#there wasn't anything left to put in charisma | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zombatss · 1 year

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𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊: 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 — smut, afab!reader, blowjobs & riding, p in v, creampie, face-fucking, slight breeding kink, switch!peeta, overstimulation, squirting, fingering

peeta mellark is a loser.

you often wonder how your boyfriend always radiates charisma whenever he’s in public. infront of cameras, he’s charming, confident, keeps himself composed.

he’ll always keep things professional—even with you. the most you’ll get out of him during a social event is a chaste kiss or a soft peck on the cheek, denying you of anything more.

it amuses you, the way he puts up such an outgoing front. how he treats you like a coworker playing pretend lovers because he can’t keep his dick in his pants whenever you get too touchy.

just imagine the capitol’s reaction if they found out their ‘charming prince’ from district twelve was also just a whining bitch.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

“what the hell was that?” peeta sighs as he drags you into the guest bedroom and locks the door behind you.

“i have no idea what you're on about.” you whisper, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

“oh, so you just feeling up on me back there was nothing?” he scoffs.

“it was a light touch. it isn’t my fault you’re sensitive.” you hum, a grin tugging at your lips as you watch his breath hitch.

“the sponsers could’ve seen you.”

“but they didn’t.”

“they could’ve.”

“so what if they did? what’s so wrong with giving them a show? it’s what they want.” you refute, walking closer towards him.

“you—can't just wait till we get back, huh?” he sighs, gulping as you inch closer towards him.

“what did you expect, peeta? how can i keep my hands to myself when you just look so good tonight?” you mock, palming the growing bulge in his pants.

“we can’t—not now.” he sighs.

“we aren’t even tonight's center of attention. nobody will notice that we’ve left.” you smile.

your hands run down his tense thighs as you slowly place your knees on the carpet, gazing up at him with those doll-like eyes that you know drives him crazy.

“you don’t have to do this.” he whispers, his hand making his way down to your cheek as his fingers curl around your jaw—the pad of his thumb rubbing small, gentle circles across your skin.

“you know you won't make it through the night without my help.” you hum, unzipping his pants and pulling his member out. it’s already red and hard, precum leaking out the minute you palm it.

“aren’t you a little excited tonight?” you tease, placing soft kisses over its veins and along the sides.

“you aren’t the only one that’s had to hold back all day.” he mutters, his hand finding a place around the top of your head.

he didn't do anything but watch as the end of your tongue slowly licked up the precum from his tip’s slit. he holds back a moan as you feel his grip tighten ever so slightly around your hair.

“fuck, you’re—ah—mmhph” he whimpers.

his words are shortly cut off the moment you take him into your mouth. never will he get used to just how warm you feel when he’s inside you.

his cock pushes at the back of your throat as you swallow him whole, struggling to resist the urge to buck his hips into your wet mouth.

thankful for the lively crowd in the room next door, you listen to his quiet whimpers and moans. his eyebrows furrow together in pleasure as he his puppy eyes stare down at you. more, is what they begged, and who were you to deny him of his need?

his hips slowly jerked and twitched as you bobbed your mouth up and down along his length, your moans vibrating onto him. it was cute, how he tried his best to keep his composure and not fuck your mouth dumb—but you wanted more. so, you gave him a reassuring look, pushing yourself as deep as you could go as he stared into your lustful eyes.

peeta had always been able to read you like a book, so it wasn't hard to understand your expression. if you were to so generously invite him to not hold back, who was he to refuse?

he experimentally rolls his hips into you, letting out a shuddering breath when he feels you swallow around him—his free hand laced into your hair. when you gag around him but still try to take him further, he thrusts deeper, his cock twitching. “fuck, you feel so—good—shit.” he moans, quickening his pace.

“wait a minute—hah—don't want to—cum yet.” you slowly pull back as he stops rolling his hips, trying to catch your breath.

the moment you lift yourself up, he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, sliding his tongue into your wet mouth as he tasted the flavour of your spit and his precum mixed with his own saliva. the two of you let out muffled moans as your mouths pressed together. though, it wasn’t long before he broke the kiss and wasted no time to take things one step forward.

“on the bed.” he simply stated. you climbed onto the mattress and sat on your knees, waiting for his next instruction. instead of words, he drew you into his lap, your thighs on either side of his waist.

“lift yourself a little.” he whispered, watching as you silently raised your hips. you sighed as your short dress was completely unzipped and thrown to the floor, your panties pushed down to your knees, completely exposing you to him.

“gotta make you feel good too.” he mumbles, his large hands rubbing up and down your inner thighs.

you softly moan as he continues to tease you, rubbing right near your cunt but trailing his hand back down before actually touching you. you sigh in relief once his hand finally makes it's way up, gently rubbing against your clit and the folds of your cunt.

it’s embarrassing, how you’re already soaking wet and so welcoming to his fingers as they slowly enter you. you sigh as you feel his hand slowly fill you up, bottoming out.

and the moment his fingers started curling deep inside of you, your silent whimpers turned into growing moans.

“peeta—fuck, you’re so deep, oh my god—” you slurred, your thighs trembling as he picks up his pace. you begin to burst into loud moans the moment he begins thrusting them at an unspeakable pace. feeling so full, you cried out as his fingers plowed into you mercilessly. his hand snaked up to your mouth, muffling your sounds as he went faster.

“don’t be too loud unless you want everyone out there to hear you.” he whispers, replacing his hand with his mouth. you whimpered and cried, trying your best to keep all those pretty sounds inside as his fingers curled inside you, ramming your cunt at an unfathomable speed.

you could feel your climax as heat started to build up in your stomach. you were so, so close. and then, just as you were about to cum, there was nothing. he pulled out, denying you your release.

“don’t look at me like that, i’ll make sure to fill you up real good.” he whispers, taking off his top and removing his bottoms.

your bodies pressed against each other as you strattled yourself back onto him, the folds of your wet cunt rubbing against his leaking member.

“fuck, i’ll never get used to seeing this.” he hitched, placing his hands at your hips as the two of you grinded into each other.

“let me give you want you need, peeta.” you whisper, placing a soft kiss onto his cheek before pulling back. he only watches, his half-lidded eyes following your every move as you palm his shaft, positioning yourself over him. you spread your legs and took your time pushing into him, burrying yourself deep inside, inch by inch.

“fuck—you're so wet.” he moans.

when you finally bottomed out, your hips took control and began painfully slowly riding him out while gradually increasing your pace. you wanted to watch his desperation escalate.

it didn’t take long for his whimpers to turn into growing moans as he began whining your name. he started rolling his hips with yours, picking up the pace, and you weren't sure you could hold yourself up much longer.

his sloppy rolls turned into intense ramming as you continued to ride him. he thrusted into you, hitting that deep spot over and over again. you writhed in pleasure, letting out a loud moan. the unrelenting rhythm was everything, the feeling taking you to your peak.

“fuck, peeta! you’re too—mmph’–fast! hhmmph! oh my god—ah!” you cried, your legs shaking as you bobbed up and down his cock.

“you’re so tight, i need you so bad—i’m gonna—fuck—“ before he could finish his sentence, he pulled you down, suddenly flipping you over. your back was pressed against the mattress as he continued his thrusts.

“i’m gonna cum—peeta, wait–mmmph!” you cried, suddenly feeling his hand press against your overstimulated clit, his fingers pressing down as he plowed into you. your hands pushed at his abs as you were on the verge of cumming.

“please, i need to—inside—ah—“ he slurred, his thrusts reaching the fastest he could possibly go. “let me cum inside you—give you my babies.”

“give the capitol what they want—“ he moaned, applying more pressure onto your clit as he rammed into you.

“peeta! i'm—holy shit—fuck!" you could only scream as as you felt a giant gush of heat pool in your stomach. your entire body trembled as you began squirting on his dick—but peeta wouldn’t pull out, he only thrusted himself further into you as you continued your spasm.

“it feels so good!” you whined, feeling so full from his dick filling your cunt as you continued squirting.

“f-fuck.” he moaned, listening to the juices of your cunt squelch inside and around him.

“don’t… don’t pull out—“ you cried, shaking as you gradually came down from your high. your juices slowly leaked out and soaked the mattress, his cock still buried deep inside you.

but your sighs were only interrupted by shrieks the moment peeta started thrusting into you again, overstimulating you after such a short rest.

“wait—ah—peeta! i can’t—'s too much!” you slurred, watching as your juices continued to squirt out every time he thrusted into you.

“i’m—i’m gonna cum—mmph—ah—come on, please, cum with me again, please—” he whined, rutting into you like an animal. as he felt you tighten onto him once again, he pulled you into a kiss, his tongue swirling around yours as his hand pushed your back up, your whole bodies fully pressed against each other as he fucked you stupid.

you whimpered against his mouth as the heat began to build up once more, but his lips muffling your moans as you squirted around him for the second time. his cock stuffed you, slowly grinding but never fully leaving your cunt as the squelches of your wetness slowly squirted out everytime he thrusted.

he let out a long moan as he came inside you, followed by whines and whimpers of your name as the two of you rode your highs together.

once you both finally relaxed, he pulled out. you watched as a gush of your liquid spilled out of you, his semen slowly seeping out and dripping down your cunt.

“i should provoke you more often.” you weakly sigh, brushing the hair out out of your face with your fingers. he only scoffs as he pulls you into a soft, gentle kiss.

you wonder how long the two of you were gone for from the event, but you had bigger things to worry about—like how in the world you’ll possibly be able to walk back home.

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #peeta smut #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark x reader smut

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mrsnancywheeler · 3 months

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the river (2) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

the end of a trilogy series

previous chapter / next chapter

masterlist

6.1k words

warnings: angst, fluff, self-destructive behavior, finnick's bias now so you can see how they both view the other as the more broken one, mental health issues, allusions to suicide, allusions to trafficking and trauma surrounding it, the opposite of a slowburn it's giving their soulmates, mentions of death/torture/violence/brainwashing, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Seeing your face again could have sent Finnick into another frenzy, he'd been scared he'd forget it even though he thought about it every second of every day. But he couldn't do that, he needed to listen, hear your voice again. You had that smile plastered on your face that everyone could easily believe in, and had for years, except him. There was a mournful, numb look that would settle in the back of your eyes whenever you put on a performance, one that usually leads to dissociation. On top of that, you looked tired, the way you looked when after you'd won your Games and hadn't been able to escape the nightmares.

Your voice was like music in his ears when you greeted Ceasar back, a tune that could soothe his soul if he wasn't so worried about you. It pained him to notice that in the midst of everything, of holding you captive, of the rebellion, they'd still managed to play dress up with you. Goosebumps covering your skin, the outfit barely covered any of you, you'd always run cold, and the Capitol seemed to know this. “So you're saying you knew nothing about the rebel plan?"

You shook your head emphatically, “No, I told you all how sure I was that I was never coming out of that arena. It was just as much of a shock to me." His clever, clever girl, trying so hard to play it safe.

“At the end you were screaming about forgetting something, what was that?" Caesar asked.

The tracker. The stupid tracker. "Finnick…" You trailed off, looking into the camera for a second like you were trying to reach out to him, “We had a special way of communicating with each other that comes with being together that long, I needed to find him, I still don't remember why.”

"So did he know about the rebel plan?”

Your foot was tapping slightly and Finnick prayed, for your sake, that no one else knew how anxious that indicated you were. “If he did, he didn't tell me." You looked at the camera again, addressing the citizens of the Capitol, "And I want everyone to know that if he did know anything, he would only do it if he thought it meant we could be together. He would never want this, the rebellion, the terror, both of us love all of you and Panem so much. His intentions would've been of love, not harm.”

Finnick was so proud that your years of charisma for the Capitol was pulling through now. He felt like he was going to cry, the way you were defending him in the off chance that everything went wayward and he also ended up in Capitol clutches somehow. Maybe, if Snow really thought you knew nothing, he'd consider you more than just bait, maybe there'd be quite a few of these interviews left to boost morale for Capitol citizens. To see one of their favorite victors spewing out propaganda, it would also keep you alive longer, so out of all things that's what Finnick would place his hopes on.

“Peeta called for a ceasefire, would you agree with this, that things should just be called off?” You glanced off camera, anxiously scratching at your arms.

"Yes, a ceasefire needs to be called.” Your smile reeked of discomfort and fear, and he was even more grateful that it was something only he knew how to sense from you. “The destruction being caused, the death, will get so much worse if this continues. No one wants that, this can all be sorted out. President Snow is merciful, but only if a ceasefire is called for.” It was sickening, the lies you were being forced to tout. Snow was anything but merciful, he'd probably throw the victors into the arena again, or just line them all up to be shot, or make death causing ‘accidents’ occur as soon as possible. Then you were crying and Finnick longed to hold you, to tell you it would be okay, to give any words of comfort he could. "I'm sorry, so much has happened recently.”

"Well us in the Capitol are glad to still have you with us." Finnick hated that they had you, that Caesar could still force you to perform for all of Panem and act like you're fine.

"I'm glad to be here with all of you too!” You mutter through tears and your signature, fake smile.

"Before we go, is there anything you want to say if the rebels are watching out there, if Finnick, your husband is watching out there?”

“He's not a rebel." You say quickly, with as much urgency as you can. Your eyes shut for a second and you're muttering to yourself, “He's my husband, he's not a rebel, not a rebel."

"Right, he's not a rebel.” Caesar says with what's supposed to be a comforting smile.

Your eyes open and you nod, wiping away stray tears, “And I'm just reminding everyone how badly we need a ceasefire, to stop all of this. To stop the suffering and all that could come.” Your smiling again, so forced it looks like it hurts and you're rubbing your necks until it's red, "Ceasefire, ceasefire, ceasefire is important.” It's like you're chasing a thought you're being forced to remember.

“Yes, a ceasefire is important." Caesar nods, "Well a big thank you to the Capitol Princess for her message here today.” Your smile drops as you nod at the camera before it cuts and Finnick has been once again abandoned with his thoughts.

What are they doing to you to convince you to say things you would never believe? How sweet you are for insisting upon his innocence anyway you can, he misses you more than home, the ocean, the feeling of fresh air in his lungs, the sun shining down on his face, he would happily live without it all if you could just be here, with him. You'd looked so exhausted and he misses being able to hold you, keep you warm so you could rest and feel safe when you did. He longs to see your genuine smile, the way your eyes would soften and the way your nose crinkled when you laughed.

A fantasy he can drive himself into before the anger can fall back into place, how he needs to hijack something so he can rescue you. He'd rage to President Coin herself if he could force her to do it, but they barely even let him out of the hospital wing. He's sobbing again, calloused hands trying to clear his face of the tears. Maybe they think he hasn't seen it, so they aren't worried about his reaction, they probably assume he's sleeping or focused on tying his knots, but it's just the eye of the hurricane. He can only stain the plain, scratchy sheets with his tears for so long before the hysteria will return. But for now he can mourn. He can hate himself, wish the rope was long enough to let him leave, and wish you could've both just chosen to be together in death. It would've been better then torture he's going through now. How there's not a second he can't focus on you, what he misses, what he dreads could be happening to you, the dreams of your future.

Dreams where you could be at home, surrounded by friends and family having the traditional District 4 wedding, sea shanty's and all. Where there was no fear that Snow would manipulate the games to force your children to be spectacles so you'd had children, as many as you wanted. Who you'd take to the beach, teach them about the animals, teach them to swim, and be the family he knows deep down you'd both have wished for. There'd been a glimpse where that was possible and then there'd been the impending doom that it wasn't. That instead it would be the wish he had when they told him you were dead.

Death. You. The idea that death could creep up with its slender hands and drag you away into the cavernous pit, that would leave him forever alone. He'd gratefully dig the claws of death into himself to bring you back or lay with you in the lowest parts of the cliffs forever. Death. You. Him. Freedom. Chains broken, no more threats, no more needs, just the end with you.

Instead he needed to face the brazen winds to return you to his arms. You'd looked so cold and he missed being able to warm you, for you to cool him down. He had to get you back and the frenzy was back. Finnick was back on his feet, tearing himself from the bed, not giving a care to the things around him, if they fell to the floor it was something else out of his way. This commotion did alert the medics close by and Finnick was instantly trying to run by them.

“We have to save her, I need to save her!” He urged, but they were used to his antics. They'd long ago retrieved the manpower required to overpower him when he got like this. That didn't mean he still wouldn't fight, he still had the strength it took to shove most of them off, react violently when they got their hands on him, and struggle when eventually a larger group had their arms on him, ready to sedate once again. Maybe that was a good thing though, it allowed him to fully focus all of his thoughts on you and everything you two had.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He was early, but he didn't care, well he kind of did when he paced by the cobblestones not far from your house wondering when he should knock. Wicker picnic basket being moved between each of his hands, careful not to hit the bouquet of flowers he was holding, as he anxiously counted down. Finnick knew he said noon, but did that mean five minutes before would be the right time to show up? 10 minutes? Exactly at noon? He wasn't used to feeling this anxious, he'd adopted a suave personality for Panem to gobble up that had become nearly effortless, but now he wanted desperately for you to ignore that and just be perfect.

The gift he had for you weighed heavy in the pocket of his shorts. He wanted to give it to you, he hoped you'd like it because he really wanted to see that smile that he'd daydreamed about again. He checked his watch, 13 minutes, and the worry was still there. Would you be scared off if you looked outside to see him waiting so early or would you find it sweet? What if you were inside anxiously waiting for him because you doubted it was real, because you wanted it to be genuine, and he reasoned from what he did know it was probably the correct assumption. You were too full of self-doubt, of an unspoken want to be seen, to be realized, and he wanted nothing more than to really comprehend each intricate detail that made you, you.

‘Fuck it,’ He told himself when he made his way up the cracked cement, the grass and weeds peeking through. All the way up the two steps on your crickety porch, light blue paint peeling away to reveal the rotting chunks of wood. Slowly he tapped his knuckles on the wooden door, hoping the knocks didn't seem aggressive, but were enough to gain attention. Since when had he worried about the way his knocks were perceived? Only to gain a chance to perceive you.

The door creaked open and there you were, glowing in another beautiful sundress. “Hi!” Your smile was enough to wash away most of his anxieties even if your own voice seemed riddled with them, he despised the fact you felt anything less than sure of yourself, then sure of his interest in you.

“Good morning, angel." Morning? Afternoon? Did he care which one was more accurate, did you? Finnick pulled on his dazzling smile, feeling like he was swept up by you.

He pulled the bouquet up, "Um, I got these for you.” You stared at them for what felt like an eternity and made him blush, scared he'd misread something,"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just-”

"They’re for me?” Features so soft it made his heart want to melt already, even the smile was so sweet and fond.

“Yeah, they're for you. These ones just reminded me of you." He wasn't about to say he'd spent hours at Mags this morning trying to pick the perfect flowers from her garden that he thought you would not only adore, but that gave off your very essence.

“They're perfect." You said in a soft amazement,"Really perfect.” Your fingers brush through them before you're ever so gently taking them from him,"Thank you.”

Flowers were definitely a win, something that could rely on for you to adore. “Of course, sweet girl." You smiled as you smelled the flowers and he concluded that you didn't get many gifts, even one's as easy as that. He'd plant garden after garden to keep you smiling like that. You shut the door and it clicked behind you as you stepped towards him, porch creaking.

“Really, thank you, Finnick." To his surprise you hugged him and how cold you were was almost as shocking, you had such a warm, inviting aura that it was hard to imagine the icincess of your skin. Yet he melted into it, he'd always been so warm that it was nice to have something to contradict that, like when he went for his early morning swim. You smelled the peaches and the ocean, it was delightful and an aroma he'd always want to remember. He longed for your touch to return the moment you pulled away and suddenly he was just hot again. He must have stood there staring and longing for a while because your melodic voice stopped this, “So, are we planning on standing here all day?”

“No, no sorry!" He shook his head, breaking into a nervous chuckle as he tilted his head to the side. You laughed as you began walking down the rickety steps and he followed. “How was dinner?" Maybe he was jealous, he shouldn't be, there was really no good reason to be, but he was.

You looked at Finnick for a moment, confused, like it hadn't quite processed in your brain. “Oh, yes! It went well!"

“What'd his sisters have for you?" The fond look you gave him for remembering a small moment in a conversation made his heart swell and he swore he'd remember everything about you.

“We like to try and find the prettiest things in the sand, seashells, sea glass, things like that and we all have little collections from each other. They're sweet."

“You're sweet."

“How would you know that, you don't know me." You said, fingers playing the flowers and trying to keep watch on the ground. The cobblestone was uneven, broken, crumbling apart and very just a tripping hazard.

“As you keep reminding me, it doesn't change the fact that you're sweet. ” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. His free hand slides into his pocket, “Saw something else that reminded me of you." He pulls out a necklace, something a vendor had made of shining seashell fragments and the occasional pearl, but something about it just seemed so much like you.

“Finnick." Your steps halted and he did the same,"I don't need you to buy me things.”

"I know, I want to buy you things.” The necklace dangled from his fingers, glistening in the rays of sun.

"But I don't have anything for you, so it's not-”

"You don't have to get me anything, I'm just spending time with you and I want to do it. Not because I feel obligated too, but because I like you.” Finnick reassured, this didn't have to be transactional, he just wanted to show you he paid attention, he cared.

You closed your eyes and sighed before nodding, “Okay."

“Unless you don't like it, in which case you should tell me now for future reference.”

“No, no, that's not what I mean, I mean I do, I just-"

“Need to get better at accepting gifts?" He finished, raising an eyebrow.

You scoffed, “I'm good at accepting gifts!" There was a beat of silence where the two of you both stared at each other, him with his brow still arched quizzically, before the two of you burst into laughter. “Sorry, that's not true."

“I can tell!" When the laughter had somewhat subsided, he took another step towards you, lifting the necklace slightly, “Here, let me help you." He was thankful for another chance to let his fingers ‘accidentally’ brush against the skin of your neck and be cooled by it.

His nimble fingers secured the clasp, "This seems to keep happening to us.” You said, trying not to bristle when his warm hands did in fact make slight contact with yours.

"Maybe I'm just a mastermind.” His voice was so close to your ear as he gave himself an extra second of touch before forcing himself to step back.

"Or maybe you're full of yourself." You turned back around to face him before the two of you continued on the walk.

Finnick shrugged, “Two things can be true."

“Maybe not those two." He felt like a lost puppy dog who'd trail behind you, at your beck and call, every single time you spoke. It was terrifying, bone chilling, to think he'd become infatuated from afar and now it was like he'd been bewitched. As if your aura had its own siren song attached to allure his own in and he'd gladly crash his ship on the rocky shores for you. Yet the fear was combated with the fact that you, the core of you, was closer to the shine of the lighthouse, guiding him to safety. A thin line between destruction and refuge.

Banter has easily continued until he'd finally led you to the beach locked behind the gates of Victors Village, its view was truly breathtaking. He laid out the blanket on the warm sand, picnic basket on top, and you'd already been rid of your sandals. You stood, arms out as the breeze blew through your arms, inhaling the salty air and Finnick would've sworn you were some type of ethereal blessing gifted to the Earth from the ocean itself. Slowly he lifted the lid on the wicker basket, “Here." He said, holding up a peach.

You opened your eyes to look over and he could see the instant surprise on them as you sat down, “Finnick!" You didn't take it from him, just put your hands around it to draw it closer as you smelled it like you weren't sure it was real. “Oh my god!" You exclaimed when you caught a glimpse of the bag of peaches within the basket.

“Thought it might convince you to not barter the necklace." He chuckled as if he hadn't been certain he'd buy the whole array of peaches to see you smile and hear your laugh, to see the spark in your eyes.

You paused to touch the necklace, suddenly serious, “I wouldn't do that." Your eyes were so gorgeous, so addictive, so kind. The type of eyes he wanted to gaze into until everything else had faded away. Every piece of art, every sunset, every sunrise, every star’s beauty lessened in comparison. “Finnick Odair, you can't be real." That shining smile had returned and he couldn't help but follow in your footsteps to give one back. “Seriously, you have to tell me what's wrong with you before I become too attached."

Finally you took the peach from his hand to bite into it, “Afraid I can't tell you yet, angel, scared you'd run away on me.” His tone was light enough to be a joke, but deep down he knew he'd never be able to tell you about the things that he felt the most self-loathing for, how self-destructive he could be would be something he'd try to keep you away from.

"Well you've already got me; hook, line, and sinker.” When you smiled and spoke, your nose would scrunch up in what he imagined was the most adorable thing possible. You stopped taking bites and quietly sat on the bed, observing him.

"No need to stare, I'm staying right here.”

"Oh my god, I could kiss you.” He wasn't even sure if you'd processed the words as you stared at him longer before your brain finally seemed to register what you'd said. The look of shock had barely begun to pass your face when he decided he'd just kiss you instead. Perhaps it was all too fast, a day for him to be tasting the peach on your lips, for his fingers to be on your cold face besides the slight warmth on your cheeks. Whirlwind romances were either tragedy's or a fairytale, so time would have to tell, but maybe it should've been a sign. The ending could be uncertain as it liked, but he was sure your souls were yoked in the first ocean tides to bless the world.

His nostrils filled with the scent of peaches and the salt air you had meshed with how you tasted like the peaches, once again, and vanilla. So calming, like he was being softly rocked in the waters, nothing less than perfect. When he finally pulled away from you all he wanted to do was be enveloped by the taste once again. You looked so flustered and taken aback, it was so precious to him. “I beat you to it, this time." Cocky smirk even if he was slightly breathless.

You nodded at him slowly with your eyes wide, like all thoughts had been taken from your head. Finnick would've said something else if it weren't for the refreshing chill of your hands grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss. He'd never get sick of peaches when they reminded him so much of you, if he was ever to be away he'd spend his time learning endlessly about them just to feel near. Although it couldn't compare with the way your lips molded to his so easily. Then there were your hands in his hair, something he usually couldn't stand, but when it was your gentle hands he couldn't find it anything but endearing. Eventually you'd pulled away as well, chest heaving, yet it was like you couldn't say a thing. Faces and bodies mere inches from each other as you stared at each other, listening to each other breathe.

Suddenly you were quickly removing yourself from him, running forward in the sand. “Where are you going?" Finnick called after you, somewhat terrified he'd scared you off. But you turned back to him smiling like you hadn't a care in the world.

“Swimming!" You shed yourself of the sundress to be just left in the swimsuit you wore underneath, “Are you coming?" Now it was Finnick's to scramble up, chasing you towards the water.

You must have spent hours swimming, like there was no other world except the now. He'd swim under the water, scaring you when he'd pull at your ankle and you'd fight back by trying to dunk him under the moment he bobbed to the top. This was usually unsuccessful as he'd simply drag you down with him, except when he wanted you to feel like you had succeeded. He'd randomly lift you from the waters and you'd screech for him to put you down and once or twice he'd used it as an excuse to kiss you again. After hours of similar actions the sound of the waves hitting the shore was the only thing that could be heard as you both waded to stay afloat.

Finnick stared out at the horizon, “I want to take you sailing when I get back."

“When you get back from what?" You asked, looking at him. Suddenly he was flooded with guilt, here he was dragging you along when he couldn't even be fully yours or honest about it. But he wanted to be with you so bad and for now that was all he had to cling onto.

It didn't mean he could look at you when he tried to explain it, so he looked down into the waters, “I'm supposed to leave for the Capitol tomorrow, just Victor related things.” He mumbled, shrugging off the mention.

"Oh, okay.” You didn't sound actually upset, "When will you be back?”

"A week at the most.” He peeked up at you through his eyelashes surprised to see you didn't look upset either, at most a little dejected that you wouldn't see him for so long.

"Well, we better have a killer party then to end all of this off, make sure you don't forget me.” You teased, raising your eyebrows.

"I could never forget about you… but you're not upset?"

You shot him a quizzical look, “Why would I be upset, we all have responsibilities, even if they come with different territory.” You shrugged and nearly fell backwards when he pressed his lips to yours again, steadying your back when you began to fall backwards. You had to be an angel who'd been sent to keep him sane and grace him, but a darker side of him urged him to realize he didn't deserve someone as understanding as you.

“You're so perfect." His arms held you and he looked at you with nothing less than amazement.

“I'm definitely not."

‘You’re perfect for me, we're perfect together,’ Finnick thought as he looked at you, water droplets running down your skin, breathing hard from all the excursions, eyes sparked with their usual twinkle and so many hidden thoughts he wanted to dive into. He accepted the conclusion that the only reason he would be feeling all this so fast would be because you were destined to be, all the stars had aligned for this moment, and the oceans had moved mountains to ensure this lifetime was no different. If you were Eurydice he had been your Orpheus, the Dante to your Beatrice, you would have been the Penelope to his Odysseus, regardless of any fate he knew there was never a life where you'd not been irrevocably bound together.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were going to be rescued, saved from the Capitol's grasps, and what had brought elation at first was quickly ruined when he learned that he couldn't help rescue you. He wasn't quite yet considered mentally stable enough for it, even if slowly he'd been able to mask it all better. Instead he had to stay in District 13 and do nothing but beg the universe to return you to him. Hadn't there been enough tragedy in your short lives? Hadn't there been enough tragedy in every other ending, in every other life? They should've let him brave death to bring you back, it would've settled him more then the torture of not knowing. Especially since he'd caught every airing you'd had from the Capitol which made him grateful that Katniss had wagered for your immunity. Snow had you begging for ceasefire, showing off outfits to parade, as if there wasn't a textile shortage, and it broke him when you seemed to be getting less sure of questions regarding him, regarding you. Then had been when Peeta announced the planned attack on District 13 and seeing you scream when he was violently attacked for the warning. A scream that would have forced Finnick to be sedated if it weren't for the more impending doom of the bombs.

Katniss was filming a distraction propo about Peeta, how he'd saved her, loved her from the beginning. It was intimate, but apparently not enough for Plutarch who was calling Finnick over. Or maybe he's thought of something when Katniss mentions Snow's own admission of the Capitol's fragility.

“The Capitol is fragile, Snow is fragile, if we can manage to make a major blow to that, it could take their focus off of the prisoners. Force them to focus on damage control instead." Plutarch explains.

“And you want me to say something that could do that?” Finnick looks down at his rope, you'd never been able to master the butterfly knot, and he can imagine himself going over it again to try and teach you.

“If you have anything worth sharing." Of course everyone knows he does, among the elite, the powerful, the other victors it's just an open secret. “It could help us save her."

"But you don't have to open that up, there's no guarantee it'll do anything.” Haymitch argues, he's been forced into sobriety and has maintained his aggression.

“I have something, more than one." Finnick finally says once he's completed his knot and Plutarch can't hide how pleased he is with this outcome. Finnick swears he can hear the blood draining from his face and the nausea rising in his stomach as each second passes, but he persists to stand in front of the cameras.

"You don't have to do this.” Haymitch reiterates.

"Yes I do, if it'll help her.” There's no other option, if the only thing that stopped you from being safely brought to District 13 was the lack of a good distraction, he'd find a way to get a longer rope. He undid the knot before balling it tightly in his hand, “I'm ready." Finnick says to the camera crew and he thinks of you. He turns off any physical sign of emotions he may have because he knows if he doesn't it would lead to another damaging spiral.

The cameras click on and he's given the all clear to begin, “President Snow used to… sell me… my body, that is. I wasn't the only one.” Far from it, and Finnick wanted revenge for all of them, for him, for you, for Cashmere, for everyone Snow had forced into his scheme. "If a Victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” What had happened to Johanna, what he'd been terrified would happen to you when you'd first been together. “I wasn't the only one." He repeats and this time it really is for you, for how much he had to watch it break you. The nightmares, how long it took for you to accept any form of physical contact, how even years after it still affected your own intimacy with each other. They stole it all, your girlhood, most of your spark, whatever they could they ravaged from you like vultures on a corpse. Wasn't the prize of winning supposed to be life? “But I was the most popular. And perhaps the most defenseless because the people I loved were so defenseless." Finnick would never have mentioned this to you, but he'd begged Snow to give him more rather than give you any. The President had said you were too popular for none, but had given you less than what you could've had in exchange for even more of Finnick's time, his so-called uses. “To make themselves feel better my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry, but I found a much more valuable form of payment. Secrets.”

That's why he was such a threat to Snow, he knew too much, he needed to be silenced, but he hadn't and now he could tell all of Panem each one. “And this is where you're going to want to stay tuned, President Snow because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some of the others.” And prominent name after name spewed off of his tongue. It felt like he was dropping chains off of his body to reveal them to the nation. Each one more heinous than the next, “And now, on to our good President Coriolanus Snow. Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. Poison." More names, victims of Snow's climb to power, the elite he trampled so he could trample the weak. Suddenly he's on fire, Finnick can't stop thinking about all the pain it caused you, about how it ruined his own childhood and life, how Johanna lost everyone she loved, how Cashmere worked so hard to protect her brother only for them both to be dead and he's so very detailed. Ensuring that it can't be swept under the rug and it's so harrowing that no one cuts the camera even when he's stopped speaking. There's too much shock, too much intensity, "Cut.” Finnick eventually intervenes.

Finally the stupor is over and people rush to air the footage, Plutarch is making endless comments that Finnick can't comprehend when he's so lost in his own head. Auto-pilot took control for most of the day, he tied knots until his fingers bled. You would've scolded him and bandaged them up, insisting it's why you didn't care for them even if you loved pouting for him to help you just so he could be so close by. Then he's got his arms wrapped around his knees, the day has been too slow, what if you were dead and he'd have no idea until they arrived and he would be at peak hope.

“Did you love her right away, Finnick?" Katniss' voice finally pulls him away from the endless myriad of thoughts.

“Not for the years when I knew of her and then I don't know what changed. She was just so herself in every way and I knew I wanted to just speak with her at least, but once I had a taste of it, yes. Like I'd been knocked over by a wave with it. For a while she didn't understand, but I didn't either, I just knew that there was no else for me." He feels like he's tearing up again when Haymitch rushes into the room.

“They're back. We’re wanted in the hospital. That's all I know." But Finnick feels like he can't move, he realizes he's scared of what you'll be like now. The Capitol had taken the you with her free-spirit and love of being in the moment and made her hate that she was able to breathe oxygen, which he'd so diligently worked to prove you were worthy of. Now they'd had you again, a version that was already hurt, untrusting, and self-destructive, and he couldn't imagine what they could have done to you now. Katniss is softly grabbing his hand to guide him upwards and he feels robotic. She guides him through the winding, gray hallways to the hospital wing. It's not until he can hear your screams that his brain clicks back into action. He has a responsibility to you, one of care, of love, of support in your weakest moments.

He's screaming your name as he runs from Katniss, searching for you desperately. Then he spots you on a hospital bed, pushing off the doctors trying to take care of you. Finnick needs to just be there with his soft words, let you know they're trying to help, so you'll stop. But that's not what happens when you hear his voice or see him. “Angel!" Your panicked screams become more shrill when you see him and in his confusion he steps closer, “It's just me." His voice is more broken then he wanted it to sound, more dejected.

“Get him away from me!" You're frenzied, scrambling to get out of the hospital bed or as far away in it as you can. The doctors are trying to reassure you as you scratch, and kick, and hit, and scream, begging for them to keep you safe from him. He feels the doctors trying to lead him away, hears Johanna laughing harshly in the background noise, but he's frozen. Your head is banging on the metal back of the bed which rattles. “Please, please.” You're sobbing and they're staying to sedate you, "He wants me dead, you don't get it, he's gonna kill me.”

And Finnick is once again determined to get hands on a much longer rope.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so, so much for reading I am so sorry this took me so long! I hope you enjoyed it and as always feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated. my ask box is always open and currently so are requests which I'm working through! love you all and thank you again 💋

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months

Text

I'm suddenly imagining Steve’s parents as James Marsters and Charisma Carpenter.

"Have you ever played the Floor is Lava game?" Eddie asked Steve.

They were lounging at Steve's house, watching TV when Eddie suggested the game. They had flipped through the channels, but they found nothing they wanted to watch at the moment.

"No," Steve scoffed. "What's that?"

"Oh, right. You're an only child with boring parents. My mom used to play it with me when I was little. The concept of the game is that you have to avoid touching the floor because it's made of Lava," Eddie grinned. "You wanna play?"

"Sure."

An hour later, pillows were rearranged on the floor as well as the furniture. They had been hopping around on them for a while now, Eddie telling an outlandish tale of Lava Pirates. Steve had made it safely to the couch, but Eddie was still on the coffee table. The pillows in between them had been knocked aside, and now Eddie had to make it from the coffee table to the couch. There was a huge gap.

"I don't think I'm going to make it. Tell everyone that I love them," Eddie said dramatically. "Go on without me!"

"Oh, for fu - just jump, Eddie!" Steve exclaimed.

Eddie jumped, his feet barely making it to the edge of the couch, and he almost stumbled into the Lava if it hadn't been for Steve grabbing the front of his shirt. Steve pulled him onto the couch and into his arms, wrapping one arm around his waist to stable him.

"My hero!" Eddie said, batting his eyelashes.

Eddie pressed his hands to Steve’s chest, breathing heavily as he stared into his eyes. They were both breathing heavily. Steve pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together. He took the opportunity to kiss Eddie, pressing his lips gently against his. He smiled when he felt Eddie kiss him back. It was brief, though, because Eddie was suddenly pulling back.

"I'm sorry," Eddie said quickly. "I'm not like that. I mean, it's okay if you are, but I'm not - I'm not like that."

"Okay," Steve said, his voice filled with emotion, and he tried not to look at Eddie, his face red from embarrassment.

Eddie stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do as he watched his friend's eyes fill up with tears. He jumped down from the couch and started putting on his shoes.

"I'm going to go now," Eddie said, but Steve didn't say anything. "Uh, see you later."

Eddie started walking towards the door, and as he left, the last thing he heard was the sound of a sob coming from Steve. He hated that sound. Eddie's chest fluttered with this heavy weight, and he found it hard to breathe. He wasn't like that, was he? Shit, he needed to call Ronnie.

A couple of days later. . .

Steve thought he had been hiding his emotions all day at work, but apparently, he was wrong.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Robin asked as soon as they sat down for their break.

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked with a sigh.

"I mean. You've been in a mood all day. You were even rude to the customers," Robin said. "So, rude that they gave you looks, they made complaints to me. You even snapped at me earlier."

"I did?" Steve asked in surprise.

"What's going on?" Robin asked softly.

"I, uh, kissed Eddie," Steve revealed, fiddling with his lunch.

"Okay, so it didn't go well. What happened?" She asked.

He told her all about the game they played and how Steve had saved him. He trailed off near the end.

"We were wrong about him, Robin," he said.

"What?"

"He's not like us," Steve said, shrugging. "He told me. I just need some time to move on, get over him, and then we can go back to being friends. I just want him to be a part of my life, and I'll take whatever he can give me."

"No! No! He is like us! There's no way my radar is off about this," Robin frowned.

"It's okay, Robin. I'll be okay," Steve said.

"Are you sure he didn't kiss you back?" Robin asked.

"I didn't say that he didn't," he said.

"So, he did kiss you?" She asked.

"Yeah, but I'm sure it was like a reflex," Steve said.

"Okay. What did he say exactly after that?" Robin asked.

"He said that he wasn't like that, but it was okay if I was, but he just wasn't like that," Steve replied.

"Wait, so he said it twice?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, why?"

Robin frowned thoughtfully as she tapped her chin. She placed her hands on the table in front of him.

"Okay, I don't want to give you false hope, but maybe it was us who's the problem. We kind of assumed that Eddie's the kind of guy who always knew about himself like we did," Robin said. "But maybe that's not the case."

"Are you saying that I awakened something in him?" Steve said.

"It's a possibility," Robin said softly. "Maybe he just needs time."

Steve smiled, feeling a little more hopeful than he had in days. Yeah, he could give Eddie all of the time in the world.

A few days later. . .

Steve was sitting on the couch, pouting as he stared at the blank TV screen. Every so often, he would glance at the direction of the kitchen, where the phone was, and hoped it would ring. Maggie Harrington plopped onto the coffee table in front of her son and placed his feet in her lap.

"Whatcha doing, Bebie?" Maggie asked.

"Wishing that the phone would ring," Steve said.

"Well, you know what they say about a watched pot," Maggie chuckled, but Steve didn't laugh. "Honey, you have to give him more time than this. Not everyone is like us."

"I know," Steve frowned. "I just don't want to lose him."

"No matter what happens, he'd be an idiot not to be a part of your life," Maggie said.

Thunder clapped loudly outside, and suddenly, there came the sound of hard rain beating against the roof. Steve jumped, and Maggie squeezed his feet to calm him down. A few moments later, the front door opened and closed.

"Mags, do you know anything about this wet metalhead loitering about outside? I don't think he belongs to anyone. I don't see any tags. Do you think Steve might like him?" John asked.

He and Eddie appeared in the door, a wide grin on his face. Meanwhile, Eddie's eyes were wide as he looked at Steve, his hair dripping wet.

"Dad!" Steve exclaimed, blushing.

Eddie pulled crushed, wet flowers out of his vest and held them out for Steve.

"These are for you," Eddie said, and Steve took them with a smile.

"Aw, he got him flowers," Maggie said, cooing.

"Mom, Dad, can you give us a minute?" Steve asked.

"You're right, Steve, he is cute," Maggie said, flipping up her thumbs at him.

"Mom!" Steve yelled.

"Come on, Mags," John said, pulling her out of the room.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't even think about if your parents even know about you," Eddie blushed.

"Oh, we know, and we were so proud of Bebie when he came out to us!" Maggie yelled from the hallway. "Besides, we're both lavender married. I'm a lesbian and John's gay!"

"Mom!"

"Sorry, son, she got away from me!" John called. "Slippery little witch."

"Bebie?" Eddie asked in amusement.

"When I was little, I had this lisp, and I would pronounce my name like Stebe," Steve rolled his eyes. "Then mom kind of ran with the name."

"And it was the cutest little lisp," Maggie said, popping her head in. "You should have seen him when he was little. He was such a mama's boy. You know, I have a picture of him, trying to walk around in my heels. It's so - "

"Mom! Please!" Steve yelled, torn between laughing and crying.

"Mrs. Harrington - " Eddie started to say.

"Maggie," she corrected with a grin.

"Maggie, you know, if you wanted to talk about how cute Steve is, then we can have lunch, and you can tell me all the embarrassing stories about him then?" Eddie asked with a grin. "Okay?"

"Okay!" Maggie exclaimed and left the room.

"Sorry about them," Steve said, shaking his head.

"So, if they're, uh, lavender married, how did - " Eddie started to say.

"I'm adopted," Steve said.

"Ah," Eddie said, and suddenly, he pulled a rock out of his pocket. "I also found this because it reminded me of your eyes."

"Thanks," Steve said, grinning, clutching it to his chest.

"Look, when I said I wasn't like that, I thought that I wasn't like that, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I really am like that. It wasn't just because so many people assume that about me. I always scoffed at them because I'm a freak, so that must mean I must be like that too, right? You came into my life and woke me up. I've always been like that, I just didn't want to recognize it because I'm already different enough, even though I know that there's nothing wrong with being different," Eddie said. "I want to be with you, but I'm still sort of figuring things out."

"We can take things as slow as you want," Steve said.

"A little kiss wouldn't be too fast, though," Eddie grinned as he took Steve’s hands in his.

Steve leaned forward and kissed him gently, pulling him close. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Eddie's.

"I think we can tell your parents to come back in now," Eddie laugh.

"Mom, Dad!" Steve called out.

Maggie came in with a pile of clothes and a towel.

"I brought you some clothes and something to dry off with," Maggie said.

"Thanks, I had completely forgotten that I was dripping on your carpet," Eddie said cheerfully.

When he came back, dressed in Steve's sweats, he plopped down next to Steve on the couch and snuggled into his arms.

"So, Steve always complained about how you guys are away a lot and how much he misses you," Eddie said. "Like an idiot, I assumed the worst. I think that's because of my own shitty dad, so I apologize because you guys are awesome."

"Well, the last few years have kind of been difficult," John replied. "We've been trying to retire my dad's insurance company for a while now so we can spend more time with Steve, but my partner of 15 years who has occasionally been my partner on and off as well, revealed to me that he's been embezzling from the company over the last few years so we have been trying to clean that mess up. We were supposed to hand over the company over to him, and now that's all fucked up. So, we have also been looking for a suitable and trustworthy replacement to take over the company that my dad built from the ground up, a company my dad built to be inclusive for everyone."

"Shit, that fucking sucks," Eddie said with wide eyes.

"It does fucking suck," John sighed. "But Steve and Mags here have been my rock. Couldn't get through this without them."

There was silence for a while and then Eddie leaned forward with a smirk.

"So, Maggie, where is this picture of Steve in your heels that you spoke of?" Eddie asked, and John laughed while Maggie shrieked.

"I'm going to get the photo album," she said and jumped up.

"You're in for it now, son," John said.

"Mom! Please!"

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maraschinomerry · 1 year

Text

Distracted

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Summary: Locked in a room with the boy who has the relic you've been hunting, you try whatever you can to get it back.

Content: fight scene, flirting and making out, a bit suggestive but nothing explicit

A/N: requested by @superpositvecloudshipper - hope you like it! Also can you tell it's my day off with the way this is my third fic in less than 12 hours lol

Word count: 1.9k

As yet another auction came to an abrupt end, the crowded room filling with screams and alarms, Lockwood began to wonder if he was developing a track record.

He was there for a book, written at the very beginning of the Problem, which George insisted would be invaluable in the case they'd just accepted and which DEPRAC were determined to put into secure storage. Nobody had seen it for years, but a week ago it had been listed as the star item at Fothergills Auction House. It wasn't anything as serious as the Bone Glass, but the team had still had to blag their way into the auction with a pocket of tricks each and an unofficial nod from Barnes to do whatever was necessary to prevent the book from winding up on the black market.

So it was that Lockwood found himself surging through the throng of panicked auction-goers, scrambling to escape Lucy's recently detonated smoke bomb. He could barely see through the mass of bodies, made worse by the cloud of dark grey fumes and the pulsing red light of the alarm system. It was only a matter of time before the sprinklers activated. He had to get the book before then.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted an unusual movement - another figure fighting against the tide of bodies. Probably a relic man with more greed than sense, but at least they'd thought to put their hood up and draw a scarf across their mouth to protect against the smoke. Lockwood pressed forward with increasing urgency.

He reached the podium seconds before the mysterious figure, snatching the book and giving in to the urge to throw his pursuer a triumphant grin. They swore, drowned out by the alarm as it shifted in pitch to indicate the activation of the water sprinklers. Lockwood tucked the book into his coat and bolted for the nearest door, the other person hot on his heels.

Overhead, an automated voice alternated with the alarms.

"Defence alert. Room cleared. Initiating lockdown procedure."

Oh no.

—

You forced your way through the crowd, eyes trained on the book. It would fetch you a pretty penny and give you an advantage over a group of relic men who were giving you grief. As you reached the podium, you stumbled to a halt at the sight of a scrawny dark-haired boy clutching the book. Your book. You scowled, expression deepening as he gave you a bright victory smirk. Well, that was that. No way were you letting him leave here without getting the book. As he sprinted for the door on the left, you followed.

Too late, you realised the door the boy ahead had chosen was not the one for the offices, but for a storage cupboard which would usually have held the items for auction but now was almost bare. Too late, you noticed there were no other doors or windows, just the one that had now sealed behind you.

"I swear," he growled, hand on his rapier, "don’t come any closer. There's nowhere to go and I've fought enough relic men that if you want to get out of here alive you'll keep your distance."

You scoffed, a higher sound than Lockwood was expecting.

"Excuse you, relic man? Presumptuous much?" As you spoke, your scarf shifted to reveal plump red lips, and in one smooth movement you tugged down your hood, scooping the mane of windswept hair it concealed into a messy ponytail.

Lockwood froze for a second before switching on his trademark charisma. No sense in making enemies straight away, besides the more he looked the more he realised there was little room to use his rapier without risking self-injury.

"I meant no offence, I thought Flo Bones was the only relic woman."

You'd heard of Flo, of course, but didn't run in the same circles. She was a one-man, well, one-woman band, except for whoever this guy was it seemed. You tended to keep to yourself, but occasionally took advantage of the more simpering relic men who were so desperate for a woman to look their way that they'd give you anything, making you the leather-clad rogue to Flo's knitted outcast.

"Easy mistake to make, darling, but it won't happen again." You returned his charm with your own, thinly veiling the threat behind your words. "Just give me the book and we can both go on our merry ways."

"I don't think so." He dropped the act in a flash, gripping the book.

Your scowl returned. "Fine. That door's not budging, so I've got time to change your mind."

Without warning, you lunged, catching him off-guard enough that he almost lost his footing. To your dismay, he recovered quickly, pushing you back to give him time to adopt a defensive stance. He was trained, then. Probably from agent work, judging by the rapier. By the book, though. Time to see if he fought dirty.

A scroll of paper was about the only thing left on the shelf beside you, but it would have to do. With a grunt, you tossed it past his shoulder, and as he watched it sail past (no doubt questioning your aim, as you'd planned), you used his distraction to slip closer and force him backwards into a shelf. He cried out as the metal bit into his back and for a moment you hesitated. The boy was only young, he looked about your age, and he wasn't bad looking at that. You could have been in his place in another life, or he in yours. Or both of you on the same team, fighting off some other scoundrel. Unknowingly, you eased off the pressure on his shoulders.

Big mistake.

Lockwood shoved you once more, finally deciding to bring the fight to him and reaching for his rapier. You couldn't allow that, but you were running out of ideas. So you did the only thing you could think of: whipped off your jacket and hurled it directly at his face. The boy was quick, though, you had to give him credit, as he batted it away like a pesky fly. Suddenly he was in your space, hands locking around your now bare wrists and foot snaking out to knock your feet from under you. You fell, unable to stop yourself, but with his grip still on you he lowered you almost gently to the floor, arms pinned above your head and his weight straddling your thighs to keep you from lashing out. He did fight dirty. Interesting.

Your breath was heavy, both from the fight and from finding yourself in such close quarters with the young man. With nowhere to turn, you finally got a proper look at your rival. His dark eyes were trained on you, filled with a mixture of anger, respect and something else. His previously coiffed hair now fell haphazardly across his forehead, and his face was flushed. Still had that insufferable smirk, though.

"I think," you paused to catch your breath, "we got off on the wrong foot. Care to start again?" Your hands were still pinned, hanging loosely against the cold stone floor, but you brought one up in as close to a handshake as circumstances would allow. He didn't take it.

"Who are you?" he asked bluntly.

"Does it matter?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"What you want with the book."

"Let's call it personal insurance."

"I see."

"Do you, darling?" You'd met his type before - rich, cocky, scornful of anyone who'd fallen into the relic hunter lifestyle to keep themselves alive. Then again, he seemed to know that other girl Flo well enough, and he hadn't given any indication he disliked you beyond having the same target, and really it was very hard to form any other opinions of him when his pelvis was practically on top of yours.

He leaned a little closer, pressing your wrists more. "I'm not your darling, darling." The last word came out low and husky, and you resisted the urge to squirm beneath him. It wouldn't do to give him any more of an upper hand just yet, not that there was much more he could get.

"You could be, if you wanted, the position you're in." You'd been watching him through your lashes, but with those words you allowed your gaze to slide down to his lips as your own parted slightly.

Lockwood took the hint.

His kiss was passionate, almost frantic, and you returned it equally. To get low enough to reach your lips, his hips had bucked into yours, and as you gasped at the sensation his tongue darted in. He tasted like bergamot tea. One hand never left where he was keeping you pinned, but the other came round to support the small of your back as you arched into him. Eventually (it took him long enough, distracted as he was when you dragged your teeth across his lower lip), he realised he was supporting all his weight on your wrists, and he propped himself on his other hand and let go. With this newfound freedom, you pushed yourself off the ground, leaning into him until he was sitting back on his feet, your legs still under him but torsos upright and pressed together.

Now on a more even playing field, you were able to have a bit more fun. Not that you were going to complain about the original position, to be fair. It had certainly made things interesting. In the back of your mind you registered that the sirens outside had stopped, but you still had time to kill.

You slid your hands up his chest to the collar of his coat, sliding it down until it gathered around his remarkably firm biceps, then loosened his tie. All the while, your lips never left his, kissing him hungrily. He responded by reaching up and removing the tie from your hair. One hand travelled back down to your waist, the other twisted into your hair with a playful tug. You gasped against his mouth again, tugging his tie which brought him up off his heels. The pressure eased from your legs, and in one swift movement you pulled them through the gap.

As your legs disappeared from under him, Lockwood found himself leaning back with you taking position above. Your hair cascaded around your face, tickling his ears, and he broke the kiss for breath and to stare up at you in wonder. His hand left your hair to support himself, but you adjusted to balance yourself so your hands could slide into his coat and around his waist.

"Well, that's certainly not how I expected this auction to end, but I can't say I'm disappointed," he chuckled.

"Me neither." Behind you the door hissed as the automatic lock disengaged. Abruptly, Lockwood felt your hands retract from within his coat and he dropped painfully onto his elbows. You stood, brushing yourself off and retrieving your jacket, which you slung over your shoulder. At the same time as Lockwood realised his coat felt significantly lighter, he noticed the book tucked under your arm.

"This has been fun, we should do it again some time," you said with a wink as you stepped through the door.

Lockwood scrambled to his feet. By the time he made it to the doorway, the auction room was empty. You'd gone, and so had the book.

He didn't know which he was more disappointed about.

#lockwood & co x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood & co fanfic #fem reader #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood

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kit-williams · 4 months

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Just Let us Adore You

tw: Polycule/Polyandry/Reverse Harem (Idk if these are the right terms the google machine says so), Male Yandere(s), Obsession, Possessive Males, Obsessive males

Protective Head: Sor Delyn Flirty Wing: Kazi Delax Dependable Wing: Moremo Klaek

How did they get here? Sor watched over the throng of people as their little Dove was once more trying her peaceful protests. Kazi and Moremo were the closest to her just in case anything went wrong. Sor had hopped the scare would push her into letting them take control and do things their way... but they couldn't say no to her. How passionately she believed! Sure her partner in crime left after Moremo started taking more responsibilities and they could tell his heart wasn't fully in it as she was.

How did they get here. The Raven Guard was simply sending a small amount of brothers to check on this planet... they weren't keeping up their tithes and they had always been good to the sons of Corax. Sor, Kazi, and Moremo were the last 3 left from the ambush, and from their Dove not long after such they announced their break away from the Imperium. But their darling... she was on their side. She figured and hoped, God Emperor bless her, hoped that she could do things in a way that didn't lead to violence. The brothers saw the writing on the wall and so they attached themselves to her group and began to cultivate the eventual power claws that would have to come out.

Originally... they were just going to get rid of her but they needed a human element... they needed her. Sor felt guilty at what was most likely going to happen but he couldn't say no to they way her eyes glistened and shone, desperate to believe that the humble movement she started wasn't heading towards the inevitable violent conclusion. Her old second in command put it very succinctly, "You'll either succeed or become the first martyr." But, he and his brothers would be there to wipe and kiss away her tears... most likely Kazi would be the first to get his hands on her to distract her.

Depending on how things went it was a toss up between himself and Moremo who got to be with their little visionary next. Sor still feels so dirty yet still on a delicious high after he scared her... he knew they were going to try and kill her... he found their roost and just made sure to miss by a hairsbreadth. The way she clung to him once they got back to the nest, he was the defacto "muscle" and "protector". Kazi was the most "human" of the group being far more cheerful than usually morose ravens... and so was Moremo but he had a way about him... a charisma that Kazi lacked... he was diplomatic. Sor just made sure all the bad things went away... Kazi just made sure she always was happy... and Moremo just made sure that everything was going smoothly.

The screams started as the body double dropped. It was a precaution that Sor had begged their Dove to consider and she was more than willing to die to help bring the planet back into the Imperial fold. They were unwilling to let her become a martyr for this. Perhaps Moremo was right, they were latching on to the mortal too hard and too quickly, hypocrite was latching too. They were still mourning their last shared beloved but she reminds them so much of her.

"Move out make sure they don't slaughter the Civvis." Sor groused as he pulled out his rifle and began to turn traitors into mist.

--------

Kazi adored their little revolutionary! But she just was far too stubborn. She kept dodging his affections for her... playing them off as just being grateful flirtations for keeping them hidden from the traitorous government. Which was partially true, but she just was such a darling!

It was easy for him to pull her away from her old second in command... or rather situationship. Oh the poor man had no chance when three angels came to her asking for a safe haven. Kazi would swear on the Codex Astartes that he saw her blush and the wonder in her eyes as they humbly asked for a haven. It only took a little bit of training to get her to stop flinching when he would touch her, her hair, the curve of her hip, her waist... it took more after that to get her to just accept the fact that they could and would pick her up and move her.

Oh it was cute the fish out of water look on her face, the indignit frown, or the cute giggles as she pretended to be angry at being put under his arm as he carried her off or over his shoulder. Kazi found it very hard to not give her a spank when he threw her over his shoulder. He was the one to put forward that she should start sleeping with one or two of them. Playing off the wording as being just an astartes and above mortal phrasing. He's certain she could handle two of them at once. The nest he played off the accidental gropes as just trying to get her... him being hard? Adrenaline dear Dove and certainly not from her sweet scent.

Oh even Sor came round at night during her ovulation as that was one of the few nights they would lock the door and all three would rest in the room with her, though they would hardly get rest. But now was hardly the time to think about that. Kazi popped up from the cover and fired several rounds of bolt shot into the armored vehicle.

"So who is going to comfort our Dove when we get back." Kazi said looking around for a moment as the cabin of said vehicle was quite red.

"Now is hardly the time to discuss." Moremo groused.

"I mean she's going to be so upset..." He cooed.

"And shaken up. So it's going to be Sor. You know the deal." Moremo replied causing Kazi to frown.

"Well certainly then I get to be next."

"Wrong again Sargent." Moremo huffed, "I'll probably be next as we will have to discuss business before pleasure."

Kazi just frowned harder and perhaps chucked a brick, astartes strength hard, at a statue and watched a decent chunk of it break. Well he would get his chance to comfort and soothe their little dove once they were given control of the movement. Then all their Dove had to do was just make a few speeches occasionally and be there for them to find comfort in.

Kazi turned on his heels and rushed down the road.

-----------

Moremo knew that he had all but in name hijacked her movement the moment he became the second in command. Sor had hijacked it by allowing the more violent elements in while Kazi distracted her from noticing how militant her peaceful movement was becoming. He sighed as he was the last to fall for their sweet Dove.

He tried his hardest to not fall for her. They were still mourning their last Dove. Kazi had taken her death the hardest so him trying to latch onto another Dove so quickly wasn't too shocking. But when Sor latched on... seeing his quiet and tender Brother being held by their Dove... oh he knew she was for them. Her, as Kazi called it, Situationship Second in Command was trying to pull her away from them. To have her abandon their movement as soon as the brothers wanted to get involved.

Oh Kazi and he found it laughably easy to cock block the man. To pull her away... to see the jealousy seethe beneath the skin as they continued their affectionate gestures. Moremo had moved in after the fight that their Dove and that man had... she didn't deserve to be blown up at... he just was wildly jealous as they were space marines and as they had told her... were above mortal wants and affections.

He relished holding the tender Dove in his lap as he nuzzled her cheek just distracting her with all the bird noises he could make... the coos and whistles as he wooed her with several mating calls. Their Dove knew eventually that they would probably take over and he felt so very honored when she started to give control over to them. He took up the mantle of second in command.

He was the one to help convince her to sleep with them. He was able to spin it with Sor's help as she would be safer with two of them around her. It wasn't exactly a lie... but perhaps their intentions were less than pure. Where Kazi steals touches... Sor gets hugged by her whenever he isn't expecting it... Moremo steals her time the most.

"I've cleared out my section." He speaks, "We should head back we will need to assure everyone that our Dove isn't dead."

------

Sor was allowed his solo time in the nest with their Dove. Kazi watched like a bird with its feathers wet as she was sobbing into Sor's neck. He was crooning into her hair as his large hands rubbed her back. Moremo was currently mobilizing several branches of their operation. She pulled her head back and looked into Sor's black eyes with her wet looking ones, "I didn't want anyone to die!"

Kazi opened his mouth but Sor shot him a glare. When he wanted time with the Dove... Sor did not share. He was private with his affection... and wanted it to remain intimate, "I know sweetheart... but she knew the risk. She was willing to do this for you."

"What do I tell her family?" She sobs feeling guilty over what has happened.

"She will be remembered as a martyr for the cause. She will be remembered as giving up her life to help bring your planet back into the embrace of the Imperium." Sor says softly into her hair. "We need you to get a hold of yourself Dove. We need you to make a recorded speech."

"Why me? I'm hardly a charismatic leader. I'm just a crybaby who got in too deep." She says sniffling.

"Because we trust you. You hold the trust of three Astartes. Remember that is quite powerful." Had they not cared so deeply for their Dove... months ago someone else would have taken over. But by the Emperor there was so much blood on their hands from seditious elements inside of her own "faction". No they didn't want their Dove to be ousted she was going to be their voice.

Moremo walked over and looked inside, "Are you ready little Dove?"

She pulled away from Sor and followed the Raven.

--------

She could feel herself getting a headache from all the crying... the speeches... the whirlwind of the day. The bed was so soft as she put an arm over her eyes just thinking about the events of today. She officially announced how her movement was leaving behind its peaceful roots only to take them back up once they were back in the fold. How she was handing over leadership to the Ravens... she wasn't exactly stepping down but she wasn't keen on running a violent thing.

She didn't understand why they wanted her around...

"Look at her..." She heard Kazi whisper from her left, "so pretty." Something she was use to hearing him say but the way he said it this time left something in her stomach.

"She must be tired from today." Moremo said from the right of her.

The soft closure of the door... and the click of the lock made her hold her breath for a moment. She was scared to move the arm over her eyes as the air practically tasted different. Charged with electricity that she was unfamilair with... and charged with a high voltage. The bed sank as she felt her knees pulled apart and moved her arm to see Sor kneeling between them. His eyes suddenly seemed to be fully black... she looked between the three and could see their eyes being fully black.

Her heart was racing as the three of them leaned in

Sor pulled her hips to his as he gyrated them just looking at her with unabashed adoration. "You did so good today." He cooed as she pulled back till her back was against the headboard.

"Such a good dove!" Kazi said as he crawled onto the bed causing her to flinch and jump.

"You did your part well little Dove. Thank you for handing it over to us." Moremo said crawling on the bed as well as she was now encircled.

She swallowed the fear as best as she could, "I... I did my best." She could see such unhinged adoration in Kazi's eyes but Moremo's black eyes were also drowning her in adoration. She yelped as Sor pulled on her ankle and she was on her back as the three of them crawled closer to her. Her breathing was quickening as she looked between the three Space Marines. "So... so what happens to me now?"

"We protect you... you're still the face of the movement." Sor said before his mouth latched onto her neck. Intimately kissing the crux of her neck and shoulder blade before sucking a large hickey into her skin. Her breath shuttered as she couldn't help it... she liked Sor... she liked the three of them. They watched their Dove's eyes unfocused and how she sucks on her bottom lip.

"Yes Dove... you need to be kept safe and make our speeches." Kazi turned her head toward his as his thumb pressed on her chin and opened her mouth as he cooed and leaned in for a kiss.

"So please little Dove just keep our nest warm." Moremo panted softly as he latched onto the other side of her neck and left his own hickey. Her eyes closed as her tongue gently played with Kazi's before he and Sor switched spots.

Kazi sucked on the hollow of her throat feeling the way she swallowed as Sor kissed her. His tongue less gentle than Kazi's taking a more dominant approach. When Kazi pulled his mouth away with a pop he grinned down as the three looked at the large hickies on her skin as she laid there with swollen lips. Her arm covering her eyes again as her cheeks were darkened from a blush on her face.

"Should we show her how much she means to us?" Kazi cooed and she once more shyly uncovered her eyes to look up at them as they looked down at her with nothing but adoration in their eyes.

How could she say no to such adoration?

#tw: poly #tw: yandere #tw: obsession #tw: possession #x reader #Raven Guard #Raven Guard x reader #warhammer 40k #Warhammer 40k x reader #Yandere #Yandere Space Marine #Space Marine #Yandere Raven Guard

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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year

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Frat-bro Friday!

Steve and reader are best friends, she has feelings for Steve but he's unaware and falls for the "new girl" Natasha. He stills values reader in his life but she decides not to come b/w Steve and Nat and leave them. Steve’s and Nat was suppose to be just summer romance, but when reader left, Steve wasn't really himself, Nat feels it, realises he's in love with reader but found out she was pregnant with Steve's baby. They maintain a nice relationship, Steve confides in Nat that he's in love with reader. Baby born, they go their separate ways, still co parenting. 8 years later, when Steve’s daughter was in summer camp he found reader again. From there starts his winning her back.

I'm sorry this is so long. And I couldn't think of more...

There were moments that were forever engrained in your mind that you would look back on through thin perceptions, wishing and hoping with everything you had that you could go back and change how things had played out. The memories that haunted you were phantoms that crept in the corners of your mind, the moments that mocked you were all rooted in one specific time period during university.

He was your best friend, he was an athlete with charm and charisma to sweep anyone off their feet with a single bat of his eyes. Steve Rogers was an all-American kind of boy who was outgoing enough to land him in a goof fraternity yet not so cocky and arrogant to be off putting.

He had the world at his fingertips, he had everything and anything he could have wanted. Your friendship was good, it was strong and unwavering, it was the kind of friendship that could have naturally bled into a relationship, though the odds always seemed to be stacked against you.

First, it was a drunken confession that he had met someone who was beautiful and breathtaking, a student of Russia studies that was the daughter of some diplomat. That confession happened when Steve was in your bed after a night of partying, hanging around you to stave off the possibility of falling into a ditch. the confession had cut through you, it had ripped parts of your heart into thin confetti that turned to ash, it was too late for you and you were left with the decision to either confess and ruin his budding relationship or swallow your feelings.

After the confession, had come the buildup of their relationship, and all the positivity around the ipso-facto it couple. Steve and Natasha were perfect for each other, they had been connected by apparent deeply seeded bonds that caused further damage to your emotionally fragile heart.

“I think i love her.” Steve hd confessed before he and Natasha had went on a trip together, one of the student organized trips to the mountains before the end of the second term. “I wish you were coming with us, we’d have so much fun together.”

Steve didn’t know that you were leaving, he hadn’t anticipated your departure from the school and your transfer to the west coast. You were leaving, you had gotten an internship at a charitable organization you’d been vying for. You couldn’t tell Steve, you couldn’t have dared tell him before his trip.

Maybe it was the coward’s way out, maybe you were taking it easy but you were done being hurt.

He tried calling you when he got back and you were gone, he tried reaching out to you on social media, begging to talk or find you because he needed you, anything at all. One of your friends had told you that he went to your dorm looking for you, that something had happened on the trip that stunned both Natasha and Steve.

Part of you wanted to give in, part of you wanted to call him back and reach out to hear it. But there was a bigger part of you that knew you needed to protect yourself, the part of you that was self preserving.

You didn’t reach out, you didn’t want to hear about his perfect romance with Natasha. You couldn’t have even if you wanted to, even if you had shut down every part of your brain that screamed at you to let yourself heal, you couldn’t have willed yourself to give in.

You lost Steve, he would always be your one regret. And if you could have turned back time, you would have been bolder and more open with your feelings.

** **

The first sound of screaming and squealing had radiated throughout the camp, the first day was upon the staff and counsellors. You were still in the office looking over the plans for the rest of the first day after campers had checked in, only looking up when the bus dropping off nearly all the campers had begun to pull away.

It wouldn’t have been any significant event to steal and hold your attention however beyond the view of the bus was a man helping with his daughters bags. It was the sight of the man that you would have recognized anywhere, even after all the years had passed.

It was as if you were in a daze, you were already headed down the steps with the list of events in your hands. You’d pushed open the door and skipped down the steps in a loud barraging trounce that had stolen both Steve and his daughters attention.

“Hey campers! Who’s ready to check in?” One of the counsellors bounded toward Steve and his daughter, addressing them as well as the campers behind the two.

“Y/N,” he spoke your name like it was a secret that weighed on his tongue, “is that you?”

You gripped the clipboard tightly in your hand and swallowed your words as they built on your tongue. There was so much you would have wished to say, so much you could have said and yet in a moment it had all vanished.

“Natasha, is she here too?” You were aware of his daughter looking between the two of you with a kind of coy smile on her face.

“Natasha…no. She, or rather we-“

“Hi sweetheart,” the counsellor crouched before her with a special lanyard ready for her with her name on it, “if you come with me, we’ll get you set up in your bunk while your daddy signs a form.”

“I’ll see you in a week.” Steve had bent and hugged her tightly, kissing into her hair before he glanced your way. “You’ll be good?”

“I promise, daddy.” She grinned and pulled away, following the counsellor down a path to a set of cabins near the back of the clearing.

When it was Steve and you alone, Steve had cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak before snapping it shut again. He had furrowed his brows and pursed his lips, neither one of you being able to say much.

“Forms,” another counsellor passed you, mumbling under his breath, “get him to sign the forms.”

You lift the clipboard to your vision, spying what needed to be signed and then lowered it once more. You set your sights back on Steve, another half beat of silence before you nodded your head.

“If you wanna follow me into the office…” you turned and walked back up the steps, knowing that he was following you.

You opened the door and let him pass, following him while a flurry of unkempt emotions rose from deep within you. All kinds of unrestricted thoughts that you’d long since buried had risen to the surface until you were left staring at Steve while signed the forms you’d held out for him.

“Natasha and I aren’t together.” Steve dropped the pen with a plop before he ran his hand over his chin. “We didn’t…we co-parent but we’re not-“

“Y/N,” the door opened, one of your team leads poking her head in, “we’re ready for our fearless director.”

“Director?” Steve spoke with admiration. “Really?”

“Really.” You smiled small and drew your eyebrows together.

“I have to go but its been nice-“ “I was wondering if-“

You spoke at the same time, speaking over one another.

“It was nice seeing you again Steve. I have to go.” You stepped around him and headed for the door, one hand on the frame and the other on the handle.

You wait a moment before you stepped outside, leaving Steve alone in the office while a copy of the form was being made for him.

#frat!Steve Rogers #ex-frat!Steve Rogers #co-parent!Steve Rogers #Steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers x reader angst

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odditycircus-2002 · 11 months

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Shang Tsung and Medusa Reader Hcs Part 1

I felt inspired to make this with the new release of Mortal Kombat 1 teaser. I blame @earthrealmclown and @kronikascrown for making me so fond of this snake-like Sorcerer in the first place. Along with Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa... Enjoy!😁

Let's rewind back to eons ago in China. You were born as an Apothecary's daughter, living a comfortable childhood with a loving family. However, there was always something... off about you. Something morbid.

With the passing of your father, you took up the family business, which is when your off nature became more prevalent. When you're not attending to customers or replenishing your apothecary cabinet, you're running your own experiments with a new medicine or new deadly poisons. Products you would use from animals to eventual people who were left unaware they were drugged. You'd observe and take notes on the side effects of your medicine as either helping to alleviate ailments or inducing madness before liquefying the subject's brain. At first, you reasoned to yourself that what you're doing is in the name of science, killing a few subjects to save thousands more people with your discoveries. Yet who were you kidding? It was both invigorating and immensely entertaining, a break in the mundanity of your home.

You met Shang Tsung when he fought for Earthrealm. An Apothecary's protege and daughter that many traveled far and wide to visit for her miraculous medicine. Among her town's residents, though, she was known as their most beautiful benevolent woman with eyes that shine like stars.

You greeted the then-young combatant with a well-practiced smile and soft voice, welcoming him to your quaint town and asking how she could help one of the realm's champions. Shang Tsung has come simply for some basic painkillers and disinfectants for wounds.

You and Shang engaged in some light conversation, such as the latter's thoughts on the upcoming Tournament and his odds, along with some light flirting. Eventually, it did go deeper as you engaged in deep discussion about your work, medicine, morality, and decay. Shang found himself giving a small grin as he observed how your eyes gave off a mad glint when discussing how you would collect venom from snakes by capturing them before cutting off the head to collect the fangs, preserving the rest of the body for further use.

While you tried your best to put on the facade of an unassuming and benevolent medicine woman, Shang Tsung suspected you were anything but. Intrigued by the barest taste he got of your twisted true nature, he decided to stay in town for a while to train, he claimed. Although everyone and their mother knew the true reason, whispering amongst themselves and placing bets on how fast you would turn down this latest suitor.

Of course, it wasn't as simple as they believed, given how both you and Shang Tsung had reasons to use one another under the facade of a courtship. You to test both your new medicines and poisons on an Earthrealm champion out of sheer curiosity; him, so he may take what you know to add to his arsenal for the Tournament. However, Shang Tsung couldn't deny the attraction he felt toward the dichotomy of your true wicked self; and you his charisma and wit.

Eventually, that lie became truth but with an added edge. While your courtship did include deep conversations, some flirting mixed in with subtle innuendos, gifts of flowers and fine jewelry, and long walks through the forest where you'd collect any herbs you need.

It also included Shang Tsung helping you dispose of a body to wild boars when he caught you experimenting with a new medicine on an old man close to death, only for it to induce madness before liquefying the subject's brain. Which you took great note of as the man was screaming about Geuis coming to eat his organs, unbothered by it all.

As well as you trying to poison the other to tie up loose ends, only to smugly show the other how that was a futile attempt. You already have a strong immunity from years of ingesting poison, and Shang Tsung comes prepared with an antidote.

There was also another incident where you tried to kill one another in their sleep, only to catch the other trying to do what you planned. This then involved a brief confrontation that somehow escalated into something... spicer 😏😏😏

Not long after, you married Shang Tsung, his equal in wit and deception. A day that would forever live on in both your memories, one filled with joy and pride to have made the other their own as you both exchanged rings made of jade and nephrite in the shape of two dragons intertwined.

Then, not long after you two married, you and Shang Tsung were cursed by the Elder Gods for cheating during the Tournament. Shang Tsung has used one of your most potent poisons to drug one of Outworld's champions. For that, Shang Tsung was cursed to age and wither at an alarming rate.

And for you being his accomplice, The Elder Gods cursed you to become a more snake-like being, befitting that for someone who allies herself with a snake. Your luscious H/C locks were transformed into writhing F/C snakes; your eyes became snake-like and sickly yellow; boar-like tusk jutted from your upper canines, dripping with venom; your nails became longer and sharper; your skin became rougher and scalier in appearance; finally, a large pair of leathery wings.

As if that wasn't bad enough, you were also cursed to turn any none godly or higher beings into stone if they looked you in the eyes. Still, neither of you would bow before the gods that cursed you so and beg for them to reverse your curses.

Admittedly, both of you were at your lowest at this point and literally unable to look one another in the eye. You were filled with both a crushing amount of insecurity and dread of your husband leaving you for getting caught, leaving you waiting with bated breath for the other shoe to drop. Yet, unbeknownst to you, Shang Tsung had some similar insecurities about you leaving him because you blamed him for your fate and because he was a now weak, frail old man.

Oddly, it was when you both tried to leave the other before the other one could leave first, but stopping to say goodbye, that you learned it wasn't the end of your marriage. Honestly, it came as a bit of a surprise for you that your arrogant Shang Tsung thought you would leave him for his failure and curse and vice versa.

As if you would leave the only man that ever kept your attention so long at the first sign of trouble, which you pretty much told him, which genuinely took him aback. Yet why would he want to be rid of someone like you? After you both cleared the air with one another, something in your marriage shifted with Shang Tsung for the better.

Is it any wonder that both you and Shang Tsung's anger and hatred were so greatly extreme that when Shao Khan reached out to you both, you both jumped at the opportunity? That and mixed in with desperation and spite, you both weren't looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Alongside your husband, you, too, were taught soul magic and sorcery by Shao Khan. However, you didn't rely as heavily on it as Shang Tsung, mostly utilizing it to make soul-binding contracts. Under Khan's teachings, you learned how to use glamour to hide your monstrous visage, use small pocket dimensions to store your drugs and poisons, how use your new form and abilities efficiently, and, eventually, even how to reverse your petrifying gaze.

So the next time Shang Tsung appeared for the Tournament, both of you were aligned with Outworld, much to Raiden's chagrin. You had to wear a Chinese opera mask, which you made in likeness to your original face, in order not to turn the entire Tournament and its champions into statues. That's not to say you didn't make some fine statues on the side, with no one the wiser.

Shang Tsung appreciates the support you gave behind the scenes, such as selling some "enhancing" drugs to the Earthrealm champions before the Tournament actually began in exchange for a variety of payments, including, unknowingly to most, their souls. Oh, how your heart skipped a beat to watch your beloved husband wipe the competition in a bloody brawl. 💕💕💕

Stay Tuned for more! My fellow humans.😉

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #my writing #Shang Tsung #mk x reader #mortal kombat x reader #MK headcannons #shang tsung x reader #Medusa #Gorgon #reader insert

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acroagoraphobe · 10 days

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What Makes a Man a Monster?

Chapter 3: A Unknown Man's Journey to The Town With Every Name.

HIIII YEAB ANOTHER CHAPTER WOO (Sixer playlist on Spotify will probably be unprivated soon guys.)

(Sorry if the sentences don't flow too well btw im just dumping my thoughts abt his story:3 )

Sixer had already well overstayed his welcome in the small town of Goodsprings. Tragedy was bound to follow him in some way, as it tended to do. The people were nice, but they won't be here forever. Time always went so fast and before Sixer would know, a lifetime flashed before his eyes and everything he got used to was gone and rotted. He was the one thing that stayed in falling nations trying to grasp at what he caused to fall.

But it was the present, and although it would only last for what felt like minutes, he had to live in the moment. He walked out the door of the Saloon, clothes still soaked in blood due to his refusal to let the locals be any the more generous to him. They already disregarded his rather ominous entrance. Someone was bound to believe he was an omen of some sort.

Sixer's worn boots caused the floors underneath him to creak as he left, leaving dusty footprints behind him and no doubt, in his future path he was bound to lead. Walking the road to god knows where, he wandered the dusty roads. The heat of the sun hadn't bothered him in Lord knows how long, he wondered if he even felt anything at all anymore. It sounds edgy, but this is an ancient being were talking about here. Those things are THE edgelords.

Sixer could give less fucks about the Platinum chip and the man who shot him, but it was the only purpose he could come up with for himself now. Track down Benny, But do what? Well, He'll fucking figure it out eventually. Trudging on, halfway to the town of Primm, A voice called to Sixer through the quiet of the desert, saying his name so clearly. But he didn't really have a true name. Hallucinating again possibly? The voice whispered words in his ear that veered him off the road and to a secluded clearing in the rocky areas near the roads, and led him to a skeletal corpse, rotted and mottled. But... untouched by animals. When he approached the corpse, The voice stopped. It spoke no more into the ears of the unknown.

The corpse held a Pip-Boy, It looked like a vault dweller. But the yellow and blue garments were long since ripped apart. This corpse must have been here for Lord knows how long. The only peice of the vault suit that the corpse was wearing that was left somewhat intact was the back, the number read 0. Just 0 not 10, not 100, just 0. And Sixer's mind fogged when he tried to consult the forces unknown to him that gave him his knowledge. Perhaps he was not meant to know what was behind this. Or it was something he had to figure out ..

Either way, Something in the back of his head? told him to take the Pip-Boy, an older model that was held together by electrical tape and a dream. But it worked. Sixer wiped it off and put it onto his arm, turning it on and seeing the faded green of the screen fizzle to life. He felt a strange connection to this peice of technology, it knew things it should not know, like Sixer himself.

Sixer turned a dial and the screen mocked him with his lack of equipment. And he saw the perks screen, which read of his perks. "Wild Wasteland" and "Immortal." Which neither made sense on why the hell this thing would know these. But in truth all Sixer could do was accept it. His S.P.E.C.I.A.L stats consisted of a maximum endurance and a suprisingly high charisma. With a lacking perception and... 1 luck. Made more sense than anything else really. His strength was not something that could be considered weak, but it wasn't Herculean either. His intelligence was... Average, which was... suprising considering Sixer's knowledge from unknown sources. But that knowledge seemed to come and go, so It made plenty of sense.

Sixer went back onto the road as he fiddled with the dials on his new Pip-Boy. Radio was broken, Map just wasn't there, and Quests, which there was only one and it read "Accidentally on Purpose: Figure out what the hell to do with your life." Sixer hit the Pip-Boy and It updated to something about finding Benny. Take that bitch. He decided to stop getting distracted by his Pip-Boy and continued on walking to Primm.

At the front entrance to Primm a soldier yelled at him about Primm being off limits. And of course Sixer ignored him and walked past. The soldier too tired and underpaid to really give a fuck, let him past. Sixer realized there wasn't much important here in Primm from his otherworldly sources, so he went back to walking... Again.

#what makes a man a monster #fallout nv #fallout new vegas #fallout #fallout fanfic #fallout NV fanfic #Chapter 3 #Sixer #courier 6 oc #fnv courier #//#Guys I think I cooked here with the chapted title #👍👍👍👍👍#ALSO YES I USED WILD WASTELAND HALLUCINATIONS AS A PLOT POINT TO GET HIS PIP BOY.#Basically only roughly based off of canon FNV rn

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amethystoceandespiser · 10 months

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disapointment with izuku and katsuki's arc

taking in count how, even though we are told we are seeing or reading izuku's story, Bakugou ends up hijacking the narrative to make himself look good in comparison to Izuku. which is infuriating since both of them have concepts on their backstory that could make the story better. their dynamic since coming to U.A. didn't change from when they were in middle school and the narrative still tries to gaslight us that their interactions are signs of "friendship" when in reality is, has, and will be stocholm syndrome, since bakugou even when we are TOLD he changed, still demeans, insults, and has a lack of respect for Izuku as a human being that i worry for what kind of fuckery horikoshi went through in terms of relationships. the only way that the arc could have a vestige of quality would be if Izuku at the very least expresed that he resents Bakuhoe for his abuse, but hori turned his own MC into an enabler for his behaviour by trying to tell us supposedly why Izuku thinks Bakugou would be a good hero.

i mean, "bakugou's determination, "charisma", and quirk control make him hero material", no Izuku, you're listing the things you envy of him, not his "heroics qualities"

bakugou's apology? it didn't move me even a little bit, the timing for it was when Izuku was at his weakest and couldn't think straight to comprehend what the hell bakugou wanted to say, and it seems to only be there so that Izuku is shocked enough to let the last remains of adrenaline he has, fade away to pass out. the apology in and on itself was straight out excuses, excuses and more excuses that we are TOLD are what Bakugou tought about izuku, even when after hundreds of chapters of the manga we got jack shit of evidence to prove these claims.

the second fight they had? pure fan service for bakugou stans telling us that "he changed". yeah, he did, but not the ACTUAL issue that he has as a character. him calling himself weak after defeating Izuku actually defeats this claim of being weak making it worth less than shit. this could have been more gut wrenching and understandable (as awfully unnecesary as it is) if he lost to Izuku, that wasn't into the fight at all, it could have shown us izuku's strength, it could've been humiliating for katsuki, but at least this claim admitence of vulnerability could have been EARNED.

his kidnapping by the league of villains? it was only used as a plot device to tell us that bakugou wants to be the best like All might, instead of making him reflect that the villains not only choosed him for his power, he was chosen for his demeanor, behaviour, and personality being more benefitial as a villain than as a hero. he never reflects that they chose him because he's an straight out horrible person.

and one of the worst travesties of the narrative. ¿the final exams? ¿that pair up Bakugou and Izuku together because of their "rivalry"? i don't know what the hell aizawa smoked, but i need some of it to relax after having to deal with his BS reasoning.

i have two mayor problems with this particular issue:

by the context we are given by the teacher (what we are told), they are tested together because their rivalry could be dangerous if its left unatended like it was currently seen (something that should be aizawa's responsability to deal with). the problem rises when we take in count their behaviours (what we are shown) in which someone could see that the agression is completely one-sided from bakugou's side. meaning that if they're tested together, the over-all weight of the failure or success of the team is solely on Bakugou, since Izuku has no problem working with anyone since he can sinergize quite well with his skill set in analisys. this test is unfair for izuku since they are putting part of the blame of bakugou's shittiness on izuku, and these exams should show what they learned or how they react in situations outside their confort zones. my point is that it doesn't showcase anything that we haven't seen izuku acomplishing before, this test only favors bakugou.

another pair that was mismatched on this exam was shoto and momo against aizawa, since shoto's problem, while technically is an overeliance on his quirk, he's been using only half the incomplete version of it for a long time, meaning that pairing him up with aizawa is logically speaking, more counterproducent than needed

the way it should have been is: izuku and momo vs aizawa; shoto and katsuki vs All might.

for the former, izuku and momo share a similar trait at this time in canon that is self doubt of their own worth and capabilities, and with aizawa as an opponent, Izuku is reminded of his past as a quirkless individual, and can try to work around with momo about their issues regarding their positons in the hero course and how they use their quirks. izuku could acomplish passing the exam without using and start to heal from the malicious programing that make him believe his past as a quirkless has no value and can work on raising momo's self-steem and make them grow closer as friends. (also i think this is the perfect place for some Izumomo interactions)

for the latter, katsuki and shoto had the same problem that is pride on their quirks, and it has the upside of getting Katsuki the hell away from izuku's story, shoto wouldn't have the same patience izuku have towards bakugou's bullshit, and the possibility of them failing the exam despite being considered the strongest of class 1-a could be one of the biggest humble pies bakugou could recieve.

izuku and bakugou's arcs could work... as long as Izuku and him are separated. if the fics of Demonic Quirks for Dummies taughth me anything is, that with people that izuku could be open about his past as a bullyng and discrimination victim, and with a large distance away from katsuki, he can start to heal and start to see that his life has value and matters for the people that love him, not for having power, but because he is someone that affects those around him, making them wanting to be better versions of themselves, and that are willing to give the favour back. and actually having Katsuki reflect that he is a horrible person, while been humiliated for his shitty behaviour, makes their growth more palatable to enjoy.

#izuku deserves better #bakugou critical

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bestfriend491 · 1 year

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Maybe, maybe not, I wouldn't be able to tell you

Okoye x Female Reader,

Summary: You have no sense of smell and you tend to forget to tell people. 4 times where you not being able to smell is brought up in the most ridiculous ways with Okoye there to witness it all.

Fluff

Warnings: 6.7k+ words, Slight injury, Depictions on violence, Timeline: Pre-Black Panther 1, Language.

Okoye looked at you from a distance, seeing you at the other side of the training facilities, having an end-of-training spar with one of the other Dora's. You enjoyed training casually whenever you could, having to be a fierce warrior so often sometimes draining you. Your witty banter and laughter surrounded the entire place.Whenever it wasn't necessary to stand guard you became a complete child, laughing and smiling with your fellow sister's.

Your energy around being a Dora Milaje was one of the best that many Wakandan's had ever seen. You carried yourself with strength and power, and also just enough charm and charisma to still be classified as approachable.

Okoye admired that about you. How approachable you were. It wasn't something she aspired to be, enjoying the fear that she invoked on others when she walked by. But, she still enjoyed observing the way that you handled and interpreted being a Dora.

For centuries, your ancestors had used the same methods for both combat and normal guarding. Not much more was needed at the time. Just precision, and grace. But over more recent years, sometimes it was a soft persona that was needed, making it easy to get people to trust you and also making it easy to make people underestimate you so you could strike without automatic defence.

You, never fully being one for constant tradition, unlike Okoye, thrived in this realm. Finding it easy to assess and apply both the old and the new techniques that you knew to the job.

Okoye always looked for your input on somethings, knowing that you could give a more objective overall opinion.

You and her were as close as you'd expect, being a part of the same group of warriors, but you weren't as close as perhaps Okoye and Ayo.

You were friendly, and you enjoyed each other's company, but there wasn't much after that.

Truth be told, Okoye had a growing crush on you, something that she had been trying to get rid of for years now, since before you were even officially Dora's.

The two of you met on the first day of training, and you made the best first impression on her. Since then, she'd been looking at you from afar, wondering what it would be like if you were closer.

"Okoye, just ask her. What's the worst that could happen?" Came Ayo's voice suddenly, making Okoye jolt from the shock. She put her hand on her chest, feeling her heart rate increase.

"Don't creep up on me like that." She aimed a weak push towards the other woman, allowing herself to miss on purpose as the other woman watched her put up more walls than before, trying to prevent herself from being exposed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. But don't ignore my previous statement. You need to finally ask her, you've been like this for years, and you don't want to miss your opportunity. "

She nodded, understanding that Ayo was right, she needed to put her fears aside and go for it.

"What would we even do on a date?" She asked her friend, not sure where she would even take you.

"Anything. It's Y/n for Bast's sake. She is not very picky." Ayo responded, placing a hand on Okoye's shoulder to reassure her.

Okoye still wasn't too sure, never having seen you take any interest in her. She packed her things as slowly as possible, wanting to be alone with you when she took such a big risk.

When everyone else had left and it was just the two of you, she approached you, seeing you put on a concerning amount of deodorant, as well as some extra body spray to top it all off.

She'd seen you do this numerous times and she wasn't sure what to make of this, assuming that maybe you just really liked being clean and fresh. Thinking back, she had never remembered even one session of training where you hadn't done this same procedure afterwards.

By the time that she got to you, you were still distracted packing up, singing a popular song from a new band in town to yourself as you took off your gear.

Okoye cleared her throat. Gaining your attention suddenly.

"Okoye! I didn't realise you were still there. Do you need my assistance with something?" You asked, looking at the woman who usually held herself high, looking, might you say, quite flustered.

All previous plans on how to ask you out were completely thrown out of her head when you spoke to her, and she was at a loss for words.

"Okoye, are you okay? Did you need something?" Asking her again as you stood up, bringing your hand up onto her shoulder, which only flustered her more.

Okoye accidently jerked at the sudden placement, causing you to remove her hand, fearing that you had made her uncomfortable.

Finally getting herself together she spoke. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in me taking you out." She finally said, shifting uncomfortably under your gaze.

You made a sound, one that asked a question.

What did she mean by taking you out?

Okoye realised that she was leaving a lot of room for interpretation, so she quickly corrected herself.

"Take you out on a date.!" smiling at you sheepishly she looked down.

You smiled back, appreciating her clarification.

While Okoye crossed her fingers, hoping that you'd at least reject her quickly so she could never think about this moment again, you just put your hand on her shoulder again, now giving her a squeeze of reassurance.

"Is dinner at my house tomorrow night okay with you? We could go on a walk later. " you offered.

Okoye finally made eye contact with you, shocked that you were open to the idea at all. She nodded, wanting to pinch herself but also being relieved that you were interested.

You let your hand drop from her shoulder to her hand, holding it in yours before going down to kiss it.

Okoye felt a rush of blood moving up to her face, and she was glad you had walked away so you wouldn't be able to see her smiling so widely.

She left the facilities, barely being able to wait for the next day.

The next day, Okoye woke up as early as she could, not being able to sleep through all of the excitement.

She only had a half day at the palace today, being it the weekend, so she went to the palace to do her duties before rushing out as soon as she was let go of the day's responsibilities.

She wanted to impress you, and thinking that you appreciated good scents, she got you a bouquet of flowers from the market that gave off the most enchanting smell.

"Special occasion?" Asked the woman that was helping her pick the flowers. She nodded, not wanting to give that many details away and not wanting to smile too widely at the thought of being around you.

She walked to your house, which was located just outside of the busy centre of Wakanda, something Okoye had heard you talk about loving frequently.

As she approached your home, she saw you outside in the distance, sitting on a chair at the front of it.

You were wearing a loosely fitted, soft two-piece with sandals. You weren't on duty today, so you must have been home most of the day resting.

As soon as you saw her, you smiled, stood up , and walked towards her, closing the distance between the two of you with a hug. Okoye, not used to the physical contact, remained rigid, having to remind herself to allow herself to relax with you. Even if just a little bit.

"I got you these." She handed you the flowers once you let go. You took them looking at them with grateful eyes.

"Thank you, they look amazing."

She was relieved once again, seeing that you liked them. "They smell even better." She let out a few nervous chuckles.

You put your nose to the flowers, before shrugging, and directing her inside.

Okoye grew nervous again. Had you not liked them? Was the scent not up to your standards? She wanted to ask you this but got distracted by the amazing smell of food coming from inside.

"This looks amazing." She looked at you, wondering how she didn't realise that you could cook too.

'What can't she do?' She asked herself, settling into your home easily. It was a nice place, spacious but still just like you in the sense that it was warm and welcoming.

"Thank you, thank you." you replied to her spoken statement, playfully bowing down in a fake arrogant manner, like you were receiving an award.

Okoye laughed at you, feeling herself melt in your presence, a more playful side of her coming out.

She clapped and cheered you on as you walked towards the food, still bowing.

"My mom taught me. But trust me, this took years of practice, sthandwa."

Okoye's eyes widened at the term of endearment used.

There you went again, making her feel things. She hated it. And loved it at the same time.

You smirked, winking at her while offering her a plate of the meal.

Okoye kept her composure for the rest of the night, enjoying telling you about herself, and enjoying learning more about you.

"You'd said that this took practice, meaning you've messed up at least once. Do you care to share a tale of one of your cooking fails?" She asked as you were halfway through your meal.

"There are so many, Okoye. How could I choose just one?" You laughed, thinking back to the amount of times that you nearly wrecked your mother's home while you were learning how to cook as a child.

"Tell me about the first time you cooked this specifically."

"Okay."

You took a while to get your story formed correctly from foggy memory.

"Well. I'd been watching her make this for years, and she had told me to try and make some on my own while she went to work. So I got to work. Cutting, chopping, cleaning, and seasoning all of the ingredients." You struggled to get through the story without cracking a massive smile.

"I needed to allow everything to slow cook for a while so I covered the pot that it was all in with a lid and went to sit down for a moment. But I was so tired from playing with my friends earlier in the day and I fell asleep for 6 hours. The only reason I woke up was because of my mother yelling at me." You changed your posture, Okoye seeing that your new posture was resembling what your mother must have looked like at that time.

"Y/N, vuka mntwanandini ungakhathaliyo! (Y/N, wake up you careless child!)" You imitated your mother's angry tone, making Okoye laugh, remembering her own mother reprimanding her in a similar way for similar reasons.

You continued, "Ukutya kuyatsha! Ukutya kuyatsha. (The food is burning! The food is burning!)"

Okoye laugh some more, enjoying your story. "You couldn't smell it burning when you slept?" She asked as she looked at you.

Going back to your normal voice, "No. I don't have a sense of smell, so I couldn't smell it. I ended up just running around apologising to her for nearly burning down her ho-"

"Wait, what?" Okoye stopped you in your tracks, thinking that she hadn't heard you correctly. You realised what you said and began to explain.

"Yes. I don't have a sense of smell. I've never had one." You smiled at her look of astonishment.

She put a hand on your shoulder now, her face going serious.

"You're joking, right?"

You shook your head at her.

"How did I not know about this?"

"I tend to forget to bring it up, it's a nuisance to explain to some people. I just can't smell anything. I don't even get nauseated from smells. I like to say that my nose is just there for decoration" You explained, laughing at your own joke.

Okoye was still confused, she looked at the flowers she had bought. "You smelled the flowers."

"I breathed their air in, yes, but I couldn't actually smell anything. I just do that out of instinct from seeing other people do it my whole life."

She started to put the pieces together now. You must've drenched yourself in all those products after training because you couldn't smell yourself and would never know if you had an unpleasant odour. She laughed at your smart way of thinking, this somehow just being another thing that she knew she was going to love about you.

She kissed you then and there.

Okoye approached her home, covering her nose to protect it from a bad smell that was occupying the area around. It was almost nauseating and it seemed to only be around the area, not spread out elsewhere.

She opened her door, knowing that you had arrived hours earlier to help her set up for this important meeting, therefore not being surprised that you were inside.

"Sthandwa! You're back!" You said, approaching her and giving her a big hug and a loving kiss as she entered.

She gave into the kiss, allowing herself a few moments to enjoy your presence, before she got back to business.

The two of you had been together for 9 months now, and your family had decided that that was far too long for them to have not met her in person yet, so Okoye offered her place as a venue to host them for the evening.

You had worked the night shift so you left in the morning to get everything ready, while Okoye worked until the early afternoon, coming straight home to help you.

She was excited but nervous to meet your family, having heard a lot about them. Your parents seemed to be quite the characters, and there were a few cousins who she was eager to get approval from, knowing that you loved them and cared about what they thought.

The terrible aroma surrounding the place was killing her spirit though, because it seemed to be getting worse.

"Why does it smell so terrible?" She asked, more to herself as you wouldn't know what she was talking about.

You shrugged, going back to cleaning the kitchen area that you had made a complete mess while making food.

Okoye went to her room, changing out of her clothes and choosing to take a quick shower to hopefully make herself feel less stressed.

She came out in a gorgeous blue outfit that was still loyal to her warrior-like style, but much more casual than the Dora Milaje armour.

She came up to you hugging you from behind, soaking in your happy energy. You turned, giving her another kiss, when a sound came from the other side of Okoye's house.

Okoye looked at you, and you quickly turned around to avoid looking directly at her.

"Maaahhhh!" The noise from outside came again.

"Y/n. What was that noise?" She asked you, turning you around to see the guilty look on your face.

"Y/n, what did you do?"

"Nothing… too terrible." You tried to minimise the situation. She glared at you, moving to leave the house and see what you had done.

You tried to step in front of her

" Okay, fine. I did do something a bit unplanned. But before you see it, I'd just like to say that it was with good reason." She rolled her eyes, moving you gently to get out of the door and turn to walk to the other side of her house.

There she saw a small herd of goats grazing and walking around. She sighed, turning again to you for an explanation.

"I was in town, looking for everything that we needed for today, and Ma Zobula came up to me asking for help. Nobody was buying her goats and she really needed them to be taken out of her hands. I felt bad so I bought them all." You said, trying to defend the choices that you had made.

Okoye sighed, looking at you with disappointment written all over her face. Bringing her mouth up to cover her nose from the smell, she took your hand and moved you away from the goats.

"Y/n, I think there's a reason why nobody was buying those goats. They smell absolutely horrific.You know that Ma Zobula is not one to be trusted with animals. Plus what in Bast's name did you plan to do with all of them?" She asked some very valid questions.

You nodded your head in understanding, realising that you really didn't know what you were going to do with them.

You then started laughing at Okoye's previous statement. You'd completely forgotten to think about the possible smell that could have been on the goats. Okoye watched you make that revelation, choosing to laugh with you, now.

"Well, what can we do now? She's not going to give me my money back?" You said in between cackles, struggling to keep yourself up.

"I don't know, but they can not stay here. I'm trying to impress your family, not scare them away." You nodded, agreeing with Okoye's words.

You definitely could not have your family meet Okoye with the goats there if they smelled that bad. Your cousins would never let you hear the end of it.

Your brain racked, trying to think of anything. An hour passed, and you began to worry as you didn't have much time before your family arrived.

"You know what. I think I have a temporary solution." Okoye said remembering who else was off duty.

Okoye took off one of her beads, choosing to call her friend.

Soon, Ayo's body appeared holographically.

"Sister, do you need something?" She asked.

"I actually do. Would you mind doing me a favour? I need to drop a few things off at your house for the day, I'll explain everything later." She didn't go into detail but Ayo agreed and you and Okoye went to work travelling the goats to her home, being glad that it wasn't that far away.

You barely stayed long enough to explain, leaving a confused Ayo looking at you, astonished.

You and Okoye rushed back to her house, doing everything to get rid of the remaining smell while also ignoring Ayo's consistent calls.

You'd explain it later.

"Are you really ready for this?"

You turned your head to Okoye, your girlfriend of 2 years now as she stopped once again, silently pleading for you to change your mind and ask to go back home.

"You say it like we're going to war, Okoye." You squeezed her hand once again in reassurance, sure that you were ready to finally meet her family.

"Calm down, Sthandwa sam. I'm doing this, and you are too. Please? For me?"

Taking a deep breath, she continued walking with you as you entered the Border Tribe Village, where you were going to be meeting her family for the first time.

Although there wasn't much resistance from you or any conflict in your relationship, there was still a one year time difference between when she met your family and when you met hers. She had changed the topic every time you brought it up for months until you finally put your foot down and said that you were definitely going to meet them.

She didn't hate her family by any means, but they were a lot to handle sometimes. She was a carbon copy of a lot of her family members and she was just scared that being around that much of the same energy would freak you out.

Your family was also very similar to you, but that included all of your good traits. Such as your charm and charisma.

Okoye wasn't too sure which traits she considered to be good and which bad but she knew that either way, her family had them and her mother was definitely a little bit more intimidating than yours was. Especially when it came to Okoye's partner's.

She'd told you this multiple times in hopes that this would scare you off but instead, you just ended up wanting to meet them even more, her mother more specifically, saying that multiple Okoye's would be an absolute experience. She felt the blood rushing through her face again and this is what convinced her to show up.

Now, she regretted not resisting your attempts to woo her, because you were steps away from her childhood home and everybody was probably going to be there, ready to comment about things that weren't necessary.

Reaching the doorway, you looked her way again, nodding to indicate that there was no backing down, before declaring your presence.

She entered first, taking your hand in a tight grip as she plastered a smile on her face.

"Molweni, molweni. Sifikile. (Hello, hello. We have arrived.)"

A woman who you immediately recognized as her mother came forward, as you greeted everyone. Eyeing you over, like she was inspecting you.

"So you are the famous Y/n? The one that has captured my daughter's heart?" She asked.

You nodded, clearing your throat before answering.

"I'm not too sure about being famous but yes, that is me. It is lovely to meet you, Ma." You waited anxiously as the woman approached you slowly, leaving absolutely no room between the two of you.

She raised her arm in a gesture that you assumed was to ask for a handshake. Still scared, you welcomed her strong grip as she seemed to soften a bit while still inspecting you.

You stood still as she did so, not wanting to move out of fear that she would assume that you were uninterested in getting to know her. The atmosphere was a bit awkward and the reckless part of you thought of a million and one bad jokes to say, you having to stop them from coming out of your mouth.

After what felt like decades, she let go and Okoye's father came to the front, a lot more easygoing, demanding a hug rather than a handshake, before everyone else came in with the same welcoming energy.

Okoye sighed in relief as you were taken out of her grasp by family members that were excited to meet you. The short introduction with her mother had even gone much better than she had expected, even though she wouldn't really call it an introduction.

She finally allowed herself to become at ease, being home for the first time in a long time. She took in all of the things that were different and some of the things that were still the same about everything around there.

She turned to look for you so that she could point you to all of the areas and places where all of her childhood stories had taken place, but was disappointed to see that you weren't in sight.

You'd been taken by one of her younger cousins who wanted to show you around. She was going to attempt to come with you but an aunt of hers that she hadn't seen since before leaving to become a Dora took her to sit for a chat.

The conversation she had with her was wonderful and she really did enjoy talking with the wiser, older woman but she was itching to be next to you, so she excused herself as soon as she could, going outside to find you.

There she saw you, playing with the children, entertaining them with exaggerated stories. She could tell by your hand gestures that it was a story about some mission you'd been on, and the kids were loving it.

A yell from inside called the kids to come and get snacks while the proper food was being prepared, causing the kids to rush away from you and towards the house.

You approached Okoye now, not having been next to her in almost 2 hours but as soon as you reached her, another child popped up out of nowhere directing you into the house. Okoye decided that since you were having fun, she was going to walk around the village. See what else was still the same.

She was glad to see that not too much was different, the same people still being in their respective homes. There were more Rhinos now, something she was happy to see as she had loved growing up with them around.

She went in search of her favourite rhino. Atem, the one that she had brought up from calf days.

She found him grazing away to himself, walking slowly around to her.

"You've grown." She spoke to him, although he wouldn't be able to respond.

Instead, he grunted at her, allowing her to touch him ever so slightly. She stroked his skin firmly but still gentle, telling him all of the feelings she had about today. She was comfortable doing that as there didn't seem to be anyone else around and a rhino wasn't going to tell her secrets to the world.

"I really love her, Atem. She's made me feel things I didn't even know were possible." He grunted again, like he understood what she was saying.

"The glow in her eyes in the morning when we wake up. The smiles that she throws me in passing when we are on duty. The way that she tells her stories with so much enthusiasm. She is just perfect."

Just as Okoye was about to continue, she heard footsteps behind her.

"Y/n unentliziyo yakho, ngokuqinisekileyo. (Y/n has your heart, for sure) "

Okoye turned to see her mother next to her now, standing down again as she didn't need to be strong with her mother there. She laid her head on her mother's shoulder, although the woman was shorter than her.

"Mhm," She sighed, "I think I'm going to ask for her hand in marriage soon. I know that 2 years seems rushed but I think that it's time." She finally revealed the words that she hadn't allowed to become real until now.

"You should. I can see the intense love in both of your eyes. She's definitely the most genuine person you've ever brought home."

The younger woman nodded, smiling at her mother's approval of her decision. Her mother held her for a while as they stared up into the evening sky. Then, her mother moved abruptly, silently instructing them to walk back to everyone else. She nudged Okoye.

"Plus, I like her. She's funny and she has a great sense of smell."

Okoye stopped at her mother's words, wondering what must have given her that impression.

"What makes you think that, Mama?" She asked.

"I caught her looking inside the pots while the children were occupied. I asked what she thought and she had some great opinions on my seasonings and flavour choices."

"Is that so!" Okoye let out a laugh, wondering why on this here land you had done that, knowing that you couldn't have sensed a thing. Her mother gave her a questioning look, asking her what all the fuss was about, but she shook her head, saying that it was nothing.

As she finally got time to be around you when you were sitting next to each other eating, she took the opportunity to ask.

"My mother said you have an amazing sense of smell. Do you care to explain how she came to that conclusion?" She teased you as you put your head down sheepishly. You could feel your heart racing.

" I got nervous. How was I going to explain smelling the food when I can't actually smell it? I didn't have the heart to tell her after I realised what had happened, sthandwa. I wanted her to like me." She laughed as you hid your face from her, feeling embarrassed that you'd somehow done that.

" No need to worry about that, my love. She definitely likes you. " She said, smiling at you, thinking about all of the amazing future events that the two of you would eventually go to as wives.

The building that you were located in was one of New York's most exclusive museums, and the area that was being used for the particular event happening was not spared even the slightest of expenses. when it came to the decor and the design.

You stood in a black dress with a matching blazer and heels on, scoping out the vicinity for any potential threats. You saw Nailah on the opposite side of the room, and Aneka by the doors.

You were the only three Dora Milaje at that particular scene. Prince T'Challa and the others having to go elsewhere to deal with an active crisis. The mission you were on was only a mission of speculation, someone having tipped Shuri off about an attack possibly happening at this event from an unknown threat who was trying to steal a weapon of mass destruction. One that was confirmed to be made of vibranium only weeks ago.

You always wondered why some places were so adamant on displaying such dangerous weapons, showing them to the general public, giving them such easy access, but you enjoyed international missions so you weren't complaining.

Wakanda, still being reserved in their distribution of information about their richness in vibranium and general wealth to the rest of the world, needed to retrieve the weapon if someone truly was targeting it.

Okoye, being the General, was forced to go with the Prince on his mission, not being very amused by the fact that you wouldn't be near her. She had been communicating with you on your beads non stop for 10 minutes, trying to make sure that you were okay.

"Okoye, not now." You said to yourself as you ignored your beads signals repeatedly.

Aneka laughed through your ear piece, seeing your frustration from where she stood.

"Wife troubles?" She teased as you heard Nailah let out a single chuckle too.

"You don't know the half of it." You said, sighing. You loved Okoye, you really did. And you hated being apart from her too, but the continuous interrupting of your work was becoming ridiculous.

You sent her a quick message under a table nearby, telling her to stop. This somehow only made the situation worse because now your beads were lighting up aggressively and they weren't stopping.

You huffed in agitation.

"Excuse me, you two. I need to go to the restroom to answer this woman before she attempts to show up here to see me."

The other two women hummed an "ok" in response, allowing you to break your usual code as there wasn't much happening besides the floor becoming more and more crowded. You moved your way past a lot of people, reaching the bathroom just as someone was going to go in. You felt bad for taking up the entire area but nobody outside of Wakandan heritage was to see your beads capabilities as they would ask too many questions.

Tapping the communication bead on your wrist, Okoye showed up in front of you, the holograph showing that her face was very unhappy.

"Was that so hard?" She asked as your face eased seeing her.

"My love. I'm sorry for the long wait, but I'm busy."

"I know, but Shuri alerted me that there was still no active threat on the premises so answering me for a few minutes wasn't going to hinder your mission in any way."

"Fair enough." You let out a sigh. "Sthandwa, how is your mission going? Did everything go according to plan?" You asked, deciding that bickering was not something you had time for.

"Yes, my love. We're just heading onto the quinjet now. If your mission brings nothing in the next few hours, I'll see you at our hotel."

"I'll see you soon, they're really isn't much going on here. Maybe the warning was a pra-" just as you spoke, you heard 5 loud bangs, sudden screams and dangerously heavy footsteps swarming the floor you were on.

"What was that?" Your wife asked.

"I don't know, but my love I have to go."

" Y/n! Don't be reckl-'' You hung up before she could finish, knowing what she was going to tell you.

You rushed out, looking for Nailah and Aneka.

The moment that you entered the room you were previously in, you saw the absolute chaos that had erupted.

Clouds of smoke were covering the air of the place, people were trampling all over each other trying to get out, screaming and shouting while others were collapsing in the middle of the floor. There was shattered glass on the floor, and flames burning from lines of candles being dropped when tables fell.

You could barely see, so there was no way you'd be able to move quickly without hurting someone on the floor.

"What's going on?! What happened?" You asked the people connected to your earpiece.

Nailah's voice came first, sounding quite winded.

"They put some type of explosives on the corners of the place. People are collapsing from the chemical smell. I think they did something to alter the regular military mini bombs."

You listened to her as you looked at everyone fleeing. You were feeling just fine so far, so you hoped that the sensory tactic couldn't work on you.

You moved down to get a better view without the intense smoke that came with standing up. There were a lot of people on the floor, but most of them had fallen down close enough to the door for other people to help them outside.

"We need to get these people out of here."

You lifted up two bodies at once, taking them to have the exit before going back in to get another two.

While doing this, you were also looking for the threats that were looking for the artefact. After the first wave of dust and smoke subsided slightly, you saw 6 masked figures headed for the area where it was being held.

You dragged the last of the people out in your view. Looking for the other Dora's. It didn't take long for you to see, Aneka collapsed on the ground while Nailah clutched onto her shoulder, trying to help her. Most people were in similar condition, either severely injured or having a hard time not convulsing.

Just then, another round of explosions hit the same area, probably to warn off any people from coming in.

"I have to get back in there." You said, looking at Aneka and Nailah.

"Y/n you can't! Those chemicals are going to kill you. You also don't have a mask to protect yourself." Nailah protested, pointing to what the gas fumes had done to everybody else. You gave her direct eye contact, giving her your most sincere reassurance that you could.

"Just get back up here! I'll be fine!" You said knowing that even if the smoke and chemicals were killing you, you wouldn't be able to sense it until your body gave out. That meant that you'd be at full fighting capacity for at least 10 minutes.

Before allowing her to give you her final verdict, you ran back in, retrieving your spear from a pocket, expanding it as you approached the 6 figures.

The smoke was the only thing affecting you because you could barely see, but you strained your eyes to allow you to focus more, and you were able to navigate your way to them.

They were still trying to take the artefact out of the compartment it was in. One of them attempted to smash the glass but the specific glass used wasn't one that could shatter.

"You really thought a big museum like this wasn't going to have at least a slightly efficient security?" You said, getting all six of them to look your way.

Instantly, 3 of them came for you, while the others tried other methods to break the glass.

You swung your spear, using it to push the first person to the ground while you actively fought the other two. One of them tried to use more chemicals, you slipped behind them to flip them to the ground, electrocuting them with your spear.

The last person tried to yield seeing what you had done to the other 2, but you took advantage of their fear, knocking them unconscious from the front.

The 3 standing were now attempting to use a laser to cut through the glass, and it was working.

You didn't have much time, not feeling drained in any way but your beads beeping to indicate that your heart rate was dropping as well as your oxygen levels.

To the distant left, you also heard a whimper coming from under a table nearby, probably someone who was trampled.

'Shit', you thought to yourself, seeing that you'd need to make a decision between saving whoever that was and getting the weapon.

You somehow concluded that you could do both, running to attack the other three as quickly as possible so that you could help the person.

You fought hard, taking 2 more people out leaving just the ringleader. Just as you were going to attack, they looked forward at you, taking off their mask to show their evil grin, before they pressed a button attached to wires that were attached to their body.

As soon as it was pressed, you felt the impact of multiple explosions going off.

Outside, Nailah heard the explosions, much louder than any previous ones. She had used her Kimoyo Beads to summon backup. But it was taking forever and she wasn't sure you'd still be conscious now.

She could barely move, her shoulder busted from falling at the first explosion, right into a very sharp flag post, that pierced through the ends.

Aneka was slowly regaining consciousness, but time was running out for how long you could last.

Ambulances and police cars were beginning to arrive, people being assisted as best as they could with limited resources.

"Nailah! What happened!" The prince and other Dora approached, T'Challa asking the only conscious warrior.

Nailah explained the events, Okoye nearly collapsing after hearing that you ran back in.

"You let her go back?!" She questioned the woman, losing her composure.

"No, General. She disobeyed my direct orders to stay."

Just then, another explosion, followed by a figure approaching. It was you, holding a person.

Your head was bleeding from multiple places, and the rest of your body could barely stay up.

Okoye rushed to you as you put the person down, collapsing right next to them.

"Sthandwa sam, are you ever going to stop worrying me?" Okoye's voice was the first thing you heard when you regained consciousness.

"Y/N!" Okoye was the last person's voice that you heard.

You shifted, grunting and smiling at yourself, opening your eyes to see the woman sitting next to you, her head bowed down.

"Maybe, maybe not. I wouldn't be able to tell you that now." You croaked.

Okoye looked up, seeing you awake. She smiled now, laughing at your words now.

"Loving you is a mission sometimes, Y/n." She joked, you joined in on her laughter. Suddenly, her face then became more serious.

"I told you not to be reckless."

"I wasn't trying to be. I was just using the gift that Bast gave me. My useless nose saved me, you know." She shoved you, not appreciating the joke.

You nudged her, smiling at her, prompting her to ease, laughing once again.

"I guess it did. Now people think that you have super powers. I heard Nailah talking to the others on our trip back."

Only now did you realise that you were in the royal infirmary, back in Wakanda.

"I didn't have the heart to correct her." You chuckled through a yawn, realising that this had somehow become your thing.

Besides your family, Okoye was still the only person who knew about your non-existent sense of smell. You have grown more and more grateful for this.

It was fun having her be the only person knowing. It brought adventures much like this one to your relationship, and more importantly; it brought a lot of jokes.

Author's Note: Day One, Number 2. I hope you enjoyed.

#okoye x reader #black panther #wakanda forever #general okoye #okoye one shot #dora milaje #okoye #midnight angels #aneka #ayo #domestic fluff #okoye fluff #fluff

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cosmetichorror · 4 months

Text

(Crawls out from under your bed)

Hey (with charisma)

I’m writing again, here’s some WIPS/finished projects

— GHOSTING rewrite, LU, Wind and Wild centric chapter

Wild sighs and pulls his knees up to his chest. With every aching day he can feel his body fading away, and it's painful in more sense than one. Death is a prospect he tries to avoid in what's left of his life. After all- he's only half dead. The idea of being fully dead makes his chest feel tight, as if death himself had grabbed hold of his lungs and began to squeeze with his boney fingers.

He lets his head fall atop his knees as he tries to change the subject at hand. He won't disappear soon– right? Of course, the what if still lingers in the back of his mind. What if he disappears in the middle of the night? What then? What will the others think?

A groan falls out of his mouth as he falls back onto the grass and spreads his arms out, staring up at the evening sky. The sunset is rather soothing this evening. And as the clouds float ahead he fruitlessly reaches his arms up to the sky as if to grab hold of one, his eyes illuminated with a slight glaze. He feels timeless in this moment, until a small, shaky voice called out to him,

“...Champion?”

And he could have sworn what's left of his soul left his very body as he jolts up, yanking his head towards the source of the voice, his eyes falling immediately on Wind. The sailor looks conflicted, as if hurt but not entirely surprised.

“You’re a ghost,” He said as if he knew it was a fact. “I had a suspicion, I just wish it wasn’t true.”

“…” Wild seems to ponder what to say at first, before sighing with a simple “Yeah.”, as he wasn’t sure what else to say. There certainly was no denying it— Wind may be young but he is no fool.

—

I don’t think I’ll ever forget (I wish I was like you) Purah centric, descriptions of dead body and insides falling out + gross death stuff and loss of faith

When we removed his shirt, I almost passed out. His skin peeled up easily along with the shirt with a sickening sound. His muscles and tendons were melted and barely held his skin together. His chest overall was a mess of blood, bone and guts. His skin was charred black in some places, peeling up in others with chunks missing to where we could see his innards. Before then I had never seen someone’s guts sticking out, but I suppose everything changes. We quickly removed the rest of his clothes and put him in the tub. As soon as he was in there, it started to fill with a thick liquid of sorts. It was a vibrant blue, and was thicker than water. We watched as it filled up past his face and overtook him completely. Robbie ushered me to put the slate on the pedestal so he’d have a way to get out if– when he awoke. As we ran out before the doors shut on us, Robbie pulled out his bow and some bomb arrows he had been saving, and shot at the stairs as we ran up. I stood outside and yelled at him to hurry up, but he said he wouldn't leave until the stairs were gone. He wanted to make sure if anything broke into the shrine, they couldn’t reach him. As soon as the stairs were nothing more than a pile of rubble, he ran out just in time to miss getting trapped. But we had one last thing to do.

As we ran back down off the plateau, Robbie planted bomb arrows at every crack and weak point, ushering me to do the same. When we ran out of bomb arrows about half way down, we started improvising with fire chuchu jelly, and taking what we could find from corpses nearby.

When Robbie set ablaze those bombs, the stairs came crashing down in a mess of smoke and debris, but it was done.

As soon as our job was done, I fell to my knees and puked. Robbie had started crying, and he took off his goggles for the first time in a while. I think we both sat on the ground (away from my vomit) and sobbed for ages. We were exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and covered in blood, most of which wasn't ours. I think on the way back to kakiriko I had thrown up three more times.

We had only spent a few days in Kakiriko before we went our separate ways. I’ll never forget the feeling of leaving the most important people in my life.

If Hylia is real, we’re her joke book. I wonder if she’s laughing down at me right now, and I hate her. If she’s real, she’s a monster as bad as the calamity. I’m cursed to live with this blight inside my mind, I fear I’ll never be me again. Maybe Hylia is dead, and soon we all will join her as well. And when the stars call my name maybe I can rest knowing I did my best, but I don't think I’ll ever forget again. When I close my eyes I see the horrors, and when I speak all that comes out is a mumble. All I can do anymore is focus on my work, but it’s not the same. In truth I’d rather be dead than live knowing things may not get better.

—-

Okay I actually write those requests I got now lol

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linked universe au #linked universe wild #linked universe fanfic #lu wild #linked universe in general #botw link #botw purah #legend of zelda purah #graphic descriptions #purah totk #wip stuff #ao3 author

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foolondahill17 · 8 months

Text

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, @urne-buriall, and they're all your fault. Today's segment let off at the same point where my initial read-through stopped before I had to wait for chapter updates. I'm struck with the same feeling of heartache for Dean and frustration for the way both Kate and Sam reacted to his situation.

1. I'm trying to respond to Kate sympathetically. John is a man she's known for some time and the father of her child. She wants to think the best of him. In the 90s there wasn't as much public information about people in domestic abuse situations, especially not a young man like Dean (and this is still true for a lot of male victims). But I can't help but view Kate through the lens of someone in this day and age.

If someone tells you they are being abused (let alone an eighteen-year-old kid) you never - never - go to the alleged abuser to ask if it's true. The amount of danger she put Dean in after he just disclosed this secret to her, especially when he'd been trying to keep her son safe? I'm stunned she could make that kind of decision.

Although my frustration toward Kate is understandable, I think my anger is misplaced - that should only be directed toward John. John is the danger here, not Kate. In fact, Kate is another potential victim, perhaps, if Dean had never said anything. She's in a difficult situation, too - an unwed, single mother trying to build a better life for her son. It's understandable she's blinded by John's charisma.

I also can't imagine the guilt Kate must experience after this moment: she has to learn about Dean pressing charges against John, eventually, and - she's a smart lady - she'll now not only have irrefutable proof of John's actions but also guess that John must have blown up at Dean after her phone call. Her horror and shame over that decision will likely haunt her for the rest of her life. It's a sign of Dean's tremendous compassion that he forgives her (if he ever even blames her in the first place; I imagine it would take a couple years for him to even register he was upset about her actions, let alone voice them). I hope they're able to have a conversation about it someday.

2. My frustration toward Sam is a little milder. After all, Sam is a child. He can't be expected to react with the same level of knowledge and maturity. But I'm still yelling at him through the screen when he confronts John about leaving. Again, I can't help but think of the danger that creates for Dean. What if Sam had directly confronted John about hurting Dean? How would John have reacted? What if John had lashed out at Sam, and Dean had gotten in the middle?

Again, if someone comes to you with the fact they're being abused (and Dean didn't even tell Sam, in this case; Sam discovered it, himself) do. not. confront. the. abuser. But Sam is young and understandably selfish, impulsive, and self-riteous in the way teenagers are. What's more, Sam is also a victim of abuse, just not physically like Dean (which I tried to portray in my prequel). Sam's also had a neglectful and volatile father. He's seen how John treats Dean, and this has left scars and fears aplenty for Sam. He's also experiencing a trauma response, here, except his is to lash out rather than make himself smaller.

I can't help but see how both these events leave Dean. Of the only two people who know the secret of John's abuse, one immediately betrays that trust to his abuser, and one immediately leaves him to face the abuse by himself. It's a mark of Dean's tremendous strength that he ever tells anyone again about what John's done to him - a further testimony to his courage that he presses charges.

Yes, some of that choice to tell his story is taken out of his hands when John hurts him badly enough that the evidence is impossible to hide, but it's still Dean who ultimately decides to come forward. And it's a marvel that he finds that determination when he's been let down so badly by others before. I'm so fucking proud of him for his decisions in the next few segments: choosing to trust Missouri, Cas, Bobby, Ellen, and eventually Jody. I can imagine Dean faltering through his statement to Jody, "I know it's hard to believe -" and I like to think Jody, with calm and compassion, would immediately tell him, "I believe you."

I posted about it before, and, although I want nothing more than Cas to be there immediately to support Dean in this moment, I'm glad that his absence narratively gives Dean the space to grow as a character. In a way, Dean needed to reach this moment of despair (for the story; I'm not extending this to real-life abuse victims) in order to discover that he still has the capacity to trust the people around him. He needed to realize that he's not alone in this. All he needs to do is ask for help; he will be given it in spades.

#spirit of the west #spirit of the west daily #abuse mention

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this-daydream-is-dangerous-13 · 5 months

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There are so many songs that I find hard listening to cause they were written about YB, and knowing what we know now and how Taylor put him on a pedestal and made him out to be this perfect boyfriend when it wasn't true just absolutely disgusts me., plus the underlying layer of anxiety and her fear of him leaving, but no other song can quite literally trigger me like Peace does. His integrity made her feel small, feeling like she was wasting his honor for talking shit with her friends. Meanwhile, he was probably shit talking about her behind her back to his friends based on the Anti-Hero Remix. No wonder why all her friends unfollowed him so quickly. They were probably relieved she finally left him. Writing a song like You're Losing Me and STILL staying for over a year trying to fix things and his ungrateful ass couldn't do anything, not even the bare minimum. Like, you have THE TAYLOR SWIFT begging you to make things work and is willing to stay with you through all your bullshit and put up with your carelessness when she could so easily find someone new and have men lining up in a quee just to be with her, and you TAKE HER FOR GRANTED?????? Choose YET AGAIN (at the last minute cause you weren't even the first choice) your 5 min worth of screen time background role in a movie that probably no one's going to see over supporting your girlfriend ??? (Jack had Covid and couldn't attend, but he still watched through a grainy screen live on insta or tiktok and I'm sure Joe did not do that) When she's done nothing but supporting him and prioritizing him and following him around from country to country only to have him leave her behind to pack things up, cook for his cast mates, allow them to record music using her own equipment, him throw birthday surprise parties for his female co-star when he can't bother make time for her birthday, send his mom or brother to her events cause he can't show up, but is perfectly capable of showing up to events where he's got nothing going on for himself and take his own friends over his girlfriend who probably got him in the room in the first place, the list goes on and oooooooon. He was also fine with staying with her rent free and going on luxury vacations on private jets, get paid royalties from her music (Taylor definitely overexaggerated his contributions and was very generous with him only to have her craft compared and diminished to baking surdough bread in quarantine), but couldn't put up with her fame that was providing all this. (He strikes me as one of those people that secretly want the fame and attention on them but are going to complain and bitch about how that's not what they want once they get it. The thing is, the attention was on Taylor, and he couldn't be a side character or merely her boyfriend cause of his insecurities... well now he's Taylor Swift's ex first and foremost much to his inconvenience)

I can imagine him being jealous and insecure of how well the All Too Well short film was embraced by the industry he's been in for so long, only to have Taylor come in and be praised right and left for her talent. He's been basically "Hollywood's next big thing" each year ever since 2017 and each year being unsuccessful at it. It's embarrassing. (Even Harry, who's not the best actor out there and has no prior training or much knowledge in that field, has more talent, charisma and appeal in his pinky finger when it comes to acting than Joe does.)

I'm so here for YB lashings out on X. He's not a saint as some think. I can only imagine how he might've gaslighted and manipulated Taylor for her to always put the blame on herself in all her songs...

^^^^

Bring on TS11, where even if we don’t get more detail YB’s shitty behaviour, we WILL get more reflections on Blondie the Phoenix has risen.

Thanks for the detailed ask.

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mychemicalrachel · 8 months

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Hi! I’m super late to the party, but if you are still taking spicy prompts, I would like to request Jordeclan + 22 Thank you :)

[pwp prompts]

Thanks so much for the prompt, it's perfect for Jordeclan! It turned out a bit longer than I intended, so I hope you like it <3

22. Praise

It started with four simple words that put Declan’s teeth on edge;

"We need to talk."

He wasn't unfamiliar with them, but they weren't something he enjoyed hearing either– especially now, with his hand down the front of Jordan's pants, with her nails pressed into his shoulder, with his mouth on her neck.

"Declan," she swallowed, he could feel it, "I just… I have to be honest with you."

Over the years, a lot of girls had broken up with him. It was kind of inevitable due to the nature of the mask he wore; he lured them in with mystery and charisma and when they realized he had as much depth as a wet piece of cardboard, they left, and he found another girl, and the cycle continued…

But he knew, since the moment Jordan walked into his life, that she was different and he was different with her. When she shifted, he awkwardly extricated his hand from inside her panties and turned to face her.

“The thing is,” she said carefully, unusual since Jordan was not known for doing anything with care. Her reckless nature was something he admired. She pushed a hand through his hair, soothing him, nails scraping against his scalp, biding time to consider her own words. “Well, frankly, the thing is, last time we had sex, I kind of… faked it.”

She bit her lip and watched him process her straightforward statement– simple, and yet anything but.

She faked it. The big It.

“You faked an orgasm?” he asked.

That wasn't what he expected at all. He thought maybe it would've been better if she just dumped him.

Jordan grimaced, managing to look both suitably chastised and unashamed. “Yes.”

“Oh.” Declan leaned subtly away. He wondered how hard he would have to pray for a sinkhole to open beneath his feet and swallow him whole. Sex wasn’t a new concept to Declan, though doing it with Jordan was something he was still getting accustomed to. She was so very different from every girl before– energetic and vocal and confident– though he recalled her reaction was familiar: writhing and moaning and coming suddenly with his name on her tongue.

Now that he thought about it, perhaps it was too exaggerated. The idea that she faked that kind of passion made him uneasy. “I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”

Jordan reached out, trailing soft fingers and sharp nails over his jaw, down his neck, gripping his shoulders. “Don’t be upset, darling. It wasn’t you, alright? It was your technique.”

Declan wanted to fucking die.

“You just kind of jammed it in there and started jackhammering and it was–” Jordan sighed, “well, it kept going on and on and on–”

“I think I get the point,” Declan interrupted. “Thank you.”

“The reason I’m telling you,” Jordan stressed, her fingers under his chin, “is because I love you and I want you to try again. I want you to do better.”

Right. As if they were talking about a failed exam that Declan could just retake rather than having sex with his girlfriend. The pad of her thumb moved over his cheek where he knew his skin was dark red, flushed with embarrassment and hot with shame. How many other girls he fucked had left his apartment unsatisfied, and he’d never even known?

“We’re still learning each other,” she told him. “This is new to both of us. I want to be open and honest with you about everything, including this.” She kissed him, tender and gentle, sweet and slow, like honey on a summer day.

More than anything, he wanted to make her feel good.

“I love you,” he whispered into her mouth, and he felt more exposed than if he’d actually be naked. “I don't know how–”

“Touch me. Slowly.” She grinned at him, all sharp teeth, and her dark eyes gleamed. “A girl likes a bit of foreplay, you know.”

So he touched her. His hands traveled over her bare stomach, featherlight, almost ticklish, trailing up to the hem of her lacy black bra. He loved the feeling of her, soft and smooth under his palms, delicate and delicious. She leaned forward, capturing his lips, and in the same swift motion, managed to unhook her bra. It fell into his lap. He thought he could spend hours just undressing her, taking his time to explore every inch of her. He wanted to worship her like the goddess she was. He cupped one breast in his hand, kneading it between his fingers.

“Okay, no,” she said, not entirely unkind, but not entirely kind either. “You’re not making bread, Declan. Softer. Tease me a little.”

He stopped kneading her and decided to focus on her nipples instead. He circled one again and again until it hardened into a peak and then he pinched it lightly. Jordan sighed, “Good. That’s good.” Her head tipped back, long brown neck exposed, and the sight of her was tantalizing. “Yes.”

Prompted by her praise, he moved to the other nipple, repeating the motions. Circle, then pinch– hard enough to elicit a gasp. He dipped his head and tested the waters with his tongue, then his teeth when she enjoyed that– nipping, biting. With hands fisted in his hair, holding him close, she breathed, "God, Declan, yes. Good. You’re doing so good."

He worked his way down her body, kissing down her chest, tongue dipping into her navel, taking his time undoing her jeans and pushing them down her long, long legs. When her legs fell open, inviting and sexy, he had to remind himself to take it slow. He wanted to fucking ravish her. Palming himself through his slacks, he breathed, breathed, breathed, until he relaxed.

“Take your time,” Jordan said. She brought one hand to her lips and bit down on a fingernail, anticipation making her fidget or maybe it was her own futile attempt at grounding herself. He mouthed at her thigh, supple flesh against his tongue. He wanted to taste every bit of her, swallowing her down to the very last drop. He kissed the front of her pretty red panties and cast a glance upward to gauge her reaction. With half-lidded eyes, she smirked, tousling his hair. "You're bloody beautiful," she murmured softly. "Like you were made to fit between my thighs."

Declan flushed again, feeling hot all over. He teased, just as she instructed, his teeth scraping against her hips and his hands spread out over the backs of her thighs, her calves, her ass. Pressing his tongue to the wet spot on her underwear, he felt Jordan shiver.

He wanted to eat her out until she came, and then he wanted to fuck her until he came, too, but now he hesitated. He wanted this to be good for her– better than good. The best she’d ever had. “Tell me,” he said, and his breath was hotter than her skin. “Show me how you want it.”

Without preamble, Jordan tangled her fingers through Declan’s black hair and pushed his face between her legs. The scent of her was overwhelming, muddling every thought in his head until there was nothing left. There was only the smell of her and the taste of her and the sound of her. It pained him to move away enough to get her panties pushed down and then he returned with fervor, like a moth drawn to a flame. His lips circled her clitoris and he sucked hard enough for Jordan to jerk violently beneath him.

“Slow, slow, slow.” she reminded him, panting, pulling his hair so he lightened up, and then she patted his head, sighing, “That’s better.”

She directed him– “to the left” and “use your tongue” and “faster” and “harder”– and was rewarded with praise each time– “so perfect” and “good for me” and “yes, Declan, yes.” It filled him with pleasure to see how she came apart in his mouth, and it was different than before– more real. Her words became indecipherable moans, needy little breaths, and her legs quivered, tightening around his head. Her fingers pulled his hair while simultaneously pushing him closer, his face buried so deep he couldn’t breathe and he didn’t even care. He would gladly die here, drowned in her slick.

Her hips rocked when she came, a pitched whine catching in her throat. He licked between her soft folds, kissing her clit, savoring the taste of her. It was addictive, delicious. He wanted to keep going, maybe coax another orgasm or two out of her, but Jordan tugged on his hair again, dragging him up her body to kiss him hard. Her tongue dove into his mouth like she was attempting to steal her pleasure back. Hands roamed over Declan’s body– he’d forgotten, in the heat of the moment, that he had one of those, and now it ached with desire. He wanted Jordan, all of her, however she would have him.

Climbing into his lap, she ground down against him. The juxtaposition of her, bare and raw, rutting shamelessly against Declan’s still clothed cock made him feel like he was going to explode.

“Jordan,” he said, arms wound around her waist, “please.”

She kissed her way down his neck, tugging his earlobe between her teeth, and he shuddered. “You've done so well," she praised. "I'm going to fuck you now, but you’re not to come until I say. Understand?”

God, he needed to come right the fuck now. Somehow, through sheer force of will, he refrained. He nodded, a jerky motion that shook them both. “Please,” he said, and then more emphatically, “Jordan, please.”

She smiled, pleased, before her fingers trailed down his neck and finally, blissfully, slipped into his pants. He gripped her tight, tighter, and her voice was only a sigh, but it echoed through him, better than any fucking orgasm, when she said, “Good boy.”

#jordeclan #jordan hennessy #declan lynch #pwp #prompt #is the majority of the jordeclan stuff i write about declan going down on jordan?#absolutely #king shit #good for him

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