines of your silent, gloomy self again, and pretend to strangle her, “Since you asked so nicely.”

And you laugh at your own joke as you properly wrap your arms around her neck

"I'm glad you're having a good time; at least one of us is enjoying ourselves,” she grits out but you can hear the repressed smile in her voice.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

"Good. Now shut up and enjoy the ride." Ellie says before turning her gaze back to the front.

As the two of you make your way through the fairly empty paths of Jackson, Ellie remains silent, her expression unreadable.

You keep your eyes focused on her, the small puff of air that leaves her mouth with each step, and staying quiet as your chin finds itself resting casually upon her shoulder

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Ellie finally speaks up again. Her voice is so close, the warmth of her breath and heat.

“You got them girls off your ass yet?”

“Who? The ones that are trying to... befriend me?”

“Mhm, the ones that you’re kinda friends with.”

“Yeah, they quit trying.”

"Don’t blame you… I mean, I can understand, but don’t make it too obvious.”

“I’d rather not-“

“Right, it’s just- well, if you want to be alone, fine. I… can even… make sure those assholes don’t bother you, or whatever- but, not on patrol! Don’t go wandering around on your own like that ever again. It’s dumb."

“I know, I just got caught up in the moment. Sorry.”

"Good."

A heavy silence befalls the two of you as she trudges on.

"Why are you so damn heavy?" she eventually mutters.

You lift your head off her shoulder reflexively, aware of your weight pulling her down all of a sudden,

“Sorry.”

Ellie looks over her shoulder at you, her eyebrows knitted in unexpected concern,

“Hey… I was kidding.”

“Right… I knew that…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever," she says. "Hm, look at that, we made it," gently patting your thigh before pushing the doors open. "Time to get off."

You slowly slide off her back, making sure to land on your good leg as you watch her search the area curiously in a waiting, one-footed stance.

She returns after a second, picking you up to place you on top of one of the quaint, makeshift hospital beds before she begins rummaging through the supplies. You watch her muscles flex and then, the sight of a woman you'd seen around captures your focus.

"What happened to her?" the woman asks, causing Ellie to lift her head, looking down at you.

"Twisted my ankle."

"Well, obviously," her tone is laced with sarcasm. "My question was how you twisted your ankle."

"Turned weird."

Your response earns you a bemused raise of her blonde eyebrows, "Alright, whatever," she says, pulling up a chair and sitting before you.

After a short, boring while, she lets go of your leg and looks up at you again,

"So, you got a sprain. I'm gonna have to wrap your ankle up, alright?"

A lock of her hair continuously pesters her as she begins carefully tending to your ankle, pulling fresh bandages taut around the injury.

"It's gonna stay sensitive for a few days," the woman states, "And you shouldn't walk on it for at least a week."

She places a hand upon Ellie's shoulder, pulling her out of the deep-end of her thoughts, and turning her away from you. A muffled, but aggressive, hushed conversation ensues between them as you glance around the room restlessly, only making out the irritated tone of Ellie's responses. It ends with her pinching her nose bridge and mumbling a, "Fine," and they're facing you again.

The woman gives the two of you a nod before exiting the room,

"You two be safe out there."

“Alright. I’ll take you home. Now, get on," she turns, arms out, backpack on her front, as she waits for you to get onto her back again.

The route to your place is short and quiet as night blankets the world, or what’s left of it. Before you know it, she's pushing open the door and setting you down on yet another tattered bed - your own.

You hiss at the contact your ankle makes with the bed, but Ellie seems unfazed, patting your thigh in the same way she did before, the way that made your stomach twist,

“You gonna be okay?”

You nod, though her deadpan tone doesn’t leave much room for the honest truth.

“Alright, well… I’ll get going, then.”

There’s a stark contrast in life between her coming and going; the constant rustling of the fabric of her coat and the sound of her heavy winter boots against your creaky floorboards, the sound of her sniffles and low voice, and the flurry of gusts of nippy winds whistling - all shut out with the cold of the outside once she closes the door behind her. Well, most of it.

Now, you’re left with the bite of cold air and the deafening silence that haunts you as you sit still upon your mattress with darkness cast over the room, seeming to melt everything together.

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