#also i think his ears are both standing up higher than last week so i am excited. manifesting those prick ears | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ja3hwa · 1 year

Text

♥︎ 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭 | 𝐎𝐭𝟖 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ♥︎

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Request asks, "How would the boys react to the reader having no energy to get out of bed"

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 2.3k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Suggestive, Angst, Fluff.

ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ: Ateez Members x Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Pet names. Fluffly cuteness. Mentions of periods and period pains. Talk about female anatomy. Mention of alcohol and one night stands. Nudity. Yeosang being a little shit. Making out. Mention of sexual activities. Workaholic. Mingi has big dick energy. Morning sickness. Panicking. Pregnancy scare. Unhappy thoughts. Feeling drained. Comforting. Soft touches. Insecurities. Stress and serious talk about mental health.

Note : I went a little overboard the more the wrotes these, so jonghos one is a little long... woops. But I hope you enjoy the read non the less ♡ thank you again @zi-ever for this request ♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

The sun crept into your room, making you l see out a strangled groan. You tossed slightly to suddenly feel Hongjoong also curled up next to you. Normally, he would be out of bed by now, but for some odd reason, he, too, didn't feel like leaving the comforts of the warm bed. You open your sensitive eyes to see his soft features, snoring lightly with his one arm lazily draped over your waist. You both had such rough nights and a hell of a week with work. You deserved the sleep-in.

"What's the time..." Hongjoong suddenly spoke in his low gravelled voice.

"Almost ten." Your reply made Hongjoong pull you closer as if to say 'No, I want to be here longer'. You kissed his forehead with a little chuckle, holding him close to you until he started to fall back into a soft slumber. Sleep was taking you as well, feeling your eyes grow heavy, you snuggled into him. Who needs to get up anyway... it is after all your day off.

𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

Seonghwa is the definition of a morning person. Up at six or seven, already made breakfast by eight and doing house chores by nine. You, however, weren't a morning bird. Come to think about it. You aren't a night owl either. You are more of a permanently tired pigeon. Seonghwa didn't mind it. One of his favourite things to do was wake you and help you with your morning routine. You were always extra clingy during that time. So this means get got to hold you longer than normal.

"Come on, bunny. It's time to get up." He spoke softly while leaning over to your butt so he could pat it lightly. You groaned in response, sinking more under the comforter, wanting the warm blanket to consume you. He watched you with nothing but love in his gaze. His light chuckle echoed into your ears, making you poke your head out to see Seonghwa has his hand on his hips, watching you. “Hi there, Bunny.”

“Hwaaaa five more minutes pleasee….” You moaned with a higher pitch, leaning over to grab his arm to pull into the bed with all your might. And somehow, you succeeded. He let out a sigh, moving slightly to tuck his arms around your figure, nuzzling his face into your neck. He would normally get out of the bed from your usual morning antics, but today seemed different, so he laid there, holding you, until you were ready to get up.

𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

Unlike most people, your periods came in full swing of pain, backache, headaches, and indescribable cramps. You felt the sun beaming into the bedroom, making you groan at the annoying light. Your eyes stung when you opened them slightly, only barely noticing Yunho had slipped away from the bed. You felt your emotions running overdrive, and it was like your skin was being set on fire. Hot, cold, hot, cold. Your body couldn’t pick.

“Hey, baby.” You could faintly hear Yunho’s voice in the distance as if he was standing by the door. Which he was. He watched you silently for a moment before you woke, worried you might be in pain when you woke up since last night you began whining about getting your period. When you groaned, he knew you weren’t okay. So he moved quickly to close the curtain, making sure there was not a lot of sunlight peeking through. “how are you feeling?”

“No, I wish to remove my uterus and throw it out the window.”

He couldn’t help but let out your chuckle at your dry humour, moving over towards the bed so he could get in the bed behind you. He kissed your forehead lightly, moving the blanket slightly so you could get comfortable next to him. “We don’t need to leave this bed…” He pulled a heating pad from the bedside―one he warmed while he was gone―placing it on your tummy. “All we need to do is rest.”

𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

Your head was pounding. Every limb ached to the point, breathing felt like work. You turned over to see Yeosang was still sound asleep, with one arm draped over your naked waist. Naked waist?! you’ve never sat up so quickly, looking around the room with panic. Why were you naked in Yeosang’s bed, along with―you lifted the blanket and blush flushed against your cheeks―a very naked Yeosang. Dropping the blanket in a huff, the cold breeze it made woke Yeo with a shiver.

“Darling… what are you doing? It’s cold,” he mumbled, voice gravelled and deep. You think for a moment, trying to remember the night before. Looking at Yeo, his eyes were still shut, but you knew he was no longer sleeping. Leaning down, you had to whisper;

“What happened last night?”

He chuckled lowly, opening one eye to take a look at you. Unlike your memory loss, Yeosang had remembered the whole ordeal from last night. With a smile, his arm snakes back on your waist, pulling you down so you are lying next to him. You could feel his body heat, the hotness of his breath on your neck. You felt a strange sense of comfort in his arms even though he was your best friend and not some fuck buddy.

“Why don’t I show you.” he sealed his lisp against yours, and he suddenly sat on top of you. Safe to say you wouldn’t be leaving his bed until you remembered everything of the night prior in detail.

𝐒𝐚𝐧

It was 3 am when you finally got home. San was already passed out on his side of the bed when you entered your room that night. You didn’t want to wake him, so you got ready for bed before passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow. When the sun rose and San started to wake, you could feel him shifting. You groan in protest at the idea of getting up for work, wanting nothing more than to stay in bed all day. San seemed to have the energy of the gods that morning, unlike his usual ‘5 more minutes’ mentality. He sat up wide awake and ready for the day but when he looked over to you seeing you hadn’t even opened your eyes, he knew you weren’t ready for the day the same way he was.

“Long day…” He did ask like a question, but it was more of a statement. You just huffed sightly, not even having the energy to speak. He had to chuckle slightly, showing off his classic Cheshire cat smile. Leaning down, he kissed your forehead before leaning over to the side table for his phone before getting up out of bed. “Seems like coffee and sleep is the recipe for today. I’ll call our manager.”

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

You were sleeping soundly like you were cuddled by a cloud up in the heavens. Everything was perfect… that was until you shifted slightly in order to reach out for your boyfriend that was not laying next to you. He was missing, and by the faint smell of burned bacon from downstairs, it meant he was in the kitchen. You tried to roll over again, but this time, a sharp pain surged between your legs and your lower back. A heavy gasp left your lips, and luckily, Mingi came in to see you in pain. He had to bite his lip as he walked on over to the edge of the bed, looking down at your pained expression. You finally opened your eyes to see your tall boyfriend with a smug look on his face, making you groan even more.

“What's the matter, Sugar? Feeling sore.” The smug bitch let out a small chuckle. Watching your tormented face turn into a glare filled with fire.

“SONG MINGI, ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME!?” You yelped, pushing your face into the pillow with a fake cry. He had to cover his mouth, trying his hardest not to let another laugh out. You both thought for a moment, remembering why exactly you are so sore. And it was truly your fault. You had begged Mingi to go rougher and harder with you last night.

“I regret nothing. Now, be a good boyfriend and cuddle my pain away. “ You mumbled into the pillow, waving your hand in his direction. He sighed lightly, smiling softly as he crawled into the bed with you, letting you snuggle into his chest, feeling safer in his touch. He guesses Breakfast can wait.

𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

You woke up in a huge fit of sickness. You were dizzy, nauseous and could barely keep your eyes open. Wooyoung was nowhere to be found, and it made your emotions mess up. You called for him, and luckily, he was already heading back to the room in order to wake you up so you could get ready for the lunch you had planned with his friends.

“Come on, peach. We are going to be late.” His words were stern with a touch of lightly-heartedness. You tried to sit up slightly in order to talk to him, but before you could even get a word out, you shot up to run into the bathroom to empty your stomach contents. You left like a wave of illness just washed over you, and it made Wooyoung turn into a panic. So what is the logical thing Wooyoung could do in the situation… Call Seonghwa.

The eldest tried to calm him down, saying to grab a water bottle, a warm cloth on your forehead, and bed rest. Which the young one did, moving quickly to get you situated back in bed. You groan trying to apologize, but Wooyoung kept repeating ‘This isn’t your fault’.

“Thanks again Hyung, I’m sorry we won't make it to the lunch,” Wooyoung said while watching you curl up into a ball under the sheets. Seonghwa started talking about how it was fine and that they’d see him and you another time, but what really caught his attention is what he said at the end of the conversation.

“Are you sure she isn’t pregnant?”

“PREGNANT!!!??”

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

You didn’t sleep. You couldn’t explain it. Tiredness was gifted to you, but when your eyes closed, nothing happened. You felt drained, but at the same time, you thought you could go for a run and be fine. You were restless and exhausted. Seeing the clock on the side table reading 4:30 am, you knew Jongho had to wake and head to work soon. You’d been staring at the roof all night, and what’s worse is you are supposed to go to work with him today for a photo shoot for a K-drama you both were a part of. You let out a small sigh, trying not you wake him with your shifting but little did you know, Jongho had been awake for some time, listening to you shift and sigh, wondering if he should intervene or not. But the moment he heard a fake in your breath as if you were going to cry. He knew he needed to say something.

So he turned over slightly, hooking his fingers on the hem of your sleep shorts so he could pull you closer to him, letting you nuzzle your face into his neck. He didn’t speak at first and nor did you. All he did was hold you, comfort you with the warm embrace of his arms and the sound of his heartbeat calming yours. It was only when he placed a kiss on your forehead that he spoke “Are you okay?”

He knew it was a silly question to ask, of course, you weren’t okay. But he needed to start a conversation somehow. You shook your head slightly, not bothering to make up an excuse. But even if you wanted to lie, none seemed to come to mind… “I feel empty… I’m so tired, Jong. I just… I don’t know how I feel.” Your mind was all over the place, and you had no idea where to begin in expressing your emotions, so it was like your brain chose to pick none of them.

“It’s okay, angel…” His words were soft, almost like a whisper. “It’s okay to feel like that. Our job is tiresome and hard. And sometimes you can burn out.” His hand that was firm on your hips loosened so he could snake up your back in order to run his fingers along your spine, comforting you more.

“Mental health is a serious thing. If you don’t want to do something. It’s okay. If you want to lay in bed for the day or hold onto me. Or even be alone. All of that is okay. It's natural to feel like this when you have such a draining job. But please, Honey, never feel like you can’t talk to me. I’m here for you, just like you are for me.”

You felt a stray tear all from your eye, feeling like the rubber band that seemingly had been wrapped around your chest had been cut by his words, gifting you with the first deep breath. He smiled slightly, feeling you suddenly melt into his touch, but before he got too comfortable, he lent over to the side table to reach for his phone. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but after a minute or so, he put the phone down. He turned back to you, sinking deeper into the mattress in order to have maximum comfort.

“It’s cancelled. Now rest. Sleep as long as you need.” He gave you one last kiss on the forehead, watching as you finally close your eyes…

“There’s also another day.”

- ♥︎

390 notes · View notes

beneathashadytree · 8 months

Text

LUNCH TIME - JOTARO KUJO X READER

Warnings : none I think, this is set between DIU and Stone Ocean, a sort of happy family AU, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : domestic fluff for the loml

Word count : 0.6K words

Additional notes : This is super short, but I just missed Jotaro🫶🏽

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

“You got the shallots I asked for?”

“Yeah, they had an offer, a whole kilogram for 4.55. A steal, huh?” They looked proud as they handed him the bag with the ‘DISCOUNT!’ sticker. “They also had some fresh parsley on sale, so I got some.” After setting the rest of their purchases down, they leaned in to give him a kiss to the cheek. Loathe as he would be to admit it—if asked about it, that is—they noticed how their husband leaned in a bit, and how he even let out an absentminded (but certainly affectionate) hum at that.

“Thanks, I can work with that too.” Jotaro began to work on peeling and slicing the shallots, while they went to wash off the rest of the produce in the sink. Considering just how they fared in the kitchen, they sometimes thanked the higher powers that he was perfectly fine with being on cooking duty forevermore while they handled groceries. “What soup do you want?”

A confused look made its way on their face. “I don’t think any of the food you’re making goes well with soup. Unless you’re making miso soup, which would be too much.”

Momentarily setting the knife aside, he sighed. “Jolyne’s voice sounds weird. I think she’s coming down with something.”

“Aha. It’s probably cause of that ice-cream you two got yesterday. Honestly, what were you thinking, having something that cold in the middle of February, and on the beach no less?”

Their scolding fell on deaf ears, as they both knew that Jotaro was helpless when it came to Jolyne. Just one look at her dazzling smile and sparkling eyes and he was sold, giving in to her every whim and fancy. It was up to them to be the disciplinary parent, or else she would’ve turned out horribly spoilt.

The accusatory train of thought never got them anywhere with Jotaro, though, and they knew it was pointless to go on, so they turned to more important matters. “In that case, I can make her some vegetable soup with lemon and pepper. Works wonders, I tell you.” Standing up after having crouched to grab the broth they’d made last week and left in the freezer, he was giving them a dead-pan look. “What?”

“Do you wanna blow our house up?”

Rolling their eyes, they shoved his shoulder—which, unsurprisingly, did not make him even budge. “You brat. I made you that soup before when you were quarantined.”

“Could’ve sworn that was your mother’s,” he mumbled under his breath, amusement on his face as he turned back to dig out more vegetables for the noodles he was making. “I’ll cut extra for that soup. You just focus on not burning that broth.”

“Hardy-har-har.” With nothing more than mild annoyance, they started the thawing process. After a few moments of silence, they quietly asked, “Can you even burn soup?”

“Are you taking that as a challenge?” Jotaro snorted, somehow having already finished dicing up half the vegetables, and currently tearing open two packs of noodles. “You’ll find a way to do it. I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“You know what? Starve.”

“Hardly a threat, considering I can fend for myself. You on the other hand…”

“I’m off to wake Jolyne up for medicine,” they loudly interrupted, not before giving him a vulgur gesture with their hands. “Time for the cook of the house to work solo.”

“You forgot to—“ he tried to quickly interject, then sighed as they’d already long slipped upstairs. Shaking his head, he side-stepped to the abandoned stove, turning the flames on low. “Good grief. You really would’ve burnt the soup like that.”

Taglist: @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna @boorishbrambling

136 notes · View notes

captaincaptainfisher · 7 months

Text

Growth records, entry 5

At several weeks old, the specimen's colour is beginning to change. Not in a way I had hoped, but he is no longer solid brown. His snout and belly has become lighter, while his ears and back have become darker. I'm assuming that it's normal for the full extent of these creature's colours to reveal themselves later in development. As far as I can tell, this pup is now adolescent. It follows me closely whatever I do, often sitting on my shoulders or around my neck... It does not seem to know how heavy it is. I have not discouraged this behaviour.

Recently, I have been in contact with Seven Red Suns, one of this group's seniors and the only senior who still shows any interest in talking to me. I have been doing video calls with him to better understand his work. He has his own project, a small, skinny, yet remarkably designed purple slugcat who is similar in age to my own. This is, for both of them, the first and only contact they've had with their own species, which we believe to be valuable to their development even from so far away.

While I have been picking SRS's brains about how he managed to get the striking purple colouration and the intricate tail design, the slugcat, codenamed "Spearmaster" for it's adaptation, has been interacting with mine over video.

Mostly, they exhibit the usual playful puppy behaviours as best as they can through a video. But I have also seen them exchanging strange hand gestures, seemingly communicating. SRS has explained to me that he has been developing a primitive communication method known as "slugsign", a combination of hand gesticulation and body language to convey words. I have realised that communication with my specimen would be immensely helpful to my work, so am attempting to pick up on it... Unfortunately, from what SRS tells me, the sign they use for me seems to also mean "loser." I do not know how to discipline this.

Seven Red Sun's relationship with Spearmaster... it gives me a lot to think about. They talk even when unnecessary for his work. They play and interact even outside of Spearmaster's developmental needs... And something that concerns me even more.... Spearmaster is progressing much faster than my specimen. They climb and run faster, are physically stronger despite their smaller stature, and seem to have grown out of more of the pup-like behaviours than my specimen has. Whether this is because of SRS's superior bioengineering skills, or because of their different relationship... I do not know. But I may consider also choosing a code name for my specimen.

The last thing I have noticed is the way they interact... Spearmaster has been raised differently. They are often allowed outside of SRS's puppet's can. They have been regaling my specimen with tales of felling vultures and great lizards, of riding atop Raindeer and befriending scavengers...

...And my specimen has lied.

I am not fluent in their slugsign, if it is even possible to be fluent in such a primitive language, but my specimen's responses seem dangerously close to "Oh yeah? Well I fought off THREE lizards!"

...This specimen does not know what a lizard is. This specimen has never interacted with a lizard. This specimen is lying... To impress another.

I seem to have vastly underestimated the complexity of their minds and societal structures. There is no higher sign of intelligence than smugness.

Stand by for further developments.

Recording ends.

...Supplemental.

All attempts to teach the specimen to call me something other than "loser" have ended in failure.

No more gooieducks.

Recording ends.

#my ocs #rainworld #slugcat oc #spearmaster slugcat #rw spearmaster #rain world spearmaster #slugcat sona #scug #scug oc #scugsona #rw scug #rain world scug #rw iterator #iterator oc #iterator #seven red suns #rw srs #SOC growth records

11 notes · View notes

marvel-trash-bin · 3 years

Text

Taking Risks.

(Not my Gif.)

Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*

Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4.2K

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44

A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.

And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.

Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.

It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.

Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”

You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”

You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.

“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”

The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.

“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”

You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”

He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.

“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”

The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.

“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.

His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.

The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.

He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.

He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.

“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.

You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”

And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.

So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.

By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.

“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.

You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”

He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.

“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”

The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.

By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.

He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.

“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”

You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.

“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”

He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.

“For teasing you.”

“And?”

You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.

“For embarrassing you.”

There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.

“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.

Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.

“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”

You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”

Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.

“Proceed.”

Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.

“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.

Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.

“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.

A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.

Powerful.

Strict.

However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.

He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.

After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.

“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”

You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.

It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”

You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.

He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.

“Turn around.”

As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.

“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.

“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.

“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”

He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.

He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.

One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”

You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.

“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.

Then a bite.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”

And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.

“I’d let you do anything to me.”

He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.

“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.

The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.

It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.

You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”

You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.

His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.

“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”

And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.

As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.

He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.

His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.

“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”

This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

#helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #sugar daddy zemo #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #smut

3K notes · View notes

thebooktopus · 2 years

Text

April Showers Week One: Rain/Thunderstorms

The theme of the month is "April Showers"! For Week One, I present: rain & thunderstorms. You'll also find a guest rec from the one and only @the-starryknight, identified by the 💧 emoji!

Next week will be... showers! Have a rec you think belongs on this list? Send me a DM! Recs are Drarry unless otherwise noted.

☔️ Taking Chances by @gracerene // E // 135K // such a great fic about coming home and second chances. the scene below also includes some gorgeous artwork by @ano-ka-ba of drarry kissing in the rain. 10/10 would recommend.

"Over there!" Harry yelled over the cacophonous sound of the rain hitting cars and pavement, waving towards a small awning over the entrance to a closed café. He took off towards cover, half dragging Draco along with him as they picked their way over cobblestones and cracked sidewalks.

☔️ Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by @writcraft with artwork by @celilasart // E // 65K // the magical world of little compton street is so well-developed. writ had drafted this incredible history and soul of this forgotten corner of London. I was totally entranced by this fic, and have the others in the series lined up to read as well!

"I like it.” Harry tips his face up to the rain, ignoring the fact he’s one of Britain’s most powerful wizards in favour of having a moment in the storm. The rain tracks down his cheeks like tears, but his expression is one of pure, unadulterated happiness. A beautiful, messy boy full of contradictions and the fiercest desire to fight, fight, fight.

☔️ To Vanish Into Something Better by @m0srael // E // 35K // I know I've recommended this fic before but try and stop me. It's so good; I remember just feeling the humidity and warmth encompassing me while I read it.

Harry screams into the deafening roar of the rain. How dare the Minister and his DMLE lapdog try and keep Harry penned in and Draco barricaded out. How dare they use Draco like this; hurt him like this. How bloody dare they make Draco believe this was his only option, that he is sacrificing himself and the astounding, perfect world he’s built for the greater good.

☔️ Thunder by @keyflight790 // E // 21K // you'll spend this whole fic begging Draco to take care of himself, to let Harry in. featuring forgiveness and dragons.

"I've got you." Harry's voice filled Draco's ear, louder than thunder, than the rain. Louder than the pounding of the dragon's wings. Louder than Draco's beating heart. Harry's arms wrapped tight around Draco's waist.

More recs (including some art, podfics, & guest recs!) below the cut!

☔️ Saltwater Stain by @the-starryknight // E // 9K // starry's prose is simply poetic, here. you'll feel the rocking of the boat beneath your feet and smell the salt in the air - I got sucked in immediately and know you will too.

They were nearly finished when the rain took to torrent. Suddenly, the air was thick with it, water filling every space where oxygen was meant to land, thick drops choking out the last bit of breathing room. The sky hung even lower, clouds not much higher than the mast.

☔️ It's Raining Drarry by @keepcalmandexpectopatronum934 // E // 5K // a suspicious draco quizzes harry when he turns up naked on his doorstep in the middle of the night. turns into a catalogue of all these two know about each other, very endearing.

At that exact moment, lightning struck and both men broke the kiss, staring out at the rain in surprise as the darkness outside was momentarily illuminated by a blinding white light. Harry’s dreamy expression quickly morphed into one of horror and he stepped out into the rain.

☔️ 1:40AM by @softlystarstruck // T // 4K // perfectly sad with a sweet ending, a gift of a reconciliation textfic from bee.

Draco chokes on his inhale but manages to tell Harry his address, and just as he adjusts his wards there’s a loud pop and Harry is standing in the middle of his living room. Lightning flashes, lighting up his unruly curls, his flannel pajamas, his bare feet.

☔️ A Rainy Day in London by @amarillis39 // E // 2K // NottPott // compact rom-com, so sweet.

"Do you sometimes wonder if it happens in real life?” Potter asked suddenly and Theo turned, waiting for him to elaborate. “You know, like in the books or movies, when you say you’ll meet them on, I don’t know, Blackfriars Bridge, or somewhere. It starts raining, but you wait anyway, and then, just when you think they won’t show up, just when you think it’s over before it even started, deep into the night, you find them standing right behind you, soaked to the bone, with a smile on their face. You both laugh, and then you just kiss, no matter the passers by, no matter the rain.” Potter sounded wistful.

💧In My Solitude Comes Our Rain by @opalesqueopioid // G // 2K // "Opal's writing is always intense in the best of ways, composing unusual worlds and launching us body and mind into them. This fic is exactly that, set amid a rain-filled, lush Tokyo background, and full of intrigue and beautiful wordplay." - starry

The rain in Tokyo is never fresh, and Harry feels like an onsen egg in his Muggle three piece suit, in the heatwave, gently simmering—whereas the thunder rolls crisply down from the night sky, untouched by the sticky fingers of the typhoon.

Artwork & Podfics!

☔️ I plan on getting very wet by @awesomedig // M // art

☔️ Rainy Day by @danasauurrr // G // art

☔️ Under Cover by @shiftylinguini // T // Scorbus // art

☔️ You look at me and I can't breathe by @banana-ge-ge // G // Perciver // art

☔️ Swimming in the Rain by @julietsemophase, podfic by @peony-podfics // T // podfic, 13 minutes

Harry blinked, little rain droplets clinging to his eyelashes. Despite seeing him all the time, Harry wasn’t sure he and Draco had spoken since he and his mother had thanked him after speaking at their trails. “You don’t want to be alone?” he said, coming a little closer.

#booktopus fic recs #april showers #hp fanfiction #drarry #drarry fic #fic rec #scorbus #nottpott #perciver #podfic #rare pair #thunderstorm #rain

135 notes · View notes

dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Fight or Flight

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.

W/C: 2,369

Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing

A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!

PART TWO I Masterlist

____

The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.

Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.

Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.

“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”

Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.

You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.

Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”

Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.

Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.

Two rings and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Did you know?”

The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.

“Liste-”

You hang up.

You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.

“What’s happening, shortstack?”

You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.

“Can I come over? Something happened.”

“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.

____

Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.

When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.

“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.

You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.

“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”

“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.

You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.

He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.

“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.

His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.

There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.

____

Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.

Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.

Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.

He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.

It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?

Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.

____

It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.

You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.

What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.

It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.

What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.

He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.

When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?

You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.

The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.

He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?

You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.

He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.

He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.

You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.

#sweetlysad1kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #tony stark & reader #steve rogers angst #angst #implied cheating #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel x reader

731 notes · View notes

lucytara · 3 years

Note

Yeah I get wanting some variation in your writing and whatnot. Hmm.

Gold. "I defy you. I defy your god. The laws of the universe said my love was gone from me. I said watch me save her." Bumbleby.

Have fun!

it’s possible. that i went. a little overboard with this prompt.

"I defy you. I defy your god. The laws of the universe said my love was gone from me. I said watch me save her."

All four candles are lit in the corners of the small room, wicks burning purple and melting black wax. Her offering sits in a dish at the feet of the small statue - an old, worn piece of paper, bent and torn around its edges - and she herself kneels in the center of the floor, her hands clasped.

“I’ve never done this,” she begins, “but my name is Yang Xiao Long, and I humbly request an audience.”

Nothing happens, though she isn’t sure what she would’ve expected even if it had; the flames flicker with her unsteady heartbeat, the blood in her ears crashing as if waves in a storm. For some reason it’s embarrassing, calling on a higher entity who decides to put you through to voicemail.

She tries again, and aims for theatrical exaggeration; maybe the gods like a bit of a show. If she’s making a fool of herself, she might as well do it brilliantly. “O, Great Goddess! I call upon thee - All-Knowing Ruler of the Dead, Empress of the Night, Most Holy Lady of Darkness, Reigning Queen of Entropy--”

“I think that’s probably enough,” a voice comes from in front of her, amusement evident beneath its tone. “What was that one in the middle? ‘Empress of the Night’? I might keep that.”

Her head whips up towards the sound, and a woman in a deep purple cloak is leaning against her own statue, arms crossed and watching her performance with a look that can only be described as shameless delight. Gorgeous black hair framing golden eyes, like the sky wrapping itself around stars; the statue doesn’t do her justice.

“Oh my God,” Yang says, sitting back on her heels. All the preparation and rehearsing she’d done isn’t enough to conquer the shock of a beautiful, unearthly woman appearing in front of her and--

“Yes, I get that a lot.”

--mercilessly mocking her.

“Well, Yang Xiao Long?” the woman continues. “Why have you called upon me?”

“How do you know my name?” Yang says stupidly.

“I’m a god,” the goddess replies, a smile pulling at a corner of her mouth. “I’m the all-knowing ruler of the dead or whatever. Also, you said your name when you summoned me.”

“Fuck,” Yang says, struggling to regain her composure and failing spectacularly. “I - yeah. Right. Okay. Is it rude to swear in front of gods? And what do I call you?”

“I’ll allow it,” the woman says. “And you can call me Blake.”

“Blake,” Yang repeats; her hands open and close like a nervous tick. The name is a heavy weight in her mouth, settling her into steadiness. “I’ve come to request guidance.”

“Guidance?” Blake repeats, and gently lifts the note from the offering dish, turning it carefully around her hands without opening it to read it - she doesn’t need to. Yang registers faint surprise in her expression; yes, she’d assumed the sentimentality would fetch a rather large price. “This is quite the payment.”

“It’s the last note I have from someone who loved me,” Yang says. “I figured it would be sufficient.”

Those bright, inquisitive eyes glance over to her, and now the playing field has been reversed: intrigue and curiosity outweigh Yang’s atrocious initial delivery.

“Stand, please,” Blake commands softly. “I want to get a good look at you.”

Obediently, Yang rises to her feet, and with an odd jolt realizes she’s a few inches taller than the goddess. It’s unexpected, and it seems to unnerve Blake for a moment, too. Or maybe that’s the candlelight, throwing shapes and colors, turning the room cavernous. Maybe Blake is shrinking and she’s growing. Maybe once she was so tall the entire world trembled beneath her feet.

“You already have power,” Blake says, circling her curiously, and now she’s seeing what isn’t visible, looking for handprints on her soul. “You have been claimed. Whom do you answer to?”

“I didn’t receive this power from a god,” Yang says quietly. “I’ve had it as long as I can remember.”

“That’s impossible,” Blake says, and her gaze is piercing into Yang’s heart; she sees its strength, but she sees its scars, too. And its emptiness. There is plenty of that.

“Touch me,” Yang says. “You’ll find no prior claim.”

“I don’t need to.” Blake takes another step closer to her, the way you’d inspect a painting in a museum. Hands at her sides, cautious of glass and rope. “I can see your aura. But it’s impossible.”

“I’m looking for something,” Yang says, and Blake glances up, briefly meeting her eyes. “I don’t know what it is. But I’ve been looking for something for what feels like my entire life.”

Quizzical, now. One by one the candles are burning down. The room is collapsing in on them, or perhaps that’s simply the god in front of her, looking like she’d dive into Yang’s veins and unravel her if it were permitted.

“Why me?” Blake asks finally. “You know what I’m the goddess of, don’t you?”

“You guard death,” Yang says, her voice impossibly gentle; dusk flows river-like from her mouth. There is a world Blake can almost see. “But you can’t guard death without also guarding life, right? I don’t know what I’m looking for, but whatever it is, I imagine you encompass it.”

“Poetic,” Blake responds, and waits further. “I would like the truth, please. Our time is running short.”

There’s no point in playing games with gods. “The truth is stupid,” Yang says bluntly, and the corner of Blake’s mouth tilts again.

“Try me.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Yang says, and Blake’s eyebrows raise in amusement. Bold, reckless, and absolutely pushing her luck to the furthest corners it can inhabit. “Accept me as yours, and when the time is right, I will tell you the truth.”

“Is the truth that powerful?” Blake says, curious despite herself.

The last candle flutters, throwing shadows from Yang’s eyelashes to her cheek. “I think it is.”

“Welcome back, Empress of the Night,” Ruby says upon her return to the Kingdom, giving her an exaggerated bow. “I hope you enjoyed your summon, My Lady of Perpetual Darkness.”

“What the hell was that about?” Weiss asks. “I haven’t even heard you crack a joke for, like, a millennia, and suddenly you’re the court jester?”

“She was amusing,” Blake says, shrugging. “Usually people are so timid and terrified. I felt like having some fun.”

“You?” Weiss says dubiously.

“Shut up, Weiss,” Ruby says. “You mustn’t speak that way to Our Patron Saint, Duchess of Death.”

“Now you’re not even trying.”

“Don’t you both have work to do?” Blake says, ending the interrogation before it can really begin. She’s not sure she’d have the answers for them, anyway.

Yang journeys east.

Find me again, Blake had said. The closer you get to my temple, the more I can see of you. She’d brushed aside Yang’s bangs, touched a single finger to her forehead. It felt like a teardrop, or a meteor shower. It felt like digging up a grave, or chiseling into stone. It felt like the last explosion. It felt like the first breath.

You are mine, Blake had said, and something about it had felt far too right.

She crosses from Sanus to Anima, spends days traversing forests and mountains, fending off bandits and monsters. Eyes flashing red and fire licking up her skin. Aura glowing golden before breaking. There is something wrong with the trees, she thinks; there is something wrong with the sky. Like I’m looking at them from the wrong side.

Nobody is there to answer her, and not for the first time, she wonders how she came to be so alone.

Blake watches Yang’s power unveil itself from above. Yang is hers, now, and though she can’t make house calls to the world below without a summon, she at least has instant access to her claims. There aren’t many of them, and Yang is different.

It reminds her of the God of Vengeance, almost - how he absorbs power before returning it, strike by vicious strike - but Yang’s is personal, sacrificial. She feels the pain before she can utilize it, and her anger is never cruel, her actions never misplaced. And she doesn’t complain.

Sometimes, Blake wishes she would: she can hear when she’s being talked to, even if she can’t respond. Every prayer, every curse, every devastation, every hope.

She waits for the sound of Yang’s voice, but it never comes.

There’s a small shrine in a village called Shion, which is still weeks out from the docks where she can potentially get a ferry to Menagerie, but the locals are kind, and honor her far too greatly for being touched by their ruling god. They direct her to their place of worship deep in the woods, and leave her without looking back. It’s a sacred thing, a bond between a god and their chosen, and law forbids them from watching her ceremony.

Yang pulls the candle from her pouch, lighting it at the foot of the shrine. She kneels down on the stone, worn with the imprints of a thousand prayers, and says, “Blake.”

“I was wondering when I’d hear from you again.” The voice comes almost immediately, as if its owner had been waiting to be beckoned.

It’s still a bit of a shock, though she’s much better prepared for it this time. “Hi,” Yang says, and stops there before she can fuck it up.

“Hi,” Blake says, and seems to be amused against her will. More guarded, less open. Yang can read the warning signs, but she’ll cut them off at the source.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and she means it, getting to her feet. “If I waited too long to contact you, I mean. I’m...not familiar with this area.”

“Don’t worry,” Blake says, lowering her arms. “It’s only been a few weeks. I won’t smite you until at least a month.”

Yang laughs, and unexpectedly to the both of them, Blake goes deadly still. Her body language says Yang’s done something wrong, but her expression says she’s hearing music.

The candle is burning. The moment can turn itself over gently, if Yang knows how to guide it. She keeps her smile on, but makes it quiet. “You know, I didn’t expect the Goddess of Death to have a sense of humor.”

It seems to work. “I like to surprise people,” Blake says, and moves closer. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“You never talk to me,” she says, pretending to be in control of something she clearly isn’t. “Why not?”

Only the forest speaks for a moment, branches creaking, leaves rustling. And then: “Do you want me to?” Yang asks.

“It’s...something people tend to do,” Blake says slowly. “But not you.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Yang says.

“It’s not a bother.” The words come out too quickly, tone too reassuring. Blake’s own want is what laces the conversation, rather than Yang’s uncertainty. That’s a new, dangerous line.

Yang takes a careful step forward, her eyes lowered to the ground as if in apology; they raise slowly, trailing over Blake’s form until meeting her gaze. Looking for lines she’s crossed, and should step back over; searching for lights that say go. Instead, she only finds an intense, hungry confusion - I want it without understanding what it is.

“You know,” she murmurs, “these statues - they never do you justice.”

And she lifts a hand to Blake’s cheek, hesitating over her skin - is that Blake’s catch of breath, or is it the wind? - before gently cupping it in her palm. She could lose an arm for this; touching a god without being explicitly asked is the greatest sin a mortal can commit, but Blake only stands there, unmoving, eyes wide and lips parted, the moon sitting in the hollow of her throat.

“Blake,” she whispers, and it can only be a god’s strength keeping her voice steady, “I’m never not thinking of you.”

The candle goes out.

Nobody is waiting for her when she returns. This is how gods give each other gifts - by saying, no, I see everything but I didn’t see you.

Yang starts talking to her, and changes her routes so that rather than taking the most direct path to Menagerie, she’s able to stop at some of the smaller shrines on the way. There are only two more, and she hasn’t called Blake since Shion. Yang hopes she’ll still come.

“Isn’t it strange,” Yang says, “how much easier it is to think about someone than to talk about them? I think about you differently than I can talk about you. I don’t even know if that makes sense.”

No response; not that she expects one. At this point, she assumes Blake’ll just kill her if she gets too annoying. Maybe a tree will fall on her, or she’ll do something embarrassing like trip over a rock and break her neck. “I can’t remember much about my life. I know there were people I loved, but I can’t see their faces. I must’ve traveled a lot; I don’t like sitting still. I don’t know how old I am, or even when my birthday is.” She’s never admitted this before; never admitted she came to lying on the ground, with only her name left ringing in her skull and a note in her pocket.

“I think you’re beautiful,” she tells the warm night air. “That’s what I was trying to say. Before. Blake, I think you’re beautiful.”

A star shoots across the sky, light trails leaving imprints against the swirling blue-purple-black of the galaxy, but it must be a coincidence.

Another shrine, another candle. This one burrowed into the side of a mountain, a dome of a room with a hand-woven rug for kneeling, several long benches behind. The statue sits against the far wall, centered.

“They’re getting better,” Yang says, getting to her feet. “This one, at least, gets your eyes right.”

“Hm,” Blake says, pressing her lips together. She moves to stand next to Yang rather than in front of her, and they both examine the statue together. “I suppose you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“Were the compliments too much?” Yang asks, impressed with how light her voice sounds. She nudges Blake’s elbow with her own. Oh, she’ll see how much distance she can cross. She’s already walked miles - she’ll swim oceans, too. “You said you wanted me to talk to you.”

“I didn’t say that,” Blake denies unconvincingly, and then pauses. “And in regards to your first question - I didn’t say that, either.”

Yang could tease her - so even gods like being called pretty, huh - or she could be brave, turn to Blake, take her face in both of her hands and lean in--

“Yang,” Blake says, and does step one of that plan by turning to her. “What do you want from me?”

Maybe the idea’s overwhelmed her to the degree that she can no longer see its risks - its potentially horrible, literally life-ending consequences - and that's what drives her to do it. Maybe it’s that Blake is looking at her like a poem; something beautiful, not to be understood by anyone but the artist who made her.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Yang says, as if it were merely an interesting, hypothetical concept to explore and not the end of the world. “Is that possible, even if you wanted me to?”

This room is warm and close and silent. The clay is cracking where the floor meets the walls. A tunneled-through skylight is the only thing that keeps Blake from swallowing the place in shadows, instead coating them in an amber, dream-like glow. Like if you mixed the two of them together, you’d still be left with light.

“I think,” Blake murmurs, “we’re both going to have to find that out.”

Step two of her plan. Both of her hands cupping Blake’s cheeks. She’s strangely aware of her lifelines - do they mean anything to you, she wants to ask, does my life mean anything to you now and if it doesn’t, will my death - she leans in, their noses brushing, Blake’s breathing as if she needs to, Yang isn’t and she does; teach me about magic, teach me about memory, tell me how I knew you before I knew myself--

Blake kisses her, tired of her caution and hesitancy, lips parting and fists knotting around the fabric of her shirt. Yang expects them to crash together, like comets. She expects them to crumble and collapse under the impact, buried in the ruins of each other and suffocating. She expects them to decay there, reveling in their own destruction.

What she doesn’t expect is sunlight.

Her skin set aflame, Blake’s tongue in her mouth, hands traveling from her face to her lower back and pressing close - somewhere a rule is being written about the gods and desperation - Blake pulls away, gasps, her fingers begging for Yang’s heart.

“This power,” she says, mesmerized, staring at things only she can see, golden gossamer roots running up Yang’s veins. “Where did you get it?”

“I don’t know,” Yang breathes out, and kisses her one last time before the candle burns out. “But I swear I’ve never felt closer to finding out.”

Nobody attempts to stop her from barging through God’s door. Weiss and Ruby, Sun and Neptune; they all avert their eyes. I see everything, but I do not see you.

“What is she?” Blake asks, standing before them with her head bowed. “Please, God. I need to know.”

“If you weren’t already sure,” God says, “you wouldn’t be here.”

She hates it when they’re right.

Yang hits the docks; situated on the outskirts of a fishing village called Ito, and with constant transport to Menagerie, their shrine to Blake is the largest one yet.

“And this one?” Blake asks, before Yang has even begun to pray.

“How did you do that?” Yang says, staring up at her, startled. “Are we, like, super close now?”

“Shut up,” Blake says, but she’s smiling. She extends a hand, helping Yang to her feet. “Your soul calls me. You barely even have to light the candle, anymore.”

The sound of the ocean knocks on the door; the smell tackles the windows. Above, the seagulls are crying out, angry at all the fish they can’t have. Yang says, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Blake says, and kisses her. Soft and chaste. Something so human and so immortal. “I missed you.”

“I’m your favorite, aren’t I?” Yang teases, her fingers catching Blake’s chin in her hands.

“No,” Blake says, and for the first time, smiles with her teeth. Oh, this is happiness. “I do this with everyone who requests my presence. I’m very popular.”

“I can imagine,” Yang says, brushing a thumb across her bottom lip. “So what else are you the god of?”

“You had a few of them right,” Blake says nonchalantly, settling against Yang’s body. She could be taller, if she wanted to be, but there’s so much beauty to see when looking up. “Night, and all things within it. Darkness, shadows. Death.”

“What else?” Yang says, watching her mouth shape every letter.

“Forgiveness, and justice,” Blake murmurs. Oh, there’s a fine print for this, and she’s violating every word. “Promises,” she continues. “Seduction.”

Hook, line - a heavy wave rattles the walls; oh, the sea, the sea! - Yang shudders against her mouth, salt sinking into her blood. Leaves her bouyant and floating, the earth bubbling up beneath her. Rising and rising and rising.

“Shockingly,” Yang says, letting Blake press kisses into the crook of her neck, “I don’t find that hard to believe.”

“God,” Blake finds herself standing before them once again, hands clasped and head bowed. She speaks formally in the presence of God, as is customary of respect. “Please, God. I am supposed to be guiding her, but I fear all I’ve done is lead her astray. I need to know where she came from, and where she is going.”

“Blake,” God says, and touches the top of her head with their hand, “she is close to your temple. Look at her, and tell me what you see.”

Menagerie is a busy, populated island, and Blake’s temple is the primary reason for that. Pilgrimages are made from around the world to pray at her shrine and leave offerings at her feet. Protect me from loss, help me navigate my grief, let me fulfill my promise.

Yang is none of those things. And when the keepers of the temple ask the reason for her journey, she says, “I am in love with her.”

“You have been touched,” one says, and bows to her upon entry. “You have as long as the goddess is willing to give you.”

The heavy doors close, but the room shimmers, firelight glittering over golden-accented walls. A large moon is carved into the marble floor, crossing over a sun. Before her is the largest, most intricately carved statue of Blake she’s ever seen, and it looks exactly like her.

Yang kneels.

“You know,” Blake says from behind her, “you don’t have to do that anymore.”

“No,” Yang says. “But it - it’s been a long journey. And I’m only here because of you.”

Blake’s footsteps echo, her boots stopping at the north point of the sun. “How do you feel?”

It’s enough to make Yang smile. “I know you heard me,” she says pointedly, but her amusement is apparent. “You hear everything I say.”

“I thought I’d give you the chance to tell me yourself.”

For the last time, Yang rises to her feet. Blake’s eyes glitter, mischievous and playful. She looks as she always has, but clearer, somehow; defined and resolute. She carries the truth in the way she extends a hand, in the way she searches for Yang’s mouth. When they kiss, Yang swears she can see another world.

“I’ll tell you something better,” Yang says. “The truth.”

She leans down, bumps their foreheads together. Blake’s arms loop around her neck automatically. Oh, Yang thinks, if I were the god of anything, I’d want it to be habits.

“So what’s the truth?” Blake asks.

“The truth,” Yang says unshakably, “is that it was you. I woke up with no memory and a note, and somehow, I knew I had to find you. The only thing I’ve been searching for is you.”

It’s you, she says. It’s you. You. You.

“God,” Blake says, and this time God is ready for her.

“Blake Belladonna,” God says, and inclines their head. “Come. Show me what you have.”

In her hands is a small slip of paper, worn and ripped around the edges. “It is a note,” she says, and unfolds it gingerly. “It is a note, God, in my handwriting.”

“And what does it say?” they ask.

“Find me,” Blake recites, “and I promise I’ll bring you home.”

“Well,” God says whimsically, “you are the Goddess of Promises.”

Tears build in the corners of her eyes, shipwrecks gaining water. “Yang,” Blake whispers, and now that she is close, she can see everything. Meteors falling from their showers; the day the sun went out. “Yang. I’m sorry. I’m so, so--”

“Shh,” Yang murmurs, pressing her lips into Blake’s hair. “What are you apologizing for? I found you, and you brought me home.”

“Oh, this is exciting,” God says. “I so rarely get to come to Remnant on business.”

“God,” Yang says, and bows her head. The temple doors remain locked; Blake’s hand is clutched tightly in her own. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you, Yang Xiao Long,” says God. “You fell in the last war, over five-hundred years ago. Do you remember this?”

“Yes,” she says. “I was trying to protect my sister.”

“And what happens when a god falls?”

“We forget them,” Blake says. “Their power is forfeit; they are erased from our memories, and our world.”

“It is not a law of justice, but a law of reality,” God says. “Or it was, previously. Only you did not forget immediately, Blake Belladonna. I did not know it was possible for two souls to be so intrinsically bound that they leave traces in the other, but you did not forget, just long enough to leave her a message. It took five hundred years for Yang to fall to earth, and when she awoke, she did not forget, either.

“Gods are made, and this means that what we are gods of can change,” they continue. “Blake, you were not previously the Goddess of Death. You became it because you believed that Yang had died, and no god had as strong a connection to loss as you. Your power became a beacon, just as it now will be a beacon for Remembrance.

“And you, Yang Xiao Long,” God says. “Goddess of the Sun, of Loyalty, of Sacrifice. You were many things. And now you are the Goddess of Rebirth.”

#Anonymous #bumbleby #rwby fic prompts #rwby fic

647 notes · View notes

selfproducingfanfictionauthor · 3 years

Text

BTS Scenario: An omega arrives in your pack (Hyungline x alpha/beta fem!reader)

Summary: An omega joining a pack is a blessing - an unmated one is a miracle. So when the village elder came to you not with authority in her eyes but pity and pleading for understanding, you had no choice but to let him go.

Or, an omega joins the pack and you’re an alpha/beta in a relationship with another alpha. The community asks for your sacrifice. Warnings/Notes: Implied Smut, slight ass play, Angst, Drabble (no resolution... yet) I wanted to explore a different dynamic in the ABO Universe, since it’s usually Alpha BTS x Omega Reader but how about the Beta or even the Alpha reader? Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 2k+ (500 per drabble)

KIM SEOKJIN

(after he’s called to participate in the matching, and Jungkook is an unmated male omega who’s always had a crush on you) (though crush is a understatement)

He’s here for a final goodbye, you think as you allow him to push you back against the wall.

He kisses you with desperation, all teeth and tongue, as if he wants to devour you whole. He reeks of her but you push it at the back of your mind, together with your instinct to gain the upper hand.

If this is goodbye, let it be as soft as you two could be.

You close your eyes to blink back the tears and wrap your arms around his neck. You match his passion kiss after kiss until you both are panting, breathing in each other.

Seokjin slows it down and pulls at your shirt, slipping it off your head. His eyes are wan, and he hasn’t met your gaze the whole time. It feels wrong, but then again, everything is.

So you try to bring back some normalcy and let the urgency in your touch show. Your arms slid down his shoulder, pushing him back into your room, your strength easily matching his.

In the dark of the room, you tug at his shirt but Seokjin grasps your hand away from his chest. You thought he’s going to lead you to his cock just as he did many times before, but he pulls you closer until there’s no more space between your chest and his and leads your hand to his hole.

He’s dry as the dessert but her pushes your hand closer, until your fingers tap his puckered hole.

You can feel him force himself not to tense up, breathing deeply and dropping his head to your shoulder. His back is caved over you, like a tall child and he turns to graze his lips against your ear.

“I’ll let you fuck me too, if that’s what you want, jagi.”

Your eyes widen and you try to pull your hand away but he holds it still. Your other hand tries to push his chest away but his other arm wraps around your shoulder blades, unwilling to let go.

He keeps still in the crook of your neck, murmuring words you never imagined you’ll hear from the alpha, “I’ll moan like he did. Beg like he did.” His voice shakes, and you startle at the tears wetting your skin. It doesn’t even occur to you to wonder how he knew about Jungkook, and what had transpired the night before because here he is.

He’s crying. Your alpha is crying.

“Just please don’t leave me.”

MIN YOONGI

(Your love for Yoongi knows no bounds, you can give him this. In which your arranged marriage is thwarted.)

“It’s a good thing we’re not bonded yet, huh?”

You try not to wince at the relief in his voice and instead you laugh, hoping that the dark is enough to conceal the wobble on your lip.

You are both lying on your bed, exhausted by your hours long of… what do you call it again? Ah, he did call it his favorite recreational activity. He figured sexual compatibility is an important factor in arrange marriages earlier on your engagement.

And you, in love with him for more than half your life, said yes.

His fingers are playing with your hair, while his other hand lifts a lit cigarette to his lips. He glances down at you, his cat-like eyes half-lidded.

“You want a smoke?”

Pulling the blanket higher to your chest, relishing in the slight flicker of interest in his eyes, you shake your head. “Actually, can you not smoke on my bed tonight?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow but says nothing and puts out his cigarette against the ash tray on your bedside table. Usually, you take up on his offer, and he’s not gonna lie and say that the image of your lips around a cigarette doesn’t stir his cock alive.

“Not feeling well?” He asks, the only time you refused his offer was whenever you’re feeling the drop after your activities. But usually, you’ll tell him outright, communication being as open as you both could.

You let a small smile touch your lips at his tone. He cares for you, you know, maybe not as much as you want him to, but it’s enough.

Or it used to be enough.

“Just a mild migraine,” you lie before pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

Yoongi smiles and kisses the crown of your head, “You know what cures migraines?”

Your smile grows wider as you look up to his grin, his hand already sliding down the small of your back under your blankets. “I think I have an idea.”

By the time he’s pulled out 3 more orgasms from you, the moon has started fading from the night sky. The brisk winter air entering your room by the open window, drawing goosebumps on your skin.

Beside you, Yoongi sits up and pulls his shirt over his head.

“You’re not staying the night?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “The trials start the day after tomorrow, I’ve got to get a head start.”

Your press your lips together, your hand sneaking down your belly. You imagine your child, the size of a pea, hoping they do not hear your breaking heart. “I thought you didn’t like being choices taken away from you.”

That was one of the major points of discussion when your parents arranged your marriage. It’s also a source of your many arguments at the start, before slowly becoming some sort of unwanted roommate in your makeshift relationship.

Yoongi pauses, there’s something in your voice that he can’t pinpoint. He turns to you, for once, you are unreadable. “This is different.”

“Oh,” you breathe. How so, you want to ask. How come a choice robbed by our secondary natures so much different than the ones robbed by our parents? How come it’s the lesser evil in your eyes?

How come I was never a palatable choice in the first place?

But you don’t. Instead, Yoongi presses on. “At least now, you know, if it turns out that it’s me, you’re free. You can go to university just like you want.”

“Yeah…” you chuckle dryly, “Well, good luck then.”

You don’t beg him to stay, you’re an alpha too and an alpha protects their pack. As your hand travels down to your belly again, you remember - you have your own to protect now too.

JUNG HOSEOK

(You’re just his best friend. What can you say?)

“She smells like lilacs! No, wait, honey! Honey and cream.” Hoseok sighs, all lovestruck on your couch over the new omega girl in town.

As part of the search party that found her, he hasn’t stopped talking about her for weeks. Giving you updates on her recovery in the beginning, and then her smile, her eyes, and the way she laughs as time went by.

At first, you didn’t mind. An omega joining the pack is a blessing, given their rarity. They symbolize fertility and bounty, and you are nothing if not loyal to the community. You foster the village children as their teacher, you teach them the ropes of the land - how to feed the cows, how to plant the seeds, and how to prepare for harvest - after all.

But as time went by, as Hoseok’s visits to her home frequent and his visits to yours lessen, it’s become harder and harder to keep the bitter thoughts away. Hoseok may still visit you, but when was the last time you two talked about anything other than her?

“The trials for her mate starts next week,” Hoseok starts, almost as if waiting for you to say something, “I’m thinking of participating.”

From the kitchen, you tighten your hold on the tray balancing your tea and snacks. Without a wobble, you inquire as you step back into your living room, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he picks up one of your cookies, suddenly looking all bashful, “I’m unmated and I’m not getting younger so, might as well give it a shot you know?”

You frown behind your tea cup, “We’re barely past our mid-20s, Seok-ie, that hardly qualifies as old.”

Hoseok leans back and tilts his head on the back of your couch until it hangs in relaxation. “It’s different between you and I.”

It’s true, betas are not so pressured to reproduce early. After all, there’s nothing special to be had in your genes, you think bitterly.

“Besides,” he continues, “I think I like her. You know, maybe we should invite her next time we hang out! You can get to know her too!”

“I’d rather not.” It spills over your lips before you could control it, and Hoseok stiffens before turning his gaze to you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re jealous.” Hoseok teases, unaware at how his words hit home.

You stiffen, biting your lip before the dam breaks. “Maybe I am.” you whisper.

He blinks in surprise at the feebleness of your tone, “B-but… you’re a beta.”

You know. You know your place, in this village and in his life but somehow it’s different hearing it from him. Standing, you turn away to step back into your kitchen when a hand grasps your wrist.

“I don’t understand.” Hoseok whispers, trying to look up to your face but thwarted by your hair. He doesn’t need to see your watering eyes to know there are tears in them. He’s reeling from the sudden change of atmosphere, smelling your distress in the air.

Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by the sense of inferiority and your heart caves into itself. With the last of your strength, you shake off his hold, pointing to the door.

“I think it’s best you leave.”

KIM NAMJOON

(Namjoon has always been a man of duty, and though you are tough and strong, there are limits to what you can and will endure)

You pride yourself to be level-headed, calm, and objective unlike many of the alphas in the pack. You’ve never lost your control, or flown into fury even during your youth but at this very moment, you summon all your discipline to keep your lips from pulling back and snarling at the older alpha in front of you.

How dare she?

How dare they ask this of you?

“It is his duty.” She repeats and beside you, Namjoon is silent. Eyes straight ahead, back as rigid as the trees outside your home. The home that you two built for your children that will come after your wedding.

The wedding that’s supposed to be in a month.

But the longer Namjoon stays silent, the farther that future seems to be. By the time the elder leaves your home, you don’t even see a speck of it in your mind’s eye.

The silence continue as you clean up the cups and uneaten rice cakes. The silent clink of the utensils echoing in your quaint home.

As you wash the dishes, you feel like an outsider watching your body go through the motions. Scrubbing the plate clockwise, once, twice, three times, before running it under the faucet. Next, you pick up the cups, here, clockwise, once, twice —

“It is my duty,” you hear Namjoon, and oh, he’s beside you, hand on your wrist, pulling your hands away from the frigid waters, “you know that, right?”

As one of the strongest and wisest alphas this pack has ever seen in generations, your betrothal to Namjoon was tolerated at best. Alpha bondings are common nowadays, with the scarcity of omegas. So yes, your betrothal was tolerated - just tolerated, even with you being as strong and as wise as your betrothed - but now?

With that young omega in the picture?

They are making you feel as if you’ve committed a grave sin against the community, as if it’s not within your rights to rage against the unfairness of it all.

They’re asking you for your love.

And he’s so willing to be taken away. Your heart breaks but you nod quietly, “I know. I understand.”

Namjoon stupidly thought that was the end of it. That you knew he’ll always come back to you, omega or not.

Maybe he was naive, or he truly was selfish to ask it of you but when he gets home the week after the trials to a dark cold house the surprise knocks him to his knees and drops his heart to his stomach.

You left the kitchen untouched, his mug still next to yours but, Namjoon pauses at the threshold of your room. There, glinting under the moonlight, sits your ring and the last of your scent wafts away.

END NOTES: Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know if this should have a second (or even third) part! :)

465 notes · View notes

psycopath06 · 3 years

Text

Secretary Part 2: Volturi Kings x Neutral!Reader

A/n: (f/s) = favorite scent, (2/f/s) = 2nd favorite scent, (3/f/s) = 3rd favorite scent. The parentheses next to the quotes are the translation to any words that are in Italian.

Tags: @peachymelon69 @schroedingershund

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I opened my eyes and looked around. I felt like death, was I dead? Did they kill me in my sleep? If I'm dead than this must be hell because it still looks like my room in the castle. Seriously death? Couldn't you give me a break?

I sighed and got up to look around, but as I passed the mirror I turned around immediately to look at myself. I was a lot paler than I remember, I looked like I just walked off a runway. The worst part was I had those damn red eyes that the vampires had. Am I really dead or did they turn me?

I turned to my door at the sound of footsteps suddenly appearing outside my door. Then Aro walked in with Marcus and Caius at his sides.

"You changed me?!" I screamed beyond frustrated with them at this point.

"Yes, that was what we told you would happened if you took the job." Aro said matter-of-factly.

"You never kept your word to that before with the other secretaries! Why am I the one you changed?!" I screeched angrily at him. I couldn't get a nice peaceful death, now I can't die. These vampires suck!

"That's simple Caro, you just haven't figured it out yet." (Dear) Aro said playfully, like this was all one big game to him.

"Why I oughta" I growled and lunged at him, but was stopped by Caius pulling me into his chest. Before I could think of a way to curse him out, I stopped as I caught a whiff of Caius. Why did he suddenly smell like (f/s)? It was a very nice scent and it was making my brain fuzzy.

Before I could stop myself, I was giggling and giving a genuine smile. I snuggled into Caius' chest enjoying his scent.

"There we go. Take it easy, Tesoro." (Treasure) Caius whispered sweetly to me. I honestly didn't want to let go of him. Besides he smelled amazing, this was a side I never saw of Caius. Actually, the kings were all acting strange since last night.

Marcus was being playful and less depressing, Aro showed the most genuine concern I have ever seen him give, and Caius was mostly quiet last night, but now he was cuddling with me. What the hell was happening?

I tried to breathe in more of Caius' scent but something else caught my interest. Marcus smelled like (2/f/s) and Aro smelled like (3/f/s). What was happening to me?

"What's going on?" I finally asked, after collecting my thoughts. Aro stretched out his hand so I put mine in his on instinct. He then wrapped both his hands around my hand. Marcus had moved closer and was messing with my hair. I leaned into the new touch, enjoying the attention from the both of them.

Aro chuckled at my thoughts from when I woke up. "You can now feel the mating bound Caro. Now you know why your no longer our secretary. I'm shocked it took you this long to feel anything."

I looked at him confused and he answered my unspoken question. "We vampires have a bond with a human or another vampire which is called the mating bond. It's very similar to a human soul mate. It's something Caius, Marcus, and I have shared for centuries." Aro now held an actual sweet smile on his face at that thought. "When you came to be our secretary, Marcus saw our bond was also connected to you but throughout the entire week that you worked for us, you never showed interest, simply trying to stay alive and not anger us. That would be normal if you only had one mate but you have all three of us."

Caius and Marcus started to purr at Aro mentioning the bond, clearly they enjoyed the thought of a mate. I had even started to purr because of them.

Aro continued, "The more mates a human has, the more of a need to be near those mates the human will have. Vampires have a more intense reaction to having a mate then humans do. That is why you went from trying to kill me to cuddling Caius." Aro stated as he watched how I was reacting to Marcus and Caius. "We originally thought it was because Caius was being harsh on you."

That reminded me, "Why were you such an asshole to me while I was the secretary?" I asked Caius, while looking up at him.

"The lower gaurds have less tolerance to humans." He stated before Marcus interrupted him.

"That's putting it lightly, Carissimo." (Dearest) Marcus mumbled into my ear. This caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. I knew it wasn't Marcus' intent of scarring me but to tell me that I was walking on extremely thin ice with the lower gaurd around because I existed scared me.

Caius lightly growled at him for freaking me out, but he continued with what he was saying. "If you made even one mistake infront of them, they would have either killed you or choked you out while promising to kill you." He said, while trying to soothe my nerves by scenting my neck.

"Why not tell the gaurds about me then?" I asked, annoyed that they wouldn't want to keep me safe because I was their human mate. I moved away from them and sat on my bed, I didn't want them touching me anymore

"It was too much of a risk if the entire gaurd knew. Some would want to use your life in order to get a higher statues in the gaurd or to get revenge on us for killing someone they knew that they deemed innocent, but we killed." Marcus gently replied. I was surprised they weren't trying to force me to be affectionate towards them.

"The elite guard are aware of you, they kept watch over you incase a lower gaurd decided to mess with you." Aro tried to ease my annoyance of them.

I finally dropped it and went over to the window to help me process everything. This was a lot when all I wanted was a job to get myself out of my financial hole.

As I looked out at the garden below my room I caught sight of sparkles in my peripheral vision. I moved my arm around in the light finding it fascinating that my skin was now extremely sparkly.

I heard my mates chuckle, next thing I knew I had Marcus next me telling me about how our venom causes us to sparkle instead of combusting into flames. It was odd to see the kings sparkling like glitter bombs and being caring instead of depressed, creepy, and angry all the time. Maybe being a vampire wasn't so bad if I had them by my side.

#volturi x reader #aro volturi x reader #aro volturi imagine #aro volturi #marcus volturi imagine #marcus volturi #marcus volturi x reader #caius volturi #caius volturi x reader #caius volturi imagine

446 notes · View notes

ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-Seven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: working a full time job + part time job tutoring english + applying for scholarships + still having free time left is a lot harder than i thought it would be. which is my way of saying this chapter should've been done a week ago lol.

i call this my goodbye chapter b/c goodbyes are made.

***

As Nesta brings the last of her things into the cabin, Azriel takes the last of his stuff out.

Standing beside Cassian, Nesta watches Azriel shut the trunk over the final box of his belongings. With all the extra stuff he stole from the cabin, it almost seemed like everything wouldn’t fit into his tiny car, but here he is. Ready to go.

He dusts off his leather jacket and approaches her and Cassian. “This is goodbye,” he says, coming to a stop before them.

Nesta once thought this would be the happiest day of her life, second to her wedding day. She should have predicted that her rightful joy would be extinguished by sentimentality.

Cassian claps Azriel on the shoulder, the two brothers having already said their goodbyes in private. Still, Nesta can see a little sorrow in Cassian’s eyes, as if he also got too used to having Az around all the time.

Azriel, the dick, reveals nothing through his eyes. Neither does Nesta.

The two of them look at each other awkwardly for a moment, and then he comes in to hug her. Nesta hugs him back, arms crossing around his broad back, but it has the same stiffness as two Barbie dolls being made to kiss each other.

When Azriel tries to pull away, Nesta clutches him to her with surprising strength. “I know about the picture,” she says lowly in his ear.

“Too late to take it back now.” She might feel him smile on top of her hair.

Nesta lets go of Azriel swiftly, having had enough physical contact with him to last a year. “Drive safe, so Elain can find you in one piece,” she orders.

Azriel grimaces at that, reminded of what waits for him in Velaris. Whatever Elain decides to give him, it’ll probably be deserved.

“I’ll get going then.” Az starts backing away, and Nesta hears Cassian sniffle. She looks toward her boyfriend in concern, but he circles his huge arms around her shoulders and pulls her back to his chest before she can catch him getting teary-eyed.

They watch Azriel get in his car and drive away. Nesta waves until the car disappears fully into the thickness of the surrounding trees, waves until her arms are too tired to keep going.

Once Az is gone, she turns in Cassian’s embrace and jumps up into his arms. Her legs hook around his hips and his hands fit themselves under her thighs. She smiles and tells him, “Let’s go home.”

Ten minutes later, they find themselves sitting in the silence of the kitchen. It’s the quiet of a house adjusting to a missing person, and Azriel’s absence is tangible.

Cassian is the first to break the silence. “Do you think he’s past city limits by now?” he asks as he stirs his coffee.

“No.” Nesta turns the page of her book, focused on reading. “Not if he stopped by Gwyn’s before leaving.”

She hears Cassian stop stirring. “What does that mean?” he says.

Nesta looks up at him and shrugs. “It means he probably wants to say goodbye to her.”

***

“One charge of assault, one for battery, and one huge lawsuit against my company,” Rhys reads aloud from the file in front of him.

Cassian waves a hand in dismissal. “Just make it go away like you always do.”

Rhysand’s near-violet eyes narrow with barely restrained rage. “Cassian. You shattered an employee’s hand.”

“Hey, O’Connell.” Cassian strolled up to him early last Monday morning. The underground parking lot was near empty at this hour, since most workers wouldn’t come in until nine. “How was the rest of your weekend?”

O’Connell looked up from getting his bag out of his car, clearly surprised to see Cassian willingly make small talk with him. “It was good,” he answered lightly. “You left Velaris early, though.”

“Yeah, about that.” Cassian came to a stop by O’Connell’s car and held out his hand, catching the car door before it could be shut. “I had to take my girlfriend home.”

O’Connell looked confused, but nodded along. “That’s nice. Can you—?” He gestured at the car door, indicating to Cassian to let go.

Cassian didn’t. “What hand did you use?”

“Excuse me?”

“When you touched her,” Cassian clarified. “What hand did you use when you touched her?”

O’Connell’s look of confusion morphed into one of contempt. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”

“Nesta Archeron.” Cassian straightened up, hand tightening over the top of the car door. “Your old college friend.” Realization dawned across O’Connell’s face, but he still hadn’t answered Cassian’s question.

“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll have to take my pick.” Cassian clicked his tongue in disappointment. “You’re left-handed, aren’t you?” He snatched up O’Connell’s left hand, and in a flash O’Connell was pressed up against the car, his hand pinned to the doorframe.

“Hey, wait, what are you—” O’Connell protested.

The sound of a car door slamming shut on a hand was louder than Cassian expected. It was the crunch of bones and muscle followed by immediate screaming.

“It could have been worse,” Cassian said flatly over O’Connell’s cries of pain. “It could have been your tongue, since you like talking shit so much.”

Cassian blinks out of the memory. “So what if I did?” he shrugs in response to Rhys.

“You are a member of my inner circle,” Rhysand fumes. “Keith O’Connell is a respected figure in our industry and a higher up from Vanserra and Co., and the head of our Milan outpost, but you saw fit to take out justice on him without asking me first.”

“You had nothing to do with it.”

“That is not up to you!” Rhysand jabs a finger at Cassian. “What will our shareholders think when they hear about this? What will the board members say?”

Cassian is starting to get irritated now. “They won’t find out, because you won’t tell them,” he says firmly. “We both know you’ve covered up worse things to fit your agenda, but it’s a problem if I don’t want a creepy bastard working under my jurisdiction?”

Having learned most of his business tricks from his father, Rhys is no perfectly clean CEO himself. He would’ve done far worse to O’Connell if it was Feyre in Nesta’s place, and he would have ended it all with a speech about how abusers and their sympathizers have no place at Night Court Inc.

The thought only inflames Cassian more; maybe he’s still riding off the anger of O’Connell making Nesta cry.

Tempering his feelings, he tells Rhys, “When you’re done shutting O’Connell up,” because Rhys would do it no matter how angry he pretended to be, “make sure Nesta never finds out about this.”

Rhys sits back in his chair, a bitter smirk pulling at his mouth. “Afraid she’ll be horrified of what a brute her sweet boyfriend is?”

Cassian nearly snorts at the image of Nesta recoiling at a broken hand. She’d probably call him weak for not shoving O’Connell into a ravine. “No,” he answers tiredly. “It’s not violence that offends her, but if she finds out it was in her name… I don’t want to put that on her shoulders.” Which is a shame, because in any other situation Nesta would love to hear about the unfortunate circumstances that led to O’Connell quitting his job.

Rhys lets loose a long sigh. “Damn, you both scare me.” After a few moments, he asks, “Now what are we going to do about Milan?”

***

Life after moving in with Cassian passes by quickly, and before Nesta knows it, she’s completed her second year of law school.

As for the boys who were some of her first friends and drinking companions, back when Nesta barely knew the definition of a friend—today they complete their final year of law school.

Nesta fans herself with the pamphlet she was handed at the beginning of the graduation ceremony, trying to stop the harsh morning sun from melting the makeup off her face. The audience is packed like sardines onto one huge field, and the announcer on stage hasn’t even reached the last names that start with D. Eris, Justinian, and Isaac are all near the bottom of the alphabet.

“Do we really need to be here today?” Nesta murmurs to Emerie, squirming in her metal foldout chair.

Sitting at her right, Emerie throws her a scolding look. “Don’t be like that. We’re never going to see these guys again.”

Nesta sincerely doubts that, considering how none of the guys are moving more than a few hours away. But her uterus is raising hell right now, even though her new meds have put a stop to her periods. Paired with the ache in her back from these terrible chairs, she’s about to call it quits and go straight home.

“Nesta!”

She whips her head to the left, finding Elain striding through the row of chairs to reach the empty seat beside her.

Like watching the Red Sea part, everyone in the row pulls their feet back and makes themselves as small as possible so Elain can have a clear walkway.

Nesta moves the purse she used to save Elain’s seat aside, and Elain drops her butt onto the little foldout chair like it’s a throne.

“A little warm for an outdoor ceremony, don’t you think?” Elain fans her face.

“You didn’t have to come all the way here, you know,” Nesta says.

“Eris made me. I haven’t talked to him since I broke up with his brother, but I think he wants to look like he has a lot of friends here.”

“Yeah, that checks out,” Emerie mutters from Nesta’s other side.

Elain seems to take notice of Emerie for the first time, and her Southern charm turns on like a switch. “Oh my, I don’t think we’ve met.”

Elain introduces herself and Emerie does the same, smiling and nodding politely, and Nesta can’t even decide if she likes this crossover because she’s too busy massaging her aching abdomen.

A string of “Excuse me, sorry!”s go up in the row they’re sitting in, and a moment later a familiar face plops down on the chair to Emerie’s right.

Gwyn leans over Emerie and holds a bottle of Advil out to Nesta. “This is all I could find in my car, babe.”

Nesta releases a sigh of relief and snatches the bottle. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Elain’s gaze moves to the medicine, then to Gwyn. “You must be Gwyn.” She offers a smile. “I’m Nesta’s sister, Elain.”

Gwyn’s eyes widen imperceptibly, and Nesta realizes she should have warned Gwyn that Elain would be here.

Going off how Gwyn’s been acting the last few weeks, Nesta can only assume that she influenced Azriel’s final decision to move away, whether directly or indirectly. Nesta doesn’t even know much about what happened between the two of them during their weird sex deal, considering that she and Gwyn promised to never discuss such horrible things with each other.

All Nesta knows is that Azriel is Gwyn’s closest male friend, and close friends that have also slept together probably don’t want to bump into each other’s exes without warning.

“Are you here to see Eris graduate, too?” Elain asks.

Gwyn looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Who? Oh—no, I’m just here so we can drive to brunch together after.” Her voice gets quieter with each word, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nice to meet you,” she adds in a murmur, her face a furious shade of red. She quickly looks forward at the stage as if the graduation ceremony is the most fascinating thing ever.

Elain doesn’t note the odd behavior, instead refocusing on the Advil pills that Nesta pops into her mouth and swallows dry. “Are you still hurting?” Elain says, furrowing her thin brows. “I thought you got that problem fixed.”

Nesta tries not to snort as she accepts the bottle of water that Emerie wordlessly passes her. “You can’t ‘fix’ endometriosis, Elain. That’s not how it works.”

“Oh. Well how was I supposed to know that?”

Nesta slides unamused hooded eyes to her sister. Before she can retort anything, Emerie elbows her hard. “Look, it’s Isaac!”

She refocuses on the ceremony, cheering and clapping half-heartedly as Isaac takes the stage. It’s not that she doesn’t care about her study buddies; it’s just that she feels like shit right now.

Justinian follows suit a few minutes later, grinning and waving when he spies Emerie cheering for him. Gwyn is distracted on her phone through all of it.

The Advil has finally started to kick in when Nesta murmurs to Elain, “How is Azriel adjusting to being back in the city?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Elain answers innocently. “I haven’t seen much of him since he returned.”

“Just spill it,” Nesta says. “Azriel wouldn’t tell me anything, so I’m assuming he’s humiliated about it.”

Elain sighs, delicately pushing her hair behind her shoulder. “He came to me to talk. I heard him out, and then we went back to his apartment for coffee, and then I took my fabric scissors and cut out the crotch from all his pants.”

Nesta raises a brow. “All of them?”

“All of them.”

Nesta shrugs, turning back to face the stage. “It’s good enough. I could have done worse.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not me, isn’t it?” Elain snips.

Nesta won’t say it, but she supposes she is a little happy for Elain. In fact, she thinks this might be the first time Elain has stood up for herself instead of letting Nesta handle it.

After the ceremony is over, Emerie goes off to congratulate Isaac and Justinian. Gwyn follows so she can get away from Elain, and Nesta, being sweaty and overstimulated and more than ready to leave, settles for waving her arms and grinning at the boys from across the field.

She’s about to say goodbye to Elain and make a beeline for the parking lot when she spots a head of shining red hair approaching her. No—make that two heads.

Eris looked unbearably snooty as he received his degree, likely smug with the fact that he has a comfortable job at a family friend’s corporate law firm lined up for him after he passes the Bar. Nesta admits that she’s a little disappointed in him: after all his talk of working hard and being the smartest person in the room, he ended up riding his father’s coattails to a disgustingly high salary. But maybe that is hard work for him, considering that there was such a ruckus in the Vanserra family when he chose to go into law instead of business.

As for Lucien… Well, Nesta really has no idea what the kid does, but she knows he looks good, better than the last time she saw him. An early summer tan makes him glow in comparison to his brother, while lean forearms are revealed under the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt. He looks comfortable in a way he wasn’t at Thanksgiving all those months ago.

Even with his ex standing just a few feet away.

“Elain,” Lucien greets her with a foxlike smile.

Elain rolls her eyes in response and turns to Eris. “Congratulations on graduating, hun. Now that we’re even, kindly delete my number from your phone and never call me again.”

Even? Nesta raises a brow, wondering what that could possibly mean.

“I take it this is goodbye?” Eris tells her.

“I’m already leaving,” Elain says sweetly. She blows a kiss at Eris, then Nesta. “Feel better soon,” she chirps at her, before striding away in her pastel pink heels.

Very jealous of Elain getting to escape before she can, Nesta calls after her, “Hot date to catch?” She’s wearing the signature perfume she usually does when meeting with a man.

Elain tosses over her shoulder, “Something like that.” Her purse swings as she disappears around a corner to the parking lot.

Nesta watches her go with envy, and when she turns back she finds Eris already looking at her. Meanwhile, Lucien still has his eyes glued to the spot where Elain disappeared.

“You feel sick?” Eris asks her.

“No thank you, I have a boyfriend,” Nesta replies on instinct.

Eris scoffs once in indignation, then twice. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he says with disbelief. “I can care about my friends, you know.”

“You want her,” Lucien mutters.

Nesta’s eyes snap to Lucien, who seems to be acknowledging her presence for the first time today. “And what do you want?” She tilts her head at him, intrigued at having a new playmate. He’s less predictable than Eris, at the very least.

Lucien looks at her and offers a sheepish smile. “Nothing you can give me.”

Eris rolls his eyes at the both of them, clearly regretting bringing his brother along with him. “I’m already bored of this conversation,” he laments. “I’m out; the D.A. is here and I want to say hi. Find me when you’re done, punk.” Eris bonks Lucien on the head with his rolled up diploma and starts walking away, only pausing to extend a mocking bow to Nesta. “We’re not over yet, Archeron,” he calls as he leaves.

Now it’s Nesta’s and Lucien’s turn to roll their eyes.

With only the two of them left, Nesta feels obliged to ask awkwardly, “So… how’ve you been?”

Lucien’s gaze slides to her. “I didn’t know you were Elain’s sister,” he says.

She huffs a laugh. “I didn’t know you were her ex at first, either. Does it matter?”

Lucien’s mouth turns down in thought, but he doesn’t answer her question. “I’m doing good,” he says in response to her former question instead. “I’ve been living the nomad life, traveling around with friends, roadtripping in a van.”

But would you come home for Elain? Nesta can’t help but wonder.

She didn’t know Lucien had dated Elain until after her first meeting with him, but even then it had been something of a throwaway detail. Elain dates lots of guys, and falls in love with even more of them. She seemed to barely remember Lucien’s name when Nesta first brought it up in front of her.

But for some inexplicable reason, Nesta genuinely likes Lucien. A part of her recognizes something similar in a part of him, and it makes her sad to imagine him being stuck on a girl who won’t think about him twice.

“Take my advice,” Nesta tells him bluntly, “and move on if you haven’t yet. Staring after Elain when she already broke up with you will get you nowhere.” Elain isn’t the type to ever look back, and she never falls for the same man twice.

Lucien just looks at Nesta with a blank face. “I broke up with her,” he says.

Nesta’s mouth falls open.

“And,” he adds, “I was staring at her ass.” He starts walking backwards to his brother, giving Nesta an innocent grin as he leaves. “It was nice meeting again. See you in another six months.”

Nesta is dumbfounded watching him go, not knowing what to do with this new knowledge. As far as she knows, no one has ever broken up with Elain except for Azriel—and that ended in Az losing all of his pants.

It only occurs to Nesta that she shouldn’t have let Lucien get away with that ass comment when Emerie and Gwyn suddenly appear at her side, each of them interlocking an arm with hers. “You feeling better?” Emerie inquires cheerfully. “Ready to go?”

Nesta nods slowly, forcefully putting Lucien Vanserra and his too-sly demeanor out of her mind. He isn’t her problem right now. Summer is already here with a vengeance, and she’ll only have so much free time with the people she loves most. So she chooses to focus only on them.

Tugging her friends closer and squeezing their arms, Nesta asks, “Where are we eating?”

***

a/n: this needs sooo much more editing lol i could have done a lot more with this chapter if i wasn’t constantly tired and pressed for free time. sorry y’all :/

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes@readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99 @mystic-bibliophile

#nessian #ncssianwrites #nesta archeron #cassian #a favor #nessian au #nessian fic

180 notes · View notes

harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

Text

A Show

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

This One Too

A/N: I can’t get enough of these Subby wife!Y/n concepts!! I also love love love a good camgirl!Y/n and camboy!Harry read...so I combined the two! This one is hot as fuck...enjoy🙃

3.9k words

When it came to you and Harry, the two of you were always putting on a show. From the outside looking in, the two of you looked like a young and happily married couple. And without a doubt you two were just that. Neither of you could stand being away from one another for long periods of time and the both of you could just burst at the seams with how much love you two had. It’s just that you guys’ relationship had a couple more layers that weren’t exactly obvious to the people around you two and would definitely raise eyebrows if they were.

For starters, you and Harry were in a bit of a dom/sub relationship aside from your “foundation relationship” so to speak. As your relationship together blossomed, you and Harry ventured out into trying things that you’d never even considered doing in the past. After expressing your desire to give being a submissive a try, you and Harry tried it and never looked back. Of course you two weren’t in this space 24/7 and you liked to switch it up from time to time. But for the most part, you were perfectly fine with being subby with Harry as your Dominant. Sure when you two were out and about, you both exhibited some of those dom/sub tendencies, but it was nothing like how you both were at home. If you were feeling small, you were always in his lap or on your knees beside his legs, constantly begging for touches, cuddles, kisses, and his cock. And depending on how good of a little girl you’d been, Harry never minded to give you all of those things whenever you wanted. But if you weren’t a good little girl, he’d either take you over his knee and spank you, making you count out each one, or he’d decide against giving you his cock, no cockwarming and no sex. Also when at home, you’d always be in either a pretty little set of lingerie, or a cute little outfit that you’d picked out. Either way, Harry had complete and easy access to your body at all times. From the onset of you guys’ relationship as a whole, you gave Harry permission to take you anywhere and anytime he wanted. So if you were standing at the kitchen counter, Harry could simply come up behind you, pull your panties to the side(if you were even wearing any) and push his cock into you. And of course, if you weren’t feeling it, you’d simply use the safe word and he’d stop immediately. For you and Harry, this was heaven. And neither of you could get enough of it.

Another thing that wasn’t in the forefront when it came to you and Harry was you guys’ mutual exhibitionism. It was something about the risk that captivated you two and made you want to keep going and up the ante a bit. Now you and Harry are very good at not getting caught. The two of you are pros at keeping your little sexscapades under the radar, proceed to go about your business afterwards as if nothing happened, and have everyone around you think that as well. But whenever there was an opportunity to feed into that exhibitionism, you two always did. For example, last summer Harry planned an amazing trip to Italy for the two of you. He managed to secure a suite on one of the higher floors that was absolutely amazing on the inside, with an even more amazing view. The room had a balcony facing the water and you both took advantage of it all week long. Not only did you two cuddle up in your bathrobes in the morning when you guys ate breakfast or after a night out of taking in the city, you and Harry also had some very loud and intense rounds in that balcony. He’d be giving it to you so good out there. And as he slammed himself into you, he’d constantly whisper into your ear to scream and let the people down below know how good he was making you feel. When you two were at home, he’d make sure to make you moan and scream as loud as possible while telling you that he wanted the whole neighborhood to know what he does to you and how good me makes you feel. When doing movie nights with friends, you’d always cockwarm under the blankets. And if it couldn’t get any worse, Harry had one very large window in his office at work. This meant that whenever you popped in to pay him a visit, the number one, go to spot was right against the glass. Even though no one could really see what you two were doing, there was still a thrill that came from going at it against the window. There was also a thrill when it came to the possibility of someone knocking on the door. Even though getting caught would be horrifying and humiliating, whether it was from down below, or from beyond the office door, it was still a turn on for you both.

Now the third and final layer was a combination the dom/sub side of the relationship and your mutual exhibitionism. The two of you had a pretty sizable following on only fans. At first it was just you. But after things between you two got really serious and you told Harry what you were doing, you wanted him to join in on the fun. It was definitely a bit of a shock to him at first, but after mulling it over and listening to how much more jealous he’d be if he wasn’t included, Harry caved. And seeing how diligent you were about having a measure of privacy when it came to your identity was the icing on the cake. In the beginning of you guys’ “partnership”, Harry’d make an appearance every once in a while, the majority of the time popping in whenever you were live and watching you play with yourself or go on and on about how good daddy aka Harry, made you feel. This sort of pattern lasted all the way up until you guys moved in together. Once you two lived in the same space, Harry was a regular on there with you and he even had some times to himself. This platform that you once had to yourself grew and was even better than before. All of your numbers increased across the board and you both were very happy about that. Harry tended to be more happy about it out of the two of you though; he’d constantly tell you that they come to so see him and to see him rail you with a smug smile plastered across his face as he says it. And to be honest, he was kind of right. Your numbers were good before but they skyrocketed once he came into the picture and the most popular content was the content with the both of you in it. Now even though you two were enjoying yourselves, there was still a balance between public and private times. The both of you loved showcasing your amazing sex life and continuously feeding off of your mutual exhibitionism, but you and Harry also loved ditching the camera and the fans and just being alone together in that space as well. The sex was always mind-blowing, but it was taken to another level when it was intimate. The volume of intimate moments always outweighs the public ones and you two liked to keep it that way. The two of you went as far as to make a little schedule for what content you guys wanted to put out and when. And for the most part, you and Harry stuck to it.

Except for today though.

You were being a brat for the majority of the day. From the moment Harry sat down in his chair at work, your little messages game began. The first one was a simple one telling him that you were missing him already, which he thought was absolutely adorable and made him want to go back home and spend the day with you. After replying with a sweet message, he was able to go 3 hours without receiving any messages from you. In that 3 hour time period, you got some extra sleep and you got some things done around the house that needed to get done. And once you got all of that taken care of, you were on fire and you were riling Harry up. As you were doing a bit of self care you were sending Harry photo after photo, and explicit message after explicit message. He couldn’t get you to stop and he couldn’t stop himself from hardening in his pants. Every picture, message, or even the occasional short little video was more explicit than the last if that was even possible. You were going on and on about how couldn’t wait until he got home and that you needed daddy inside of you. It was so much that Harry couldn’t even leave out to get lunch. He was so hard that he locked himself inside of his office for lunch and took his cock out of his pants to let go of some of that mounting pressure. And even with that, it still wasn’t enough. As if things couldn’t get any worse for Harry, he was so close to finally getting off and coming right home to take care of the situation with you. Where was the problem? The time was moving incredibly slow as the day wound down and the workday came to an end.

Meanwhile, your little teasing session went on all the way up until a little after five o’clock. You sent your final tease to him when the time hit 5 before going into the room that you two had set up specifically for filming. You got the computer all ready, and your new toy from the box. The schedule said that today was your day to do a live performance of you playing with yourself. So you picked out a cute set of lingerie from your collection and put it on before making your way over and onto the bed in front of the camera. You then do a little test in the camera beforehand to see if everything looks good before starting your live stream. And in an instant you were flooded with viewers. Before just jumping right in, you have a little banter with your audience. You tell them in detail about how you’d been a bad girl for daddy today and that you were waiting for him to come home and deal with you. As you do this, you’re toying with your panties and playing with your breasts that were confined to the lacy bra you had on. You then go on to tell them that you were going to play with yourself anyway and just hope that you weren’t going to get into too much trouble, even though you knew for a fact that Harry was going to punish you for what you did to him today. In no time, your panties and bra are off and your legs are spread to expose the sticky area between your legs.

“Do you guys like this new dildo my daddy got me? It’s not as big as him but it’ll have to do.” You say happily, bringing the toy down to rub it against your plushy and very sticky cunt. You begin to tease yourself, pushing it up and down your folds and right against your entrance. Before pushing it into your entrance, your bring the toy up to your mouth to slobber all over it and make sure it was nice and ready. You then start to slowly push it inside, and as you do, your moans get louder from the way you were being filled up with the toy. It was nowhere near Harry, but it definitely felt good.

Now while you were on camera fucking yourself with the dildo, Harry was trying to get home. All of your teasing caused him to slip into his dominant space and he planned on really giving it to you and making sure that you knew how brats were dealt with. He was filled with anticipation and excitement to get home and right into you. Harry tried his best to avoid any traffic so that he could get home as fast as possible. Luckily for him, he managed to avoid a good amount of traffic and get home in less than an hour. He practically throws himself out of the car and into the house where he shrugs his coat off and charges upstairs to you. When he makes it up the stairs, he can already hear your moans echoing from down the hall. He pretty much sprints down the hallway towards the noise, his movement coming to a halt when he finds you spread out on the bed while pushing your toy in and out of your pretty little hole and moaning your little heart out. His mind just goes to giving it to you hard and without any type of mercy. You had the audacity to tease him all day long then play with yourself while you waited for him to come back home. He could see that you were filming but he could honestly care less, if you were going to be a brat, you were going to pay for it. Harry makes his way through the doorway and goes straight to the box that held some of you guys’ toys. Your actions immediately come to a halt when is steps enter the room.

“Daddy’s home!” You announce excitedly, keeping the toy inside of you and lifting yourself up into your claves. While you sit there anxiously waiting for him to come over, Harry picks out the shiny handcuffs that were inside the box. Without saying a single word, Harry completely undresses himself from behind the camera. Even though they couldn’t see him taking his clothes off, they could hear it and they were able to get a good idea of how good he looked from the way you were rocking back and forth on the toy below you. “Missed you so much t-“ You begin, being cut off mid sentence with a hand around your throat.

“How about you shut up?!” He snarls back to you, dropping the handcuffs onto the bed and turning your around into a new position before pushing you back against the bed. He then moves onto the bed, immediately straddling your body to keep you down. Since you were in a new position, Harry adjusts the camera a bit so that the audience could get a better view of you both. “It’s funny how you think that you can just do whatever you want and not get punished.” He chuckles down to you, pushing down on your throat one final time before releasing you. “Think that you putting on your little show is gonna stop me from teaching you a lesson and taking you however I want?” He asks rhetorically, as he picks up the handcuffs and brings his free hand to your wrists. He gathers them in one hand, bringing them above your head and securing them with the handcuffs. “If you wanna be a fucking slut and send me all types of obscene things while I’m at work and then get online and fuck yourself with a dildo, then I’m gonna treat you like a little whore. Understood?” Harry growls above you.

“Yes sir.” You whisper shakily. Your heart was racing and your body was tingly. Even though it was expect that he’d establish dominance over you and do whatever he wanted, everything was live. That meant that everyone was watching as you got punished.

“Now as your first punishment, m’gonna make you gag on my cock.” Harry says, bringing himself further up your body so that his cock was even closer to your face. He then wraps his hand around his girthy shaft and lifts his cock a bit to tap at your lips. Once they open, your mouth is immediately filled with his cock. Harry pushes in and lifts himself a bit so that you’re taking all of him all at once. He wanted to be in your mouth and in your throat. “Look so cute with a mouth full of cock little girl.” He admires through a moan, finally feeling the pleasure he was in need of all day long. After calming down a bit, Harry begins to move himself in and out of your mouth, each time pushing down on your face a little harder and keeping a hand pressed down onto your wrists. The sounds of your little whimpers and gags were euphoric for Harry. He liked knowing that you were stuggling a bit and he wanted the audience to know that you could take anything he gave you. As he continued to thrust into your face, your messages were being flooded with people telling him how he was lucky to have such a pretty set of holes and how good of a girl you are for taking his big cock down your little throat. “Fuck! Such a good little hole f’me.” He sighs, pushing back down into your mouth and grinding his hips down into your face. After a couple more thrusts into your mouth, making them a bit harder than the ones before, Harry decides to pull out of your mouth so that he can push into the hole he was most excited about. Since you were lying on the bed, Harry made sure that the camera was positioned in a way that only showed the lower half of your face. This meant that the viewers could see him pull his slobbery cock from your wet mouth and him on top of you. “Look so pretty babydoll.” He admires, taking in your tearstained cheeks and glistening mouth. “Gonna make you nice and filthy once I’m done with you.” Harry promises, gripping onto his shaft to give your cheek a little tap. He then lifts his body off of you and makes his way down between your legs.

“Need you daddy.” You whine, squirming against the bed as he kneels between your legs and stares at your filled pussy.

“Aww, does my pretty little slut of a wife want her pussy fucked?” He patronizes, swiftly pulling the toy out of your cunt.

“Yes daddy! S’achey down there.” You cry out to him, feeling yourself slipping into your subspace.

“Should stick it in your ass and fuck you like a real whore?” Harry suggests with a cynical chuckle, ignoring your cry out to him and bringing the dildo down to tap it back and forth against your puffy cheeks.

“Please daddy!” You beg, turning your head to the side to take the toy into your mouth.

“And suddenly, my desire to push this into your ass is gone.” He promptly states, dropping the dildo next to you and pushing you body back a bit, moving your face completely out of view. He then pushes your legs back a bit more so that you’re spread even wider for him. “Now are you going to take your pounding like the good little slut I know you can be?” Harry asks, bringing his hand down to deliver a quick swat to your sensitive cunt.

“Yes sir!” You promptly whined, needing to feel him inside already. And with that, Harry lines his cock up with your entrance and slams right into you. When he does this, your eyes roll to the back of your head and the biggest moan leaves your mouth. It felt so good to have his big cock inside of you. He was so big that you felt him in the pit of your tummy. You loved that. Now instead of giving you any time to adjust, Harry doesn’t stop; he goes straight into pounding into you. He couldn’t stop himself, your cunt just felt too good around his cock for him to stop ramming his cock in and out of you. Plus you were being punished which meant that you took whatever he gave. While Harry continued to fuck his cock into you, the audience was going wild. You two were getting an insane amount of tips and messages encouraging Harry to keep on fucking you and to go even harder, and messages for you saying how cute your pitiful moans sounded as you took his cock into your stomach. Harry was making you feel so good right now, his cock was going so deep inside and he was just slamming into you over and over again. You were on cloud nine.

“Y’look like a proper slut now.” Harry hums through a string of pants, taking in your appearance below him and bringing his hand back up to your throat that in turn silences your once loud moans. “Tearstained cheeks, drool coming out of that mouth, a hand around your throat, and m’cock in this delicious cunt of yours.” He points out, beginning to change the pace of his thrusts to more of a one at a time type of pace. He was still delivering those deep and hard blows, they were just a bit slower. As he continues on, Harry shifts his weight onto the hand that was around your throat and brings his now free hand up to the side of your face. Keeping his eyes locked in on yours, he gives you a soft squeeze before drawing his hand back a little to give you a nice slap. It wasn’t extremely hard, but it wasn’t weak either. It was enough to be for pissing him off. As he feels his release getting closer and closer, Harry does a couple more things to make you a bit filthier. He gathers some of his saliva in his mouth and he spits down into yours. From your eyes alone he could tell that you wanted to sallow, but you couldn’t since he had a tight grip on your throat. He then proceeds to do this twice more, aiming for your breasts that he’d neglected this go around. “Fuck m’gonna cum!” Harry grunts, feeling the warm and bubbling sensation mounting in his lower stomach. And before he could even comprehend how amazing he felt, Harry was erupting inside of you. The audience could hear his moans as he came inside of you. Meanwhile, you were on the brink of your release, but given the fact that you were being punished, you weren’t cumming any time soon. You hadn’t cum yet you could feel a tiny bit of a soreness forming in your lower half. As Harry pumped his cum into you, the messages just cheered him on to fill you up with his seed. Once he’s all done, Harry pulls his cock out of you, allowing all of his cum to pour out of you. He then releases your throat, causing you to break into a fit of pants as you try to catch your breath. “Came a lot in there.” He observes, tapping his fingers on your lower stomach before scooping up the cum that was dripping out of you and bringing it to your pebbled nipples.

“Now were gonna sign off now, but don’t worry, we’ll record the rest.” Harry hums darkly before ending the live stream.

You were going to be in for a very long, punishment filled night. There was no doubt in your mind that he’d be ruining you tonight.

Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

fandom-monium · 4 years

Note

i finished for the holidays and i just *chefs kiss* beautiful talented amazing sajkgdkj no words i love that romance wasnt even the main point 🥺💘 anyway i love how you write reader and i wondered between her and spencer who gets jealous???

Unrivaled

Summary: In which you seem pretty close with the new intern, and Spencer is not happy about it. (ft. one of my fave white bois) “Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

WC: 3.6k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, Jealous!Spencer bc id like to see that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, the lightest implication of smut ever, points to yall who can guess who the intern is before reading the end or the tags 😉

—

Spencer is not jealous. He’s not.

Why would he be?

He has no reason to be jealous, Spencer chants to himself as he sits at his desk. Even from across the bullpen he still manages to hear your voice, and while normally it’s music to his ears, even better than Mozart, now it just feels like nails against a chalkboard. Grating his eardrums, making him wince.

Because you’re laughing. Not with Spencer though. Not at his obscure references or lame jokes.

With the new intern.

Why did Emily have to put you in charge of him? She could’ve chosen anyone on the team to have him shadow, but it had to be you! Not that you’re incapable or unqualified; you’re experienced, talented, and the best person he knows.

… Okay, he can see why she picked you.

Why do they even have interns? Unnecessary, really, when the BAU has you and him and he guesses the other teams too (it’s weird, he’s never actually interacted with them but whatever). Maybe it’s time to start making budget cuts. He’ll discuss this with Emily when he gets the chance. He’s got some influence, working at the BAU as long as he has.

But he’s not jealous.

Logically, jealousy (like an intern) is unnecessary. The green-eyed monster (like an intern) is ugly and contributes nothing productive, and if Spencer’s being honest, the world (like an intern) would be much better off without it.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself as he downs his coffee like a shot of whiskey, trying to quell the squirming beast in him. Despite 90% of it being sugar, it still tastes bitter. He sets his mug down with a thud, and it’s loud enough to make Luke, Garcia, and JJ turn their heads, exchanging concerned glances when he slumps back in his chair.

Spencer doesn’t care. The world’s ending; you’re apparently into younger guys, with neat dark hair and forearms that can probably snap someone’s neck, and he can’t do anything about it. What does it matter if his best friends catch him in a sour mood, right?

“Hey, Spence,” JJ's tone is soft as they slink over, Garcia and Luke leaning against the edge of his desk and JJ flanking the other side. “You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer gazes past them, his eyes never leaving you. He deflates; your stance is relaxed, completely open as you nod at whatever Intern is saying, his hands gesturing spastically. It must be interesting, the way you listen with rapt attention and respond just as enthusiastic.

Spencer scoffs. Not like that’s anything special. You do the same for him. And the rest of the team.

...What the hell are you guys talking about?

“Well, you look like you’re about to throw your mug across the room. Or at an intern.”

Spencer blinks, finally breaking away from you long enough to eye the ceramic octopus. “That’s a good idea actually.”

“Don’t,” Garcia and JJ both shoot him a warning and he huffs, resting his chin in his hand. Garcia looks horrified, betrayed even while JJ has that expression on, the one she gives when she scolds Henry and Michael.

Whatever. It’s not like he’d ever sacrifice Mildred. Garcia entrusted her to him, after all.

Unless...?

No, he couldn’t… Maybe.

“You know, Reid, if you’re jealous—”

Spencer snaps his head to Garcia, eyes wide and darting to you like you have super-hearing, “Jealous? Who’s jealous? Not me.” He cringes, his voice octaves higher and cracking like a prepubescent boy.

Garcia snorts, “Okay, sure. But if you are jealous, I was going to say you have no reason to be. You wanna know why?” Spencer raises an eyebrow at her and she continues, “Sure the guy’s smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship at GWU, and he’s top of his class at the academy—”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

"And he’s one of the most good looking guys I've ever met—”

"How is that relevant—"

Luke frowns at her. "And have you met me?"

“My point is,” Garcia’s red lipstick curls into the most reassuring smile, “that you have nothing to worry about because (Your Name) loves you. A lot.”

Spencer perks up. “You really think so?”

“I know so. I see the way they look at you, and if that’s not love I don’t know what is," She shrugs, "And just because they’re talking doesn’t mean they’re into him.”

There's a collective nod of agreement and Spencer sags in relief. Of course they're right. He knows they are.

If you think about it, technically, he's got the advantage. You've known each other longer, bonded and shared experiences together good and bad, and you’re emotionally and even physically intimate with each other (something he's especially proud of, considering how long it takes you both to warm up to others).

And who knows? This is probably temporary! Whatever this is, the connection you seem to instantly make with Intern (faster than when you two had met, he realizes with a needle to his heart) is short-term at best. It'll peter out eventually, like most friendships do.

It’s sad, but a cruel fact of life.

(Is this selfish, wishful thinking? Nah.)

They’re right, there is no need to worry, Spencer thinks as a weight lifts off his chest, finally able to breathe. You love him and he loves you and eventually, everything will go back to normal.

There’s nothing to worry about.

—

The world’s ending.

“It’s really not.”

Yes, it is.

“Doc, come on.”

“Do not ‘Doc’ me,” Spencer grumbles, lifting his head from the comfort of his arms. He grimaces at Luke. “You didn’t see the way they looked at him. The way they talk about him.”

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you’ve taken Intern under your wing, and he’s had enough. If Hell is real, this is it. For days, he’s tried to resume some form of normalcy, and he was never one to be bold but desperate times call for desperate measures as he asks you out for lunch or invites you out on dates, even stuff he wouldn’t normally do because they’re more your thing. Something, anything to get you away from Intern. But...

At work: “Hey Spence, I'm teaching Intern (menial task that a 4 year old could do). Would you like to help—”

During break: “I’m taking Intern out for lunch. He’s still new to town, and I thought he could use a tour—”

In bed: “Did you know Intern’s a huge fan of Star Wars—”

Snap, and there went his patience.

Intern this, Intern that.

Spencer could tolerate this at work. At least he’s saving lives, being productive, getting paid. But under his roof? In his bed?

That was the last straw.

Spencer's not one to wish ill on another, he's not like that. But if something happened to the guy, say, get injured in the field, perhaps from a "stray" bullet, he'd be intern-ally grateful. Heh.

"Hey, you good?"

Spencer sighs, swiping a hand over his face and turning back to Luke. "Yeah, why?"

Luke waves a hand at his face, eyebrow raised, "For a second there, you kind of had a scary look on your face."

"Did I? Weird."

"Right," Clearly unconvinced, Luke brushes it off, deciding to get to the root of the matter. "As I was saying, I still think you have nothing to worry about. Although, I do think it's a little weird that (Your Name) is talking about Intern as much as you say they are." He offers Spencer a little smile, his hand falling heavy on his shoulder. It's the most comforting touch he's had in two weeks. "I'm not one to talk, but I suggest you speak to them. I'd also be uncomfortable if my partner were talking up someone else."

Spencer blinks, squints at Luke, before gripping his hand and standing up. "Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

"You can stand to mention it more often," Luke shrugs, eyes crinkling with amusement as Spencer lets go and heads for the door.

"Noted."

—

Spencer nearly goes feral when he finds you.

Of course you're with him.

He searched the floor like a bloodhound, discovering you've been on your feet almost the entire day, running around the office, up and down the elevators, finishing your work and helping around. You must be exhausted. It's because of this he tracks you to your favorite break room, mostly quiet save for the buzzing drip of the old coffeemaker. He knows you need to be alone sometimes, recharge those social batteries.

So when he bursts into the room like he would hunting an unsub, eyes quickly scanning the immediate space, he expects nothing less but you. What he did not anticipate was to find you, just as soft and pretty as ever under the fluorescent lighting, leaning against the counter and sipping daintily at your favorite mug.

With Intern standing a little too close to his liking.

“Hey, Spencer,” You chirp as you lower your coffee mug, lips glossy from your drink. Spencer's quick to shake his stupor―he can’t afford to be distracted, but it’s difficult when you’re beaming at him, clearly excited. You nod at the home-wrecker, “Me and Intern here were just talking about demonology and he’s got this interesting theory on werewolves―" Lycanthropy? Are you fucking kidding him right now?

Just when he thought he couldn't hate the guy any more.

"CanItalktoyou?" It comes out rushed as Spencer gasps between breaths, leaving no room to second guess himself.

"Sure," You blink at his urgent tone.

For a second, you watch him expectantly, and Spencer's gaze darts between you and Intern. "Alone?"

"Oh! Okay. Be gone," You wave Intern off, and when you place a hand on his shoulder, Spencer sees red. Or green in this case.

Intern doesn't resist, but the noise Spencer releases is animalistic because the guy can’t seem to read the room, questioning you as you gently shove him towards the door. "What about the thing―"

"We'll talk about that later."

"But you still need to show me how to―"

"Don't worry, Intern. Just wait for me, I'll show you once the adults are done talking."

"You know at some point you're gonna have to call me by my name."

"Nah. If we get to call Luke a newbie, we get to call you Intern. Also I do not know how to say your first name."

"You could just call me St―"

Enough of this. Spencer closes the last stretch of distance, batting your hand away from Intern’s shoulders as he kicks him out himself, slamming the door in his face. Spencer turns on his heel to face you, caging you both. “You―” He pants, chest heaving for air.

“Me?”

“You-him-we―”

You’re unfazed, simply nodding at him and his odd behavior. If anything, you’re enjoying this as your lips twitch in a poor attempt to withhold your amusement, trying to cover it with a slurp of your cup. Then again, it’s not everyday you get to see Spencer, face flushed from exertion, speechless as he gasps for breath.

(At least not at work… In the break room specifically.)

It takes a minute as Spencer swallows a few times, but his heart’s erratic and it’s not just from running through the entire building. When he’s got enough air, he blurts out, “Did I do something?”

Your brow shoots up. “What?”

“Did I forget something important? Upset you in some way?”

“No? I don’t think so?” You frown at him, your answers more like questions.

It only spurs him on, and though his tone is frantic and his eyes just as wild as his hair, you’re more intrigued than frightened. Definitely confused.

“Okay, but you know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you too but Spence, what’s this about?" Setting down your mug, you look at him like he's grown another head.

Spencer sighs, "I just… you…" He frowns, glancing between you, the floor, and the empty space between you.

Spencer Reid is a man of words. Many, many words, according to all his friends and his coworkers. Mainly knowledge―he's never been great with feelings―but as you gaze at him, patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts, he wants to melt into the floor. There's not a hint of annoyance on your features, your eyes warm and inviting.

He's so in love with you.

Then like scripture the words come, natural without much stuttering or hesitancy. He recounts the last two weeks. The internship so far, the times you've left Spencer behind for him, the times you just talked about him, like the guy (practically a stranger) is your new best friend. Usually, pretty people make him tongue-tied and you do―god, you do―but at the same time only you make it so easy. Talking, expressing without fear of―

"Pfft―"

―Judgement. Pausing mid-sentence, Spencer gawks as your nose twitches and your blink rate increases. You purse your lips, a hand slapped over your mouth as it threatens to break out into a grin.

"Are you-are you laughing right now?" When he just poured his feelings out to you?

That does it. You keel over, peels of laughter coming like a tsunami, crashing into him and Spencer loves your laugh but not when it's at him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing," you wheeze, gripping your stomach. Spencer pouts. There's even tears in your eyes. "But you're telling me this is all because you're jealous?"

He stutters, "Well-I-no-It’s just…" He wants to say ‘you're mine’, but as your eyes crinkle he knows there’s no need.

"That's kinda hot."

"Wha-really?" Wide-eyed, Spencer squeaks as you step closer to him, backing him into the door. His hands come up to his chest in a kitten-like manner yet at the same time protective―you'd never hurt him and you both know that―but you admit your initial reaction was poor when he laid his feelings bare.

“Ahhhh Babe, you know there’s no one else for me but you.” Spencer blushes and you chuckle, taking his hands in yours. He let's you. “Also, as adorable as Intern is, one, I think I’d be able to tell if he was hitting on me, and two, he’s not really my type.”

Spencer swallows, “And what exactly is your type?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Looking him up and down, you step closer, enough that your breath puffs against his chin. You smell like cheap coffee. “Tall, handsome doctors with messy, brown hair―” You lightly tug at one of his stray curls and he bites back a smile.

“―and a cute nose―” Your hand moves to cup his cheek, bringing him down to peck the tip of his nose. It scrunches as Spencer breaks out into giggles.

“―Who can recite classic literature. Who can bake like he belongs on The Great British Baking Show but can’t cook for shi―”

“Okay! Thank you, I get it,” Spencer says, almost completely relaxed now.

“Good,” You nod with finality. “And for your information, I wasn’t trying to make you jealous."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you just abandoned me and talked about another guy for the hell of it?"

Spencer's tone is casual, joking even but you know better. There's underlying bitterness and hurt and your heart squeezes because you did that. "No, of course not. There is a reason behind all that.“

“What could possibly excuse you going above and beyond your job as a mentor―”

“I was trying to set you guys up.”

Spencer deadpans. “Set me up? With him?” Oh god, he knows you’re weird, but he’s never considered you to be outright insane (is it weird he still loves you?).

As if reading his thoughts, you roll your eyes, “Spencer, how many friends do you have outside the team?”

“Not a lot.” No hesitation, but he accepted the fact a long time ago.

“Yeah and that’s okay. But if you’d talk to Intern, you’ll find you two have a lot in common. I know he’s younger than us, but he’s a good kid, real smart,” You give him a meaningful look and shrug, “Not like IQ 187 smart but he could definitely hold a conversation with you.”

Spencer murmurs, pulling you in so you're chest to chest, “This entire time, you were really trying to make us friends?”

You nod, your expression a mix of giddiness and hope that makes whatever feelings he felt before, the confusion and―yes, fine―the jealousy, dissolve like sugar in water. Spencer sinks into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your soap. Of course you had good intentions. Of course you wanted to do something nice for him.

Fuck, he loves you.

“So… we good?”

Spencer huffs, “I hope you realize how much I suffered the past few weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Then yes, we’re good,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “I appreciate what you were trying to do.”

“And?”

His brow furrows and he pulls back, meeting your eyes. “And what?”

“Will you try to be friends?” You look at him expectantly.

Spencer opens his mouth to answer, a definitive no on his tongue, but then you’re giving him puppy-dog eyes and before he realizes it, “Okay.”

Wait, no. That is not what he meant to say.

“Yeah!” You throw your arms around him, and Spencer can’t stop you, grunting as you basically swing him around like a rag doll. But he finds he doesn’t care when you set him back down because you’re happy, happy for him, grinning ear to ear as you babble, “I can already tell you two are gonna be the best of friends! You guys have so much to talk about, all that nerdy stuff. Maybe even debate! And we could play chess and―”

There’s a knock and you both turn, a voice muffled by the door, “Hey, guys? I don’t want to interrupt in case you’re boning, but you didn’t exactly tell me where to wait for you? God, I hope you guys aren’t boning. Please tell me you’re not boning right now.”

You groan, “No Intern, we’re not boning! Right-uh-go ahead and meet me back at the office, I’ll be right with you.” You turn back to Spencer, sending him an apologetic look. “I will see you later, okay? And since you’ve been such a patient and understanding partner,” You plant him one last kiss before patting his cheek, and his eyes widen as your voice lowers in the way you know drives him crazy, your eyes glinting with mischief, “I’ll make it up to once we get home. Bye, love you!”

Before Spencer can fully register your words, you're out the door, cackling as you leave him to compose himself, his face beet red from running the possibilities. By the time he emerges from the break room, you’re long gone.

“Hi, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer almost snarls, cursing under his breath. Just when he thought the day was getting better. He turns back.

Intern stands tall, relaxed and shoulders back, black tie loose and cheap white-collar button up slightly wrinkled. No doubt from working hard and following your instructions throughout the day. Spencer respects the work ethic at least. Meanwhile, the younger man eyes him, and he’s certain it’s not from intimidation but with curiosity.

Spencer doesn’t linger on that. He’s used to it, not being intimidating to others.

He continues, “It’s nice to finally talk to you, one on one I mean. I’m a fan of your work. Seven degrees, huh?”

“Yeah,” Spencer says curtly. Recalling the earlier conversation with you, he stamps down his irritation and tries to extend an olive branch. “How did you know?”

“It’s the internet, sir,” Intern raises an eyebrow, offering an innocent smile.

“Right,” Spencer returns it with an awkward one of his own, “Hey, sorry for... literally kicking you out before. That was completely unprofessional.”

Intern waves him off, “No, it’s cool. I totally get it. I’m flattered, by the way.”

Spencer frowns. “Flattered?”

“Well, it’s not everyday you find out your superior’s jealous of you.”

Spencer blinks, and it takes all his experience as a profiler to mask his embarrassment. “You heard that.”

“The FBI’s got thin walls,” Intern shrugs and steps towards him. “Although I have to say, Agent (Your Last Name) is wrong about one thing.” Stopping short in front of him, for the first time Spencer is close enough to note the moles dotting his face. “They can’t tell that I’m flirting with them.”

He starts down the hall after you, and Spencer’s eyes trail after him as his brow furrows, until realization slams into him and his jaw drops. “Wait, you...”

“Oh and since (Your Last Name) wants us to be friends, I think we could be on a first-name basis,” He pauses to look back at Spencer, watching with a crooked smile as the older man sputters.

“So, you can call me Stiles, sir.”

Then once again, Spencer is left behind, frozen in the hallway as he processes what just happened.

And the next time he finds you and Special Agent Stilinski in the same room, whether it’s crowded or not, Spencer does not hesitate to cling to your side, putting as much distance between the intern and you as he can. Spencer’s grateful you don’t question it.

There may not be anyone else for you, but that doesn’t mean no one will try.

―

AN: ahhhhh thanks anon!! There was a similar request then i saw this tiktok (and listened to this tiktok the entire time) and i combined them. Id also like to emphasize that my version of reader is neutral across the board, race, gender, etc.

Yes, i have a type. No, i will not be taking criticism.

Been hella overwhelmed with classes and work so here’s my way of destressing. Also suggest checking those tiktoks if you wanna understand me :))) also you mean to tell me i have to write the threesome myself?? Bs tbh 😔

watched 15x4 and i was so sad when Spencer addressed Luke as his coworker like no bitch hes your new bro stfu

and i have no doubt that stiles and spencer would be one of the best crossover duos given the chance

#spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg fic #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader

595 notes · View notes

mingyus-sugar · 3 years

Text

A “welcome” party

WC: 2034

It was your first day as a manager for abroad for SEVENTEEN. They were having tours very often, and even though they had two English-speaking members in the group, their staff needed someone who will be responsible for the activities abroad.

Last week you had your interview and everything. Today, once you entered HYBE they escorted you to a small office, possibly a waiting room, and now you waiting for someone from the higher-ups to come and take you to meet the group and present you to them. After about half an hour, a nice young lady of about 25 years came in and took you to the practice room, where Seventeen were gathered waiting to meet you prior to practicing.

You entered the room and there they were standing, all 13 of them shouting ‘hellos’ and ‘welcomes’ and smiling and waving. You shook hands with all of them and introduced yourself, told them that you will be their manager for abroad and you will be seeing them very often and that you were looking forward to working with them.

They told you there was a party that day and you were invited now that you are a part of the team and you gladly accepted the invitation. Soon after, your meeting ended and you left.

Later at home, you are going through your wardrobe, throwing pieces of clothes, jeans and blouses and shirts and whatnot flying across the room. In the end you were so furious that you decided to dress as simply as possible, so you put on black tight ripped jeans that brought your peachy butt, wide hips and quadriceps muscles to the spotlight, a black crop-top that didn’t show much of your skin but still did perfect job in presenting your small waist, and red high heels. You put on just a little bit of make-up to make yourself look natural because you hate it when things are too much, curled your bleached gray hair and you were ready to go.

At the party, you were very shy at first because you didn’t know anyone except the girl from before that escorted you to Seventeen’s practice room, so you spent some time with her until some of the Seventeen’s members didn’t start approaching you and she left you so that you can get to know them better. First it was Minghao, you were both very shook when you found out how much both of you had in common, and your reaction when he found out your MBTI type was also INFJ – priceless, you would think he made the greatest discovery of the century. Then Seokmin joined and the three of you were laughing at his jokes – man, he’s so funny. Mingyu joined you eventually. You didn’t know why, but you had most fun with him and you felt most attracted to him. I mean HIS BUILD, yes, but it was more than that, something in your stomach moved every time he laughed or came closer to your ear to tell you something.

It was almost midnight, and you were very tired so you told them you were very sorry you would leave and see them again at work the following days. Mingyu turned to you and told you that it is really late and thus dangerous to take the subway, so he called one of their drivers and told you that he will take you home. You said bye and you both left the party.

On the way home you saw how beautiful Seoul was at night, you just wished you could get out of the car and run around the streets of Seoul… okay, maybe grab Mingyu’s hand and run through the streets of Seoul.

However, when you arrived in front of the building where your apartment was, you asked (and only to be polite) Mingyu if he wanted to come in. Contrary to you thinking he would say no, he said yes and got out of the car, so there you were, leading the way to your apartment. you entered your apartment, and good thing you had time to clean up the mess you made before going out.

He sat down on the sofa and you asked if he wanted something to drink, you offered soda, gin, and red wine – of course he chose wine. You dressed in something more comfortable – shorts and oversized black shirt – and you tied your hair in a messy bun. You still didn’t know why you were that attracted to him and ALSO felt that comfortable around him and not even 24 hours passed since you met him. Mingyu’s eyes sparkled when you made your way to him with the wine and the wine glasses in your hands. You made him open the bottle and pour wine in the glasses. The lights in the room were dim, but, subconsciously, you lit the candle that was on the table.

You were talking about this and that, laughing at random stuff, listening to music. You checked the time, it was 2am. Even though the time passed very fast, being right there with your new ‘friend,’ those two hours felt like you were sitting there for a really long time. When you lifted your head from your phone and turned to Mingyu, he was taking his blazer off. And you knew you were screwed. He was wearing a short-sleeved black shirt under and you felt your eyes widen a little bit and your throat dried at the picture you were seeing. His honey-like skin, his defined muscles and chest – you just wanted to faint. Mingyu’s ‘What is it?’ is what made you come back to reality. ‘Nothing,’ you said, taking a huge sip from your wine.

‘You know,’ said Mingyu, ‘the moment you set foot in the practice room today, I didn’t know if I was seeing a real person or an angel. It’s cheesy, I know, but I really felt that way. I know it’s weird for you that I came to your apartment when we don’t know each other for a very long time, but I just feel very comfortable around you.’ You didn’t know what to say. ‘I also know I am being very straightforward now and maybe you feel uncomfortable because that’s what the look on your face is telling me, so if you want me to leave just tell me and I will leave.’

‘No’ you said. You weren’t thinking anything tho, you didn’t know what to say, it simply slipped your lips. Even though you were speechless, you could feel your heart beating so fast like it would jump out of your body anytime soon. But it was clear you were enjoying this and you didn’t want him to leave. ‘No,’ you said again.

Mingyu looked at you with eyes full of lust. He took the glass out of your hand and put it on the table. Moved closer to you. Your hands were touching. He brought his face closer to yours. You were half a centimeter apart. You could feel his warm breath on your parted lips.

At that moment, ‘Bittersweet’ started playing.

It was raining outside. Everything was perfect.

It was that moment when you felt his soft lips on yours. It was a long, motionless peck on the lips. He pulled back and looked at you. You both gulped. Then the both of you moved in each other’s direction and connected your lips again. This time it was a long, but passionate kiss. You cupped his cheeks and then slid your hands to surround his neck while he held your waist. The kiss lasted, and lasted…

After some time, he pulled back again. ‘Is this okay for you?’ he asked. You just nodded while you caressed his face.

‘Can we move this to the bedroom?’ you asked. Without answering, he grabbed you by the back of your legs, picked you up and you went to the bedroom.

He put you down on your bed. You were looking in each other’s eyes lustfully. You gasped as he took his shirt off. Then he slid both of his hands under your shirt, feeling every inch of your back before taking off your shirt too, and then your bra. He gently pushed you back so now you were laying on your bed with him hovering over you and leaning to kiss you again while your bodies touch and you feel the warmth of his body.

You put your hands around his neck and your legs around his waist, making him lean even closer to your body and letting out a soft sigh.

He broke the kiss and started leaving kisses from your neck down to your tummy while caressing your legs, until finally reaching the waist band of your shorts. Letting out a sigh where his face stopped, he pulled down your shorts together with your panties, making you shiver and feel goosebumps all over your body. Then he took off his pants together with his boxers and came back to the same positions as before, between your legs, putting each of his elbows beside your head and leaning for a kiss as he started grinding, making you moan.

You threw your head back as he slid one hand down there and started circling your clit, kissing and licking your neck and biting your ear, adding to the pleasure with each thing he did.

After some time he asked: ‘do you have a condom?’ You pointed to the nightstand at the left side of your bed, he reached to it, found a pack of condoms, took one out and put it on. Before he entered you, he kissed you again, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and while you were kissing, he slowly slid his dick inside of you, both of you breaking the kiss and letting soft moans, showing the pleasure.

He started off slowly, thrusting gently inside you, he was really enjoying it, and he didn’t want to rush things. After a while, you slowly pushed him back, he made a confused face, but you pushed him on his back, you sat on him and started moving up and down. Mingyu closed his eyes in all that pleasure, you leaned down making your bodies meet and started breathing against his neck, which made him grab your ass as slightly growl, making you smirk.

That made him even wilder. He brought you to the initial position, slid inside you again and started thrusting faster. You put your fingers in his hair, tied your legs behind him again making him come closer to you again. He was getting closer, and so did you. You started getting tighter and screamed when you splooshed, but he continued thrusting and not so long after he released too.

Both of you sweaty, tired and breathing heavily, you looked at each other before parting and laying on your backs.

After a few minutes, he said ‘so?’

‘So what?’ you said

‘How are you feeling?’

‘I can’t explain how am I feeling, but it’s definitely a good feeling. I didn’t expect this to happen when I came to Korea TO WORK’ you said turning your face to him, smiling and standing up to wash up and put some clothes on. He did the same, and made his way to the living room to put on his blazer.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ you asked him.

‘Home?’ he said, with a confused look on his face.

‘Oh, you are not going anywhere’ you replied with a happy face, making your way to him and taking his blazer off. He smiled and you hugged him.

After a few seconds, you pulled away, took his hand and led him to the bedroom again. You bot laid down on your sides, looking into each other’s faces, smiling and kissing from time to time.

‘Please don’t go home. I don’t know why but I think I will feel empty if you leave.’

‘Okay, I won’t.’ he said, playing with your hair and you threw yourself to hug him.

‘Oh, and also,’ you said, ‘I also feel comfortable around you.’

You felt he smiled and you both drifted off.

#mingyu #seventeen #svt #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #mingyu ff #seventeen ff #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios

64 notes · View notes

prettylittleheartfilia · 3 years

Text

The Usual

Neither of them knew how they ended up in this situation. One moment she was yelling at him for sneaking into her house, as usual. Then they began sparring, as usual. And now they found themselves on the couch, Natsu’s lips capturing hers, Lucy’s hands cupping his cheeks, which was not usual at all.

It was a soft kiss, neither of them really sure of what they were supposed to be doing with their mouths. They pulled away, pressing their foreheads together. The two stayed like that for a while, eyes closed, basking in the realization of what had just happened.

Lucy slowly opened her eyes and, just as she was about to speak, Happy flew in through the open window in her apartment.

“Lucy! Did you get any fish for me?”

Both Natsu and Lucy jumped at the sound of the exceed’s voice, scrambling to opposite ends of the couch so as to not raise any suspicion on what they had been doing less than a minute ago.

“Hey, buddy!” Natsu said a little too enthusiastically, his voice an octave higher than normal. “I thought you were hanging out with Carla.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to give her my fish and then I realized I actually ate it on the way to the guild, so I’m looking for another one.” He explained as he made his way to Lucy’s pantry.

“You already ate the fish I saved you.” Lucy called out, trying to hide her still reddened cheeks.

“What? Lucy~, that’s why I tell you to keep a bunch of them in the pantry!”

“I’m not saving any more of your stinky fish!” She got up and started pushing both of them towards the front door. “If you want more then go fishing and stop annoying me!”

The blonde slammed the door on their faces, leaning her head on it and letting her body slide down onto the floor. She normally didn’t mind their company, as much as she constantly berated them for invading her personal space, but today she needed to be alone in order to process what the hell had just happened.

The days following the incident were… weird. Lucy started avoiding Natsu like the plague. She dreaded going to the guild out of fear that she might run into him. And when she did inevitably run into him, she would make up a quick excuse as to why she couldn’t go on missions with him or sit with him to eat. The dragon slayer hadn’t sneaked into her place after that day either, which should have been a relief for the blonde, but it just made her feel like he thought what happened between them had been a mistake.

But what right did she have to feel this way? She was the one who continued to run away from him, too afraid of what might happen if they got the chance to be alone together. And now, she was all by herself in her apartment, deciding to focus on her novel instead of trying to go to the guild for a futile game of hide and seek like she had been doing all week. Except that this wasn’t working either. Every time she tried to write words on the paper, her mind went back to Natsu and that day. The way his lips felt against her own—chapped but sweet, the way his hands felt on top of her hips, how his wild hair smelled of-

Lucy flinched at the sound of someone knocking on her door. She jumped out of her desk chair and quickly opened the entrance to her apartment, not really caring who was behind the door as long as they could make her think of something other than her best friend’s lips.

“Hey, Lu!” As soon as the door opened, Levy jumped on the blonde, hugging her tight.

“Hey… everyone. What are you guys doing here?” Still a bit flustered from her earlier thoughts, Lucy hugged Levy back as she glanced up to see Cana, Juvia, Erza, Mira, and Lisanna all standing in her doorway.

“We thought today would be a perfect day for a girls’ night!” Mira explained as she and the other girls made themselves comfortable in Lucy’s home.

Lucy smiled softly. A girls’ night was just what she needed to clear her head, even if it was unexpected.

Or so she thought.

Not even ten minutes after her friends’ arrival, Cana exposed the real reason why they had suddenly come to visit. “So, Lucy, did something happen between you and Natsu?”

“Cana!” Levy smacked her arm as the other girls looked at the brunette with wide eyes.

“What? Might as well just come out and ask instead of beating around the bush.”

The blonde’s face glowed red as she hurriedly denied her friend’s question. “No! No no no, everything’s fine! W-why do you ask?”

“Please. We all notice how weird you’ve been acting lately. You run away if you see even a glimpse of pink hair.”

Lucy looked down. Maybe she should tell them what happened. She’s not used to talking about her feelings, normally just shoving them down and distracting herself by writing or going on a mission. But none of those distractions seemed to be working right now. And most of her friends had much more experience in this department than her, surely they would know what to do. Plus, she trusted these girls with her life.

“Natsu and I… we, we kissed… last week.” She muttered, still looking down. Part of her hoped they didn’t hear her but, alas, they did.

There was a resounding “WHAT?” from all of her guests and Lucy simply nodded, still too afraid to look up.

“Oh my God! Pay up, guys!” Cana jumped up, thrusting her open palm in front of Mira’s face.

“I really thought it would take them years.” Mirajane grumbled as she took out some rolled up jewels from her cleavage and handed them to the brunette. Both Lisanna and Erza also stood up and begrudgingly gave Cana their money.

“Juvia knew it was coming. They’ve been flirting more and more these days.” Said the water mage with a smug grin as Cana divided the bills with her and Levy.

“Wait, what?” Lucy finally looked up indignantly, “You guys made a bet about this?”

“Of course. We all know you two idiots are in love. You’re the last ones to realize it.” Cana shrugged as she sat down again.

“We’re not in love.” Lucy responded, but even she knew it was a weak protest.

“How did it happen? Who kissed who? Was it like you expected your first kiss to go?” Levy jumped from question to question excitedly.

“I don’t even know. We sat down on the couch after a sparring match and we were just playing around and then…” She trailed off.

“Did you like it?” Erza spoke up for the first time.

“...Yes?” Lucy responded after a while and groaned after she saw her friends’ cheeky smiles, burying her face in her hands.

“If you liked it so much, then why do you keep running away from him?” Asked Cana.

“I don’t know,” The blonde mumbled, face still buried in her hands before she moved to hug her knees instead, “Things are just… weird right now. I don’t know what I want, or what he wants.”

“Well, do you see yourself in a relationship with him?” Mira asked softly.

This got Lucy thinking. Ever since she was little, she had always fantasized about marrying her Prince Charming. Someone who was elegant, classy, a gentleman on all counts. But, after meeting Natsu, somehow the idea of that Prince Charming started fading away from her mind until there was no trace of it left. Now, whenever she thought about the one person she wanted to spend forever with, the only things she could envision were wide, warm smiles and pink hair. She never spent too much time thinking about what it could all mean, too afraid of what she might find if she dug deep enough in her heart. But the truth always found its way to the surface.

“I do.” She admitted in a whisper, more to herself than the people around her. “I want us to be together forever.”

“Then, what are you so afraid of? Go and talk to him.”

“I can’t. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t think he’s interested in relationships. And even if he was, he’s my best friend. I would never want to do anything that could jeopardize that.”

This time, Lisanna interjected. “Luce, I’ve known Natsu for a long time. I probably know him better than he knows himself in certain ways. I can assure you, the boy is head over heels for you. And I’m not the only one who sees it.” The other girls made gestures of agreement and Lisanna chuckled.

“You’re missing out on what could potentially be a beautiful thing because you’re scared of the what-ifs. Yes, maybe along the line something happens and you guys break up. But, maybe you don’t and you get to grow old together. You’ll never know unless you try. Life is all about risks and I know you’re brave enough to take them. I’ve seen you do it.”

Mira’s speech almost brought tears to Lucy’s eyes. She was right-- as she usually was about everything. If Lucy was able to leave everything behind at seventeen to become a mage and get through countless adversities in her way, even when all odds were against her, what’s stopping her from confronting a boy?

“No matter what happens, we will always be a team.” Erza added, and it was just the validation Lucy needed to make her mind up.

“Thank you, guys. Really. And you’re right. I need to stop running away and just talk to him.”

———

Today was the day. After going over everything the Strauss sisters had said to her in the mirror to gain courage, Lucy took a deep breath and made her way towards the guild.

As soon as she opened the grand doors, she was met with the familiar ruckus of Fairy Tail; chairs being thrown in the air, groups of people singing while drunk-- Cana being the most notable of all, of course. People yelling out what missions they were planning on taking to Mira, and what seemed to be a crowd of people cheering on a fight. She smiled. As much as Lucy loved peace and quiet, there was something so comforting about all the chaos that went on inside the guild. It felt like home.

Only when she got closer did the celestial mage notice that the people who were fighting were none other than Natsu and Gray. Gajeel seemed eager to join the fight from where he stood in the crowd, but he was being pulled back and chastised by Levy.

Rolling her eyes, Lucy squeezed her way through the group until she was standing on the front row. “Natsu, Gray! You better stop before Erza sees you.”

The threat fell on deaf ears, the two mages too entranced on beating each other up to even notice the presence of their friend. Sighing, Lucy made her way to where the two of them stood. Before either of the boys could process what was happening, Lucy grabbed their heads and crushed them together. The hollering crowd instantly went silent and slowly dispersed, knowing not to cross the blonde when she was in one of those moods.

“What the fuck, Lucy!” Cried out Gray as he rubbed the injured area.

Deciding there were more important matters at hand, Lucy ignored him and turned to Natsu who was also rubbing his head until he noticed the girl looking at him. He straightened up with wide eyes.

Before he could say anything though, Lucy hurriedly asked, “Can you come over for dinner later?” Knowing that if she didn’t ask now she would lose all the courage she worked so hard to build.

The question seemed to throw Natsu off. He sent a panicked look at Gray, as if questioning whether he heard her right, and answered after a few seconds. “S-sure! I’ll be there.”

———

Lucy decided to leave the guild early not only to make the food, but to mentally prepare for what was about to happen.

She was going to ask Natsu how he felt. And she had no idea what to expect. The boy had never been good with words or expressing himself, his thoughts always a mystery to whoever he was around. Perhaps if she hadn’t kicked him out of the apartment after their kiss and avoided him every day since then, she would have an idea of what was going on through his mind. But it’s too late for regret now.

Just as she finished setting up the small table, she heard someone knocking at her door. Taking a deep breath, Lucy opened the door to find her pink-haired partner scratching the back of his neck, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. Part of her was afraid he was going to fly in through the window with Happy, but she was glad to see he understood that she wanted them to talk alone.

“Natsu.” She breathed, suddenly at a loss for words.

“Hey, Luce.” He gave her one of his signature big smiles, but Lucy noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed… nervous. She never thought Natsu was capable of feeling that emotion.

They stood awkwardly on the doorway for a few seconds before Lucy realized it was her turn to speak.

“C-come in! I made some of that spicy chicken you really like.” She looked down at the floor as she opened the door wider so he could pass.

“Thanks!” He chirped as he sat down on one of the dining chairs.

Lucy gulped. The entire speech she rehearsed over and over again had completely been erased from her mind the moment she saw him.

This was going to be a long night.

———

Once again, Lucy had no idea how they ended up like this. Dinnertime had been very awkward, the two of them eating silently for the most part, making small talk every once in a while, both of them too afraid to mention the elephant in the room. But, somehow, they had gone from barely talking at each other, to making a bet on who would win a sparring match. Even in the most difficult situations, Natsu always found a way to wreak havoc. And Lucy found a strange sense of comfort in that.

At first, the blonde was hesitant on accepting the bet, still feeling the discomfort of all the things left unsaid. But, when Natsu sent a Fire Dragon Iron Fist her way, breaking her favorite vase as she ducked, she decided to make good use of her Fleuve D’étoiles. After a few minutes of going back and forth, Lucy pretended to point at something surprising behind Natsu, which gave her the opportunity to wrap her whip around Natsu’s ankle when he looked back and tug him until he collapsed on the ground. The oldest and cheapest trick in the book, Lucy knew, but a win was a win. Honestly, she was more surprised that it had actually worked.

She unwrapped the whip from Natsu’s ankle and placed it gently on her desk. The dragon slayer was still laying flat on the floor, so Lucy decided to lay down next to him. She sighed as she felt all the tension she had been feeling lately leave her body. It had only been a week but she had seriously missed being around her best friend. It didn’t matter to her what they were, she just wanted to be with him. That was enough for her.

“Now my face is all red.” She muttered as she pressed her hands to her cheeks.

“I like your face.” Natsu mumbled and, as they both whipped their heads to look at each other with wide eyes, Lucy realized that he was just as surprised by what had come out of his mouth as she was. “I, I mean your face is cool! I-it’s nice. Even when it’s all red and sweaty like now.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow at his poor attempt to save himself but made no effort to stop him.

“But not only your face!” He continued, “Gray told me you should never just talk about a girl’s appearance.” He grumbled, as if upset he had broken some sort of special rule and Lucy could not stop her amused smile. “Like, yeah, your face is nice, but you are also nice! And smart. And I like how I feel when we hang out. Ugh, what am I saying?” He turned his face towards the ceiling again and covered it with his hands.

It took everything in Lucy’s power to not burst out laughing right then and there. Was Natsu… confessing? She had never seen him so flustered. Ever. Normally, that was her thing. She had to admit, it was nice being on the other end every once in a while. All this time, she tried her hardest to muster up the courage to talk to him, trying to convince herself that things would be fine even if he didn’t feel the same way and now here he was, making a fool out of himself in the most heartwarming way Lucy could have asked for.

After a couple moments of silence, Lucy finally decided to speak up with newfound confidence.

“... I like your face too. Just so you know.”

Natsu dropped his hands from his face and whipped his head to look at Lucy. She raised her eyebrows, hoping he would understand exactly what she meant. She knew he understood by the way his lips slowly formed a giddy smile, one to match hers. Without the need for any more words, they both turned to look at the ceiling as their hands found their way to each other’s, fingers entangling.

This definitely wasn’t the usual for them, but maybe it was time for a new normal.

#fairy tail #nalu #nalu fanfic #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #my writing #i think this is the longest one-shot i've written so far #not pictured: gray threatening to cut natsu's balls if he ever hurt lucy after finding out about the kiss #also not pictured: the bags under my eyes because i decided to proof-read this at an ungodly hour

184 notes · View notes

spiderling-space · 3 years

Text

This idea is inspired by @zozobegone ‘s this post

Setting: Grim goes platonic yandere mode when he realizes MC is going to go back to their world

It is written from Grimm's perspective

Italics indicate thoughts

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

The Great Grimm

Warning: Unhealthy dependency and friendship

"Henchperson, give me those candies!" Grimm ordered (Y/N) after trying so many times to reach the top shelf.

"Aw, you couldn't reach yourself?" (Y/N) had seen Grimm jumping and trying to climb to take the candies. They didn't do anything but watch him fail for the last 10 minutes, they couldn't help themselves as he was being so cute. "What's the magic word?"

After grumbling a little, Grimm spoke coercively, "Please..."

"That's a good boy!" They patted him on the head before grabbing the candies and giving them to him.

He started devouring them the moment he got his hand on the candies. He thanked them quickly before focusing entirely on his food. They were just so delicious, he couldn't resist it!

"Honestly Grimm, what will you do once I'm gone?" They sighed as they took a seat in the kitchen.

The words didn't register for Grimm at first. "Eh?" He stopped eating for a moment and looked at them. "What nonsense are you babbling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, you know, it's been months and lots of progress have been done. Crowley finding a way for me to return home is right around the corner." They spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That birdman doesn't do anything but whine and pin all the tasks on us."

"I convinced him to do the actual work and he made a progress on finding a way for me to go home." (Y/N) stood up, walking toward him and kneeling to his height. "I'll give you a secret, I haven't told anyone this." They gulped before smiling, "Crowley found the way for me to go back. We just need ingredients and get some tests done then I'll be able to go back. I haven't told others about it yet because I wanted to have something concrete but since you are like my second family, I wanted you to know first."

Huh, he thought.

Grimm continued eating, ignoring what (Y/N) had said who got up and left the kitchen after sharing their secret. At that moment, it didn't bug him at all since he thought they were joking.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

It didn't even pass a week that (Y/N) started to tell the others that they would be leaving soon and ask their help to get the ingredients and spend their last days together. Meanwhile, Grimm became more and more irritable as the days passed by.

Grimm didn't have a family nor a friend. When he opened his eyes to the world, he was in a back alley by just himself. He fended for himself and decided to become the greatest magician when he heard people talking about Night Raven Collage. He didn't have anyone who supported his dream nor he needed one. He would accomplish it on his own and show everyone how great he was. Of course, things didn't go as planned and he got thrown off the moment he revealed his true self at the entrance ceremony and was even threatened to get eaten. What's worse was that when he returned to NRC, showing the persistence of an NRC student, he was about to be thrown again. That would be the case if it weren't for (Y/N) sticking up for him. He wasn't a sentimental monster and he hated to be called cat by (Y/N) despite his catly activities as they called it. However, deep down he knew it was because of (Y/N) that he became a student in the NRC, getting one step closer to achieving his dream. Heck, he and (Y/N) were considered one student together.

It wasn't just (Y/N) creating him an opportunity that made him care about them, it was everything. They studied together; they slept on the same bed, shared meals and snacks, played games, did homework, complained about the school and students together. Not to mention, how much he enjoyed getting petted, belly rubbed and washed by them. They had each other when no one was around and always stood against overblot student together. In Grimm's eyes, they were an inseparable and astonishing duo; even a family he never had, not that he would say it out loud.

Maybe that was why he was miffed by everything that was going on... What would happen to me if (Y/N) were to go back? Become alone again? Get kicked out of NRC? Have no friends and family? No, that's not going to happen!

As the days passed, the attention he got from (Y/N) diminished gradually, came to a point that he only saw them in classes and when they got back. They were out with another person every day, not sparing enough time for the Great Grimm.

How dare they, he thought while heatedly huffing and puffing on the couch.

Grimm dearly missed the old times when (Y/N) wasn't obsessed with going back. He didn't even receive enough petting last few days nor they studied together. His mind wandered to their time spent together when he noticed something. (Y/N) would leave everything behind regardless of how important it was when he got into serious trouble or got hurt. They would sweep in to save his neck. It just clicked at that moment.

He would get into trouble or injured to get their attention on him. However, then the other minions would gather around them too and their attention would be divided. It was not something he wanted. An idea struck in his head after a few minutes of thinking. As expected out of the Great Grimm, it was a brilliant plan.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

"Oh my goodness, Grimm! What happened to your paw-paw?!" (Y/N) rushed to his side, kneeling and examining his paw.

Grimm grumbled acting as if he didn't want to tell them. "Nothing, Great Grimm is fine!"

"Don't be ridiculous! It looks broken!" The worry on (Y/N)'s face was gratifying since he got their attention back.

"Ask your best friends," He answered with faux melancholy, withdrawing his paw near his chest and turning back as if he would leave.

"What does that supposed to mean?" They asked, confussion evident on their face just like Grimm wanted.

"Azul tricked them into doing his work and asked them to collect all the feathers on the roof. Ace and Deuce took me with them then we got into a fight and I fell off the roof." He lowered his head for extra effect.

"And they didn't even take you to the infirmary?!" He managed to get them riled up.

"It was my fault th-"

"That's not an excuse! For fuck's sake! C'mon, we are going to the infirmary." (Y/N) wrapped their arms around Grimm and lifted him en route to the hospital wing.

"Hey (Y/N)! Do you -"

"I can't believe what you two did!"

"What we did?" Deuce mumbled, fearing their wrath.

"Don't talk to me for some time and at least take responsibility and apologize!" (Y/N) stormed off before Ace could finish his sentence. Both Ace and Deuce look perplexed as (Y/N) marched away. Grimm was looking at them over (Y/N)'s shoulder, taking in their puzzled looks and flashing a grin as (Y/N) walked away.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

For the next two weeks, Grimm continues with his plan.

"I swallowed a lot of soapy water." Grimm said as he was rubbing his belly, it genuinely hurt. Swallowing soapy water was more awful than hurting his paw.

"Azul! You promised to not do this and shame on you Jade, Floyd!"

3 more down, plenty to go...

"Leona, have you seen Grimm? He is way smaller than you! How couldn't you realize what your claws would do on Grimm?"

"Ruggie, Grimm got food poisoning because of you! You could have just stolen his food instead of replacing them with expired ones."

"Jack, I've never expected this from you. I'm very disappointed."

"What? What are you talking about?" Jack asked hastily but it fell on deaf ears as (Y/N) didn't even listen to him, grabbing Grimm and leaving them standing.

Woo hoo! My plan is working fantastically!

"He could have died Kalim if it were higher!"

"Jamil, I thought you would stop making people poison taste. Grimm has been puking all day long because of you!"

Grimm grinned wickedly as he was once again carried by (Y/N).

Wait until I'm done with all of you! HAHA, You cannot defeat me!

Grimm was thinking of new original ways to distance (Y/N) from the rest of Heartslabyul, Pomefiore, Ignihyde and Diasomnia. The last one would be the hardest as he had a powerful competitor who also sought (Y/N)'s attention but it didn't matter, Grim would be the only one!

That was what he thought until Birdman came bearing the news...

"(Y/N)! Good news! All the tests we did on the mirror worked! You can go back now!"

Everything stopped right there and then.

Grimm was so focused on getting (Y/N)'s affection and attention that he forgot about the tests they were doing on the mirror.

Now I am too late...

"My goodness! Thank you! I missed my home so much! I'll start saying my goodbyes!" (Y/N) spoke rapidly, they truly were happy to hear the news.

Happy to leave me all alone!

"No worries, they all gather around the magic mirror, waiting for you." Birdman informed, "Are you coming now?"

"Yes!" (Y/N) said before turning to him, taking him in arms and carrying him outside.

That is not how it was supposed to go...

As they were walking outside before leaving the Ramshackle perimeter, Grimm jumped on the ground.

"What's wrong?" (Y/N) stopped to ask.

"What's wrong?!" Grimm couldn't contain it anymore. everything was too much.

"(Y/N), do you need a moment to say goodbye to the dorm?" Birdman questioned, getting closer to where they were standing.

"Uhm... yes... I mean I spent months here so I should say goodbye to it. You can go, we will catch up in a moment."

With that Birdman walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Grimm alone.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" They asked idiotically.

Are they too dumb to understand?

As Grimm was about to tell them what was on his mind, unfiltered, he felt a power within himself. A power that wanted to surge out of him and he let it since he had nothing to lose anymore.

"You will leave me all alone!"

"But you already knew that, Grimm. This place isn't my home and if I took you with me, you would be discovered and people would do experiments on you." Their voice was so soft as they tried to reason with him but none of them mattered.

"We are one student together, you can't leave until I graduate!" The power inside of him grew even more.

"Well, Crowley said he-"

"We fought the monsters together. We are a team, you called me your son!" He could feel that power getting closer

"I-" He wasn't going to let them speak anymore!

"So you see me as a family but you abandon me!" He felt the power leak outside and he didn't even care about it.

"GRIMM!" (Y/N) yelled, taking a few steps back. "I, I, I changed my mind, we will be together!"

"You want me to have no one again!" Grim screamed, not even noticing how his voice changed. "AAAAAHHH!"

Everything went black for a moment and the second he reopened his eyes, everything was different. He was no longer looking up to (Y/N); he now was looking down on them. They were so tiny.

"YOU CANNOT LEAVE!" Grimm screeched when he saw (Y/N) backing and running away. He jumped, landing right in front of them who fell on the ground from the shock and still trying to crawl away.

"G-Gr-Gr-Grim, i-i-it's me! We are friends, remember? I know you wouldn't hurt me because we are family, innit?"

"It is too late for everything but you are right. We are family..." Grimm said, his voice echoing, giving it more menacing feelings.

Grimm was no longer waiting for (Y/N) to understand that they couldn't leave him. He had no intention of waiting anymore. He leaned towards them slowly, biting their clothing and lifting them.

It was always (Y/N) who carried Grimm around relentlessly now it was Grimm's turn. Once he was sure that they wouldn't fall, he took off, running away from the Ramshackle, leaving NRC behind.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst grim #twisted wonderland grim #twst mc #twisted wonderland mc #mc/yuu #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yandere #yandere twst #twst yandere #yandere #yandere grim

266 notes · View notes