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#she never contemplated it but this is her first reaction
deathfavor · 9 months
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Anonymous said: Kuroko, if you couldn't serve under Tatsuomi anymore but had to choose another grand general to work under, who would you prefer? What would your rankings look like?
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" One of the other grand generals? " Her lips press together in a slight frown of thought. There's many implication to her not being able to serve under him for some reason. She can think of a dozen right off the bat. But it isn't abnormal on occasion for one party to have to join another. Who would she prefer? That wasn't a question she'd ever contemplated.
" That is quite the question. " She doesn't have many direct interactions to pull from in regards to how she might work alongside them. " Perhaps Tsubasa Tokugawa? " Kuroko considers it for a moment. " I would be interested in learning how she approaches her role and how her band functions. I can respect her approach to matters, and while she is often firm in her standings, she is not immovable and can change her opinion or stance as new information comes into play. " So then, where did she go from there?
" Naotora Takeda next. I am familiar with working alongside him after all and he has been of vital help in the past. I appreciate his willingness to go along with my plans and work with me despite not being a member of his band. I think it would overall be fine between us. Third would be...Shishikado Hojo. His knowledge is unparalleled when it comes to Oni and it would be a valuable experience. That said...I am not particularly inclined to those customs. " Or a living castle. That and his sleeping would probably annoy her. " Last would be Soma Date. Not out of any dislike or disrespect. " It's a quick note that she adds as soon as the name has left her lips. " Merely that I feel like I would not be as useful to the Date as I would be to other groups, and I dislike the thought of simply being present and playing no role. It feels like freeloading. " It leaves an appalling taste in her mouth. " Perhaps if he said otherwise, I might adjust my ranking, but as a whole, the Dates are already extremely well trained and organized. " And while Kuroko was known for her strategies, they seemed to be flourish completely fine on their own.
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devinedoll · 21 days
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ok but imagine super pervy + gross best friend!rafe and reader hanging out on reader’s cutesy pink bed and he somehow convinces her to give him a kiss on the lips (her first kiss) but she makes him promise to keep his hands to himself cause they’re just best friends… we all know he can’t do such thing.
rafe’s almost embarrassed by the way he’s comforted by the ambience in your room. the soft lighting, the fuzzy blankets, the endless stuffies, rafe would deny it if you ever asked, but he loves it here.
he loves it almost as much as he loves the events occuring within it.
you look so small underneath him, the boy positioned over you with his head propped up on an elbow. you lay on your back, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your tube top under rafe’s intense gaze.
“just one kiss kid, y’gonna have to do it eventually” he comments, eyes raking up and down your body as you contemplate.
your swollen tits poke out the hemline of your top, and there’s a taunting sliver of skin between the end of the shirt and the top of your skirt. rafe studies the skin, he wants to lick it.
he wonders if you’re cold, because your nipples are hard beneath the white fabric. two little beads that make rafe’s mouth water.
you pull him out of his perverse trance with a childish mumble, “just a bit scared.”
he almost laughs, but he catches the sight of your glossy lip pulled between your teeth, and shelves the reaction, opting for a smirk instead, “s’really not even a big deal kid, c’mon… real quick?”
he should be ashamed at the way he’s playing you right now, belittling your fears in hopes of getting his hands on you. he’s not though. in fact, he’s rock hard next to you. silently wishing he could just pull your little skirt down, move your panties to the side, and give it to you hard and fast.
when you nod shyly, his cock twitches, but your small voice piping up to voice another concern, “just a kiss though, that’s all.”
he scoffs under his breath, but moves before you can clock it. he shifts onto his back, thick hands grabbing at your waist to pull you on top of him. your thighs straddle him, and he swears he can feel the heat of your pussy against his cock, “alright babydoll, now or never.”
you feel a calloused palm against the back of your neck, and the pressure of it pushing you down. you comply, now forehead to forehead with rafe cameron himself.
his lips press into yours gently. a slow, audible kiss that makes you tingle. you exhale slowly, warm air tickling his skin.
when you pull away, he’s smiling a lazy smirk, “see? wasn’t so hard. let’s try somethin’ else yeah?” he says, pulling you back into him.
he’s kissing you before you can obstruct, his hands sliding lower to grip your waist, and then your hips, and then your ass.
your mouth opens with a small gasp at the contact, and he uses this opportunity to slip his tongue in, groaning lowly when it glides against yours.
you wiggle hesitantly in his lap, but your mouth meshes with his nonetheless, he scoffs quietly, ��quit squirmin’. you like this shit, you know you do.”
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wtfsteveharrington · 29 days
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after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader
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summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.
contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn
reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!
word count: basically 3.9k
author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that
part two
★–————————–
Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors. 
“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?” 
Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago. 
“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off. 
“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.” 
He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there. 
Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?” 
“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.
Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.” 
And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him. 
———★–————————–
Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused. 
He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief. 
You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out? 
So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least. 
He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.
And there you are. 
Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off. 
“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”
Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.” 
Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too. 
His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream. 
Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him? 
Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess. 
Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone. 
Oh he’s so fucked. 
————–——★–————
Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.” 
He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late. 
Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work. 
He had to. 
Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen. 
You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?” 
You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.” 
Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.” 
And you laugh. 
You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions. 
“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now. 
And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today. 
He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems. 
It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg. 
And he stops looking there. 
Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them. 
Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away. 
God he just knows you’re a needy little thing. 
He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss. 
“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again. 
You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen. 
“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes. 
His cheeks are hot. 
Fuck is he blushing? 
He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot
You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you. 
Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you. 
Okay fine, it is. 
“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground. 
———————–★–———
Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop. 
So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor. 
He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up. 
The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different. 
“You good, Chef?” 
To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat. 
“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.” 
You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?” 
“Anything, Chef.” 
Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.” 
He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders. 
Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back. 
Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious. 
When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief? 
“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.” 
He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.” 
Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor. 
——————————★–
Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you. 
But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him. 
You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well. 
He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video. 
Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.
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idk if this counts for headcanon, but since Harveston event is here
How would boys react to their girlfriend casually walking by on the snow and then she takes next step the snow collapses and she gets stuck in the snow, her fohead bearly vissible above it, and she can't get out 😂? ( it's something that happend to me and it was hollirious to me and my familly)
for Idia, Jade, Sebek, Epel and since I have one more lets add Malleus (even though he isn't originally there 😂)
also ..if it's not a problem could I just ask if my previous asks made it in ? I was just wondering if I didn't submit them past the time when asks were open 😅
Epel Felmier:
Epel knows the perils of snow banks more than anyone, having to dig his way out of a few when he was younger. He’s still surprised to be on the other end of it, with you in view one second then gone the next. He seemed more panicked than you, the trapped, displaying snow as quickly as he could to lead you to freedom. He sighed in relief when he confirmed you were just fine, seeming nervous that you might not like the area as much because of the experience.
Idia Shroud:
Idia is immediately alarmed when he doesn’t feel you at his side, head whipping around as he wondered if you finally decided to break up with him and leave him in an icy tundra to deal with his feelings. When he looks down and sees you buried deep in the snow his panic gained more experience, leveling up as he already concluded you were suffering from hypothermia, never meant to feel the warmth of the sun again. He has enough sense to help you out, only greeted with your nonsensical question of what might happen if him and his hair were the ones buried in the snow.
Jade Leech:
Jade would check if you were okay, the grin on his face betraying his concerned tone. He wondered how dangerous snow could be, contemplating unnecessary questions like if someone could drown in snow if left there long enough or if the cold would get to them first. Once you’re safe he stated the cold isn’t that bad, and that it was good practice before he dragged you into the depths of the ocean (to meet his parents, of course).
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus at least showed enough care to pull you out of your icy prison before laughing at you. Thankfully, seeing a smile on his face and hearing his deep chuckle distracted you entirely from being embarrassed. You’d probably dive in headfirst again if you’d get the same reaction out of him. Malleus offered his arm, telling you to stick close as he didn’t want to lost you in another snow pile.
Sebek Zigvolt:
Sebek nearly looked you over but did a double take as snow shifted, calling your name in shock. He, no hesitation, reached into the snow to hoist you out, not even considering the use of magic. He proceeded to brush you off, pushing all snow to the ground until you looked fresh, like you had just walked outside. It was nice that he cared but you still felt embarrassed when he scolded you about watching your step.
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lemonlover1110 · 6 months
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 16] Justifications
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Mrs. Gojo’s first reaction to finding her son in the hospital room isn’t one of worry– Rather, she’s curious. She wonders if you told him; she doubts you’re dumb enough to actually tell him, but he got here somehow. Instead of wondering how he found out, she should worry about how she’ll explain everything to her son. She can’t just throw you under the bus… Well, she can but it wouldn’t be right for her to do so.
Satoru is sitting down, his hands on his knees as he looks around the room. He contemplates everything. He questions every single relationship that he has. Shoko knew, and his mother, but who else? How many people are betraying him? How many people know the fact that he has a son? 
The man is nauseous at the mere thought that they faced him as if they weren’t hiding something that could turn Satoru’s life upside down. He hears his mother’s heels as she walks towards him but he can’t bring himself to look up at her. He’s never had a close bond with his mother, and at times he’s hated her presence; but nothing compares to now. Satoru has never hated being her son until now. 
“Satoru.” She doesn’t try to soften her voice when she talks to him. She probably should. She feels the hatred that radiates off her son, and she knows that maybe she should console him. She’s mostly at fault for how things played out. “How did you end up here?”
“That’s what you say.” His voice breaks and he takes a deep breath to compose himself. He won’t start crying in front of his mother, she doesn’t have to know how heartbroken he is. She should have an idea though because it’s no easy feat. “You knew about my son, you hid him from me on purpose, you let me find out on my own and your response is that.”
She stays quiet. Satoru will continue speaking and she won’t interrupt until he lets it all out. “I always knew you weren’t a star mother, but this? You’re the worst mother I’ve come across. You hid my son from me, and for what? Because you didn’t want your ideal plans to go to the trash?”
“You’re almost twenty-seven and you act like a child. You wouldn’t have been able to step up to the role. I did what was best for you, and for Ren and his mother.” She argues and he feels his blood boil. He’s never been so mad in his life.
“I wouldn’t have been like you. I wouldn’t have thrown my son to the help and let them raise him. I’m nothing like you, I would’ve been able to step up to the role. Ren would’ve actually felt me being present, and I would’ve loved him as much as I possibly could.” Satoru’s nails dig into the fabric of his pants. “No one is ready to be a parent. You learn along the way. I would’ve and am going to try my best, the same way you should’ve.”
“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have your precious job title, Satoru. Watch how you talk to me.” She warns him, ignoring the guilt that runs through her veins. She focuses more on the fact that her son gives her attitude. 
“This is what you wanted! You didn’t tell me because you knew I’d give up everything for him. I knew you were fucked up but to this extent? You’re a wretched woman, I’m ashamed to call you my mother.” Satoru raises his voice, and silence follows. She doesn’t know how to answer. Satoru clears his throat, “For how long have you known? For how long have you known I have a son?”
“Almost a year.” She confesses, and maybe Satoru would’ve easily let it slide if it was something more recent. Well, she hired you for a reason, she’s known for as long as you’ve been working with her. Satoru takes a deep breath, trying his best to hold back the tears that fill up his eyes. 
“Shoko knows. She told me. Who else knows?” He asks, speaking slowly to contain his feelings. She shrugs, she doesn’t know who else knows. 
“I have no idea. I didn’t know Shoko knew.” She responds, walking over to stand next to Satoru. He glares at her, standing up. He can’t stand to breathe the same air as her for another moment. She watches him walk away and she asks, “What are you doing? Now is not the time to throw a tantrum.”
“A tantrum?! You hid my son from me and you’re calling this a tantrum?!” He yells. “You’ve known about my son for a year, you asked for him to be kept from me, and you’re calling this a tantrum? You’re fucking unbelievable. This is all your fault. You’ve been set on making me miserable ever since I was born.”
“Calm down, Satoru.” She says, and Satoru has to take another deep breath. He doesn’t even know how to respond to her. How dare she even suggest that? She must be out of her damn mind– No, she’s evil. He’s convinced she’s fucking evil.
“I’ll never forgive you for this. This is so fucked up, even for you.” Satoru steps out of the room. He needs a breath of fresh air, and he needs to take it all in. Gather his thoughts. 
He’s a father. He’s been one for the past four years. How does he handle it all? His mother betrayed him in the worst possible way. You betrayed him the worst possible way. But Satoru can somewhat understand why you stayed quiet. Not her though. Both reasons are selfish, but her selfishness is pure evil. 
“Satoru.” He hears your mother, and he stops walking. The tears that he’s been holding back finally slip out, and he wipes them away as your mother walks to him. Her hand goes to his arm and she squeezes it as a form of reassurance. “Let’s go grab a coffee, there’s a coffee shop nearby that’s open.”
“Yeah.” He tries to talk normally, and she gently smiles at him. They walk outside and Satoru follows your mother’s lead to the coffee shop. They walk in silence, and when they get there, Satoru pays for coffee for the both of them.
Once the coffee is in their hands, they sit in silence at a table. They came here to talk, yet Satoru is not going to spark up the conversation– At least Satoru assumes that they came here to talk. Your mother clears her throat, “I hope you can forgive my daughter for this… At the very least see her point of view.”
“I’ll try at the very least… I just thought she would try to tell me. I’m disappointed… and feel betrayed.” Satoru confides. He’s always felt like he could talk to your mother, she’s always been someone he can trust. He never went to his own mother for help, instead he went to yours. “I would’ve done anything for Ren, she knows I’ve always wanted to have a kid.”
“I remember the day my little girl called crying, telling me she was pregnant. Her boyfriend just broke up with her and she didn’t know how to tell him. You were out of town, your mother fired me– I told my daughter I quit, but it wasn’t that. Your mother didn’t want me around, she started hating me the moment my daughter started to date you,” Your mother begins and Satoru listens attentively. 
“She tried to tell you, Satoru. You changed your number. You completely cut her off. She went to your house, and guess what your mother said to my pregnant daughter?”
“That I got married.” Satoru mutters, looking away since he’s too ashamed to look her in the eye. 
“And you know the damage that caused? She cried for weeks, but she managed to move on. She couldn’t dwell on you forever because she had a son to be responsible for. Maybe she should’ve told you when she saw you, but I understand she didn’t need you anymore.” 
“I didn’t get married because–” Satoru begins but your mother cuts him off. She doesn’t want to hear any justifications, she really doesn’t see any response that will make her feelings change.
“I don’t care why the hell you got married. I was rooting for you, Satoru. I was rooting for the two of you, but you showed me that you’re just like your selfish entitled family. You made me change my mind, you’re the last person I want near my daughter and my grandson.” Her words sting more than anyone’s because the woman that sits across from him practically raised him. “But I guess I have no other option. You are Ren’s father.”
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, causing her brows to raise.
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” She answers before standing up. Satoru watches as she walks away, biting his quivering bottom lip. He shuts his eyes, trying not to begin crying in front of everyone. 
He’s tired. He should probably go home and take a nap, but he promised his son he’d be there when he wakes up. So he won’t leave until Ren sees him. Satoru stands up and goes back to the hospital.
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You don’t talk to each other when you’re with Ren. Ren is filled with love, from both of his parents and grandmothers. He’s never been with them all at the same time, and he’s excited to be with them all even when he isn’t feeling too well. His father seems to have a lot of questions though, but Ren likes the attention.
Ren gets to talk about his birthday (which surprises Satoru since they have the same birthday), his favorite color, his favorite show, his favorite toys, what he does when mommy is not home, what he does when mommy is home; Satoru tries to get to know all about Ren in a couple hours to make up for the past four years of his life. Satoru is overwhelmed with sadness, yet he’s never felt so happy before as he sits on an armchair, next to his baby boy. Ren holds his father’s hand, smiling when he’s never felt worse before. He’s just happy to meet the man that he’s been asking about.
Satoru spends the entire afternoon there, listening to Ren’s every request. He expected to spend the first day with his son in the hospital but not under these conditions. Regardless, Ren could be a newborn or a four-year-old, Satoru loves him either way. 
Ren yawns, and Satoru sheepishly smiles. He kisses the top of his son’s head. “How about you go to bed, buddy? You’re tired.”
“I don’t want you to go.” Ren says, and Satoru squeezes his hand. You swear you hear your heart break as you hear Ren’s words. You definitely fucked up.
“I’m not leaving, Ren. I’ll be by your side when you wake up, I promise.” Satoru assures him, and the man stays by his side until Ren finally falls asleep. Satoru doesn’t let go of Ren’s hand. You sit in silence for a moment as you try to decide what you’ll do next. Should you speak? Maybe you should… But what should you say? Maybe you should apologize, but you don’t have the guts to do it. 
“Who else knows?” Satoru whispers, not wanting to wake Ren up. He doubts that Ren will be waking up any time soon though, no matter how loud he is.
“Shoko and Suguru. And everyone that works at your house.” You answer. “I asked them not to tell, and I lied to Suguru so don’t be mad at them.”
“Did you… At least try to argue with my mother about telling me?” He hopes that you’ll say yes, so at the very least he can feel like you care about his feelings. He wants to hear that you tried a bit more. He’s filled with disappointment when you shake your head. He looks away from you, and back at Ren.
“How are you going to tell your wife?” You ask, and Satoru shrugs. That isn’t his main problem right now. Sayo can wait.
1K notes · View notes
gracieheartspedro · 7 months
Text
Trash Talk
abby anderson x fem!reader
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description: you and abby anderson go waaayyy back, and she can't stand you. after being distant for years, you can't help but pick on her and get under her skin. you can't help yourself. maybe it's those god damn arms and that cute smile she makes sometimes. so, why not try to bully her enough so she will take you to bed?
word count: 7.1k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, threatening of one's life, murder (reader kills scars), use of guns, dom!abby, fingering, eating out, shower sex, use of a strap on, dirty talk, abby calls reader tons of names, major teasing!!
author's note: first abby one shot. let's goooo! lemme know what you guys think. I really liked writing this and I'm down for any requests for abby or ellie!! love you guysssss <3
“Are you the one braiding your hair every day or do you have some pretty girl do it for you?”
Abby’s head spun over how dumb your questions had been all afternoon. Luckily for her, you were being quiet up until this moment. 
You are propped up beside her on the back of the jeep, your rifle slung across your lap. You were itching to get a rise out her today, it was fun to watch her eyes roll into the back of her head. 
She cocks her gun, her eyes trained forward and away from you. She’s always on edge when you’re out on patrol. Her furrowed eyebrows and tense shoulders made your relaxed and at ease body language look unjustified. 
“I braid it myself,” Is all she says. You train your eyes to watch her muscles flex as she inspects her gun closely. You contemplate your answer, do you ask if she can braid yours next or do you ask if that’s how she got those insane arms of hers. 
You don’t make a decision by the time Manny slams on the breaks, unexpectedly. Abby’s body flies into yours, sliding across the bench and crashing into your side. You wince, snapping your head forward to the road. 
“We got company, chicas!”
You duck when the first shot hits the steel of the car. Abby grabs your waist, dragging you down onto the bed of the SUV. She didn’t want your death on her hands, knowing Isaac would never forgive her for losing his best gunner. You roll away from her grasp, propping your rifle forward where Manny is driving. 
Scars on horseback surround the road in front of you. 
They are easy to take out when they are high up, for you at least. 
“Manny, duck your head!” You holler, glancing back at Abby who’s hand is still somehow on you. She looks conflicted, her gun still loosely in her grip. 
You prop your gun up, aiming at a older man on the closest horse trailing the jeep. He has a bow, which doesn’t move as fast as your bullet. You ease into the trigger, taking out the guy with a head shot. You didn’t have time to think about your reasonings for killing the guy, you never had the time to think about it. You knew that these men would kill Manny, Abby, and you, if they had the chance, so you guess the proper reaction is a bullet to the skull. 
You hear Abby yelling something but your ears are ringing at the sound of you taking out each Scar one-by-one. You don’t even let them get behind the SUV, knowing they would be getting a better shot at you. Once the last one flies off the back of their horse at the impact of your bullet, you sit up. 
You realize that Abby hasn’t fired a single shot. 
“I think we have a flat tire! I’m gonna pull off when I find cover,” Manny explains, his voice loud over the sound of the ringing in your ears. 
Abby sits up beside you, gripping the side of the bench with her left hand. She gets a good look at your completely unfazed face and it pisses her off. You never had a moment to second guess your actions and you never had an honest reaction to killing upward of 7 men. You were always stone cold and even. You weren’t always like that. You used to have some life left in your steely eyes. At least, that’s what she thought. 
You were disassociated from the entire world when put in any situation that could be deemed “dangerous”. It’s almost like a completely different person took over your body. Your reactions were not your own. But when you finally came to, your bones would vibrate with anxiety and adrenaline. You were just a master at disguising it because you didn’t want everyone around you to see you as weak. You can never be weak, again. 
Even if Abby took out that many men, which she has done before, she still walks away with a small inkling of guilt written on her face. You don’t even quiver at the sight of violence and death, not that she sees, anyway. 
But it does eat away at you. You’re plagued with nightmares if you can ever even find sleep at night. Most nights are spent curled into a ball, staring off into space, praying the walls will just cave in and suffocate you. You hardly eat most of the time, the thought of munching on food makes you nauseous. 
Manny pulls into a familiar warehouse that’s usually a stopping point for one of your patrol routes. The jeep is jittering, chugging forward with a scraping noise. You stand up when it completely stops, jumping down from the side. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and your gun strap across your other.
You watch Abby jump down after you, her impact on the ground loud. She stares at you with this annoyed look on her face. 
“What’s wrong, baby girl? Mad you didn’t get a shot off?”
Your tone makes her ball her hands into fists.
“Can you shut your fucking mouth ever?”
Manny chirps in quickly after she says it, “Ay! Quit it you two!”
You bow your head, “Yeah, Abby. You need to blow off some steam. Gettin’ all worked up.”
Manny slaps your shoulder lightly, gesturing you two to get inside the warehouse. You knew you had to clear it before you settled in to discuss the next game plan. You stand there watching Abby strut towards you, her eyes scanning your body up and down. 
She is only a little bit taller than you, but she’s built like an ox. When you two were acquainted, she was about your stature. Now that she needs to prove herself, she bulked up and became even more hot. 
“You’re lucky Isaac needs your ass, because if were up to me, I’d send you straight to the Island and watch them pick you apart.”
Her voice is vicious and you could tell she was pissed at you for teasing her. It only made you smile in sick pleasure. You craved getting under her skin. 
“Love it when you talk dirty to me, Abs.”
She ignores your comment, knowing exactly what you were trying to do. You were doing it so well, too. 
You three creep inside the warehouse, stalking around the open area, ensuring there’s no one nearby to sneak up on you. Your running low on ammo, but you didn’t want to ask Abby for a new magazine. She would bitch you out for not grabbing an extra. With that in mind, you sling your rifle across your back and pull out your pistol. You cock it, which interupts the silence you three had been settling in. 
“A pistol?” Manny questions, quietly. You nod slowly, discharging the magazine to make sure you had a stacked shell. 
You huff, “Yeah, I’m out of hallow points for the rifle.”
Abby stops in her tracks, “You forgot another magazine, didn’t you?”
She wanted so badly to be right, especially when it came to you fucking up. You stare at her as you shove the magazine back into the grip. 
“Eat my ass, Abby.”
She laughs, watching your face fall as you cock the gun again. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Manny grimaces, “Please, stop, you two. Let’s get this place clear and then figure out what we do next.”
Manny was right. You and Abby separate, both of you trailing up some stairs to the extended area of the warehouse. You check every corner on your side, ensuring no one will be sneaky and catch you all off guard. Once you all decide it’s clear, you meet up at the staircase Manny is walking down.
Manny was a good friend and a rare hookup. You had slept with him a couple times and while he was always a generous guy, he never made you cum. He always joked that it was because you liked girls better, and truthfully, he may be right. He was handsome but he never really did it for you. 
Abby, on the other hand, you and her went way back and she did it for you. Before becoming Isaac’s favorite, you were pretty good friends with her. You two sat together in “school” and she taught you how to make someone pass out by putting them in a headlock. You had confided in her about your past and she was the only one who truly knew everything. You genuinely liked her and wanted so badly to tell her how you felt. But once Isaac took interest in your skill set, he trained you vigorously with his top men. You had no time for anything anymore. It pissed Abby off so much, for some odd reason. You’d think a friend would be proud that the head honcho took interest in you and wanted to make you better. But instead, Abby took it as a personal jab and started ignoring you. When you confronted her, she told you that she was too busy for friends. That, of course, didn’t stop her from having a whole ass friend group without you. When you befriended Manny, he told you that Abby only saw you as competition. 
So you became even better. Not wanting to repeat the same mistake, you kept everyone at an arms length and avoided getting close with anyone. It made you withdrawn, and eventually, you realized you were not meant to be a friend to anyone. You were made to be a killer.  
“So what do we do now? Go back or go to our assigned checkpoint?”
Abby’s training her eyes on Manny and Manny only. She refuses to even glance your direction. You turn your gun safety on and tuck it into your waistband. 
“How far do you think we are from the checkpoint?” You question, crossing your arms across your chest. 
“Too fuckin’ far,” Abby responds, still not looking at you.
You smirk, “Perfect, then let’s do that. Maybe Abby can get her finger on a trigge-“
Before you can finish your sentence, Abby’s reaching out and pulling your body towards her by your shirt. You don’t even flinch, your body just flies forward as she finally stares daggers into you. You like being this close to her, it makes the hair on your arms stand up. 
“I swear to God,” She’s gritting her teeth, “If you don’t stop fucking around, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
You press yourself closer to her. Her fist with your balled up shirt grazes your boobs. Manny doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes, anticipating your response. You like this game. The one where you tease Abby and she becomes enraged by your words and eventually it comes to a tipping point. She’s always just thrown something, her manhandling you was new.  
“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” You mutter, your face millimeters from hers, “I don’t think you’re remembering what our body counts are and who’s surpassing the other by a fucking landslide.”
“I’d love to add you to mine, that’s for damn sure,” She responds quickly, eager to one up you. You giggle at the double meaning that comes to mind. You would like to be on her body count list, for sure.
“Stop it!”
You both shoot a look at Manny who’s nudging you two apart. Abby unhands your shirt, and you step backward away from her, tripping a bit over some broken concrete. She looks you up and down with disgust. 
“You need to stop acting like you’re better than everyone else,” She grumbles, ignoring Manny’s pleas for a truce. 
“You need to stop acting so serious all the time! Get a grip, I’m just fuckin’ with you.”
“I said stop! I knew you guys hated one another but I didn’t know this was gonna be a who’s dick is bigger competition. You both need to relax!”
Abby’s face is twisted and you hated that you found it attractive. God, you wanted to fucking hate her. 
Abby crosses her arms, flexing them right in front of you. She notices your expression change. She knew you had a little crush before, but she thought that feeling was long gone. She shoves the small inkling of optimism that you may still feel that way down.
Manny speaks up again, “We should just head back and tell Isaac we will head back out tomorrow morning. It’s going to be dark in about an hour. It’s too risky.”
“Agreed,” Abby tightens up her folded arms, “If you wanna go out by yourself, you can do that. We can tell Isaac you went awol.”
You smirk at her suggestion, “No, I want to be there to tell him you can’t pull your punches. Be way more satisfying to watch you squirm.”
-
“I’m glad everyone was okay,” Isaac says, his deep voice dropping an octave, “I’ll get more guys to go with you tomorrow morning. You three get back here at sunrise, okay?”
You clear your throat, “Want me to run through how to shoot a gun with Abby before we ship out?”
Manny huffs, “Come on, dude.”
“I think she’d benefit from it,” You say matter-of-factly to Isaac. You can feel Abby’s gaze burning into you. She’s leaning against the door frame, while you are seated in front of Isaac’s sprawling desk. You always felt like he only sat there to seem more authoritative. To you, he was just a man. 
“Play nice, little one,” He stands up from his rolling chair to stand in front of your manspreaded legs, “You still need to prove to me that you’re loyal. Don’t think I forgot about the incident at the hospital last week.”
Your stomach drops while Abby’s ears perk up.
“What happened at the hospital last week?”
Her voice is eager, which only makes you angrier. You adjust yourself in your seat, sitting up straighter. 
“She refused to kill a Scar,” He explains, teetering over you, “She shot a Wolf instead.”
“He demanded I gut a child in front of her mother. I am not going to do shit like that.”
Isaac chuckles before slamming his fist down on the table beside him, “You can and you fuckin’ will. If I get any more push back from you, I’ll get Anderson here to take you out herself.”
You stand up quickly, avoiding everyone’s gazes. You want to throw your knife into his throat, but you know that wouldn’t end well. You didn’t want to have to be on the run again.
Being humiliated in front of Abby and Manny made you feel sick. You hadn’t felt shame in so long, not even when you were reprimanded last week for shooting that guy between the eyes. You were lucky he was just some new recruit and had no family back at the Stadium. Isaac spared you because he needs you. You’re a good asset. 
“We clear?” 
His voice bounces off the wall. You don’t say anything, you just nod slightly and storm out of the office. You hear the door slam behind you as you swiftly walk towards the staircase. There’s men loitering in the hallway, waiting for Isaac to tell them to go kill another Scar. Pathetic, you thought. 
You start to think about how didn’t want to face Abby and Manny tomorrow, but you knew better to ignore direct orders. Maybe a shower would rinse off the disgusting dirty feeling that plagued your skin. 
-
“Didn’t know I was workin’ with a traitor today,” Abby says from behind you. You’re in the community bathrooms, cursing that it’s even a thing because you knew some shit like this would happen. You thought since it was midnight, you wouldn’t have any company. You were, of course, wrong. 
Abby has her towel draped over her broad shoulder and a small container with her soaps. You were just about to strip down and take one of the spickets on the tiled wall when she interrupts your routine.
You swallow hard, not in the mood to argue with her. Even if there’s no one around, you don’t feel like entertaining anymore.
“‘M not a traitor. I just don’t kill children.” 
You had very limited morals, but you drew the line at children. You remember what it was like to watch your friends get picked off by raiders when you were a kid. You remember being horrified hearing the screams of their mothers. You remember the innocence being stripped from you. You can’t stomach the idea of killing someone who has no control over their life or the decisions of others, so you don’t. 
Isaac showed no mercy to any Scar, but you did and he was trying his very hardest to beat that out of you. The only reason you were stuck on the patrol with Manny and Abby in the first place was because he knocked you down to more minor runs and not the intense ones you were on before. It was your “punishment” for disrespecting authority. You were lucky to even have your head after killing that guy in front of other Wolves. 
Abby grumbles something inaudible. 
“You remember when we were forced to watch those daycare kids after not doing our morning mile?” You reflect, thinking back to easier times with Abby, “Imagine one of those innocent kids being gutted by a machete and it’s your own hand doing it. If a child is going to die in the name of some stupid land, I don’t want to be the one holding the weapon. Isaac can have sociopaths like you to do that.”
“Me? The sociopath? If I’m remembering correctly, they gave you the nickname Heartless after your run through on the East side a couple months ago,” Abby’s voice is venmous, “You are the top Scar killer right now. You kill and you don’t even flinch.”
“I kill people who try to kill me,” You grab the hem of your top, pulling it over your head, “I need to protect myself. And whoever I’m with. I’m not given a choice.”
“Was that guy trying to kill you? The one you shot between the eyes?”
You’re silent. She poses a good question, a question you don’t have a good answer for. You turn to face her, and the first thing you realize is her braid is becoming unraveled. You purse your lips, racking your brain for a response after being distracted. The only rebuttal is a question, something that has eaten you alive ever since it started.
“Why do you hate me so fuckin’ much?” 
She cocks her head to the side, “Are you serious right now?”
Deep down, Abby never hated you. She was jealous of you. She wanted everything you had. She couldn’t stand seeing someone be better than her, especially a girl she liked. And you did everything so well. She harbored a secret crush on you for a while, even when she was with Owen. She hated that she liked you and you were leaving her behind to advance up the ranks. She only wanted your attention, truthfully. Now, since she distanced herself from you, everything you did ate her alive. While poking fun at her was your way of flirting, Abby reeled over it every night before bed. How could you be so mean?
“We were friends, Abby. I told you about my family. I told you everything, and as soon as I got in with Isaac, you iced me out. Told me you didn’t need friends,” You huff out, “I knew that was a lie then and I know it’s a fuckin’ lie now because you have friends. Lots of them. Why couldn’t I be your friend?”
“Because I can’t be friends with you!”
Her voice is high pitched, almost shaky. You take a step forward and for once she doesn’t step away from you. You’re in her space, your hip bone millimeters from her hands. Your eyes are trained on her reaction, which is just her eyes averting away from you. 
“Why can’t we be friends, Abs?”
You reach up, grabbing her messy braid softly. She flinches a bit, easing into the idea of you touching her. It’s been a long time since you were this close to her without her resisting. She still won’t look you in the eyes. Your fingers travel down her mousey braid until you’re trailing her collarbone and wide shoulders. As your digits trace her bicep, she finally looks at you for a moment. The tension is palpable, your question still hanging in the air. 
“You’re impossible,” She murmurs, her eyes flicking away again, “And you’re despicable. You think you’re bett-”
“Cut the shit,” Your hand stops right at her wrist and you wrap your much smaller hand around it. You know the real reason she won’t be your friend, it’s written all over her face, “You hate me because you want me, Abby. You always have. Almost as much as I want you.”
“Want is a strong word,” She chirps, “I was in a relationship when we were friends. I had Ow-”
“Don’t even say his fuckin’ name,” Your free hand tilts her head back toward your gaze. You hated that fucker for messing with your Abby, “Can you just indulge me? Admit that the reason you’re pissy with me is because you want me between your legs?”
You can feel her tense up, her jaw going slack. 
“Nah, don’t think that’s what I want,” Her voice finally changes. It’s more sultry, the tone shifting with the conversation. She shakes out of your grip, bringing her hand up to your chin, “Think I need to teach you a thing or two. Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, you’ve been a fuckin’ bitch and you need to be taught a lesson,” Hearing the words come out her mouth has your core clenching with anticipation. She’s silent waiting for you to agree, but you just stare at her with a smirk. “Do you need me to show you here or do you want me to show you in your room?”
“Why not yours?”
“Because Manny is there. Unless you want to give him a show like the slut I know you are.”
She makes the hair on your arms stand up. She scans your body as you contemplate your options. This is a moment you’d been waiting for, so you can’t fuck it up. You finally have her exactly where you want her. 
You can’t be caked in dirt and grime when she’s devouring you, right?
“I need a shower,” You mutter. It catches her off guard. You swallow before continuing, “I think you need one, too. So, how about we take our showers and then you can walk me back to my room.”
She doesn’t even say anything, just begins stripping off her tank top. She’s sporting a black sports bra underneath and my God, does she look good in only a bra. You have seen her in a bra before, but never with a six pack and huge arms like she has now. She smiles at your gawking. She shoves off her cargo pants, leaving her just in her underwear and bra. 
You finally come to your senses and start stripping as she walks over to one of the shower heads and turns it on. She looks excellent from the back, too, you think. 
“We don’t have all night,” She groans, watching you slowly start undoing your bra, “Hurry up before I change my mind.”
You walk towards the shower head next to the one that’s running for her. She pulls the hem of her bra up and off, revealing her full chest to you. You follow her lead, undoing the back of your bra and letting your breasts free. The water is soaking your feet and you still have your underwear on. It’s almost like a competition as to who can break first and touch the other, and it wasn’t going to be you. You shimmy your underwear off, tossing both your bra and panties to the pile outside of the shower. 
“Jesus Christ,” She howls as you let the water take over your body. Her eyes are glued to your chest, “It’s like they got bigger.”
You sneer at her comment, “I could say the same about you in general.”
“Yeah?” She slips off her underwear, leaving nothing to imagination anymore. She caves first, creeping into your stream of hot water with you and wrapping her large arms around your waist. Chills shoot up every part of your body when her lips dip down to leave open mouth kisses on your shoulder blade. Her hands trail upward from your hips to your stomach to your tits. You watch in disbelief when her massive hands take up most of your boobs. She cradles them in her palms before massaging you tenderly. You’re already a moaning mess, pushing your ass into her crotch. 
“Let’s get you clean since that’s what you want,” She drops your boobs before reaching out for her soap. She starts to lather herself up before her hands return to your buzzing body. You let her hands wander, coating you in her pine soap. You didn’t care for the scent, but it smelled like her and you always wanted that scent on your body. 
She manhandles you a bit before using your arm to twist you around to face her. She’s staring down at you, her pupils dark with desire. You realize her hair is still in a braid and resting on her bare shoulder. While she continues to rub you down, you grab the end of her braid and start to undo it. 
When her wavy hair is released from the hair tie, you realize how long it is now. No wonder she keeps it braided, it must get in her way. 
“May need to rebraid your hair,” You mutter, your hand still dancing around her decolletage.
“I’ll just have you hold it up while I eat you out.”
You smirk as she focuses her attention on pinching and tugging on your hard nipples. You ogle her, unsure how you got here. Earlier she was threatening to kill you, now she’s toying with your body and leaving you the wettest you’ve ever been. She backs you into the water, having you rinse off the suds. 
“Abby,” You finally catch her gaze and her lips are pursed in concentration. She looks at your expression and then it finally happens. She kisses you, feverishly. You almost slip on the wet floor as she aggressively pushes you back against the tiled wall. Luckily, her arm is completely enveloping your hip, keeping you stable against her. Your bodies are wet and burning with desire, eager to touch every inch of each other. Abby pulls away, catching her breath. 
“We need to speed this part up, I need to fuck you.”
You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her neck, “We are having fun though, aren’t we?”
She shakes her head, “Rinse yourself off, no more back talk.”
She pulls away from you, quickly showering herself. You don’t even wash your hair like you need to, you just watch her lather her body up, slowly circling your clit with your middle and pointer finger. She does not even realize what you’re doing until you are moaning in her direction. 
“You’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”
She pulls your hand away from your sensitive nub, using you as leverage when she gets on her knees. She’s staring up at you, pulling you forward by your ass. She looks too good at this angle. 
“Please, Abby,” You beg, wanting her to devour you whole.
“Hold my hair, baby. Just like I said.”
She nudges your knees apart, her face centimeters from your dripping core. She uses her long fingers to spread apart your pussy lips, soaking in the fact that she was the one who made you this wet. You reach down, pulling her long locks upward to get them off her shoulders. When she creeps in closer, her tongue is extended outward. As soon as it makes contact with your slit, you throw your head back, your hand full of hair loosening. She works her tongue around your pussy, pressing forward even more. She has her full face in you, her nose poking your clit every time she moves her tongue and lips. 
You’ve never been eaten out like this before. She’s a starved woman, begging you to feed her your sweet juices. Your knees feel like they could give out at any moment, so you grip onto her shoulder to balance yourself. She’s switching between slurping and sucking, her mouth working magic on your senstive pussy. 
Just when you think her head can’t get any better, her fingers enter the equation. She slips her long fingers between your slit, finding your hole after exploring for a moment. She guides one finger into you, then two. She’s groaning into you, watching your body twitch under her touch. She’s fucking you so fast, you can feel yourself teetering over the edge. She switches up her moves, flicking her tongue on your clit and fucking you slower. It sends you into bliss, your mouth agape as you stare down at her pressed against your core. You cry out, trying your best not to let your legs surrender to your weight.
“Yes baby,” She watches you fall apart, her finger tips swiping over your clit fast, “That’s right, cumming apart on my tongue. That’s so hot.”
Your vision is hazy, but you can still make out Abby as she stands up. Her hands rest on your waist as she brings you into a ravenous kiss. You’re still in a daze from your orgasm as she shuts off the warm water behind you. She’s guiding you out of the showers, bringing you back to your clothes and towel. She helps you by wrapping your towel around your center.
“You okay to walk back to your room?” She questions, watching you shakingly dry yourself off. 
You chuckle a bit, “Why? Do you want to carry me or something?”
She gives you a smug look, “Do you need me to?”
You want to smack the expression clear off her face. The freckles that litter her face scrunch in a teasing manner, which makes you melt a bit. You continue drying off before you throw back on your pants and shirt. You would be taking them off within the next two minutes, anyway, but you had to make it through the main hallways. 
Abby does the same thing before she gathers all her belongings and waits for you. As you rake your fingers through your hair, she jokingly starts tapping her foot.
“Can you relax?”
She shakes her head “no”. You roll your eyes, grabbing all your things and leading the way to your room. 
Abby knew your room would be better because you were graced with a room all by yourself. Courtesy of being Isaac’s top dog. 
You were vigilant about keeping a clean suite, always making sure your limited belongings had a place. You did not have people in your room often, so you were a bit nervous to have Abby Anderson in your room. 
She trails behind you closely, grunting every so often to indicate her impatience. Once you're outside your room, you unlock it with the key around your neck. It was easier to keep it on your chain, you hated stuffing your pockets with loose items. 
The cold air hits your skin. You were known for keeping a cold room. You always ran hot at night and you refused to sweat. When Abby walks into your suite, she starts to laugh. You lay down your towel and undergarments. 
“What’s so funny?” You ask, your wet hair sticking to your shoulders.
“You haven’t changed at all,” She grumbles, tossing her stuff in a pile beside your front door. The comment takes you off guard, simply because you spent years trying to be someone different.
“Why do you think that?”
“You are still so Type A,” She’s bounding towards you, stopping centimeters from your still-orgasm-dazed body, “You always run hot. It’s fuckin’ freezing in here.”
She’s cowering over you, her hot breath getting closer to your face. Before she can kiss you, she averts her head to the crook of your neck. 
“You still smell of lavender,” She kisses your pulse point before continuing, “And you need attention or else you’ll die. You thrive off pissing everyone off.”
“Especially you,” You practically moan as she continues to kiss your throat. When you say that, she lifts her head and stares down at you. She’s so symmetrical and beautiful. You loved seeing every freckle, every wrinkle of her nose. The fullness of her pink lips. 
“Especially me, that’s right.”
She pulls you in again, this time using her large hands to push your ass forward, capturing your lips as you melt into her grip. You move fluidly with her direction, peeling off your clothes again and frenching her when her lips slip open. Your tongues battle but you fully submit when she slowly bites down. She’s hungry for more.
You grab onto her forearms, tugging her towards your full size bed in the corner of the room. 
You always kept your blinds drawn, not allowing the large windows to expose your personal space. You’re silently thanking the angels for your obsessiveness because if someone spotted you and Abby right now, it would somehow get back to Isaac. He would have a cow if he found you two messing around. That’s too much of a distraction and you need to focus on the “mission”. 
Well, right now your mission is to make Abby cum.
You two fall on the bed, her hands still resting on the curve of your ass. She groans when you pull away from her lips. You tug at her shirt, gesturing to her to rid herself of her clothes. She obliges and she’s finally naked in your bed. You could die happy. 
You were too caught up in her touching you earlier, now you want to feel her. When the cold air touches her nipples, you notice them stand at attention. You practically fall into her chest, latching your mouth onto her tits, sucking the skin. She moans out, her hips reacting by pressing forward into you. You swirl your wet tongue around her areola, teasing her sensitive nipples. 
“God damn,” She whimpers, her hands exploring your hips. You use your teeth, nibbling slightly as you pull away from her one boob. She falls onto her back, releasing you from her grip. You crawl on top of her, straddling her waist with your thighs. You press your slick entrance on top of her mound, dragging it back and forth, teasing her. 
“You want me to touch your pretty pussy with my mouth?” You ask, resting your hands on her abs. She was so built, just tracing the outline of her 6-pack made you quiver. 
“God yes.”
Her voice is deeper, her pleasure taking over her vocal chords. You grind down on her before you shimmy down her legs and settle between her thighs. You lay on your tummy, lining up your face with her middle. 
She’s dripping, her entrance waiting for your fingers and mouth. You loved returning the favor, especially for women. You got off on hearing a woman chant your name as you alternate between licking and sucking. It would always boost your ego, but now that it’s Abby in your bed? You’ll be satisfied if she’s the last one to ever get in bed with you. 
She talked a big game about “teaching you a lesson” but here you are, shoving your fingers deep inside her and fucking her with your tongue. You smirk at the thought, watching her face twist in delight. You swirl your tongue around her sensitive throbbing clit. You were fed off her reactions, your eagerness to make her feel good increasing the more she cried out. 
You wrap your lips around her clit as you’re three fingers deep, fucking her steadily. As soon as you start the suction on her pussy, Abby is falling apart on your face. It’s a quick reaction, which gives you a bit of an ego boost. You watch her stomach flex, her jaw clench, and her mouth let out a guttural moan. 
Once she catches her breath, you slide off the bed, heading to your side table. You open the drawer, searching for the one thing that Abby could use to teach you a lesson. 
You pull out the black strap on you found a couple months ago at an abandoned sex store downtown. You haven’t used it yet, but you did make the effort to clean it before you tucked it away. This seemed like the perfect time for it to shine. 
You show Abby, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She snatches it from you, giggling as she stands up. 
“It’s like putting underwear,” You explain as she messes with the strap. It was like a thong with a dick attached. Very advanced technology.
“It’s perfect,” She whispers, sliding it over her massively thick thighs. Once she gets it on, it’s kind of silly to look at. Seeing Abby with a massive cock made you chuckle, but instead of following your reaction, it’s like it gave her a newfound attitude. 
It’s like a switch goes off. Instead of slowing down after an orgasm, like you, she manhandles you and grabs your biceps. She tows you up to her naked body before she pins you down to the bed. She plants herself like a tree between your legs, the large silicone dick nudging your inner thighs. You still can see her glistening core through the straps. 
“I need to watch you come apart again,” She explains as she holds the cock in her hand, “Wanna watch you cum over and over again.”
Her hair is messily over her shoulders, so when she leans down to stare down at the dick sliding between your folds, it falls in her face. She tucks it behind her ears, but it still drifts down her chest. You circle your hips, sighing at the feeling of the ridges of the dildo against your sensitivity. 
“Fuckin’ hair,” She fusses. You giggle a bit, watching her throw it back over her shoulders. You nudge her shoulder, using some force to pull her over your body. She leans down, her hair falling onto your face. 
“I’ll hold it for you, just make me feel good,” You murmur, using both hands to gather her hair. She gasps as you tug on her locks. You use some of the leverage you have to position her even closer to you. She reaches between your bodies and coats the cock in your slick. As soon as she teases your entrance with it, you pull her hair back. It sends her over the edge as she eases the dick inside you. It hurts a bit, so when she draws back you tell her to coat it in her saliva. She does what she’s told, spitting into her free hand a couple times and covering the appendage with it. 
Once she eases in again, the stretch feels better with the lubrication. Your thighs want to clench so bad, but the way she’s resting on you, you have no way to. She draws in and out of your pussy, grunting at the impact. 
It feels so good, but part of you wishes you just had her beautifully long fingers inside you. 
She moves your hands away from her hair and throws her head back, tossing her blond hair back. She props your legs up, plowing into you. You’re crying out, your ears ringing with the sound of your own heartbeat. 
“God, I need you to cum, baby,” She mumbles, kissing your knee as your body starts to vibrate. The cock is hitting you in all the right spots, but you need more. You reach down, using the pads of your fingers to stimulate your clit.
“Please don’t stop!”
It riles her up more, her pace quickening with every gasp. She pushes your fingers away, replacing them with her own. The pressure she applies sends your body into overdrive. Between her moans and the physicality, your orgasm hits you like a train. She fucks you through it, mumbling phrases like “that’s my good girl” and “yes baby, give it to me”. 
Once it’s over, it feels like your heart may beat out of your chest. She pulls the strap out and stands up beside your bed, shoving it off her hips. You watch her closely as she props the item up on your side table. She’s careful not to mess with any of you meticulously placed knick knacks. 
“You good?” She asks, her voice cracking a bit. 
She wanted to say more, but as she looks at you all fucked out on your bed, she feels a pang of guilt. She should not be indulging in this type of stuff, especially when you’re going against the cause. Abby had it made here, she can’t risk anything. 
“‘m all good, Abs. Do you wanna stay?”
She shakes her head negatively. 
“I think I’m gonna head back to my room. We gotta be up in a couple hours.”
You notice she’s being cold, which sends you into a spiral. You want to reassure her, but you know deep down she’s already made up her mind. 
You clear your throat, “Well, we can at least wake up together.”
“No, I don't think that’s the best idea,” She explains as she finds her clothes across your bedroom. She lays them on the bed beside you as she starts to dress herself. She has this look of concern on her face. It makes you physically ill, knowing it’s the face of regret. 
“Well, I guess we are back to square one.”
She throws her shirt over her head before she’s gathering up her things and practically running to the door. You want to pick up the dildo and sling it at her head. You can’t believe this. 
She reaches for the door before turning around to face you, “Guess so.”
PART 2 is HERE
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faux-ecrivain · 5 months
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Yan! Crossdresser
(First Official Post)
Yan! Crossdresser that only dressed up for fun or because he was bored. Then he sees you, he tries to approach you in his usual clothes, but you don’t even look at him. (maybe you have an aversion to men, maybe you get along better with girls, or maybe you just don’t like men.)
Yan! Crossdresser who, after seeing your reaction to his ‘normal appearance’, decides to approach you dressed as a woman. (He’s even wearing a dress in your favorite color)
It’s a bit awkward at first, it always is when you meet new people, but it’s especially awkward when the person you’re meeting is such a beautiful woman. This new person says her name is Alex, you shake her hand in a nervous manner (ignorant to the flush that graces her face) and then the two of you are hitting it off. It’s almost like Alex knows everything about you.
Yan! Crossdresser who just couldn’t believe it worked so easily, he expected you to be somewhat reluctant to meet new people. But you weren’t, you were so friendly and kind (that’s what he likes about you), but you’re just so oblivious. (He can’t believe how lucky he is that you aren’t the least hit suspicious about all the information he knows about you)
Yan! Crossdresser who goes out of his way to wear your favorite colors, to dress as your ideal partner. (No matter how irritating how those ribbons on his dress were, don’t even get him started on the hours he spends on his makeup)
Yan! Crossdresser who goes shopping with you, spending hours picking out the perfect outfit for you (maybe some of them are a size too small, just so he can help you put them on)
Yan! Crossdresser that goes out of his way to seduce the ones that are interested in you, despite how much he despises them, only to promptly get rid of them (probably hiding those love rivals in his basement)
Yan! Crossdresser who painstakingly prepares the perfect date to ask you out, he contemplates telling you who he truly is, but then he chickens out (he’s worried you might not like him if you knew the truth)
Yan! Crossdresser who decides to continue this facade of being a woman, cutting off those from his past, those who would recognize him. (He barely even talks to his family anymore) 
Yan! Crossdresser who becomes flustered once you express the worry you feel after seeing how distant he’s become to the ones he used to consider friends.
Yan! Crossdresser who has to resist the urge to shower you in kisses when you hold him close and tell him that you’ll be here for you, that if he’s going through trouble with his friends (and family) you’ll be here for him. 
His heart begins to beat ferociously the moment you embrace him, his face flushes an embarrassing amount and he almost squeals when you run a hand through his hair, trying to comfort him. 
He cautiously embraces you, his arms winding around your waist and he buries his face in your chest. 
(You’re mildly uncomfortable, but you’re trying to be a good friend, and Alex doesn’t mean any harm. At least, you don’t think she does, but sometimes Alex’s behavior if suspicious.)
He feels lightheaded (probably all that blood rushing to his face) and he never wants to let you go. 
Yan! Crossdresser who decides to drag out this facade for just a bit longer, he’ll tell you the truth one day, just not any day soon. 
(Alright, here’s my first official post, I’m not very proud of this post, but hey, I’m a beginner and there’s always room for improvement!)
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delaber · 6 months
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Firestarter (Loki x Reader)
Summary: After having been granted safe passage to the Avengers’ head quarters, Loki’s delighted to learn that he can pass the time by toying with the hate of the newest recruit.
Tropes: Enemies to lovers.
Words: 4.2K
Warnings: smut, mentions of battle injuries
Find part 2 here
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They would all be fools to trust him. They know it. Loki knows it. Hell, even the specs of dust floating around know it!
The only one that seems eager to patch up the growing rift between the opposite sides of the room is the meathead of his brother who is blabbering away, trying hard to ignore the cold air coming from the other Avengers.
He's persistent, you'd have to give him that. They must really love Thor to grant Loki safe passage in their home like this.
- The stab of a thought hits Loki straight in the chest. Sticks to his ribs as he contemplates the sharp hate radiating off of the cotton-clad team opposite him. They don't look the least bit threatening in their oversized casual wear, but they've still granted his brother the upper hand so graciously, and for the first time in a while, he feels the balancing scales tip. It was easier when it was just the three idiots Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg who were fawning over his brother - Sif on occasion too, though Loki had had her in multiple ways Thor could never even wrap his pea-sized brain around.
The thought alone makes the tar on his ribs slowly drip away.
He must've drifted off, lost in thought of Sif with her bare ass in the air because the next thing he registers is Thor's meaty hand between his shoulder blades. "You all know my brother..." he chuckles awkwardly and pushes Loki forwards. Adds his name for clarification when nobody answers. Idiot.
The room's almost dead-silent. Stark scoffs theatrically loud and that Barton fellow turns a lovely shade of plum as he immediately races out of the room without uttering a single word - not that Loki can really blame him; he's killed for less.
Even the newbies on the team are staring daggers at him, though Loki doubts he's ever met any of them before; Captain Rogers' brooding siamese twin, the beefed up action figure beside him and that... woman - the pretty one - her eyes ablaze with a certain kind of hatred that he can physically feel down his spine as she scowls in his direction.
Loki cocks an eyebrow, amused that his reputation precedes him so much that her hate is tangible, and she huffs and pushes through the crowd while the one with the metal arm - the siamese twin - grabs her shoulder to prevent her from stepping too close. It only angers her even more and she shakes off the vibranium hand but stands her ground with her head lifted in cool arrogance, her eyes never wavering from Loki's.
Oh, she really hates him!
The look on her face reminds him of the tales he's heard of Muspelheim. Of Surtur and flames shining brighter than the sun; all of Asgard burning while the glass of the shattered rainbow bridge glistens in the flames and sticks to his skin, covers his hair. With her, there's fire in the air. He feels it immediately and it draws him in.
***
He spends his days in the shadows, observes the dynamics of the Avengers, gathers information in case he has to do something... drastic. He's not exactly planning on betraying the trust his brother's placed in him, but it's never unwise to have a plan to overthrow the Avengers - just in case. So he learns what he can from afar; their likes, their dislikes, their routines. But mostly, Loki just observes her.
She really loathes him which only makes it all the more fun. She storms off whenever he comes close. Flares her nostrils, squares her jaw, stamps away like a petulant child - and he must admit that he does love it! He enjoys having her wrapped around his little finger, that his mere presence can pull such a sincere reaction out of her. It makes the seidr in his veins feel electric; like pure voltage in the palm of his hand as it begs him to show off - show her - what he can do with it. He wonders if this is what Thor feels like when his eyes turn bone-white and arctic blue with lightening.
"I wish you would stop with that."
Loki glances towards his brother, tries to look as bored as possible as if he really doesn't know what he's talking about. "Stop with what?"
Thor gives out a long sigh and Loki is reminded of the first time Thor was disappointed with him; even though it's almost a thousand years ago, he can still smell the sweetness of the stolen tarts he'd hidden underneath his pillowcase and the empty hole in his chest where he knew he should be feeling shame but didn't.
"You know what I mean... It's not nice."
"In case you haven't noticed; I don't care about being nice."
"You're taunting her."
"She's an easy target," Loki hums with remnants of a chuckle, places his hands on the back of his head as he looks over at her. Even as she does something as mundane as drinking her morning coffee, she keeps a wary eye on him. It's entertaining. "You really can't blame me."
"It's not as if she's dangling bait, brother. You hurt her."
"I hurt her?!" Loki snaps, offended, "- when?"
"You really haven't realised?"
"Realised what?"
Another sigh. "Can't you tell she's from New York?"
Loki stops replying after that. Settles on picking an imaginary crumb from off his chest; thin crusted and rhubarb filling. He avoids Thor's gaze. He doesn't feel empty now and they both know it.
***
He'd come running through the compound with the rest of them as soon as the strangled war cry had met his ears.
Half-hiding behind one of the huge stone columns, he takes her in; she's covered in blood from head to toe, panting harshly as she stands in the middle of the hall, daggers still clutched tightly in both hands as her friends surround her. She looks fiery, evil, war ready - like the Valkyries from back home with their spears and their feminine hands skilfully wringing death out of anyone who crosses Asgard.
There had been a time where Loki had been afraid of them, and then, as he grew a little older, completely mesmerised by their raw beauty and the smell of battle as they rode towards the Royal Palace to report back to Odin and his ravens. He remembers standing in the hallowed halls of Valaskjalf with Huginn and Muninn circling above him as the Valkyries take off their helmets and look towards his brother. What he wouldn't have given to have one of them stab him, let alone notice him. Five hundred years later and it still hurts...
Steve Rogers is standing right by her side, not covered in as much blood as she is but still looking relieved to be back home. He sends a nod in Stark's direction and throws an electronic device across the room with a defeated sigh. It doesn't take a genius to see that even though the mission went well, they'd been ambushed.
Rogers takes a step closer to her, puts his arm around her shoulders as to hug her, and for the first time since they appeared in the entrance hall, she howls in pain, collapses on the floor and wrings her face in the most horrible way.
Loki notices the hole in her suit first. Sees how the red comes in pulses and flows down over her shoulder and chest. She's been stabbed, and by the looks of the dark red tissue in the gap, it's deep.
Steve Rogers yelps in shock, throws himself down on the ground beside her and instantly starts pressurising the wound with his bruised hands while his two companions are by her side immediately, ready to scoop her up in their arms and carry her to safety.
Loki takes in the scene unfolding before him; the three frantic men, the spurting blood, her panicked face as she cries. Swears he can hear Hel whisper her name.
"Leave her," he suddenly hears his own voice booming through the echoing hall and it drowns out the whisper.
They all stop dead in their tracks. Look around for him.
He's not sure exactly where all of this is coming from; he really couldn't care less if she died, but he finds himself stepping around the column, and he comes out with his arms raised as if surrendering. "She's gonna bleed out before you reach a doctor."
Action figure-man is on his feet almost immediately: "And what do you suggest?," he hisses angrily, "that we leave her be? Let her die here on the floor without even trying?"
Loki raises his arms a little higher and takes another careful step towards them. "I can help."
"You can help? And why should we trust you?"
"First of all, you shouldn't," he states as he simply cannot help himself. "- But it's your only chance of saving your friend."
"You're not serious!" Tin-man hisses and looks towards Loki while helping Steve Rogers putting pressure on the gaping wound, "as if we're supposed to believe you suddenly care."
Loki wants to bite back but a painful sound from her makes him hold his tongue.
"- We're not gambling with her life!"
"Are you sure?" Loki retorts and it finally makes Captain Rogers look up. "- Because it looks to me as if you are."
Loki cannot see Thor who's standing behind him, but he imagines the slow nod of approval he gives the Steve Rogers trio, because suddenly the Captain gives out a heavy sigh, his eyes downcast. "Alright then," he says in defeat and waves Loki closer while clutching her tight.
"Steve!" Tin-man appeals but his best friend has made up his mind.
All eyes turn to Loki.
He's surprised to learn that he doesn't enjoy it as much as he'd imagined he would. He supposes it's because the main difference between him and his brother has once again been underlined so cruelly.
"If you try anything," action figure man warns and Loki bites back: "What? You'll kill me? As if I haven't heard that before. Now get out of my way, mortal."
He steps forwards, squats down beside her and summons the green sparks in the palm of his hand, looks her in the eye for the first time since the day they'd been introduced. There's fire behind her colourful irises; mistrust, chaos and fear. She leans towards him and with all her strength grabs his wrist. "What - are - you - doing?" she pants and wrings him tightly.
"Saving you," he mumbles and turns his palm around, directs the sparks at her gashing wound.
She gives out a small painful hiss as the wound closes up immediately but her eyes never leave his face. They transgress from pain to panic to relief. He's there with her for the whole ride and it does absolutely nothing to drown the embers inside of him.
"Oh my god," Captain Rogers mumbles and runs his fingers over the newly-formed scar on her front as he stares in disbelief.
Her doubting eyes are still carefully watching Loki, her small fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrist. Her mouth goes slack and she finally lets go of him, looks towards the closed up wound, then back at him. "Thank you," she whispers apprehensively.
It makes his seidr glow fluorescently green in his veins and he gets the sudden urge to fall to his knees and lick her clean.
Had Huginn and Muninn only still been alive, he would've made them watch this up close so they could report it back in detail to all of Asgard.
***
The Avengers are not as cold after that. Still wary of him - as they should be - but the hatred and constant fear is gone. And when she comes back from her bed rest, it tickles him that the first thing she does is to seek him out.
"Thank you," she says slowly, almost controlled, and extends her hand as a peace offering, "- for saving my life."
"You already said that."
"Well, I meant it."
He looks up at her. Her mouth is formed to a pout, her body poised in vigilance, her eyes carefully watching his every movement while her hand extends into dangerous grounds. She's still not sure what his motives are and it gives him the opportunity to toy with her a bit. "...I'm honoured?"
A short-lived flame of annoyance flashes across her features as she retracts her hand back to safety with a huff.
"Did I say something wrong?" he quips in the hopes that he can keep her attention.
"You're trying to rile me up."
"How dare you!" He says in mock offence. "I would never!"
She crosses her arms underneath her chest, "I'm trying to offer you an olive branch and all you do is ridicule me. Are you really that desperate for attention?"
It amuses him. He loves when she shows him bits of the real her. "Are you calling me desperate for attention because I don't care I saved your life?"
“Then why did you do it?”
“It was merely strategic,” he shrugs and hopes she doesn’t detect the lie that tastes bitter on his tongue. Why did he save her? The question’s been nagging him for days now. “- it’s never unwise to have an Avenger owe you their life.”
“Wow,” she blinks and shakes her head in disbelief. "I don't know why we all listened to Thor - he said you'd changed but you're clearly still a conniving snake.”
"A snake?” he smiles, relieved that his lie has her convinced, "is that supposed to hurt me? Trust me, darling, I've been called worse."
"Just a gentle reminder that you'll never be anything but a villain."
"I suppose every villain is a hero in their own mind."
She takes the bait and narrows her eyes. "You absolutely destroyed my hometown. All the places I loved. And you have the nerve to call yourself a hero?!"
"Would you prefer a god?"
She flares her nostrils in frustration, "is everything a joke to you?"
"...Mainly?" he smirks "in case you haven't noticed, I'm the God of Mischief - it's in the job description."
She takes a few angry breaths. "Life is always a performance for you, isn't it? Whether it's an endless need for attention, a humorous quip, or the unfolding of another of your great plans, it's always just for show!"
He's excited to feel that the full-blown anger's back and she's seeing red. And to think he was almost disappointed in her?!
She grinds her teeth. "Just so we're clear, I'm not doing this to imply we're even or to make you feel just the slightest bit better about yourself for what you did. Trust me, I'd still rather see you rotting away in a prison cell. You-"
"I must admit," he drawls, gives himself some time to enjoy her undivided, flaming attention as he so impolitely interrupts her, "I like you much more when you're honest with me. When you admit you want to watch me burn! This front of niceties you just put up? This so-called olive branch while you so uncharacteristically give up control? It doesn't suit you."
She wrings her arms in frustration, narrows her eyes into slits. "You're goddamn insufferable!"
***
She's not more intoxicated than the rest of the Avengers, but she is drunk. Agent Romanoff keeps handing her clear liquor in small glasses that they down in a single second, followed by strings of laughs when the alcohol burns in their throats.
He remembers being drunk like that; fresh, sweet-smelling mead from oak barrels in the hundreds, wine in golden carafes on every table. He used to love the parties him and Thor threw; the chaos, the abundance! A heavy flow of alcohol was always a neat little excuse for his erratic behaviour, but the best part was always when the mead was extra good and strong and he could get Thor to follow his lead. Oh, how they used to cause rampage! They would've been unstoppable, had they only been on the same side.
Loki turns around the brown glass bottle in his hand so he can read the blue label; five percent...
He misses the lightheadedness, the parties, him and Thor being on the same side, Asgard. He's never longed for a taste of home this much before. He looks back at her.
"You're being unusually quiet this evening," Thor says from layers away, "should I be worried?"
"Hmm?" Loki snaps out of it, turns his head towards his brother who's sitting with an annoyingly smug expression plastered on his face. "No, I'm just contemplating this piss they call beer. How can they drink it?" He gives the bottle a sniff and winces. "I never thought I'd hear myself say it but I miss Asgard."
"Is that sentiment I sense in you, brother?"
"Absolutely not," he scoffs and looks back at her and Romanoff as they give out a loud laugh. "I'm glad it burned."
Her eyes scan the room, land on Loki's for a split second too long to pretend they didn't register him. For some reason, it satisfies him. She's aware of his presence.
"You like her," he hears Thor's chuckle from beside him.
"Bite your tongue!"
"I notice you stare at her a lot," he chuckles again.
Loki wants to say something. Wants to make Thor pay for what he's implying, but he doesn't really have a great comeback to that.
***
It's later that same evening when she finally approaches him. Toned legs walking towards him, wide hips swaying up the small set of stairs, shoulders pushed arrogantly back as she determinedly stares him down. She only has eyes for him. Finally.
He can't help but meet her halfway; he leans forwards, balances his elbows on his knees, impatiently waits for her to spit on him.
"Loki," she hums with fire in her eyes when the syllables hit her tongue.
"Yes, little dove?" he quips, excited to see her riled up and finally talking to him again.
"I want to talk to you," she scans the room for unwanted attention before her sharp eyes find his again and he feels the bone-white and arctic blue. "This little game you're playing?" She says harshly, "It ends now."
He almost gives in. Almost. "What game?"
"Don't play stupid," she huffs. "I can't do anything without you keeping an eye on me. Tell me what it is you want."
He cannot help the smirk that appears on his lips and he leans a little closer, spreads his knees apart.
"Answer me," she demands, her chest heaving.
"You haven't asked a question," he says calmly as if he truly didn't notice the way her eyes lingered on his crotch.
"You want me to be sincere," she states and takes another step towards him. "-I want the same thing from you."
She's so close he can smell her; sweet, salty, tang on the back of his tongue. She's ripe like a fucking goddess!
He absentmindedly rubs his thighs. "Darling, I assure you; this is me being sincere."
Her chest is heaving in heavy pants. She's annoyed. "Then tell me exactly what you want from me."
She holds his gaze in an insane power play while he ponders for a second. Should he tell her his intentions? String her along for a little while longer and make her second-guess everything? He is the God of Mischief, he supposes, but she looks so sweet, so damn fuckable as she angrily stares down at him. So he gives in and tells her what he wants. After all, why shouldn't he? What's he got to lose?
***
A decent man would've probably kept her at an arms length, tucked her into bed and told her she was way too drunk to make decisions like this, but Loki's not a decent man. He'll take what he can get and leave the decency to team Cap.
With a flick of his wrist, they're back in his bedroom. She's naked in his lap, pushing her lovely tits up against him as she pulls him closer. "You like me," she whispers and licks the shell of his ear. Moves her pelvis against his leather clothing, "you like watching me."
"Shut up," he groans and pulls her flush against his chest, pushes his tongue past her teeth as he grinds her bottom against his crotch.
Her hand comes down between them, slides down over the trail of hair underneath his navel before her fingers find their way to the buttons of his leather pants, unleashes him without a single touch. She eyes him hungrily but keeps her hands to herself, nonverbally insists she has the power to control him. The way she looks at him: he's so hard, it's verging on torture.
"Tell me you like me," she pulls harshly down on his hair, bites him; draws blood from his lower lip.
"Ah!" he hisses though he likes it! "Careful!"
She yanks his hair again with an evil smile and Loki swears, he almost comes.
"You're a devil, aren't you?" he hears himself say as he smacks her ass and bites her nipple, takes advantage of her little jump to push two fingers inside her pulsing heat. She's gushing already, soaks him all the way down to his knuckles as she rides his hand, pinches her own nipples.
"Say my name," he pulls on her earlobe with his teeth. "Spit on me!"
She finds his eye, gives him the same evil smile as before and whispers a short "no," as she arches her back and pushes her nipple back into his mouth. Cheeky little thing.
He curls his fingers and strokes her g-spot, enjoys the sounds she's making for him. Only for him, he reminds himself and feels his chest expanding with something unfamiliar that makes him want to melt into her. He pushes it away; concentrates on the tangible pleasure and not how it makes his head dizzy.
As if on cue, her hands finally find his aching cock and she starts stroking him slowly. He's harder than ever and leaking already.
He looks down between them; small feminine hands caressing him so sweetly is a fantastic contrast to all the biting and pulling. He feels his chest expanding again. "Fuck!" he hisses and pushes himself into her hand to feel something else. Focus on the pleasure, he tells himself and stutters his hips upwards again and again.
Her fingers are running through his hair and she's sucking on his tongue while her hand sets the pace, runs over his stained head. "You want this?" She whispers, bites the thin skin below his jaw.
Fuck yes he wants this! Wants her! He groans.
"You want to save my life?," she bites him again, pulls on his hair. "You want me to spit on you? Are you so desperate to fuck an avenger?"
He hisses at that, grabs her jaw tightly. "I hate the Avengers!"
"Are you sure?" she smiles devilishly and points at the scar on her shoulder. "Are you sure you really hate us?”
He groans in defeat and releases her pretty face with a hiss and positions himself at her entrance, finally pushes himself inside with the same pace as she lowers herself down towards his hips. “Ah! Fuck!”
It's an immediate collision of universes, Loki is seeing stars and needs a second to come down to earth, to savour the feeling, but he hardly has time to get used to the warm wetness squeezing him tight before she starts moving in long, warm pulses.
He's captivated, enchanted! He bites her neck, holds her down, desperate to keep her bouncing in a speed that makes him flex his toes without making him explode. He wants this to last. He wants this memory of her hatefucking him into oblivion. This beautiful, vengeful woman who's mounting him like a stallion and riding him like a valkyrie riding to battle. "Goddess!" he hisses against her neck and she finally finds his mouth and without the use of teeth, presses silky lips against his, makes everything inside of him glow green with desire. It’s desire, he tells himself though it feels like something else.
"Loki," she finally moans in his ear and he's never heard anything sweeter.
He pulls her closer, fucks into her and smells her skin. Kisses the scar below her shoulder.
He saved her.
His seidr runs crazy, tingles throughout every limb, makes him see everything clear: he wants her to want him and only him!
That’s why he saved her.
His last thought before he completely lets go is of the disaster he knows this will bring upon him; his own, personal Ragnarok visible on the horizon. She has the power to make him crumble, to make him burn brighter than the sun and turn to ash. He feels it already and there's no stopping it.
He thinks of Valaskjalf. Of molten gold and flames licking his father’s throne.
She speeds up, moans his name, fills his chest with fire.
Valhalla, I'm coming home.
Find part 2 here
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1800-lemonadeg1rl · 17 days
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Anyone other than you
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Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆
Summary- You and your supposed "enemy" get stuck in a cupboard while on a duo mission
Warnings- violence, gunshots, emo Wanda, mean Wanda, forced proximity, claustrophobia, confusion, not proofread!!
A/n - I dont know whether I hate this tbhhh idk whether it's because it took me sm breaks to write it but it feels off idkk
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You entered the quinjet while sighing to yourself. How did you let this happen? You thought as you buckled on your seatbelt. Getting put on a duo mission with the one woman on the team who hates your guts. Wanda Maximoff.
You never had any idea what you'd done to make her despise you so much but nothing you ever did seemed to make up for it. Everytime you spoke in a meeting you could feel her stare digging into your soul. The way she'd scowl when she entered what she'd presume to be an empty room only to find you inside. She'd always mumble something in a language you didn't understand before flouncing out the room. Things weren't any better when you were part of a group with her either. She'd barely respond if you asked her something or flat out ignore you.
It wasn't like you hadn't tried to get along with her either, trying to be as friendly with her as you were with everyone else. Offering to make her food, help her with household chores or help out with her mission reports but nothing you did ever seemed to stop her from glaring at you. She wasn't known to be the most outgoing person but you never saw her act this way with anyone else so eventually you gave up deciding it best to ignore her the way she did you.
Now, unfortunately you didn't have that luxury anymore. You'd begged and begged Tony not to put you on this duo mission even contemplating getting ill to avoid it. He had insisted you had to go on this mission apparently you and Wanda had the 'specific' skills skillset for this mission, whatever that meant you knew he was just bullshitting to get you to shut up.
So now here you were getting ready to set off on your two day long stealth mission with the girl who could barely stand to look at you let alone talk and work with you.
You'd arrived at the hotel room you'd be sharing with Wanda and thanked God that you'd got their first and the fact there was two beds. Quickly you threw down your bag on the bed closest to the window and began to check out the rest of the hotel room.
You were smelling the soaps in the bathroom when in clomped Wanda, her doc Martins still managing to make some kind of noise over the soft carpeted floor. She was dressed in a long baggy grey sweater and black skirt with patterned fishnets. Her hands adorned with rings and her short bitten at nails painted black.
"It smells of smoke." She thinks out loud without noticing your precense in the room.
"Yeah sorry about that it's my new signature perfume." You try to joke hoping she might happen to be over her constant anger with you. You study her face through the bathroom mirror as you speak watching out for her reaction. At first you see the possibility of a smile forming on her face and a rosy colour on her cheeks but quickly it's replaced by her signature scowl and a disgusted noise sneaking past her lips.
"Oh. You're here." She talks as if she'd expected someone else to be here despite the many debriefs you'd had together about this mission.
You for one had had enough of her attitude around you acting as if you were something below her. "Yes I'm here like it or not. Can we at least just be civil for the sake of this mission." You groan while walking over to where she's stood, raking your hands through your hair. In response she grumbled out some kind of agreement and that was it.
So far things had been going fine, you'd both kept to your own routine with minimal communication between the two of you. For the most part you'd spent your time exploring the hotel you were staying in. It was cheap and smelt damp. You for sure would be complaining at how you got booked in this dingy one star place once this mission was over. You'd been excited originally as the hotel advertised having a twenty five metre indoor swimming pool which was plenty to keep you occupied however when you inquired at the desk the receptionist, who'd been ignoring you stood there for ten minutes while she read her magazine, told it was shut indefinitely.
Eventually you had to return to the room and when you did Wanda was already fast asleep on her bed, small snores sounding occasionally. You took note of how pretty she was when she wasn't scowling before sliding into your own bed for the night.
You'd done the first half of the mission with relative ease, you and Wanda putting a side your differences for the greater good. Now it seemed as if things were taking a turn for the worse. Upon arrival you'd both scouted the building for any kind of agents or security around the building but found none however now it seemed the building was filling up with them. Two men following behind who you were attempting to fire at and run away from, which is much harder than Natasha makes it look in training.
From the whimper of pain which sounded sounded out and echoed down the corridor you assumed you shot one. This was your chance to lose them and Wanda realised that too as you both picked up the pace of your running.
Out of nowhere she grabbed your arm and dragged you inside a small dark box? No it can't be a box you thought as you looked above you and saw an empty clothing rail. It was a cupboard. Your eyes scanned around the little space you had while trying to avoid eyecontact with Wanda who was leaning over top of you with one hand next to your head against the wall of the cupboard to keep her upright.
Quickly the cramped and uncomfortable space became all too much for you. The lack of oxygen in there made you take shallow breaths and sweat pooled from your forhead. It felt like the walls were closing in. You should get out. No you had to. Trying to move to force yourself out startled Wanda who gripped onto your shoulder to avoid you both tumbling out and compromising your hiding place.
"What are you doing? Just stay still." She whispered angrily. Had her voice always sounding that good up close? At that thought a frown crossed your face and you briefly forgot how badly you needed to get out of this space you were entrapped in. It didn't make you completely forget though as you came to your senses and stopped thinking about how nice Wanda's voice was and remembered how your heart was thundering in your chest and you whole body ached to get out of this cupboard.
"Have to.. to get out." You breathe out, expecting some kind of rude response from her as your breathing further quickens and vision fogs up. Her actual response is nothing you'd ever thought you'd hear her say.
"Look at me y/n." She waits to make sure your making eyecontact with her before continuing. "Its going to be okay, this is all okay and this is nothing you can't do. Just focus on me not the four walls.." her voice was soothing and not completely unlike a lullaby. You still felt unsettled but nothing like before when you were desperate to get out. "Your gonna be fine." She says again as she takes your hand in her own gently squeezing it. The cool feeling of her silver rings against your sweaty palms helping further calm you down as your breathing once again becomes steady.
After a few minutes of silence where you just focus on your breathing and the feeling of Wanda's thumb rubbing against the back of your hand you begin to speak. "Thanks.. I know you don't really like me or anything but I appreciated that a lot."
"Its nothing really... also your stood on my foot." She tells you returning to her usual cold snappy voice. Quickly you moved your foot away muttering apologies as you did, unsure how long you'd been stood on her foot. "I don't hate you either. Well not really."
Your about to question her on why she acts this way around you if she really doesn't hate you but before you can she opens the cupboard door and you both stumble out thankful for the airy space around you. "Don't bring this up y/n." She says before leading the way out leaving you trailing behind a little confused. Was she mean? Did she hate you? Was that all for the mission?
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sunflower-lilac42 · 5 months
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✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | connor bedard ♔
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summary: after a blackhawks win, connor shows up at his girlfriend's apartment like every other game night.
warnings: celebrating christmas too early
notes: ah my first connor fic. i love him so much. justic for connor fr.
nhl masterlist | main masterlist
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Dating the first overall pick was an experience, to say the least. Y/n and Connor had been dating since they were sixteen and she was by his side every step of the way through his hockey career. 
When they knew where Connor was going to be drafted, the two of them got this sinking feeling in their stomachs. They didn’t want to do long distance, it would be too hard on both of them. However, there was something that y/n never told Connor. 
She applied to the University of Illinois-Chicago on a whim. She didn’t think she would get in, so she didn’t see the point in telling her boyfriend about it. Yet, when she got her acceptance letter, she was troubled. She had never seen the campus, knew nothing about Chicago in general, she didn’t know what classes she would have to take. 
But, when she thought about the other schools she had looked at, none of them even compared to being just down the street from where Connor would be every day that he wasn’t on a road trip. None of them were worth being so far away from her boyfriend. 
A week after she got her letter she sat Connor down to talk. Connor didn’t like the way y/n sounded when she said, ‘I need to talk to you’. 
✧༺✎༻∞
“Con, I need to talk to you.”
Connor’s eyebrows furrowed and sat down on y/n’s couch holding her hand as y/n looked around anxiously.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“What, no, of course not. There’s just something I have been keeping from you.”
“I don’t know if I should be relieved or more nervous now.”
Y/n laughed nervously, “No, uh. You know how we were talking about how we didn’t want to do long distance?”
“Yeah?”
“We might not have to.” Y/n handed the envelope to her boyfriend and watched his reaction nervously. 
Connor had a confused look on his face as he looked at his girlfriend and then at the envelope. He opened and his face was met with the UIC causing him even more confusion. 
“You applied to Chicago?” Y/n just nodded her head and urged him to keep reading. 
He only had to scan a few lines before he was standing up and looking at the girl, “You got in?”
“Mhm.” Before he celebrated he contemplated the situation. He didn’t want her to move to Chicago just because he was going to be there. He loved her yes and he wanted her to be there, but he didn’t want her to give up her life for him. 
“But what about-”
“‘But what about’ nothing, Connor. I love you and I want to be with you. And if that means going to Chicago with you, I will. Chicago has something no other school doesn’t.”
“What?”
“You, you big dope.”
✧༺✎༻∞
Connor was forever grateful that she kept that secret from him. If he knew that she applied to UIC and didn’t get in, he would be devastated. However, there were ups and downs to being there in Chicago. Connor rarely saw y/n despite her being just down the street from the UC. 
Any time he had an off day, she would have class and anytime she didn’t have class, he would have practice or a game. It was the luck of the draw when they got to be with each other. At points in time, they both thought it would’ve been better if they just stayed in their respective cities. 
Overall, those cons were outweighed by the pros. When Connor had a rough day he could literally walk to her apartment to the UC, though he never did. And when y/n had her rough days, she would call Connor and they could be at each other's places within minutes. Though most days when they had a night game, or any game really, Connor ended up staying at her apartment. 
That was what happened tonight. Y/n was watching the game from her apartment, she had lucked out with only getting one roommate and she had gone home for the break. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving and y/n didn’t particularly want to go home, spending time with Connor was enough for her. 
They had played the Leafs and Kevin scored the overtime goal with an assist from Connor. She had cheered so loudly that she was glad that almost everyone had gone home for the break. She watched post-game live including the interviews and everything that went along with it. When it was done, she turned on the Vancouver game as background noise while she added some food for her and Connor along with some cookies for later. 
She truly had no way of knowing when and if Connor was coming back tonight, but she knew him. She sort of blacked out from the end of the game to when Connor came in through the door, causing her to jump when she heard the sound of his bag against the floor. 
“Hey, Con.”
“Hi.” He took off his suit jacket and his hat, his cheeks rosy from the of Chicago. 
“Thought you guys would be celebrating.” Y/n turned around from where she was stirring at the stove.
“They offered but cuddling with you was much more tempting.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped his head onto her shoulder, “Whatcha making?”
“Soup and I went out and got a bunch of stuffing, because why not.”
“Thank you.” She turned her head and kissed his cheek, “Always.”
Connor went to shower and change as she finished making their food. The two sat and ate dinner while watching the game, talking about whatever came to mind. Connor was going to go shopping with her tomorrow even though Black Friday was today. They were going to buy Christmas decorations so they could decorate her room and apart of the main area of the apartment. 
When they were done and the game was done, they climbed under the covers of her bed, Connor wrapping his arms around her as she laid her head on his chest. 
“I’m proud of you.”
“For what?”
“You’re OT goal assist. Con that was amazing.”
Connor shrugged and tightened his hold.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
And that’s how almost every game night is spent for Connor and y/n. Those nights were their favorite.
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blindmagdalena · 2 months
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I love the idea of you having a cat and she loves Homelander more than you. So she trots up to him, does belly flops next to his feet and always sits on him. You're like, "you TRAITOR!" and he is smug.
"Traitor," you accuse sullenly. There's nothing to be done about it, though. All you can do is watch your cat—your once loyal and beloved pet—purr and roll every which way, bumping between Homelander's boots.
Homelander's brows furrow, but he doesn't move. He's planted firmly on the couch watching the rolling animal. "What's wrong with it?"
You exhale an incredulous laugh. "What do you mean? She wants you to pet her."
His gaze flickers up to meet yours, those ocean eyes contemplative. There are times when Homelander is strange in ways that are difficult to articulate. He becomes lost in mundane moments that you take for granted.
Sometimes he's like an alien. A perfect approximation of a human assembled by an entity that knows of them only through film and the pop culture zeitgeist.
"Never pet a cat before?" You ask.
"No," he answers, surprising you. Oh.
"Well, just... stroke," you encourage, miming the gesture. "Head to tail, never backwards. Go with the fur."
He moves to do as instructed, but your cat startles at the touch and lets go a harmless hiss, sniffing at the leather of his gloves.
"Oh, what?" He asks the cat derisively, visibly offended by the unpleasant reaction. He always hates to learn he's done something wrong. "You instigated."
You stifle a laugh behind your hand. "You spooked her. Take off your glove."
A little reluctantly, he does as he's told, popping loose each finger of his glove before he slides it off, setting it to the side.
"Let her smell your hand first," you say, crossing your arms.
He shoots you a withering look, clearly unimpressed with the ritual of it all, given that he was the one initially accosted, but nevertheless he places his long, outstretched fingers in front of the cats face.
You watch, your jealousy dissolving in the wake of the revelation that this is his first time experiencing the favor of such a fickle little beast.
A few sniffs, and then your cat pushes into his finger, dragging her cheek down the length of it. He strokes down her back in turn, and the tentative mutter of her purr revs back up into a full on rumble.
Something shifts in him at her unspoken acceptance. The square line of his shoulders softens, as does his expression. He pets her a few times before letting her sniff again, the corner of his mouth twitching with the force she pushes her head up into his palm.
Another flop onto her back, belly wide open, paws primed. The trap is set.
"She wants you to rub her belly," you say, hiding the deviousness of your smile.
Homelander doesn't question it. He reaches out to ruffle the fur on her stomach, and her claws close on him with all the tenacity of a fuzzy little beartrap, snagging his hand with teeth and claws alike, her hind paws kicking wildly at his wrist.
His expression flattens. "You really are a traitor."
You laugh, closing the distance to sit next to him on the couch. Anyone else would have recoiled, but Homelander dispassionately endures your cats valiant efforts to mangle his invulnerable skin.
"Tis the season, I suppose," you say, leaning against him. "Happy Ides of March."
His lip twitches. No one appreciates a good Roman empire reference quite the way Homelander does. He untangles his fingers from her snare and scratches at her head, splaying his fingers when she ducks away, tail flicking, still purring ardently.
He leans back against the couch, putting his arm around you. You rest your head against his chest, and he turns to plant a kiss atop your head.
Your cat jumps up onto the couch, not content to be abandoned, and starts making her way onto Homelander's lap. She immediately makes herself at home, kneading into the soft padded thigh of his suit. His brows crease at the sound of her claws catching on the fabric, but he doesn't shoo her.
She settles on his lap for the first—but certainly not the last—time. He pets her from her head to the tip of her tail, the remaining bit of tension in him bleeding away as she purrs. Her persistent nuzzling even brings a faint easy smile to his lips.
You never thought that something as mundane as petting a cat would feel like a milestone, but in your time with Homelander, you've learned that he's missing an awful lot of those. Some more significant than others, but none that you would trade away.
Maybe sharing your cat's love isn't quite so bad.
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heartsforseo · 1 month
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Luffy x jealous reader
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A/n: All of these are just fiction. You are pretty, lovely, and beautiful <?33 Word count: 600 Request are open Warning: insecure reader but Luffy is beige so he comforts u
ft: Luffy, Boa
Requested: <yes> <no>
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You love Luffy, you really do. But God, he’s so dense it hurts. Right now, he’s being fed by none other than the Kuja Empress herself, Boa Hancock. She even learned how to cook meat, just for Luffy!
Yeah, you can stand your ground in terms of attractiveness. But with the most beautiful woman? Yeah no, you’d wither away like a speck of dust.
You’re glad that Boa finds Luffy attractive. But at the same time sad. Luffy is handsome and strong. It makes sense that he’ll need a partner that can be on his level. And well, you’re quite far from it.
It doesn’t help that Luffy is oblivious to all this! Yes, Luffy is way smarter than he looks. And yes, he can be serious sometimes. But what does he know about love? He’s like a newborn child when it comes to it. If it weren’t for Robin pushing him to confess, you would’ve imploded!
It also doesn’t help that when the pirate empress first saw you, she was…disgusted. And when she looked back at Luffy, her heart and eyes went back. Not to mention, you also had a lesser portion of food being given to you.
Finally having enough, you left the scene and went back to you and Luffy’s shared room. You contemplated whether to just sleep at the ship for the rest of the week or stay in the castle.
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You lay down on the futon, looking at the blank ceiling. Light filled the corner of your eyes. Standing there was Luffy and meat in his mouth.
He entered the room and closed the door. The two of you were silent, and an uncomfortable aura filled the area. Luffy swallowed the meat whole and then spoke, “Are you ok, Y/n?” You shifted your body and positioned it to stare at Luffy. “Of course, why would you think that?”
He tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms, “Well you seemed down when we were eating…was it because I stole all your food?!” He laughed, “You gotta be quick next time, Y/n.”
“I guess so,” you said. Your voice was dry and had no feelings. You shifted your weight back to your original position, and once again, looked at the ceiling.
Luffy frowned at your reaction and used his gum-gum fruit to snatch you out of the bed.
You gave out a little squeak and gasped, “Luffy!”
“Are you mad at me, Y/n?” He asked, pouting, “I’ll try not to steal your food anymore, ok?”
You smiled a bit from his gestures, “I’m not mad at you, Luffy. Just tired.”
“Really? But we’re having fun downstairs.”
“Well, you can go back down, Luffy. I’m not gonna stop you.”
Luffy looked at you for a while and finally spoke, “Nah.” He held your bridal style and went to the futon. He put the two futons close together and dropped you on top.
“Luffy?”
“Sanji said that if a woman is sad then you should spend time with them. So, I’m gonna cuddle with you tonight, Y/n!” He gave you a flashy smile and wrapped his rubber arms around you three times.
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Morning came and you woke up from the sun shining on your eyes. You looked beside you and noticed Luffy still asleep, his hair was a mess, his mouth was wide open, and his arms were tightly wrapped around you.
You blushed from what you remembered last night and opted to wake up Luffy. But, you never had a day as peaceful as this. And so, you went back from your sleep and embraced him, once again.
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A/n: I just want to let you all know THIS is just a fictional story. You are of course perfect just the way you are <?33
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250 notes · View notes
suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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muntxa si
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MUNTXA SI: (english) to mate with, marry
(Adult) Neteyam vehemently opposes his human mate becoming Na’vi, for fear of losing her.
This story makes many assumptions - just go with them to enjoy the ride.
2,247 words.
The strength with which Neteyam opposed the idea, right from the very start, was a shock to everyone who knew him. When his mother first mentioned it, she saw a familiar fury in his eyes, one she knew she’d worn many times. 
His brother nearly lost his head when he brought it up, and his father hadn’t even tried to broach the subject.
What he didn’t know was that they weren’t bringing it up of their own accord, though it was something they’d thought about before. They were bringing it up because I had brought it up to them first.
I was the only one who wasn’t shocked by his reaction. I knew that all Neteyam would see was the danger and risk involved, and there was nothing more detestable to Neteyam than putting me in harm’s way. This was a sometimes annoying but mostly reassuring trait of his, especially given that, as a human living on Pandora, danger was lurking around nearly every corner for me. Ewya had blessed me with a strong and capable - but slightly overbearing - protector.
After weeks of his family telling me it was me who would have to convince him, I finally plucked up the courage.
We sat in our Mauri pod, late at night, and the words spilled out of my mouth before I could fully control them.
“I want to become Na’vi. Norm has an Avatar for me, he’s been hiding it since I was little, and he told me on my 20th birthday. It’s fully mature now.”
Neteyam sat at the edge of our pod, his legs dangling over the edge and into the water, and he spun around so fast that his braids smacked the wall of the Mauri.
His eyes narrowed and he lowered his chin. “No.”
Taking a deep breath beneath my mask, I stood up. “You don’t get to decide for me, Teyam. I have decided, and I know the clan will support me.”
“No!” He was standing too now, towering over me at nearly twice my height, but he could never scare or intimate me, even if he truly tried.
“Listen to me, Neteyam. You are only thinking of the risk involved, and not the reward. I can’t survive here forever, as one of the last humans. What if the air tanks run out? How will we live our lives together, with me in this human body? Have you considered the fact that your lifespan is twice mine? What will you do when I am too old, even, to run and swim? I won’t live like that, Neteyam!”
I felt hot tears in my eyes, and tried to blink them away in frustration. “You can’t force me to live a half-life with you when a full life is within my grasp! I know Ewya will give this to me. She wouldn’t have brought me to you if she didn’t want us to be together.”
Neteyam’s hands rested on my shoulders, enveloping me, stressing to the both of us our impractical size difference.
“Y/N... you don’t know that she will give this to us. She may take you home to her.”
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the panic I could see in his face. 
“I have to do this, Neteyam. We won’t have a future together if I don’t. Norm and the others... they talk about having to leave, without a permanent colony here. Their supplies won’t last forever. They would either take me, or leave me here to die with no oxygen.”
Neteyam pulled me down, so we were sitting face to face, our legs crossed.
“I cannot lose you, Y/N.”
“This is our best chance, Neteyam. Please. Please let me do this.”
As much as I had been pretending it was only my choice, and I didn’t need his permission, I knew I couldn’t do it without his blessing. That just wasn’t something I could do to Ma Teyam. 
I watched his chest rise and fall with deep breaths as he contemplated.
“We will do this, Y/N, and if Ewya takes you, I will follow you to her myself and bring you back.”
-- 
It took time to plan - time that was exciting for all of us. We decided to fly back to the Tree of Souls to give my human body the best chance, since with the Metkayina, the ceremony would have to take place under water.
The Omatikaya welcomed the Sullys, and one sky person, back with open arms. After all, it wasn’t as if I was a stranger to them - I had many friends to greet, as well.
The ceremony was set for the night after our return. Neteyam was quiet at dinner, and his mother watched him cautiously.
“Son,” she said, handing him a plate, “I see the spirit within Y/N. It reminds me of your father - strong, stubborn, a little frustrating.” She smiled, but Neteyam couldn’t bring himself to follow suit. “She will be okay.”
She gripped her son’s arm and he nodded, but the sinking feeling in his chest was there to stay, until the ceremony was complete.
--
Neteyam walked with me, hand and hand, through the large crowd there to witness my birth - or my funeral.
I could feel the tension radiating through his body, but no matter what I said, I wasn’t able to ease it for him. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, myself.
There she lay - me, but not me. Tall, with long, thick black hair and eyes that would surely be a piercing gold when opened. She was beautiful; it was the first I was seeing her.
“Oh, Neteyam...” I said, a lump in my throat, and gripped his arm tightly as we approached the tree.
He placed his hand over mine. “You can still change your mind,” he said, but with a sly smile, the first I’d seen him wear in a while - he knew there was little chance of that.
He lifted me up and placed me next to my new body, where the spiritual leader of the Omatikaya waited, a serene and focused look on her face.
She gestured for me to lay down, and I turned to Neteyam. Maybe it was the proximity to the Tree of Souls, but I felt a calm - and tried to convey it to Neteyam with a smile. His family stood behind him, taking their seats to join the ceremony. Neteyam would stay with me until it was done.
He nodded, and I could practically see his heart beating through his chest as he helped me to lay down, my head inches from my avatar’s.
“You will sleep now. Be calm,” a voice above me said, and I had only time to tell Neteyam I loved him before I sank away.
--
Watching her eyes close, a panic gripped Neteyam’s heart and he felt as if he could vomit in front of the entire clan.
He turned and sought his mother, and would have been embarrassed to do so in any other situation. She was seated between his brother and father, all holding hands with eyes closed, chanting to Ewya.
He watched as Ewya reached up, covering his mate in feather light touches, and he put his hands on her, praying to Ewya, reminding Ewya how much this human woman meant to him.
Silently, he told Ewya of the first time they’d met, at only six years old, and of their first kiss at 12, how she fought with him through the Great War despite her size, how long it took him to work up the courage to ask her to be his mate, and how they cried together when she said yes.
This woman is my life, Great Mother, he prayed, I ask that you return her to me in either body here, and we will make the most of this life we have together.
Every minute felt like an hour, and then the Tsahik reached over and pulled the mask off of his love’s face.
She was gone, at least from this form.
“She is passing through Ewya now, Neteyam, and you must guide her back,” the Tsahik said.
He leapt carefully over to her avatar body, taking it in for the first time. Those were her lips, the shape of her eyes, the sharp dip between her nose and mouth - all his favorite things about her, right here.
“Yawne,” he said, reaching out to touch her soft face, “can you hear me? Follow my voice. Come back to me so that we may return home together, and live the life you promised me.”
He looked to the Tsahik, who nodded in encouragement and resumed chanting. The cries of the clan rose around him, his father and mother’s the loudest, and he steadied his shaking body with a deep breath.
“Y/N, Yawne, hear my voice and follow it. I will wait for you forever - remember the promise I made. Do not deliver two souls to Ewya this day.”
He nearly shot back when the woman before him took a gasping breath, and amber eyes shot open.
--
It’s impossible to describe how it happens. It’s not a wordly experience, and there are no words to properly convey it.
Ewya is real, and she gave me a second chance at life.
Neteyam’s face hovered inches above mine as I gasped for air. He slipped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me up, and even in this new body, in my disoriented state, I was acutely aware that I was naked.
“Yawne,” Neteyam whispered, and I saw the tears spilling from his eyes. He only called me Yawne - beloved - once before, when he asked me to be his mate.
“Tiyawn,” I replied, my voice breathy and almost foreign to my ears. My ears! I reached up, trailing my hand over my thick hair and reaching up to feel the pointy, blue ears atop my head. A giggle escaped before I could stop it.
“Can you stand?” he asked, gripping my arms.
I leaned into him. “I am naked.”
“You are Na’vi now,” he replied with almost a shrug, “but I will carry you if it concerns you.”
“I think you should, my legs feel weak.”
They felt strong. My entire body felt strong, and I couldn’t wait to learn how to use it. 
I glanced over my shoulder to see myself. My former self. As Neteyam lifted me into his arms and stood up, I thought I should cry for her... but she didn’t feel like me, not anymore. 
The clan cheered and whooped, hollered and threw their arms triumphant in the air, as Neteyam stood with me and let out what sounded like a war cry, shaking me in his arms.
The joy in his face was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was beautiful, especially seen through these new eyes.
He rushed through the crowd, to his Ikran, and mounted in one fell swoop with me in his arms.
The Ikran felt so much smaller than she had when we’d arrived less than an hour ago, but of course, I was the one who had grown over three feet.
He took off, holding the saddle with one arm and me tightly in the other, to a place we could be alone.
--
Back at our temporary home, I was finally able to take a breath and try my new body out. For my first few steps, I had to hold Neteyam’s hands, until I got the hang of it.
I felt weak, but I knew that would wear off. This body was strong, and I was going to make it even stronger, so I could finally keep up with Neteyam.
The thought made me burst into tears as he searched through his mother’s things for something I could wear.
“What is it, Y/N? Do you hurt?” he asked, rushing to my side with only a necklace in his hands.
Embarrassed, I tried to wave him off, but he was too on edge. “Tell me, Yawne. Tell me what you need.”
I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him tightly to me. My face rested perfectly on his chest, where before, it was just over his waist - making hugging an awkward feat. We fit perfectly together now, and it made me cry even harder.
“I’m just so happy and grateful, Neteyam.” I pulled back, wiping at my tears. “Tell me what you think.”
“What I think?” he asked, turning his head to the side.
“Of... me. Of my body. Do you still, I mean, do you like it?”
His gaze softened and he reached up to cup my cheek. “I have loved you for 15 years, Y/N. I loved you human form. Your small body, your beautiful soft hair, and your light eyes. I loved every moment of our life together.”
The tears threatened to return.
“But this... this is my dream, Y/N. I see it now, what you’ve always seen. You were meant to be one of The People, to be with me, to be the mother of my children and my mate for life.”
A smile spread across my new face so wide, I thought it might crack. “I love you, Neteyam.”
He pulled me into his strong arms, and we took a deep breath together.
“Forever,” he whispered in my ear.
I squeezed him tight. “Forever.”
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luminiamore · 2 months
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ᴜᴋɪʏᴏ
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𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
..
                         ❦ ════ •⊰ ☯︎ ⊱• ════ ❦
ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇɪᴀɴ ᴇʀᴀ..
“Sister, there is another curse the locals are screaming about. He’s been burning a few villages, and the casualties have been so horrifying, it’s starting to alert the Gojō Clan.” A soft and blunt tone slightly echoed throughout an empty castle. Ryojin stood, arms folded and eyes shut, mirroring the cursed spirit seated on the throne beside him.
“Is that so?” The reply was a whisper, a hint of disinterest lingering. She couldn’t fathom a reason to care; the sorcerers are always quick to exorcise a threat. The woman, the curse, opened one of her closed eyes to gaze at her brother. 
He hums in response, “He seems to be making a name for himself. I would like to meet him.” His proposal caused Akuryo to tilt her head a bit. For what?
She sighed and waved him off, “For what, Ryo? Those puny sorcerers will get rid of him by the end of the today.” 
“That’s the thing, sister, they’re scared of him! He’s killed every last one that’s tried to exorcise him!” Both of his eyes widened as a bright, deranged smile began forming on his face. He laughed maniacally; he was excited. And it just hit Akuryo that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him this happy. Now, her interest is piqued.
He goes on, “I’d like to fight him. Do you think he’s stronger than me?” His tone was smug as if he already knew the answer.
She stays silent for a moment, stronger than him? Akuryo’s cursed energy was insurmountable, and to be entirely fair, she was so humble about it. The spirit was callous, responsible for the death of a quarter of the world’s population. She went global- outside of Japan entirely. 
She was a force to be reckoned with, and she couldn’t be stopped. She refused. And her brother, Ryojin, became a curse user all too quickly. 
The many sorcerers, from the Kamo Clan, the Zenin, the Inumaki, Fujiwara- hell, she even managed to get the Gojō clan to realize she was a severe threat to their survival; it was almost pitiful how they all failed to exorcise her. 
It was as if they weren’t the strongest sorcerers of their time. They couldn’t touch her, and she barely had to use her cursed techniques. Akuryo kept this in mind as she contemplated Ryo’s question. While he belonged to no clan, his cursed energy was almost on the same level as hers. Almost. 
She had half a mind to kill him for it, but she refused to lose the only person who cared about her; that human part of her had never left. 
“No,” She replied earnestly and huffed out a breath before she began again, “However, I’d like to find out. Shall we?” 
Ryo tried. He did, but he noticed he managed to get Akuryo interested. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t suppress the chilling laughter that erupted as soon as his sister spoke. The sound echoed through the vacant castle, startling nearby crows. A real challenge, he prayed to himself it would be. And a real challenge it will be.
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They strolled, following the sound of screams that grew louder the closer they got. She began to sense his potent, overwhelming energy, and for the first time in decades, a faint smile adorned her beautiful ebony features. She wasn’t one to hand out praise so quickly, but even she couldn’t deny how formidable his entire aura was.
She could tell he wasn’t stronger than her. He had the potential to surpass her power if one day she happened to die; she could also make out that much. The thought of it made her shiver in anticipation. Who is this curse? Who was the spirit that could invoke such a reaction from her, of all beings? She wanted to know desperately. 
There was a hint of something else underlying his intense energy, making her heart beat faster. If she was confused, she made no show of it. She didn’t know what this feeling was, and if there was one thing she hated, it was not knowing.
 She spotted a nearby castle, its presence evoking a sense of petrifying dread. She stopped abruptly, her brother following suit once he realized why. Someone else is here.
Out of nowhere, a freezing mist makes its way toward the both of them. Akuryo blocks it with her hand before it has the chance to reach her vicinity, the ice that formed shortly after shattering completely. Oh?
“Show yourself, curse user,” Ryo spoke for his sister, his tone utterly tranquil with a subtle pinch of annoyance. He didn’t appreciate attacks from afar.
There was no response, only the same attack coming quickly than the one before. This time, it was Ryo who blocked it effortlessly. He steps forward, closing his eyes when he stops. He breathes in, taking in the scent of the destroyed village. The minute his eyes open, medium-sized balls of hot melting lava and fireballs from his relaxed hand race in every direction, setting large fires on everything they touch.
“You hit someone,” Akuryo whispered to her brother. Her ears tingled as they quickly picked up on footsteps hurriedly rushing away from them. 
Ryo clutched his sister’s hand, and with a swift step, they were directly in front of the castle. The gate loomed large, crafted from pure bone and metal—human bones, to be precise. Akuryo found herself internally commending his design style; the bones’ patterns were intricate and captivating. 
She was in awe, but she didn’t know she was. She was familiar only with feelings of rage and indifference, requiring significant effort to provoke even the slightest hint of upset from her. She was evermore eager to meet this curse.
With a mere wave of her hand, the gate fractures into pieces, the sheer force of the action causing the wind to whip her hair back. 
A path of dried blood and scattered bones led to the castle door. As Akuryo approached the towering entrance, a deep, authoritative voice called out before she could make contact,
“I will kill you,” His voice, she thought. It’s so.. sinister, arrogant, mildly flirtatious? It demanded attention, and it definitely had hers. Her cheeks would’ve been red had her skin been light enough. What the hell is happening to her? 
“Do you promise?” She replies, her tone low and light, but even he could tell she was amused rather than scared. Sukuna had never faced a challenge, never encountered a curse that aroused anticipation within him. Sensing her energy before Uraume rushed at him with the upper side of their arm severely burned, he found himself undeniably intrigued—deeply so...
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previous chapter
a/n: let’s assume uraume wasn’t that good in reversed cursed technique in this era so she couldn’t heal herself that fast :)
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Note
HiHiHi
So do can u do a Luke Castellan x Child of Persephone (or SMT Idrc)reader and She HAS THE BIGGEST DELULU EVER
Like Imagine Luke faked breaking up with her and she’s like “no no 🥰 I want my kids have that big brown eyes My dear” Or Smt in the lines of that and Luke laughs his but off and ITS JUST HER DELULU OVER COMING HER
Thank you so much for your request! <3
Luke Castellan x fem!persephone!reader fluff
Requested?: Yes!!
I hope you are all well, i love you all!! Have a nice day and enjoy!
Reader cursing at Luke is her love language
Masterlist
Luke was always struggeling to keep up relationships with people. He had Chris as the ever lasting person in his life since they first met at Camp Halfblood when they were 14 years old. After that, everyone was coming and going but noone really stayed for long.
You only joined his life later. Having spent most of your life in the Underworld with your mother, social normes and interactions with living people were a riddle to you.
Long story short, you were... a challenge for most people. Not that they didnt like you. The younger kids loved you and even Dionysus gave you a smirk whenever you left behind a slightly distressed demigod that tried to challenge you.
Maybe you weren't from this realm but that certainly did not mean that you didn't like it at the camp. You were craving the space that the Underworld couldn't offer you. It was only a matter of time that someone would fall for you.
By chance, that was a certain son of Hermes. Luke fell for you just as bad as you fell for him. You knew he was complicated. He was reaching for the stars but got disappointed over and over again since he was a baby.
Luke was in a bad headspace today. He didnt really know when the idea crept up to him. Maybe it was because the gods let him down for one too many times. He had been questioning your love for him for the last few days while he rotted away in bed, trying not to neglect too many of his tasks.
He needed proof of your love. Proof that you would not leave him behind like everyone else did. He contemplated talking to you but proud as he was, he quickly discarded that idea and stirred up a plan instead.
A fake breakup.
It would give him the opportunity to see your raw reaction. And he could find out if you were serious about him. Or even glad to get rid off him? Luke didn't want to think about that. He loved you after all.
"You entered the Hermes Cabin after sword practice this afternoon. You were a little sweaty and your clothes had dust stains on it from the sand in the arena. Luke was laying on his bed, his arm covering his eyes. You thought that maybe he was sleeping so you tiptoed over to your bed and started taking off your boots.
Luke shuffled on his bed and groaned as he sat up. He smiled tiredly as he looked up to find you watching him. "Hey." He mumbled but his expression dropped soon. You looked at him confused.
"What's up, darling?" You asked while you put your boots to the side. Luke got up and approached you. "I thought about something all day... can we talk?" He asked. You nodded. "Of course. What's bothering you?"
Luke looked around. Besides the two of you, everyone was out of the cabin running around somewhere else. The situation was perfect... He sighed. "I... there is something." He said hesitating, fiddling with his hands. This was not normal. You frowned. Your Luke was never this nervous about talking to you.
"Im breaking up with you." He whispered in a low tone, barely able to get the words over his lips. He could see your world shatter into pieces. Your expression dropped and a couple of dead moths fell from the ceiling, making Luke cringe away a little.
Finally, you broke out of your freezed and shocked state.
"What?! No, no, no, no." You said, tears dwelling up in your eyes. Luke tried to pull his gaze away from you and turned around to the cabin door. There formed a single tear in his eyes too. He hated seeing you cry.
You grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to face you. "Why would you break up with me?" You sobbed. Luke looked at you irritated, trying to keep his sadness down. "You deserve someone better than me." He grumbled under his breath. You pushed him against the wall by his shoulders angrily.
"I wanted our kids to have your eyes." You yelled at Luke, tears streaming down your face. "What?" Luke asked, suddenly taken aback. You violently tried to whip the tears from your face, smearing some dust onto your cheeks.
"Our kids need to have your eyes!" You sobbed and suddenly Luke wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him. You tried to push him away but he kept you in his embrace. After a few seconds, you stop trying to free yourself and let your head fall against his chest.
At first you thought Luke was crying too, from the way his shoulders were moving up and down in a quick, steady rhythm but soon you noticed that the bastard was actually laughing.
"I hate you." You mumbled between a few sniffs. "I know." Luke whispered, there was a light chuckled in his voice that he failed to swallow down. "Thats okay. Its what i deserve."
"Luke Castellan, i hate you so, so much. We will meet in Tartarus if you dont quit the bullshit right now." You weakly slapped his chest. "But i love you. Please, this was not real?" Your sobs died down as you leaned against his chest.
Luke swallowed heavily and finally, after a long moment, shook his head. You exhaled and sobbed again, this time because of the relief rushing through your body.
You leaned up to wrap your arms around him too, holding him close. You buried your hand in his hair and made him look at you. "You were kidding, right?" Luke nodded hesitantly, worried you would make some more dead animals fall from the sky.
You wanted to slap Luke. But that is not what you do to your boyfriend, at least not right now. Instead you rested your head on his shoulder and rubbed your tears dry on his tshirt.
"Hey." Luke complained, trying to push you off but you pressed him against the wall and continued to use him as your personal tissue paper. "That's your punishment, you idiot." Luke carassed your hair and let you go on with you drying your tears.
"Why did you do this?" You asked. Luke looked away, ashamed that he actually thought this was a good idea. You put a hand on his cheek and made him look at you. "This is not what i think about it is, is it?" You asked with a shocke expression.
Luke nodded slowly, lowering his gaze. You sighed and leaned against his forehead. "I really love you, otherwise i wouldn't keep you as my boyfriend. Luke nodded slowly, accepting.
"Luke?" "Mhh?" He hummed. "Will you be my boyfriend again?" You asked. A slight smile crept up on your face but you tried to hide it to not let Luke win just right away. Luke chuckled, his mood becoming a little better again. "If you truly want that." You groaned and bumped your head on his shoulder a few times.
"Just say yes, you morron." "Yes." He whispered. You pet his hair a little. "Good boy." You grinned at Luke, who now rolled his eyes. "But i am not having children with you until we both got a job." He argued but it ended up in a laugh. He was laughing at the absurdity of this situation.
Now it was you rolling your eyes. "Fine. Reasonable." You grumbled and pouted at him a little. Luke smiled and wrapped his arms around you extra tight. "Did you mean it? My eyes, really?" He asked. You huffed.
"I was never before this serious in my life." You stated firmly. Luke leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You scrunched your nose sweetly and peppered his face with small kisses.
"So... if i mess up you will throw dead animals at me?" Luke asked mockingly, as you pulled back. You grumbled and slapped Luke's chest again.
"If you dont cut the bullshit, i will stuff a dead rat into your pillow case."
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vxntagedior · 1 year
Text
if i ever talk to you that way
summary | remus is concerned about the reaction you gave to him after he pulled a prank on you, based on this tiktok
pairing | dealer!remus lupin x fem!reader
warning | angst, fluff, grumpy/sunshine, mentions of slapping
word count | 1.0k
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Profanities weren’t anything new to Remus, they had been integrated into his vocabulary since he could remember. Along with that, hearing him swear wasn’t anything new to you, you heard it constantly when he talked to people who came to buy from him. 
But that tough personal, would wash away whenever he was around you. The brute dealer who turns into mush when he’s around you. Remus liked to keep you and the rest of his world separate, he didn’t want you around all the stuff he did, and made a promise to himself that he would never talk to you the way he would talk to the deadbeats who came to buy. 
James and Sirius made fun of him constantly, saying that he was just puddy whenever you were around. And each time, he’d curse them out saying they would be the same if they had someone like you in their life.
He couldn’t taint someone like you when his profession, constantly Remus thought if you were truly right in the mind being with him, and though hearing you reassure him endlessly, making sure you told him ‘I love you’ at least once a day, Remus still couldn’t believe what he ever did to deserve you. 
Remus lavished you, made sure you had everything you wanted and more, because he was happy when you were happy. 
-
“Fuck off!” Remus swore at his best friend (even though you were his actual best friend). “I’m not doing that to her.”
James and Sirius had met you a handful of times and they could tell how sweet Remus was on you, and after seeing how Remus acts around everyone else, they wanted to do a little test. 
Sirius was the first to think of it. He remembered how you liked making dinner for Remus when he came home. Remus never asked, never requested anything, just eating whatever you made because he hadn't had a home cooked meal in a long time. 
James had practically set up the whole situation, when he came home, calling you a bitch, while asking you what's for dinner. Remus stared in horror at his friends, he couldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t call any bad name. Both boys were even shocked when Remus agreed, though they now owe Remus something in the future. 
Driving home that night, Remus contemplated actually going through with it. He loved you and could never do that to you, but he truly wanted to see how you would react to him. 
Pulling into the driveway, turning the engine off, Remus’s hands were still on the steering wheel. Seeing the curtains open, letting him look through the window, seeing you in the kitchen, moving around the kitchen, prepping for dinner. 
“She’s tough.” He muttered to himself, Remus taught you to make sure to stand up for yourself, making sure you don’t take shit from anyone. “She’ll put me in my place.”
Hearing the door open, and the footsteps coming closer and closer, just as you were about to speak, Remus beat you to it.
“Bitch, what’s for dinner?” Remus was already wincing at his tone. 
Your eyes widened, turning away from the stove to face him. Remus watched the hopeful glimmer in your eye fade away, your entire face fallen. Composing yourself together, not wanting to cry in front of him, you answered meekly. 
“Grilled cheese.” It came out as a whisper, letting the air travel your words. 
Just for a split second, Remus looked at you before his eyes softened. You had looked scared of him, your body was shielding itself from him. 
“If I ever.” Remus started, trying not to have his voice waver, he felt terrible in that moment, not being the person he promised you would be, because right now, you looked scared of him. “Ever, talk to you that way, you smack me right across the face.”
Your eyes finally shifted to his, hearing the sincere voice in his voice, the pleading look in his eyes, just wanting to say something to him. 
“Okay?” He finished, still not hearing a word from you, scared to death that you’d just leave him in the kitchen alone. 
“Okay.” You answered, still in that soft voice, like you were scared to raise your voice any louder. 
Remus strided across the kitchen, coming up to you, pulling you into him. Tightly wrapping his arms around you, your face pressed against his chest. Finally feeling you wrap your arms around him, he let out a deep breath, one that he didn’t know what he was holding. 
Pulling away from you, bringing his hand up to your face, thumb tucked under your jaw, the rest of his hand resting against your cheek, caressing your skin softly. 
“Do it.” He whispered. You looked back up at him confused, “Smack me.”
“Rem I can’t do that.” You shook your head rapidly, “It’s okay, I understand but-”
“Please.” He closed his eyes, “For a split second, you looked scare of me, I never want to make you scared of me again.”
You never answered, Remus closing his eyes awaiting his fate. Feeling a small brush against his cheek, he peeked open his eyes, “You practicing?”
He tried to lighten up the situation.
“I did it, I slapped you.” You answered. 
“Love, you brushed your fingers against my cheek.” He closed his eyes, a grin forming on his lips. 
“That was.” You protested, not wanting to argue, he just agreed, finally unwrapping his around you. 
“You okay dove?” He asked, not wanting to leave the situation with unanswered questions, “You know I’d never intentionally wanted to do that to you, James and Sirius thought of the idea.”
“Seems like them.” You hummed, turning back flipping your grilled cheese, smiling at the little charred pieces. 
Coming up behind you, Remus rested his chin on your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple. 
“Do I still get dinner?” 
Twisting your head to the side, he looked like a puppy who had been caught clawing at the couch. 
“Of course.” You pressed a kiss to his chin, “Can never stay mad at you.”
fin.
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