#FINALLY CAUGHT THE PEST | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkstaria · 19 days

Text

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 6:

Summary: After being ambushed previously in Gotham's streets, you awake alone and afraid, in a strange building.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

----

A furious pounding beat at your skull, a liquid of some kind dripped down from your head. You blinked your eyes open, greeted by what could only be some kind of warehouse.

You were in a daze, barely recognising what was in front of you. What vision you had was muddled by pain and your hearing was drowned out by a piercing beat in your ears.

What...?

You could hardly think.

The world was a messy tsunami of pain and confusion. That is... Until a flash of green, white and red beamed into your eyes, a sneering smile on its face.

You gasped. Breath caught in your throat, as your chin was caught in his hand.

The Joker.

"HahahahahahaHAHAHAHA!" The laugh echoed throughout the building as your surprise turned into shakes. The hand left go as Joker's chortle turned into a full laugh, but that was hardly a relief.

This was, quite literally, the worst situation you could have ever gotten into. Out of everyone who would have an interest in Batman's soulmate, why must it be him?

You instinctively try to move, but soon realise you've been restrained, ropes tying you down to an iron chair. They don't budge.

The stomping of shoes drew your attention back to him, as the Joker approached you again.

"Well now." He began, a beaming grin stretching his face. "Lookie what we have here. You know, I was having a wonderful night, finally out on the town, able to meet all my old friends again. Then I meet you, and you know what I think?"

He rested a hand on your shoulder. You fought a shiver.

"What a... great new friend?" You try. You go for a smile of your own. You're certain it looks more like a grimace.

A mocking laugh is his response. Then, with a sudden twist, his hands grasp your collar, bringing you to his eye level. The movement forces you against the ropes that constrict your stomach, suffocating you.

"I find... a sniveling little brat, that just so happens, TO HAVE A BAT PROTECTING-"

A screech cuts him off, a flurry of wings diving directly into his face, what you could barely make out as a beak aimed at his eyes. The pain you're under causes you to take a moment to understand what's going on, as Joker swings a crowbar at the flying figure.

It was... Hood. Pecking and clawing at the Joker, doing whatever it could to draw him away. And it was working too.

That is, until Joker pressed down on his flower, causing a spray of gas to surge outward directly into Hood's line of flight. It slowed it down, a pause as Hood squawked in pain. A pause that was swiftly taken advantage of, as Joker swung a brutal arc into Hood, the crowbar sending the bird flying across the room and into a crumpled pile on the ground.

"No!" The scream tore itself out of you, a primal sort of agony you never thought you would ever feel after you had withdrawn from thoughts of your soulmates. It was like losing him all over again. Vigilante or not, Hood was a bird. Birds didn't typically survive a hit from a crowbar. If Hood died here, what would you do? One of the connections that had tormented you all your life, over just like that.

The scream drew Joker's attention back to you, a realisation that sank deeply in your throat. He approached you again, an air of casualness across his figure.

"Birds, what little pests. Good thing I always carry around pest spray." He laughs, adjusting the flower resting on his lapel. "I've always preferred bats." A thunk noise sounded out as he spoke, drawing your attention to a small cage he dropped.

It was a birdcage. Inside that birdcage was...

"Batman?!"

The bat inside was still, its gaze fixed on Joker's movements, but it did shift briefly to watch you for but a second as you spoke its name.

"Hahaha!" Joker's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. "Turns out all you need to capture a bat is the right bait."

"How..?" You mumbled, the words unconsciously forming on your tongue due to the shock.

"Within a moment of my crowbar's acquaintance with your dear old head, Bats appeared! A bit of a nuisance at first, but a few threats at that neck of yours calmed him right down!" Joker admitted, the biggest smile you had seen yet on his face. He chuckled at the mere memory of it, as you shook in horror.

Two of your soulmates were now down. You couldn't stop shaking, horrified. All your options were dwindling and Joker looked more... murdery by the second.

Your attention was caught by a feeling of feathers brushing against your arms, the shaking making the thing touch you. You paused for a miniscule second, as you tried to think of what it was. Wait.

Was another one of your soulmates here? But rather than fight, this one was untying you? Or maybe gnawing at the ropes, whichever option was more plausible for a bird/bat.

Could you stall long enough to get out? It seemed like the only possibility left.

"Why...why do this? What enjoyment are you finding from this?" Maybe not the best line of questioning, but it was all your pounding head could come up with.

"Why?" Joker echoed, pausing for a moment. "Because I don't take kindly to cheaters. Me and Bats have something special. I dealt with my soul chain long ago, and yet! I find him cheating on me with this lousy excuse for a time waster!" He ends his shout pointing at you, a scowl on his painted face. It's possibly the worst expression you've seen on Joker yet.

"Aren't the other Robins his soulmates too? Why are you only targeting me?"

"I dealt with one of the flying rats long ago, quite a great plan if I may say so, but he just came back! I don't feel like wasting my time with this eternal game of wack-a-mole, so I've decided on a new method."

What's the method...?" You ask, reluctantly.

"You." He smiles.

He steps closer, withdrawing a gun from his pocket. "Thanks for the opportunity to capture Bats, my dear, but I've had enough of his chains getting in the way of our little game. I'll take much better care of little Batsy once you die, well, to an extent anyway! Hahaha!"

He tosses the gun up and down, carelessly as he walks towards you.

Up.

What could you do?

Down.

Hood was still crumpled in the corner, likely unconscious.

Up.

Batman was shaking the cage, unable to do anything else in its rage.

Down.

The unknown soul animal hadn't finished removing the ropes.

Across. The gun meets your temple, a few inches away from your head. You lock eyes with him. He pulls the trigger.

Pop! You flinch, coming face to face with a little Bang! flag that popped out of the gun.

You sigh, a momentary relief. You've been spared. You shift a little, feeling the ropes loosen. Your soul animal was doing its job well. You intake a few breaths, as Joker slaunters away from you, chuckling under his breath.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain yourself amidst all the pain.

BANG!

"Agh-!" You jolt, shooting straight up. There's a pain in your cheek, a metallic liquid dripping down.

Turning your head ever so slightly, you spy the Bang flag lodged into the wall. It was a real gun after all.

But..

Why didn't he shoot you?

"Guns are a little too dry, don't you think?" You turn back around, immediately coming face to face with the Joker, an image that makes you flinch.

There's a crowbar in his hands.

"I don't ever repeat jokes, but, my first attempt with this weapon didn't stick too long. I don't want to lower the bar of my comedy, but maybe it'll work this time? Second time's the charm!"

"It's actually the third time.." You speak, nerves causing your words to tumble out. So that's why he didn't shoot you. He intends to make your final moments as painful as possible.

He smiles in response to your quip, lifting the bar up.

"W-wait!" You cried out, desperation pooling into whatever would give you a chance at survival. "Couldn't you do anything else?! Brainwash me, use me as a hostage, isn't it just a waste if you kill me?!" You practically scream the final words, your panic reaching a crescendo of horror.

The Joker's reply is simple.

"Nope!"

He swings.

BANG!

A bullet flies through his hand, forcing him to drop the crowbar as he pulls back.

You both turn, spotting a bulky man in black at the entrance of the warehouse.

He's wearing a red helmet.

"Joker.." The voice is deep, a threatening timbre you'd only hear replicated in nightmares.

"Let. The civilian. Go.” His gun clicks.

“Urgh. Speak of the devil.” Joker complains, unphased. “My plans are being ruined and it's not even by Bats. What is the world coming to?”

“Wait…” The Joker pauses, noticing a fallacy in the vigilantes’ words. “Civilian? Oh, HAHAHA! OHHhhh you have no idea what’s going on here do you?” The Joker snickers in delight, giving you a conniving glance.

“Oh my, oh my. I didn't realise you were also a jokester.” Joker squishes your cheeks, a little too harsh to be anything but painful. He laughs again at the expression on your face.

There's no response from the figure, but the bullet that Joker barely dodges the next second later is answer enough. It grants you and the Joker some distances, so you're grateful.

A flapping of wings draws your attention, a dark blue blur sailing through the room before landing on your lap. Nightwing.

You blink in realisation, finally understanding why not all your soul animals had appeared to help you. Wing had led one of the bats to you. You glanced over. Judging from the helmet, was this Red Hood.

Uh oh. You hoped he didn't notice Hood in the corner.

Or Batman. Or the soul animal freeing you- oh no you were absolutely screwed weren’t you?

You gulp.

“Wait.. You?” Red Hood’s modulated voice didn’t convey any emotion, but it couldn't disguise the hesitance in which he spoke.

Exposed.

“Uhmmm… no?” You tried.

Wing nuzzled your cheek. Hood’s gaze intensified.

“Okay! Okay yes, but I swear there's a reason why I never came to any of you- it wasn't because of you-” Oh dear that one was a blatant lie.

“I.. I mean, I just didn't want-” What could you do, what could you say? You didn't want to lie, but the truth wasn't good either.

In-between your frantic ramblings however, the Joker had snuck up on Red Hood, taking a lucky swing that missed by about a centimeter.

Red Hood’s retaliation was swift, the two suddenly engaging in a battle of force that was very much leaning in Red Hood’s favour. Although, ever so often Red Hood gave a wince of pain. Did Hood’s soul animal form’s state injure him slightly?

That question would go unanswered, as the ropes around you crumpled, revealing Red to be the soul animal that had been bailing you out all this time.

Well. You weren't going to get a better opportunity than this. Pushing Red and Wing off your lap, you rush out, aiming for one of the broken windows.

Batman makes a slight growling noise as you pass his birdcage. You try not to think about it.

“Hey!” A batarang flies past you, the rope attached to it meeting no target as you trip on some broken glass.

“Ah!” You mumble, surprised at your good (?) forture. There's now a cut on your leg. Great.

Red Hood is subsequently distracted from any more attempts to detain you, as the Joker takes another swing that gets a little too close for comfort in response, laughing all the while.

Clumsily falling out of the window, you thank Lady Gotham that the Joker kidnapped you on the ground floor, so there’s no drop whatsoever.

You sigh, injuries now taking a toll as the constant adrenaline was wearing off. You stumble forward.

Red and Wing land on your shoulders. Of course.

You limp out into Gotham’s alleyways, oblivious to the movement of a lithe figure on the rooftop, watching you.

----

Yeah those who guessed Joker were correct! Enjoy a cookie if you did! It seemed criminal to not have a chapter that explored how a soulmate universe would influence Batman and Joker's relationship, so that's what I did!

Oh and yeah, poor Reader. They are not having too good of a time rn. All these injuries aren't really gonna help them plead their case either.

A bit more of Jason this time too! How funnnn. I definitely feel bad for birdy Hood though. Red Hood may be super skilled but it's a little too unrealistic for him to solo as a bird :(

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0 @jailbimbo @yandereheros @sxftiebee @i-have-three-feelings @toast-on-dandelioms @lyl-3 @sitepathos @pato-spoiler-27 @ghostdoodlen @phoenixgurl030 @problematicreblogger

@sociallyakwardpanda @imaginarydreams @zanzie @yuyuzi-ling @soriansick @f1lover4ever @kiikkey @elizzsush @raincxtter @luoyi85 @yune1337 @erikasurfer @thekingofsimps @chaosbeanuwu @snowy-violet @nommingonfood @yandere-enthusiast @nb-babygirl @demonqueen-1 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @winter67890-blog

Tumblr just told me I can't tag anyone else, so the list ends here. Hopefully I can tag the remaining people in a comment!

725 notes · View notes

yandere-romanticaa · 1 month

Text

A warm smile etched onto the pink haired foxian's face as he watched his beloved eat the meal he had prepared meticulously, his fingers still twitching lightly from the constant chopping and grinding of meat but his hard work had paid off in the end. Jiaoqiu was blessed to hear all the little noises that came out of your mouth, the satisfied hums and light little hiccups were like gospel to him, irreparable, satisfactory, necessary.

He reaches for his own utensils, still monitoring you carefully from the corner of his eye, never once letting the mask of a carefree gentleman slip off.

His beloved was the personification of every dark and sinful desire Jiaoqiu had ever had. The broken heart which he was still mending started to beat once more in the presence of his beloved, as if it finally found its long lost voice and sprung back to life.

The feeling, my, it was exhilarating. For ages now his one true desire was to cure anyone he ever could, to rid people of all of their pain and suffering, to hold their hand in their darkest hour of need and tell them in his sweet voice that all will be well and that he will heal them -

However, time was a cruel mistress. And Jiaoqiu, was all too familiar with its icy cruelty. It wasn't fair, just how much was he going to suffer? Even if he was not aware of it at times, Jiaoqiu was still just a person. One single person in this wast cosmos, a flickering flame of a soul which was threatening to give into the darkness like the weakling that he always was....

And then, he met someone. Someone who became precious to him, someone who allowed him to just... Breathe. To let loose, every once in a while. Someone who he just loved to be fussy about, a person so singlehandedly tailor made for him that it was practically too good to be true. He loved being by his beloved's side, watching over them, taking care of them. It felt good having someone all for yourself, someone who you didn't need to share with anyone -

Much like a house of cards, everything crashed down once he found out that he was getting ahead of himself. He had not made you his quite yet, even if in his mind there would be no other who could fill the empty black void in his heart.

A sharp thorn in Jiaoqiu's side was this absolute pest of a Cloud Knight, a person so singlehandedly determined to take you away from him, a knight so caught up in his own valor and glory that he had failed to notice all the subtle changes around him.

The devil was always in the details. No one ever paid attention to those little details. And Jiaoqiu, the cunning fox, could be a truly terrifying devil if he felt threatened.

Jiaoqiu watched you bite into the meat, the lightly pink centre catching his eye as his smile turned slightly wicked. His gaze lowered down towards the fresh juices which dripped from the meat and onto the pristine white plate, a happy smile on your face.

You inquired about the source of the divine meat for the entirety of the afternoon but Jiaoqiu would always give you non answers or simply dodge the question.

Jiaoqiu loved you. He loved you like no one before. He loved you so much that his heart would stop beating if you ever broke it. His love was deep, dark and wast like space itself.

And you had indeed formed a little crack on his bleeding heart. Not enough for him to do something truly drastic but... It was enough for him to be angry. Angry at the thought that you had allowed this knight into your personal space. You don't need that fool, you already have Jiaoqiu. There's absolutely no need for that frivolous little knight to even be breathing the same air as you, Jiaoqiu was more than capable of taking care of you all on his own.

He had made it his mission to steal back the air the knight had taken from you. At the back of his head, Jiaoqiu could still hear the sickeningly loud crunches of the endless pile of bones, the messy table which reeked of blood and putrid, his snow white hands tainted with the sticky crimson liquid as he hacked and chopped and cooked.

In the end, he was going to teach you a lesson, even if you were not aware of it. Please, be gentle with him. Do not break his heart anymore than it already is. Jiaoqiu is a sensitive and sweet man, he has no desire to be rough with the object of his affections. And yet, even he knows that a small dosage of tough love, as he likes to put it, was more than necessary from time to time.

687 notes · View notes

spookyrea · 3 months

Text

You Can Wrap Me 'Round Your Finger...

You’re having a crisis trying to pick the perfect moment to tell Loki you love him. Loki is having a crisis, too, except his is decidedly way more embarrassing. Also, your pillows keep disappearing.

(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences.)

a companion to Love at First Sight (or should I walk by again?) - can be read on its own!

Chapter 1 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here

Word count: ~5k

Warnings: fem reader; Loki is CLINGY

You could just make out the rosy hue of a late-season snowfall from your vantage point behind the cockpit; it blanketed the city, turning the streets a pale orange where streetlamp light reflected off of a crisp, white coat. For a city that never slept it was strangely quiet; at just past three o’clock in the morning, not even the snow plows were out yet.

Your team was returning from a four day long deployment to San Francisco – a retrieval mission where you were tasked with tracking down and seizing off-world cargo. It had gone over surprisingly well - zero casualties, a handful of actual combat incidents, and a scant few million dollars worth of petty property damage. It did require a proper cargo plane, though, which meant that the team had to rely on a local airplane hangar to get back home.

(Despite his truly unparalleled complaining, Tony’s choice to put the Avengers tower in the centre of a busy New York metropolitan block meant that there were certain restrictions - namely, the laws of physics - that limited the size of plane they could have on-site).

An unfortunate consequence of it all was that you were freezing. You made a face and folded your arms over your chest; you were dressed for a late February chill, in tac-pants and a knit sweater, not a snowstorm. As romantic as the snow looked, the cold was settling over you like an ache and, coupled with the early-hour and a tender bruise on your left side, your mood was only souring. You cast your eyes to the ceiling and prayed that a car was already waiting for you on the tarmac.

The quin-jet touched down a little roughly; you felt Wanda’s wince without looking at her, but Tony immediately came to her defense. “No, that was because of the snow. Poor visibility. Out of your control. Definitely. I’m passing you with flying colours - hey, get it?”

The loading ramp slid open with a pop and a hiss; your ears felt funny now that you were on solid ground, like they were full of cotton. Natasha tugged on her earlobes, then reached over and tugged on Steve’s too to be a pest. He swatted her away with a scowl.

Moments later, attendants began to climb the loading ramp in groups of two. You scowled. They were at least dressed for the weather.

You pulled your hands from between your thighs, trying to focus on anything other than the way your core muscles were tensed against the chill, and thanked whatever powers-that-be that you could finally go home. You were half way through unbuckling your seatbelt when an automated voice warned you from overhead not to leave your seats.

“Sorry, everyone,” Tony called. “Safety or whatever. All cargo has to be removed before we can get up. Just a few minutes. You’ll be warm and in bed in no time.”

You sank low in your seat, arms crossed, and focused very hard on glaring a hole in the quid-jet floor. Who knows -- maybe you could spontaneously develop heat-vision. It would look good on your resume.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to go collect you myself.”

Crossing the jet in long strides, tall enough to peer over most attendants' heads, was Loki. Your boyfriend.

Dressed in civilian clothing, Loki was something resplendent. His pale skin, warmed by the cool twilight haze outside, was a stark relief against his mop of riotous dark curls, and his green eyes caught the light in a mysterious way. A pair of neatly-polished shoes rattled the grated floor as he approached, weaving in between attendants, until he came to a stop at your side. With a wave of his hand, Loki manifested a fine wool cloak to drape over your shoulders. His long fingers drew the golden hook at the collar through its eye and smoothed it flat against your sternum.

“Can’t have you freezing to death,” he murmured.

You thumbed the stitching along the hem of the cloak; the thread was such a dark green that it almost blended in with the black fabric. “I would have been fine.”

“Well, if you’re too warm, I can certainly help cool you down.” Loki slid into the seat next to you and blew an icy breath across your neck, making you shriek. The grin he shot you was lecherous - truly vile , you mumbled - and sent a hot thrill from your nape to the pit of your belly.

“You are evil.”

“You should have me locked up.”

You pulled the collar of his cloak up to your face, pressing the velvety edge to your mouth. “I’m putting in a request immediately.”

Loki offered you his wrists, that sticky grin growing even wider. “Why wait?”

A flash of green seidr crackled suggestively, implying where a set of handcuffs might bind him. Your eyes snapped to the whirlwind of snow outside, cheeks hot.

Tony gagged obnoxiously from the pilot’s seat. The comms system crackled to life overhead. “Get a room, you two.”

Loki scoffed, mock affront dripping from his lazy posture, and poured himself over your shoulders, even though the armrest was in the way and was without a doubt digging into his side. He plucked your hand from your lap, lacing his fingers through yours and drawing it up to his mouth. His lips idly traced the edge of his signet ring on your thumb while you watched the cargo roll by, box by painstaking box.

You had only been dating for a few months, having finally confessed your mutual attraction after a tumultuous, alcohol-fueled evening together. It turned out that the entire time that you had been harbouring a monumental crush on Loki, he’d been just as gone on you - a fact you hadn’t known, since his idea of showing interest was to give you shiny rocks and hand feed you foods, and yours was whatever Tinder had going on.

Once the two of you had gotten over your - admittedly pretty embarrassing - communication barrier, you fell into a nice routine. You found that you were more confident without the weight of an unrequited crush looming over you, and Loki was eons more likely to finish his paperwork as long as you were there to play footsie with him under the table and let him ramble every fifteen minutes. He still flirted with everything that moved, but you recognized the nuances of his affection now. He never touched anyone, but he hung off of you like a limpet; he might smile and schmooze at parties, all lecherous grins and innuendo, but his eyes always sought your approval out after every punchline; and he only ever called you pet.

(And on one occasion, master. But that was a different story.)

Once the attendants had unloaded the last crate into a van, Tony gave everyone the OK to exit the plane without worrying about being trampled. Steve was the first out, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Natasha, Bruce and Tony were quick to follow, all stumbling into the first car they saw, while Wanda stayed and fiddled with a few switches from the co-pilot’s seat. Under Natasha’s suggestion, she was trying to get a proper license to fly - mostly for paperwork-related reasons, because the insurance company charged a fortune every time an Avenger ‘borrowed’ a vehicle without permission.

Before you could protest, Loki scooped up the duffle bag at your feet and started down the loading ramp into the storm, leaving you and Wanda as the last on the plane. You rapped your knuckles against the ceiling and sent her a questioning look. Decked out in her oversized headset and a fuzzy quarter-zip sweater Tony had commissioned for the team, she looked right at home behind the quinjet control panel. She shot you a thumbs up, gesturing for you to go on ahead. You blew her a quick kiss and then hurried after Loki, fighting to keep the cloak shut against the blustering wind.

Wet snow crept under your pant legs, clinging unpleasantly to the strip of skin left exposed by your socks. Loki had already packed your belongings away in the farthest van and was waiting by the back door, held open for you. You jogged - as best you could given the weather - the last couple of feet and slid into the backseat.

Loki hauled himself through the other door a moment later. The driver - a bored looking man with a dark beard and greying temples - pushed the stick shift into gear and turned off the runway.

You shivered, brushing clumps of snow off your ankles. Dark stains were climbing up your shins where the it bled through. Loki leaned across the seat to help you, running a shimmering hand over your shoulders to dry you off.

Mostly satisfied, you sank back and watched the city roll by, the empty streets cast in shades of neon as the snow reflected billboards and store displays. It was a beautiful sight, the kind of morning you would normally want to commit to memory for the postcard-ness of it all – except you were exhausted and a little cranky, so you turned your eyes to stare at your boyfriend instead.

(You made it a full three minutes without looking at him - a new personal record.)

You admired him the way an owner might creep up on a beloved pet in a sunbeam; you didn’t want him to know you were looking, in case he spooked and moved, so you kept your cheek turned and watched from the corner of your eye. He was deep in thought, luckily, which gave you some leeway to admire his profile. There was something decidedly boyish about him when he was relaxed, a softness you so rarely got to see; it made you want to kiss every inch of him just for the sake of kissing.

He drew an aimless pattern with his thumb across your upper thigh. His pinky finger was stretched comically far from the rest of his fingers, as if willing your hand to reach out and intertwine but too stubborn to ask. For a silly, love-sick moment you were overwhelmed by the need to tell him you loved him - and then your brain caught up with your heart and bludgeoned it into submission.

The knowledge that you were in love with him and the nebulous un-knowledge of how he felt about you was starting to wear on your nerves. You understood logically that he liked you - enough to court you, under different circumstances - but what you felt when you looked at him was a hurricane of emotions, a self-sustaining cycle of hot air up and cold air down, whipping the sea so hard that it formed storm clouds unbidden by the laws of nature. You knew that he felt things differently, had lived a dozen of your lifetimes no doubt filled with pretty things. Would this change your relationship? Would you breaking that last barrier make yourself less desirable somehow?

You wanted to tell him. To share the inherent joy of being in love.

It just scared you to death, was all. No big deal.

His mouth twitched; his eyes caught yours in the window’s reflection as the car entered the dark parking garage. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked. “Just tired. Sorry.”

The car dropped you off in the underground parking of the Avengers’ tower. Yours was the last of the convoy, so you and Loki slipped out of the car into an empty lot where only a few strangler attendants were unloading and taking inventory. You held one corner of the cloak in your hand, worried it would drag through the slush puddles tracked in by the cars. Loki’s hand came to rest on the small of your back while he hoisted your bag over his shoulder.

“After you, pet.”

You led him to the elevators, where you leaned against the railing and let your eyes slip shut. Loki selected a floor and then joined you, draping one arm around your shoulders to draw you into his chest.

You leaned your cheek against him. Now that you were home, the full weight of your exhaustion was bearing down on you. The pattern of knots Loki was drawing across the back of your neck wasn’t helping. You were suddenly grateful for the support of Loki’s body under you, solid and steady; you slid your hands under his jacket to hug him… then paused.

Something was… off.

You pulled back and gave him a once-over. Nothing outwardly betrayed him as different. He wore a pair of simple, straight-leg tac-pants and a white t-shirt under a brown vintage-style bomber he’d no doubt swiped from Bucky or Steve; the cut of each item flattered his narrow build exceedingly, a fact you knew he was aware of by the way he kept glancing at you during your drive home. His hair was wild and unstyled in a hopelessly endearing way - a look he’d taken to wearing often after you made a passing comment about liking it that way.

The jacket though…

He filled it out well. Too well.

“You’re bigger,” you blurted out.

Loki raised one eyebrow in a perfect, mocking arch. “Excuse me?”

“You’re,” you waved your hand up and down his body, “bigger. Like, broader. Have you been working out more?”

Loki glanced down at his chest. “No?”

You pushed the jacket off his shoulders to get a better look at him. The white cotton of his t-shirt puckered across his chest, wrinkling under the strain of an extra inch or so of muscle, and the side seams were pulled so taut that you could see the thread. You poked him right over his heart, admiring a new, plush firmness.

The tips of Loki’s fingers wormed under your shirt. His smile took on a wicked edge as he soaked in the sight of you in front of him. When you shot him a look, he screwed his face up into something resembling innocence. “If you’re going to ogle me like a piece of meat, I think it’s only fair that I get to admire you, too.”

You hummed and slipped his jacket back into place, smoothing your palms down his chest to rest just above his waistband. Loki’s evilness washed away to something sticky sweet; he slid his hand up between your shoulder blades, his fingers splayed wide to admire the shift of your muscles under your skin. His other hand twined with yours to lift your knuckles to his mouth.

The doors slid open on his floor. With a flourish and a fleeting kiss, Loki stooped to collect your bag. His free hand trailed behind him, outstretched for you to take, but you lingered with a smile and a shake of your head.

He came to an abrupt stop under the threshold, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He wiggled his fingers, as if you were refusing because you’d missed his offer to hold your hand. “What are you doing?”

You pressed the button for your floor. “I’m going back to my room.”

“No,” Loki whined, his hand still outstretched. “Please, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and attempted to pull your bag from his hands. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Loki.”

“But you’ll miss out on my new, broader body. Your bed will seem extra empty now in comparison. You should just skip the trouble.”

“Loki, I’m tired. And all my stuff is in my apartment.”

“You can wear something of mine.” Loki, exasperated, threw your duffle down in front of the elevator door and cornered you against the railing.

“Just for the night, Loki.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, one he didn’t return… and then seemed to regret, because only a heartbeat after you pulled away he was on you, cupping your face between both his hands and swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You huffed out a sigh and pushed on his stomach; he managed to get two more kisses in before you finally won and put some distance between the two of you.

In a perfectly Loki-fashion, Loki sulked. He stomped out of the elevator and then turned to you, his hands firmly on his hips. “You vex me. Understand that I will be taking you out for breakfast tomorrow, no exceptions.”

You hooked a finger through your bag strap, dragging it back into the elevator. “Make it a late lunch. If you wake me before noon there will be punishments.”

Loki’s eyes twitched with the briefest hint of a smirk. His voice dropped an octave. “Promise?”

The elevator doors slid shut on his leering expression. You spent the rest of the ride valiantly trying not to fall asleep. The low hum of its engine was terribly soothing.

When the elevator opened to your floor, you weren’t surprised to find PAL - Tony’s Paperwork Assistant Lite robot, who usually helped organize and retrieve files in the office downstairs - waiting by your door. Measuring just under two feet tall, PAL could navigate the halls and elevator just fine as long as FRIDAY was willing to unlock the doors for him, but your manual lock-and-key front door was an insurmountable obstacle for him.

“How long have you been here, buddy?”

As soon as he recognized you, PAL trilled with delight. His metal chassis vibrated with the effort of waiting by the door. He rounded your feet while you dug through your pants pockets for your keys, narrating the week to you in his language of whistles and beeps, and raised his tiny paper tray, straining to try and take over the weight of your duffle bag. You huffed out a laugh, leaning ever-so-slightly to the side to set it on him but not to smother; the LED display on his face narrowed, as if he was concentrating very hard on not dropping your belongings.

As soon as you were through the door, you threw your bag by your shoe rack and toed off your sneakers, leaving them in a pile on the floor. PAL set to straightening them, sweeping them to the wall with his tray ahead like a snowplow. He tried to do the same to your bag, but his treads could only pinwheel against the weight.

You stood in the living room for a moment and folded Loki’s cloak over the back of your couch, contemplating skipping your whole routine and going straight to bed. You settled on missing a shower but washing your face - everything else could be dealt with in the morning. You made your way to your bedroom in search of clean pyjamas, then continued to the bathroom to brush your teeth, PAL close on your heels.

You had just exited the bathroom when someone knocked on your door. You tossed your washcloth into a bin on top of your washing machine and rounded the hallway to answer it.

Loki stood on the other side, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized AVENGERS TACTICAL UNIT t-shirt. “Please, darling.”

“You have your own bed.”

“It’s too big without you.”

“You’re even bigger now. You’ll fill it out just fine.”

Loki stepped into your personal space; he hadn’t even bothered putting on shoes, wearing only a pair of grey wool socks. His hands curled around your hips as if to steady himself. “I’m afraid of the dark?”

“Try again.”

“My room was taken over by starving wolves while you were away and I only narrowly escaped.”

You sighed. You had to admit that it felt nice to have him in your arms like this, even if you knew giving in would only encourage him to lord over more of your time. “Absolutely no funny business, Loki.”

An incandescent grin split his face in two. He swooped in to kiss your cheek, then sauntered off toward your bedroom. You locked the door, made sure PAL was settled into his charging dock for the night, and then followed after your boyfriend.

You found him curled up on the side of your bed closest to the door, facing you, and holding one of your pillows hostage. He buried his nose in the fabric, a pleased sound rumbling through his chest, and watched you approach.

You swatted at him, not even bothering to round the bed, opting to crawl over his body to reach your side. Loki unfolded, abandoning the pillow to gather you up instead; his arms circled your waist and tugged you into his chest in an awkward collision of limbs, legs tangling in the comforter. You squirmed while he maneuvered you to his liking, tucking the length of his body around you tightly and nosing at the junction of your throat and jaw.

“Loki,” you chided. “I said no funny business.”

“This is a perfectly serious matter.” Loki untangled himself from you just long enough to pull the comforter over your body before sliding in beside you. One hand returned to your neck, tipping your chin back so he could press a loud kiss to your pulse point. “You don’t have enough blankets.

You stifled a yawn and pushed him to lie on his back, draping one leg over his. “Why’s that?”

Loki continued to rearrange the sheets with a scowl. “You’ll freeze to death under this thing.”

Already, your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. You hummed. “I feel like I had more pillows than this. Maybe I’ve finally lost it.”

A small voice in the back of your mind whispered that you loved him, you loved him, you loved-

You settled with tracing a heart over his collarbone, over and over until you fell asleep.

You woke to the sound of FRIDAY’s voice through the PA system. “Mr. Laufeyson, your presence is being requested on the thirty-first floor. Mission briefing in fifteen minutes.”

You peeled your eyes open. You could tell by the slant of the sun through the curtains that it was past noon - a small victory, really. Behind you, Loki burrowed deeper into the fabric of your t-shirt, nosing along the ladder of your spine while groaning his displeasure. He drew the comforter around you tightly, trapping you under one muscular arm with a vengeance.

His voice, still deep and rasping with the last threads of sleep, rumbled through his chest. “Good morning, dear heart.”

Lovesickness bloomed like a bruise in your chest. “Morning,” you said, instead of I love you.

You half-turned and pecked the side of his mouth before sitting up. Loki made an affronted sound and reeled you back in by a fistful of your t-shirt, sending you sprawling halfway across his chest. He kissed you soundly, licking into your mouth with a low groan.

You blinked up at him once he pulled back. “Um. Good morning?”

“I was a perfect gentleman all night and you reward me with a peck. ” A scowl twisted his pretty face, petulance dripping off him in droves. His hands slid over your ass possessively, kneading the soft flesh with purpose. “I should have you flogged for that. Put over my knee.”

“Patience is a virtue,” you mumbled.

“Wrong faith, pet. Now- wait, where are you going?”

You paused, halfway through peeling yourself out of his arms (again), and pointed at the ceiling where FRIDAY’s voice reminded him that he was needed in thirteen minutes, Mr. Laufeyson . ”You have a debrief and I have a date with my coffee pot.”

“Not after you so callously rejected me. Come down here and make it up to me.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss him again, slowly but deeply. Loki chased your mouth when you pulled away, frustration evident in the heavy way he sighed. Lifting you by the hips, Loki deposited you in his lap and held you there, digging his thumbs into the plush of your sides. Using the resulting sigh to his advantage, Loki cradled the back of your head and bullied your lips apart, pulling a sticky kind of want from your chest, leaving you dizzy and aching all at once.

When FRIDAY gave him a five minute warning, blinking the emergency strobe in the corner of your bedroom for good measure, Loki finally drew himself away and let you catch your breath. His head tipped back against the pillow, his throat on display in a long submissive line, and his shiny mouth parted in a groan. He mumbled something in his mother tongue, your name nestled right between lilting consonants.

“What was that?”

“Nothing important.”

“One day you’ll teach me what you’re saying,” you grumbled. “And then I’ll know all your secrets.”

Loki lazily arched one brow, smothered behind a curtain of riotous curls. “Is that so? All of them?”

“Mhm. All of it. Every last one.”

You traced a finger down the line of his nose. If ever there was a moment to tell him you loved him, now was probably it. Here, on the laziest of saccharine mornings, while the city outside was muted by a thick wall of snow and you were both ignoring responsibility to enjoy the other. And yet– doubt wove its way through your ribs, tying knots in the hollow spaces in your chest; you rolled off of him and sat up, pulling the hem of your shirt down where it had ridden up. “FRIDAY is going to bring the appliances to life if you don’t leave soon.”

Loki poised himself on the edge of your bed and snagged your wrist when you rounded it. There was nothing to the gesture – no comment, no complaint to make. He held onto you for the simple joy of owning a second of your time.

As if one cue, PAL rolled through your bedroom door, his little paper tray aloft. He chirped in greeting, then ran head-long into one of the bed frame’s legs.

You tamped down a lingering disappointment. Later. You would tell him later.

“Pest.” Loki swatted at PAL, who had taken to repeatedly bumping into Loki’s shins to convince him to get dressed. You gasped scoldingly when Loki shot a warning green spark in the robot’s direction; PAL, undeterred, narrowed the LED display on his face and wound up, knocking the god extra hard for good measure.

“PAL, go sit in the living room. You can pick something on Netflix for us to watch. And you,” you pointed a finger at Loki. “No threatening the robot.”

You left him to dig through your closet for something to wear; the far corner was steadily developing a growth of black, Loki-sized clothing. While you busied yourself with the coffee machine, PAL chirped at the TV and then parked himself in front of your window with his face pressed against the glass. Once your coffee was poured, you left out the gaudiest mug you owned – chipped, declaring you were Thor’s Number One Fan!, which Loki hated with a burning passion – and a spoon for when he joined you.

PAL beeped distractedly when you joined him by the window; there was a tender tilt to his little head as he gazed out, studying a pair of birds who had built their nest just below. His body shuddered, as if sighing, and his LED display blinked one long, slow blink.

It started as a tiny bundle of twigs a few weeks ago, trembling in the wind but shielded from the elements in the nook between a metal support beam and the windowsill. Then a few pieces of long grass were woven in, and a handful of fresh green branches, still flexible in their newness. They must have finished their home while you were away; two mates were deep under the spell of a snowy Sunday morning, bundled up under a layer of down and straw.

A solid pair of arms wound around your waist, drawing you backwards into an equally solid chest. Loki’s hair was damp where he’d run wet fingers through it, no doubt trying to contain the curling mess of bed head he woke up with every morning. It clung to your cheek a bit, the crown of his head pressed up to your face while he nosed at your shoulder. “Oh, hi– hello.”

“I don’t want to go,” Loki whined. He rocked you gently from side to side, resting his cheek against yours. “We should feign illness. It’s dreadfully contagious. And then we can—” a kiss, just under your ear, “stay in bed all day. To recuperate, of course.”

“As lovely as that sounds, you really do have to go. You know how Steve gets when you’re late.”

“As soon as I can I’m coming right back up here to ravish you. That’s a promise.”

PAL cooed, excited by some small movement from the birds. One of them had woken to preen the other, sweetly running its beak through its feathers.

“Look at their little nest. How cozy,” you said quietly. “Maybe that’s where my pillows went.”

The longer Loki considered the birds, the deeper the furrow between his brows grew. He seemed to be having a revelation of some kind. “I… have to speak with my brother about something.”

“Something wrong?”

“No. Just a thought. Don’t worry.”

PAL rolled backwards into Loki’s shins with purpose. He chirped sternly, as if chiding Loki in his machine-speak, who, in return, toed PAL’s chassis very gently in warning.

You laughed. “He’s coming, buddy.”

“Actually,” Loki muttered darkly. “On the contrary. My problem is that I’m not-”. You suspected the next words out of his mouth would have been incredibly inappropriate, had PAL not rolled pointedly over Loki’s foot.

You exited the elevator on the 31st floor a few hours later. A far cry from Tony’s party, the room was empty and mostly tucked away; chairs were stacked on tables and the bar was cleared of bottles; bright, unfiltered sunlight poured through the enormous lofted windows, allowing you an unobstructed view of the skyline and the meandering streets below. A couple of interns were having lunch on one of the couches in the corner. They must have been part of the newest wave of college recruits, because their eyes lingered in a starstruck kind of way that made you feel a little embarrassed.

You shot them a playful salute. Both startled, turning away in a rush.

Oh well. You couldn’t look Steve in the eyes for your first week on the team– you got it.

You found Loki in the farthest conference room, sat at the end of a long, round table between Steve and Bucky. You watched their fingers walk across its surface, handing a piece of folded paper between the three of them. Steve wrote something while the speaker was turned, then slipped his hand surreptitiously under the desk. Bucky coughed; from your vantage point, you saw his and Loki’s fingers unravel the note so they could read it discreetly.

Some executive droned at the other end, gesturing to a dreadfully laid out powerpoint. Matching manilla folders were spread open in front of the agents; you had a sneaking suspicion that whatever the speaker was saying was also written down and could have been read in half the time this meeting took.

You tried to catch Loki’s eye through the window but his attention was aimless, lost in some faraway place. A thought came to you; you rearranged your belongings to clasp your hands in front of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed - albeit poorly - to the god sitting a few dozen feet from you.

You peeked through one eye to see if it had worked; through the glass, Loki shot you a private smile, so sweet that it was practically a kiss. You waved him over, jerking your head toward the conference room door.

You watched him interrupt the speaker, his lazy posture rolling forward until he was sitting straight. Steve and Bucky nodded sagely, immediately following whatever story Loki had spun. Bucky pointed exaggeratedly to his metal arm, rubbing it as if it was tense.

The door opened and Loki slipped out into the hallway to meet you. Your grin bordered on becoming painful. Both your hands were folded behind your back. “You didn’t have breakfast this morning.”

“Observant.” He plucked a loose thread from the collar of your shirt and flicked it aside before leaning in for a quick kiss. You decided, even if you couldn’t say you love him, to treat him no less lovingly; you chased him when he pulled away, pressing your lips to his jaw. His grin was dazed, like you’d turned him dumb with the simple act of wanting him. “You’re even lovelier than the last time I saw you.

“I brought you something. Pick a hand.”

Loki walked his fingers down your left arm and pulled; you let him have it, your palm open – and empty. “Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Hmm. Terrible luck.” His knuckles dragged down the length of your other arm. In that hand was a take-out container from your favourite coffee shop, defaced with a smiley-face and cute message from the barista, Yvonne. It was his usual order, nothing special, but when his eyes tipped up to meet yours, there was something uncharacteristically open about his expression, a shy edge to the tilt of his smile. He leaned in and kissed you, soft and sweet like honey. “Do you think they’ll notice if I’m gone much longer?”

“Absolutely.”

Loki groaned, tipping your hips until they were flush to his. He kissed you hard enough to bend you backwards.

“I’ll come by your apartment tonight and we can get dinner?”

His fingers stilled where they were kneading your sides. “Yes, about that. Let’s… Let’s stay at yours tonight. The wolves that chased me out last night haven’t been evicted yet.”

Loki's answer confused you – he’d spent the entire night complaining that you wouldn’t go back to his room, then insulting your blanket choices, and now he wanted to stay at yours? “Ok. That works. Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he said quickly. “Perfectly fine. You’re so tired though. Easier to stay where your belongings are. I won’t– won’t make you commute.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Behave today.”

Another groan, this one pitched low; Loki traced your cheek with his nose. “I love it when you order me around.”

“Loki! Be-have.”

“Just one more, nymph. To tide me over.”

You sent him off with three more kisses. You were starting to wonder if you were too lenient with him; he delighted in taking advantage of your weakness to weasel more affection out of you. He returned to the conference room with his little box, opened in his lap under the table. When Bucky made to swipe a grape, Loki flicked his hand away with a glare.

When you returned to your room that evening, with Loki hot on your heels and his hands already halfway up your shirt, you were baffled to find your bed down one more pillow.

“PAL, did you do this?”

He shook his little head, LED screen blinking wide doe eyes up at you. It was the strangest thing, but when he thought you weren’t looking, you could have sworn that he shot Loki a pointed look.

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki smut #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki x female reader #no header we die like men (I don't want to dig through pinterest)#another one dredged up from my WIP folder after going. oh hey is this one finished??

573 notes · View notes

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 5 months

Text

A Father’s Love?

Sam Winchester & daughter!reader, Dean Winchester & niece!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You (9-10) are left alone with your dad, who currently is missing his soul, and it doesn’t go well

Update: part 2 is here

“Uncle De, please don’t go.” Your voice was low as you tried to keep your dad—who was in the bathroom—from hearing. “I-I don’t wanna be alone with him.”

Dean felt awful for leaving you like this, but he had no choice. You hadn’t been comfortable with Sam since the moment you’d found out he was back—the same time Dean did. You’d been living with Dean, Lisa, and Ben, and when Sam revealed that he’d been back all along, you instantly didn’t trust him. Dean had been angry, sure, but somehow he just hadn’t seen what you had—that your dad wasn’t really himself.

Of course, eventually the three of you—including Sam, who hadn’t been sure what was wrong with him—discovered the truth: he was soulless. As soon as Dean find out, he felt horrible for not understanding your hesitance before. Now that he knew, he tried to avoid leaving you alone with Sam whenever possible, especially since he didn’t really trust Sam without a soul.

But sometimes it was unavoidable.

“Kiddo, you know I don’t have a choice,” Dean said.

“I don’t like it here with him,” you insisted, refusing to let go of Dean’s sleeve. “He-he’s like daddy’s evil twin or something.”

Dean swallowed. “Sweetheart, he’s not evil, ok? He’s just a little weird right now.”

“Daddy’s weird,” you argued. “This guy is bad.”

Dean ran a hand over his face.

“Baby, please. You know I have to go. He’s gonna be good, I promise, and soon enough he’s gonna be back to regular-old dad, I swear.”

Dean left without another word, and the silence that hung in the motel room was deafening.

“Dean left?” Sam asked as he exited the bathroom. You ignored his question—he didn’t actually care, after all—and you went to sit on your bed. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you as you went. The motel stayed the worst kind of silence as you pretended to read while Sam just stared at you.

“What do you want?” You demanded finally, dropping the book. Your voice was nowhere near as firm as you wanted it to be.

“You hate me.” It wasn’t a question.

“You hated me first.” Unlike Sam, you couldn’t look at him while you accused him. Even without looking at the shell that used to be your dad, you could feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes as you waited for him to speak.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffed. “I mean, I don’t particularly care about you, but I don’t hate you.”

Somehow, apathy was even worse.

“Just leave me alone,” you mumbled. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Sam shrugged and obeyed. You felt your eyes drifting to him as he pulled a beer from the fridge and took it to his bed. His eyes caught yours and he frowned.

“What? You said leave you alone.”

“Dad wouldn’t have listened,” you mumbled, but Sam heard you anyway.

“Well, I’m not your dad,” Sam shrugged. “I’m not Sam, not anymore.”

“Ok.” You turned to face away from him. “Now I mean it. Leave me be.”

But Sam was suddenly intrigued, and he ignored your request.

“You and Dean wanted me to stop pretending to be him. This is just me not pretending.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like you,” you said, your eyes downcast.

“Exactly, and I don’t like you either. I mean, you’re kind of a brat.”

“I told you to leave me alone,” you said, finally looking up.

“You beg Dean to keep you with him all the time like I’m gonna hurt you or something, it’s pathetic.” Sam seemed to be getting a real kick out of finally saying all that he’d been thinking over the past few weeks.

“I said leave me alone!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t listen.

“I mean, I remember caring about you when I was that other guy, I just…I just can’t remember why.”

“Go away! Leave me be!” You were on your feet now, shoving and pushing at Sam, but the giant man didn’t even flinch.

“I mean your just a little pest!”

“Stop it! Just go away!”

Crying, overwhelmed, and so unbelievably hurt, you started to slap at the guy who used to be your dad, smacking his neck, his face, whatever you could reach. Suddenly, Sam wasn’t having so much fun anymore.

“Hey!” Though your slaps had little effect on him, one harsh blow from Sam had you flat on your back, dazed and breathing hard. You could still feel the impact of his palm against your cheek, and you couldn’t scramble away from him fast enough.

“If you’re gonna give it out, you should be prepared to take it,” Sam muttered gruffly.

You were on your feet in an instant, and you were out the door before you’d even made the decision to leave.

“Hey!” You could hear your dad—no, not your dad—following after you, and you barely made it five steps out of the room before his arms were around you and dragging you back in.

“Stop it!” You were crying now, and you couldn’t remember when you’d started. “Let me go!”

“If I lose you, Dean’s never gonna help me,” Sam grunted, shoving you back into the room and closing the door behind him. “So how about we all just calm down here.” It wasn’t a request; it was a command. “You don’t hit me, I won’t hit you.”

That would’ve sounded reasonable enough, if not for one thing—your desperate smacks to his skin had done nothing to him, they hadn’t even hurt, but you could already feel the side of your face swelling where he’d hit you. But you didn’t argue with Sam. You didn’t even speak. You just sat on your bed and turned your back on him, pulling your legs up to your chest and burying your face in your knees so you could cry in peace.

Sam left you alone for several minutes, but his sudden hand on your shoulder had you flinching back violently and scrambling away from him.

“Would you calm down?” Sam huffed as he let go. He was holding out a frozen bag of peas. “Put this on it.”

You took it hesitantly and slowly pressed the cold bag to your face.

“Look…” Sam’s hand was back on your shoulder, only now his giant fingers were right at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and they were squeezing way too hard. “Dean would kill me if he figured out what happened, ok? And he certainly wouldn’t be helping me anymore. So maybe…maybe you just tell him you fell in the shower or something, ok?” He said it like a question, but the grip on your shoulder and the ice in his eyes told the truth; he expected you to lie to Uncle Dean, and you didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t.

“Ok,” you whispered, and his hand was gone in an instant.

“Ok,” he said firmly.

Then he turned his back on you and left you alone to cry.

…

The swelling was down by the time Dean returned, but you’d looked in the mirror long enough to see a black and purple bruise forming along almost one whole side of your face.

You resisted the urge to run to your uncle the moment he stepped in the door—if you acted scared, he would figure it out, and Sam would be mad. Instead, you stayed where you were with your head down, your hair covering most of the bruise.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. “You guys ok?”

“We’re fine,” Sam said simply. You’d been hoping that he would lie for you, so you didn’t have to, but he seemed content to leave things quiet.

“You sure?” Dean was watching you now, noticing your uncharacteristic silence.

“I’m ok,” your voice was hoarse from crying, and Dean wasn’t fooled.

“What’s wrong?” Dean was in front of you in an instant, brushing your hair behind your ears. His hand recoiled when he saw the bruise. “What happened?”

“I—“ you looked up to face Dean, and your voice caught in your throat when you saw Sam staring daggers at you from behind your uncle’s shoulder. “I f-fell.”

“Fell?” Dean frowned.

You nodded. “In-in the shower.”

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Out. Now.”

“Me?” When had Sam become such a good actor? He looked as innocent as ever. “What did I do?”

Despite his acting, Dean wasn’t buying it for a minute.

“Get out! I need to talk to her alone.”

The moment Sam was out the door, Dean was tilting your chin up with a feather-light hand at your chin.

“He hit you, didn’t he.” Dean wasn’t asking.

“I fell,” you lied, the tears in your eyes giving you away.

“Don’t lie for him,” Dean pleaded. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t kick him out,” you pleaded. “We-we have to help him get his soul back. This isn’t him, Uncle Dean.”

“I know it’s not,” Dean sighed. “But I need you to be safe.”

“I’ll be safe when my dad is back.”

…

“You stay away from her.” Dean didn’t give Sam a chance to speak when he let him back into the room.

“Fine.” Sam was done lying—it hadn’t done any good.

“And if you ever touch her again, you’re gone, understand?”

Sam didn’t look happy, but he couldn’t argue.

“I understand.”

…

You slept in Dean’s bed that night—you hadn’t shared a bed with your father since he came back soulless—and Sam went out to do whatever it was that he did while you guys slept. Apparently being soulless meant you didn’t sleep.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked. “And don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore,” you mumbled. “I just…I just miss him.”

Dens pulled you into his arms as you started to cry.

“I know, sweetheart. I miss him too. We’re gonna get him back, ok? I promise.”

“Ok Uncle Dean.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

641 notes · View notes

novemberheart · 2 months

Text

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

{overview} You need someplace to stay- and fast. Luckily your aunt Kate knows the perfect place for you. Only problem is you’ll have four other roommates, who are all dating each other?

{warnings} polyamory/poly141 x fem reader, chapter story, inaccuracies all around, cursing, future smut and suggestive language, reader is inexperienced when it comes to relationships but age is not specified, appearance of reader not specified, some slow burns, some quick burns, angst, drama

“John, when you have a moment I’d like to speak to you,” Laswell requested, sticking her head into the Captain's office. A few playful gasps and ‘what’d you do now’ spread through his office. With a groan he pulled his heavy body to its feet, the weight of the world on his shoulders. His gaze quickly caught Simon’s who gave him a knowing stare. John followed Laswell to her office- which was conveniently situated across from his. “I have a favor.” She continued, plopping a pile of folders onto her already crowded desk.

Cue another grown.

“We just got back, Kate. The boys have hardly slept. Kyle has lost about ten pounds. Simon is still getting over a knife to the shoulder”-

“Calm down mother hen.” Laswell interrupted. John tsked, but realized his own antics were bordering on the tease. “You don’t have to do anything.” She paused for a moment. “Well, you almost have to do nothing.”

The Captain raised his eyebrow.

“I have a niece who needs a place to stay. You still have that empty bedroom right?”

His first instinct is to lie. The last thing he and the boys needed was an interloper- a pest in their home. They spend so much time hiding that the thought of doing it in their home, a place that is decorated so thoroughly with each of them sounds almost torturous.

“Please don’t lie, John,” Kate spoke up. “She a good girl. She’s trying to move up in her job but it’s taking some time. The only places she can afford are in rough neighborhoods and quite frankly I’m worried for her. So is her mother because she calls me about twice a day to check on her.” An airy laugh left Kate, which she quickly shook off. “I go back to the States in two weeks and I would really like to have her set up and safe before I leave. It’s only temporary- two months at the most till she can get a down payment on an apartment.”

“I don’t know how the boy’ll feel about it.” Price finally spoke. Kate nodded her head in understanding.

“She’s a modern woman if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kate said slowly.

“How about we meet her first? Give us a few days to adjust being back home, then maybe we can go out for lunch or something. If the boys’ll agree on it.” John offered. Kate sighed, hoping this meeting would’ve resulted in a bit more of a clear outcome. Nevertheless, she nodded her head, as quiet agreement escaped her lips.

“Deal.”

“Anything important?” Simon hummed as the Captain stepped back through the door.

“Yes actually and it involves all of us.” At this, the boys quickly tossed the things they were working on, onto the coffee table. John cleared his throat, taking a seat next to Simon. It was a small noise- one that John wasn’t even aware he had made, yet it caused each of their backs to straighten at the underlying authority present in the small act. “Kate was hoping her niece could stay with us for a while, two months at the most, while she looks for a place to live.” John looked around the room, trying to get a grasp as to what they were thinking. ‘Unreadable’ was the first thing that came to mind. Suddenly Johnnys' lips curled up into a smirk.

“You have a picture?” The Scotsman questioned.

“No, mate.” Kyle scolded, before the rest could roll their eyes. “Not everyone was put on this earth to be eye candy for ya.’”

“You were.” Johnny shot back without missing a beat. Kyle nearly smiled but pulled his lips into a tight line, his knee nudging Johnny.

“Why does she need to leave?” Kyle asked. Always the voice of reason.

“Safety reasons. Lives in a bad area.” John explained. That softened them. “I suggested we meet her first, she’ll probably put her best foot forward- but we should be able to tell if she’d be a good fit or not.”

“I think we should just give ‘er the keys.” Johnny piqued up again.

“Oh really.” Simon muttered from across the coffee table.

“Yeah. I mean we risk our lives for strangers everyday out there. At least with this, we could help someone out without having to do much.”

“You just want a date Mactavish.” Kyle sighed from next to him, sliding down in his seat. The corner of John’s eyes lifted in a slight smile before he stood up and returned to his desk.

“I’ll have Laswell send her our address, so we can meet her.”

“So it is a date.” Johnny chirped.

If it wasn’t for the checkpoint to get in you wouldn’t have known it was military housing. Kate drove you both in. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel feeding off of your own nerves. Never ending rows of brick houses lined both sides of the street. There were lots of trees- which you were happy about. The houses varied in size from small townhouses to big houses with fenced-in backyards. One street even led down to a nice apartment building.

“I’ve driven past here before and never knew all these houses were back here.” You broke the silence.

“The trees hide them well- and the fog.” She smiled, not taking her eyes off the street. Each house was decorated with various flags out front- most of them being a Union Jack. She finally turned down a street, one that seemed narrower than the others. There were no houses across the street, just a large green field. A family and their dog playing in the neatly trimmed grass. The trees surrounding the area made the air fresh and your lungs felt lighter with every deep breath. Even though it wasn’t raining your nose could imagine the smell of wet earth. You shut the car door.

“There’s a nice walking path down that way.” Kate nodded her head towards the tree line. You followed her up onto the sidewalk, wondering which house she was going to head towards. It was the third one from the end. It looked like all the others but something set it apart. The outside of the house was spotless, like each brick had been hand scrubbed. The bushes and trees were neatly trimmed and there were even some potted plants you could see from on the porch.

You inspected each car in the driveway. Two trucks, one a shiny black, so large you could see it no matter where you stood. The second truck looked more like a fixer upper. It was older, painted a nice brown and beige- well loved. Behind the black truck was a just as sleek, black, shiny muscle car, that you’re sure the neighbors love hearing in the early mornings. Next to it was a banged-up, red, 4-runner geared up like it was ready to take off into the mountains at the drop of a hat.

You wondered how reflective each car was of each man.

Kate rang the doorbell. “Don’t worry.” She whispered to you over her shoulder. You were in fact worried. Very worried. It felt like all of your job interviews and presentations rolled into one. Your heartbeat only had the chance to beat 15 times before the door opened. Your insides shriveled as one of your worst fears came to light.

He was handsome- very handsome. Boarding on pretty.

“Kyle.” Laswell greeted, at which his lips perked up into a smile.

“Calling you Kate feels too informal.” He admitted. He opened the door further standing to the side to allow you both the enter. You had yet to move from your hiding spot behind Kate.

“Then don’t.” She chuckled. His head dodged around Kate to finally get a glimpse of you. His smile faltered slightly, but he quickly whipped it back on.

Your brain kicked into gear and you extended your hand with a soft introduction.

“Nice to meet you, love.” He smiled warmly taking your hand into his. He was warm and his hand held no paranoid shakes like yours.

You followed Kate into the entryway. It was plain, with an expensive-looking wooden dresser with a bowl filled with various keys and random bolts. ‘Junk bowl’ you thought mindlessly. Boots and shoes were lined neatly against the wall, making sure to avoid the rug leading into the living area. Kyle closed the door behind you.

Your eyes racked up and down his form. You knew he would be fit for his line of work, but you didn’t picture someone so carefully carved out of marble.

“Do I need to take off my shoes?” You questioned.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. We usually just keep our work boots here.” He explained. He extended his arm forward, silently guiding you further into the house. Just through the entryway was another hallway and the stairs, but Kate led you to the left into the living area.

The house was beautiful. It was a mismatch of styles but they all somehow charmingly complimented each other. The furniture was rustic. Brown leather couches, chairs, and everything from the TV stand to the coffee table was constructed from wood. The decor was more modern- but not in a cold grey and white way. There were lots of dark greens and blues. Plants were scattered around the home, making the air inside just as fresh as outside. Various pictures hung up on the wall all sketched from charcoal. You weren’t close enough to see what they were about.

“It’s beautiful.” You whispered over your shoulder. It was a home. It’s been a long time since you’ve got to experience one.

“Thanks. Cap’ is picky about where he sits so he picks out all the sitting furniture. Simon woodworks in his free time so he built almost everything you see here. ‘Tavish is the artist.” He explained, his tender gaze following yours as he took in his own home. He could feel his chest swell.

“You must be the green thumb?” You hummed. The quirk on his lips remained as he nodded his head.

“And the one who makes everything look nice.” He muttered, sending a small wink your way. “Just through the arch is the kitchen.” Kyle continued, taking the lead away from Kate. When you spoke to Kate it sounded as though this was just a meeting. Yet the way Kyle spoke and smiled at you made you feel as though you had already been voted in.

The kitchen was nice. Dark oak cabinets pushed up against the wall with light granite countertops. There was a small island with just enough room for two stools and a sink. It was clean- like the rest of the house. Everything had a place, even the fruit bowl on the counter and the tea kettle on the stovetop. Kyle turned to the right.

“And just across the hall we have the dinning room.” He lit up a bit as he crossed the hall into the room. Two men were sitting at the table. Both big and commanding in size.

“Hi.” You spoke first- a trained reaction.

“Hey, Bonnie!” You nearly jumped again at the enthusiasm. He was sitting closest to you and he reached for your hand before you could hold it out for a greeting. “John Mactavish- but you can call me Johnny.” You wondered if every man in this house had overwhelming smiles.

“Nice to meet you.” You returned his greeting with a repeat of your name. He plopped back down in his seat. The man next to him stood up. Something about him made you want to know him. He seems like the sort of person you go to when you need a shoulder to lean on . His movements were precise and swift, yet the crinkles around his eyes made your shoulders relax.

“John Price. Very nice to meet you.” It was polite and warm just like him. Your hand itched to hold his and you were disappointed when he didn’t extend it. So you extended yours. He quickly took it, his hands as calloused and as warm as you thought they’d be.

“Nice to meet you too.” You added. You quickly let go- hoping you weren’t too sweaty.

“Sit please.” He requested, gesturing to the seats across from him.

“Hello everyone.” Kate gruffed from behind you. The two men’s eyes widened quickly sputtering out an apology for ignoring her. With a playful huff, she rolled her eyes taking a seat next to you.

“We have some pastries if you want, there’s also drinks in the fridge,” John said, nodding his head towards the plate in the center of the table.

“We wouldn’t mind throwing on the kettle either,” Kyle added, sitting at the head of the table.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Kate quickly took them up on the offer grabbing something with blueberries. You grabbed a scone with the most icing. “Good.” Kate hummed between bites.

“Corner shop just outside base.” Johnny chirped. You wondered for a moment if they had bought these just for you. Well maybe not for you to eat- but maybe so you’d perceive them as caring? Or put together? You shook the thought out of your head, taking a bite of the scone. It was softer than it looked and had hint of orange. Your eyes lifted up from the scone. Each man was staring at you- not expectantly, but like one would look at zebras at the zoo. With slight wonder, but mostly curiosity. They were accessing you and you couldn’t blame them. You were asking a lot from them.

“I would like to tell you why I need to leave my apartment.” You offered, setting the scone down on a napkin. They shifted in their seats- sitting at attention. “I know this is a big ask and I would just like to say I would absolutely be happy to pay some utility or some other expense. I don’t want you to think I’m mooching off of you.”

“Don’t need to worry about that.” John spoke, quickly putting an end to any concern you have. You took a deep breath, your eyes drifting over to Johnny. His face was serious now, but his smile lines remained. You couldn’t imagine smiling so much that it would be etched into your skin. You breathed out.

“A few nights ago my apartment was broken into, during the night while I was at home.” Kyle winced, and Johnny stiffened. John remained the same. “Luckily I had bear spray and a crowbar.” You chuckled despite the heaviness in the air. “Nothing happened and they ran out fairly fast once I started screaming and swinging the crowbar around- but I just don’t feel safe anymore.”

“Of course.” John affirmed after you. “I’m happy you were able to react. Sometimes in those situations, people freeze.”

It was small but it was the validation you needed to hear.

“Thank you.” You said softly. “This wasn’t the first time it had happened. My place has been broken into two other times, this was just the first time it had happened while I was home. I’ve gone to the police but they never follow through. On top of that when I come home it’s usually dark and I’m almost surprised when I make it home.” Your head turned towards Laswell who nodded at you to go on. You hoped they didn’t think you were a baby. People are going through hard times all over the world. What makes you so special that you should be free from it? These men had no doubt been exposed to horrible acts, things you don’t think you could cope with hearing let alone experiencing. They’re probably thinking how entitled you are. How you should buck up and stop playing victim. You shook yourself out of your thoughts. “I‘ve been saving money for a few months but it still not enough. If I could just have about a month’s paycheck that would put me at my goal. I know it’s a big ask, but it’ll be like I’m not even here, I promise. I’m a rather boring person, unfortunately.”

They chuckled at that.

“Well, Sweetheart. I think you just landed yourself a bedroom.”

Hi friends I hope you liked this! I have 5 more chapters scheduled to post so I won't leave you hanging! Don't be afraid to say hi or come visit me on my page!

The next chapter will be posted in three days! 🤎

See you at the next chapter!

#novemberheart #birdsofafeathercod #poly141 #poly141 x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #captain john price #gaz x reader #captain john price x female reader #price x reader #john price #soap x you #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #johnny soap mactavish #kate laswell #poly141 x fem reader

257 notes · View notes

afterglowkatie · 2 months

Text

pair of pests: fight ˏˋ°•*⁀ kyra x catley!reader, short fic/blurb

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 0.6k | based off of this ask

‘That was so stupid and not like you at all,’ Steph hit your arm, it wasn’t hard but it was enough to get your full attention and you knew she wasn’t happy with your incident on the pitch.

You’d gotten into a fight during the match. The whole match had been frustrating, today the team just wasn’t gelling together and you were playing like this was the first time you’d all played together. Barely any of your passes were connecting and you couldn’t understand why. Mixed with the roughness of the match and fouls and free kicks never going your team's way, they were always against your team no matter what.

It felt unfair and the frustrations of the game had just gotten to you, to the point where you finally burst after, what you’d consider to be, another unfair call. Specifically an unfair call against you. Normally you would’ve let it go, but the other player muttered under her breath and you heard it wasn’t particularly nice words towards you.

Without thinking you’d pushed the other player, making her stumble before you banged your shoulder against her while just walking past back to your position. But it didn’t stop there and before you knew it you were having to be pulled back by Leah, ‘Just let it go, it’s not worth it,’ You rolled your eyes knowing that she’d be the first person to voice her frustrations or unfairness within the match.

Though it was too late by the time Leah had managed to make her way over to you and you’d already done enough to warrant a yellow card being shown your way. You’d barely received yellow cards, always wanting to try to be as clean as possible during matches. It was your first one while being at Arsenal and it most likely wasn’t going to be your last, especially with Katie having taken you under her wing, you and Kyra slowly turning into her mini menaces.

‘It’s called passion Steph, maybe try it some time,’ Steph raised her eyebrow at you, while you just smirked at her, knowing you could get under her skin and get away with it. Your response though was definitely a direct reflection from all the time you’d spent around Katie lately.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Kyra stifling her laughs while watching the interaction between you and Steph. Part of the reason you kept talking back to your older sister.

‘That’s it, you’re not hanging out with Katie for like two weeks,’ Steph couldn’t really ban you but you still feigned annoyance at her words, grumbling and mocking exactly how Steph had said it, ‘I’ll have to start putting you with Leah, maybe you’ll stay in line then,’ Empty threats, your sisters specialty when it came to you.

‘Please, Leah seems like a good influence but secretly she’s really not,’ You exaggerated the last few words, saying them a little louder as well knowing that Leah was close by and wanting her to hear you.

‘Um, who was the one to pull you away from that mess? Pretty good influence like of me, I’d say,’ Leah slung her arm around your shoulders, her other hand ruffling your hair a little.

‘Yeah not after having some choice words with the refs,’ You laughed, pushing her away and rolling your eyes.

‘We gotta keep you on your toes. No peace with us around,’ You laughed with Kyra once she finally caught up with you, walking by your side.

Though you didn’t last long next to each other before Katie squeezed between the two of you, arms over both your shoulders, ‘Proud of ya, don’t listen to Steph,’ The three of you will forever continue to cause mayhem both on and off the pitch as long as you all stay at Arsenal.

#kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross imagine #steph catley x you #steph catley #katie mccabe #leah williamson #woso one shot #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso soccer #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc

235 notes · View notes

halsteadlover · 8 months

Text

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

*Pics and gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader where they are married, and the reader is like pregnant about to have their baby and she works with Jay and is having a hard time not being able to work. She’s in pain from the pregnancy and doesn’t like not working so when Jay gets home and tells her how the job goes, she just starts crying because of her hormones and Jay just comforts her and they end up talking about the baby and cuddling until the reader falls asleep!

• Warnings: none that I can think of, just fluff lol

• Word count: 1568.

• A/N: I’m trying to get back to writing but I don’t like one bit how this turned out but here it is 😭 sending lots of love to everyone one and stay safe out there xx

“Baby I’m home!”.

Jay’s voice caught your attention and raised your head, immediately directing your gaze towards him. You were lying on the couch, your hand caressing your baby bump as you watched a stupid show on the TV. You almost jumped for joy when you heard your husband’s voice, happy to no longer be alone and joyful to finally see his face after such a long day.

You tried to lift yourself up and sit on the sofa but with your belly now as big as a hot air balloon it was quite difficult. You let out a sound of frustration at the same moment you saw Jay appear in front of you, a bright smile on his lips.

“Here let me help you sweetheart,” he said, holding out both of his hands to you and helping you sit up. He sat down next to you, and you smiled at him before giving him a kiss on the lips.

“Hi baby,” you whispered into the kiss as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. “I missed you so much.”

“God, I missed you so much more mama,” he smiled into the kiss before placing a hand on your bump and caressing it, turning his attention to his unborn child. “And I missed you too, little one,” he continued, leaving a tender kiss on it “You were a good boy to mom, right?”

You – while trying to maintain a sense of decorum and not burst into tears at that sweet scene – stroked Jay’s hair, making him turn his head towards you. You were used to hearing him talk to your belly but that didn’t make your heart burst with joy any less every time. “He was a little pest, he didn’t stop kicking for a moment.”

He chuckled before turning his attention back to your baby bump again. “What did dada tell you? Let mom rest and then when you get out of there you can take it all on me.”

“How are you feeling love? How was your day?” He asked, settling back on the couch and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, his fingers playing with strands of your hair.

You sighed, a little distressed. “It was boring as you could see from all the texts I sent you, I did nothing but lay here on the couch. God, I can’t wait to give birth.”

He left a kiss on your temple, and you rested your head on his shoulder. “I know baby, but it’s only a few weeks away. I wish I could do something to make you feel better,” he spoke tenderly. He tried to be present as much as possible, to do everything in his power to make you happy and make the pregnancy less burdensome but the truth was that he couldn’t do anything to fill the sense of helplessness you felt.

You and Jay had been working together in Intelligence for years now and never in your life you thought you’d miss the job so much, chasing criminals and catching them. Being pregnant was truly an indescribable experience and you never thought you’d feel so much love for a little being growing inside you and that hadn’t even been born yet, a love so deep you thought your heart would explode.

But you couldn’t deny the other side of the coin either: the sleepless nights, the back pain, the nausea, the hormones and, above all, having to constantly rest. You tried to do some office work, but Voight had forbidden you to even do that, with obviously Jay’s support.

You felt like you were going crazy.

“How was your day?” You asked your husband, playing with his fingers as he continued to stroke your hair and cuddle you.

“It was hectic.” He sighed. “We didn’t stay in the unit for even ten minutes, we worked on a case of an armed robbery with a deceased victim as I already told you…” He continued to speak but the sudden sound of your sobs made him stop in the middle of the sentence. “Babe oh my God, you okay?”

You covered your face with both of your hands, no longer able to keep the tears at bay that continued to pour out of your eyes. You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, which is why you blamed the crazy hormones.

“Baby, talk to me please,” Jay continued in an urgent and concerned tone. “Did I say something wrong? Look at me.”

“I-I’m fine,” you murmured with shaky breaths. He grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face, but you refused to look at him, continuing to cry and sob.

“Love please look at me,” he said urgently. “You’re make me worry to death.”

“I-It’s nothing…”

He gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to turn your face towards him and look at him. His heart sank as he saw your eyes so shiny, although it was a sight he had reluctantly become used to due to the hormones and your mood changes.

He wiped away the tears with his thumb, gently and lovingly caressing your skin, making you cry even more.

God, you hated this.

“It’s okay mama, I’m here with you. Talk to me, what’s bothering you?”

You sighed. “I feel so useless…”

A confused and bewildered expression appeared on his face. “What you mean useless?”

“I sit here all day doing nothing…” Another sob escaped your lips. “I can’t go to work, I can barely cook anything without getting out of breath… I can’t even do house chores without having to sit down after five fucking minutes and you’re forced to do everything when you come home from work tired…”

“Stop, stop,” he interrupted you. “I won’t hear anything else about this nonsense love. You’re the mother of my child, you’re growing our little baby, there is nothing more important than this.”

“But…”

“No, no ‘buts’. You have no idea how much I admire you princess, how much I envy your strength. You’re growing a whole human being inside you; you have any idea how fucking wonderful and awesome this is? You’re creating a new life and along with this, mine too because, believe me baby, I have never felt so alive in my entire life. You have no idea the gift you’re giving me and nothing, and I mean nothing I can do will ever be enough to repay you for everything you’re going, damn baby you’re growing our family.”

His fingers caressed your face, continuing to wipe away your tears and smiling at you with so much warmth and sweetness you felt your heart was about to stop.

“You’re not useless, you’ll never be. I can’t even imagine how hard it is, or how you feel but I will always be here to help you, I will be with you every step of the way.” He kissed you, tasting your salty tears. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

You shrugged playfully trying to hold back a smile and he chuckled at the way you were crying a minute ago and now you were smiling. He hugged you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and letting you rest your head on his chest.

“But I love you so much more,” you murmured, eyes closed as you breathed in deeply that scent made you feel like home.

“Mmh I don’t think so.”

“There are two of us so you can’t win this one,” you replied, “Thank you so much love, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“Shh don’t even say it.” He caressed your hair, smiling even though you couldn’t even see him. “How are you feeling now?”

The moment he asked you this question, your baby gave a particularly hard kick in your womb, making you immediately sit up straight and put a hand on that spot where you felt it.

“Woah woah baby you okay? Is he okay? What happened? You need something?” Jay began peppering you with questions in his overprotective way, his expression instantly twisted with anxiety and worry.

“I’m fine, he’s just kicking,” you replied, taking a few deep breaths. You took Jay’s hand and placed it on your baby bump seeing the way his tight features visibly relaxed and a huge smile grew on his lips.

No matter how many times he felt his baby kick, every single time was more emotional than the previous one. Jay leaned towards your belly again, pressing a kiss on it. “Hey buddy it’s dad here, how about you let mommy rest for a bit? She had a bit of a rough day… But don’t worry I’m always here, dada is waiting for you so eagerly and he loves you more than his own life,” he whispered, talking to his unborn son as he used to do every night since he found out you were pregnant.

You smiled, struggling to hold back the tears again as you caressed his hair and imagined the moment when you’d finally become a family.

You imagined the moment you’d see Jay pick up your son for the first time, how much he’d be loved by his mom and dad and the more you looked at your husband – the love of your life, you everything, your safe haven – the more you thought you could’ve never chosen a better father for your child.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @klovesreading, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart

Jay Halstead tag list: @burgstead, @bebataylor84, @ares-kelani-wayne, @ixna-mikaelsxn, @sande5098, @smoothdogsgirl, @withakindheartx, @jess2013, @maddu-oliveira, @lovemesomepietro, @onechicagodrawings, @jinxtan18, @ready hit-it, @rainroo2, @tinfoilhat2719, @upsteadlovingheart, @nevaehstreater18, @sophiatellerrhodes, @dedlund82, @kellykidd, @rippl3s, @stephanie708, @annahargrove, @smutlOver, @kuroe-san, @caroldanverwife, @baby, @nosy09, @luvreading67, @danielmarie, @saiyuo12, @nachodaze, @waywardhunter95, @fighterkimburgess, @ephemeral314, @mads-weasley, @itskellysev, @lovemedlife, @atarmychick007, @amazedbyitall, @glodessa, @xeleni-dutchnurse, @ossypooh, @itriedtoexplain, @randomwriter1021, @averyhotchner, @ellavanderberg, @mrshalsteadxx, @junevoidzombie, @nocturnalherb16, @croissantthief, @jayhalsteadsbadge, @youngblood199456, @dreamss-wavess, @halsteadloversworld, @laaaauuraaaaa, @firerusher, @itserickalove, @slytherlight, @goingwiththewind, @notanordinaryprincess95, @cadyfanninger, @acewritesfics, @iloveest, @instantpizzacat, @wickedlovely121

Click here to be added to the tag list ❤️

Main Masterlist

Jay Halstead Masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Side blog -> @/halsteadloverslibrary

Ask me anything 💭

538 notes · View notes

xiaoseminence · 2 years

Note

I’m not sure if you do these but

An imposter!sagau with a creator (gn??)who just keeps resurrecting when they die, like their body disintegrates and reforms in the same spot like a minute later

Anyway Zhongli’s reaction to killing the creator, then watching their golden blood spill everywhere and realise with horror what he did

Only for creator to resurrect not even five minutes later, but with massive obvious trust issues (and Zhongli’s subsequent extreme guilt)

It’s a guilt fic im asking you to write a guilt fic

𓆩♡𓆪 Divine Retribution 𓆩♡𓆪 (Genshin SAGAU Scenario) (Imposter AU!)

Summary ��✬ Mislead by a false idol, Rex Lapis commits the ultimate act of heresy. It’s only when the blood of the real creator stains his hands a golden color that he realizes what he just did.

Warnings ➵✬ Heavy Yandere, Mild depictions of blood/violence, Worship/Religious practices, Dark Topics, Depictions of emotional distress, Reader dies but not really

Despite how much your legs ached and your lungs seemed about ready to combust, you were slowly but surely starting to realize that you’d never be able to outrun him. If anything, it was as if he was toying with you, his disembodied voice whispering fury filled words into your ears as tears streamed down your face.

“Sinner, Miscreant! You vile creature will meet your justice at my hands today”

You never asked for any of this. The initial excitement of discovering you’d awoken in the world of your favorite game, surrounded by the many characters you’d grown to know and love, soon turned into icy fear once you saw the look in their eyes. From the very first moment any of them met you, they looked at you with such disdain and malice, they’d curse at you, call you “Imposter” or “Monster”, and chase you away. So far you managed to outrun them all, hiding in the rural regions of Liyue without showing your face to a single soul. But as soon as he was informed about your existence, your life was running on limited time.

“Their eminence will be delighted to see your head on a stake, hung above the walls of their palace. Demons like you should know that only death awaits you in the land of the creator”

A loud cry erupted from your throat as you felt a piercing pain in one of your legs. One look back revealed a golden spear embedded deeply in your flesh. Although you tried to keep running, it resulted only in a pathetic limp before you collapsed to the ground shortly after. The black cloak you had grown accustomed to wearing hid your form from the archon that was drawing closer and closer to your shivering body. The countless scrapes and bruises that covered you from head to toe after running for such a long time felt more painful than ever before. The golden blood flowing through your veins ever since you first came to this world was absorbed by the dark cloth, remaining as nothing but a barely visible stain.

His steps were slow and silent as he lazily stalked up to you. To him, you were wounded prey - and he was the predator about to devour you whole. Finally stepping in front of you, his gloved hands reached out to harshly grab your chin, forcing you to look straight into his amber colored eyes that were burning with resentment.

“It seems as though the little pest has finally been caught in the trap. Speak, Rat. Dare you defend your actions of besmirching the divine creator’s name with your hideous attempt to copy their form?”

He always seemed like such a grounded and wise character, yet as you were met with his perfect features pulled into a dangerous snarl, it was difficult to believe that this was the same person. An involuntary whine spilled past your lips as his grip on your jaw grew stronger to the point that you thought your skull would break apart.

“I don’t know what crime you keep accusing me of. I never hurt anyone!”, it came out as a desperate plea for mercy, yet something inside you told you that it didn’t matter whether you were to beg on your knees or spit in his face - the archon of geo remained as unmoving in his resolve to kill you as mountain, ever unfazed by its surroundings.

“Pathetic.” - He all but growled this word as his eyes seemed to grow as hard as gold. Before you could even realize what was happening, a harsh push had your back painfully colliding with the muddy ground below. The tip of his golden spear dematerialized from its place embedded in your thigh, instead appearing only inches from your (e/c) eyes. You were scared to blink, even scared to breathe - in fear that the spear would come crashing down on you before you knew it. Your face - the face that everyone seemed to resent you for - was staring right at the archon who would be your killer.

For only a fraction of a moment, his amber eyes seemed to soften, their color appearing gentle and warm like molten pools of caramel. Yet this moment was soon over, as an even harsher scowl appeared on his features.

“How dare you? You really thought you’d be able to fool their grace’s most devoted worshiper?”, he hissed, as if it was somehow your fault that you looked similar to the deity they revered.

“You don’t deserve to utter any last words”

Before your mouth could open to let out one last defiant scream, before your muscles could contract and roll you to the side, away from danger, a sharp pain shot through your forehead - all but seeming to split your head in half as the spear found its place in your skull. The last thing your tired eyes noticed was a single splatter of shimmering, golden blood - before finally… your vision faded to black.

In all his years of seeing war, bloodshed, famine and death, the archon of Liyue never once faltered in his conviction toward his creator. Even after losing those who held close to his heart, his faith gave him the strength to carry onward - his body seemingly fueled only by sheer devotion. Yet in this very moment, as a single splatter of golden blood hit his face, he never felt more pathetic. Not a single muscle in his form dared to even so much as twitch, as the only feeling aside from his own heartbeat thundering painfully in his chest was the warm liquid sliding down his cheek. It seared him, felt so hot against his skin that he was sure it was a warning of what hellfire would await him after what he had done.

“I- Your grace?”, his words were barely above a whimper, hand outstretched as if to touch them, assure himself that he hadn’t done what he feared he had. Although he tried to convince himself that he must be mistaken, the endlessly empty feeling in his chest confirmed what he deep down already knew to be true. He had killed them.

ɢᴏᴅꜱʟᴀʏᴇʀ - ʜᴇʀᴇᴛɪᴄ - ᴅɪꜱꜱᴇɴᴛᴇʀ

The words kept repeating themselves endlessly in his mind. With a broken sob his knees gave out under him, allowing his body to fall onto the cold ground. He felt like he was burning from the inside, hellfire coursing through his veins, yet his shaking hands still reached out for his creator’s limp body. His gloves had long since been discarded, thrown aside and forgotten in the damp grass. “What a fool I am, your grace. What hubris led me to believe that I could be your most devoted servant, the one to lay the world at your feet when in the end… it was I who fell for a false idol?”

He wanted to cradle his deity in his arms, let the tears that spilled from his eyes wash away his sins and their blood. His face felt tainted, dirty - sullied with the blood of his one and only god. Blood that he had spilled. When his hands should have touched the body lying motionless on the ground, he was met with nothing but shimmering dust. The creator had disappeared.

It mattered little to Rex Lapis what would become of this world, of the inhabitants of Liyue and all those he swore to protect. Nothing in this world would ever matter again without the gentle guidance of the creator.

“Please, I beg you! Please punish me! I deserve a punishment worse than death”- He bowed down so deeply that he could feel the cool ground against his face. He was ready to beg and atone for as long as it took for you to punish him. He would accept anything, anything at all - but he couldn’t live knowing he’d been abandoned by you. A life without your presence was a greater torture to him than his mind could even fathom - if you stayed gone… he would break apart.

“Please… come back”, he had yelled and cried to the point his lungs started to hurt, and by now his voice was nothing above a raspy whisper. What a pathetic shadow of himself the archon had become.

You often wondered what the afterlife would be like. Would you end up waking up in yet another game world? Or… would dying perhaps give you a chance to go back home? Home, where you belonged and many friendly souls were waiting for you, people who wouldn’t curse and spit at you, forcing you to go into hiding for so long. Yet death did not come to you as easily as you expected, as when you opened your eyes again…

A cloud of shimmering golden dust was surrounding you like a cocoon. When it all at once burst open, you were met with a rather startling sight. Before you knelt Rex Lapis - or Zhongli as you’d first come to know him in the game. Yet to your surprise, nothing seemed to remain of the unshakable mountain he appeared as before. He was shivering, near silent sobs racking his body uncontrollably.

The slight golden shimmer in his peripheral vision made him freeze. His teary eyes raised themselves at a snail’s pace - too scared was he that it was a mere illusion of his desperate mind. Yet when he met your mortified gaze, he couldn’t help but cry out in relief.

“Your grace! I will repent! Whatever you want, for however long you see fit-”, the male practically flung himself at your feet, hands grasping all too eagerly at your stiff legs. His touch was gentle, but you knew it would be impossible to get him to let you go if he saw it fit to hold you in place. He was looking up at you with such… passion? It felt as though you could see right through his eyes, into a burning fire of devotion. This was far different to how anyone ever looked at you before in this world. They tended to gaze at you with either disdain or a twisted kind of pity that made you feel sick to your stomach. It scared you far more than if he had been angry, swinging at you with that spear of his.

“L-let me go! Don’t touch me!”, you frantically cried out, moving backwards so quickly that you fell over.

His expression immediately fell, an almost empty look replacing his formerly so fiery expression.

“I understand, your grace”, his breath shuddered as he instantly let you go, hands retracting so fast, it seemed as though your skin had burned him.

“I will prove my worth to you. Command me as you wish. No matter what you order me to do, who you want me to kill. If you want me to mutilate and torture myself I will be happy to do so, I’d burn all of Liyue down in a heartbeat if you so desired - if only to cleanse myself of the sin I have committed”

His fervent, desperate devotion was far more terrifying than his wrath could ever be. Word count ➵✬ 1850 Note ➵✬ Thank you for my very first request

6K notes · View notes

upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Text

Is This A Thing?

Remus Lupin x fem!reader [1.5K] that inbetween stage of being friends and something more, soft, fluffy stuff that your friends start to notice.

“I’m starting to think you like her more than me, Moony.”

Remus snorted, an amused huff that stirred the baby hairs on your forehead. He ignored Sirius, leaning further into the squishy armchair, taking you with him. You squirmed, just a little, resettling into him, your legs curled up between the space he’d made for you between his knees, his chin resting on your head.

You were both reading, or rather, you were trying to. Remus smelled too nice, clean and fresh like new linen, a touch of spearmint, lemongrass and sage. He had his own book propped against the armrest, held open with one hand whilst the other sat over your stomach. It was innocent enough, palms kept away from your bare skin by a Gryffindor sweater, a shirt underneath it. But you still felt the heavy weight of his touch and it was enough to make you read the same line about the side effects of gillyweed three times over.

“You don’t let me sit with you like that,” Sirius continued, his tone sticky soft and teasing, lips pushed into a pout that made you laugh. “Is it ‘cause I beat you at chess the other day?”

It was true. As close as the boys were, Remus tended to linger on the outside of James and Sirius’ affectionate dog piles, pulling away first when they hugged, avoiding their childish play fights with rolling eyes and a fond grin. It was different with you though. Always had been. An ache to be close, to touch, to feel. Eventually it became inevitable and you didn’t question it anymore, not when Remus was so eager to pull you into his space and keep you there for as long as you were happy.

James was shaking his head, cross legged on one of the many rugs that overlapped the common room with a smirk on his lips and several pages of crumpled parchment around him. “I don’t think that’s the reason, Pads.”

You were too warm all of a sudden, but doing nothing to stop their teasing as you pushed yourself closer to Remus, hoping you could hide your flushed face between your book and his chest.

“M’not sure,” Sirius went on, drawling. He was hanging upside down off of the armchair closest to the fire, his head lolling back off the side, black hair dripping to the floor, the small hooped earring he’d pinched from your dress catching the firelight. “He’s an awfully sore loser, you know.”

Remus huffed but stayed silent, ignoring his friend to the best of his ability. His hand shifted, an attempt to keep you close, moving from your tummy to your side, fingers sneaking under the hem of your uniform to stroke a path of heat over bare skin. He bent his head closer to yours, as if your book was more interesting than his own.

Sirius didn’t notice, suddenly too busy making eyes at a girl across the common room, a seventh year student that seemed just as interested in him. But James was letting his gaze linger on the touch, as innocent as it seemed, eyes flickering to his friend, wondering if Remus was brave enough to meet his stare, his raised brows, his knowing grin.

He wasn’t. Remus slumped down into the chair further, avoiding any eye contact that would confirm what James was thinking.

Is this new or have I just not noticed? Is this finally happening? Do we need to talk about this later?

“Anyway,” Sirius returned to the conversation, now upright and slipping a piece of parchment that he caught out of the air into his pocket, the ink still wet and holding the location of whatever meeting place the girl had sent him. “Like I was saying. Am I not your favourite, Remus?”

“You’ve never been my favourite,” Remus grumbled and you held back a grin, not wanting Sirius to start on you.

“Rude.”

“You’re a pest.” Remus retorted lazily.

Sirius gasped, all faux dramatic and scandalous, as if his friend had done the utmost to offend him. But it quietened him for a little bit, maybe a good three minutes or so, chewing on the end of his quill - no, your quill - before he spoke again.

“Is this a thing now?” He gestured to the two of you, your thighs resting against Remus’ knees, his socked foot pushed to yours. The boy’s dark eyes glittered, interested, amused. “Should I look out my dress robes? Have the talk with you, Moony? I’m not ready to be an uncle, you know—”

“My god, Sirius, do you ever shut up?” Remus was scarlet cheeked and frowning, doing his best to hide the way he was flushed behind your head. He’d snatched his hand away from your side, like you’d burned him and the action was enough to leave you unsure.

Is this a thing now? Is this a thing now? Is this a thing now?

You swallowed hard, moving from the space between Remus’ legs and standing, doing your best to pretend to yawn and stretch, your foot kicking away James’ failed attempts at his potions essay. You didn’t see, but Remus was glaring at his friend.

“Well. I’m off to bed,” you mumbled, book clasped tightly to your chest, page lost. It was barely past eight o’clock. “Night, boys.”

Sirius looked contrite as he watched you go, receiving a smack on the back of his head from James and his stack of papers, and as you made your way up the steps towards your dormitory, you heard the explosion of voices behind you. An argument ensued, Remus’ voice at the forefront despite how hushed it was, low and annoyed and aimed at Sirius.

You wondered what he’d say, what explanation he’d give. Because you certainly weren’t anything, not that you’d spoken about, anyway. You were lingering in between friends and something more, sitting on the edge of a declaration, maybe not quite love, but definitely more than a crush. You’d spent too long looking at Remus Lupin differently from the other boys now, too many years hoping he’d sit closer, hug you longer.

And he did. You noticed. You knew. You were sure he did too, ‘cause his gaze held something more now and as the months passed and you both got older - and more impatient - he got braver too. He pulled you over his lap, let his hands linger on bare skin in the warmer months, let you trace the scars he got each full moon and you were always an inch or two away from kissing them better. You wondered if he’d let you. You wondered if he’d be bold enough to ask for it first.

Before you could close your door, your dorm room lit by candle light, a hand caught the wooden planks and you startled, opening it fully to find Remus standing there looking sheepish. His shirt was creased from where you’d been leaning on him, his cheeks still rosy from whatever sharp words he’d aimed at his friend downstairs.

“Hi,” he breathed out, chest heaving a little like he’d run all the way up to catch you.

He had.

“Hi,” you whispered back, wondering where this was going, why he was here, too aware of your empty dorm and your empty bed behind you.

“I’m sorry,” Remus began, gesturing vaguely behind him. “About him. Sirius. He’s a— well, he’s a prat.”

You snorted, an amused noise that was far from ladylike but it made the corners of Remus’ frown pick up and he was grinning, relieved that you didn’t seem to be too upset. “You say that as if I’m not already aware,” you replied. “I learned to ignore Sirius Black years ago, Remus. You don’t have to apologise for him.”

Remus shuffled awkwardly, one hand carding through his already messy hair as he worked up the courage to say what he wanted. You watched him swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and suddenly, it felt momentous, like there was a spell lingering in the air, like it was only you and Remus in the castle despite the way you could still hear James telling Sirius off in the common room below.

“He was right though. Pads,” Remus clarified and he was frowning a little, stumbling over each sentence like it was too hard to speak. “For once. I do like you more than him.”

Another beat of silence, shy, soft. You could feel the air shift, your heart thunder.

Remus leaned against the wall, the cool bricks doing nothing to settle the flush across his face and neck. But still, he spoke, quiet and measured, eyes pinned on you like he wanted you to know how brave he was being, how much he meant the words he said. You could still feel his touch from before, four fingertips trailing over your side, the bare skin over the dip in your waist, the way his thumb joined in and pressed nicely against your ribs.

You felt dizzy.

“I think— I think I like you most,” Remus nodded, failing to look serious as a smile broke over his face, full lips lifting into a nervous sort of smile. “More than anyone else, really.”

“Anyone?” You think you whispered it, but Remus heard, smile growing.

“Everyone,” he agreed.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin drabble #the maruaders #the marauders x reader

2K notes · View notes