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#finally back into full swing so i think i just need to be patient with my process
peachesofteal · 2 months
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Simon with herding instinct on that physio snippet.... God what I'd do to be Reader (I'm not sick but I'm KO by my period, so I think I also deserve herding instincts and a cup of tea made by someone who is not me)
I think you deserve a little treat for your body torturing you Same reader as this (female reader)
"Fuck." You draw a deep breath through your nose and blow it out slowly, trying to push the pain away. You have a busy schedule today, and the 141 was expected to be back which meant you'd have the Lieutenant on your table at some point between now and twenty one hundred.
You do not have time for period pain.
Your appointments waltz in and out through the day, your focus turning from the stabbing, burning ache in your belly, quads and lower back, until the clock finally ticks down to nineteen hundred, and you slump over in your chair. A moment's reprieve, a second to get off your feet, exhaustion sinking into you, your longing for your bed and a heating pad stealing the whole of your attention. You can almost feel it, the hot shower, the comfort of your sheets, a cup of tea. Almost.
For now, you swallow more paracetamol and hope it lasts you through the rest of the day.
The door to the clinic swings open, and you don't need to peek outside the door of your office to know who it is.
No one has footsteps as heavy as his.
The Lieutenant.
The man you do not understand. The one who treated you like a small, fragile animal when you were sick, barging into your house and forcing you onto the couch, doling out medicine and hand feeding you warm broth. He pressed cold cloths to your forehead, held your hair and rubbed your back as you vomited.
The entire time you trembled with nerves, staring at the stitching of his balaclava, looking away each time his face turned towards yours. He hated you, why was he here?
Your fever broke, he disappeared. And the next time you saw him-
He went back to treating you just as he always did.
Coldly. Gruffly. Rudely.
Tonight would be no different.
So when you step outside and see him still in his full kit, arms folded across his chest, you wilt, already defeated, stomach tying itself in knots.
"Need m'back looked at." He barks and you fight the instinct to jump.
"Yeah, o-of course." The words are unsteady, you're unsteady, just like each time before, and he doesn't say anything else, just looks you up and down before brushing by you to get to the table.
He's the width of your workspace. Wingspan larger than should be humanly possible, width of his shoulders and back difficult to comprehend. He could tear you apart, if he wanted, so you've always treated him so carefully, staying focused, making sure you don't slip up and push his muscles too far or cause him pain. It's the same care you apply to all your patients, but with him, it's different. It's like diffusing a bomb.
His head is turned towards you as your fingers walk down the middle of his spine, working pressure points. Every time he twitches, or grunts, or even breathes deeply, you tense, but you keep your focus, kneading down to his sciatic nerve, pushing in deep, deep enough to make him groan, your heartbeat pulsing in your ears.
You don't even realize he's saying your name until he shifts on the table.
"S-sorry?" His eyes are locked the space between your legs, and you follow his sight line, gasping when you see what he sees.
Red.
Your standard issue khaki pants are stained dark red at your thighs.
"Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm," you stumble backwards, hands flying to cover yourself, scrambling on how to get yourself out of the room and into the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burn from humiliation. "I'm sorry, I uh- I'll be right back."
"Do you have another pair of pants?" He cocks his head.
I don't... I don't think so."
"Hmm." He continues to stare, and then, like he was having a conversation with himself, he swings off the table, reaching for the jacket he showed up in, before stalking towards you.
You stumble back, but you're too slow, and he catches you by your wrist, tugging you forward. You close your eyes. "Lieutenant-"
"Hush." The jacket goes around your waist, giant sleeves tied at your navel, the length of the hanging directly over where your pants are stained. You're not petite by any means, so the fact that this garment can even begin to cover you is a miracle in itself. But then again, he is massive. "Stay." He moves around the room, ducking into the other one with your desk, flicking the lights off, before grabbing the keys off the hook and shepherding you through the clinic to the front door.
"What... what're you doing?" There's a murderous look in his eye when he turns to you, and it freezes your blood.
"Takin' you home."
"I can get h-home myself." You hate the way your voice shakes.
"Covered in blood? You really want the entire base to see you like tha'?" The shame burns, and tears build on your waterline. "C'mon." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, essentially turning you into a ship with no sails, only a rudder at your back. Him.
He steers you into your house by your hips. You live directly off base, in civilian housing, luckiest of them all, if you're being honest, though in this moment, you're not sure you are so lucky.
"Leave your clothes in the sink." He orders when he lets you go, moving towards the kitchen.
"My clothes?"
"You know how to get bloodstains out of your clothes?"
"Oh, uh... n-no."
"Then..." he motions with his hands for your pants.
"Right now?" You squeak, and he nods.
"Now, pet." You fumble with the zipper and the button, hands trembling so bad you struggle with them. "Need help?"
"No! No... I got it." you get them down to your knees after a struggle, and then kick them off. Will he ask for your underwear too? He answers like he can ready your mind.
"Leave 'em on the bathroom floor. Shower, and then straight to bed."
"I'm not a child!" The protest is bold, boldest you've ever been with him, insecure, scared feelings coming forth in the outburst.
"Could've fooled me. Children need takin' care of, jus' like you." The words jam in your throat, stolen by the intensity of a cramp, and his eyes soften. "Go on up. I'll bring you somethin' for the pain, and some tea." There's no fight left in you, drained like the blood from your body, and your shoulders slump.
An hour later, in the dark, your door cracks. You're curled up in a ball, heating pad tucked against your pubic bone, buried beneath a mountain of blankets when the bed dips, the mass of the Lieutenant's weight settling next to your hip.
He sits you up, like a doll. Makes you take more paracetamol, finish a glass of water, and then pushes a hot tea in your hand.
By the time he's done, you slump back against the pillows, exhausted. Your eyelids go heavy, and he shifts you back to your side. You're too tired to argue with him, fight him, and when his fingers start applying counter pressure to your lower back, working through the tension, the tightness from your period, you let out a low moan. He chuckles. The man actually laughs.
"Why are you here?" You murmur in the dark, and he doesn't answer right away, sitting in the silence for too long.
And then-
"My mum always taught me to take care of my things."
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Too Far.
Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)
TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.
A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.
-
He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?
He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.
He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.
-
He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.
“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.
“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”
“What? That’s not-“
“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”
Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.
“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“
“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”
He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.
“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.
When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.
The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.
“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.
“What did I do?”
“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”
“I’m sorry”
That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.
He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.
“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”
“I’m so-“
“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”
She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.
“Okay”
He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.
“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”
“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”
He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.
“Tell me about th’ vacation”
“I don’t-“
“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”
He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.
“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“
“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”
“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”
“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.
“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”
He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.
“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”
He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.
“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”
“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.
“In every life…If you’d find me”
“I’d find ya”
-
He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.
He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.
“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”
Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.
He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.
“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.
She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.
“Everything”
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bunnyreaper · 11 months
Text
merrier the more
pairing - john price x f!reader x john mactavish
wc -  3.2k
warnings - 18+/nsfw, double vaginal penetration, wife sharing, unprotected sex
notes - after a million years i've finally gotten this out of my brain and written out! underrated threesome imo, lets goooo!! proofread but definitely not enough ♥
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Thursdays were date nights, almost every week without fail, unless John was on a mission. Even when paperwork keeps him tied to his desk into the dark of the night, you join him in his office with takeout and a good book, content to enjoy his company in silence. 
It was one of the keys to your marriage being as successful as it is, and both you and John agreed—quality time was a must. 
This Thursday was a break in routine—John's energy has been decidedly different since you stepped foot in his office. He's always a little on edge when you see him at work, his jaw and shoulders tight, but tonight there's a hint of determination in his eyes. 
Captain Price is present, rather than your husband, John. 
The second difference comes in the form of a knock on the door, usually, the two of you go undisturbed as your standing date is known among the 141, and none of the men dare interrupt and draw their captain's ire. On the rare occasion that a knock would come, words would be exchanged quickly before being dismissed. 
Tonight, John invites the guest inside.  
"Sit, Soap." John commands, his voice low and dripping with authority in a way that draws your attention. 
The younger man complies, seemingly not on edge—his usual cocky confidence is still in full swing, in defiance of your expectations of the situation. Whatever Johnny is here for, he's not to be reprimanded or to report something grim. 
Both men's eyes are firmly fixed on you, gazes roaming over the way you lounge in your pretty dress on John's shitty office couch, your legs exposed to both of them. 
"C'mere love," John speaks, rolling back his office chair and patting his thigh temptingly. "Need your help with something."
You rise uncertainty, leaving your book behind as you make your way over to your husband, your eyes darting between him and his subordinate. Neither man says a word, just continuing to watch you as you move closer to them. 
Your mind starts to race, thinking of just what John could possibly need your help with. Occasionally, he asks you to read one of his men's imperceptible handwriting or gets into a debate with you about whether his own reports make grammatical sense. 
Something tells you neither is the case this time. 
When you make your way around the desk, you fall into John's lap obediently, facing away from him and watching Johnny watch you. 
The look in his eyes is not something you're blind to, not now, not ever. John MacTavish has always wanted you. John Price has never let you forget it—he's teased you multiple times about his soldier's crush, and made you admit while being fucked mindless to being attracted to the younger man too. 
Your husband got off on knowing his power, knowing that you belong to him regardless of Johnny or any other man's wishes, and knowing that while your eyes can still appreciate other men, they'll never be enough compared to Price himself. 
You sit patiently and wait, deferring to John and his air of authority as you wait for him to speak whenever he is good and ready. The silence is thick, John's paw trailing across your thigh, up to your waist where he holds you still, his grip insistent. 
"Sergeant MacTavish here is about to become a Lieutenant." He begins again, graveled voice now right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "If Soap is getting a promotion, I need to know he can get the job done." 
John snaps his fingers at the Sergeant, beckoning him around the desk as John spins you both to face where Johnny is now standing. His hands move back down your body to your thighs, parting your legs slightly by opening his own so that you sit spread. 
You know exactly where this is headed. Johnny's azure eyes burn into you as they spectate every single one of John's slow, luxurious movements—touches that slowly begin to undo you. The air in the room thickens, and your skin burns under John's fingers. 
Johnny's eyes flicker away, and you can tell the captain is holding his gaze. 
"Need to know I can depend on him, and that he can do what he needs." He purrs, his tone filled with intent. "That he'll take what he wants, yeah?"  
John pulls up the hem of your dress, exposing your now-soaked panties to his sergeant and delighting in the way you both shiver in response—you from being exposed, Johnny from finally getting to lay eyes on intimate parts he'd only dreamed of. 
You stay obediently frozen as John teases you further—the whiskers of his beard tickling at your neck as he smirks, his fingers stroking so softly up your inner thighs.
When you look back and catch Johnny looking you right in the eye, you swear you can feel yourself gush—he looks like he wants to devour you whole. 
"He's always wanted you, love. Isn't that right, sergeant?" 
"Yes, sir." Johnny agrees so eagerly, but the look he sends your way is anything but submissive. His grin is almost predatory, his anticipation and arousal clear after years of lusting after you from afar. 
Johnny finally comes closer, his hands settling on the arms of John's chair as his face stops inches away from your face—hot breath sweeping over your features. One hand moves to clutch at your jaw, demanding your attention as if it wasn't already entirely focused on him. "Tonight, you're mine." 
He growls the words before diving in for a searing kiss, his actions rough and hungry, bordering on violently enthusiastic. His stubble is so different from John's softer brush, nipping at your sensitive skin. 
"Only for tonight, MacTavish." Your husband growls from behind you, pulling your hips back into his hard cock as a reminder. He might be sharing you, but it's just this once. You'll always be his. 
As Johnny kisses you fervently, his hands begin to wander too, groping at your tits as John continues to hold you steady as he works his erection into your ass. While the sergeant occupies your mouth, John sucks kisses into your neck, humming at the feel of you falling apart under both men's touches. 
You gather just enough strength to surface for breath—panting and shaken under their joint attention. Neither of them shows signs of stopping. While your husband was offering you to another man, he wasn't going to sit back and watch either. 
"Both of you?" You gasp, words unsteady and breathless. Handling John under normal circumstances was hard enough, throwing Johnny into the mix might just break you. 
You shiver with need as the men share a laugh, and John's hand slips up to embrace the column of your neck. "Someone has to show him how to do it, love." 
The two men dive back into making you fall apart, a flurry of lips and hands tearing you apart at the seams and driving you mindless with each touch. 
"Fuuuck." Johnny practically whines, his hands falling to grope at your tits and pull them free out of the top of your dress. 
His hands are calloused and warm in a familiar way, but his movements are quick and rough and make you squirm under his touch. The two sets of hands on you are almost too much already, as well as John's erection rubbing against your core. 
A quick flicker of your gaze to the sergeant's jeans shows he's similarly affected, and the sight of his hard cock straining against the denim has you wanting. 
It's hard to think straight with every sensation you feel, every thought consumed by the two men ravaging you—yet your mind flickers back to the conversation you and John had months ago now, the one where he mentioned sharing you. 
You turn your head to the side, snuggling into your husband's cheek as you whisper to him. "I always thought it'd be—" 
He interrupts you with a greedy kiss, before freeing you to continue speaking. "—Simon, if you ever actually went through with this..." 
You sigh through your words, Johnny almost biting at you when he hears the other man's name fall from your lips.
The truth is, you had thought it'd be Simon that John invited into the bedroom first, as his trusted right hand and someone he knew would be discreet. Clearly, though, your husband had been paying more attention to your soft spot for the sergeant than you thought. 
How long had he been concocting this plan? Waiting for the opportunity to have you at Johnny's mercy too. 
Said man's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back to the smirk on his face and the sparkle in his eyes. "Don't tell me yer disappointed, bonnie." 
You can tell from the way his voice drips with amusement that he knows you're anything but. The easy confidence has always been part of his charm, but as he toys with your breasts and stares down at you expectantly, knowing exactly what he's doing to you—that confidence feels like lightning down your spine.
"Far from it, Johnny." You whisper, finally taking an action of your own and pulling the man in for another kiss. It's sloppy and messy, more teeth and tongue than lips, but Johnny's mouth tastes so good, and his need is evident in every single brush of him against you. 
His hands climb to cup your jaw, holding you exactly as he wants you as his tongue explores your mouth and dances with yours—it's dirty the way he kisses, the way he groans into your mouth as you thread your fingers into his mohawk, the way he swallows your own moans as John bucks up from below you. 
Johnny pulls away, his chest heaving as he presses his forehead against yours and holds you in a tender moment. "Ye must have a thing for blue eyes, aye?" He smirks once more, and you wish you could protest, but the sparkling blues had been what captured your attention first about both men. 
One set belonging to the man that you married, one set belonging to the man you'll now get to fuck. 
The blue eyes before you flicker down, breaking the connection as his hands wander lower—down past your breasts, brushing past your husband's on their way to your thighs. He grasps greedily at your softness, kneading his touch into your skin as he parts your thighs, exposing your soaked panties to his burning gaze. 
"'m gonna touch that little kitty of yours now." He purrs, his curled finger brushing across your sensitive inner thighs in a way that makes your legs squirm—even more so when he traces up the hem of your panties.
"Didn't say you could, MacTavish." Your husband all but growls, his usual authority bursting through him.
Johnny ignores his captain entirely, his fingers pushing your panties aside to plunge deep into your weeping cunt—he curls them against your walls, a wolfish smirk directed at you, watching you flail as he continues to disregard John's words in favour of driving you crazy. 
"Don't remember asking, captain." He snarls in response, taking control. 
The sound of your cunt getting ravished by Johnny's fingers fills the room, drawing sweet whines out of you. One hand works to find the best angle to scrape against your spongy walls, his other coming to replace John's as he holds your neck and stares you down. 
You feel a shift, a moment where Johnny's attitude changes from cocky confidence to earned authority, him taking encouragement from the way you fall apart under his touch and writhe in the lap of your husband who isn't currently the cause of your pleasure. It has Johnny soaring, and you can tell he's falling into the new headspace with ease. 
"He's a quick study, John." You whisper. 
"Clothes off, yeah, lass?" Johnny tugs you to your feet, holding you steady in his arms for a moment before he eagerly strips you off your clothes.
Your dress comes off first, revealing your tits hanging out of the cups of your bra, and the way your panties settle on your hips, digging into your skin. Johnny's hands move to roam over each piece of your exposed body, kneading and admiring, his eyes ablaze like the hottest part of a flame. 
Then he works to rip off your underwear, leaving you bare before both men. "Fuckin' hell don't know how you tear yerself away from her." 
"Feels impossible some days." John purrs as he stands from his chair, paws falling to your waist once more.
Both men grope at you—Soap pulling you in for another kiss, John nibbling at your neck. Your legs almost give out from beneath you, and you know you'd be so unsteady were it not for being pinned between the two men's bodies.
It's overwhelming. John on his own is enough to bring you to your knees, but him and Johnny, with his blessing? Each touch, each kiss has you whining—high-pitched and almost brainless as your mind fizzles with pleasure. 
Johnny holds you close, pressing his solid body against yours—rough fabric and a hard cock against soft skin. He watches your expression as his fingers dip back into your soaked folds, as your husband's fingers roam over your ass and into your hole. The two men work in tandem to reduce you to a quivering mess, vicious fingers making you drip down their hands and your own thighs.
Johnny flicks your clit absentmindedly as his other hand moves to work on freeing himself from his jeans, pushing his boxers aside to reveal a long, slender, leaking cock. 
"Wow, bonnie girl. Yer that excited for me? Or dae ye just really like yer husband sharing ye?" He purrs as he strokes his length languidly, teasing you with the sight of his pre-cum leaking down the head, as well as the way he squeezes his member. 
You laugh breathlessly, unable to summon a real response until the men's fingers still inside you. "We'll see... how you fuck first, sergeant. Don't let me down." 
Both men share a chuckle, but Johnny is the first to act, with strong hands wrapping around your thighs and hoisting you into the air. 
Johnny gives you a devilish smirk as he hovers you inches away from his cock. "I never back down from a challenge, lass." 
He eases into you slowly, lowering you down and stretching you on his length, each delicious inch pushing its way inside in an almost torturous way. He’s not as thick as your husband, but he might just be longer, as he finally seats himself inside and the tip of his cock bullies your cervix. 
"Fuck, fuck." The sigh that releases from you is beyond shaky, betraying the deep effect Johnny’s cock has on you.  "So deep." 
"He feel good, love?" John asks, stepping up behind you, his voice close to your ear and his hands guiding you up and down the other man’s cock.
"Y-yeah." 
He clicks his tongue in approval, speaking again with honeyed words that make you keen. "Good girl, keep taking him for me." 
John mostly watches, his hands remaining on you, yet passive, as Johnny starts to move. The younger man thrusts with fervour, bouncing you onto his dick over and over and over again, not satisfied until he has you crying out for more and babbling. 
Johnny certainly knows how to move his hips, knows how to fuck—he eases off the second you show any discomfort, and is quick to learn the exact pace and motion that makes you moan the loudest. If you could think straight, you’d wonder if John had already given him strict instructions on exactly how to fuck you. Of course, he’d have planned this to a T.
Your nails scrape up Johnny’s muscled back, clinging to him desperately as he continues to shove his cock into your wet hole, as John’s hand snakes around your waist to toy with your clit. Both men are clearly intent on ruining you. Your insides twist, your head falling back into your husband's chest as you just feel.
Johnny’s hips abruptly stop, buried deep inside you in a way that blanks out all your thoughts. "Need your help, captain." He grumbles over your shoulder.
"What with?" 
"Think she needs her husband's cock inside her too. Stuff tha' pretty cunt completely full, yeah, bonnie?" Johnny raises a brow at his captain, waiting for the man to make a move. 
Each second drags as your husband considers the situation and you're left needy and waiting, Johnny's hips entirely still—John's hands on you inactive too. 
The idea of being stretched by both of them at the same time sends you wild, two gorgeous cocks stuffing your hole full. 
"Please, John." You start to babble, unable to control your own pleas. "Need you both, need you both, need—" 
John's cock slides between your ass, nudging forward until he knocks against where Johnny is buried inside you. The sensation on its own has both you and Johnny bucking.
"That kind of thinking'll take you far, sergeant," John whispers before his fingers crawl down your skin to where you and Johnny are connected, and he starts to guide the head of his cock into your hole. "Shhh, nice and slow, gotta stretch you out for both of us, love." 
“Gonna be a tight squeeze, bonnie.” Johnny mutters, his voice showing signs of further strain as his captain’s cock rubs against him.
The stretch is painful, John’s girthy cock bullying its way inside and forcing you to accommodate him alongside the sergeant—you know you won’t be sitting right anytime soon, and you couldn’t be happier.
Your hole burns with each inch your husband slides in, pleasure only beginning to come when his head brushes against your g-spot—after that, he slips right in, your cunt reshaping itself in acceptance and swallowing his cock.
"Fuck.” You pant, barely able to catch your breath, and no one has even moved yet. You can’t think straight, can’t breathe right, can’t even really contemplate the way your body is being overwhelmed by the two men. All you can do is whine and moan and cry out. "It's too much!" 
John holds your hips steady as he presses kisses to your shoulder, and Johnny runs a hand through your hair—both men cooing reassurances at you.
"Ye can take it, fer me and the captain. I know ya can." 
“You can do the work, sergeant, make her feel good, yeah?”
Johnny nods once before springing into action, his cock gliding out of your pussy before forcing its way back in, squelching against John’s length as it goes and drawing groans from both men.
It doesn’t take long Johnny's pace to escalate, as he shoves in repeatedly and thrusts both his own and John’s cock deeper inside you. You feel your brain slip into a haze of pleasure, all thoughts becoming incoherent as moan after moan makes its way from your throat. 
"There we go, love. Stuffed full of two cocks, how'd you like it?" Your husband asks before turning your head to face him, and then devouring your lips in a passionate, loving kiss.
"Love it, love it so much." You whisper against him. "Fuck me, John, Johnny, please."
The two men thrust together momentarily, forcing you to the limit of what you can take from both of them—smirks dance across their faces, both beyond pleased to have you pinned between them.
"Cannae wait until we're both filling ye with our cum."  Johnny purrs as he buries himself deep.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you, gorgeous girl?" 
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thought--bubble · 6 months
Text
All the things you promised
Abraham X (Best Friend Reader)
Warnings after the cut
Word Count:2546
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Abraham Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Banners and Dividers by @arcielee
Header by @zaldritzosrose
Based on THIS request
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Warnings:: Cheating, Breeding Kink, unprotected PinV, virginity loss.
You stand proudly next to Andrei as your father announces your engagement in front of everyone at dinner.
You're elated. Andrei is sweet and charming, and you were hoping he would eventually ask your father for his blessing.
You had nearly given up hope when finally your father came to you to let you know of Andrei's intentions and ask your opinion on the matter to which you smiled and approved.
You realize now, though, as you stand before all of your family and friends that you missed one very important step in all of this. You did not tell your best friend before the announcement.
No, he had to find out here and now with everyone else. The look of shock on his face and the way he quickly turns and exits make it clear. That was an error.
You hop down from next to Andrei and scramble to find him.
"Abraham!?" You call out as soon as you get outside. Your head swings wildly from side to side, your eyes scanning each farmhouse, stable, and open space before you.
You huff in annoyance when you can't locate him. "Abraham?!" You yell out again. He just came out here. There is no way he can't hear you. Is he ignoring you? No he wouldn't do that.
You don't want to wander too far since it's dark, so you sigh once more before turning to go back inside where everyone is eating. Unaware of the pair of angry blue eyes that watch you from the darkness.
The blue eyes that avoid you from here on out.
The next day, you look high and low for Abraham. You go to all the spots you think he may be working at, you ask around, and no one seems to know where he is. He doesn't come around your wagon once, which is odd. He usually checks in on you at least once each day. Even on his busiest days.
This trend continues over the next few days, quickly becoming a week. You finally see him again, cutting wood and attempt to speak to him, but the moment you get close, he leaves.
Your heart sinks into your stomach as he continues walking away from you as you call his name. Even as you chase him. It's as if he is on auto pilot, and his only goal is to get as far away from you as possible.
With a bruised ego, you give up. You decide to give him some time. Obviously, he is mad that you didn't tell him about the engagement. Maybe he needs just a bit longer to cool off.
You try to be patient, but as the cooling off period stretches across another two weeks, you begin to lose hope.
You decide to search for him again. At this point, you are angry, too. Why wouldn't he just talk to you? Explain why he is so upset? Allow you to apologize? You know he isn't one to get all sensitive or in his feelings, but the least he could do is attempt to speak to you.
These thoughts swirl through your mind as you stomp angrily through the encampment, looking once again in each of the places you think he may be until you finally spot him, brushing a horse in the stables. His eyes staring off in the distance.
"There you are, you mangy mutt." You chuckle, attempting to sound light-hearted. "I've been looking for ya. As I know you are aware."
He stays silent, his eyes still trained toward the nothingness in the distance.
You sigh and pinch your nose in frustration. "Abraham. What is wrong? Is this about the engagement? I meant to tell you, really I did, but things moved quickly"
He grunts and puts the brush down, gently patting the horse on the back before turning to leave the stables.
"Do you plan to just ignore me then? Until the end of days?" Your annoyance and anger are evident in your tone
He lowers his head, his back still turned to you.
"No"
Finally, he speaks, weeks without hearing his voice have made you feel tender at the sound. The anger and annoyance start to fade, and you're left with your hurt and longing.
"Then talk to me. Look at me! Something." you take two small tentative steps toward him. Your heart beats in your chest loudly, adrenaline causing your hands to shake, yet you keep on.
"Abraham, please" You step even closer still, just about close enough to touch him.
"Stop" he near whispers, a painful edge to his voice.
You freeze in place. "I can't lose you. Not over this" Your voice is strained, your heartbreak woven into every syllable. You know he doesn't like Andrei, but you could never imagine the announcement of your engagement would push him this far away.
"Don't touch me. If... if you touch me...." He keeps his face angled away from you as his voice starts to crack.
You sigh softly, and you decide right then and there. He won't push you away anymore. You won't allow it.
You reach your hand out and touch his shoulder, and he bristles instantly before he turns around to face you. Those steely blue eyes meeting yours for the first time in weeks.
"Did you consider me?" He asks sharply. "Even once?"
You're slightly taken aback by his aggressive demeanor but swallow back your frustration so that you can answer him. "Of course I considered how you would feel about this" you start but are abruptly cut off as Abraham paces toward you.
"No. Did you ever consider ME? " he asks again. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he brings his face up to yours, whispering in your ear. "Was I ever your choice?"
Your face heats up, and your chest tightens at the question. You had always thought of Abraham as your friend. Someone you trusted and depended on.
"I....I ....." You stumble over your own tongue at a complete loss for words.
His eyes scan your face and start to darken with each passing second. "No. You didn't, " he turns from you again.
"You never gave any indication!" You desperately yell out to his back, and it's true. Never once had he let any intentions be known. You had assumed this was because he simply did not see you that way, and you had accepted that fact a very long time ago.
He again stops without turning back towards you, so you continue on.
"I heard you. Talk about Luella. Some of the others. You never did speak about me that way"
He growls, his back still turned. "I could never speak about you that way." He turns back toward you his lips pursed. "You don't speak about a wife like that."
You take in a sharp breath and avert your eyes.
"But now... you will not be my wife. " There is a mischievous glint in his eye, and he cracks a slight smile.
The presence of a smile on his face has you confused. As you arch a brow at him, he rushes toward you, pulling you tightly in his arms.
"Abe!" You push slightly against his chest, but he pays you no mind as he lifts you off of your feet and walks you further into the stables and away from prying eyes.
"He won't have what's mine," He grumbles as he places you back down on your feet in the furthest most part of the stables.
"Abraham...." You say your voice slightly trembling. From fear or anticipation, you weren't entirely sure.
His eyes lift and meet yours for just a moment before his lips crash down on yours, his large, rough hands tightly grasping at the sides of your head. He prods at your lips with his tongue begging for entry of which you against your better judgment grant him.
Abraham grunts into your mouth as he explores with his tongue all the while pushing your body further and further backwards until you feel the solid surface of the wooden wall against your back.
He starts to shuffle your dress up towards your hips, never breaking the kiss. You pull away slightly, meaning to protest. You know this is wrong, but Abraham quickly brings his mouth back down to yours and mumbles against your lips. "He won't have what's mine"
He begins to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck, gently licking and nibbling at the skin as he moves.
The heat starts to pool in your belly at his rough touch, his calloused fingertips gripping at the soft flesh of your thigh under your skirts.
"Abe......" You say breathlessly between kisses.
He only grunts and brings his hand further up your thigh before cupping your ass and playing with the hem of your knickers.
"You were always meant to be mine." He whispers with a voice that is uncharacteristically soft.
He slides his hand between your legs, applying pressure to your pearl as you gasp.
"Already sopping," he chuckles into your ear, "and I've barely touched you"
He removes his hand quickly, spinning you around to face the wall and rucks your skirt up around your hips.
"He won't have what's mine," he growls again, pulling your underwear down your legs quickly and helping you step out of them.
Your mind is in overdrive and moving on instinct. You grip the post that runs through the middle of the wall before you, as Abraham reaches one hand between your legs and grips your hip harshly with the other.
You lean your head back and close your eyes, taking in all the sensations as his rough fingertips stroke your pearl.
"You're considerin' me now," He whispers breathlessly into your ear. You clench at the sound as you feel a tightening in your lower stomach.
"Oh my...... Abe!" Your fingernails dig into the wood of the beam you're holding when Abe pulls his fingers from your pearl and instead slowly slides one into your heat.
Your eyes open wide at the intrusion, while your body quickly responds, your hips bucking lightly. You try to ignore the embarrassment you feel at the sounds emanating from your lower body as he continues his ministrations when he suddenly slips a second finger in.
"Abe too much too much." You jolt slightly at the uncomfortable stretch.
"You'll get used to it. Gotta get you ready, " he says in between husky breaths, although he slightly slows his pace.
"Ready?" You huff, he chuckles again before removing his hand.
"Think you're about as ready as you're gonna get." You can hear him moving behind you, the soft clink of his belt ringing in your ears.
Your mind tells you to stop this now before it goes too far, but your body stands still. Legs spread, back bent and hands holding the post. Exposed and vulnerable before his eyes.
You take a sharp inhale as you feel the tip of his cock sliding against your slick folds and over your clit.
"Try not to be too loud" is the last thing he says before he brings his cock back up to your entrance and slowly starts to breech your walls, the stretch slightly painful yet satisfying.
You attempt to heed his warning and pant quietly, but as he continues to push farther you can't help but whimper.
He leans down, slightly pressing his chest to your back and pushing your hair over your shoulder.
"It will pass," he coos gently before kissing down the back of your neck, the feeling soothing.
He continues pushing, the stretch and the sting becoming less and less uncomfortable until his hips are pressed tightly against your ass.
He gives you a moment, not a long moment, but a moment to acclimate to his size before he starts to move, slowly at first but quickly gaining speed as the painful stretch is replaced with a comfortable fullness, that knot in your stomach beginning to tighten once again.
"He won't marry ya. Not when you're carrying my child. " He grunts his pace, still picking up speed.
You're unable to respond to his words. The pressure between your legs, growing nearly unbearable.
You reach down between your thighs to rub your pearl, the need so strong you can feel your heart beating in your nub.
Abraham quickly pushes your hand away, instead bringing his rough fingertips back over your clit and starts rubbing in small, determined circles over the nerve.
Your body grows tense as you feel your pleasure reach its ultimate high. Your entire body shuddering and clenching.
"Ahhh!" You screech out as your orgasm moves through you in waves.
Urged on by your climax, Abraham wraps his arms around you, standing you up nearly straight as he thrusts up into you harshly.
"He won't have what's mine," he snarls again, breathing heavily into your ear. "You'll leave here just as much mine as you ever were"
Abraham continues to thrust into you, one hand on your hip, the other around your throat.
"I'm gonna fill you, right now." his thrusts grow sloppier and more desperate as he nears his own climax. "Tell me you want it, tell me to do it," he demands, pistoning himself into your heat harshly, the muscles in his thighs growing tight from the exertion.
"Do it. Please, " You whimper "fill me"
He sighs in satisfaction and thrusts only twice more before you feel the warmth of his seed spread within your womb.
He stands there holding you tight to him as he rides out his high, his body slightly twitching with the aftershocks of his heightened pleasure.
After a few minutes, he pulls out and releases you. You stumble forward, nearly falling head first into the wooden post you had been gripping so tightly earlier.
Abraham catches you and stands you upright. He wordlessly fetches for knickers, helping you to slide them back on.
You stand bewildered before him not sure what to make of the moment.
"Go tell your father and Andrei you have to end the engagement," he says sternly while pulling his suspender straps back up over his shoulders.
"It.... it's not that simple. " You stutter out the words. You know, in good conscience, you couldn't marry Andrei now, and you didn't want to. Now that you know what it's like to be with Abraham.
"It is. Tell them you're pregnant by another man. Your father will give us his blessing. He'll have no choice" he states plainly, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.
"But I'm not......." You trail off knowing that you could be after what just happened, yet you couldn't be sure for quite some time.
"Trust me." He leans in pressing his forehead to yours briefly before stepping away from you and moving to leave the stables.
"Where are you going?" You call out after him, not wanting your moment to be over.
"To do my work," he smiles back at you. "Now you go do yours!"
With that, he exits the stables, a large grin plastered across his face as he mutters one last thing under his breath.
"He won't have what's mine."
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just-aake · 1 year
Text
Red Room Sacrifice - Part 3
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Part 3 of Red Room Sacrifice. Takes place during the events of Endgame. You make one last sacrifice for Natasha.
Part 1 | Part 2
Warnings: fluff, angst, violence, hurt/comfort
Words: 5008
a/n: This is the last part of this series. Flashbacks are italicized.
Natasha rubs her head in exhaustion, trying to relieve the tension of a headache that she feels forming. They were no closer to finding a way to bring everyone back from the snap than when they first started. 
She lets out a small cry of frustration, dragging her hand down her face, overwhelmed by the feeling of hopelessness.
Taking a deep breath, she takes a moment to compose herself, brushing away the stray tears from her eyes before calling out into the air.
“I know you’re there.” 
Her voice echoes in the empty room. She stares knowingly at the doorway, waiting.
A couple of minutes pass with no movement or response. 
Natasha is about to call out to you again when you suddenly pop your head into the room, looking around.
“Oh, you’re done. I was just about to come find you,” you say, giving her an innocent smile and stepping into the room towards her.
Natasha raises an eyebrow at your words, unconvinced. 
The two of you become locked in a staring match, waiting for the other to give up first.  
Knowing she was not fooled by your actions, you sigh and drop your smile. You move to sit on the edge of the table in front of her, your foot swinging lightly to push at her chair when you see her small smile of victory.
“Yeah, yeah…you were right,” you admit under your breath.
When her smile widens at your words, you roll your eyes and look away from her, your lips pressed together in a pout.
In truth, you’ve been standing in the hallway since her meeting with the others and then with her conversation with Steve, just silently playing with your knife as you patiently waited for her to finish. 
Natasha lets out a small laugh at your expression, pushing her chair back closer to you. She places a hand on your lap, tapping your thigh lightly until you finally turn back to look at her. 
She gives you a soft smile when your eyes finally meet hers. 
“What did you need from me?” she asked you gently.
“Well, I was going to invite you down for some dinner I made…” you begin, before picking up the other half of her sandwich from the plate next to you. 
“…but it looks like you have such a full meal planned already,” you end sarcastically as you take a bite.
Natasha gives you an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry, there was a lot to go over and it ran longer than I—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” you place your hand on her arm, stopping her. “Nat, you are doing everything you can to save the others. You never need to feel sorry about that.”
Natasha sighs heavily and hangs her head as she remembers the disappointing results from the meeting and their lack of progress. 
“You heard them, Y/n. We have nothing. No new information. No plans.” 
“And despite all that, you’re not going to give up,” you say knowingly.
You tilt her head up to look into her eyes so that she can see the trust that you have in her. 
“You have a good heart, Natasha,” you say sincerely, leaning down to give her a soft kiss before pulling away slightly. 
“It’s what I love about you,” you whisper against her.
Your words bring a smile to her face as she brings her hand up to cup the back of your neck, bringing your lips a breath’s distance from hers. 
“I love you too,” she says softly before closing the distance between the two of you.
You sigh happily when you pull away from her, resting your hands behind you on the table in a relaxed position.
Natasha also leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and giving you a knowing smile. 
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you ate the rest of my sandwich.”
You gasp in fake surprise, turning dramatically to look at the empty plate beside you before giving her your best apologetic look, though you both know you look less than sorry.
Clapping your hands as if you just had an idea, you lean towards her excitedly. 
“You know, if you’re still hungry, there is that dinner that I made,” you tell her your suggestion.
“I’m sure I can bring us some up here before Steve eats it all. We can even look over your notes as we eat.” 
You intertwine your hand with hers, raising it to your lips in a soft kiss and then tilting your head at her in question. 
“It could be like an improvised date night. What do you think?” you ask.
Before Natasha can respond, an alert appears between the two of you, indicating an intruder at the gate. She swipes at the holographic message, and a live view of Scott Lang appears on the screen, waving at the camera. 
You and Natasha look at each other in shock at the appearance of the supposedly dead teammate.
“...or I can make a plate for the four of us while we figure out whatever this is.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
The sounds of metal clashing echo in the forest near the Avenger’s compound where you were currently sparring with Steve.
You flip over his incoming shield and let loose two knives at him in midair. His shield returns to him just in time to block your thrown knives. 
He looks down in surprise at the knives now embedded in the shield. At the sudden sound of beeping, he quickly throws the shield back at you.
Running towards him, you slide under the thrown shield before swiping at his legs with a kick.
The small explosion behind you doesn’t distract either of you as you both start to engage in hand-to-hand combat.
You never imagined when you were young that you would end up having casual sparring sessions with Captain America, but your relationship with him had greatly improved since your initial meeting. Over the years, he has become your closest confidant and friend, second to Natasha.
Dodging and jumping onto his back, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a chokehold. He struggles with pulling you off of him before deciding to rush backward and slam your body against the tree behind him.
The impact causes you to release your grip, allowing him to escape, stepping a small distance away from you.
Quickly getting up, you’re about to rush at him again when he raises his hand, stopping you.
“I think that’s good enough for today.” 
Relaxing your stance, you go over to where his shield was stuck in the side of a tree. The black smoke from your explosives covers the bright colors on the front. 
Pulling out your knives from their positions, you then toss the shield back to him.
Catching it, Steve gestures to the two knives in your hands. 
“Those upgrades from Wakanda are impressive,” he compliments.
You nod in agreement, turning the knives around in your hands, admiring their new sleek design.
“Yeah, Okoye sent them last week. They were able to reinforce the edges with vibranium. The addition of the explosives was a nice surprise.” 
Your face falls slightly at a thought, remarking.
“Didn’t really have the chance to test them out until now though.” 
Placing the shield in its position on his back, Steve leans against a tree and crosses his arms, looking at you with concern. 
“How have you been?” he asks.
You give him a tired look, shrugging. 
“I’m fine as anyone can be in this kind of situation.”
Steve nods in understanding before deciding to change the subject to something happier.
“So, have you asked Natasha yet?” he asks you curiously. 
His question causes you to freeze, pausing your action of casually tossing your knife up into the air.
You wince as you respond, “No…” 
“But you two did talk about it right?” Steve says, raising an eyebrow at you.
You avoid his eyes, focusing intently on the tree in front of you, poking it lightly with the point of your knife.
Steve lets out a small huff in disbelief. 
“Come on, Y/n. It’s not like you’re asking her to marry you. You’re basically living together in the compound already.”
Over the past two years, you have been secretly working on a project that you have been hiding from Natasha. 
With Tony’s help, you found the perfect place for you and Natasha. An actual home that belongs to the two of you, secluded enough for privacy but not too far in case there were any emergencies. 
After planning and designing, you began building the new house. Steve would drop by often to help out with the construction whenever he can. 
Last month, you had him come visit and see the finished house. 
Steve looked around, admiring the fully furnished living space. 
“What do you think? Will she like it?” you asked him anxiously. 
You were standing in the hallway with your arms crossed, nervously tapping your foot, waiting for his response.
“Y/n, this looks great,” Steve nods his head in amazement. “Natasha’s going to love this place.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, you go over to a side of the wall and pull up a holographic screen of the surrounding property. 
You point out some of the newer details to him. 
“Tony helped set up the security around the perimeter here and inside the house. Oh, and I also added some extra rooms here for whenever the others like you or Yelena come to visi—.” 
You pause when you realize what you said. 
You close your eyes at the painful memory of Natasha crying in your arms when you both discovered that her sister had been dusted after the snap.
Hanging your head, you sigh sadly, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
Steve places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll get them back. All of them.”
You throw your knife at the ground in front of you with a sigh before looking up at the window of the compound where Natasha and the others were currently brainstorming the possible locations of the infinity stones.
Shaking your head resolutely, you turn back to him. 
“It’s not really the best time right now, Steve.”
He gives you a disappointed look and places a comforting touch on your shoulder.
“In our line of work, there’s never going to be a good time. You two deserve to live your lives too,” he says seriously.
“And we will…,” you say, picking up your knife from the ground, flipping it once, before nodding your head resolutely towards the compound. “…once we get everybody back.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
The plan was created. Tomorrow the team will travel back in time to retrieve all six infinity stones to reverse the effects of the snap, bringing everyone back.
The breeze of the night air causes you to wrap your arms around yourself for some warmth as you gaze up at the stars in the sky. 
You smile softly when you hear the sound of the roof door opening and the familiar steps heading toward you.
A small blanket is placed gently over your shoulders before Natasha wraps her arms around your waist in a hug from behind, resting her head on your shoulder.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she whispers softly against your ear.
Nodding your head, you glance over at her.
“You?”
Natasha sighs lightly.
“It was easier when I had you in my arms.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologize for leaving her alone. 
“Don’t be…,” her arms tighten around you, pulling you closer to her body. “...I have you now.”
You both remain in that position, enveloped in peaceful silence and content in each other's warmth.
After a moment, you turn your head to look at her curiously.
“What are you thinking about?”  
“The mission.”
“Scared?” you ask teasingly.
Natasha lightly bumps her head against yours in reprimand, rolling her eyes at your usual behavior, before replying honestly.
“No. Excited. We finally have an actual plan to save everyone.” 
Her happy expression shifts into a serious and determined look. “We have to succeed, no matter what.”
You nod in agreement, echoing her sentiments. 
“We will. Whatever it takes.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
You and Natasha had to go to the planet of Vormir for the soul stone. Upon reaching the designated coordinates, you sigh and rub your neck exasperatedly as you take in the sight of the long path up the mountain.
“I’m sure it’s not as far as it looks,” you tell her hopefully, though there was some uncertainty in your tone. 
Natasha shakes her head at your attempt at optimism and begins walking ahead of you. You hear her grumble under her breath.
“I bet the raccoon didn’t have to climb a mountain.” 
Laughing, you follow after her. 
After a while, the two of you finally reach the flat summit of the mountain. 
Standing near the edge, you reach out to hold Natasha's hand and rest your head on her shoulder, the both of you admiring the view of the planet.
“You know, in different circumstances, this could be a romantic trip,” you comment suggestively.
Natasha raises an eyebrow at you, amused.
“Time traveling to a strange and barren planet with unknown dangers is romantic?”
“With you?” you say, giving her a charming smile. “Always.”
“Welcome,” a deep voice calls out from behind.
You both quickly turn around with your weapons drawn and pointed at the floating being.
“Natasha, daughter of Ivan. Y/n, daughter of Sergei.” 
At his greeting, Natasha glances at you in a silent question. You shrug your shoulders in response. Having been in the Red Room your entire childhood, you never knew your parents, much less their name. 
Focusing back on the stranger, Natasha asks cautiously, “Who are you?” 
“I am the guide to all those who seek the Soul Stone.” 
You respond this time, gesturing with your knife still pointed at him, “Great. Just tell us where it is and we’ll be on our way.” 
The guide drifts to the opposite edge of the cliff before pointing down. 
“What you seek lies in front of you.”
You both follow after him, looking over the edge to examine the deep abyss below.
You let out a deep breath at the sight, tilting your head exasperatedly.
“So, the stone’s down there,” you say with a sigh.
“For one of you.” 
You both turn to him at his ominous words. 
He explains further, “In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. A soul for a soul.” 
You’re not sure how much time passed since the guide stated the price of getting the Soul Stone. Neither of you have said anything about it either.
Natasha sits with her hands clasped in front of her as she stares blankly into the distance in thought while you sit beside her, resting your head on her shoulder. 
You’ve already made your decision about what has to happen next, but you just wanted to spend a few more minutes with her.
After a while, you sigh heavily while staring at your reflection in your blade before gripping the handle with determination.
When you lift your head from her shoulder, Natasha turns to look at you curiously. 
Cupping her face with your hand, you caress her cheek with your thumb, taking the time to look at her.
Her eyes search yours cautiously for an explanation. 
You lean in and place a soft kiss on her lips, lingering there for a moment. Releasing a shaky breath, you reluctantly pull away from her, standing up.
Taking a few steps back, you twirl the knife in your hand before taking a defensive stance. You give her a bittersweet smile. 
“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” 
Upon hearing your words, Natasha stands up and takes a hesitant step closer to you. She swallows nervously. 
“Y/n, what do you think you’re doing?”
You give her a sad smile. 
“We both know I’m not going to let you be the one to sacrifice yourself, Nat.” 
You tilt your head knowingly at her. “And you're not going to let me do it easily.”
In response, Natasha points her gauntlet at you, the blue light glowing with an electric charge. 
“You’re right. You’re not going to be the one who does this, Y/n.”
Your eyes remain locked on each other, both of you watching carefully for any sudden movements.
The tension breaks the instant you shift your feet to rush at her. 
Natasha immediately shoots her taser disks at you. 
Without stopping, your knife deftly slices through each of the disks as you get closer to her. 
Natasha pulls out her batons in time to catch your swing, causing your blade to slide against her weapon until it cuts into one of the grooves. 
With your blade securely attached to her batons, you release your grip and jump back. 
The sudden loss of your pressure pushing against her has her stumbling slightly forward, looking up at you in confusion.
A rapid beeping sound catches her attention as she looks down. She realizes it's coming from your knife still stuck against her batons. 
Natasha quickly throws her weapons to the side as the explosives go off, launching her a small distance. Rolling to her feet, she spots you running towards the edge. She takes off, sprinting after you.
You were almost to the edge when something slams against your body, knocking you to the ground. Natasha quickly pins you with her arms and body, restricting your movement.
“Natasha!” you struggle against her hold.
Realizing that she was not budging, you give her a pleading expression.
“You have to go back. You’ve been fighting for this for so long. They need you.” 
Natasha rests her head against yours, shaking her head in disagreement. 
“You were the reason I was able to keep going all these years.”
She presses her hand gently against your chest. 
“Just let me do this, Y/n.” She tells you softly.
Natasha activates the taser disk under her hand, shocking you in place. Pushing away from you, she runs towards the edge.
You quickly push the disk off you, stopping the waves of electricity. Picking yourself up, you run after her just as she jumps. 
Shooting your grappling hook to the ground as an anchor, you jump after her, tackling her in the air. You quickly connect the line to the back of her suit, snapping it in place. 
The sudden tension of the line slams the both of you against the side of the cliff. 
With Natasha secured, you release your hold on her and begin to fall again.
Within seconds, another grappling hook wraps around your arm, stopping you in place a short distance below Natasha.
You look up in surprise. Natasha’s eyes are panicked with fear as she holds tightly on the line that was keeping you suspended in the air below her.
She breathes heavily, shaking her head at you. 
“You can’t do this.” Not again. 
Glancing down at the abyss below, you look back at her with a gentle gaze, at peace with your decision. 
“You have to live, Natasha.” 
Your other hand reaches down and grabs the knife at your side.
“No…please, no,” she begs, desperately hoping you would listen.
You give her a reassuring smile.
“I love you,” you whisper softly to her.
With a hard swing, you slash through the line between the two of you, releasing yourself from her hold. You keep your eyes on her as you fall, letting her face be the last thing you see until darkness envelopes your vision.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
When Tony's funeral service concluded, the guests began to disperse into small groups, offering support and comfort to each other. 
Steve finds Natasha standing near the lake. Her hands hold your knife gingerly, as she stares out at the water.
He approaches her carefully. Taking a deep breath, he prepares to ask about her feelings when she suddenly speaks up.
“If you ask me how I‘m doing, I will throw you in the lake,” she warns, not turning around to look at him.
Nodding in acknowledgment, he silently positions himself next to her, arms crossed as he looks out towards the water.
After a while, Natasha breaks the silence. 
“When are you leaving?” she asks.
“In a few days. Bruce is still getting the quantum portal ready.” Steve explains, referring to the plan for him to return the stones to their proper timelines.
He turns his head to her. 
“What about you? With the compound gone, where will you go? ” 
“Yelena’s arriving here tomorrow. After that…”
Natasha’s voice trails off. She had planned her future with you. Now that you are gone, she feels lost about her next steps. 
“…I don’t know.” 
Steve nods in understanding. “Then, if you’re up for it, can I take you somewhere?”
Natasha presses her lips in a thin line, ready to refuse his request. Clint and Pepper have already offered her a place in their homes, which she gratefully turned down. 
“Please, for Y/n.”
She snaps her head to him, her eyebrows furrow in question. 
A quick jet ride later, Natasha finds herself resting her head against the car window, staring blankly at the trees passing by.
Eventually, the dense forest opens up to a spacious clearing with a modest and unassuming house positioned at its center.
After entering the code at the gates, Steve pulls up into the driveway.
Getting out of the car, Natasha examines the area in confusion. The house was a mix of modern and traditional, giving off a warm and inviting feeling. 
It looks like the typical kind of house that she imagined she would have lived in if she did not grow up in the Red Room.
“What is this place?” she asks absently. 
“Technically, it belongs to you.” 
She turns to him in question.
He tosses a key at her, crossing his arms as he leans back against the car. “Well, you and Y/n.”
Glancing at the key, she shoots him a disbelieving look. 
Steve moves his gaze to the house as he remembers what you said when you initially told him about your plan. 
“She wanted to create a place that you guys can finally call your own.”
He gives Natasha a sad smile as he repeats your words. 
“A home that you both could always return to.” 
Natasha feels her eyes tear up as she stares at the key in her hand. Clutching it tightly to her chest, she closes her eyes in pain. This was meant to be a place for your future together, but her home had always been with you.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
A few days later, Steve begins his mission of returning the infinity stones. He arrives at the summit of the mountain on Vormir, looking around for any signs of the guide. 
“Welcome, Steve Rogers, son of Sarah.” A deep voice calls him from behind.
Steve turns around at the voice with his shield raised. His eyes widened at the sight of Red Skull.
“You do not seek the Soul stone.” Red Skull states plainly.
Lowering his shield cautiously, he retrieves the container holding the Soul Stone and extends his hand in an offer.
“No, I’m returning it to where it belongs,” Steve tells him.
The container dissipates in his hand, revealing the bright yellow stone. It slowly levitates in the air between them.
“You willingly give up the powers of the Soul Stone?” Red Skull questions.
“Yes,” Steve responds firmly.
Red Skull’s eyes bore into Steve’s, sensing the truth in his conviction. 
“Balance must always be kept in the universe. A sacrifice of a soul was made to take the stone.”  
Red Skull waves his hand, and your body appears on the ground in front of Steve.
“The same price must be paid for its return.”
Steve immediately kneels next to you, examining your condition. Besides the dried blood in your hair and around your head, your body has no visible injuries. It was just like all the previous times when your power healed you. 
With your eyes closed, it’s almost as if you were just sleeping, a peaceful look on your face. 
“Unlike others, her physical body was able to recover and survive the fall. Though, her soul was still taken as the sacrifice and sealed inside the Soul Stone.” 
The stone floats into Red Skull's hand. He closes his hand around the stone in a tight fist. 
A bright yellow light emits through his hand, erupting into a powerful shockwave in the air. 
Instinctively, Steve covers his eyes from the blast. At the silence, he opens his eyes and finds that both Red Skull and the stone have disappeared.
The sound of your groan catches his attention as he looks back down at you. He holds his breath in anticipation. 
In an instant, your eyes snap open, and reflexively, gripping your knife still in your hand, you swing at the unknown presence next to you. 
Steve catches your arm, inches from his body. 
Your eyes widen when you realize who it was.
“Oh my G—Steve!” You relax your arm before tensing up again. You look around frantically. 
“Where’s Natasha? Is she okay? Did she get the ston—?”
You’re interrupted when Steve pulls you in for a tight hug. 
You pause as you recall your last memory. Closing your eyes in understanding, you return the hug.
“Did we win?” You ask.
Steve nods his head against you before pulling away. “Now let’s get you back home.”
You throw your head back with a groan, “Natasha’s going to kill me when I get back.”
Steve snorts in agreement, standing up. You follow after him.
Taking your arm, Steve punches in the new return time on your suit, patting your shoulder when he finishes. 
You glance at the case at his side, eyebrow raising in question.
“I’m guessing you’re not coming with me?”
“I’ll be there…” he shrugs his shoulders. “…eventually.”
You examine him carefully, seeing the resolve on his face. You have a feeling that this was a long goodbye for the two of you. Letting out a small chuckle, you raise your arm out to him.
“Good luck, Steve. And thank you…” You give him a sincere look. “…for everything.”
Clasping your hand in a firm shake, he gives you a grateful smile. 
Stepping away, you raise your hand in a teasing salute. “I’ll see you in a minute, Cap.” 
You activate the device on your arm and soon you are warped away into the quantum tunnels.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Natasha pulls out a pile of clothes from the duffel bag as she unpacks. 
Clint had dropped off some of her belongings from his place since most of her things from the Avenger’s compound were destroyed in the final fight.
Opening the closet door, Natasha pauses when something falls onto the floor, rolling to a stop in front of her. Placing her clothes to the side, she kneels down and picks up the small black box. 
Staring at it, she remembers the excitement she felt when she finally found the perfect ring after searching for months.
She stands with a exhausted sigh and places it gently in a drawer before closing it shut.
Deciding to take a break, Natasha goes down to the kitchen to make herself some lunch. She just finished slicing her peanut butter sandwich in half when the ring of the doorbell echoes in the house. 
She groans and hangs her head in frustration. Yelena and Clint have been using various excuses the past couple of days to visit, but she knows they were taking turns checking in on her. 
Marching over to the front of the house, she swings open the door, prepared to tell them to leave. 
“I told you I’m fi—“ Natasha stops, eyes widening in shock. Her mouth hangs open, speechless as she stares at you standing on the porch in front of her.
You tilt your head at her, giving her a gentle smile. 
“Hey, Natasha.” You breathe out her name softly.
Her hand tightens on the doorway at your voice. It sounded so real, unlike the one in her dreams. 
She takes a hesitant step toward you, watching to see if you would fade from her view again. When you don't disappear, she comes closer until she’s standing right in front of you. Natasha raises her hand near your face, almost touching your cheek before she stops herself. 
You see the conflict and fear in her eyes, so you slowly raise your hand close to hers. Keeping constant eye contact with her, you softly touch the back of her hand, bringing it to the side of your face. 
Instantly, she brings her other hand to cup your face, pressing her forehead to yours. Tears fall as she releases a sob of relief.
It was really you. You were alive, and you had come back home to her.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
You lean back against Natasha’s body on the sofa, taking another bite of half of her sandwich. 
Natasha has her arms around you, holding you close to her as she listens to you explain what happened back in Vormir with Steve.
Finishing up the sandwich, you look up at her accusingly.
“Was that all you were planning to eat?”
Natasha smiles at your concern. She presses her lips against the side of your head in a kiss as she murmurs her excuse. 
“I wasn’t really hungry.”
Scoffing at her ridiculous reasoning, you tell her firmly.
“Well, we’re going to have an actual meal tonight, and you are going to eat a lot more.”
Natasha bites her lips to hold in her laugh at your attempt at a serious expression. 
Nodding her head, she replies to you. “Can’t wait.”
Satisfied with her response, you return to your previous position, tucking your head back against her shoulder.
A few minutes pass in peaceful silence before Natasha speaks again. 
“Y/n?”
You answer with a hum against her neck, telling her you’re listening. 
“You built this place for the two of us, right?”
You make a sound of acknowledgment, nodding your head.
Natasha has been wondering about this from the moment she first saw it. 
“Then how come the doormat just says ‘Romanoff Residence’?”
You let out a small laugh at her question. Grabbing her left hand, you bring it up to your lips, pressing a lingering kiss on the area close to her ring finger. 
Looking back up at her, you give her a teasing smile.
“I thought maybe that will give you some courage to finally ask me to marry you.”
Natasha huffs and rolls her eyes at your teasing, before pulling you in for a deep kiss, wiping away the knowing smirk on your face.
Just for that comment, she’s gonna wait until tomorrow to ask you.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Taglist: @natsxwife, @clintsbigtoe, @aliherreraaa, @quetheapplause2, @ctrlamira, @sweetheart09, @lissaaaa145, @natbelovasblog, @iliketozoneout, @beholdagaywriter, @natasha-1million, @detectivepineapple, @dmenby3100
a/n: Thanks to all for reading and for the nice comments!
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spidernuggets · 9 months
Note
may I request form the Jason prompts thing? 4 and 7, maybe gender neutral or male reader comforts Jason after he gets a flashback or a nightmare or something along those lines?
Jason Todd x Reader
"Can you just- hold my hand.. please" "You. Me. Cuddle."
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You probably shouldn't have had your headphones on at full blast this late at night. If you didn't, then you probably would've heard Jason's footsteps sounding heavier than usual. You probably would've noticed the darker bags under his eyes and the frown that looked like it had been permanently stitched to look that way on his face.
You were cooking a late... or early.. you weren't too sure, but you were cooking a good meal for Jason when he'd come home. You didn't think he'd come earlier than expected. So you didn't notice his presence or his depressed state.
All Jason wanted to do was rip his stupid armour off of him, get into something more comfortable, and go to bed. He didn't have it in him right now to give you your daily affection. But during times like this, where Jason is too mentally exhausted to express his love, you always understood. And Jason always appreciated you for it, especially how he constantly tells himself that it isn't fair to you and that you deserve better. But you always shushed him whenever he brought up the subject by giving him a big smooch.
He made a beeline to your shared room to finally change out of his armour. He was having another episode, and you'd always notice and give him space. But you didn't even know he was home. Jason didn't know you didn't know he was home.
You were vibing a little too much to the loud music you were listening to and accidently knocked over a small steel pot that was placed by the edge of the sink.
"Shit," you muttered, rushing over to the fallen pot, placing it in the sink and wiping off the residue on the floor. That's when you heard a loud sound of something falling over. Someone was in your room.
You quickly check your phone. Jason always messaged you when he was on his way home. And there were no recent messages sent by him. Your heart raced, scared an intruder had broken in and was in your room.
So you grabbed the bat that leaned against the corner of the kitchen, holding it up in the air, ready to swing at whoever had the dumb idea of breaking in. You were relieved that Jason taught you simple defence strategies.
When you shoulder your way through the door, you are ready to swing, but you immediately stop. Your eyes widen when you say a crying Jason Todd tucked away in the corner of your shared bedroom, wearing nothing but his boxers, sitting up in a foetal position, muttering quiet pleads.
"No- no, no please. Let me- let me go, stop," you can barely hear what he's saying. His voice sounds hoarse and dry, and his chest is heaving. His breathing is heavy and unsteady.
When you softly call out his name, Jason slowly lofts his head up. But what he sees instead of you holding the bat, it's the Joker holding that damn crowbar.
"NO," he starts screaming, holding his arms out in defence, trying to back into the wall impossibly closer. "GET- GET THE FUCK AWAY," his voice cracks and he starts choking on his extremely dry throat. You know that with what he sees, you can't get yourself any closer. So you slowly put your hands up to surrender, making sure Jason sees, and you slowly walk out the door and gently shut it behind you.
You know that Jason needs his space to calm down. Every breakdown takes a different length of time when Jason would calm down. Sometimes, it would be 15 minutes. Other times, it would be a day or two. Either way, you patiently wait for him to come back to you.
You made yourself a good, hot cup of chai and sat on the couch, reading Jason's annotated 'Lord of the Flies'. You make wure not to where your headphones now, preparing your love and care for when Jason comes around.
You turn your head when you hear the bedroom door quietly open, followed by sniffles and the sounds of Jason's feet padding along the wooden floorboards. You send him a soft smile as he walks over to you. But he only stops at a distance.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact. He couldn't look at you in fear that you'd be looking at him in fear or.. or hate or anger. He couldn't bear seeing those kinds of looks in your eyes.
You sigh, and Jason thinks that you'd scream at him back or something. But the little voice in his head is yelling at you, saying that you should be screaming at him. Because you don't deserve to be with someone who can't control what he sees or when he has a meltdown.
But you stand up, closing the distance towards you, slowly and cautiously reaching your hands up towards his face, cradling his cheeks as you caress them with your thumbs.
"You wanna talk about what happened?" You ask. You wanted to laugh at the thought of if you asked that any softer, Jason wouldn't have heard you the first time. But right now, you're concerned about the state of him.
"I- I just.." He hiccups, and you whisper to him, telling him to take his time. "A kid died tonight. Bevause I wasn't fast enough. I wasn't able to save her. She was just a child, Y/n," he cries, fresh tears rolling down over the dried ones. "Bruce and Dick sent me home early because I almost killed the guy who killed her, and..." He stops, choking out a sob. You run your fingers through his hair, listening and patiently waiting for him to continue.
"Bruce said that..." He beginds to say, but his sentence dies out. He doesn't know if he can repeat what Vruce had told him.
"What? What did Bruce say?" You ask. You appreciated Bruce's dedication and commitment as Batman, and you respected his morals of not acting as jury, judge, and executiomer. But most times, Bruce makes a lot of decisions where he believes that he always makes the right decision, where he's a hypocrite towards his morals. Minus the executioner. He shows this off by making decisions on what he decided is best for his sons. And sometimes, Bruce makes the wrong decision.
"He said that if I killed the guy, I might as well be at the same level of sanity as the Joker," he says quietly, a whine coming out at the end followed by another sob.
Sorry, what?
Your soft expression turns into a sharp glare. Bruce said what? You always knew Bruce said shit he didn't mean just to get his point across, but this is crossing a line that you will not excuse.
"He said what?" You snarled. You wanted to slam Bruce's head through the wall.
Jason continues his explanation. "When I came home, I just wanted to go to bed. But- but I heard something fall. It was loud. It... It just sounded like the crowbar."
You instantly felt so much guilt. You weren't focused, and you knocked over the pot. You were part of the reason that Jason had a massive freak out.
You held his face once more, bringing his head closer to yours, leaning your forhead against his.
"I'm so sorry, my love. That was my fault," you admit. "I wasn't focused, I had my music on so loud, I accidently knocked over a pot- I'm so, so sorry."
Jason sniffles once more. "It's okay," he weakly says. "Just wanna sleep."
You nod, letting go of his face and following him into your room.
When he gets into bed, you notice how he lies himself at the edge of the bed. This tells you how he just needs your presence but minimum contact.
"You need a pillow in between?" You ask as you sat on the bed. In times similar to this, you'd put a pillow in between the two of you so no sudden contact would scare Jason.
"No.. no I.." He hesitates as you tilt your head in confusion. ""Can you just- hold my hand.. please" He asks, looking up at you.
You smile, lying yourself at a safe distance so you wouldn't roll over to Jason in your sleep. You tuck one arm under your head, your other hand reaching out to hold his. Jason moves his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. And for the first time for the night, he feels like he can breathe.
He closes his eyes, hoping to fall asleep soon. And you stay up, watching over him til he falls asleep. And maybe you stayed awake a little longer to make sure he doesn't have a nightmare.
The next morning, you wake up significantly earlier than you normally would. You look to your side and see your hand still connected to Jason's. You slowly let go, pausing when Jason starts stirring, but you carefully get out of bed when he continues to sleep peacefully.
You took the opportunity to start making Jason's favourite breakfast. A quick fried egg and avocado toast. But before yoh can even take the pan out, you hear Jason's heavy footsteps come out of the bedroom.
"Hi, Jay. I'm just gonna make you some breakfast, yeah?" You say. When you turn around, you see that Jason is definitely in a happier mood than yesterday, and you smile widely.
But Jason shakes his head at your offer. He points to you, then himself, then throws his thumb behind him, pointing towards your bedroom.
"You. Me. Cuddle." He says, a small smile tugging at his lips, and this gets you giddy.
"What about breakfast? You didn't eat last night," you say concerned. But Jason just scoffs, walking towards you and throwing you over his shoulder, giving your butt a light slap before walking towards your room.
"Someone wole up in the right side of the bed," you laugh as Jason lays you down on the bed.
He walks around the bed, lying himself down too, opening his arms, waiting for you to come into his embrace, in which you happily throw yourself into.
Your arms are wrapped around his torso as his own are cradling your figure. His lips are resting against your forhead while your head is laod on his chest.
"Thank you," he mutters. "For last night."
"Of course, Jay," you reply. "I'm always going to be here for you. No matter what," you promise.
"And thanks for putting up with me," he says even quieter, feeling his lips mumble against your forhead.
Your brows knot together, your head lifting up to look at him. "Jason, I don't 'put up with you'," you say in disbelief. "I do this because I love you. Unconditionally. Why wouldn't I be there for my favourite person?" You say, pressing a kiss on his chin.
Jason smiles. Even if a part of him will always think you deserve better than him, he just lives in the moment and basks in your everlasting love.
"I love you," he says.
"I love you too."
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mvltisstuff · 1 year
Note
Hey there! Idk if you write stuff like this, but what about an Evan Buckley coma fic? When he’s trying to come back he finds out reader is pregnant, while in the coma, and then when he wakes up he tells her he knows. If not that’s totally okay! 💛
put a little love on me - e.b
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summary: request:)
evan buckley x reader
a/n: this was so fun to write, i loved how creative this is!
sitting in the hospital room with maddie and the buckley parents, y/n’s red eyes had cried more tears than ever. watching buck swing between life and death had been one of the lowest points in her life. she’s faced bad things before, but this was hell. she had a strong hold on his hand, praying that he would breathe on his own.
she thinks back to a few nights before, casually sitting at home after days of feeling ill. her husband had been at work, and she had called out from constant headaches. her curiosity had gotten the best of her.
pulling out a box from the back of the cabinets, she took the test out and placed it on the counter. she waited for what felt like hours for the damn test to say a word or two. the flashing was intolerable on the small screen.
she was sitting on the cold tile of their bathroom, running her hand through her hair. she swears she’s a patient person, but this was completely different. she stared at the test before the one word had been displayed across the test. pregnant.
meanwhile, bucks head had been mixed with his imagined life. a confused mix of the life he always wished for as a boy, and the one now that he wouldn’t change for anything. everything he had known had changed, for worse and for better. he felt loved by his parents, but y/n was gone.
the ghost of himself had his eyes painted on his still body. he was ready to climb back into himself, wanting to be with his wife until the end. everything else wasn’t important in this version of his life. he looked over at his brother, who he had no clue of before the last few years. he was tired, he wanted to stop fighting but seeing y/n’s heartbroken self on the chair, how could he stop?
“you have everything you could imagine here,” his brother says.
“no i don’t, i have to go back,” buck tells him. “i need my wife, i need y/n.”
he turns around and spots her behind him. she had a bright smile on his face, and was holding a little boy in her arms. she had been laughing with this child, and her eyes were shining. buck stared at them, looking at the boy with the same light blue eyes and full, pink lips. he had a small grin grow on his face, as the boy looked at him and smiled. the second he blinked, they faded away.
buck didn’t even feel the need to look at his brother again. he knew that was his life that he just saw, his future. the feeling he felt in his heart was something that had never happened before.
without second guessing himself. buck smashed through the glass window of the false reality he had snuck into. on the other side, y/n watched as his chest abruptly rose and fell again, the monitor beeping steadily. a light sob of relief left her lips, her head falling down with the tears on her cheeks. the same with maddie, who had come over and gave her a massive hug. suddenly, the lump in her throat and the boulder in her chest had vanished. he was going to be ok. she lifted his hand with her own, kissing the matching rings.
after an agonizing wait, buck had opened his eyes and softly spoken back. his monotone expression had finally disappeared at the sight of the love of his life sitting next to him. he forced out a toothy grin at her. “welcome back, baby.”
buck didn’t know what to say, something felt different. he looked her up and down, and felt a rising anxiety in his chest. he knew that the lightning has changed him, and he’d never be the same, but there was still a gift hiding under all this. “i know,” he says with a raspy voice.
“what?”
“baby, i know,” he says, smiling once more. “i’m gonna be a dad, and you’re a mom. and we’re going to be perfectly ok.”
it was y/n’s turn to be speechless. she was still calculating how he would know in his head. she hasn’t told a soul, but the ecstasy of the moment had overwhelmed her. her eyes had become glossy for the millionth time, and she passionately kissed him. she nods before she speaks again.
“yeah, yeah we are, buck.”
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aeongstarss · 11 months
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A familiar feeling - Somun x reader
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warnings: blood, violence, choking, punching, cursing, smoking, drinking, fighting
genre/type: angst, slight fluff, slight comedy, enemies to lovers
wc: 8.2k
synopsis: evil spirit!yn is teamed up with hwangpil. fighting the counters has been a journey. you hate the counters, you hate hwangpil, and you hate this never ending battle. despite hating everyone, there's something that no one knows about you. until the truth is revealed when you wake up at the counters hideout, one day after you were almost killed.
title track: tunnel (inst) - kim sejeong
a/n: hello everyone! thank you all so much for being patient! I know a lot of you guys anticipated the release of this! I apologize for the delay, but it is finally out! I hope you all enjoy this as it took me a while to write. I hope the wait was worth it :) enjoy and I will update you all when a new story is going to be released!
“You seriously think that?” you ask Hwangpil while taking another sip of red wine. “If I’m able to just kill that kid, think about how powerful I’d be.” he says while lighting another cigarette. You smile and bite your lip out of nervousness. You’re fairly new to this whole evil spirit thing, as you have only consumed three souls; whereas Hwangpil has consumed over 10. 
But, there’s a secret he doesn’t know about you. 
He keeps you around as his own personal sacrifice, since to him, you’re weak. You lean back on your chair and sigh. Hwangpil cocks his eyebrow at you, but you already know what he’s thinking; you don’t need to ask. You never expected to be a so-called “evil spirit”, but here you are sitting beside the strongest, most evil man you’ve ever encountered. 
Though you hate Hwangpil, you also love him. You constantly try to please him, but he is never satisfied. To his knowledge, you’ve only consumed three souls; he doesn’t know the full truth about you. To him, you are a beginner and nothing but a rookie, but there’s much more to that story. 
Hwangpil stands up, bringing your hand to his lips, placing a kiss. You smile before he quickly shuts you down. “Get to bed. Long day tomorrow.” and before you know it, he’s gone.
*next night*
You and Hwangpil walk into the crowded junkyard. You lean against an old car and look up to the night sky. You laugh and feel butterflies grow in your stomach. “This is my first fight with Hwangpil. I’ll be able to show him that I’m more than just his toy.” you think silently. After about 15 minutes pass, you sigh impatiently as you wait for the counters to sense Hwangpil’s territory. 
Just before you start to stretch, you see headlights blaring at you and Hwangpil. Hwangpil covers his eyes with his arm, squinting; while you stare directly at the car ahead. You smile at him and you two run separate ways, making sure the counters have to split up to find you two. 
You run into the maze of abandoned cars and wait, but you can’t see or hear anything. You look around cautiously, anticipating one of the counters to sneak up on you. With your back turned, you leave an open spot for vulnerability. As soon as you turn around, you are met with a strong hit to the face. You cover your face and wipe the blood off, looking up and seeing a short girl with dark curly hair. You smirk as you stand up in an attempt to land a punch on her, but she trips you and you fall on your back. You moan in annoyance, “Ahh, you’re that annoying bitch aren’t you?” you say sitting up. You swing your arm and hit her in the leg with full force. She falls as you get up to run away. While running, you feel a force stopping you in your tracks. You look around and see a man. “It’s him.” you think to yourself. 
You break away from his force and run towards him. You leap and miss your hit on him. He lands a punch right on your nose and blood runs down your face once again. You shriek out in pain. “You fucking bitch!” you yell out. The man smirks, “Actually, my name is Somun.” he says calmly. His calmness angers you even more. He lands another forceful punch on your abdomen and you stumble backwards. “He’s stronger than I thought.” you say under your breath. You look up and your eyes widen as he stands there, inching closer towards you. Somun stands there, not doing anything. You lock eye contact with him and his eyes widen. “You’re not… an evil spirit?” he says with a sharp inhale
You don’t have time for small talk. You muster up the strength to punch him, but he stops you with just one of his hands.
You hear footsteps running up behind you and flinch, covering yourself with your arms, crouching down. “Stop.” Somun says. The footsteps stop and you overhear a female voice, “Somun! What are you doing? Summon her!” she yells. Tears form in your eyes. Now that you’re in actual combat, you come to the realization that you’re not fit for this life. 
A force picks you up from the throat and drags you across the busy yard. You open your eyes and are met with Hwangpil. He furrows his eyebrows at you as tears continue to stream down your bloody face. “I’m sorry.” you say through a choked voice. You look around through blurry vision and see all the counters staring at you two. You sniff once more, until Hwangpil throws you 50 feet across, making you crash into a car. Your back crashes against the metal as you fall onto the cold dirt. You wipe the tears from your face, standing up again. 
You hate the counters.
But you “hate” Hwangpil even more. 
He has been manipulating and using you as his toy for the past few months. You sit and think about the outcome, if you just consumed one more soul you could please him. Whilst standing up, you hold your abdomen from Somun’s punch. You let out a scream and run towards Somun, successfully landing a punch. Hwangpil smiles at you and you can’t help but feel proud of yourself. This feeling quickly changes when Somun wipes a tiny amount of blood of his lip turning towards you, “Is that all you’ve got?” Your eyes widen in fear and determination. You punch Somun in the abdomen with little force that you can muster up. Somun spits out blood and you laugh. But you remember the part you promised to play. You step back in realization. Hwangpil then grabs your throat once more, lifting you off the ground. You struggle for air as he looks at you with a face of disappointment. “You poor thing. I really thought you could be of use to me.” he says with a low tone. His fingers tighten around your neck and you shut your eyes, accepting your fate. Just then, you fall back onto the ground, gasping for air. You look up and see that Somun now has Hwangpil in his grasp. You scoot back in fear, until you feel a soft touch against your head, and you drift into a coma. 
*next morning*
You wake up to the smell of pork broth infiltrating your room. You think to yourself, “Is Hwangpil making breakfast?...” but as soon as you open your eyes, you realize you are not in your room. You shoot up, looking around the room in confusion. You walk to the mirror and gasp. You’re in comfortable pajamas and all of your wounds are healed from last night. You hear the sound of a small crowd laughing and talking just outside your door. Your heart warms at this nostalgic feeling. Just before you’re allowed to smile, your neck twitches and you grow with anger. You hate that you are always fighting this constant battle. Hwangpil’s manipulation has really taken a toll on you, as just a few months ago you were celebrating your birthday with your closest friends and family. That was the last time you felt genuine happiness and peace. You continue to fight with yourself between your feelings. But eventually, curiosity gets the best of you. 
You crack open the bedroom door, making eye contact with the same woman you saw last night. You gasp and turn around to run back into the bedroom, but you're caught in your tracks when someone catches you by the collar of your shirt. You attempt to fight back but the person isn’t budging. “Ok, I give up.” you sigh out. The pressure from your shirt releases and you turn around to confront the force. You are met with a tall, semi middle aged man with curly hair. You look at him and say nothing, furrowing your eyebrows with hate. He laughs right in your face. Your expression changes from hate to confusion. You speak up, “why aren’t you hurting me?” “You’re not an evil spirit.” he says. You say nothing and look at the floor. He clears his throat, “Come eat.” 
You shoot the man a dirty look and walk over to the table where everyone is sitting. Once you look around, you realize that you had just slept at your enemies hideout. Your eyes widen and squint in anger, then soften again in seconds. The counters continue to stare at you, till an older woman gestures for you to take a seat; a steaming bowl of soup and an empty chair waiting for you. 
You stare around awkwardly, while the group stares back. You gulp, “Why am I here?” you say in a flat, monotone voice. “You’re not evil.” the young boy that you had punched last night speaks up. You dart your eyes at him and snarl. “Yes, I am.” you say confidently. The table falls silent once again. The older woman leans over and rubs your back. In the matter of 3 seconds, you go to slap her hand off of you, but something stops you; your conscience. You make eye contact with her and she gives a reassuring smile. “Don’t be afraid, we are here to help you.” You finally relax your stiff shoulders and slouch over, bringing your hands to your face to avoid the overwhelming emotions running through your body. 
After you compose yourself, you remove your hands while clearing your throat; readying yourself to dump everything on the counters. 
“Hwangpil. He found me while I was outside walking home after celebrating my birthday. He saw that my guard was down, and to him, I was his perfect victim.” you speak up. “These past 3 months have been a living hell. He had forced me to watch him kill and consume my best friend's soul. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. He laughed right in my face and I saw his body contort in a way that I didn’t think was humanly possible.” You pause your sentence and look up, the counters are staring at you with both empathy and hatred. Not hatred for you, but for Hwangpil. “Continue.” the young man speaks up. You nod and continue. 
“After that, he continued to manipulate me and overtime, his words got to me. Everyday I fight with myself, battling the internal war between good V.S. evil. I want to be good. I really do. But something about pleasing Hwangpil excites me so much.” you say as you squirm in your seat.
 The counter's empathy then turns to confusion. You twitch your neck and start laughing. The counters all stand up, backing up out of fear. You stand up, laughing even harder. “Did you really think I was serious?!” you say. You clutch your stomach in pain from laughing so hard. “Go ahead! Open your territory Somun!” you say pointing to the ground, mocking his ability. Somun opens the territory, and immediately, the young girl's neck twitches. “Someone has step foot.” You burst into laughter once more. “You still don’t get it, do you? I didn’t expect you all to be this gullible!” They all stare at you once more. “Here, I’ll spell it out for you since you all are too dumb to understand… I am a so-called “Level 3”, or whatever you wanna call us. My power you ask? Hiding all the souls I’ve consumed! Meaning, you won’t be able to sense me. No matter how hard you try.” you say with a cocky smile. 
Somun and the young girl jump at you, fists full of power. You land a kick on his stomach and grab the girl’s hand, looking at her in the eyes. “What was your name again? Jana? Dana?” you say laughing. You land a strong punch on her, causing her nose to bleed. “Doesn’t feel good does it?” Once you see Somun getting up, you can feel the anger piercing the atmosphere. You smile and wave at him, “Bye!” you say. As soon as he pounces onto you, the counters look around searching for you. You’re nowhere to be found.
*clink* 
Your wine glass taps Hwangpils, as you two laugh together about your interaction with the counters. They don’t know that you and Hwangpil have been teammates for 11 months. “Their faces were hilarious! And they totally thought you were gonna kill me! And you know what? That Somun kid is pretty cute.” you say laughing. Hwangpil smiles, “You did a good job playing your weak girl role the other night. When I was holding you, I almost believed you.” he says. “What else?” you ask teasingly. “Yes, I read your mind when I was choking you, even your inner monologue was perfect. You almost had me fooled.” You smile at his compliment and tilt your head down, blushing. Hwangpil grabs your chin and tilts your face so that you two are eye to eye. “But don’t let that get to your head.” he says with a wink, slowly leaving the couch where you two are sitting. 
*timeskip: 1 week*
You wait inside the empty abandoned mall, waiting for the counters to show up. “I hate waiting” you say while pacing, fixing your leather gloves. Finally, you sense him. “Ahh! Somun! Long time no see my love!” you say waving, purposely trying to anger him. He runs up to you, wasting no time. He hits you straight in the face, causing blood to stream down your face. You smile as you wipe it off nonchalantly. “Is that all you’ve got?” you say, mocking him from your fight last week. He runs back up to you and you kick him in the stomach. He smiles, grabs your leg, and slams you onto the ground. You moan in pain and quickly try to stand, but Somun overpowers you, straddling you. He begins to repeatedly punch your face, until there is a pool of blood around you. You grab both of his hands, squeezing his fists. He winces in pain as you smile, blood covering your teeth. “Where’s the rest of your team, darling? Or did Hwangpil take care of them already?” Somun screams, loud enough to bust both of your eardrums. You slide across the floor from the waves of his voice. You put your finger up to your ear, feeling blood leaking out. You’re drenched in blood, but you won’t let this fight end this early. You reach out your hand, pulling Somun to you. You knee him in the abdomen. As he bends over in pain, you knee his head. He stumbles backwards as you continue to slap him around, not allowing him to land a single hit on you.
You stop for a moment to catch your breath, panting from the intense fight. You look over and see Somun laying on the ground. Your eyes widen in excitement, thinking you have actually killed him. You walk over slowly, kicking his head once more to ensure he’s out. He shows no reaction. You smile and bend over, preparing to consume the strongest power you have ever encountered. Just as you open your mouth, you are flung across the floor. You crash into an abandoned store's entrance, hitting your back against the hard wall. You groan in pain, but before you can process what happened, you are flung back towards Somun. In what felt like 1 second, you are met with his grasp around your throat. You feel his fingers tighten. You flail your body in an attempt to fight back, but each passing moment you are getting more and more lightheaded. As soon as your eyes begin to roll backward, the grasp is let go from your throat. You stumble onto the ground, looking at Somun. He straddles you once again, landing punch after punch. You don’t try to fight back, you are exhausted at this point. Somun goes to land his final blow, but you stop his fist, speaking up through gurgled blood. “I hate you.” Somun lets out a cocky smile, “I hate you even more.”  As he delivers his final punch, he completely knocks you out unconscious. 
Somun stares at you with immense hate and anger. He takes your hand in his and places it upon your chest; summoning you. 
*next morning*
You wake up, rubbing your eyes and yawning. You walk to your bathroom with fuzzy eyes, but you are met with a wall. You bump into the wall, stumbling back. You rub your eyes once more, scanning your surroundings. Once again, you’re not at home. You get a feeling of familiarity. You take a deep breath, trying to remember, but the smell of pork broth hits you. You still don’t quite understand, as everything is both physically and mentally blurry. You walk to a mirror, gasping at all of the cuts and bruises over your body. You whine and throw your head back, frustrated from confusion. You exit the bedroom expecting an empty room, but there sit 4 faces that you have seen somewhere before. You stare at the group and immediately yell in anger. “Who are you and where the hell am I?!” The group laughs, “Seems she hasn’t calmed down yet.” a middle aged man speaks up. You furrow your eyebrows, stomping towards the man. “Hey! Listen! You can’t kidnap me and expect me not to a-” just then a voice interrupts you. “Y/N, sit down.” a young boy says. “And how the hell do you know my name?!” you yell, rubbing your forehead in immense frustration. “Just sit down.” he repeats.  
You sit down, staring at the group. “Y/N, do you remember anything?” the boy speaks up. You reply with silence. He cocks his eyebrow at you, awaiting your response. “I remember being punched. I don’t know if it was last night or last month.” you speak up. “Do you know my name?” he asks. “No. But I have a feeling I have met you all before. Especially you.” you say pointing to the younger girl. She smiles and looks down. “Yes, we have met before. I’m the one you called a bitch.” Your eyes widen. You don’t remember any of this, but this topic sounds familiar. “We’ll explain.” she says. 
The counters explain everything, a long list of information that you can barely process. “Okay so let me get this straight. A man named Hwangpil is an ‘evil spirit’ and he killed people and made me consume their souls, then we were teammates. Then I met you all and we got into a fight. I told you all my power, and then I fought Somun and he summoned me. So I was an evil spirit? Am I getting this all right?” the group nods. “Pretty much.” they all say in sync. “I’m sorry to have put you all through this much trouble. I don’t remember much. But the Hwangpil guy sounds really familiar.” you pause. “Thank you.” 
“Hey, just because you’re all nice now doesn’t mean we forgive you.” Motak speaks up. Your eyes dart down. “I understand.” 
*time skip: 10 months*
It’s been 10 months since you saw the counters last, but for some reason, Somun won’t leave your mind recently. Maybe because winter is approaching and this is around the time the whole thing went down. Your life has returned to normal, and you feel at peace again. You lay down, preparing to sleep. You look out your window admiring the beautiful city lights of Jungjin. While staring at the city, you see beams of light radiating from the busy street below. You look at the people walking below; but they seem to not notice the lights. You can almost feel the luminescence calling your name. You throw on a jacket, and run out your door. You step outside, seeing the bright lights leading you towards a location. You run, following the light. While running, you bump shoulders with someone. You turn around quickly to apologize, but see the familiar face of Motak. “Y/N. We need your help.” You stare at him in confusion, knowing you haven’t had anything to do with the counters in months. “Why me?” you ask. “Do you see the lights?” he asks. You pout your lips, “These lights?” you say pointing to the beam between you and Motak. His eyes widen and he grabs your wrist in a hurry, forcing you to follow him. “Motak! What is going on?” you yell, out of breath. “Somun.” he says. You sigh, not feeling any less confused. Motak stops and looks at you. “Hwangpil. He’s back.” your eyes widen. The name rings in your ears, it sounds so familiar, but not in a good way. 
You reach the end of the lights, seeing the silhouette of him. You stumble back, all of your memories from the fight coming back. Blood is scattered on the ground of the same junkyard you were once in. You fall back, Motak catching you. You look over and see Somun lying on the ground, while Hana is in combat with Hwangpil. Memories infiltrate your mind as you see Somun coughing up blood. “He needs your help.” Motak whispers to you. “What can I do? I don’t have any powers!” you reply. “You said you see the lights right?” he says. You nod in reply to his question, “Then you can do anything.” You gulp in nervousness, but you are determined to save the life of the boy who once saved yours. You sprint towards Hwangpil, but before you can do anything, you check on Somun. He’s barely conscious, blood and tears falling from his face. “Somun, you’ll be okay. You saved me. This time, I’ll save you.” you say kneeling over him. While standing up he grabs your wrist, “Don’t.” he says weakly. You look at him while tears form in your eyes. There is no way you’re going to let him, or any of the other counters die. 
“Well, this is unexpected! My dear Y/N, how I’ve missed you! You’re all innocent now. What happened to my determined teammate who worked so hard to satisfy me?” Hwangpil says in a degrading tone. You rip your wrist away from Somun’s grasp, standing in front of him to guard his body. Hwangpil laughs, “You’re weaker than ever now. What are you going to do to me, honey?” he asks. The lights from earlier rise once more and you feel adrenaline rushing throughout your whole body. Before you can react to Hwangpils words, you are sprinting towards him. You land a punch under his jaw, sending his head flying back. You are running on pure energy. You land punch after punch, making Hwangpil stumble backwards. Just then a pole hits the back of his head. You stop your punching and look besides you. There stands a bloody Hana, holding a 4 foot steel pole in her hands. You two smile at each other and continue kicking and punching Hwangpil until he is completely knocked out. 
Before you know it, you are straddling him, placing his hand under yours. “Y/N! You’re not a counter. It won’t w-” Hana yells before Somun quietly shushes her. You yell and the lights around you grow. You can’t even comprehend what you’re doing until a bright glow rises from Hwangpils chest. He yells out, then collapses. You slouch down, rolling onto the ground. The counters stare at you in shock. “She just…” Motak stutters. Somun smiles and lays his head back. “He’s really gone..” Hana speaks up. 
You sit up, dusting your hands like nothing happened. You look up and see the counters still staring at you in disbelief. “How did you do that?…” Hana speaks up. “Do what?” you reply. She says nothing and just points to Hwangpils body next to you. Your eyes widen and you scoot back. You cover your mouth in shock and stutter out random sounds. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll call the cops.” Motak says, pulling out his phone. You nod and slowly stand up, motioning to Hana to help you move Somun to the car. 
“I’m sorry for calling you an annoying bitch Hana. You’re pretty cool.” you speak up shyly. You expected her to roll her eyes or just ignore you. Instead she grabs your hand and smiles. “That was so cheesy, but it’s okay. We’re friends now.” she says. Your stomach does flips over your once enemy calling you her friend. “Hey hey hey, we are not friends!” Somun whines while sitting up from the passenger seat. “Somun, she just saved your life.” Motak spits out. Somun begins to speak again until Motak pushes him back against the seat, making Somun wince in pain. You and Hana laugh. You move your gaze towards the window, beginning to drift into the sleep you were preparing for before you had to go and save someone’s life. 
*next morning* 
“Boom! I hit him right in the jaw! Then Hana came in and knocked him out with a pole. I don’t even know where she got that thing!” you blurt out, explaining last night's activities to Ms.Chu. She laughs and takes another bite of food, which she had prepared for you all. You sigh, “Thank you all again for letting me stay here and treating me to breakfast. But I should be going. I hope we cross paths again.” Just as you begin to stand, a sleepy Somun emerges from his bedroom. He yawns, scratching his messy hair. You laugh at him, never seeing him like this before. “Goodmorn-'' he says, interrupting himself, “What is she doing here.” you laugh, “Good Morning to you too.” you say. “Somun don’t be so rude to the girl who saved your life.” Ms.Chu speaks up with a mouth full of food. You laugh once more, preparing to leave. Somun looks at you and cocks his head towards his room. You look at him confused “Come.” he says through a raspy voice. The counters look at each other with a look of mischief on their faces. You hesitate, but follow Somun to his room. 
“What’s up?” you ask him. “Y/N, I wanna talk to you about something.” he says, motioning you to take a seat on his bed. You sit down on his bed and stare at him. “I still hate you.” he says. You turn your head in confusion. “...but thank you.” “For what?” you ask teasingly. Somun clenches his jaw, then releases it. “Thank you for helping me.” he says stubbornly. You let out a breathy laugh, “You’re welcome, Somun.” Silence follows until you decide to speak up once more. “About those glowing lights, what are they?” you ask. “You don’t remember? You mocked me, asking me to open my territory back when you were still a spirit.” You say nothing. “Anyway, I opened them, hoping you could see them.”
“I saw them, and something told me to follow them. On the way, I ran into Motak. He told me that you needed help. I don’t know what happened but your territory helped me.” Somuns eyes widen and he grabs your hand, looking at your palm. On your index finger, there is one small little black dot. He looks at it with confusion, until you pull your hand back. “I thought you hated me? Why are you holding my hand?” you ask. Somun takes a sharp breath, “Hey don’t get any ideas, I was just checking something.” A moment of silence passes until Somun asks for your phone. You hand him your phone and he types in his number. “What is this?” you ask, staring at the screen. “What does it look like? Text me if you need anything.” You look at Somun full of confusion. ‘First he hates me and now he’s giving me his number. What is this guy's problem?’ you think to yourself. You shove your phone into your back pocket and grab your jacket, exiting his room. You say your goodbyes to the counters and walk on the cold streets of Jungjin, back to your apartment.
While walking back to your apartment, the beams of light rise from the streets once again. You look at them and whine out loud, turning around to make your way back to the counters hideout. After about 15 minutes of walking you storm in, “Somun! Stop opening your territory! I thought you asked me to text you if I need something!” The counters sit at the table looking at you confused. You widen your eyes, staring at Somun waiting for a response. “I didn’t open anything…” he says. You run your fingers through your hair, “Who else could’ve done that then? I saw them!” you say angrily. “I was just about to get home too!” you yell out. Somun stands up, “Maybe I wanted to see you!” he yells out. The room falls silent. “...What?” you say. Somun clears his throat, “Maybe I wanted to see if you could still see the lights!” he says through an obvious lie. You roll your eyes, “Okay well I can see them. Stop bothering me!” you reply. You turn around and walk out the door, rolling your eyes again. ‘Why does he want to see me now? He’s so weird’ you think to yourself. 
You arrive home and plop on your bed, feeling exhausted. You start to think about your interaction with Somun. You saved his life, he says you two aren’t friends, proceeds to give you his phone number, then opens his territory for you to see. You sigh, getting up to take a shower. You look in the mirror and notice the ends of your hair curling up. You brush it off to stress and sweating. You hop in the shower, ignoring everything, trying to clear your mind. 
In your robe, you go to grab your hair brush. Bringing the brush to your head, you notice the black dot on your index finger. You stare at it closely, thinking that it was a freckle. You remember back to sitting in the car with Hana, she had the same dots; except they were on all of her fingers. You remember Somun grabbing your hand that morning, he also had the dots on the tips of his fingers. You’re even more confused now. You brush it off once more as a coincidence, and continue brushing your hair. Your hair goes back to its natural state and you smile, until a small curl pops up, curling just above your forehead. You furrow your eyebrows, brushing the curl, only for it to coil back up. You’ve never seen a curl like this on yourself before. You continuously brush it, but each time, it bounces back. You sigh out once more, accepting the curl. You proceed to dress yourself in comfortable loungewear, needing to relax for a day after last night. 
After about 2 hours of relaxing, you find yourself staring at the curl that’s now resting on your forehead. You pull it down, watching it bounce back into shape. Now that you think about it, this cannot be a coincidence. The counters all have curly hair, and you have confirmed that two of them have the same dots that you have on your index finger. Maybe they’re siblings? No that can’t be. You stand up from the vanity staring back at you, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and making your way to the counters 'hideout’. Once you step outside, you have completely forgotten how to get there despite leaving 3 hours ago. You pout, knowing the only person who can help you get there is Somun. You pull your phone out of your pocket, hovering your thumb over his name. You text him, “It’s Y/N. Open your territory please :)” You shut your phone off expecting at least a 10 minute wait. In a blink, the familiar lights are shining. You smirk, shoving your phone back into your pocket and walking to the hideout. 
Once you reach the hideout, you walk in, only to see the normal meeting spot empty. You scan the room looking for Somun. You walk in further, finding a sweaty Somun in the boxing ring, throwing invisible punches. You stare and admire for a while, your face growing pink. You’ve never realized how attractive Somun is until now. The past times you’ve seen him you were trying to kill each other or thinking about killing each other. Somun turns around, flicking the sweat off of his forehead. “What’s up.” he says nonchalantly. “Can we talk?... Please?” you ask. Somun smirks and lets out a breathy life, sitting on the edge of the boxing ring. “You’re being awfully nice. Do you need me to do something for you?” You roll your eyes playfully, “Yes, well not really, but yes.” Somun stares at you. You point to the curl hanging in front of your eyes. “What?” Somun asks. “What is this!” you ask. “A curl?” Once again, you roll your eyes. “and what about this?” you say while holding your finger out to him. Somun stares at it with no emotion, until he starts putting two and two together. Under his breath he mummers out, “Is she turning into a counter?” You stare at Somun while he looks at your finger. A full minute has passed at this point. “So?” you ask. “I think you’re turning into a counter.” he says. You tilt your head in confusion, how is this even possible? “I thought I had to get into some type of fatal accident to even be granted the opportunity to become one.” Somun says nothing, he stares at your eyes and pulls the curl down, watching it coil back into it’s shape. You grab the curl with your hand, “What are you doing?!” you yell. “I wanted to see if it was real.” You breathe out, “Somun, you’re no help.” you say. “Did you want me to help?” he asks. “Of course I did! I came here for a reason.” He stares at you, then slips out of the boxing ring, taking a drink of water. Your face flushes pink once again. “Come sit. Let’s have our talk.” 
You both sit at the table, waiting for each other to speak up. “Y/N, I want to be honest with you.” he says in a tone, different from his usual tone. This tone sounds more genuine, compared to the monotone and raspy voice he usually talks to you in. You raise your eyebrows, signaling him to continue. He sighs, dropping his shoulders down to relax. “I’m sorry,” he says. ‘Where is this coming from?’ you think to yourself.
“I’m sorry that I’m so rude to you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to fight Hwangpil; I’m sorry that I had to rely on you. I’m sorry for all of the trouble that I’ve put you through. I hate you, because I envy you. No one would be brave enough to face their once enemy, but you did it with ease. I’m sorry, I really am.” he says. 
You take a moment to process what he has said. You really don’t remember much from being an evil spirit, so this whole situation is quite confusing. Before you respond, you feel a sharp pain in your temple. You yell out, laying your head on the table. A few seconds pass, but you sit up and look at the Somun with tears forming in your eyes. Somun looks at you confused. “Somun… I almost killed you.” you speak up. “Our fight. I remember everything now. I tricked you all into caring for me, I hurt you and Hana, I almost killed you.” you say, now sobbing. Somun stays silent. “If anything, I should be sorry to you. I apologize, Somun.” you say bowing your head. While you feel tears of guilt streaming down your face, you feel a hand cup your face, wiping your tears. You look up, Somun is staring at you with pain painted on his face. You sniff, embracing his touch. “I’m sorry too.” he says through a choked voice. 
You pull his hand away, sitting back in your chair, wiping your tears. “When you hurt us, that wasn’t you. It was the spirit inside of you, but it’s gone now. You’re safe now” he speaks up. Those are the words you needed to hear. ‘I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe’ replays in your head. You smile through your tears. “Most importantly, you’re safe with us.” he says once more. You look at his glistening eyes and nod, “Thank you, Somun. Thank you for everything.” He smiles, and grabs your hand. “You don’t hate me anymore do you?” he asks. You laugh, “I never hated you.” you confess. He shares a laugh with you, “Good.” He sighs out, “Well since you’re part counter, let’s train some.” You nod, accepting the challenge. 
*2 hours later*
Hana, Motak, and Ms.Chu all walk in, all tipsy from bar hopping on their day off. They walk in and see you and Somun laying down in the middle of the boxing ring, completely passed out. Motak laughs, walking over to the ring. “Looks like these two are friends now. Just last night Somun was going off about how they weren’t friends.” “You know what that means when Somun says he doesn’t have interest in someone.” Ms.Chu speaks up. “It means he likes her.” Hana says in a monotone voice. The thing is, they don’t know that you woke up 5 minutes ago, you are just too exhausted to move. You fake sleep for another 3 minutes, until you hear the lights switch off, feeling a blanket drape over you and Somun. 
You wake up in the morning, sitting up from the uncomfortable sleep you had. You rub your blurry eyes, until you notice Somun’s arm laying across your lap. Your eyes widen and your face grows pink. You go to move his arm in a rush, but right before you grab him, you stop. You stare at his arm, relaxing yourself. You decide to slowly move his arm off of you, slipping out of the ring. 
Making your way to your unofficial room, you bump into Ms.Chu. “Ah! I’m sorry, I’m just getting ready to leave. I have a lot to do today.” you say in a hurry. She looks at you with confusion, watching you grab your things and rush out of the door. 
You make your way back to your apartment, hoping that today you can relax with no problems. 
You change into clean clothes and open your laptop, wanting to catch up with friends. You haven’t spoken with your friends recently, let alone see them. You and your friend Suyeon decide to meet up at a local cafe to catch up. You apply some light makeup but while looking in the mirror, you notice the stubborn curl is still there. You run into your bathroom, attempting to style it to fit your natural hair, but each time, it bounces back. You sigh in annoyance, pinning it with a barrette. You walk out the apartment door, heading to the cafe. 
30 minutes pass by at the cafe, laughing and catching up with your old friend. You are having an amazing time until a familiar face walks in. of course, it’s Somun. You decide to ignore him and focus on you and your friend. You just want one day of peace. This feeling didn’t last long. Somun walks up to you two, smiling. “Are you stalking me or something?” he asks jokingly. “Weren’t we the first ones here?” you ask. He nods his head, “Fair.” “I’ll catch up with you later.” you reply. Somun gives you a look of what seemed to be puppy eyes for just a quick second, then his eyes return to normal. You stare at him while he walks away, turning to your friend like nothing happened. 
“Bye! Text me when you get home!” leaving your friend, walking in opposite directions. You turn the corner of the building and bump into someone. Before you can look, you start apologizing. You look up and see Somun, again. “Somun! Are you sure you’re not stalking me?” you yell in a teasing manner. He laughs, “Just wanted to make sure you’re safe.” You roll your eyes, but secretly, butterflies are growing inside of your stomach. “Ms.Chu is making lunch, do you want to join us?” he asks. “I just left, and I kind of wanted a day to myself. But thank you for the offer.” you reply. He shoots you his intentional-unintentional puppy eyes, his silent way of saying please. “Okay, I’ll go today, but tomorrow you better leave me alone.” Somun’s eyes soften and he smiles. He starts walking and you follow behind him. 
You two have been walking for 30 minutes, despite the hideout being 10 minutes away. You notice that you’ve been walking in the opposite direction. “Somun, are we almost there?” you ask, interrupting your conversation. “5 more minutes.” “‘till we’re there?” “5 more minutes of being with you.” he says. You stop in your tracks, and stare at him. Your face immediately turns red. Somun seems to notice this as he laughs and turns his neck at you. “Is that a problem?” he asks. You shake your head no, biting back your smile. You continue to walk alongside Somun until you reach the place you’ve become familiar with. You two walk in, smiling and laughing together. You two sit at the table, not even acknowledging the counters in the room. While you two continue your conversation, Motak comes and slaps Somun on the back of the head. “Hello to you too!” he yells out. You and Somun laugh, ignoring the room once again. 
Motak walks over to Ms.Chu. “Jesus, they’re acting like they’re in love or something. They hated each other the other night. But they have one sleepover and now they’re lovers.” Motak says in a whisper to Ms.Chu. She rolls her eyes at him and hits his arm. “Leave them alone, just be glad they’re not fighting anymore.” They look over at you two, watching you and Somun stare into each other's eyes, deep in conversation, laughing and flirting. Motak fake gags. Ms.Chu grabs the pot of stew and sits it right in the middle of you two, halting your conversation. “Okay okay okay, let’s eat! Y/N, go get Hana.” she says to you. You nod your head and go look for Hana, but while looking for her, you overhear Motak and Ms.Chu nagging Somun with questions. 
“Didn’t you two hate each other the other day?” “Why were you two cuddling last night?” “Did you guys go on a date?” “You might as well abandon us for her!” “You can’t fall in love this quick!” 
You laugh, overhearing their questions. You continue walking down the hall to find Hana. “Hana, lunch is ready if you’re ready to eat.” you tell her. She pauses her workout and stands up, walking with you back to the table. Hana sits next to Somun, like she normally does. But before you sit, Somun is staring at her like she has a death wish. She looks at you and back to Somun, nodding her head in realization, scooting to sit next to Ms.Chu. You laugh awkwardly and sit next to Somun. 
You all talk and indulge in conversation for hours, getting to know each other. During this, you had told them about the obnoxious curl and the single dot on your finger. They had no answer, but they explained Yung to you, and how summoning works. You feel grateful that they decided to share this information with you. You look at the time, realizing it’s 9pm. Time flew by while you were eating and hanging out with everyone. You stand up, announcing that it’s time for you to go. The counters nod, but Hana and Somun are shooting each other a look. Hana then shoots up, “Why don’t you stay here?” she says, shooting an obvious wink at the other counters. “She’s right! It’s getting late!” Ms.Chu says. By now, you can see right through them; but they are all horrible liars. Motak fake yawns, getting up from the table walking into your ‘unofficial’ room. “Motak! That’s my room!” you yell. He pretends not to hear you and slams the door shut. You look back at the table, seeing that everyone has left except Somun. He looks at you before you shut him down. “No! I am not sleeping in the boxing ring again!” you yell out. Somun laughs, “I wasn’t going to suggest that,” he says. You shoot him a confused look. 
You are now laying in his bed, only a pillow dividing you two. You lay there with your eyes wide open, being able to hear your own heartbeat in the silence. With Somun laying beside you, you think back to all of the interactions you two have had together. First you were enemies, then you didn’t speak for months, and now you’re laying in the same bed as him with nothing but a pillow separating your bodies from touching. Somun groans, rolling over to face you. Throwing the pillow across the room, wrapping his arm around your waist. Your eyes widen, while you stare at his closed eyes. His touch instantly calmed you. You embrace his touch once more, admiring his face while he sleeps beside you. You feel a smile growing onto your face, now hearing your heartbeat 10x clearer. You hesitantly cup his face, “Goodnight, Somun.” you whisper, while closing your eyes.
 As soon as you begin to drift into sleep, you feel Somun move around again. You try to ignore it, but his constant rustling around is not allowing you to sleep. You sit up, whining, “Somun, why do you keep moving around?” you ask. “I can’t sleep.” You ask in a panic, “Have you been awake this whole time?” “Yes” he replies. You fall back onto the soft pillow, covering your face from embarrassment. “So you heard what I said?” you ask through your hands. “I can’t hear you when you're covering your face.” he says teasingly. You sit up again, now facing him. The only thing illuminating his face are the city lights. “You heard me say goodnight? and you felt me cupping your face? you also purposely threw the pillow! this is not fair!-“ You are cut off mid sentence, but instead of being interrupted, you are silenced by Somun crashing his lips onto yours. You close your eyes, embracing the moment. Somun pulls away, his face a shade of light pink. “Now you can relax. Go to sleep.” he says nonchalantly. You stare at him in shock. “Did you just….” you trail off. “Kiss you? yes, do you want me to do it again?” he asks. Before you can answer, Somuns hand is on your waist, bringing his lips slowly to yours once again. 
You pull away, still not processing what just happened. “Now seriously, go to sleep! You’ll be tired tomorrow.” he says while laying back down. You follow his action laying down beside him, this time with no border between you two. You hesitate, but you slowly move his arm to caress your waist; falling asleep together under the city lights. 
*time skip*
It’s been 6 months since you joined the counters, and 7 months since you and Somun started officially dating. You have moved in with the counters now since you’re here everyday, and also, your landlord increased your rent. You train hard everyday so that the counters will finally allow you to fight one day. Over the past 6 months, you have found 5 new curls and 2 new dots on your fingers; one on your pinky and one of your ring finger. You have learned to summon territories as well, it takes 3 nosebleeds and an inhaler though. The counters have always been by your side, helping and guiding you. 
You are so glad to have been accepted into such a wonderful space, and have a wonderful boyfriend. You don’t know where you would be if you never found them. 
Though being evil was the worst time of your life, you feel a sense of thankfulness. You would have never been where you are now. You wouldn’t be dating Somun, you wouldn’t be helping Hana with her hair and makeup, you wouldn’t be training with Motak, and you wouldn’t be helping Ms.Chu prepare dinner each night. 
You are beyond grateful for where you are right now; and it’s all thanks to Somun for believing in you. 
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strwbrryeyes · 4 months
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can u do daichi and/or tsuki x tennis player! reader who plays singles (1v1 instead of doubles which is 2v2 lool)? hcs or fic would be fine :3 esp w a reader who hurt their wrist mid season n is rlly frustrated bcus they can’t play until next season unless their wrist gets better bcus that happened to me <//3 (i play anyway even if my wrist is shit bcus i love tennis; daichi would scold me so bad for it too <//3) thank uuuu, i think u mentioned exams (or finals idk the difference) in ur latest posts so i hope they went well!!!
𖦹°。⋆ Wristache and heartache (daichi x reader)
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⟡ cw: angst, reader has an injusry and feels hopeless, comfort, fluff, lmk if i missed anything
⟡ a/n: i dont know anything about tennis. im alos bad with titles.
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Daichi Sawamura had always admired your dedication to tennis. As the captain of the Karasuno volleyball team, he understood the love and passion that athletes carried for their sport. Daichi also knew the importance of listening to your body, something you seemed to be struggling with ever since you badly injured your wrist.
The injury has been a big  setback and it was starting to take a toll on you. The season was in full swing, and you were supposed to be playing singles matches, something you were no doubt the best at. Yet here you were, on the sidelines, forced to sit out due to the sharp pain in your wrist. You couldn’t even try to step foot onto the court during games or team practice because your coach had made it clear: no matches until you were fully healed and cleared by the doctor and although this decision was the right one and a necessary one, it still left you feeling frustrated and heartbroken.
Despite the pain and coach’s orders, you couldn't stay away from the court for too long. Every day after school, you'd find yourself at the community center’s tennis courts, practicing your serves and forehands, wincing occasionally when the pain shot through your wrist. You knew it was risky, but tennis was your entire life and ticket to a scholarship for university. You couldn't afford to be away from it for possibly the rest of the season. However, your secret trips to the tennis court were short lived.
Daichi watched you from a distance one afternoon, his brows furrowing with concern. He had come to pick you up like he has been for the last few day, but seeing you push yourself despite your injury was beginning to worry him more than usual. He approached you slowly, hands in his pockets, trying to find the right words.
“[name],” Daichi calls out with a firm voice that had a hint of worry “we need to talk.”
You looked up, surprised to see him there. You hadn't expected him to come this early. "Hey, Daichi. Just give me a few more minutes. I need to work on my backhand." You said before turning back to throw a tennis ball into the air until Daichi took the tennis racket away from you.
Daichi shook his head, his expression stern. "No, we need to talk now. You're pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest."
You sighed, frustration bubbling up inside you. "I can't just sit around and do nothing, Daichi. Tennis means everything to me. If I don't practice, I'll lose all I’ve worked for these past three years!" you say as you snatch your racket back from him.
He walked over to you, taking the racket from your hand gently once again and setting it aside. "And what good is practicing if it only makes your injury worse? You won't be able to play at all if you don't let your wrist heal and then that’ll make you feel worse!”
"But what if I never get better? What if this is it for me?" Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes as you shout at Daichi.
Daichi's expression softened. He reached out, cupping your face in his hands. "You will get better but to do so, you have to be patient. I know it's hard and the last thing you want to do right now, but sometimes the best way to keep going is to take a step back and heal. I'm here for you, and I am sure your team is too. You don't have to go through this alone."
"I just miss it so much, Daichi. I feel so useless." You leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his words, allowing you to let a few tears roll down your face.
"You're not useless," he assured you, his thumbs brushing away your tears. "You're one of the strongest people I know. Strength isn't just about pushing through pain, it's also about knowing when to rest and take care of yourself."
You nodded, his words sinking in. "Okay," you whispered. "I'll try to rest more."
Daichi smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "That's my girl. And don't worry, I'll make sure you stay out of trouble."
You chuckled softly, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I'm counting on you."
The following weeks were a test of your patience but as promised, Daichi kept a close eye on you, making sure you followed the doctor's orders and rested your wrist and the rest of your body, making sure you were fully relaxed and at ease. It wasn't easy, and there were days when you felt like giving up, but Daichi's support helped you stay strong the whole way through.
He'd often join you at the courts, not to practice but to keep you company as you watched your team practice while you were on the sidelines. He'd even bring his volleyball team along, turning your forced downtime into fun, supportive gatherings as everyone loved their captain’s sweet girlfriend. It wasn't the same as playing tennis with your team in the moment, but it reminded you that you had a strong support system no matter where you went, and that made you feel so much better about this tennis break.
Slowly but surely, your wrist began to heal and you started feeling better. The day you were finally cleared to play again was a moment of pure happiness, not just for you, but for everyone who had supported you through this slump and setback.
As you stepped onto the court for your first match back, you looked over to the sidelines where Daichi stood along with his own team, cheering you on with a proud smile. You knew you couldn't have made it through without him. 
And as the match started, all you could feel was happiness, determination, and most importantly, thankful for your loving boyfriend who was there for you every step of the way because without him, you aren’t sure you would have made it through these last few weeks.
With Daichi by your side, you can do anything.
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thisapplepielife · 2 months
Text
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Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.
Room 1015 - Gareth
Day #23 - Up and Coming | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth/Di (OC) | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Touring, Winding Down After The Gig, New and Exciting Love
1 Night, 4 Rooms Each is standalone, but takes place on the same hotel floor.
Eddie | Goodie | Gareth | Jeff | Steve (Bonus morning after!)
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Gareth hears it on both sides, and tries to block out the sound. The last thing he wants to be thinking about is any of his bandmates, his friends, having sex while he's hopefully getting ready to do the same thing himself.
They really need to start booking rooms on different floors. But that would just make more work for Steve, so that's probably not gonna happen. They're on the bus most of the time these days, anyway. Hotels are for special days off, like tonight, because Di was coming in to meet him.
Sounds like they all made good use having rooms tonight. A clean sweep, a home run, the full monty. All of them coming home from the bar with company.
That almost never happens. It's more rare than, well, fuck, just about anything. 
But, one-by-one, they left the bar. First Eddie, but that was with Steve, so that's hardly a surprise and should really be thrown out of all present and future statistics. It's skewing the data. A done deal.
A constant. 
But then Jeff picked up a girl, then another girl kept circling the table, and Gareth couldn't exactly tell if she was trying to catch his eye, or Goodie's.
And it was Goodie she wanted to fuck, apparently.
Gareth wasn't interested anyway, but still. Way to make him feel like the last loser left behind. Goodie eventually struck up a conversation with her at the bar, and then he was gone, too. 
And that left Gareth, all alone to pay the tab that the rest of them conveniently left for him. He didn't even drink tonight, not wanting to be sloshed when Di showed up, so having to pay the entire tab was really kind of fucked.
Now, he's on the bed in his own room, waiting. Somewhat patiently. This thing between them in still pretty new, and long distance, but hot and fucking heavy. Maybe he should check with the front desk again. Make sure she's not waiting. He left very specific instructions that she was to be given a key and let up. 
When the door finally swings open, Di's standing there in a floral sundress that she immediately strips over her head, leaving her in her bra and panties, as soon as her suitcase hits the floor. 
And he's lucky. 
Very, very lucky.
She crawls up on the bed, and straddles his thighs. Pressing right down against him. He runs his hands all over her back, just wanting to touch her.
"I missed you," he says.
Her flight was delayed, and she missed the show. They were both disappointed about that, but she's here now.
"I missed you, too," Di says, rocking on his clothed dick. "I'm sorry I missed the show. I tried. Believe it or not, you can't just talk your way onto a plane with a sob story."
Gareth laughs. If anyone could, it'd be her, though. 
He wishes she'd made it, but knows it was totally out of her control. If Steve couldn't make it happen, it was impossible. That much Gareth knows. There'll be other shows. A lifetime of them, maybe.
At least they'll have tomorrow, a day off, together. It's a travel day, so they'll have to get on the bus, but he's called dibs on the back bedroom. The only bit of privacy. 
She feels good on him, and he knows they could both get off like this, have, they are that fucking horny for each other. He met his match in her, somehow. And he wants more, but has other plans first. He anchors himself, rolling them, flipping her onto her back. Settling between her thighs. 
She laughs, touching his forehead, brushing his hair back. He yanks down her panties and breathes in the smell of her, as his tongue gets to work. He didn't need to drink tonight at the bar, he'll get drunk on her.
It's his favorite thing. Always has been, always will be. 
Eating pussy. That's his gift. Well, and drumming. Equal talents, he's pretty sure. 
He loves her. 
He hasn't told her that, it's probably too soon. But he's loved her since the first night, he's quickly realizing. Love at first sight always seemed like such bullshit, even after he basically saw it happen with Eddie and Steve.
He still didn't believe.
Now, he thinks he just might.
His tongue licking upwards, then back down, delving inside her, getting her even wetter than she already is. Wanting to make her happy, wanting to make her come, over and over. 
He circles her clit with the tip of his tongue, and her breathing changes. Raggedy, as she works towards an orgasm, thighs shaking around his ears. 
She's quiet, though. Unlike whatever the fuck is happening in the room next door. Goodie ain't that good in bed. No way in hell. 
He pushes it out of his mind, focusing only on Di. She makes a breathy noise and clenches around his ears, coming. 
If he keeps it up, he might be about to stretch it into a second.
She cards her fingers through his hair, rubbing his scalp, "Gare. Now." 
He's happy right where he is, but he comes up, reluctantly, and can smell her on his upper lip in a way that makes his dick throb as he reaches for a condom, rolling it down. He expects to slide on top of her, but she's climbing on his lap, guiding herself down onto his cock. 
"Like that," she says, and he'll continue to do anything she wants, for as long as she'll let him. Forever, even. 
Chest-to-chest, she's just rolling her hips, fucking him. He hugs her close, both hands on her back, his face buried in her neck. 
She's perfect. He doesn't know how he existed before her, honestly. He knows he's got lots of shit, lots of baggage, and he's nowhere near perfect.
But he wants to keep her, keep them. 
He really, really wants to love her. 
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
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codfanficedits · 11 months
Text
Rituals.
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader
Summary: A little ritual before a mission.
Wordcount: 1363| Rating: M (18+ only!)
Warnings: Angst with no comfort <3
A/N: I completed one deadline and rewarded myself with a little writing break.
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Rituals.
Life was full of them, little rituals to make life better. From tapping on a can before you could drink, to making sure you’ve taken a picture of your straightener to make sure that you did indeed turned it off.
Simon had to go on a mission, and he would be gone for a while. You hum as you hear the shower turn off, and you count down the minutes until the door from the bathroom swings open. You’re patient, and your patience gets rewarded. No matter how often you’ve seen him in his uniform, he still looks divine to you.
His eyes and eyelids are covered in his black face paint, as he sits down on the bed, legs parted so you can stand in between them, a meaningful moment of eye contact before he closes those beautiful brown eyes. He needs this little ritual. He knows every meeting might as well be the last one.
You are familiar with the loss that comes with the profession. It is the main reason why you traded your position in the field for a position behind a desk in the army. You had begged him to do the same, but it was a discussion you lost and you learned that he belonged on the field. That didn't mean that you weren’t worried every time he had to leave. In their years together they had to bury their friends, their coworkers.
So you cherish these little moments, as your soft lips kissed his eyelids, with soft, tender kisses. Your hair tickling his arm as you leaned towards him, your eyes closing too while you painted his eyelids with your kisses.
He gazes at you, his brown eyes drinking in your soft beauty. It still surprises him how a girl like you ended up with the likes of him. He can't see past all the scars and the tattoos. He is certain you could have done better. You are so gentle and sweet, yet he is a walking nightmare.
The corner of his mouth twitches upwards in a rueful half-smile. This was the last time he would see you for some time. It had become a common ritual, this ritual of kisses and embraces. And he didn't want to break it.
You see the half-smile, and you understand the hidden meaning behind it. So your soft lips finds the corner of his mouth, pressing soft kisses on the soft skin. Your hands rest on his waist, holding him in place while you assault his face with your love.
He leans into your embrace, allowing your kisses to claim every inch of his face. A low grunt escapes the back of his throat, his expression softening as his face is showered with affection. He is not sure what to do with such soft contact and so he doesn't know how to respond. So he simply accepts it. His gloved hand reaches out and gently grasps your chin, slowly caressing your skin as he presses you closer to him. When you first got together you had to force him to accept your love, and it took a little while before he accepted it. And even years later he still doesn't know how to respond, so he just accepts it, he accepts you.
You knows you are running out of time, so you pull back, time for the second part of your little ritual. A little mirror and a red lipstick are whipped out and you stain him with your red lips, marks about to be hidden under the balaclava and the mask. You kiss his forehead, his cheeks and finally his lips.
"Come home to me, yeah?" You murmur. His face is a sight to behold. The mixture of black paint and red lipstick is a rather amusing one, but nonetheless it looks quite good on him. There is a subtle blush on his cheeks and he finds himself smiling without even thinking about it.
"There's no way I won't come back for you," He whispers, pressing his cheek against yours. Your cheek stains with the black paint and the red lipstick, covering but you don’t mind. It is a reminder of his love. "And there's no way I won't do what is necessary either."
He lets out a quiet chuckle. "Promise me that you won't drive yourself crazy worrying about me."
"Don't make me promise something I can't keep." You respond. "You know I always worry about you."
"Then I'll worry about you too," is his response, his hands reaching up to grasp your shoulders before he gives you one last kiss before you help him with the balaclava and mask. As the moment between you two comes to an end, and the soldier persona kicks in. He grins beneath the mask. It's the only thing he can manage as Ghost, otherwise Simon might pop out.
"I love you," he whispers, his voice muffled by the mask. It's a quick and silent whisper, his words meant for you and you alone.
You know he is no longer your Simon, right now he is Ghost. "I love you too." You whisper, as you use the back of your hand to wipe away the red lipstick on your lips, you know he hates it when you stain his mask.
You have to stand on your toes as he stands up, but you take his face in your hands and pressed a kiss on his mask. "Please keep my Simon safe and bring him back." You whispered, before you let him go. The mask doesn't conceal the softness of his smile. It's a smile only you will get to see. But right now it is hidden under the mask.
"I will return to you." Simon promises, "I will definitely return to you. But I also need you to promise me something."
His fingers press softly against your chin, turning you to face him once more.
"You must take care of yourself and wait for me no matter what. So please do that for me." Your eyes meet again and you do the smiling for the both of you.
"I'll always wait for you." You whisper. "I'll take care of myself and I wait for you."
"Please do. Please, please do. I don't want to return to an empty home. And I also don't want to return and see you having gone crazy. Please, don't worry yourself too much." There's a certain intensity to his whispers.
"Promise me you'll wait and take care of yourself. Promise me, don't make me beg."
It is unlike him to be so persistent about this, but you’re not complaining, it is nice to see this softer side of him while he is all masked up.
“I promise.” You say, holding your hand over your heart. “I promise you won’t come home to an empty house, and I promise you I won’t go crazy.”
It was all he needed to hear, and he squeezes your behind before he takes your hand. Three squeezes before he turns around to leave.
“I’ll wait!” You yell as you watch him leave your shared quarters. “I will wait for you too!” He yells back, before he disappears.
And you did, you did exactly that. Exactly like you had promised, you took care of yourself and you didn’t go crazy.
You didn’t go crazy but you mourned him, you missed him, cried about him, you cursed yourself for washing your stained cheek, for washing away the lipstick on your hand.
You wish you held him for a little longer.
It wasn’t fair, two lives ended when he didn’t return, when you received his cracked mask instead of your lover. But you waited, just like you promised. Unable to love another man again.
And now you can feel your own life slip away, you’re getting cold, you’re getting scared, and you wonder is he felt the same when he met his cruel fate with dead. The thought alone breaks your heart. Your vision is starting to get blurry and you are ready to accept your fate.
“You kept your promise.” You hear his familiar voice. “And I waited for you too.”
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stvharrngton · 9 months
Text
a lesson in romantics; lesson ten
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summary: a multi-part series where reader is the new art teacher at hawkins high and the history teacher, mr. harrington, takes a shine to the new girl. mutual pining ensues on their road to love 🥀
a/n: aaaand that’s a wrap! (sort of 👀) i just want to say a quick thank you to everyone who has read or reblogged or commented anything on this series. it’s been something totally out of my comfort zone compared to what i usually write lol and it’s been hard sometimes to want to stick with it but i have done (somehow!!) 🥺 but stick around for the alternative ending coming soon 👀😮‍💨
characters: steve harrington x fem!reader, robin buckley
word count: 1.4k
warnings: none, fluff, happy ending
taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose
series taglist: @pbs-theundeadmaggot @alana4610 @onceuponaoneshot
SERIES MASTERLIST
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HAWKINS HIGH, MAY 1993
The school year had soon run its course and was coming to the end, the summer break right around the corner but not before the big end of year senior prom. It had been a big year for you, with its ups and its downs, but you were looking forward to your first summer in Hawkins, you couldn’t lie.
You had your dress picked out, something simple yet formal enough to chaperone at a high school prom. It was a long and a deep red, with capped sleeves at the shoulders, the fitted material fitting you perfectly. Every time you caught a glance of it hung up in your wardrobe, your mind would drift to seeing Steve in a tux for the first time.
It was silly really. You felt like you were getting ready for your own senior prom, rather than one at a school where you taught at.
The evening soon rolled around and you were sat on your couch, patiently waiting for your ride to pick you up. Your car was in the shop, much to your dismay, your knight in shining armour had saved the day.
The knock soon came at your apartment door, the man standing behind it wore a suit with a simple black bow tie, his hair perfectly tousled, wire frame glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and his mouth hanging open for way, way too long.
“Wow,” he breathed, “you look—,”
“Is it too much?” you blurted out, feeling a tad overdressed as you made your way to the passenger side of the car. Steve held your hand as you lowered yourself into the cream leather seat.
“No, God, no,” he insisted, leaning down with you so you could see the bashful smile on his face, “it’s perfect, I promise, you look perfect.”
~
The prom was in full swing, students dolled up and suited and booted dotted across the school gym as the music blared and the lights strobed. The teachers were spread across different corners of the gym, hands stuffed in pockets or nursing a red solo cup filled with punch, on-looking the students on the dancefloor.
Robin sauntered over to Steve, slinging her suited arm over his shoulder, coming in close before she spoke.
“You all set for tonight? Big plan still in action?” Robin joked, her hand patting Steve’s shoulder as she spoke.
He rolled his eyes as he pushed the frames of his glasses back up his nose, “Please don’t call it a ‘big plan’, it makes it sound like some kind of scheme, Robin.”
“Whatever,” she scoffed, taking a sip from her cup, “I’d wish you good luck, Steve but I don’t think you’ll need it. Not from the way she’s been trying to sneak a glance at you everytime she thinks you’re not looking all night.” Robin said all cocky as she nodded over to where you were standing.
Steve tried not to let that linger in his mind too much, tried not to think about how he was doing the exact same thing to you all night. Teachers and students kept you away from him with their short conversations and jokes but Steve was damned if he was going to let that from carrying out his plan tonight.
As it got a little later, a little quieter, Steve finally found a minute to sneak up behind you, his large hand hovering over your back as he leaned in to ask, ‘You wanna get out of here?’
You snorted at the question and the implication of it, “You don’t wanna see who gets crowned Prom King and Queen, Mr. H?” you said with a smirk, raising one of your eyebrows.
“Not really my scene,” Steve said casually, “come on, there’s a great little diner just outside of town that does the best milkshakes. You’re telling me that doesn’t sound amazing right now?”
You couldn’t lie, that did sound amazing and so that’s how you found yourself sat on the hood of the burgundy BMW, strawberry milkshake in hand as the neon diner sign blinked in the dark sky. Steve’s dinner jacket thrown around your shoulders as the cool spring air nipped at your skin.
The space between you was silent, but a comfortable silence. The only sound around was the occasional car driving past and the hum of the radio of Steve’s car. It wasn’t until the next song ticked over that Steve made his first move,
Friday I’m in Love by The Cure began to flow throughout the speakers and out through the windows as Steve held his hand out to you, a coy smile on his face as he asked, “Dance with me?”
You placed your hand in his and you couldn’t help the heat that crept up your cheeks. He pulled you close, his hands held you at your waist whilst you tentatively slung yours over his broad shoulders. He swayed you back and forth in the diner parking lot, not giving a single damn about the funny looks you might be getting.
You giggled at the situation you found yourself in and Steve’s ears immediately pricked up at the sound, “What’s so funny?” he asked, voice quiet like he was afraid to disturb the peaceful moment between you.
“Oh, nothing,” you insisted, your mascara covered lashes fluttering against your cheeks, “I’ve just never slow danced to The Cure before and definitely never in a parking lot, either.”
“First time for everything,” Steve said so casually, so coolly, “and hey, it’s a good song!” He took your one hand in his now, as he span you around and back in again singing along to the words of Robert Smith.
Your hand hit Steve’s firm chest as he span you around again as he sang the words, “It’s Friday, I’m in love.” He couldn’t help but grin at you but you could only hide your bashful smile in Steve’s shoulder.
“Come on,” he cooed, “don’t get all shy on me now.” Steve dropped your hand now but let his long fingers tuck themselves under your chin so he could bring your gaze back to him.
You blinked up at him, all bright eyed and hopeful as if Steve’s eyes held all the answers. You whispered out a ‘sorry’ and you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall to his pretty pink lips.
“Can I try something?” He asked, voice as smooth as velvet. The way his fingers moved from your chin to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, how they lingered by your neck before they finally cupped your cheek, it told you that just maybe, you may be on the same page.
And so you nodded, laying your hands flat on his chest, waiting for what was coming. Your lashes fluttered as your eyes closed as Steve leaned in, his warm breath tickling your lips as he brushed them against your own.
The kiss was everything you ever could have dreamed of. Soft and sweet as the butterflies churned in your stomach, the metaphorical sparks igniting as Steve pulled you in closer with every second that went by. You felt as giddy as a teenager that was experiencing her first kiss, like it was your first date with your high school sweetheart, like it was your own senior prom.
Steve made you breathless and your knees weak. It was like all the feelings you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t have came bubbling back up to the surface, pouring out through your kiss. Nothing else mattered right now, except for you and Steve, standing in the middle of the diner parking lot.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for,” Steve breathed against your lips when you finally managed to pull yourself away from him long enough, “it’s been driving me crazy.”
You grinned before your bottom lip found its way between your teeth, your brain doing its best to muster up a quip in reply. Especially when all you could think about was how badly you wanted to kiss Steve again.
“Is that so?” you teased, fingers drawing circles over the material of Steve’s shirt, you could see the blush creeping on his cheeks underneath the neon lights, “well there’s more where that came from if you agree to take me out on a date. What do you say, Mr. H?”
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7-wonders · 2 years
Note
Idk if you're taking requests rn (if not I'm sorry for bothering you 😭) but I just had an idea based off of a post you made about Dream not being able to take his hands off of you when doing mundane human things. So what if...
The reader had just come back from going shopping that day and she arrives to Dream patiently waiting for her at her house. She tells him she went shopping and he feels intrigued to see what she has bought so she does a small fashion show for him to show off what she got herself (she has no shame just changing in front of him which keeps his full attention on how she slides the material over her body) and one of the things he noticed in her bags was a full piece lingerie that she was actually gonna use as a top but he gets other ideas and suggests she try it on for him too. 🤭 needless to say it ends in some needy smut
(Again I am sorry if you aren't taking requests, but thank you for reading mine at least 💕)
Shopping Spree
Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x Reader
(I don't really like writing smut and also I'm not good at it, so...use your imaginations at the end! Thank you for reading!)
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The sun is already setting by the time that you make it home, laden with a couple of shopping bags and your wallet feeling just a bit too light for your liking. It was worth it, though, for the day spent with your friends and the self-care, both much needed. Shifting the bags around on your arms, you awkwardly fumble with your keys until you’re finally able to unlock your front door and swing it open so that you can slip inside.
When your eyes land on a figure sitting on your couch, silhouetted by the last rays of daylight, your heart skips a beat as you jump back. It’s only when the figure stands up and the shadows seem to morph around them that you realize it’s your beloved Dreamlord. How long he’s just been sitting in your unoccupied living room, you can’t say. Hopefully not long, but with him, you never know.
“Morpheus!” you greet cheerfully, excited to see him. “Did I forget about plans that we made?”
“No, I simply finished my tasks sooner than expected and thought that I would come to see you.”
You go to accept a kiss from him, after which Morpheus disdainfully glances down at the bags getting in the way of fully being able to hold you. 
“What do you have?”
“Oh, some friends wanted to hang out, so we went shopping. I got some new clothes.”
He looks intrigued and a little confused, like he didn’t know that people actually bought clothes instead of just creating them from dreamstuff. From this observation, an idea begins to form.
“Do you…I can try on some of the stuff that I bought, if you want. Do a little fashion show?”
You don’t think that Morpheus has ever had somebody do a fashion show for him, and the idea obviously intrigues him (likely because he doesn't really know what a fashion show is). He nods after a moment of consideration, and you clap your hands together in excitement.
“Okay, sit down.”
Ushering him back to where he was sitting on the couch, you wait patiently until he's seated before you drag the bags over to you and begin to search through them. It was a true shopping day, including picking up a few household necessities that you were either out of or running low on, and you have to search for a bit before you find an article of clothing. Once your hand closes around the fabric, you pull it out of the bag and begin to change outfits.
You feel a little shy as you take off the clothes that you’re currently wearing without bothering to go into another room. You're not shy about your body in this situation—after all, Morpheus has seen plenty of it, and constantly makes you feel like you’re something divine. No, it’s just awkward to change in front of anybody; you feel like you need to change as fast as possible, lest they grow bored or annoyed with you. There were more than a few occasions when you were younger where you ended up falling on the floor of the dressing room because you were trying to put jeans on too fast so that you could show your mom (oh, the horror) and she didn't have to wait too long.
After fixing the straps on your shoulders, you finally get the first outfit on. Holding your arms out, you spin in a slow circle to show off your dress, purple with lighter gradient accents. “First, I got this pretty little sundress. I like the way it flows when I move."
"It's a beautiful dress," Morpheus notes, "made even more beautiful on you."
Both the compliment and the way that he looks at you, intently and as though you're the most important thing in the world, makes you giggle nervously. "Thanks. It has pockets!"
You shove your hands in said pockets to demonstrate, and he smiles fondly. "There are many dreamers with wishful dreams of dresses with pockets."
"Considering it's still somehow super difficult to find dresses with pockets, I believe it."
Diving back through the bags again, you grab the first item that you can get your hand on and pull it out. After looking at it to check what it is (listen, the day was a whirlwind, alright?), you hold the small packaging out towards Morpheus.
"I got these earrings."
"They're stars," Morpheus notes.
"Yeah. They, uh," you flush before mumbling, "they reminded me of your eyes in the Dreaming."
Morpheus, of course, hears you loud and clear, and sports a satisfied smirk on his face at the confession.
Next, you pull a shirt out of a bag and slide your jeans back on so that you can model this purchase for him. The entire time, you can feel Morpheus's eyes tracking each small movement that you make. The way that you hop a bit to get your jeans up onto your hips, how you stretch when you lift your arms up to slide the shirt on, your fingers when you tug the shirt down over your torso. It makes you feel bared, but in the best of ways, because you're completely known and understood by the one you're bared for.
Morpheus nods in encouragement when you turn around to show him your shirt. "Very nice."
And so the routine continues. This is honestly more fun than you thought it would be. You've never had a romantic partner that you could show off to, and it's quite the confidence booster to listen to said partner compliment you while you have his undivided attention.
You pull out an item you're still back and forth on while you're trying to find the last shirt that you bought, and you move it to the side since you're still not sure whether you're going to keep it. Since it's lacy and black however, it immediately gets Morpheus’s attention.
“And…that?” he asks, sitting forward on your couch.
“Okay, I know it seems a little out of place, but hear me out," you begin to explain. "I saw this on Instagram, where the girl was wearing a lace bodysuit just like this under a pair of jeans and a blazer, and she looked amazing. I figured I’d try it out, but I’m keeping the tags on just in case it looks terrible and I need to return it.”
Holding it out in front of you, you can tell that the vision you had for this particular piece is completely lost on Morpheus. After all, how can he think about anything but how the lingerie bodysuit will look on you? Why would he want you to cover that gift up with unnecessary clothing?
“Are you not going to try it on for me as well?” Morpheus asks, so terrible at feigning nonchalance that you'd laugh if it weren't for the way that he swallows harshly after he speaks.
"I mean, I can. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to try such an experimental look while you're here."
You're being purposely obtuse now, teasing him innocently enough that he's not going to catch on.
"I'll show you without the other pieces first, and then you can help me decide if the outfit works."
"Go on, then," Morpheus says, practically shooing you off.
You duck into the bedroom with lingerie in hand, feeling a little nervous about changing into this in front of Morpheus. After you get it on, you give yourself a quick once-over in the mirror and try not to focus on all of your perceived imperfections. No, you're sexy, you're a temptress, you're trying to seduce your eldritch nightmare king! Seductresses are confident, you remind yourself, running a hand through your hair to try and make it look artfully messy before you turn on your heel and re-enter the living room.
It's almost impossible to look effortless as you lean a hip against the doorframe and try to pose for Morpheus, but you try. Apparently, based off of how still he's gone and the way that his lips are parted and just slightly trembling as he sucks in air he doesn't need, you've succeeded.
"So, here's the bodysuit without anything over it."
"Are you not going to spin in this one, too?" His voice comes out hoarsely, and you internally cheer.
"I can!"
You spin around extra slowly, making sure that Morpheus fully takes in what you're wearing.
"I'll go put on the rest of the outfit, then," you say when you're done.
"No." Morpheus's voice stops you from moving.
"No?"
He stands and stalks slowly towards you, making you gulp in nervous excitement. When he's standing right in front of you, he puts his hands on your waist and pulls you flush against him. You gasp, your hands flying up to his chest, and he assures you, "I quite like it just like this."
"You do, huh?"
Morpheus begins to place soft kisses on your face, everywhere except for your lips. "In fact, this might just be my favorite of your purchases from today."
"So...you think I should keep it?" you ask, your head starting to feel a little dizzy as you fight to keep your composure.
"Indeed." His fingers, which had been tracing along the lace, grab at the tags that you had left on before ripping them off smoothly. "However, I do have an idea of where it would look best."
Your voice trembles. "And where's that?"
Finally, he meets your lips to actually kiss you. "Your bedroom floor."
With that, Morpheus picks you up to take you to bed and prove that he's absolutely right.
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michelleleewise · 2 years
Text
The Proposal
Pairing: Sugardaddy Loki x female reader
Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, knives, blood, violence (yes I added it twice to he sure), duct tape, forced restraints, torture, Amber being a whole warning....(I tried not to go too overboard, but this girl crazy)
*** please read the warnings for this one!!! Amber has gone full tilt crazy. I don't want to upset anyone so please please be cautious!!!
Summary: you wake up not knowing where you are, and try to piece everything together....
Part Seventeen-
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You slowly opened your eyes, looking up you could barely make anything out when the lights flipped on making you flinch. "Ah, your finally awake, I may have added too much." You heard Amber laughing. You tried to turn realizing you couldn't move. You looked down seeing duct tape wrapped around your stomach and legs, your arms held down to your sides. You frantically looked around at the decrepit building trying to process what was happening as Amber stepped in front of you.
"To think he chose you over me." She said looking down at you. You tried to say something realizing she had taped your mouth as well. "You aren't going anywhere so stop trying." She said walking over to a table picking up your phone and a knife. "Now, down to business." She said striding back over. "Im gonna need to know your password." She said ripping the tape off of your mouth making you scream. "Help! Someone help me!" You screamed when Amber punched your nose hard whipping your head to the side. "Shut up will you, no one can hear you. There's no one for miles." She smiled leaning down "password...now." she growled.
You gave her the password tasting the blood running from your nose watching her go through your phone. "Aaww, he's worried about you.....how sweet." She said through gritted teeth as she typed something before putting it in her pocket. "Now, where were we....oh yes...." She said taking the knife pressing it to your cheek "I must admit you are kinda pretty, but let's see if he still wants you when I'm done...." She smiled, pressing the knife into your skin making you scream. She repeated it onto the other cheek and your forehead as you tried to pull your head away. She tossed the knife aside happy with her work laughing menacingly.
"Your fucking crazy!" You yelled trying to free yourself "am i...AM I!?" She yelled picking up a crowbar from the table. "All I did was love him, AND HE LEFT ME!" She yelled slowly walking over to you. "And then you came along and ruined everything!" She yelled again pressing the crowbar into your chest. "You took him from me, and I'm taking back what's mine." She smiled lifting the bar up. You closed your eyes bracing yourself for what was about to happen as she brought it down hard on the side of your knee making you scream. "Do you think he'll come for you?" She asked swinging again "fuck!" You screamed feeling lightheaded "do you really belive he CARES about you?" She said hitting your kneecap hearing a crunch.
Tears streamed down your face as your whole body shook, the pain overwhelming you. "You...mean...nothing...to...him." She growled raising the bar above her head "p...please....s...stop." you tried, your voice weak from the screaming. "I won't stop until he's mine again" She said smiling bringing the bar down on top of your knee. Pain shot through your leg as you blacked out......
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"Don't worry baby, I'm fine."....Loki reread the message over and over...something wasn't right, you never called him "baby". He thought for a moment before deciding to respond "darling, what was your favorite color again? I wanted to pick something up for you" He typed, patiently waiting for you to respond. He needed to know what was going on. When he saw the bubbles pop up showing you were typing he leaned forward staring at the screen "you know what my favorite color is silly." You typed. He sighed trying again "I just want to make sure, now what was it? He typed tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Your so forgetful sometimes....blue." you typed as he gripped the phone.
He looked at the clock seeing you should be home from school by now and jumped up grabbing his coat. He stormed out if his room heading for the elevator "brother, where are you off to in such a hurry?" Thor asked as Loki pushed the button for the elevator. "Something is wrong with her, I need to go over there." He said looking at the doors. "Is she hurt?" Thor asked coming up next to him. "I do not know, her messages don't make sense." He said looking at Thor. "Call me if you need me." Thor said gripping Loki's shoulder. "Thank you brother." Loki said stepping into the elevator. He hoped you were just messing around but he had a feeling things were not as they seemed.
Loki walked into your darkened apartment looking around "y/n, where are you?" He called recieving only silence. He switched on the lights seeing everything looked normal, nothing was out of place. He walked into the bedroom "Darling, are you..." he started seeing the bed was made but your closet looked like a bomb went off. He slowly walked in seeing all of your clothes strewn across the floor like you were searching for something. The bad feeling began nagging him again so he pulled his phone out messaging you. "darling,, where are you." He typed waiting for you to respond. He walked into the bathroom seeing everything in order there as well.
He jumped slightly when his phone went off, quickly pulling it out "Hey, I was in bed sleeping. Where are you?" He read. He felt the color leave his face knowing you were no where to be found. He swallowed hard typing back "I'm coming over, I need to see you." He was hoping whoever this was would give themselves away somehow. "I'm too tired, maybe tomorrow. Night baby." He read. "No no no.." he said quickly dialing your number hoping it was your voice on the other end and you were just upset with him. He held the phone to his ear listening as the call went straight to voicemail "fuck!" He yelled. He hung up quickly dialing Thor. "Loki, is everything alright?" Thor asked when Loki felt a lump in his throat. Looking down at his feet "she's...she isn't here Thor, I don't know where she is or whats happened." Loki said shakely feeling his eyes burn. "Tell me where you are, I'll be right there." Thor said. He told him the address before hanging up, waiting for his brother to get there....
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"God, He's gotten persistent." You vaguely heard Amber say from behind you. You slowly lifted your head, trying to block out the pain and failing miserably as she walked into view. You shook your head making sure you weren't seeing things as she turned around. She had cut her hair to your length, as well as coloring it the same color as yours. You looked down seeing her wearing your clothes, though they were a bit tight on her. "W...what...", you trailed off trying to focus when she started laughing again "Well, whatya think?" She asked holding her arms out. "I think your fucking insane." You snarked feeling her fist meet your nose again making your eyes water.
"Shut up you stupid bitch." She growled stalking away. "Loki and I will live happily ever after...and you'll die here alone like you deserve." She said wiping her hand on a cloth. "W..why are you...doing this? I was n..nice to you." You said tilting your head up to look at her "because you took him!" She yelled crossing her arms "h..he already left you...before he m..met me." You said shakely fighting back tears. "Well see, here's the thing. If he didn't want me, and he wants you..what better way to win him back then to become...you." She smiled smoothing down the front of her...your shirt. You screwed your eyes shut feeling the pain radiating through you "he's going to know....h..he will find me." You breathed leaning your head forward. "Oh...he may find you....but in what state?" She asked walking over grabbing your hair pulling your head back.
"Who would want you now hm?" She asked. "No one will ever want you again y/n." She smiled letting go of your hair. "If you know whats good for you you'll hurry up and die." She snarked walking behind you. You were about to say something when she shut the lights off, leaving you in total darkness "night y/n, pleasant dreams" She called out slamming the door. You tried to breath, feeling the tears streaming down your face, landing in your cuts making you hiss. "L..loki....please....." you said shakely trying to stop shaking, but the more you tried the worse it got.
Your chest heaved as you sobbed, leaning your head forward to keep the tears off your face. "P..please...find me..." you cried. But you had no idea where you were and no way to release yourself, even if you did you were pretty sure your kneecap was shattered. You opened your eyes, looking up into the one window you saw, seeing the moon shining in "i..I love you Loki." You whispered. leaning your head forward feeling yourself drift off, hoping he would come to you in your dreams......
💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚
@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @sinsandguilt @high-functioning-lokipath @mochie85 @slytherclaw1227 @jaidenhawke @budugu @xorpsbane @schizonephilim @lokidokieokie @holdmytesseract @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokixryss @asgardianprincess1050 @tallseaweed @aniar4wniak @sekaishell @lokispetblogs @loopsisloops @trojanaurora @lonadane @all-envy-suyu @yelkmelk @stupidthoughtsinwriting @123forgottherest @silverfire475 @bbmommy0902 @goblingirlsarah @commanding-officer @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @mcufan72 @glitterylokislut @tjellisworld @kkdvkyya @cueloki @daggers-and-mischief @sititran @witchyblue @verycollectivecreator @nixymarvelkins @chantsdemarins @shinraski @usagishira @nightshadelm @filthyhiddles @dukes2581 @assemblingavenger @huntress-artemiss @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12
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captainsophiestark · 2 years
Text
The Vastness of the Universe
Damon Salvatore x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2022!
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Prompt: “That’s not why we’re doing this!”
Summary: Y/N drags Damon, their boyfriend, out to the middle of a field in the dead of the night to watch a meteor shower. Normally not his cup of tea, but he'd do absolutely anything for the love of his life.
Word Count: 1,034
Category: Fluff
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"How much further are we supposed to hike into this field, Y/N?" whined Damon, my boyfriend, from a few steps behind me. I just grinned and kept walking, undeterred.
"Not much further! In fact, I'm happy to declare the perfect spot is riiiiight... here."
I stopped triumphantly, hands on my hips, and whirled to face my boyfriend. He had our late-night picnic basket and blanket with him, and he looked unimpressed.
"And how is this different than any other spot in this massive field?"
"Because! It just is."
He rolled his eyes, but I just smiled as I took the blanket from him and laid it out on the ground. It was dark, but the moon provided enough light that we didn't need a flashlight.
"Come on and help me get set up, we don't want to miss any of the meteor shower."
Damon sighed, but came to help me nonetheless. We laid out all the snacks we'd brought, and I dipped into a few while we worked, then finally, our setup was perfect. Damon and I laid all the way back together on the blanket, my head resting on his arm laid out behind me as we stared up at the stars together.
"You know, if you'd wanted to get me alone in the middle of nowhere to make out on a blanket, you could've just asked," he teased. I whacked his chest, and he groaned like it'd hurt, but given that I was a human and he was a vampire, I felt pretty confident it hadn't.
"That's not why we're doing this! And you know it, so cool it."
Damon just laughed and wrapped his arm around me a little more tightly. He loved being able to make me flustered, and unfortunately for me, he was also pretty good at it.
I sighed and settled in a little, the last of the tension relaxing out of my body as I looked up at the stars. They were absolutely beautiful, and with the cool night air mixed with the warmth of my boyfriend laying next to me, I couldn't have asked for a more perfectly peaceful night.
Finally, after a few more minutes of waiting patiently, I caught sight of the first shooting star. I gasped, my hand shooting up to point at it.
"Look! Damon, there it is!"
"I see it. There's another one, look."
He pointed too as another star streaked across the sky, then another and another. The meteor shower was officially in full swing, and it was stunning.
I stared up at the night sky in wonder, my eyes tracing the bright balls of light as they raced across the darkness of space. Taking in that sight, I felt so small in my place in the world. But in a good way. The universe was so wide and wonderful, it was stunning to lay here and think about it.
Damon and I stayed like that, cuddled up and eyes on the stars as the meteor shower continued. As the meteors streaked across the sky in droves, however, I started to feel like I was being watched. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Damon's stare fixed on me instead of the wondrous sight above us.
I turned my head to face him, almost knocking our foreheads together as I did. I frowned as he continued to stare at me, paying absolutely no attention to the wonder of nature happening above us.
"Damon, what are you staring at?" I asked.
"You," he said simply. I shook my head and laughed a little.
"Well no kidding. But come on, you're missing the shower!"
I turned to look back at the sky, but Damon's gaze didn't budge as he mumbled his response.
"I'm not missing anything."
I looked back at him again, meeting his piercing blue eyes. His expression was completely open, which was actually pretty rare for him, and I could see the love radiating off of him as he continued to stare at me.
"Damon..."
"You're the love of my life, Y/N," he said. "I don't need to look up at the stars and make a wish, because I already got mine. You. Here, with me. You're my shooting star."
I smiled and wrapped one arm around Damon's waist, rolling over to lay on his chest a bit more as I did. I leaned down to plant a soft kiss on his lips, and his arms tightened around me in response.
"I love you, Damon Salvatore. You're my wish come true, too."
Damon pulled me closer to him, kissing me hard before flipping us over on the blanket so he hovered above me. He didn't show it, since he wasn't usually the most open about his feelings, but I could tell my words meant the world to him.
We stayed like that for a few more moments, until Damon made himself pull away. I could tell it was the last thing he wanted to do, but he put our foreheads together and closed his eyes as he spoke.
"All I want to do right now is finish what we started on this blanket," he said. "But you dragged me out here to watch the stars, so it can wait until we get home."
I smiled at him and leaned up to give him one last quick kiss before he rolled over again, pulling me into his side and positioning us so we could both watch the stars. I could hear his heartbeat in his chest as we lay there together, the two of us, alone in the vastness of the universe. When I'd first found out about vampires and the like in Mystic Falls, it had felt like a lot more trouble than it was worth. And in some ways, that was still true. But Damon, and the other friendships I'd made, had slowly started to balance out all the bad things.
Wishes on shooting stars often didn't come true, so if my wish came with a few supernatrual caveats, I was perfectly happy to deal with them.
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pumpkinfreak · 9 months
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Watching Hannibal for the first time Ep 8-11
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Episode 8. I need MatPat to figure out if you could turn a person into a cello. THAT IS THE FILM THEORY I WANT! Anyway, Franklin comes back in this episode. Another fun fact, I work in dentistry, and I did not know Catgut was real animal innards. My instructors left that little tidbit out. I love that Hannibal is offered friendship by Franklin, his little fanboy patient. Lecter is so annoyed by it, he just could not care less. Then Tobias, who is also a deadly psychopath, Hannibal seems just as bothered. It's great. Tobias swinging around that wire tool thing, looked a little silly. It was giving weeb kid busting out their special attack. I did appreciate men in suits beating the Hell out of each other. Also Will and Alana kiss, it's whatever, I feel no chemistry between them.
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Episode 9
Abigail finally comes back, she's haunted by the man she killed and is going to write a book about the murders with Freddie. We learn that Freddie is a smug vegetarian. I just know this woman fat-shames people. She eats half a cutie orange and just gushes about how full she is. I'll fight this woman in a parking lot. Also, Abigail did help father capture girls for him to kill. I won't lie I lost a lot of sympathy for Abigail. However, It makes sense that Hannibal would be so interested in her. I think he sees Abigail and Will as kindred spirits, in his own way. Yet, he still views them as things to be played with.
Human totem poll. It was such a good design. The skulls are the corners.
Episode 10
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Skin just slipping off the body. It got me. It's the little things that get me. Just slid off her like a rubber glove.
Hannibal has an interesting way of treating his friends. I think lying to Will about his encephalitis, is an attempt on his part to keep him close. He wants will, but I don't think Hannibal is capable of seeing other humans as, well people. I think he views them more like animals, something he can control.
Every time Will has an episode he runs to Hannibal. So it is working, if Will was well, he might spend less time with him. Hannibal's own psychiatrist mentions that he needs someone who deserves his friendship. I think this may be a way for him to test Will.
Bisected head. I cannot praise the SFX makeup enough.
Episode 10
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This might be my favorite episode of the season. Being awake during your own dissection, grizzly. The tongues pulled through the slit necks. Simple, and very effective. I like seeing Freddie have that smug grin wiped off her face. I was bothered that Alana was put into protective custody, but Chilton was not. Like, he was the guy who messed with the serial killer, of course, he was going to get got.
They seemed so surprised, y'all are FBI agents pull it together.
Hugh Darcy does a great job, acting like someone on the brink. Another fun fact, they often use baby oil to make actors look sweaty. Hugh was probably swimming in the stuff.
Three more episodes. That I will post about later, and give my feelings on the first season as a whole.
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