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shuniverse · 2 years

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pick me up ,,| l.f

a/n: i’m doing these in a different font style now lol. but i wrote this on the spot because i’m just so done with life rn. i’m not going through personal internal issues, but needless to say this drabble will kinda sum things up. also this is written in lowercase on purpose, just btw

1.1k words

involves felix because he’s one of my biggest comforts next to channie.

the basic gist is of parents fighting and reader having to leave because of it, but it doesn’t explicitly show what they’re saying, so no descriptions of abusive language.

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

you can’t do it anymore. the constant yelling, the fighting. you wish you had enough money to leave, but seeing as you’re job only pays so much and your parents seem to want you to stay, you’re stuck.

you’re in your room, blankets tucked over your head trying to drown them out as you at least attempt sleep, but it doesn’t work. the banging, the clattering, the constant berating and degrading and just pure hatred seeming to spew out of your parents mouths is too much.

you don’t know what else to do, so you call your boyfriend, seeing as it’s your only option. you pull out your phone, the brightness of your lock screen blinding you momentarily in the dark cocoon of your blankets. once your eyes have adjusted, you unlock your phone and head right to his number.

you: lixie come get me please

lix ❤️🍪: ok honey! what’s wrong? is it happening again?

you can’t bring yourself to answer at first, tears pricking again at your already puffy eyes.

you: yes pls come get me i can’t do this anymore

he sends two thumbs up emojis, and one little heart, attempting at trying to be gentle, which he always is. felix is someone you never thought you’d have, but you’re sure as hell not letting him go.

about 10 minutes later, there’s a text on your screen.

lix ❤️🍪: I’m here baby. take your time, I’m in no rush, I love you

you smile at his text, and send just a heart emoji. he doesn’t press for more of a response.

your tugging on your converse, the ones your mom bought you. they’re dirty, but functionable. you tie the laces loosely, tugging on your (felix’s) hoodie, grab your phone and bbokari plush and leave quietly out of your room. your parents are in the kitchen, and you shrink down while they’re shouting, not even noticing you leave. you sneak out the front door, and jog the small distance to felix’s car.

as you get in, you’re greeted by felix in all his beautiful glory in the drivers seat, looking to be disheveled and anxious. as soon as he sees you and your in your seat and shut the door, he grabs you and brings you in for a comforting, yet very snug, hug, breathing shakily into your hair.

“are you okay? are you hurt?” he pulls away, inspecting your features, his face softening just a bit as he sees the hoodie and plush sticking out of the hood haphazardly. sighing and brushing your hair back, he plants a gentle kiss against your forehead.

you shake your head at his question, and rest your head on his shoulder, tears in dry streaks down your face, your eyes red still. “no, they never touch me when they get like this.” you look up at him, and hold one of his ringed hands. “thank you, lixie.”

he smiles warmly, kissing your cheek. “any time, sweetheart.” his deep, soothing voice comforts you, and you snuggle against his shoulder

“can we go now? i don’t-“

before you can finish your sentence, felix is driving off. he intertwines his fingers with yours, kissing the back of your hand. “let’s head home, yeah?”

you smile. you’ve gotten used to calling felix’s apartment your home, it’s comforting. better than your actually home, where every other night it seems like you’re woken up by yelling.

after 10 minutes of comfortable silence, you’re walking up with felix to his apartment.

you don’t even expect a “come home” text from one of your parents tonight. if they haven’t noticed you leaving, they certainly won’t notice that you’re gone.

sitting on his couch, you’re watching on of your favorite comfort movies, an old Disney movie from when you were young. snuggled up against your boyfriend, you feel a surprising buzz of your phone. you reach for it, and pull it out to see, surprisingly, a “come home. please.” not from your mom, nor your dad. no, it’s from your brother. he never texts you.

you sigh, replying with:

you: im sorry, im at felix’s. you can call your girlfriend to get you?

the question is genuine, and he replies back almost immediately.

brother boy: I’ve tried but she won’t respond. they’re getting louder. can you help me?

you: I can ask one of the boys? I know you’re close to some of them. want me to call jeongin?

brother boy: sure. that works. just anything to get my out of this shit hole

you look at felix, who’s been gazing at you with a curious look in his beautiful brown eyes. “what’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“my brother needs to leave too. can you call innie?”

he nods immediately, grabbing his phone and calling jeongin.

they’re talking, and in a little less than a minute he’s ended the call. “innie’s on his way. good thing him and your brother are friends, huh?”

you nod, a small smile on your face before you look back at your phone for a second. the screen is notification free.

you open your messages and shoot your brother a text.

you: hey, jeongin’s coming to get you. he’ll be there quick, don’t worry okay?

brother boy: okay- oh, I think I see his car on the other side of the street. I’ll climb out the window.

you: no! just go out the door, I went out the back door. they didn’t even notice, you’ll be okay.

brother boy: ok. thank you

you: no problem. have fun with jeongin

he sends a thumbs up. you look up at felix, and kiss his jaw, making him smile. “thank you for helping me, lixie.”

he nods, kissing your forehead. “the least I could do, baby.”

you yawn, and he gently rubs your shoulder before scooting down a bit to lay you both down on the couch, and he pulls a soft blanket over top of you. he snuggles bbokari in your free arm, on the open side of the couch. “let’s get some rest, yeah?”

you nod sleepily against his chest, snuggling into it.

he kisses your head. “I love you, sleep good baby.”

you mumble something, and felix giggles, before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as you both drift off to sleep.

you wish you didn’t have to run to him every time your parents fought, but you’re glad he’s there anyways. you’re parents fighting is shoved to the back of your head as you fall asleep, but you know you’ll have to talk to them tomorrow.

but tomorrow is the last thing in your mind.

——————————————————————————

hope you guys enjoyed!

please know that if you guys are dealing with things like this, and it’s getting bad, please don’t be afraid to tell somebody. this is a serious thing. my parents aren’t exactly innocent in this department, and I hate to have to hear it, and I don’t want the same for any of my readers or any others living with their parents.

this was a way for me to express my emotions through writing, involving someone who brings me much comfort. call it a coping mechanism, if you will. I hope people who are struggling can find a happy coping mechanism as well, and I wish you all the best <3

stay safe!

#skz imagines #skz fluff #lee felix #lee felix drabbles #felix fluff #felix imagines #felix x reader #light angst #gn!reader #I needed this because I can’t deal with my own life sometimes and need to find comfort through kpop men

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aseriesofthrills · 2 years

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My heart won’t stop beating. It’s good that it’s beating, preferable actually, but not this fast, and not this loud. I’m at my parents’ apartment sleeping on a thin pull out couch in their guest room. They just retired from Florida to North Carolina, breaking the mold of retirees flocking further south. They haven’t found a house yet in Asheville so we’re in cramped quarters, an apartment far more elegant yet much smaller than my shitty but spacious house in Los Angeles. Less than 24 hours since my feet touched east coast soil, I’m already feeling a little claustrophobic in the space. And it is just that - a space, a place, not a home. It’s not where we brought my younger brother home to from the hospital, the host of my first sleepover, the bathroom where I got my first period, the home held together by the walls I stared at wondering if everyone would immediately sense a difference in me after the first time I had sex, the bedroom where I came out to my parents. When my plane landed in North Carolina, my mom desperately wanted to “get the first hug” - a game our family plays - and left my dad stranded in the car in order to track me down near baggage claim, simply unable to wait the extra 30 seconds for me to make it outside. I used their guest bathroom only to find the toilet paper folded over, like I was at the Waldorf Astoria. Sometimes my mom even puts chocolates on my pillow when I visit. My dad texted me the day before my flight to ask for grocery store requests, as if the right brand of cold brew is the key to my happiness and they’d do anything in their power to unlock it. So, maybe, who needs a home when you have a lot of love? And anyway, this all has nothing to do with why my heart’s beating like a drum. It would be in any space or place.

My heart won’t stop beating fast and loud. I’m lying on my stomach, and I can hear the beats reverberating throughout the metal springs, the frail skeletal system holding this flimsy pull out couch together. The beats feel shockingly loud, as if I’m stranded at some heavy rock concert that I didn’t buy tickets to. I never understood why some people willingly go to concerts but bring earplugs, the weird fibrous orange material poking out of their ear canals. Supposedly their “pliable design slowly expands, conforming to your ear canal to help block out hazardous noise.” I would consider this noise Hazardous, but it isn’t just an aural problem. The bed is vibrating with my aliveness, abuzz with my analyzing. Could my heartbeats be shaking the whole apartment complex? The beating and throbbing makes it feel like I’m sleeping inside of my own giant ribcage, taunting me from the inside out. I should try turning over onto my back, but somehow that feels worse in other ways. Like I’m opening myself up to the world, vulnerable, singing, “Sure! Come and devour me!” Even if it meant the end of the incessant sounds of my blood pumping, I don’t think I could sleep like that. I want to feel cocooned and enveloped, folded into myself, a child and its mom all at once, someone capable of self-soothing. A feeling only possible by being on my stomach, relentless beating be damned.

I have a crush. Aside from being alive, it’s undoubtedly the source of the fervent beating that now must be registering as at least a 4 on the Richter scale. Noticeable Shaking of Objects and Rattling Noises. Felt by Most People in the Affected Area. I take solace in the fact that Moderate to Significant Damage is Very Unlikely. The crush is complicated. She told me she likes me, but we have to wait. I’m not good at waiting. Terrible, actually. Two or three weeks feel like months. I truthfully have no concept of how far off it feels to my warped brain, and the nebulousness of that might be even worse than being able to ascribe a timeline to it. It’s like I’m stranded in a foreign country where I’ve lost my passport, and I’m trying trying trying to get home but there’s no guarantee when I will. Someday, yes, it will be worked out. Things will fall into or out of place. But when? When when when? I wonder if she’s as preoccupied with me as I am with her. For my sake, I hope yes. For her sake, I hope no.

At a certain point the beat beat beating seems to let up, or maybe it’s just turned into a frequency I can thankfully no longer hear. But in some diabolical plot by the world to hold me hostage in an awake state, I’m now hyper aware of a clock ticking. Not metaphorically, though that would be apt, but the literal ticking of a time-keeping device in my vicinity. Tick. Tick. Tick. I hate to be this dramatic about something that was likely placed in the room by my mom in a casual attempt to decorate, but frankly, it’s ruining my life. And why would she pay such careful attention to decorating anyway? This is a temporary apartment, a space, a place, not a home, and it doesn’t need little clocks. It needs my newborn brother and my first period bathroom and my sleepover room and the walls that watched me grow.

Thoughts about my crush keep flashing through my brain, almost like jump scares. You expect it but it startles you all the same, grossly over-buttered popcorn flying everywhere. Like Fleabag suddenly remembering things at inconvenient times about her best friend, Fleabag plagued by guilt over her death. Except I didn’t kill anyone. I just like someone. I think back to the way she touched my hands at the bar, surprised by how cold they were, warming them up. How she put her hand on the small of my back when I was walking in front of her. How she asked, “Can I kiss you?” in my passenger seat outside of her apartment at 1am. How she tasted sweet, like candy. How I didn’t want her to leave my car, how I wanted to go inside with her. How she texted me after that she’s glad she ran into me. How she said she has a crush on me and wants to take me on a date, but after Thanksgiving, because it’s complicated. I need to be patient, because it’s tricky with work. We might be working together. And a big holiday is right around the corner. So we have to wait. But the pit in my stomach is ignoring all of the nice things she said. The playful, flirty things she did. I can’t stop wondering: what if she changes her mind about me?

My heart won’t stop beating fast and loud. I think about the counting sheep trick, and my depleted little pea brain can’t remember if it’s a wives tale or if it’s actually supposed to help lull you to sleep. I figure it can’t hurt. I start counting, but instead of sheep, I count every time the clock ticks. One. Two. Three. The clock has still been loyally ticking this whole time that my head’s been off doing its Olympic Mental Gymnastics, going for gold, burning so many calories that my brain might get so lean that I’ll only ever be able to think about this crush. A broken record player scratching the same spot forever. Four. Five. Six. After Hurricane Katrina, I went to New Orleans with a group to help clean and rebuild, and one business that I helped repair had a big analog clock hanging on one of its walls. The classic black and white one. Like everything else in what was left of the building, it was broken. Whatever time was displayed on the clock must have been the moment Katrina’s flood waters got so high that it short circuited and stopped. I am certainly not likening my personal anxieties to a massive natural disaster, but I am saying I think my brain has hit its maximum flood level of thoughts, and if it turned off soon I would not be the least bit surprised. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. It’s actually working a little bit. I can only focus on counting, not on crushing, and I feel myself seeping deeper into the bed, begging it to engulf me and kill my brain. At this point, that is a thing I want.

For better or worse, I still have enough gray matter in my broken brain to think of all the permutations of how our date could go. The date that still feels like it’s in an entirely different calendar year from now. Where we might eat. Our feet touching under the table. Wondering if she’ll gently touch my hands again. What we’ll talk about. What’ll happen after dinner. Will one of us suggest going to a nearby bar to talk more? Will we go back to her place? That’s where most of my daydreams lead. Her place. I haven’t been inside her apartment, but she showed me around a bit when we met virtually for work a few months ago - when I wish I’d more overtly tried to forge a connection so things might be further along by now, but how was I to know I’d feel this way? - and I’ve seen other bits and pieces on Instagram. Still, I have no real concept of the layout, but my brain has created its own blueprint. We walk inside and she offers to get me a drink, and I don’t really want another one because I’ve had one at dinner, but I say yes and hoist myself up onto the kitchen counter while she makes it (a cocktail) or pours it (wine). She brings it over and I barely wait for her to hand it to me before I put it down and we start kissing. In another version, I ask to use the bathroom once we get inside and then, when I’m done, I open the door and she’s just waiting outside for me. We start kissing. That one’s a little weird, I guess. In a different permutation, we sit down on the couch to watch a movie. She asks what movie I want to watch, and I say some version of, “It doesn’t matter… I don’t plan on watching for long.” We start kissing. The last one’s sort of a bold one. I’m not always bold in these situations. Sometimes I am, but only if I feel almost certain that the other person feels the same way I do. When we ran into each other at the bar, she made a comment about wanting to kiss 28 people at her 28th birthday party. A friend who saw us interact reminded me that I apparently responded with, “I hope I’m one of them.” At any rate, impatience is clearly a common thread in all three of these scenarios. No matter the route, all the daydreams lead to the same place.

If my parents’ behavior - the hugging and the toilet paper folding and the grocery shopping and the loving - is any indicator, you would think my attachment style is so firmly, unquestionably secure that I should be memorialized in the Museum of Good Mental Health. Give me a ribbon cutting ceremony, give me pomp, give me circumstance. As it turns out, I might just have an anxious attachment style, which is a realization that only occurred to me relatively recently but I’m sure occurred to my friends 6 crushes ago. It hit me out of the blue one morning when I was brushing my teeth, my intrusive thoughts picking a moment to strike when my defenses were down and I was unable to distract myself. And it makes perfect, crystal clear sense. Being closeted for so long, you get accustomed to feeling wrong. Feeling bad. Feeling like your thoughts aren’t right, you’re different, you don’t belong. You’re so wrong so bad so wrong and so bad. For the longest time I didn’t have many people around me who I knew were queer, so my crushes were either on fictional characters or straight girls. And do you know what fictional characters and straight girls don’t have the capacity to do? Like you back. Return your feelings. Living in a cycle of desperately wanting someone who doesn’t have the ability or desire to want you back does something to a person: after a while, it makes you feel unlovable. You internalize it and conclude you’re not worthy of love. There is a problem, and the problem is you. Reciprocity starts to feel like a never-going-to-happen-thing - it’s not situational, it’s global. And it gets reiterated over and over because you get caught in that dynamic, addicted to the pattern. Even though it’s miserable, it’s familiar. With all that said, I also do want to acknowledge that being a human is hard. I would submit that we all feel insecure and, at times, unworthy of love or even being liked. It doesn’t require trauma or any particular type of hardship to have an obsessive crush, a lack of self-confidence, a difficult time navigating feelings. But I do think my early relationship with my queerness is inherently part of the mix for me, personally.

It feels as if my crush is camping out in my brain. This crush, and all of my baggage surrounding this crush, is making my heart beat really fast and really loud. Have I allowed this to go too far? Undoubtedly yes. Should there also be room for some self-empathy? I think also probably yes. Definitely yes. Someone told me that they like me, and it has sent alarm bells throughout my system. Someone has both the capacity to like me and does like me. And because I have a scarcity mindset when it comes to romantic love, my body is trying to hold on so tightly and doesn’t want to let it go. I keep replaying those moments of compliments and touch and feeling good on a dizzying loop because my brain thinks that might be the last time it will happen. A sign of a crush pulling back - a non-response for a few hours, a different tone, a shortness - it all feels like a total dismissal, my worst fears confirmed. It sends me right past Go, Do Not Collect $200, in fact Why Don’t You Go Right To Loveless Jail! My neural pathways have been carved throughout time to expect rejection and disappointment, but I’m trying to free myself from the tired maze of my own myopic thinking. Ultimately I have no idea how this will turn out, and that’s incredibly anxiety inducing. Gaming out all of the things I’m going to say to her, or where we’ll go on our date, or who will make the first move and what that move will be - it all creates an illusion of control. But this isn’t something I can control. It’s a thing to recognize, look in the face, and surrender to. Another person is a thing I really can not control. Uncertainty is an aspect of reality that no one, including me, is ever free from. I can, however, remind myself that this is not the only good thing I will ever experience. There will be more crushes, more reciprocated feelings, more Can I Kiss Yous?, more grazing hands at a bar. If we’re lucky, we’ll all have many spaces, many places, many people to call home.

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babbushka · 3 years

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Into The Shadows I Follow

Kylo Ren x F!Reader (Set in the Solo Triplet Vampire AU)

A/N: Once again I am so grateful to be participating in the Writer Wednesday challenge as presented and curated by @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape! When I saw this week's photo, I knew I had to bring Vampire!Kylo out of retirement. I hope you all enjoy!

4k; explicit descriptions of blood (blood drinking because, vampires) & NSFW (PIV, desk sex, blood-drinking induced orgasms, body worship)

Available on AO3

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The bells toll seven, as they do at the beginning of every morning. Though Matthias’ synagogue is on the south side of the property, those bells can be heard across the land, and they are the signal for life to wake from its deep slumber once more. They wake you as well, their persistent ringing a gentle yet firm call to rise from the dreams which have kept you company all night long.

Sunlight pours in slim beams of light from the thick drapes which are closed shut, and you know that despite the sound of the bells, your boys will not open their eyes until the drapes are opened and morning light can flood the room.

Stretching, you blink your sensitive eyes open and let out a happy sigh. But when you move to sit up, and as the luxurious silk sheets slip away from your naked body, a pair of strong arms wraps around your middle, pulling you back down.

You are in the big bed, of course. A castle such as theirs has so many grand rooms, and such rooms were not put to use. Each of the brothers have their own wing of the elaborate floor plan, with their own bedrooms and offices, as do you. But every now and again, the three of you find yourselves seeking comfort, and so at the end of a long day and an even longer evening, you retire to the largest bed in the largest room. It is here, in this bed that could surely fit ten people with ease, do you feel the enveloping cocoon of arms around your body.

Smiling, you let yourself be moved by Benji; out of the three of the brothers, he is the least likely to want to start his day. Ben will sometimes sleep for a week straight if he can get away with it, although you tend to not let him, for it often results in a week of pure chaos from all his reserved energy. Mattie on the other hand, likes to keep his schedule, so while Ben remains an iron grip on you nestling you against his chest, Mattie slips out of bed and throws the drapes wide open himself, unlocking the windows and letting the sweet smell of late summer air into the room.

“Ugh.” Is all that Ben has to offer by way of a morning greeting, tucking you underneath his chin, his undead skin smooth like marble against your cheek.

Ben’s hands wander across your naked body, cupping at your breasts and rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, making them stiff underneath his touch. He nudges a knee between your legs, and you can’t help but let out a sleepy eager chuckle at the way he is so keen to fuck you. If he should be awake, he thinks, he might as well enjoy a good morning.

Matthias tsks his tongue against the roof of his mouth though, walking around the enormous bed to sit on the edge of the mattress where you and Ben have rolled away.

“Good morning sweetheart,” Mattie pries you away from his brother, kissing you on the cheek sweetly, that gentle way that he has always treated you, whispering against your sleep mussed hair, “Kylo’s looking for you.”

At that, Ben lets you go with another irritated groan, knowing that if the eldest Organa is in want of you, no one is allowed to interfere.

Oh how things have changed, you think with a smile, as you kiss Ben before leaving the bed. You’re no longer a maid, no, you haven’t been for quite some time, not since that fateful evening a year ago where they professed their love for you and turned you into an immortal just as they are. You’re a Lady now, with a proper title, proper riches, and more affection than you knew what to do with between Kylo and his brothers.

It was undeniable though, that between the three of them, Kylo had the greatest claim on you -- was certainly the most possessive of you, at least -- and so, with the birds of the estate chirping, you know it would not do to keep him waiting, if only you knew where he had snuck off too.

“The study.” Matt replies to your thoughts with ease, and though you are now used to their mind reading -- an ability you were sad to discover you yourself did not develop when you were turned -- it still tingles up the back of your spine.

“That doesn’t help.” You tease playfully, knowing there are a dozen studies in this castle.

Mattie smiles back, kisses you once more, the barest hint of lips upon lips, before draping a robe over your bare body, not saying a word all the while. Then, he is gone, and you know he will likely not leave his scrolls’ side for many hours. Turning to Ben, you find that he has fallen back asleep, so with a fond shake of your head, you leave the room and set about finding Kylo.

-------------------

On the third try, when you knock on the door, there is a shuffling of movement inside that stills, and you know that you’ve found the right study, when a deep voice calls out, “Darling, is that you?”

“Yes, I’m coming in.” Elated, you turn the doorknob and push it open. Before they had changed you, such a task required immense effort, as the doors in the castle were nearly three times your height, and solid wood or stone. But now, with the otherworldly strength afforded to you by immortality, the door opens with ease.

“Hello beautiful girl, good morning.” Kylo is at your side in an instant, still wearing his traveling clothes. He must have only returned then, you think, and Kylo nods, reading your thoughts.

Leaning down, he presses a deep thoughtful kiss to your lips, his hands smoothing up your arms, across your shoulders, trailing up the length of your throat, before landing to cup your cheeks, pulling your face ever closer to his. He smells like smoke, and your eyes slip shut as you indulge in this ritual of breathing each other in, tongues slipping together, hot breath on one another’s teeth.

“Good morning,” You murmur, eyes still shut as he clutches your body to his, feeling through the thin veil of your robe. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and in between deep breaths, you cannot help but ask, “Where did you sneak off to in the middle of the night?”

“I had an errand to run. It was of little importance, but better done sooner than later. I’ve brought you something to make up for it.” He smiles, the sharpness of his teeth grazing against your lower lip -- before he is gone altogether.

He does this often, they all do. On the rare occasions when they leave the castle, they always bring you back something, a token of affection. While Kylo retrieves his gift, you sit yourself down on one of the green velvet armchairs that furnish the room.

This study was one that you and Kylo have spent the least amount of time in, simply because he preferred a study with the fireplace, and this particular room didn’t have one. Still, it was a lovely place very fitting for Kylo, what with its dark wood walls and black iron accents. A double-tall room, there were balconies on each side that housed bookshelves stocked with records as far back as the family had been living there.

On the lower level were plush seating arrangements; two velvet green armchairs and a matching loveseat, as well as two wing-backed armchairs all situated around various rugs and coffee tables. A candle-lit chandelier sparkled like the stars in the center of the room, the only other light coming from two lantern lamps on the ornately carved wooden desk.

Another reason why Kylo didn’t care much for this study was the window -- though it was grand, it always seemed to be blocked by foliage, creating a dark and mysterious aura at all hours of the day.

He returns then, with a small velvet box that he holds with care in his large palm. Eagerly, you nod once, and Kylo slowly opens the lip, revealing a pair of beautiful earrings. They are elaborate, from the clasp which sits through your ear, a flower with rough cut diamonds in each petal dangles. The flower head is attached to a short stem that has six leaves, each leaf also embedded by a diamond. And then as if that were not ornate enough, dangling from the base of the stem is a conical gold and diamond encrusted bead, followed by two freshwater pearls with yet another gold bead sandwiched between them.

It is without a doubt, one of the most intricate pieces of gold jewelry that you have seen, and certainly one of the most elaborate pieces that Kylo has ever given you. Fleetingly, you wonder where he had gone to obtain such jewelry, but Kylo usually never says, and that’s alright with you.

“Won’t you put them on?” He asks softly, and you smile, accepting the earrings carefully.

They are heavy, but not in a way that would become uncomfortable, and when you clasp them through your ears and the light of the chandelier catches the diamonds, sending small sparkles onto your cheek, it’s all Kylo can do to kiss you again and again and again.

“Perfect, you’re absolutely perfect, my marvelous girl.” His teeth are sharp, and his mouth waters as he pulls you as close to him as possible, backing you up against the desk until he’s lifting you just enough to sit you down on the surface.

“You look hungry.” You whisper, your lips ghosting over his, noses rubbing together.

“Starving.” He replies, eyes darkening with something other than bloodlust, lust of another kind entirely, even as he tips your chin up up up with the tip of his finger, exposing your rabbiting pulse. “How lucky are we, that for whatever reason, you did not turn all the way.”

Humming in agreement, you untie the sash of your robe, letting the fabric pool around your hips where it hits the desk. He watches you carefully, his hands clenching and flexing into fists, open close open close, trying his best to be patient as you reveal yourself to him. He saw you last night before leaving of course, but there is something so delicious about sex during the day, in the light of morning, where you can truly see one another.

“We still have no answers for that, do we?” You reach your hands out to him, and at once he steps forward and fills the gap between your bodies, already beginning the tearing apart of his own clothing.

“No, not yet. But it has only been a few months, there is time to find them.” He grunts as your fingers make quick work of his cravat, his own hands popping open the buttons of his vest, and soon after, the shirt that sits underneath it, “Although, I do not think anything will be as lovely as the sound of your heart beating. It would be a shame to silence it.”

“I am in no rush to change,” Your breath quickens as you push the open jacket and vest off of his arms, before lying backwards on the desk, your bare legs spreading for him, “I like this, I like being needed this way.”

His hands pause on the buttons of his breeches for just a moment, drawn instinctively to the glistening between your legs, your pussy just as desperate for him as he is for you. Moving only so much as to shove the breeches down enough to pull his hard cock free, Kylo immediately settles himself between your spread legs, kissing each of your knees as he rubs the head of his cock through your folds.

“We like needing you.” He groans, the velvety heat of your cunt welcoming and so wet, tantalizing in the way it clenches around nothing, wanting to be filled. “Never before has there been blood so sweet, and never again are we to find it anywhere other than you, of that I’m sure.”

He has yet to push himself all the way inside of you yet, a remarkable amount of restraint for a man who hasn’t fucked you in over ten hours. You are not so patient, not so restrained, and so as he hovers himself over your naked body, your hands clutch at his shoulders to pull him down fully on top of you.

“Take your fill, but save some for the others,” Your head lies flush against the desk, throat exposed and lengthed to the best of your ability, breathing out in a thick gasp, “They’ll likely be hungry too.”

“Have you come yet?” Kylo asks, and at this you groan in your frustration at being so close to getting fucked and yet still not being thrust into.

“Kylo, please! I’ve only just awoken.” You complain, and that seems to be the magic words, because as soon as they leave your lips, he has grabbed your hips and pulled them towards his own, your bodies colliding together perfectly as his hard thick cock throbs inside you.

“Good, I like being the first one.” His baritone is deep, it rumbles through your chest as he wastes little time building a rhythm that is steady yet brutal at the same time.

Your feet can’t find any purchase on the edge of the desk like this, so he grabs your ankles with one hand and throws your legs up, resting them against one of his broad muscular shoulders. He kisses an ankle delicately, before ramming his dick so far into you and with such force that it scrapes the desk against the rug.

“Oh yes!” You breathe, a great big grin forming on your face as your eyes shut and you revel in the building pleasure that he gives you. “Yes Kylo, fuck me harder, give me everything!”

His breath comes in heavy pants then, as he listens and gives you exactly what you want, his thrusts speeding up, pulling out just enough to knock the wind out of you when he pushes back in.

If you were mortal, his grip on your hips would have surely broken your bones, but you are not so fragile as you once were, and he doesn’t hold back. He buries himself to the hilt every time, the stretch so delicious and intoxicating that you can’t help but moan loudly, gasping and sighing in sharp surprise each time he grazes against your gspot. Though they all take turns making love with you, it is Kylo who is the most passionate with you, the one who craves you the most.

“Beautiful,” He is hypnotized by the way your body is stretched out on the desk for him, your flesh rippling and bouncing from the force of his thrusting, the sounds of your wet cunt squelching and dripping onto the table, your nipples painfully stiff as your arms are thrown up over your head, “So gorgeous, all ours, ours forever, just like this.”

A prophecy a hundred years ago gave them the hope that you would join them, and every evening since then Kylo has imagined what it would be like to have you, to keep you, should you want this eternal life. He loves you, oh how he loves you! How he has loved the idea of you for so long, desperate to sleep decades away so that he would have you in his dreams, so that he would not have to wake and spend the days without you. A lonely existence it once was, but no longer, he thanks the stars above that it is no longer.

“Yes! Yes, oh Kylo touch me, please I -- I need it.” You moan, arching your back clean off the desk when he fucks your gspot once again, the feeling like lightning as it sparkles across the nerves in your body.

At once, he bends himself over your body and begins a barrage of kisses and bites all across your chest, one of his hands abandoning your hip to press his calloused thumb against your swollen clit. His teeth are so sharp, but he is careful not to draw any blood -- not yet, at least.

No, instead as he continues to thrust wet hot fast hard into your pussy, he sucks and leaves dark marks across your breasts, the stimulation of your nipples only making your cunt drip more more more, your thighs twitching, wanting to wrap around his waist and keep him there forever.

“Louder,” Kylo orders, his eyes black and glittering with a dangerous possessive sort of lust, his fangs protruding out further, “Let the castle know, let the villagers know, let the world know who fucks you so well.”

“Kylo!” You’re shouting now, and somewhere in the back of your mind you hear the door being compelled open by Kylo’s telekenetic abilities so that the castel staff can indeed hear you, and something about that makes your voice carry even louder when you gasp and plea, “Oh fuck, right there Kylo! Your dick’s so big, I -- I’m so close to coming, make me come Kylo, please!”

And he does, oh, how he does, with his tongue his fingers his teeth his cock, he fucks you and pinches at you and rubs at you and sucks sucks sucks at you, so much so that you don’t even realize it at first when his fangs have pierced your throat. But he has latched himself onto you, and your body shudders and jolts and shakes as the fireworks explode behind your eyelids, body going limp from the pleasure.

Somehow, he has enough presence of mind to pull you off the desk and stumble backwards into the velvet armchair that is only a foot or two behind him, tugging you back onto his cock as he sits you on his lap, his fangs never once leaving your throat as your blood floods his mouth.

“Be gentle.” You whisper, as his hands crush your body to his, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling your head and supporting it in his palm as he groans and moans as he drinks you down.

Had you been told years ago that having a vampire drink your blood would feel so good, you would have thrown yourself at the castle gates, begging to be dinner for whomever had lived inside. It is so good in fact, such a thick and heady feeling, that you grow dizzy from it, your body like lightning once again, a second orgasm before you’ve even finished riding the high of your first one.

Kylo can feel it, can feel the pleasure that pulses out of your body, the hot gush of slick that coats his breeches, still half-dressed in all his desperation, and he grinds his hips upwards, a slower, deeper pace set to fuck you through it as he sates all of his hungers.

“Darling I’m -- ” His voice is muffled against your throat, but you don’t need him to speak the words for you to know what he’s going to say, what he’s going to ask.

“Yes, please, come inside me.” You sigh, moving almost in slow motion as you card your hands through his hair, combing the silken dark locks away from his face as he continues to moan and pant against your neck, his hips grinding up up up, fucking you on his lap, until he finally stills and shudders out a deep rumbling orgasm of his own.

The two of you stay like that for some time; your body wrapped around his on the velvet armchair as he clings to you, his eyes shut as he moans out gratitude against your pulse. He’s good about the way he drinks, he never takes too much. You are dizzy and weak afterwards, but never so much that you are in any real danger. Immortality helped greatly with that, even if it wasn’t a complete transformation into the undead as Kylo and his brothers were.

“Thank you, oh fuck, thank you.” His fangs retract back into his gums, and with a bloodied tongue, he licks closed the puncture holes that he has pierced, a kindness to not mar your skin that all three brothers give to you. He noses at one of the golden dangling earrings that have warmed against your skin from all the hot breathing, “I’ll never get tired of that feeling.”

“I should hope not.” You smile softly, a playful jest that has him smiling back -- a rare sight from Kylo.

With trembling hands, you cup Kylo’s cheeks and guide his face to yours, kissing your own blood off of his lips. It doesn’t taste nearly as sweet as your boys think it does, but that’s alright, you’re not the one drinking it after all.

“Can you walk?” Kylo asks after a while, and you let out a silent puff of a laugh, the obvious answer being no.

“In a moment.” You roll your eyes, just wanting to sit there with him for a little while, still so dizzy and sex-drunk that you need to catch your breath and let the room stop spinning for a few minutes. He recognizes this and simply returns to kissing you sweetly, gentle chaste presses of his lips on yours.

-------------------

Like that you both stay, until the bells toll twelve, and the sun is so high in the sky that even through the foliage outside the study window, light streams through in ethereal ribbons between the branches. A streak of light lands on your bodies, and even after all this time of worrying that you’d burst into flame, all that happens is the ever so slight tingling of your skin, no different than that of the way Kylo makes you feel.

Realizing just how late it’s gotten, Kylo groans and carefully pats your thigh, a signal to get off of his lap and stand on your own two feet. He follows suit, and the two of you look at each other, admiring one another’s bodies. He tucks his cock back into his breeches and buttons himself back up, not bothering with the vest or jacket. You reach for your robe, and attempt to fix the disaster that your hair has become, to little success.

“Why don’t we go to lunch and show my brothers your pretty new gift?” Kylo suggests, knowing that the noon bell would draw Mattie and Ben away from their respective activities long enough for a bite or two to eat.

“They’ll be angry with you for not sharing.” You point out, but Kylo only gives you one of his dangerous smiles.

“I know.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, wondering how on earth these boys have gone five hundred years without killing one another, the way they rile each other up so.

Opening the door wider for you, Kylo allows you to step out of the study and into the corridor first like the gentleman that he is, and when you reach out his hand and he whisks you away to the formal dining room, you can’t help but feel so lucky that this is the life that they have given you, and lucky that you still have something you can give to them in return.

As Ben and Mattie both immediately begin to protest that Kylo did in fact keep you all to himself for the entire morning, you satisfy your own hunger with blood drunk from your diamond goblet, smiling to yourself over their bickering antics.

And though there are answers to questions you have asked that remain secret to you, though you may not have the extent of the abilities that they do, you know that no matter where they go, into the shadows so too will you follow.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tagging some Kylo lovin' friends!

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @kylo-ren-is-alive @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea @princessflip @goddessofsprings @mrs-gucci @baubub @bucky-j-barnes @mindyoshiii @beachwoodmonet @darkhairedmenrule @eagerforhoney

#writer wednesday #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #ben solo/reader #matt the radar technician/reader #vampire au #kylo ren smut #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfic #adam driver fanfic #adcu

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foli-vora · 4 years

Text

more than words, pt.2

A/N: Really wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction to pt.1 so thank you all so much for your likes, reblogs, kind words and support! I had a few requests to make a taglist so I’ve done it at the bottom - let me know if you’d like to be added! (and I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone) so - on with the show!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing

pt.1 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

You startle when your phone vibrates on the coffee table, the sudden and abrupt noise of it quick to drag your attention away from the true crime documentary playing across your TV screen. You eye it from your spot on the couch, so far, yet only a mere reach away if you could be bothered to stretch the distance. Your eyes fall back to the TV, happy to just ignore it and address it when you eventually have to move from the cocoon of blankets and pillows you’ve surrounded yourself with, but when the reminder alert sounds two minutes after receiving it, a small voice in the back of your head pipes up, saying it could be something important and you sigh tiredly.

The effort to move pulls a low groan from you and you stretch out, snatching the device from the table and back into the warmth before you could tumble onto the floor and really have something to grumble about.

Hey Benny’s mystery girl, how’s your night going?

The text sends flutters through your stomach, your hands immediately clamming up with a brief wave of nerves. This was the guy that Benny was setting you up with – an apparent very close friend and someone who clearly meant a lot to him. Why did you feel so much pressure to make a good impression?

Blankets, cushions and crime show now forgotten, you straighten up and let your fingers hover over the keypad in contemplation.

Do you play it cool? Act like you have a brimming social life, full of fun and endless options, and are not currently sat at home on a Friday night in your pyjamas watching Netflix, eating an excessive amount of snacks? No. No, you shouldn’t put a false image out there. Honesty is the best policy.

Hey yourself mystery fish. It’s a nice and relaxed night on my end, how about yours?

You leave it at that, briefly wondering if you should quickly chuck your phone on airplane mode, delete the message before it could go through and start again.

Did it sound boring? Is that the kind of image you were throwing out there? Maybe you should’ve acted like you were at least doing something productive. But then… what if Benny was there to call you out on your bullshit, knowing you literally have nothing better to do? He’d gladly do it, too.

You roll your eyes at yourself, wondering why you even cared what this mystery man thought about you and your weekend rituals when you had literally never even met. You were who you were, and that was that. If he didn’t like it, then he could take his handsome face and pretty brown eyes elsewhere.

I’m jealous. Stuck out with the guys and all I can think about is sleeping.

Scratch that. Maybe he was a man after your own heart, after all. A picture of a tray of tequila shots and lemons wedges comes through, another text quickly following which had you giggling quietly to yourself –

I’m too old for this shit.

You grin at your screen, opening your camera and snapping a quick picture of your blanket covered legs, snack covered coffee table and bright TV screen before sending it with a little smirking emoji. You’re not disappointed when he replies almost immediately.

Now I’m really jealous – are those Doritos?

Nacho cheese!

The one and only acceptable flavour. Is that Forensic Files? I binged the shit out of that the other day!

OMG it’s so good!

Surprisingly, your eyes didn’t feel as heavy as you thought they would when your alarm drags you from sleep the next morning. You could even say you were looking forward to waking up, which was not how your Saturday mornings usually played out.

Immediately you reach over for your phone and unlock it, smiling like an idiot at the Home safe :) text waiting for you. You chew your lip as you scroll through the many bubbles of conversation, stomach twisting in delight as you re-read through the topics you managed to bounce through in the few hours of texting before you had to call it quits at 2:14am and send a final – Goodnight Frankie x

You had paced your apartment after that, ringing your hands together anxiously and eyeing the clock as the seconds ticked past, scowling at your reflection in the mirror as you took your worries out on your teeth, scrubbing them much harder than necessary. Was a kiss too much? Is it too early for that kind of thing? You had only literally just started talking. Should you quickly text and say it was an accident? It’s not like you can say you sent it to the wrong person – the message had his fucking name in it.

The sound you made when you got a – Sweet dreams mystery girl x – in return wasn’t even remotely human and the words swirled around your head long after you fell asleep.

The reservations you had originally developed on being set up, yet again, quickly dissipated the longer you and Frankie exchanged messages. There had been no awkward block of nothing between texts, no dragging up mediocre subjects to keep the conversation rolling… it had just flowed so effortlessly, so naturally – something which had never happened before with Benny’s previous candidates. The only other candidate that you had managed to have a comfortable conversation with was Will, and that was only after you had both agreed that there was no attraction between the two of you.

Over text, Frankie seemed funny – quick witted and sarcastic – and often had you snorting into your drink over a comment or joke made at his own or his friends’ expenses. No, you weren’t even remotely hesitant about this anymore. If anything, your evening of conversation just made you that much more eager to meet him.

It’s much later in the day when you finally message him, having kept the temptation to message him at bay while you tidied up, keeping it short and sweet with a, How’s the head? You chew your lip, eyes flicking over the message with thoughtful eyes before quickly tagging a little kiss on the end and pressing send. Not even two minutes later, your phone goes off on the coffee table and the clammy hands return tenfold when you read over the message a good fifteen times.

Can I call?

Shit. Shit. He wants to call? And like… talk? With voices? What if you stutter? Choke? Oh god, your throat’s dry. It’s dry – how can you talk with a dry throat? You can’t. Fuck. Fuck. Drink – you need a drink –

You quickly run to the kitchen, filling a glass of water and swallowing it down as quickly as you could, not at all caring that it half spills down your chin and onto your jumper. You gasp for air when you finish, slamming the glass down and catching the drips of water from your chin with the back of your hand. You slide across your floor as you run back out to your couch and grab your phone, typing a quick reply.

Yeah sure.

Too casual. Was that too casual? Should you have added a kiss? Shit – it’s already sent. It’s fine. It’s fine. He asked a short question, and he got a short answer. It makes sense. It’s fine. You yelp when your phone starts to vibrate in your hand, his contact name flashing across the screen.

Oh God.

He’s calling. He’s somewhere out there, phone to his ear, waiting for you to answer and you’re what – standing in your lounge and looking at your phone, watching it ring, like an idiot? What are you doing?

You inhale deeply, clearing your throat a little before swiping the green icon.

“Hi,”

Oh God, what was that? What was that tone?

“Hey. Sorry – looking at my phone screen and trying to reply was making my eyes feel like they’re exploding.”

His voice is deep, hoarse from his night of drinking, and overwhelmingly pleasant to listen to. It brings a flush of warmth across your cheeks, an electric tingle across your skin.

You laugh softly, “It’s alright. Tequila wasn’t a good idea, then?”

He grunts quietly and your stomach tightens, throat suddenly dry again at the suggestive sound.

“It never is.” He groans, melting into a long yawn and you start to feel a little guilty. Did your text wake him up?

“I’m sorry, I should let you sleep –”

“No! No, it’s fine. I uh – I really want to talk to you… if you’re not busy.” He adds onto the end, almost nervously.

“I’m not busy,” you reassure quietly, smiling shyly down at your lap. “I’m all yours.”

He chuckles lowly, and the sound settles deep in your belly, “Good.”

You don’t understand how conversation could just be so... easy with someone you’ve never met. For a brief moment, you worry you might be talking too much, maybe boring him, but when he keeps asking questions, encourages you to continue, you think that maybe he doesn’t mind, maybe he actually is just interested in what you’re saying.

When dinner comes around, you’re in a fit of giggles as you prepare your food, listening to pots and pans bang and clash on the other end as Frankie prepares his own meal. You cook together, eat together, and then settle in front of Netflix together, debating back and forth on what to watch. The evening melts into night, one movie turns into two, and eventually conversation dies down.

Sometime in the night, you roll over, briefly waking to fix and fluff the pillow under your head when a sound makes you pause. Your head jerks up and you look around, finding yourself sprawled across the couch, and a blanket twisted around your legs.

Glancing over to your phone to check the time, you touch the screen and blink in surprise when you see your phone call is still connected with Frankie, who’s quiet on the other end. You move to press the red button but freeze when a soft snore sounds from the device, and a warm flood of affection grows in your heart and spreads throughout your chest.

He’s asleep.

You listen a moment longer, smiling tenderly when more quiet snores reach your ears. Instead of hanging up, you bring the phone closer, tucking it just beside your pillow before laying your head back down and closing your eyes, letting the quiet breathing soothe you back to sleep.

If the strong butterflies turning your stomach were anything to go by, you were in serious trouble.

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh @peterhollandkait @sara-alonso @starlightsearches @bookishofalder @empress-palpat1ne @shadowolf993 @rosiefridayrogersunday @canyonmirrors @eoz-stuff @blackonemasie @layniapetrovnaaa

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #no benny in this chap #but he's coming

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Text

I’m home - Bakugou x reader

Synopsis: Day after day you return home from work to either find your apartment empty or your husband asleep. Your last joint day off is also quite a while back, so you can’t help but feel rather lonely. And as if that wasn’t enough, you read an interview where your man had to give an insight on his married life with you and the questions he had to answer weren’t as pleasant as expected ...

tags/warnings: Bakugou x reader ✅ fluff ✅ (more or less) some domestic bliss ✅ minimal angst ✅

crossed off square: Take a day off

A/N: This has been in my WIPs for waaay too long, so I’m finally happy to have finished it. Hope you’ll enjoy it! (°◡°♡)

→ BINGO Event masterlist

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

“Katsuki..“

“Hm?”

“When was the last time our day-offs were on the same day?”

——

You unlocked the front door to your apartment and stepped in as you silently announced that you were home, waiting for an answer which sadly never came.

So he’s still at work, huh?

With heavy steps, you slowly moved towards your living room, fully expecting to see your husband lying utterly exhausted on the black sofa. Much to your dismay, the only thing you saw was his Ground Zero themed jacket you had surprised him with on Valentine’s day last year.

A sigh escaped your mouth as you let your eyes scan the emptiness you called home, and that’s when you noticed something peculiar peeking out of one of your trash cans.

Upon taking a closer look at it, you realized that it was the latest issue of the monthly ‘My HERO!’ magazine, you always made sure to buy so that you could keep track of what your husband, as well as his friends, were up to.

“Katsuki, you dummy, I still haven’t read it yet, you know?” you mumbled to yourself while you took it out of the waste-paper basket and glanced at the cover picture.

A tall and bulky man whose red shirt emphasized his toned muscles perfectly took up almost the entire space of the booklet. His long black hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and if one looked closely, it was evident that there were still some red streaks left from back in his student days where he used to maintain a completely crimson hairstyle.

There were some of this issue’s top stories listed on the front page, so you skimmed through the short extracts.

Earphone Jack: A life between a hero and a rockstar

“With Sensei’s help”: The way someone from the general department became one of the TOP 20 heroes

ICY-HOT: How to not only follow into your father’s footsteps but completely obliterate them

“Let me show you how it’s done”: Red Riot’s guide to becoming the manliest hero of society and women’s hearts

Some of these headlines were quite funny to you, but that positive mood only lasted until you saw your husband’s name.

Exclusive interview: How is Katsuki Bakugou’s married life going?

Even though the title wasn’t anything exceptional, you couldn’t deny that it felt a bit suggestive and provocative at the same time. Curious as you were, you immediately looked up the corresponding pages and began reading through them.

The questions didn’t differ that much from other typical Q&A sessions with other prominent figures of society. Still, some tried to imply that Bakugou didn’t seem as happy as some other married pro heroes, and that implication was making you quite sad.

At some point, this little questionnaire got quite personal, and even if your husband was trying his best to maintain at least some kind of privacy, the reporter just couldn’t take a hint and continued prying. You could’ve only imagined just how mad he must’ve been at this point, but what interested you most were his answers.

Q: So, how are the two of you managing the housework?

A: It heavily depends on who comes home first, but both of us are trying to take as much load off as possible from the other.

Q: Do you suspect there might be a different reason for your wife’s late returns?

A: I don’t know what you’re trying to point at, but no, I don’t. She might not be a hero like me, but she’s still a very busy woman, and there are some days on which she even comes home when I’m already asleep.

Q: Aren’t there times when you wish to come home and see that everything’s been taken care of by her?

A: If I wanted a maid, then I would’ve simply hired one.

You angrily closed the magazine and stomped towards the sofa, where you plumped down and began pouting like a small child.

Now I know why he threw it away…

Those questions were nothing but pure incitement from the reporter who tried to subtly accuse you of being unfaithful and imply that whatever you were doing was insufficient for such a great hero like him.

Exhausted, you lay down and held onto your man’s jacket, the mix of his favorite cologne, and his scent instantly managed to calm you down a bit. You began imagining how he was kneeling in front of you, running his fingers along your hair while trying to calm your raging heart down by saying that these people knew nothing about his or your private life, and slowly but surely your eyelids grew heavy until they completely closed.

——

“I’m home.”

After quietly announcing his return, Bakugou disrobed his coat and kicked his shoes off his feet. Upon noticing your footwear, he immediately headed for the bedroom to see if you had already gone to sleep, but much to his surprise, you weren’t there. The thought that you were still at work crossed his mind as he scratched the back of his neck, a disappointed sigh escaping his mouth.

He dragged his feet across the floor and headed for the kitchen. When his red eyes fixated that magazine he had thrown away some hours ago, the unpleasant memories returned.

I thought I threw that garbage away.

Just as the man was about to repeat what he’d done today, a particular figure caught his attention.

(Y/N)...

Looking at your sleeping form while tightly holding onto his jacket was both calming but saddening as well. The question you asked him some days ago was still haunting his mind.

When was the last time our day-offs were on the same day?

He knew that this question wasn’t supposed to hint at something, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. In truth, Bakugou had always requested that his day-offs were on days where you would work so that he could at least help you out even a little bit with the housework. The happy and surprised facial expressions you did when you saw just how much your boyfriend had done around the house always filled him with enormous self-satisfaction, so he figured: why not continue that way?

But now that this stupid interview had planted a small seed of doubt in his mind and after seeing you desperately clinging onto a piece of fabric that bore his smell, it made him realize that he’d lost sight of something quite more crucial than just simple relief of fewer dishes to wash.

His calloused fingers gently caressed your cheek while his red eyes focused on your slightly parted lips. He’d given everything to wake you up with a kiss on the lips, but there was no way he could cope with the guilt he would’ve felt from robbing these small but much-needed minutes of rest. Instead, he carefully picked you up like the princess you were for him, gently leaned your head on his shoulder, carried you to the big and fluffy bed the two of you had picked out together some years back. He was relieved to see that he’d been successful in not waking you up while he’d laid you down as carefully as possible.

After tucking you in like a cocoon, Bakugou shut the door behind him and pulled his mobile phone out of his jean’s pockets, frantically searching for a particular man’s number, and when he’d finally found the one he was looking for, he made no halt. He straight out called it while completely disregarding the fact that it was almost 1 AM.

A tired and grumpy voice picked up after the fourth ting, demanding to know just what the blond needed at such an ungodly hour.

“A favor...it’s about this week’s day-off.”

——

The next day you woke up to someone gently poking your cheeks, and when you finally managed to squint your eyes open, the first thing that stood out to you were spiky blond hairs.

“Katsuki..?” you asked in a silent voice, still unsure whether he was truly standing before you or not.

Said man changed his tactic and softly moved some of your hair from your eyes as he answered: “Yeah, it’s me. Now stop dawdling and get up or you’ll be late for work.”

Just as he was about to make some space for you to get out of bed, you wrapped your arms around his waist, which almost made the both of you fall over...almost.

“You little...what do you think you’re doing, huh?”

A muffled giggle was your answer to his rhetorical question, and no matter how hard he tried to get you off of him, you refused to let go, so for better or worse, he had to return your embrace and stay that way until you were satisfied.

After that short but wholesome cuddle session with your husband, you finally started doing as told and prepared for the upcoming workday.

“Alright then...I’ll be leaving,” you announced half loud, conscious of being a possible disturbance for your still sleeping neighbors while looking back at the already dressed up man behind you. Bakugou was standing there, and after seeing the desolate expression on your face, he immediately spread his arms, initiating the embrace you were so desperately looking for. While his arms rested on your back, rubbing it ever so gently you took his scent in, kissing his neck ever so gently, and wished him a good day.

——

“I’m home.”

You took a look around your dark apartment smiling sadly at the fact that your husband hadn’t come back yet, so you did what you always do on lonely evenings such as these: prepare some dinner, run a bath, surround yourself with soft blankets and watch your favorite shows and movies until you eventually drift off to sleep. The last thing you did before sleep caught up to you was check your phone’s calendar and check whether your partner’s day off matched yours and it sadly didn’t.

Alone tomorrow as well, huh…?

You had fallen asleep on such a sad and rather negative thought that it had killed your entire motivation for the following day. The moment you opened your eyes you immediately wanted to fall asleep yet again, so you turned yourself and were now facing your lover’s bed part. Suddenly something rather peculiar caught your eye. His bedside was way messier than when you slept alone, which could only mean that he had come home at some point and that’s when you heard a silent thud coming from beyond your room.

Could it be..?

You slowly got up and when you opened the bedroom door you were greeted by a rather funny sight. Bakugou was holding onto the kitchen counter with one of his hands and with the other he held his foot and was swearing silently something about how the ‘shitty counter’ had been in his way. He at first didn’t notice your presence but the moment you giggled softly his red eyes darted back to where you were standing.

“S-Shit…! Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to wake you!” he apologized in a silent voice. Instead of answering you simply jogged up to him and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. This gesture was all he needed and his former anger was instantly blown away.

His strong arms glide along your back while his lips plant multiple gentle kisses on your temple. This gentle way of treating you wasn't something so uncommon and every time he did it it made you incredibly happy.

While you cuddled a sudden question crossed your mind that you couldn’t help but ask.

“Say Katsuki...it’s not like I’m ungrateful for you being here, but...isn’t your day off tomorrow?”

You expected him to get grumpy or insulted, but his reaction was quite the opposite of what you braved yourself for. The grin that appeared on his face was one full of pride and satisfaction, it was as if he had waited for that question.

“Well, what a coincidence of you to ask! Best Jeanist called me yesterday and said that he has to reschedule my free day for today, so I figured that I’d surprise you with some pancakes and grace you with my presence!”

His arrogant way of proclaiming this was a rather exaggerated attempt to hide the fact that he was actually the one who called up his superior at 1 AM in the morning, requesting the switch in days.

Normally such a sudden change wouldn’t be possible, but Best Jeanist had a hunch that his sidekick’s decision was most likely because of that interview he had a few days. The pro hero still remembered the way the blond had stormed into his office, screaming something about the audacity of the interviewer, about how these extras were lucky he held back, and how he’d make sure to ‘accidentally’ blow up their main building the next time he fought a villain. Considering his outburst, the older one figured that the questions must’ve been entirely different than anticipated so he decided to wait for the magazine’s next issue to release so that he could have a look as well.

You simply smiled to yourself and pressed your cheek on Bakugou’s trained chest, while the soft and pleasant smell of pancakes and sandalwood reached your nose. The two of you stayed like that for a couple of minutes until your husband gently pet your back, a subtle signal to signalize that it was time for the two of you to let go. With his warm hand still on your back he softly navigated you to one of the chairs he’d placed around your kitchen island and waited until you sat down so that he could serve you his fluffy creations.

“Et voilà! Katsuki’s extra fluffy and freshly prepared pancakes...hope you’ll enjoy them” he announced in a warm tone and kissed your cheek.

Looking at these soft goddesses you couldn’t help but lick your lips in anticipation, but you decided to wait for your beloved to join you so that you could dig in at the same time. It took a short while to persuade the blond who insisted that you start without him so that he could enjoy your blissful expression, but he yielded in the end.

His red eyes studied your positive reaction to the warm breakfast he’d prepared and a loving smile adorned his lips as he listened to the countless positive comments you uttered in regards to it.

Good thing I managed to escape her grasp this morning, ‘cause this expression is so worth it.

While you happily ate one bite after the other, Bakugou recalled today’s morning and how you had subconsciously wrapped your arms around his body and were cuddling up to him. The temptation to just lie there with you and shower your face with kisses until you woke up on your own was truly big, but he repeatedly told himself that your expression when you met him in the kitchen would be ten times cuter and more satisfying...and he was right.

“Hey (Y/N)...I love you, I really do” he said in a silent and almost soothing voice as he gently wiped off some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. You looked at him with slightly widened eyes. Your husband wasn’t that good with words as some so you often had to read between the lines and yet, this time you knew exactly what brought this sudden confession on.

The interview…

After swallowing that small bite of pancake which you’d been chewing on for a tad too long, you got up and walked around the edges of the island that separated you from your loved one.

The blond seemed to follow your line of thought and got up from his chair as well, already spreading his arms and readying himself for your embrace. When you were standing face to face with him you instinctively went for a hug and squeezed him as hard as you could while he placed his forehead on your shoulder and took in your pleasant smell.

It was at times like these where the thoughtfulness of your usually brash and impudent husband came to light and managed to cosy you along with his actions rather than his words.

While you were clinging onto his shirt the trash bin at the corner of your kitchen caught your eye and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you recognized the familiar and slightly wadded front page of a certain magazine…

#bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #━𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 #━𝙼𝙷𝙰

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thran-duils · 3 years

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Doll Me Up (P.9)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Nine) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,991 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: I apologize if the tags haven’t been working. I was using the new beta editor but I’ve switched back to traditional! BTW, I think I am coming up to the close on the fic soon! Just a head’s up.

Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~A month ago…

You heard someone walk into the living room and you peeked out from your cocoon of blankets you had set up for yourself, curled up on the couch, watching tv. Happy cocked an eyebrow seeing you, his eyes running over the seltzer water and all the blankets.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I don’t feel great,” you said, taking another sip of your water. You wished Tony was home, but he had gone on a business trip. Happy had stayed behind to keep an eye on you. Tony trusted him more than any of his other men to make sure you were kept safe in his absence.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” Happy asked concerned.

You shrugged, “I’m just nauseous. I don’t think it’s anything serious. I might have eaten something bad.”

Happy did not look convinced. “Tell me if it gets worse. And I’ll get you an appointment.”

Nodding, you picked your water back up and took another drink, hoping the carbonation would help settle your stomach. You did not even bother to tell Tony later around dinner time when he called to check in, brushing it off.

It subsided later in the day and you thought you were in the clear until the next morning – very early, 4:00am – it hit again. Groaning, you could not ignore the swirling and you got out of bed, rubbing at your eyes.

FRIDAY set on the baseboard lights as you walked downstairs to guide your way.

You opened the bag of bread and took a slice out, stuffing it into your mouth as you closed the bag back up. Taking a large bite, you chewed slowly. Maybe you were having acid reflux and the bread would help soak it up.

You meandered, swallowing the first bite, as you approached the door to the patio. You laid your hand on it and it unlocked for you. Stepping outside, you inhaled the fresh air deeply. That made you feel slightly better.

<><><>

In Berlin, Tony’s watch beeped. He looked away from the table where he was having a late lunch with a fellow boss and their crew that was helping him secure capital in the city. FRIDAY was alerting him that Y/N had activated the system to go outside. His face screwed up in confusion, calculating quickly what time it was back home in Malibu. It would be a little after 4:25am.

“Excuse me, would you?” Tony asked and the other boss nodded, taking a drink of their beer. Tony slipped his tablet out of his bag as he left the table.

Walking away from the table, he moved towards the balcony overlooking the city. Holding the tablet up, he accessed the cameras at home, pulling up the outside cameras since she had left to the patio. He was on edge, wondering what the hell she was doing outside so early.

She was just sitting in one of the chairs, eating a piece of bread, which only served to confuse him more. But at least she was there; she had not run off.

He watched her for a few moments before movement by the door caught his eye and he saw Happy step outside.

“Good man,” Tony said under his breath, knowing FRIDAY would have alerted Happy too in the guest room he was in per Tony’s programming. He would have been severely disappointed if Happy had not come outside to check on her.

The two of them were speaking and Tony did not miss the concerned look on Happy’s face.

Suddenly, Y/N jerked forward, vomiting all over the cement, barely missing Happy’s slippers much to Tony’s shock. Was she hung over? That would explain the bread.

Happy came closer and his hand came to her back, steadying her as she leaned over the side of the chair. He was speaking quickly to her and she shook her head, and he shook his right back at her. Tony watched Happy settle her back and hold up a hand to her, before he went back towards the door, leaving her out there.

When he came back out, he had some napkins and some water. She shook her head at the water and he forced it towards her.

“Looks like someone had a little too much fun last night,” Tony said to himself before closing the camera. He had no further reason to be concerned about it; it looked like Happy had it perfectly under control.

Which is why when he had just got sat back down at the table, his cell phone started to ring. The other boss laughed at his expense, making a comment about him being a busy man. Tony apologized and checked his watch, seeing it was Happy. He excused himself again quickly and got up.

“What?” Tony asked. “I just got sat down at the table.”

“I’m gonna make an appointment for Y/N. Where do you want her to go?” Happy cut in immediately.

“What? What for?”

“She doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, I saw. Got a good view of that vomit. How much did she have to drink last night?”

“Nothing. She didn’t drink anything,” Happy told him, surprising Tony. “She didn’t feel well yesterday either and I told her to tell me if it got worse. Did she tell you when she spoke to you on the phone last night?”

“No. What do you mean she’s not feeling well?”

“Nausea she said. Maybe she has a stomach bug, I don’t know. But food poisoning doesn’t generally last two days.”

Tony rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Um, just take her to my guy. She’s on my insurance plan. She’s been to him before.”

“Not the ER?”

“You think it’s an ER type of situation?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, throwing up usually isn’t an ER thing but I don’t know.”

“Did she throw up yesterday?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“No other symptoms?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” Tony said to himself more than anything. He pondered on it and tapped the railing as he weighed the options. Something came to him then and he straightened up. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought more about it.

“Boss?”

Shaking his head, Tony cleared his throat, “You know, no. On second thought, no. No doctor or ER.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m heading back tonight. You know, if she starts showing other symptoms, take her to the doctor. My guy. But I think she’ll be fine.”

Happy said slowly, “Um, alright…”

“Morning sickness, Hap. Not to get too excited about it yet but… fits the bill.”

“Oh,” Happy said and Tony could hear the realization peaking in his voice. “Right.”

“So, just keep an eye on her. I’ll be on the plane soon and then I’ll just stop on the way home at the pharmacy. Get a test,” Tony said, feeling lighter about the situation. “Order her some 7-Up or something, soups. Just keep her comfortable for me, yeah?”

“You got it,” Happy confirmed.

<><><>

“We have lunch plans, but Tony is taking forever,” you told Steve as the two of you boarded the elevator to go down further into the building.

Anticipation was nipping at your heels; you had not explored this part of the building yet. Steve had come to speak to Tony but when he was told by Angelica that Tony was busy, he was quick to brush off needing to see him. He just needed to go downstairs to pick something up. You had practically thrown down the magazine you were pretending to read, asking if you could come with. He had been polite and courteous, telling you he would love the company. Angelica looked like she wanted to say something, but you purposely ignored her, walking by and following Steve.

“Oh? Where are you going for lunch?” Steve asked interested.

“This place Pepper suggested. Mario’s. Up in the Bronx.”

“Never been.”

“I trust her opinion. She seems to know what she’s talking about.”

“That she does,” Steve smiled back.

“What are you doing here though?” you inquired, switching gears.

“I need another set of batteries for one of my weapons.”

“You couldn’t go to the store?” you asked confused.

Steve chuckled, throwing you an amused look. “No, they’re special batteries.”

“Oh…”

Steve immediately noticed your embarrassment and he quickly said, “Not like you would know that. That’s something I would think too. But the batteries are special. What you said was logical.”

Logical. Not an adjective you heard attributed to you often. Maybe never.

The elevator door opened, and you hesitated seeing the men standing guard outside it but Steve strode out, unperturbed by them. You followed him, catching up to his long strides.

“Why did you want to come down here though besides Tony taking too long?” Steve asked, eyeing you curiously as the pair of you walked.

“One, I was bored as you can imagine, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing. And two, Tony didn’t let me see anything except his office or the boardroom since I’ve been here. Said it wasn’t important for me to see it. But I want to.”

“Hmm,” Steve said shooting you a look. “You think you should be down here then?”

“I don’t see why not. I can keep secrets well enough if that’s what everyone is worried about.”

Steve’s lips curled into a soft smile at that, his eyes running over you.

You were taking in all the people working, the technology they were using. It was like the garage back home where Tony worked but far, far more busy. It was a little overwhelming.

Steve was nodding at random people who greeted him in awe. He came to a stop in front of someone though standing behind a desk.

She looked up and smiled, recognizing him on sight. “That was quick, Cap.” He eyes turned to you and she faltered, “And…”

“Y/N. Tony’s wife,” Steve introduced you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you,” she apologized immediately. You took note that her bade said her name was Eva.

“How could you have? I’ve never been down here before,” you said, giving her a small reassuring smile.

She relaxed at your calm demeanor and turned to grab something off the desk behind her. Handing it to Steve, she told him, “So, there’s backups in there too so you don’t need to make another trip so soon.”

“Nice, that’s thoughtful. Thank you,” Steve commented.

“You’re going to want to update your system though. I’ll send you a link to do so on the secure network,” Eva went on explaining.

“Alright, I’ll figure it out.” Steve looked at you and said sheepishly, “Tech isn’t my strong point. I have gotten better though, so there’s hope.”

“I can’t keep up with Tony sometimes and I’ve been around technology my whole life. I mean, my whole house is a giant computer essentially,” you responded. “Could not even begin to explain to you how it works.”

“It’s complicated but it’s helpful right?” Eva asked lightheartedly. You nodded and she said, “I’ll be the first to admit I wouldn’t be able to keep up with how Mr. Stark talks about tech either. Could not even begin to fathom how his brain works. I swear he’s not speaking English sometimes when he’s giving presentations.”

You snorted, as did Steve. “I can attest to that,” Steve agreed. “I just let him lead when it comes to this type of stuff.”

You could relate to that. You let Tony lead in pretty much every facet.

“Same. It’s just easier to stand behind him,” you said. Steve’s brow creased at your comment and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. Trying to draw attention away from it, you gestured at the box. “May I?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said, handing it over to you.

You opened the box and touched the odd shaped metal. “Definitely doesn’t look like normal batteries.”

“Nope,” Eva agreed.

Steve was looking at you with purpose when you handed the box back to him. His gaze slid to Eva and he asked, “Do you have some time?”

“For what, Mr. Rogers?”

“A small tour. Mrs. Stark hasn’t been able to see around the building because Tony has been busy, and a little explanation of some things down here might scratch her itch?” Steve looked at you for approval. “I mean, if you want that, of course.”

Excitement flared up and you nodded, “Yeah. I probably have time. Especially if there’s things to look at that won’t put me in a ‘we can show you but then we will have to kill you’ type of spot.”

Eva laughed at that. “There’s some of that available, yes.” She gestured past the desk behind her. “Shall we?”

Steve held out his arm to you and you took it appreciatively.

Eva started at a microchip, explaining it had the startings of being able to upload a personality to a robot to mimic a sentient being.

“So, like Vision?” you asked.

“Yes. Like Vision. But definitely nowhere near as advanced or powerful as he is. This is… it would be like a bodyguard for example?”

“A nanny for the baby when you need a break?” Steve joked quietly into your ear. You looked at him perplexed at the admission he knew and his smile fell. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—Tony told the team. I’m sorry if it was still supposed to be a secret?”

You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine. It’s you guys he told. You’re not nobodies.”

Though you did dislike that Tony was being so free with the information. You were only about two months along. He was getting too excited about it too soon whereas you were worried, your pessimism getting the better of you.

“And I’m sure I’ll need a break,” you joked back to Steve and he relaxed as the two of you followed Eva, her pointing things out that she could share.

You were so engrossed in what she was saying you only saw Tony’s reflection in the glass wall behind her at the last second.

You turned your head quickly and said innocently, “You’re done upstairs, then?”

“Rogers,” Tony said tightly, his eyes shooting to your arms intertwined before snapping back to Steve’s face. He looked very suspicious; you knew that look. Jealousy.

“Tony,” Steve returned, and he gracefully let your arm fall. He held up the box, “Thanks for the battery replacement. And the reminder to come grab it. I definitely would have forgotten without it.”

Tony by stepped his last comments. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Steve said, tossing Eva a look. He held up the box to her now and said, “Thanks for being so prompt with this. It was helpful. And thanks for the walk.”

<><><>

When they were out of earshot, Tony told him firmly in hushed tones, “I’m not sure why you thought it was appropriate but don’t bring Y/N down here in the future.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know she wasn’t allowed until we were already down here,” Steve said and he saw Tony frown deeply. “She did say you didn’t wanna show her around the building after we came down here and I did ask if she thought she should be down here at all. Figured to just keep her close until we went back upstairs.”

“No, she shouldn’t be down here. I don’t want her knowing anything. Puts her at risk, knowledge. Kidnappings and whatnot.”

“I think being married to you, Tony, is what puts her at risk for that.”

Tony’s closed lipped smile did not reach his eyes; he was not amused with Steve’s quip.

“Regardless, for the future, don’t let the curiosity kill the cat. She’s better off naïve about it. Even if she’s learning on the arm of America’s golden boy.”

Silence ate away at the two of them for a few moments before Steve shrugged, relenting. He said stoically, “Understood.”

“Good,” Tony clipped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife and I have lunch plans and I fear I’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

Steve shook his head as soon as Tony brushed past him, leaving him by the elevator.

<><><>

You had thanked Eva before telling her she should probably go back to work now that the boss was in the room. She picked up on your joke but did it all the same. You paced slowly, watching carefully as Tony spoke with Steve. They were both tense and you sighed, knowing he was likely cursing Steve for assisting you down here. He really did not want you to know anything about most of his work whether it be here or out on the streets or in the political arena.

He came back to you and you gave him a smile, that he did not return.

“What were you doing down here?” he asked tightly, his hand coming to the small of your back and directing you back towards the elevator where he had left Steve who had already gone back up.

“Looking around,” you told him. “I was bored.”

“Do you not remember me telling you to not go poking around?”

“Yes, but I was curious.”

“It would make me happy if you would listen to me,” Tony said, nodding at one of his workers as he passed. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, kitten?”

“85 percent of the time,” you quipped, trying to get him to smile. But he still did not and your own slowly melted away as he responded.

“I think that sounds about right.”

There was something off about him, but you could not figure out what. You elected to stay quiet the rest of the stride to the elevator. He pressed the button to the elevator to come back down, his fingers on his other hand drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. Every so often though, his fingers dug in slightly and you did your best to not flinch away.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #mob tony stark #darl marvel fic #dark marvel #my shit

101 notes · View notes

on-a-lucky-tide · 4 years

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This is a dedication to @goldandlights. Not exactly Christmas yet, but I didn’t think you’d mind it early. Thank you for all the beautiful art, headcanons and general loveliness you provide to the fandom. Also, thank you @lookoutrogue for pointing out the opportunity!

Lambert always starts winters at Kaer Morhen inside a blanket fort. Eskel’s the key to unlocking the gates in time for the winter solstice…

There was a mound of growling furs in the kitchen. That wasn’t unusual for winters at Kaer Morhen. For the first few days, it was important to leave the mound alone. It was testy, prone to biting and only occasionally showed signs of life when Vesemir placed a bowl of food or a goblet of alcohol down nearby. Sometimes the warm cocoon would flatten when its occupant left to bathe in the springs or relieve himself, but he’d soon return, hissing or growling at anyone who stepped in his way.

After some time to rest and acclimate, the mound of furs would disperse to reveal a cantankerous young wolf ready to train in the courtyard with his brothers and pull his weight when it came to the chores. However, there was one catalyst needed to begin this process of emergence; a healthy dose of Eskel.

Jaskier and Geralt arrived first. The bard, excited and eager to meet everyone, had almost disturbed the mound of Lambert, enticed by the fluffy hair he could see poking out one end where he hadn’t tucked his head away completely. Geralt reached out and took his elbow to guide him away. “No, not yet. Wait for Eskel to arrive,” he said softly, so as not to disturb the rumbling creature curled up by the fire.

Eskel arrived a day later. Cold and bedraggled, he shared an embrace, a drink and his first meal with Geralt, Jaskier and Vesemir before heading to the baths to restore some warmth to his limbs and shave away a week’s worth of beard. He stopped by his own room to dump his bags just inside the door, taking only a familiar glass jar of sweet smelling oil and a book of Aen Seidhe fairy tales with him to the kitchen. Vesemir had piled up the fire; the heat washed over Eskel’s exposed skin and he smiled gently at the pile of furs, blankets and pillows before it.

The body beneath shifted—a ripple passed from one side to the other—and a tuft of dark fluffy hair popped up at one side as Lambert revealed just a small part of his face to scent the air. “You’re late,” said a growly, petulant voice.

“Sorry, got caught up in Kaedwen,” Eskel shucked out his clothes—just trousers and shirt—folded them neatly nearby and crawled beneath the blankets. The interior was warm and saturated in Lambert’s scent; spiced apple cider with a hint of something deep and musky that made Eskel’s mouth water. He ran his nose through the bristles on Lambert’s jaw as warm limbs bound around him; their legs weaved together, Lambert’s hands running over the familiar curves and angles of his torso in a slow, careful exploration.

“This is new,” Lambert whispered into Eskel’s hair as gentle fingers slid over a jagged line wrapping his hip. It was still sensitive and the muscles of Eskel’s stomach clenched, body responding to tender caresses with a shiver of enjoyment. “Haven’t even touched you properly and you’re already shaking, old man. Sure you’ve got a good session in you?” Lambert drawled, tilted his head back as blunt teeth grazed the arch of his throat.

“Good to see your attitude’s survived another year,” Eskel breathed against warm skin, before consuming it with a hungry kiss that left a red mark in its wake when he moved on. He didn’t usually dabble in verbal sparring; his hands and lips did all his talking for him when it came to Lambert. The younger wolf arched against him as his mouth reached his collarbone, one muscular thigh lifting to hook over his hip. The warm, velvet skin of their cocks brushed together as they both filled out. Eskel, starved of touch and intimacy for so long, knew he wouldn’t last long this round. Lambert was too intoxicating, like the spiced mead of Beltane that formed the main notes of his scent. The taste of his sweat and the smell of his arousal overwhelming, intensified by the cocoon of heavy blankets around them.

“Ahh, fuck, yeah,” Lambert’s fingers wound through Eskel’s hair, still slightly damp from his bath, and tugged with barely contained enthusiasm as Eskel’s tongue swirled around his chest. Dark hair left as wet cowlicks off defined muscle, Eskel smiled around one of Lambert’s dusky nipples and relished the hardness of the prick grinding against his stomach. “Uh,” Lambert grunted, a spurt of precome soaked through the trail of hair in the centre of Eskel’s stomach. “Get in me.”

“Patience…”

“If you say patience is a virtue, I’m gonna’ ride you raw and then bite it off,” Lambert growled his threat, but he was half-drunk on his lover already. While Eskel leaned out of their soft fort to grab the oil and slick his fingers, he recited the rest of the quote in his head. Patience strengthens the spirit, sweetens the temper, stifles anger, extinguishes envy, subdues pride, bridles the tongue, restrains the hand, and tramples upon temptation. One of Barmin’s many, many lessons taught during meditation. It was no surprise then that in the absence of patience, Lambert displayed none of the restraints that came with it. Well, except spirit. His spirit was stronger than any Eskel knew; a furious, unrelenting tempest of passion. It was loyal, and fierce, and unafraid to burst forth into the world.

Eskel loved him for it. He loved Lambert’s untamed ferocity, his temper, his sharp tongue… because just as he was ferocious in anger, he was so in love. To be loved by Lambert was to be thoroughly consumed by it; to have a lover devoted to the care of your heart, enthralled by your touch, desperate for your affection and keen to return it. After a year of emptiness on the Path—void of love, of smiles, of even the vaguest validation of your efforts—sliding beneath these blankets into Lambert’s arms was like feeling the warmth of the sun on your face after an eternal winter. Eskel had never said it out loud, but he needed this as much as Lambert did.

His forearm tucked beneath the thigh now over his waist and he reached to caress the supple skin of Lambert’s cleft with slick fingers. His mouth continued to work, teasing hard nipples with gentle flicks of the tongue interspersed with deeper kisses that made Lambert moan. “Eskel, c’mon, stretch me open. I need this, need you.”

Need you. He needed Eskel. The words burrowed into Eskel’s chest and stole his breath away. Because that was it, wasn’t it? Lambert didn’t just want him, he needed him. The desperate clutch of his body around Eskel’s fingers as they slipped inside was testament to that, Lambert’s heel digging into the small of his back with a needy gyration of the hips. Those cunning yellow eyes would be misty with lust; soft, full lips agape. Sweat beaded on their backs, in the grooves of their chest and abdomen, easing the grind of their bodies to a sultry glide that stoked their lust higher. Lambert’s cock continued to weep silky beads into the dark thatch of Eskel’s abdomen, so close despite his earlier bravado. He didn’t touch himself once he was up the mountain. His body was a means to express his love for Eskel, and he liked to save everything.

Eskel drew away only far enough to roll him over, guide his legs forward and bind him up in one strong arm. The thick head of his cock nudged against Lambert’s rim, the only warning he got, before it was sinking inside. Lambert’s body tensed with a strangled cry and Eskel paused to gentle him, teeth nibbling the arch of his ear—”doing so well, little wolf, relax, let me love you”—hand pushing his head back against his shoulder. Tight muscles eased and Eskel continued the slow roll of his hips. They always made love like this the first time. Later in the winter they’d fuck—hard, raw, fast—against walls, tables, any relatively stable surface available. Their bodies would be covered in nips and bruises, and Lambert would bounce on Eskel’s cock roaring his pleasure so every ghost in the keep could hear.

Not the first few days though. The first few days were to remind them that Witchers were capable of loving, of touching and kissing tenderly. Their hands were built for more than just wielding a silver sword; they were more than just harbingers of death. Lambert whimpered as his body struggled. “Fuck, old man. You have—nngh—some work done, or—?”

Eskel chuckled; a deep, salacious growl into the side of Lambert’s neck. “All me.”

“Nngh, oh fuck yes,” Lambert gasped as Eskel bottomed out and he felt his cock punch into his fucking soul. He clung to the thick forearm wrapping his chest and latched onto the one slanted over his hip as Eskel stroked his cock in time with his thrusts. His thumb circled over his weeping head, sweeping away the tears of precome to ease the slide of his hand. The musk of sweat, of the slow, sensual fuck, filled the cavern of the blankets. Both were overtaken with the heat of it, their noise untempered; Lambert all desperate whimpers and whines as Eskel dragged over his prostate in a continuous grind, while Eskel growled and moaned at each fluttering clench of Lambert’s body.

Bottoming out with each slow thrust, Eskel buried his face in Lambert’s hair, every panting breath drawing in huge hits of his familiar scent saturated with lust, pleasure and happiness. It gave a better high than even a hundred lines of Fisstech. He felt the warmth and shudder of Lambert’s climax in his palm, around his cock, and fucked him through it. His lover melted helplessly in his arms as Eskel continued to stroke his sensitive, twitching cock; hole looser after his orgasm, but still sucking greedily on Eskel when he withdrew. Eskel could go on like this forever, walking the delicate balance of bliss, preventing himself from folding to his climax, but Lambert tilted his head back and whispered softly into his jaw. “Love you, Eskel.”

Eskel’s hips stuttered and he held Lambert tightly, face buried against his beard, as his cock throbbed inside him. He stayed put even as he began to soften, unwilling to break the spell of intimacy enveloping them; their first moment of being intertwined after a whole year apart. When they eventually drew apart, it was only far enough to settle in a comfortable sprawl. They’d stay like that for a day or two, wrapped in each other and emerging only briefly to attend to nature’s other demands.

At the end of the end of the second day, Vesemir worked in the kitchen around them. He chopped vegetables, herbs and meat even as the blankets shifted and Lambert groaned; stepped over them to reach the fire and hang the stewpot, returning occasionally to stir it, even when the blankets were rippling quite violently and Eskel growling.

Halfway through the third day, Jaskier wandered down to collect some ale for Geralt and met two amber eyes as he stepped through the door. Lambert was on his back, his eyes lidded, with Eskel hanging over him. There was little left to the imagination, the height of the blankets betraying the legs wrapped around Eskel’s waist. Jaskier cleared his throat. “Can I… get you anything? Something to drink, or—?” He was cut off as Eskel shoved his hips forward and Lambert’s eyes rolled into the back of his head with a desperate moan.

“Tea would be nice,” Eskel replied, only slightly breathless, to his credit. So Jaskier tried to ignore the deliciously feral sounds being punched out of Lambert by Eskel’s criminally enormous cock as he brewed them some tea.

“Terribly sorry—just need to—step over here and heat the water, oh, don’t want to step on—mmhm.” Jaskier tiptoed gingerly over the blankets, almost tripping on Eskel’s hidden legs, and tried really hard to keep his eyes on the pot. It was impossible. Lambert looked wrecked, and Eskel’s shoulders were just breathtaking when they bunched and flexed. His breeches became far too restrictive.

Jaskier left his offering at their side as Eskel seemed distracted by his task of sucking bruises into the side of Lambert’s neck, his hips thrusting a little faster as his lover pleaded for more. The bardling fled straight into Geralt’s arms and immediately demanded they spend some time in bed before he combusted.

A day later, both the Witchers emerged from their blanket fort, tidied it away and everyone sat down for breakfast as if it was all entirely normal to spend a few days fucking in front of a kitchen fireplace. Lambert glanced at Jaskier from across the courtyard the following morning, rolled his eyes and growled. “I hate him already.”

Geralt smirked. Lambert didn’t really express his love well unless he was in Eskel’s arms, so ‘I hate him’, probably meant ‘he’ll grow on me’. That was a decent enough start.

#rawrkinwrites #smut #lambert #eskel #lambskel #winter at kaer morhen #blanket fort #lambert hates the cold #but he loves Eskel #Eskel is love #Eskel is life #Eskel is a gods-damned furnace

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leafs-lover · 4 years

Text

I wish you were here

A/N: This was requested. I thought about making this a fluff piece, but had a change of heart and re-wrote half of it. I just have a thing for Freddie, and not going to apologize for it ;)

Also I am really bad at coming up with titles

Summary: After a stressful couple of weeks apart Fred surprises you.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, NSFW

“Hey babe” you mumble into the phone. You look to your clock on your bedside table 4:17 is illuminated on the screen.

“Hey how’s it going?” he asks as you rub your eyes open.

“Good, just lying in bed” you say yawning.

“You sound tired” he says through the phone.

“Yeah most people are at 4am” you joke.

“Oh shoot. I’m sorry babe I didn’t even realize. Why did you answer?”

“We have been pretty busy, haven’t had much time to chat” you explain.

Fred returned to Denmark almost 8 weeks ago and you weren’t able to go with him due to the pandemic. You don’t have enough vacation days left; you would only have a couple days in Denmark.

You had only started dating in January, and when the NHL paused in March Fred tried to return to Denmark but the borders had closed prior to the pause. When Auston offered for Fred to quarantine in Arizona, Fred asked your thoughts on it.

If he stayed you would have to quarantine together otherwise you wouldn’t get to see him at all. That would have meant after only being together for 7 weeks you would temporarily move into his condo, and spend every second together for who knew how long. Neither of you really wanted to do that, it would be a lot of pressure on a new relationship so he opted to go to Arizona.

You hadn’t talked about labels, and didn’t know what to expect. While he was gone Fred would facetime with you once or twice a week, and you exchanged texts almost daily. He constantly complained about Auston’s terrible taste in TV shows, you complained about your roommate’s terrible attempt at baking.

You didn’t anticipate being in contact with Fred that much, but he always carved time to talk with you, he even sent you flowers a couple times and ordered you dinner from your favourite restaurant. Neither of you thought it would be almost 3 months before Fred would return to Canada.

But when he finally did, you were the first person he saw. You had just over 3 weeks together before he had to enter the bubble, and you spent much of that time together. It was so nice to have Fred back, cuddled up on the couch relaxing with him. When you finally saw him you melted into his touch, and your relationship felt like it had been catapulted forward instead of back even with the time apart.

When he went into the bubble, you didn’t expect to see him again until September, you wanted to see him but you hoped it would be three months, but it ended up being less than three weeks. He carried so much of the strain of that loss on himself, and you tried to tell him it was a team effort. The weight isn’t his alone, but the media and a lot of the fans had a different opinion. Everyone was calling for him to be traded, if the disappointing end to the season wasn’t enough that didn’t help.

He spent a couple weeks back in Toronto, but you could tell he was defeated and needed to get out. He needed to get away from the media, the rumours and spend time relaxing with his family. Fred tried to fight you on it, he wanted to stay and spend time with you. Obviously you did too, but you knew he needed this.

When he left the NHL had hoped on a December start to the season, meaning Fred would be coming back in October or early November. But as the date for the season got pushed so did his return date. You had some late nights at work, and with the time change it made it hard to talk all the time, so when you had the opportunity you took it. Leading you to this 4am phone call on a Saturday morning.

“Go back to bed skat, we can talk later” Fred says into the phone.

“No Freddie, we barely talked this week. Now that I have you on the phone I don’t want to hang up” you whine causing Fred to laugh.

“Okay, but if you get too tired Kære let me know. I don’t have any plans today so we can talk later.”

”I’m just going to make some coffee” you say getting out of bed and heading to your kitchen. ”I only planned on getting some groceries later so I can take a nap later if i want.” You start scooping the beans into the coffee maker, opting for a large pot due to the time.

”Wish I was there for your nap” Fred says to you.

”Mmm same. You are perfect for napping with” you respond.

”Oh yeah, why’s that?”

”Because you are perfect for cuddling with. I just fit perfectly in your arms, and you are like a pillow and a blanket in one.”

Fred laughs into the phone “you just use me for my body eh?”

“Well can you blame me?” you joke walking back to your bed with your mug in hand. “No I don’t actually, I mean it’s definitely nice –“

“Nice? My body is nice? That’s what you use to describe a haircut” he jokes.

“Obviously it’s much better than nice. I just meant it’s nice that you have that body, but I wouldn’t care if you didn’t. That’s not why I’m with you though.”

“Obviously not if you just think it’s nice” he mumbles jokingly. “How was your week?”

“It was so long, I had to stay late almost every night, and there was 3 nights I didn’t leave until after 9. My boss actually wanted me to work today but I had to say no. I felt like I was getting sick from lack of sleep, so it’s nice to have the weekend off.”

“You work so hard you deserve the time off” he says to you.

“Yeah, I have a couple vacation days left, maybe I’ll take a long weekend or something.”

“Yeah you should do that, don’t want to get run down working so much” Fred replies.

“But what would I do? I wouldn’t have enough days to fly to another province. And parts of Ontario are shutting down” you explain.

“Have a staycation, I’m sure a couple days doing nothing would be nice” he replies.

“Yeah I guess” you say.

“So how are my plants doing, kill them yet?”

“Nope, they are still alive, but I should get over there today to water them” you respond.

“When you say alive, do you mean alive and thriving or clinging to life?”

“Uhh, somewhere in the middle” you say causing Fred to laugh.

You continue to talk for another hour; you curl up in your bed wrapped tightly under your duvet. You can feel your eyes getting heavy, but you try to stay awake to talk to him. You are unsuccessful and end up dozing off.

When you return to work on Monday you talked to your boss who approved for you to take Friday and Monday off work, giving you a four day weekend. You are excited for your days off, but you have to get to end of day Thursday. Your week is filled with multiple zoom calls and long days, you are actually surprised your boss is okay with you taking time off.

When Wednesday comes you are completely drained. You had multiple meetings, angry clients and have to finish a project before you take off for the weekend. You were so busy you didn’t even notice you hadn’t had lunch until it was almost 3.

It’s almost 9pm when you walk through your door with some papers and dinner in hand when you hear your phone ring. Your apartment is dark and empty, your roommate away at her parents. You drop everything on your table, answering your phone as you head to your room to change.

“Hello?” you say not even looking at the caller-id, turning on your bedside lamp.

“Hi min kære, how are you?”

“Hey Freddie” you put him on speaker phone to change out of your work clothes. “I’m good, got home not too long ago.”

“Another late day eh?” he asks.

“Yeah I was trying to get my project done before my holidays tomorrow” you explain.

“Finish it?” he asks as you move to the kitchen to start eating dinner.

“Almost, should only take a couple hours tomorrow.” You look to your stove and see the time 9:09 illuminated on the screen. “Fred why are you calling so late; it’s like 3am there.”

“We haven’t talked since the weekend, and you haven’t sent many texts the past couple days” he says lightly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’ve been having late days and have basically gone straight to bed. I also didn’t want to call you so late, I know you had a golfing trip one day” you begin to explain.

“Oh I know babe, you don’t have to explain. I just thought you could use a pick me up” Fred says to you.

“Honestly I would love one. My week has been brutal and it’s only Wednesday. Can’t wait for tomorrow” you say sitting at your table. You didn’t realize how stressed you had been until you sat down and thought about the week. The angry clients and long hours have really taken a toll on you. Stopping to think about things brings a lump to your throat, as you feel your eyes begin to well up.

“(Y/N) you there?” you hear through the phone. You zoned out trying to not cry, you thought you could wait until you got off the phone with Fred to break down. You were wrong, and now you are trying to stifle your tears so Fred doesn’t hear you, but are unsuccessful.

“Skat, what’s wrong?” he asks hearing your quiet sobs through the phone.

“I don’t know” you cry into the phone. “I don’t think I realized how stressed I am, and tired. Just everything. It’s a lot.”

You move to your bed and crawl under your duvet, wrapping yourself tightly into a cocoon. Fred stays on the other end; he doesn’t say anything for a while, letting you cry in silence. After a couple minutes your eyes begin to get heavy, as your sobs have stopped.

“I wish you were here” you say lightly.

“Me too kære” he says. He stays on the line while you lay in bed, not hanging up until he hears your soft breaths through the phone.

“You should go” your boss says poking her head in your office at 3pm. “Start your weekend a couple hours earlier” she says smiling at you.

“You sure? I don’t want –“

“(Y/N) this place won’t fall apart without you, enjoy your time off.” With that your boss walks away, you shut down your computer and grab your jacket. You reach to grab your phone and see the blinking light. You unlock it to a text from Freddie.

F: Don’t forget to water my plants

Y/N: I watered them Monday…

F: That’s 3 days, you trying to kill them? ;)

You laugh at his message. Instead of responding you decide to go to his condo and send him a picture of you watering his plants. You jump in your car and head to his place. You park in the underground lot and make your way to the elevator. You walk down his hall and unlock his door when you hear music playing in the kitchen.

You don’t remember even listening to music when you were last here. Did someone break in? But who breaks in and plays music? You set your bag down and look around not noticing that anything missing or broken. You walk through the living room and hear clattering in the kitchen and panic sets in someone is in here.

If you weren’t so panicked you would have noticed the bag in the living room, and the pair of shoes by the front door. You hear footsteps in the kitchen and turn around to run and hide when you feel hands on your hips.

They spin you around and pull you in tight to their chest and wrap their arms around your back. You go to push yourself off the person when you smell the familiar cologne.

“You’re off early” he mumbles kissing your head.

“Fred?” you whisper in disbelief, looking up at the person in front of you.

Your eyes meet his golden brown eyes, and red hair. You bring your hands up and stroke his beard “what are you doing here?”

Instead of answering you he smiles and kisses you. Your hand tangles into his hair when he pulls back slightly “I missed you” he mumbles against your lips.

“I missed you too” you say smiling. Without warning you jump, Fred catches you and carries you into the kitchen setting you on the counter.

“Can’t believe you’re here” you say pulling him to you for a kiss.

“I know, I didn’t know when I was going to come back but after last night I knew I had to come see you. Hearing you cry broke my heart, but the worst part was not being able to do anything about it.” He brushes a piece of your hair behind you ear “I booked a flight right after you fell asleep.”

He leans in to place a soft kiss on your lips, you snake your hands into his hair, stroking his beard on the way. You pull him closer, locking him in for a passionate kiss. You don’t want to ever be apart from him again, and you groan slightly when Fred pulls away from you.

“I wasn’t expecting you for a little bit longer. I wanted to have dinner ready when you got here to try and salvage the life from my plants” Fred jokes looking over at his wilting plant on his table.

You laugh “yeah sorry about that. I was doing a good job at it, then work got crazy and I didn’t get over here as often as I’d like” you explain to him.

Fred kisses your neck “its fine, I didn’t expect them to be alive” he mumbles.

“Rude” you say turning your neck to allow him more access as he peppers kisses. Fred laughs before walking away from you. He walks over to the cupboard and pulls out two wine glasses and pours you each a glass.

He walks back and hands you a glass, he puts his other hand beside you on the counter.

“When did you get in?” you ask.

“About 2 hours ago” he replies kissing your cheek. “8 weeks is too long to be away from you.” You take a sip from your wine and turn your neck to allow him more access.

Fred runs a hand up your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “We’ve gone longer than that Fred” you whisper.

“Yeah because the border was closed” he whispers kissing your collarbone.

“Wait it’s still closed, how did you get in?” you ask pulling away to look at him.

“I have a Visa to play on the Leafs, it allowed me back in. Should have come back sooner” he mumbles kissing down your neck again. His hands lift your legs; he places his hands under them pulling you closer to him.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask running your hand up and down his biceps as Fred sucks on your neck.

“I’m a stupid man” he mumbles his hands stroking up and down your thighs, nipping on your neck. You moan lightly, placing your wine glass on the counter. Fred moves his hands to the back of your thigh and hoists you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you down the hall to his bedroom.

He kicks his bedroom door open and reaches to the wall to turn on the light. He gently places you on the bed, his mouth attaches to yours as he hovers over top of you. Your hands gently rake through his beard, as his tongue swirls in your mouth. His hand slides up your shirt gently, his thumb pressing circles onto the skin of your stomach.

Fred grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head; he sits up on his knees and removes your pants from you leaving you in your underwear.

“This is nice” Fred says taking in your matching red set, his finger lightly grazes the fabric.

“It’s new” you respond “thought of you when I bought it.”

Fred grins, stroking a finger over your clothed core. He quirks an eyebrow at you when he feels the wetness that has accumulated “it’s been a while” you say smiling at him.

“Let me fix that” he says pulling your underwear down your legs. He lies on his stomach, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He stares into your glistening pussy for a minute; his beard rubs against your thighs his breath makes you quiver.

He finally attaches his tongue to you, licking up your juices. You moan at the contact, his tongue is still dancing outside your folds. He groans at the taste of you, before he pushes his tongue inside you. You throw your head back into the pillow as his tongue slips inside your walls.

He brings his hand up to your clit and begins to press circles into it, as his tongue slowly licks the inside of your walls. Your hands slide down to his shoulder and you squeeze them firmly as he keeps fucking his tongue in and out of you.

“Freddie” you moan as his tongue continues to press deep inside you.

You grip his shoulder and attempt to pull him up to you. You feel Fred chuckle against you, but he doesn’t stop, pressing his thumb harder into your clit.

“Babe” you groan pulling harder on his shirt “I need you.”

Fred pulls back slightly staring at you with eyes dark from lust “you have me smuk” he chuckles. He attaches his lips to your clit and sucks on it, a fuck falls from your lips. Your legs begin to squirm slightly at the feeling.

“Fred…Fred…Fuck…I” you can’t form a coherent thought as he slips two fingers inside you, sucking on your sensitive bud.

His fingers begin to pump in and out of you as he pulls his mouth from you and begins sucking on your hip. He alternates between sucking and biting on your hip. Your hip arches off the bed as he continues to pump his fingers inside you.

“This what you want babe” he asks bringing his other hand to your bra, massaging your breast.

You bring a hand down to his wrist and clamp it. He stops moving his wrist and looks into your eyes.

“I need you Fred, I can’t wait” you say panting. Fred grins and slips his fingers out of you, and quickly pulls his shirt over his head. You reach up and grip his neck pulling him down to you. You lock lips with him, your hand slides up and down his firm bicep. Fred slides a hand under your back and unclasps your bra, freeing your breasts.

His firm shirtless body is pressed against you; you can feel his erection straining through the fabric of his clothes. You palm over his pants lightly before sliding your hand around to his back. His mouth leaves you and slides down to your breast and begins sucking on it, he brings a hand up and starts rolling your other nipple through his fingers, pinching it slightly. Your hands slide down his back and reach his sweat pants; you begin to push them down his large thighs.

Fred pulls away and pushes his pants and boxers down his legs and onto the floor. He falls on top of you and returns his mouth to yours; you roll and push him onto his back. You straddle him and begin grinding against his hard cock, desperate to have him inside you.

You hear Fred mumble in Danish as you continue to rock your hips against him. You fall forward kissing Fred, his hand tangles into your hair locking you in a passionate kiss. You reach over to the side table and pull a condom out.

You pull back and tear the foil, sliding it onto his hard member. You give him a few strokes before you rise up and line him up with your entrance. Fred brings his hands to your hips; you slowly start to drop down on him.

“Fuck” you mumble at the feeling of Fred inside of you, your hand goes onto his abs and you brace yourself. Fred is longer than any man you have been with, you had started to get used to his size but then he left to go to Denmark. You know Fred will hit areas nobody has ever hit before, but you just need to adjust.

“You okay smuk?” Fred asks looking up at you.

You keep dropping yourself down on him “yeah” you whine “just been a bit.”

He chuckles pulling your head down to his. You moan at the change of angle before Fred kisses you lightly.

“Don’t worry, take your time. I’m going to get you used to it soon” he smirks kissing you.

You haven’t taken all of him but you rise up and drop down on him. You moan into the kiss, Fred’s hand holding you to him, his other hand rests on your hip. You pull away from the kiss, Fred sucks on your bottom lip as you rise up and drop back down. Fred bottoms out in you, your ass hits against his thighs as you thrust on him.

“Ahh” you moan feeling him hit the deep spot inside you. Fred is still under you allowing you time to set the pace and get comfortable with him. You continue slowly thrusting on him, pushing yourself up. Your hand returns to his abs as you increase the pace.

Fred snaps his hips and pushes in you, as you drop onto him. His hands are on your hip, gripping you tightly as he helps guide you, keeping the slow pace. Your head falls back as you thrust on him; Fred slowly increases the pace under you.

You push into his stomach as your pace increases, rocking your hips against him. You bounce on top of Fred, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. He brings a hand up to your breast, cupping it as you ride him. He rolls your nipple through his fingers, as your nails dig into his firm stomach muscles. Your hand slides down his treasure line, pressing hard into his groin as you feel your high approaching.

“You gonna cum baby?” Fred asks noticing you are chasing your high. He squeezes your breast hard, pinching your nipple in the process. You hum in response unable to form words. Fred releases your breast and slides his hand down to your clit to press circles into it.

“Yeah, cum on me baby. I want to feel you, feel you’re cum drip down me” he says pressing harder into your sensitive bud. His hips snap and the pace is fast, you are a mess on top of him. Sweat is dripping down Fred’s stomach; you can feel it under your hand.

“Fuck Fred” you scream out, your orgasm is close. With every thrust Fred his your g-spot, your skin flapping has filled the room, followed by occasional curse words. You notice Fred becoming erratic under you as you continue bouncing on him.

Your orgasm crashes over you, the most intense one you have had in a while. You clench around him, your walls tighten, and you feel it in your stomach. Your eyes roll back into your head as Fred continues to thrust inside of you. Your juices dripping down his cock.

He strains to keep going, allowing you to finish your orgasm. As you finally come around you feel Fred still under you. You collapse onto his chest, his arms wrap around you. You lie on him, both your breaths slowly return to normal.

A couple minutes later Fred rolls to be on top of you, he kisses you briefly before heading to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He pulls on his boxers and throws a t-shirt to you. You smile and pull it over your head; Fred climbs into bed and pulls you into his arms.

“I was going to make you dinner, but I think I’m too tired now” Fred jokes, stroking up and down your arm. “You okay with ordering in?”

You look up and into his golden brown eyes “sounds perfect” you respond. Fred leans down and kisses you, wrapping you tightly into his arms.

“So you should spend your long weekend here with me” Fred mumbles against your lips.

You smile and stroke his beard “I don’t plan on leaving; I want to spend as much time with you as possible. When are you heading back to Denmark?” you ask lightly, not really wanting to know the answer.

“I’m not” Fred replies. You look directly into his eyes “not unless you come with me” he says lightly kissing you again.

#Freddie Andersen #fred andersen #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen smut #Fred Andersen Fic #toronto maple leafs #Frederik Andersen #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs smut #nhl fic #nhl snut #carolina hurricanes

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magicalcrwn · 4 years

Text

lost, then found // ksj

pairing: Seokjin x Reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: non-idol, roommates au, requited feelings, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

warning(s): going in deep here so do not take these lightly, talks of loneliness, existential crisis, mental health issues, implied suicidal thoughts, mostly unedited

summary: “When it comes, the two hands overlap / Then the whole world holds its breath for a moment / Zero o’clock“

Life is hard, sometimes you just gotta take a step back and breathe.

a/n: been feeling horrible this year, so i poured all of my thoughts into this fic to just lighten the load i guess. this could also be considered as a late jin day gift, he’s been my ult and my main emotional support kpop boy for two years now and abyss even got me finishing up this fic. so in a way, it’s more of a vent fic but also a thank you for keeping a smile on my face. with that out of the way, i hope you’re all taking care of yourselves and maybe find some comfort in this. who knows? links: txt m.l || bts m.l

Sleep has always been an escape for you, especially from reality.

Everybody has those days, feeling lost and depressed no matter what happened -- could be out of nowhere, could be from exhaustion -- but today? Today is just too much, and you don’t know why. You feel heavy, drained both emotionally and physically, and want only to sleep the day or maybe the rest of the year or more away. Honestly, that doesn’t sound too bad -- an eternal sleep. In your dreams, you can do anything without a worry. An eternal dream would be heavenly, doing whatever you want with no pressure and stress from the world, doing whatever at your own pace instead of being pressured to keep up with the rapidly moving public.

So that’s what you do, or that’s what you try to do. It’s nearing sundown and you stay curled up under your bed on your phone while scrolling through social media, you only get up to get food and water and to use the bathroom. Anything else? That’s it. You look through every single platform you’re on underneath the blanket while cuddling RJ stolen from Seokjin’s bed.

Speaking of Seokjin…

You’ve been living with him as roommates for the past three years, and you have known him since high school when you were a freshman and him a sophomore. Whenever you two hang out together, some could easily mistake you as siblings, sometimes as lovers. You, however, don’t consider him a lover -- he’s just your best friend who agreed to live in this apartment together. Yep, just friends. Nothing more. Just friends. You don’t pay attention to his cute stupid grin whenever he makes a cheesy dad joke, nor his squishy cheeks that puffs up whenever he smiles. You also don’t pay attention to how he’s humming little melodies you’ve memorized overtime while he cooks, and you don’t pay attention to how he gets all giggly and happy whenever he gets excited. Though you do acknowledge how safe you feel around him, how comfortable it is to be around him.

He’s out today, working late as a recently hired producer and artist for Namjoon’s also recently opened company, MONO Entertainment, leaving your lonesome self the entire day. Speaking of loneliness, it feels more suffocating than usual. Music quietly plays through your phone’s speaker, you pull the sheets closer to your body as you try to dig deeper into the warmth of your safety. This duvet can’t keep you safe and warm, you’re well aware of that, you’ll have to eventually leave and rejoin the overwhelming society you know as reality.

Growing up, you always believed reality is perfect, a place where it has so many possibilities for you to strive for a better future -- or better yet, a better self. Oh, has the world proved you wrong.

The security alarm echoes throughout the apartment, accompanied by the sound of the door unlocking and opening. He's already home? Nevertheless, you stay in your bed, sliding even deeper into the duvet. Your name is called from the entrance, but you shut your eyes as you attempt to sneak in a nap. Today's pretty much not a social day, you just want to keep the talking to a minimum. Especially with your roommate. The door shuts, keys jingling in the distance followed by shoes thumping.

Soft padded footsteps nears your doorway, a crack between the frame and the door peeking into and out of your somewhat messy room. Seokjin, still wearing his fuzzy orange hoodie, gently pushes the door as he tries not to disturb you. Upon spotting the you-sized lump protruding from the blanket, he sighs with a small smile on his face. He walks to the nearest side of your bed, closest to the door, which surprisingly you left space for your full sized bed.

Once more, he calls your name, but you still don't respond. At least verbally. You just shuffle in place and push yourself even more deeper into the duvet. A light chuckle grabs onto your ears. Your friend sits on said empty spot of your bed and gently rests a hand on the lump, landing on your left arm.

"Hey bub," he says while gently rubbing your arm in small strokes. Seokjin moves his hands towards the edge of the covers to pull it down, but you whine as you feel the sudden shift in air once he moves it down at least an inch. A frown dons his face, "C'mon, you can't breathe if you stay down there."

You shake your head. "Come back in 2-3 business days," you mumble.

Surprised by your sudden remark, he lets out an airy laugh a moment sooner. You feel shifting behind you, the heavy duvet being moved around. A warm presence slides into your cocoon, inching closer to you. If you're not getting out, might as well get in.

"Jin," you whine pathetically, "get out."

"Aw, c'mon, can't I at least get a hug?"

You blink your eyes, practically rolling them at the end. He's pouting, you know he is. In fact, if you turn around right now, you'd see his pouty lips especially in the dark. With a straight face, you slowly flop over to your right to face exactly what you expected. A pouty Seokjin with -- oh no -- how dare he use those puppy eyes against you out of all people! Without even realizing it, you hold your breath as you two stare each other for a long, long time. At each passing second, you feel the effects of the forbidden Seokjinnie Pout™ dealing blows at your already rapid beating heart. Your face grows redder and redder as you continue staring directly at his face.

When your ears starts to burn enough, you release your breath and surrender, "Fine, you can hug." His eyes brightens at your words, his cheeks rounding up as a smile pushes through the pout. Has he always been this close before? Just inches away from your faces touching. You blink thrice then stammer, "Just... just once."

An arm suddenly reaches for your curled up body, Seokjin pushes himself towards you with his other arm on the bed. His warmth right against yours as he snakes his limbs around you, pulling you into his embrace. Out of habit, your arms wrap around his torso as you lean further into him and squishing RJ in between.

A hand reaches for your head, gently stroking it. His chest rumbles against your forehead while he asks, "Bad day?" Of course he'd notice, so you nod your head. He hums, still continuing his petting, "Thought so. Did you get up at all?"

"Only to go to the bathroom and eat," you reply back, subconsciously nuzzling into his fuzzy clad chest which steadily moves up and down with his breathing.

"Haven't gone out at all, hm?" This time you shake your head. He lets out a huff, patting your head twice before looking down at you, "What's wrong? You can tell me."

Your lips puckers into a pout, you smush your face closer into him as you mumble, "'s just -- I dunno -- just unmotivated I guess. Like there's nothin' I can do even though I know I can do it but -- yeah. That and just... lonely."

"Lonely? I'm right here, y'know," he lightly jokes as an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I know but like, the different type of lonely. Y'know, the type of lonely where you feel like you're just awkwardly standing in place of somewhere where you clearly don't belong. The type where you feel like you've been left out from everything that's happening no matter how fast or slow time goes by, even getting to the point where you feel like you’re lost." You swallow shortly afterwards, continuing with another mumble. Your arms tighten, "The type where you don't feel like you're alive."

He quietly stares at you, watching you breathe in his arms. Suddenly, you felt yourself being pulled up and out of the covers, being placed on the pillows while still in his embrace. You lift your head and look at him with an exhausted yet confused gaze. Both of you stare right into each others' eyes for a while, the slightly audible music still playing on the other side of yourself on the bed. "How about now? Do you feel alive?"

His sudden question caught you off guard, not even letting you respond with a suitable answer. Seeing your bewildered eyes, he repositions yourselves on the bed -- lying on his back and you resting your cheek on his chest, allowing you hear the faint thumps of his heartbeat. Right when you open your mouth, he immediately cuts you off, "What am I saying, it's much more easier said than done. Alive... It's a strange concept if you think about it. It all depends on how you live it, but how we live it is always the big question."

Leaning his head back onto the pillow, gazing up onto the ceiling, he subconsciously continues stroking his head as he too continues his train, "Sometimes I feel like I'm alive, finally getting a head start on my music career thanks to Namjoon, but sometimes? Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know if I enjoy what I'm doing, I don't know if I am doing what I'm capable of doing in this life. I don't know if I'm living a life that I want to live, a life where I feel alive." He slightly tips his head towards your side, lowering just a bit to look back at you. "Even though I'm familiar with the loneliness, I don't mind it. Sure it sucks, but it helps you even when you don't think it would. Gives you time to reflect, gives you time to think, and most importantly, it gives you time to rest."

Turning towards the window, he faces the sky at the blue hour after the sun has set. The faint sound of vehicles moving throughout the streets muffles against the wall and the window. "Yeah, the world's fast, a lot of us are moving fast -- moving onwards without looking back. Whenever I look at those people, I always think to myself, 'Wow, these guys... I can't keep up.' I still think of it to this day. Whatever they did in their day, no matter how big or small, they're always moving at their own pace to keep up with the world. I don't doubt it though, feeling the same loss and loneliness we feel every now and then. It catches us off guard, especially to them at least once in their lives. Just like today." Once more, his gaze falls back onto you. You , who stares with wide eyes as you listen to his philosophy.

His lips curls up into a small smile, warm enough to comfort you. "No matter how many times you feel this way -- everyday or every other day -- you're still you. The loneliness isn't always there to torment you, it's there to guide you, help you. Don't ever try to force it out, like misery, it loves company. Company that it can be useful to. No matter where or what you're doing in the world, you will seek that life again. The life you believe that you will fulfill to the end, the life that will make you feel alive even just by a smidge."

Loneliness. You never thought of it that way, honestly. You'd always think of it as an obstacle, something annoyingly in your way. Something which seems to be impossible to overcome. Shuffling up, moving into a more comfortable position, you rest your ear onto his chest. Hearing Seokjin’s voice say your name, you look up again.

In just a split second, he places a light feathery kiss on your forehead, immediately burning your ears red. "Take a break," he murmurs against your skin, "I mean it."

Underneath your head, you feel him shuffle as he starts to make his way out of the bed. "Seokjin," you instantly call. He pauses, a leg sticking out of the duvet and bare foot planted on the floor, then he looks back. Without even realizing, you ask him, "Can you stay here with me? Please?"

Blinking once then twice, his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and slowly nod. Zipping off the hoodie, letting it fall onto the floor, he crawls back into bed and repositions himself in the same spot he was in.

You reach for your phone, turning off the music then placing back behind you in its original spot. Climbing up to him, you readjust yourself into your position from earlier, curling up against his warm body. Shutting your eyes, you whisper, "Thank you."

You didn't elaborate nor was there a need to. Seokjin watches you breathe, his gaze soft at the sight. Wrapping his arms back around you, he places another kiss on your head, "You're welcome. Have a nice sleep, love."

Love? Your heart stutters at the word, a grin threatening to burst out.

Tomorrow will be another day, the day where you'll put yourself back on track and pick up where you left off. While the world doesn't wait for no one, the only one waiting for you is yourself and maybe a specific somebody keeping you close to his heart.

a/n: it’s normal to feel lonely, even if you see it as a threat. remember that it will teach you to take care of yourself better. first things first, take a step back and just breathe.

#bts #bts imagine #bts oneshot #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts angst #kim seokjin #jin #seokjin #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #jin fluff #jin angst #seokjin oneshot #jin oneshot

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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years

Text

“triad”

Chapter 11: the waning moon

Summary: Lisa feels confident enough to try learning more about the Devils again. Bad things happen in this chapter- just a warning :)))

Ao3 link

Silence.

Nothingness.

Emptiness.

But this time, it’s not so bad. It’s not a void that I’m sinking down into. It’s a cocoon, wrapped firmly around my body like a warm hug. It’s safe.

“And… open.”

I open my eyes, meeting Adeline’s golden gaze as soon as I do. We stare at each other blankly for a moment before her plump lips break into a little grin. “That felt right, didn’t it?”

I nod quickly, excitement filling me. “Yeah… how long was that?”

“Let’s see…” Adeline scrambles to her feet and walks over to the clock. “One fifty three… so, 15 minutes!” She turns back around to look down at me, still sitting cross legged on my bedroom bloor. “That’s the longest yet… you really kept your mind blank that whole time?”

“Totally blank!” With a little difficulty, I rise to my feet. “Now that I can meditate for 15 minutes, that should be more than enough time for me to enter the Septad again.” The thought of attempting that again is still making me a little apprehensive, but not nearly as much as it did before. After confronting the things I hate most about myself, and a superficial image of Julius, I managed to overcome whatever it was that was holding me back. Maybe this is just a momentary high, but I need to take advantage of it while it lasts. “Adeline… thanks for all your help.”

Adeline turns to look at me, her eyes widening as I take her hand. I offer her a gentle smile. “I couldn’t do this without you, you know.”

She stares at me a moment longer, the slightly-shocked expression still on her face. “Oh… thank you.” Finally, she gives my hand a squeeze, holding on for a moment longer than she could have. “That means a lot… if I can do anything to help you, and- er, the Kingdom, I will!”

I can’t help but giggle a little at her awkwardness as she removes her hand. “You don’t have to be so proper about it, Adeline.” I give her a nudge before walking over to the table. “I want to become friends with you, you know…”

“Huh? Friends?” Adeline’s words follow me, causing my smile to widen.

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you.”

I haven’t known her long, but I can’t deny that I want her by my side all the time… she’s a comfort, a source of warmth that I desperately need. No matter what the source of these feelings are, I want to kindle that flame… I’ll let it burn away my grief and guilt.

“Here, I got some wine! You mentioned you liked Rose, right?” I quickly snatch the bottle off the table and hold it up for her to see. I have to suppress a cheeky grin. Hehe! I’m so smart, setting this all up for us~ I cried in front of her way too many times, I need to show her that I’m more emotionally stable than she thinks!

“OH! You remembered!” Adeline’s eyes sparkle at the sight of the bottle, but then, to my shock, narrow with skepticism.

“But… you won’t be drinking with me, will you?”

I blink a couple times, then realize that Adeline must be more observant than she lets on. “Oh… you noticed?”

Adeline nods quickly, her playful nature coming back. “Of course I noticed! You never have any alcohol at dinner, or when you have guests, or when you’re working. That’s so responsible of you! I really admire your willpower.”

“Oh… yeah. Thank you, I try my best…”

I gulp nervously, knowing full well that the reason for my sobriety isn’t because I’m responsible or anything… if I wasn’t pregnant, I know I would have drowned in whiskey by now. I guess it wouldn’t be much fun if she was the only one drinking- but it’s not like I have a choice- I get a momentary itch to tell her about the baby, but for some reason I can’t do it. Not now, at least.

“Well, I appreciate the gift! But I need to let you sleep! It’s nearly two in the morning!” Adeline is suddenly pushing me towards my bed with an admonishing tone. “Come on, you’re already wearing pajamas.”

“Whoa- wait-” I blush a little but don’t struggle. “Adeline, you know I don’t need to sleep as much as-”

“Yeah, yeah, all that Simulcian magic stuff-” Adeline cuts me off, very business-like. “Like I said, it’s my job to help the Kingdom, and the King! So go to bed!” She steps back and gives me a tired look as I sheepishly pull the covers over myself. My face is basically burning right now. Part of me wishes she would leave, but the other part…

… wishes she would stay.

“Honestly… you get up so early, too.” She shakes her head, but can’t help but smile smugly to herself as she looks down at me. What’s going on in her head?! Does she pity me? Or does she think I’m cute… “What are you even doing? I can never find you around the castle.”

“Oh, in the mornings?” My face brightens up a bit. “I’m training!”

“Training? But, aren’t you already the most powerful mage?” Adeline asks, curiosity peaked.

“Well, maybe, but that doesn’t mean I can defeat a devil. Look-” I sit up and reach over to my bedside table, picking up a heavy book. Adeline cranes her neck to see the cover. “That’s about the Heart Kingdom?”

“Yeah.” I start flipping through the pages, dust falling out and onto my bedspread. “The mages in the Heart Kingdom draw mana from nature… they have quite a few techniques for doing so, and it can greatly amplify mana. For instance, my fire magic-” I stop on a page, covered with ancient-looking writing, and point at an illustration of a hand with fire magic bursting out of it. The fire itself is surrounded by a ring of those runes. “You can apply mana writing to your magic… draw your mana from the earth… and turn Fire magic into True Fire Magic.” I glance up at Adeline to gauge her reaction. She’s intrigued.

“Amazing… so…” She tears her gaze from the page. “Have you mastered it yet?”

“Mastered? No, not quite… but…” I close the book and brush the dust off my lap. “I want to master it… soon, we’ll be sending our own Knights to learn the natural mana method. But before that, I want to show them how powerful it truly can be.”

I run my fingers over the ancient bindings.

“And then… I want to try and draw out even more power.”

That power… I want it.

True Time Magic.

With that… I wonder what I could be capable of.

“Anyway, goodnight Adeline.” I turn to smile up at her one last time. “I promise I’ll sleep in tomorrow for once… thank you for all your help.”

Adeline straightens up, her eyes lingering on my face before she turns away to leave.

“Goodnight! And it was my pleasure.”

The door swings shut, and darkness falls. I’m alone at last.

… I’ve cleared my mind. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to the village, and find the truth of the SImulcian’s history with the Devils!

Last time, I almost accomplished what I wanted, but I was shown something else, something unrelated, as far as I could tell. My grandparents, the last Dyad before me and Julius, standing there on the beach together in the sunset.

Our fate.

I wonder…

I close my eyes, drifting off as I curl up around Julius’s robe.

… if they were trying to tell me something.

-------------------------------------------

I keep my promise to Adeline, letting myself sleep in until around eight in the morning. My stomach is what eventually wakes me, a familiar pang of strong nausea attacking me again and again. “Ughh… settle down!” I groan, rolling over and balling up the robe/blanket in one of my fists. “You can’t be that big yet… So why are you so painful?!”

The baby, of course, can’t answer, not yet at least. Maybe in a couple years I can demand an explanation, but that’s miles down the road as far as I’m concerned. But for now, I have to deal with it.

Eventually, I drag myself out of bed and to the bathroom. Fortunately it seems like I won’t have to throw up, so I decide to treat myself to a nice bath. The hot water sends a pleasant chill down my back, and I sink down into the bubbles up to my neck. Ahh… that’s more like it! I smile and close my eyes, feeling more relaxed than I had the entire night. I’m itching to get up and get moving, to go out into the woods and get some training in before my first meetings, but it’s far too late for that. Marx is awake by now, and if I disappear, I’ll be getting calls every two seconds.

It’s a shame, because I just found the perfect place to train. I stumbled upon a ravine, completely by accident, in the middle of the woods one morning. It was so deep, I couldn’t even see the bottom. But, I could feel mana radiating out of it in waves, beautiful, natural mana: just what I needed. So… I jumped in.

I never did find the bottom, but I found a nice ledge to sit on while I fired off all manner of spells. Just being down there, bathing in it all… it reminded me of my youthful days spent in the woods, sitting by the stream, and honing what little magic I had.

One day… I’ll reach the bottom of that ravine. But for now, it serves a purpose. My handle on True Flame magic is developing quickly. I smile a little as I think about it before lifting my hand up out of the water. Within a moment, blue flame erupts from my fingers, condensing before twisting into letters. Ancient runes: Mana words. The basis of the Heart Kingdom’s mana method, and the key to unlocking the potential within my magic.

True Time Magic…

Suddenly, my flame flickers out. I don’t even have a chance to be surprised before it hits me.

Pain.

It’s like a light; blinding, searing its way into the left side of my head. All my other senses dull, drowned out by the sheer potency of this feeling.

Pain.

Am I screaming? I have no idea. I can’t hear. I can’t feel.

Oh… this…

The light gets brighter and brighter. Fire burns into my mind, shards from a shattered ego piercing every inch of my psyche.

This is…

And suddenly, it’s over.

My whole body goes limp, having convulsed and tightened up more than I realized during the episode. With a shallow gasp, I fall backwards, and hit my head hard on the porcelain edge of the tub.

By the time I wake up, the water is cold, and someone is knocking on my door.

“Are you in there?!

Every cell in my body protests as I sit up again, faster than I should have, but it’s not like I have a choice. What the hell was that?! I think, shakily standing up, using the wall as a support. “I-I’m in here! I’ll be right out!”

With a little difficulty, I pull my bathrobe on, glancing at myself in the mirror before doing a double take. “Oh no… not again…”

There’s dried blood coming out of my nose, dripping down my chin.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Hold on one second!”

I wet a towel and wipe away the blood, then throw it into the sink before running to my bedroom door. Whatever just happened, I don’t have time to worry about it. Even so, pain like that… the last time I felt it, was during the first few Dyads with Julius. Back when I was weak, and almost died from the force of his mana. But, Julius is dead, the only Dyad that exists is between me and a tiny shard of his soul.

Is it something pregnancy related? Or…

It doesn’t matter. I have to get through today, then I’ll go see Owen.

“Thank god- what are you even doing in there?” Marx scowls up at me as I open the door. “I’ve been knocking and knocking- everyone’s worried about you, you know!”

“Oh? Well, I’m coming out now. Uh-” I glance over and see my cape laying on the ground, and quickly scoop it up. “There!” I throw it over my bathrobe and give Marx a grin that he does not reciprocate. “How do I look.”

Marx’s scowl only deepens as he rolls his eyes. “Put on something better! You don’t look like the Wizard King in… that.”

“Actually!” I give him a smirk. “I can’t not look like the Wizard King, technically…”

My voice trails off, leaving an awkward silence between the two of us. But right as I think the joke has fizzled out, Marx’s scowl melts into a smile, and a little chuckle manages to leave his throat. “I suppose you’re right… well, in any case, you might get a bit cold.”

“Hehe, I knew you were just pretending to be mad.” I slip on some shoes and follow him out, already forgetting about the still-full tub in my bathroom, clouds of blood still dissolving away into the way. “I promise I’ll be done with my work early today, and then I’ll change. After all, I want to go back out to the village today.”

“The village?” Marx’s eyes widen a little as we walk. “You think you’re ready?”

“More than ready!” I grin, but stop short when I realize that Marx has fallen behind. He stares at me with a weird look in his eyes, but his lips still hold a curious smile. “What?”

He doesn’t speak for a moment, then slowly shakes his head.

“I don’t know… it just… you seem happy.”

… happy?

Marx lets out a sigh, almost relieved as I don’t immediately try to dispute his observation. “I’m happy for you…” His smile becomes a bit more sly as he moves again, passing me. “Whatever the source of that happiness might be…”

I turn and follow him with my eyes, before I realize what he’s implying.

“OH! Uh- Marx!”

He raises an eyebrow as I run up next to him, almost frantic. “Me and Adeline- er, there’s nothing going on between us, I swear!” I let out a nervous laugh, but start to panic when I feel heat rushing to my cheeks. Oh god- “I mean, we barely know each other, and-” I try not to remember how I tried (and failed) to get her to stay longer last night. “Well- um… er…”

Marx pulls me from my frenzy as he lets out a giggle. A sound so foreign, coming from him, that keeps me from panicking further. “I wasn’t trying to imply anything… in any case, I’m happy for you, alright?” His hand comes up and squeezes my shoulder, his smile becoming genuine. “That’s all I want.”

The heat fades, and I find myself smiling back. “Thank you, Marx…”

I reach up and squeeze the hand on my shoulder.

I don’t know how to say it… but I can never replace you. Marx… my dearest friend.

If being happy makes his pain even a little less… then I will try my best to stay that way.

------------------------------

“Look who’s back! Look who’s back!”

The sun is dipping low by the time the three of us land back at the Simulcian village, and a crowd greets us at the outskirts just like our last visit. “Hey everyone!” I smile and wave still feeling both excited and pumped for the experiment to come. “I hope I’m not dropping in at an inconvenient time?”

“Not at all!” five of them chorus in unison. “We knew you’d be back soon… would you like to come inside and meet your septad again?”

I exchange a glance with Marx, who still looks a bit nervous. Then, I turn to Adeline, who gives me a nod, her eyes determined. That determination fills me as well.

“Absolutely.”

The crowd ushers us through the street and to the “town hall,” where our last synchronization occurred. On the way, we pass the giant statue of Simulcia, and I see that they’ve painted more of her wings. I smile a little at the sight, the whitish-blue reminiscent of the mana I produce. But at the same time…

The orange sunset streaks across the wood. But her eyes remain as black and empty as ever. She’s just a statue, yet...

There’s something… deeply ominous about them.

The door closes behind me, and once again I’m standing in front of a group of six women: the sextad. It’s as if they knew I was coming! I think to myself, gulping nervously once before stepping towards them with a smile on my face. “Uh, good evening, ladies. I hope this goes better than last time…”

Despite the fact that the prior fiasco is still very much fresh in our memories, they all return my smile and bow a little. “Of course it will! You’ve been practicing, right?”

“Yep!” I grin, coming to a stop as they turn to form a circle, this time with me at the apex. Their marks are glowing slightly on different parts of their body: right hand, left hand, chest, stomach, right knee, left knee… and mine is on my face. I guess, when the seven of us come together, we create a replica of Simulcia… and that’s how we can dive down into their memories. Thinking about the mechanisms behind this makes my head spin, so I stop.

“Ready?”

“Ready!”

I pull out my Grimoire, letting it flip open to the correct page. The paper makes a soft fwip with every page, and I take that last moment to lock eyes with Adeline once more. She offers me another confident smile, but I can’t ignore the worry that’s now seeped onto her face as well.

Is this going to work?

There’s no way she can hear me, but my thoughts reach her.

Of course. I believe in you.

“Alright… here we go.”

I turn back to the others, and close my eyes.

“Dyad Magic: Septad Creation.”

Mana builds up. It’s moving, fast, an endless cycle between our minds, bodies, and souls.

Please… work.

Please-

I cease to exist, and the seven of us become one. Memories fly by, faster and faster, a stream of consciousness long forgotten and left broken in the dark. My own memories are mixed in, memories of light and love, but this time, I don’t let myself remember.

Silence.

Nothingness.

Emptiness.

I open my eyes, and the septad is mine. Once again, I stand in the dark void, the only sounds being that of seven hearts pumping at once.

I did it… everything is stable.

Now…

Show me the devi-

Before I can even finish my sentence, something looms out of the darkness. It’s tint is even deeper than the void, something so unearthly and terrifying, something that shouldn’t exist.

There’s giggling around me. I turn around, and realize that more of these creatures, of varying sizes and shapes, have surrounded me, all jumping around in place, laughing and shooting toothy grins at me. They’re terrible, and every hair on my body starts to stand up. The ground trembles under my feet with fear.

Stay calm… this is a memory. Not reality.

There’s a dull pain in the left side of my face. I ignore it.

“You… fool.”

The deep voice catches my attention. I whirl around to see a creature looming above the rest, their red eyes narrowed in their face. Four horns curl and curve up out of it’s hair, imposing and evil.

...who are you?!

“Do you really think… this is worth it?”

When his lips move, I can see the sharp teeth lining his gums. The teeth of an apex predator.

“You can’t possibly… defeat us all.”

He raises his hand, and the world crashes down on me.

“What could possibly be worth it?”

Crushing weight hits me, but before I can feel any pain, it’s over. I blink a few times as a bright light envelops me, and I realize that I’m once again standing on the beach in Raque. Shit! Not again! Stop bringing me to this recent time-

However, one look up the shore, and I see that this is not the same scene I saw before. It’s noon, probably, the sun high in the sky. There’s no buildings, the resort is nowhere to be found. Huh… this is the same beach, but a different time? Then, why-

I look down, and realize that I’m not alone.

A man is standing there. His clothes are simple, and he looks like he hasn’t shaved for a week. His hair is dirty, salt clinging to each strand pulled back into his ponytail. He’s shorter than me, significantly, and a fishing pole lays on the ground at his feet, where he just dropped it.

He’s… frozen. His feet are glued to the ground, but his hands shake. He looks almost poised to escape, but he can’t bring himself to.

But…

His eyes are wide, but they hold no fear. The look within them is deeply familiar.

Excitement… boyish excitement.

He’s smiling.

Why…

… why would you look at something like me… with a smile?

And why… Why do I already know who he is?

Without thinking about it, I reach out. And, like a mirror, he reaches out (Well, up ) as well.

Why does this feel like the most important moment of my life?

He takes my hand in his, and suddenly, the beach is gone. Now, I’m looking up at him. The air is chilled with the water from the stream, and the wind blows through the bank covered with white cornflowers.

He smiles.

But before he pulls me to my feet, I let go. I let out a strangled cry and turn to run away. Memories are pouring in after the still of that quiet moment- memories of him, his face, his touch, his voice, everything, over and over and over-

He’s gone, he’s gone, HE’S GONE-

The world is shaking again, screams and cries echoing through my head. The pain gets worse, something bisecting my very soul.

Stop it, stop it, STOP-

“Breathe.”

The screams pause as the soft voice wafts through my mind. Ever so faintly, I can feel a warm hand on the small of my back, and a head resting on my shoulder.

“There’s nothing… nothing but your breath. Focus.”

No… that’s wrong…

There are new memories now; soothing memories. Adeline’s smile, the way she could ramble on for hours about the stars. How warm her hugs were, how she stroked my hair when I cried. Her hands are so soft… and her lips… they look soft, too.

Adeline… there’s nothing but you.

Everything is still, the warmth enveloping me like a cocoon.

There’s nothing… nothing but-

“NO”

A voice rocks through the world, echoing and screeching all around me. With a cry, I fall to my knees, pain erupting once again on that side of my face. I cover my ears and grit my teeth, tears starting to squeeze their way out of my eyes. I look up slightly to see a pair of people floating above me. Hand in hand, their eyes glowing bright white.

They are my grandparents, the Dyad that came before me. A blue moth flutters around them, lazily, but still gives off the same vibe as a shark circling its drowning prey.

“There is nothing… but Julius.”

I open my mouth to respond, but I can’t. The pain spikes, and I collapse, face first, onto the ground.

“You are a DYAD… and that’s all you can ever be. Don’t you understand?”

The only sound I can make is a gargled scream. I can taste blood now.

“You have been blessed, but now it’s time for your life to end.”

What?! What are they talking about! I weakly make a fist, my hands trembling uncontrollably.

“A Dyad is supposed to die together… it is bound so tightly by fate, that is the only option. This pain you feel… it is your soul , trying desperately to die.”

No… no! That can’t be it, why is this happening now-

“It is only a matter of time… before it succeeds.”

They start to disappear. Panic rises like a tsunami within me, and I prop myself up before they disappear. “WAIT! You can’t just say that then leave- why-”

They’re gone, nothing but screams in their wake. With a frustrated yell, I ball up my fist again and slam it into the ground.

Die… my soul is dying?

The ground cracks like glass, and I fall. This time, I tear my eyes away from the light above, that warm, soft light that could have pulled me out. This time, I look down into the abyss, and it smiles up at me. I belong to it, now.

Somehow… I knew, didn’t I? I’m nothing… nothing but half of something beautiful that once existed.

I can’t accept it… I can’t! I’m more than Julius, I’m more than the Dyad, I’m the Wizard King!

But, it’s not up to me, in the end. My magic, my whole life, my power… it’s all because of the Dyad, and the person I made it with. It was a blessing, and now…

A curse.

No matter how hard I tried, I could never find closure. I could never separate myself from him.

I am nothing. I am a broken ego. I am inhuman.

Silence.

Nothingness.

Emptiness.

But this time, they’re cold. They are dead.

And they are inevitable.

Oh god oh fuck. Next time!!! Chapter 12: the death of a world. Nobody would take that news well... and unfortunately, neither does our dear Lisa. Will she give into temptation? Or wait for her inevitable death quietly?

#JSDKLFJDSKL #Oh god I'm cryn a lil #poor lisa oml #triad #fic #black clover #oc: lisa

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miraimisu · 4 years

Note

36 lona from that prompt list pls 🙈

[part 1] | [part 2] | [part 3] | [part 4]

The room is a little cold when she comes to, so much so she instinctively cuddles further into the duvets. A little noise escapes her when she finds warmth on the other side of the bed.

An arm curls around her. A groan blows against her neck. The curtains are down, filtering only gaps of pale sunlight. She smiles lazily when Gladion snuggles closer to her, but the moment his feet touch her, she squirms, rolling over.

Gladion groans as she scoots to the other side of the bed, and has the audacity to follow. “Your feet are so cold,” Moon mumbles, half-asleep. “Get off me, ice cube.”

“N’way,” he says, hoarsely so. “You’re hogging the blankets. Gimme some.”

Moon cocoons herself further into the bed, and Gladion sneaks in, making her squeal. He hugs her tight, pressing her against his chest as they bask in the suffocatingly pleasant warmth of the blankets. It’s silent for a while, so much so she thinks Gladion might have fallen asleep again.

Right as she feels herself doze off, his hands begin roaming over her front– but not playfully, as he’d do. It’s a thoughtful research. “Is that my shirt?”

Moon stiffens. She traces odd patterns on the mattress under her distractedly. “Um, it was on the floor, and– and I got up to get some water, and I didn’t wanna walk around the room in my underwear, so...”

Gladion nods lazily, nuzzling her neck in a way that makes her shiver. He’s always especially clingy in the mornings, and she loves it. It’s one of the rare occasions they get to enjoy each other outside of kissing and, well, other bed-related activities.

“What time’s it?” he mumbles against her neck, hugging her tight.

Moon half-lifts her head off her pillow, looks at the hour on his clock, and plops right back down. “Eight o’clock. Go back to–”

He sits up with a start, reaching over her to grab the digital clock. “It’s eight o’clock already? I’m already two hours behind my usual schedule. The things you do to me…”

Moon groans, cuddling herself deeper into her blanket cocoon. One of the drawbacks of dating-but-not-really-dating a business president is how nitpicky he is about schedules, even if they’re on vacation so he can get his head out of his stupid schedules.

She sticks an arm out of her cocoon and drags Gladion back in with her, curling his arms around her so he’s hugging her once more. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”

“We’re supposed to meet Hau and Lillie for breakfast in twenty minutes. No time to sleep for either of us if we don’t want to get caught.” But his arms remain around her. He palms the surface of his shirt that she’s clad in. “And I’ll need this.”

Moon shakes her head. “You can grab another of your shirts. I’m cold.”

Gladion clicks his tongue. “Well, it belongs to me, so I’m going to need it back if I want to get dressed.”

She squeals as his hands sneak under the shirt, tickling her stomach. He tries to tug it off of her, but she wiggles out of his hold, laughing as she squirms out of the blanket fortress and kicks the pillows off the bed. The blankets fly off them as he pounces on top of her, trying to tug the shirt off.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he’s more interested in what’s under the shirt than the garment itself, but–

“Gladion, they won’t mind if we’re a few minutes late!”

He frowns. “Knowing you, you’ll just sleep through breakfast like you did yesterday, and unlike you, I like to have breakfast early. We all do, in fact.”

“Hey, I was hungover! Keeping up with a drunk Kahuna is harder than it looks!”

“Tch. And to think the Champion would be so irresponsible…”

Moon folds her arms, successfully trapping the shirt against her. She grins, but Gladion groans, rubbing any remaining sleep off his face..

“C’mon, give it back. It’s one of the few Silvally hasn’t chewed on, it’s new, and I want to wear it today!”

“You said you didn’t mind me borrowing your clothes!”

His cheeks blister, and she giggles with a playful smile. “And I don’t! But you’ve taken two hoodies of mine already. Do you want to take my whole closet?”

Moon winks. “It’d look good on me, don’t you think?”

His jaw tightens with a blush. He manages to pin her arms above her head, and Moon squirms, trying to get out of his grip. Seeing as the situation is ridiculous, she starts laughing again, and to her delight, he laughs too, half-heartedly trying to pull the shirt over her stomach but, instead, ending up caressing the skin he finds there carefully.

It’s a slow touch, so much so she shudders, breaking through her laughter to moan softly.

He leans down, caressing the shell of her ear with his lips. “I think you’d look better without any clothes.”

It’s Moon’s turn to blush, but before she can reply to that, someone knocks on his door.

“Yo, Gladion! Can I come in? Your door’s unlocked!”

Moon and Gladion trade looks that break into panic within a second. He climbs off her and to the other side of the bed, and with a grimace, he points under the duvets. “Hide!”

She scrambles under the sheets with a whimper of fear, and to her shock and horror, Gladion hides his bare half under the blankets, telling Hau to come in with alarming nonchalance.

Moon hears Hau come in. “Woah, this place’s a mess! Where you playin’ with Silvally again? The staff told you to be careful, dude.”

“What do you want?” Gladion asks through a growl. “I was sleeping, you know.”

“8 o’clock or so. Lillie left to check on Moon but she’s got no clue where she went, so I thought I’d check and see if, y’know– if you had finally confessed your undyin’ love already.”

Moon’s heart seizes in her chest, and she’s sure her whole body paralyzes. Warmth blooms in her chest.

Gladion has actual feelings for her? He’s in love with her? He has all along?

She begins squirming as pieces begin to click in her head, presumably making Gladion panic as he slaps a hand on her mouth under the duvets and makes her lie still.

She can hear Gladion blushing in his voice. “Why would I confess at 8 o’clock? Who does that kind of thing?”

“So I guess you two haven’t hooked up yet, huh? Man, that sucks.” Hau walks around the bed, and Gladion tells Hau to wait, but… “Huh? Are those shorts yours?”

Moon freezes, stops breathing. He’s right where she threw her clothes last night. This is what she gets for being untidy and in a rush to get in bed– but Gladion makes patience hard these days.

She feels him tense under the bed. “W-What?”

“Aren’t these Moon’s shorts? I could recognize these with my eyes closed, they’re as ancient as can be!” Hau gasps, and Moon grows smaller with shame with every passing second. “And that’s her shirt! Dude, so you did hook up! Where are you hidin’ her?”

Gladion bunches the duvets, and his whole being trembles with embarrassment. “I’m not hiding her anywhere! She, um, she gave me her clothes because Decidueye bit into them yesterday morning.”

“Ah, so you’re sewing them? And you left them on the floor? That’s rude, Gladion.”

Moon giggles into the blankets. “Just get out already, I need to get dressed!”

“Okay, okay! If you see Moon, tell her Lillie’s looking for her! And get dressed, dude. Don’t get all the ladies’ panties in a twist.”

Gladion curses under his breath as Hau leaves the room. When the door clicks shut, Moon slowly emerges, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a nervous laugh.

An uncomfortable silence ensues. “That... was close.”

He looks away from her. The tips of his ears are rosy. “Y-Yeah, I suppose it was.”

Moon leans against the headboard of his bed, playing with her thumbs. Her mind goes back to what Hau just moments, wondering if it’s true, if it had been just a joke, if Gladion really feels the same way she does.

Only one way to find out.

“Um… was it true?”

“What, exactly?” He sounds about as panicked as she is.

“When– When Hau said you have feelings for me.” She hugs the blanket to her chest, and Gladion scoots a little further away from her. “Was it true?”

A long pause ensues. Moon nearly damns herself for asking something so stupid– of course it had been a joke, and Gladion looks so pissed off she feels her gut tighten. He never enjoyed it when the media speculated about his love life, and surely Hau joking about it can’t have felt good either, especially since they stated there’d be no feelings in their relationship.

But he moves close again. Lets out a small curse. Lifts her chin up, a worryingly widespread blush staining his cheeks.

“S-So what if I do?” he asks. Her heart stops beating. Her fingers dig into the blankets, unwilling to move. “What if I– What if I do have feelings for you? I know we said there would be no ties, but– but since we had, um, that talk after that party, I knew I wanted to be something more. More than this. All of this.”

Moon’s eyes widen. Words escape her in a tragic manner. Gladion’s lower lip trembles, but before he can move away, Moon reaches for his hand, holding it between her two.

“Do you–” Her throat seizes in emotion. “Do you mean it? This isn’t a joke or anything, right?”

Gladion narrows his eyes. “Of course it isn’t. What sort of sick joke would that–”

Moon loops her arms around his neck and pulls him down for a kiss he gasps against. After a second of palpable hesitation, his arms curl around her middle with a sigh, and she falls against the bed with an enamoured giggle he kisses away.

He breaks away for a moment. His grin, boyish and brighter than the sun, steals her breath away. “You can keep the shirt now.”

She laughs against him before he kisses her again.

#ask #lonashipping #gladimoon #pokemon #does this bitch need a excuse to write fluff???? yes and that's a prompt LMAOOO #it's very obvious that I'm not taking any of this seriously GVFHJEDK but it's fun to not take things seriously #so take this as a segway to the next prompt (also the last) vgjbhfñdl #and some free lona fluff with Hau shenanigans!!!!#post-posting note: read more thingies aren't working and the ask post interface isn't working either #so I'm sorry for the clog!!!

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nerdy-bookworm-1998 · 5 years

Text

Solving the Mystery of the Secret Valentine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader Summary: Two months after Bucky finds out y/n is keeping secrets from him it all comes to a head when the compound is attacked, or is it? Words: 2196 Warnings: Referenced child abuse, referenced torture, violence, angst, fluff. A/N: After all the amazing feedback I received for The Mystery of the Secret Santa, I decided to do a follow-up. This is that follow up. I know I am ridiculously late for Valentine's Day, and I'm very sorry for that. But hopefully this makes up for it. If you liked this please leave feedback/reblogs and consider donating to my Ko-Fi and/or Patreon. If you would like to be tagged in future works please send me an ask.

It had been close to two months since Secret Santa had struck the compound and Bucky had overheard that fateful conversation between his girlfriend and Clint. Neither Bucky nor any of the other Avengers was any closer to finding the answers they sought.

On Valentine's Day, the sun dawned bright with nary a cloud in sight. Bucky had been planning on surprising y/n with a cozy breakfast in bed for just the two of them. However, when he woke to find the other side of the bed empty and cold, signaling that the other occupant had long since left the warm cocoon of blankets. He heaved a sigh and ran his hands through his hair frustratedly before getting up to start his day.

Throughout the compound, the other members of the team were waking to find bouquets of roses and sunflowers, boxes of their favorite chocolates, and small gifs befitting each person and their personalities. Once again they gathered at the kitchen table to try and figure out who their mystery gift-giver could be.

Just as they had decided to look through the security camera feed for the culprit, red emergency lights started flaring and Friday announced that someone was trying to breach the compound's security system.

In the lab, y/n was just finishing up a report when Bucky walked in, looking thoroughly fed up. "Y/N, we need to talk," his tone leaving no room for argument as he takes a seat across from her at the lab table. "I know that you're hiding something from me. Don't even try to deny it, I heard you and Clint talking on Christmas morning and ever since then, you've been distant, and not just from me, from the whole team. What could be so bad that you won't even tell me? I thought you loved me, that you trusted me," Bucky can't help how hurt he sounds, his face looking like a kicked puppy.

The moment she heard the phrase "we need to talk", y/n had stiffened in her chair, afraid that Bucky had somehow found out she was behind the gifts, but upon hearing the rest of his speech, her heart had plummeted to the floor. She quickly gets up from her chair and hurries around the table to take Bucky's hands in hers. "Oh, sweetheart. I do love you, with everything I am, and I trust you with my life," she cooed gently.

"But not with your secrets," the supersoldier scoffs, ripping his hands from her hold and pretending not to see the look of hurt cross her features.

"Bucky, the only reason why I haven't told you is that I've been waiting for the right time, and I know that once I do tell you, you're probably gonna look at me differently and I'm trying prepare my heart for that," she tries to explain as tears build in her eyes.

Before Bucky can answer the doors to the lab slid open and Clint strides in. "Y/N, we need your help. Someone tried to breach the compound, we've got him in interrogation now, but he refuses to talk. We need you to pull the answers from him," Clint speaks hurriedly.

"Clint, no. We talked about this. What about Wanda? Why can't she do it?" she says, her eyes widening in panic as Bucky's eyes narrow in suspicion, the very expression she never wanted to see aimed at her, breaking her heart and causing her throat to clog with unshed tears.

"She's still in Ireland with Vision, she won't be home till the end of the week. We don't have another choice y/n/n, it has to be you," Clint pleads with her.

"Fine, I'll, I'll do it, but only this once," she finally concedes after a moment of deliberation. She looks at Bucky, her expression begging him to understand. "We'll continue this conversation later, I promise to tell you everything you want to know after this," she says softly before following Clint out of the lab. "Do you have a list of questions I can use?" she asks as they step into the elevator.

She sits in one of the interrogation rooms with Steve and Natasha flanking her, the teenager that tried to breach the compound sat across from her and a metal table between them, Tony, Sam, and Bucky are behind the two-way glass, in the observation room. The girl looks to be fifteen, with pale skin and limp blonde hair, dressed in baggy black clothes.

"What's your name?" she thinks towards the girl.

"My name is Genevieve," she answers verbally in a soft voice.

"Why did you try to attack the compound, Genevieve?" she thinks, her mental voice soft but firm.

"I didn't, I was trying to seek refuge but no one will listen to me," Genevieve stutters out, tears filling her eyes and running down her cheeks.

"Trying to seek refuge from who?" y/n asks, her mental voice soothing.

"Hydra," she whispers.

"What did they do to you? Can you show me?" y/n asks cautiously.

Across the table, Genevieve closes her eyes and lets her mind flood with images of men in white lab coats, the red emblem of Hydra embroidered on the lapels, all standing over her with various syringes, scalpels, and other tools. She shows her every bit of torture they had put her young body through, all the surgeries, beatings, and ill-treatment. She shows her how she had finally escaped. The memories end with her sneaking onto a bus bound for New York.

Y/n wrenches her eyes open with a gasp, a blinding headache building and bringing tears to her eyes as the ringing in her ears slowly subsides making her aware of all the screaming going on in the room. She must have fallen from her chair because she was laying on the floor, cradled in someone's arms. The glint of a metal arm and the warm smell of cologne tells her it's Bucky holding her, screaming at Genevieve to tell him what she had done to her before whispering in her ear to come back to him.

Slowly she pushes herself up enough to take in the room. She is indeed sitting on the floor, still cradled in Bucky's arms while Steve, Nat, Tony, and Sam crowd around Genevieve, who looks terrified with tears streaming down her eyes. "Guys...back...off..." she rasps out. "She didn't hurt me..." she promises and they slowly step away, but keep their eyes trained on the girl.

With Bucky's help, y/n slowly stands and walks towards Genevieve. She unlocks the cuffs around her wrists and pulls the younger girl into a warm, firm hug. "You're gonna be okay, you're safe now, no one is going to hurt you ever again, because if they do, they will answer to me, I promise," she whispers in the girl's ear, fully aware that the team could hear her.

"Thank you," Genevieve sobs into her shoulder, clinging as hard as she could in her current state.

After helping Genevieve to the residential wing to get cleaned up, get new clothes and some hot food, as well as grabbing some Tylenol for herself, y/n explains to the team exactly what she had seen. All of them were extremely pissed off, yet not entirely surprised that Hydra would do that to a young girl. They also voted to go take out the entire base as soon as they had an exact location, although they already knew that it was somewhere near New Orleans from the description y/n had given them.

Once the team dispersed to go try and locate the base and Genevieve had gone to her newly allocated room right across from y/n's own to get some well-deserved rest, the poor girl was exhausted, Bucky tugged y/n towards the couches in the common room, tucking her into his side and covering them both with a warm blanket. Y/N gives a soft sigh, snuggling as close to Bucky as possible, already knowing his silence was prompting her to talk. "What do you wanna know?" she asks.

"Whatever you're willing to tell me," he says softly before kissing the top of her head.

She takes a long moment to gather her thoughts before opening her mouth to begin telling her story. "I've been able to read minds for as long as I can remember. I used to get these really intense migraines that would leave me bed-ridden and vomiting for days on end because it was all just too much. Then when I was about ten, Charles Xavier found me. He offered me a place at Xavier's School for Gifted Children. He helped me learn how to control and improve what I can do. Most of the time it's all just a low hum in the back of my head like static on the radio until I choose to tune into a specific person's thoughts. Then I can communicate with them if I choose to, I can hear them as clearly as if they were speaking out loud. I can prod them in a certain direction if you want to call it that.

After I graduated at Xavier's I left the school, I asked the Professor not to tell anyone what I can do, I told him that I wanted to live as normal a life as I can. Then I got the job here, and I met all of you, and I built a life for myself. I'd been working here almost six months when Clint approached me one evening when I was working late and everyone else was either out on missions or had retired to their rooms. He told me he knew what I could do. At first, I was terrified that I had somehow slipped and answered someone's thoughts instead of their words, but then he explained to me that he was always in the vents or perched somewhere high because he sees better from a distance. He told me the tells I have when I'm listening to something others can't hear. He tried convincing me to tell the team, but I refused. When I told him my reasoning, he told me that he understood and he'd respect my decision, but he wasn't going to let it go.

A few months later, Christmas rolled around and I got an idea to use my ability for something good that would bring a little bit of joy to the compound. That's when I started being the compound's Secret Gift-giver. Every holiday, I leave gifts for everyone outside their doors and I never say anything about it because I don't want thanks, seeing the look on everyone's faces when they open the gifts is reward enough."

Bucky is silent for a long time after her speech, then he cautiously asks, "Have you ever read my mind or prodded it in a specific direction?"

This makes her pull back slightly, just enough to see his face. "No Bucky, I've never read it on purpose. And I've never prodded it in a specific direction while you're awake," she says seriously.

"Oh, okay. Wait, what do you mean not while I'm awake?" he asks confused.

"I can feel the general tone of a person's thoughts, even their dreams, so I can feel when you're having nightmares, then I prod your dreams into something more restful and relaxing, not a specific dream, that your subconscious decides for itself, I just set the general tone," she explains while wringing her hands together.

"That's why I've been sleeping so well since I came to the compound?" he asks.

She silently nods, looking down at the hands in her lap. Bucky startles her by pulling her into a soft kiss and enveloping her in his arms. When he pulls away a long time later, he rests his forehead against hers. "Thank you, sweetheart, I love you so much," he whispers.

"You're welcome, love, I love you too," she whispers back.

"I have one last question though," he says seriously as he pulls away completely, going to kneel on one knee before the couch. "Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life and angel of my heart, will you give me the extraordinary honor of loving you every day for the rest of my days? Will you marry me?" he asks as he pulls the ring from his pocket.

Y/N's eyes are filled with tears as she exclaims excitedly, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!" while he slides the ring onto her finger, it's a perfect fit.

"It used to be my ma's, Stevie got it for me from the Smithsonian when I told him I was gonna ask you," he explains as they both admire how perfectly it fits her hand.

"I love it. And I love you, James Buchannan Barnes," she smiles as she draws him closer for a tender kiss.

"It's about time!" Clint exclaims from the doorway where he and the rest of the team stand with tears in their eyes at their friends finally getting their happily ever after.