#i will defend this man until i take my last damn breath | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ynbabe · 5 months

Note

LOGAN FIC REQ!! (i love your messages au smmm btw THEYRE SO GOOD AHH) ok anywayssss

can you pls do logan x super super famous!reader.(preferably an actress but i don't mind any) so both of them are dating but are trying to keep it a secret since they've only been dating for a short amount of time. one night they decide to go on a date but paparazzi was there and it was going VIRAL. reader regrets not double checking if there would be any paps. sooo then everyone starts investigating on logan as the internet does and since everyone doesn't watch f1, they only see logan crashing and blah blah blah so they see him as a "bad driver" and he starts getting A LOT of hate because people think reader deserves better. they also start comparing him to reader's "more better and famous ex". reader and logan take time off social media and people think they broke up until reader releases an instagram post defending him and yeah a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort.

idk if this made sense but pls feel free to change anything!! again i love your work sm 💕‼️

Hiiii, omg thank you so much! Love love LOVE the fic idea and without any further ado- here's the fic, it isn't exactly as the prompt but I hope you love it-

Keep my wife's name OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x famous! reader

As a celebrity, you don’t often have the privilege of privacy. The cameras seemed to follow you everywhere, from outside your house to the restaurants you ate at and even to private celebrations with your friends and family.

Your last relationship had gone south exactly because of the paparazzi, making assumptions about the seriousness of your relationship and even spreading pregnancy and marriage rumours, scaring the man away.

You had wanted to take it slow, heart broken from your previous relationship but then you met Logan and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breath, like you could do what you wanted without being judged.

You knew who he was and he knew who you were and that was perfect.

The both of you had spent a perfect week in your villa in Bali, it had been risky but no one caught on, surprisingly.

You thought your luck would continue and you threw causation to the wind, not asking your assistant to check for paparazzi at the sushi restaurant you were going to in Shanghai.

Unfortunately, you were caught just as you were leaving the restaurants waking up to a host of notifications, some good and some gut-wrenching.

Logan on the other hand tried not to throw up, his eyes wide, you could tell he was scared. Would his team drop him? No, no. Why would they? Right? Oh God.

"Logan, Logs, baby are you okay?" You called out, dropping to your knees and cradling his face in your palms.

f1waglife

f1waglife Y/n nation how are we feeling tonight? Logang? How are we? This was definitely not the couple we expected but is this the couple we deserve?

Username OH HELL NAW- WHY IS THIS FLORIDA MAN DATING QUEEN Y/N?????

Username Y/n come home the kids miss you

Username Omg mans is in love

Username Get someone to look at you the way Logan looks at Y/n

You saw some of the comments and while some made you smile, some made you want to slap a bitch, unfortunately, a scandal would not help, so you called up your PR manager, and the post was gone within a minute.

Logan's race had gone sour, with him getting an unfair penalty and points on his licence. The already poor start to your day had turned even worse when you saw Logan tiredly storm into the room collapsing on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.

"What... the..... fuck?" He screamed into the pillow making you smile a little. The small habit he'd picked up from you, screaming into the pillows as a way to think, one that you had picked up from one of the characters you played a long time ago.

"Why do people even care about who's dating who? That's so stupid." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't we binge Keeping Up with the Kardashians every Monday?" You asked.

"That's not the same though-" He paused and switched his phone off, he already didn't have access to his own Instagram, having given access to his manager a long time ago, he now didn't even want to talk to his friends or colleagues many of whom just wanted an autograph from you along with an explanation how he could be with you.

He turned around, pulling the blanket on him, tired from the day.

You pulled up Twitter as a habit but were greeted with a terrible chain of tweets judging every aspect of your relationship and even worse criticizing Logan without even knowing anything about the sport.

"What the fuck-" You cursed out loud, you knew your fanbase was slightly (an underestimation) larger than your boyfriends but how could they call themselves your fans, when you have been a fan of Logan's since his first season in f1? All your co-stars American or not knew your borderline obsession for the man, every race week you'd be posting Williams on your story, how could they still hate on him?

You looked next to you, where your boyfriend was sleeping a small scowl on his pretty face.

PR be damned, he didn't deserve this.

y/nl/nofficial

y/nl/nofficial To anyone who calls themselves my fans and talks shit about my lovely boyfriend, UNFOLLOW ME ASAP. Logan is the kindest, sweetest, most talented man I've had the pleasure to know and he deserves better than the bullshit he gets from some assholes who don't know anything about him. To quote my friend Will: KEEP MY WIFES NAME OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS-

username oop sis snapped

username you tell em girl

username LOVE a gf whos rabidly in love with her bf

username now why would y'all try and shame Mother's boyfriend when all she does is post about him for race weekends??

username fr shes been a logan fan before logan fans have been logan fans

Williams We stan a protective gf 😮‍💨

username admin you'll always be famous y/nl/nofficial Cant help it he looks really pretty in blue 🥰 username oh she in love love

username shall we start calling him Father?

The way I was struggling to write this fic cause I had to write bad things about Pookie Bear Logie is insane. But- I hope yall like it, please do let me know in the comments or reblogs!!!

#f1 #formula 1 #logan sargeant #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent #anon ask #thank you anon #f1 social media au #f1 smau

471 notes · View notes

theemporium · 1 year

Note

Max ready to destroy the earth if someone so much as disrespects or pisses Trouble off

it’s low-key giving will smith🤠anyways thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

Max was always very blunt and honest in conferences and interviews, it was just the way he was.

And it wasn’t uncommon for him to defend himself and his friends in said interviews. He did it countless times when journalists tried to push stories about him being too aggressive, too angry, too competitive on track.

He did it countless times when they would come for Charles and blame he was taking for his team’s mistakes. He did it countless times when people questioned Daniel’s performance and his right to have the Red Bull seat. He did it countless times when they tried to drag Lando for not achieving highly when McLaren weren’t giving him the car he needed to be proving he could do as much.

And he would be damned if he didn’t do it for you too.

It was after a race. He was tired, exhausted even, and all he wanted to do was wrap up the rest of his duties so he could maybe sneak a nap in with you before you both joined the rest of the team for a night out to celebrate his win.

He was approaching the last interviewers, a name he vaguely recognised and his nose scrunched up when he remembered most of the man’s questions were tasteless and dry. But he shrugged it off, keeping a passive face as he approached the journalist with his PR manager lingering behind him with a tape recorder in hand.

“Max Verstappen, how does it feel to be a winner again?”

He gave the man a tight-lipped smile and hoped it was enough to hide his exhaustion as he continued the interview.

And it was going fine, in retrospect. The man’s questions were similar to the countless ones he had been asked before. But he couldn’t complain because they were easy to answer, and easy to mostly zone out until he knew he had to answer.

Until he asked something that caught Max’s attention right away.

“Any plans to celebrate with your side piece after your race win? Maybe get her on her knees?”

Max blinked, and for a short moment he wondered if he just completely mistranslated what the man said.

“What?”

But the man repeated the question again, a slimy smirk on his face and your name was rolling off his tongue. And truthfully, Max didn’t even remember moving or reacting or even breathing in that moment.

One second the man was holding a microphone to his face, awaiting his answer. And the next, he was on the floor as he clutched his bloody nose and screamed Bloody Mary.

He was vaguely aware of other drivers and journalists and PR managers looking over, trying to understand the scene in front of them. He was vaguely aware of security being called and someone mentioning Christian or Helmut. He was vaguely aware of someone trying to tug him back, but he just shrugged them off.

“She’s my girlfriend, you moronic dickhead,” Max spat at the crying journalist. “Put some fucking respect on her name.”

“Alright, let’s go before you break any more noses,” he heard Daniel mutter behind him, and this time he let himself be pulled back.

But then his eyes caught the wide, scared gaze of the cameraman who was recording the whole thing, and he glared. “I hope that bullshit was live. Because next time, I’m breaking more than a fucking nose if anyone ever disrespects her again.”

Despite the commotion being sudden, news spread very quickly around the paddock so it was no surprise to Max that you knew by the time he made it to his driver’s room.

“Playing the knight in shining armour now, huh?” You teased as he entered, still sprawled on the couch without a bother in the world.

“He deserved it,” Max stated simply as he made his way towards you. No matter what happened, no matter what put him in a shitty mood, just being near you always helped.

“He did,” you hummed as you opened your arms and let your boy settle on top of you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for defending me.”

“Always, Trouble,” he murmured in reply.

A few beats passed.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you do it again,” you said, trying to keep your voice as casual as possible as you ran your fingers through his hair. “It was kinda hot.”

You could feel his smirk against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Max lifted his head, his eyes a little darker and his mood significantly different to when he entered minutes ago. “Hot enough for me to fuck you over this couch?”

“Hot enough for you to have me any way you want me,” you confessed, your words a little breathier than usual as you felt his hands graze down your side.

Max’s smile was almost sadistic. “Bend over the couch, Trouble.”

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

983 notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 9 months

Text

Kento Nanami and his wife losing their unborn child in Shibuya (major tw!)

Pairing: husband!Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: It seemed like a normal evening when you passed out on the couch, not aware of Haruta sneaking into your shared apartment until he pierces his blade through your pregnant stomach. How will your husband react, finding out what happened to you?

Warning: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING!, if you feel uncomfortable with child loss or it triggers you in some way, please don't read this, heavy violence, heaviest angst but comfort (bc Nanami is the best husband ever), didn't proofread this because it hurts my soul, please note that I never experienced something like that and wrote it out of stories from family and it might be bad

This is like the bad ending to Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife. You can find it here

Thank you @wifenanami for breaking our heart (I love your requests babe) 😭

Your mind is a blur when you open your aching lids against a harsh light. Damn, everything hurts, you feel like someone has stabbed you over and over again. Your stomach aches so bad…why? The last thing you remember is…

A toe-curling scream coming out of your own mouth. Hands that keep you from falling to the ground. Darkness, unimaginable agony, grief. But why? What happened? Out of instinct, your hands wander to your belly. Weren’t you at home passed out on the couch with your heavy belly laying on the side, waiting for your husband to come back to you?

You were, but there’s something else…

Suddenly, a wave of memories washes over you, memories that make your whole body tremble with overflooding emotions.

“I-I can’t feel her anymore. Shoko, I can’t feel her, she isn’t moving!”, you cry on top of your lungs, hands roaming around your blood-soaked stomach in a desperate attempt to find a heartbeat.

You weren’t fast enough. The minute that blond-haired man with the ugly ponytail stumbled into your apartment and shot a sword directly through your belly, you were lost at words, lost at actions, lost at control. As if frozen in place, you watched as he pierced through you over and over again, your blood spilling onto the cold marble floor, discolouring everything in your crimson blood within seconds.

And hers. Your precious daughter. It was only a matter of time said Shoko the other day. A matter of time until you’d be finally able to hold her in your arms, a matter of time to see your husband putting her to sleep.

But time ran out for both of you.

“Send my best wishes to your husband! Well, you probably can’t do that anymore though…See ya!”

You can’t remember what happened next. How did you even manage to let Shoko know that you’re injured? It doesn’t matter anyway. The look of pure horror on her face was enough for you to know that it’s too late.

“Y-you…you need to save her”, you hush, tears now taking your sight completely.

You are nothing but weak. Too weak to defend yourself, too fucking weak to even move an inch when someone attacks you.

Too weak to save the life of your daughter.

Your daughter…

“Tell me she’s okay”, you mumble into the light above you over and over like a prayer.

Maybe all of this was nothing but a bad dream. Maybe Shoko was really able to use her reversed technique on both you and your precious daughter. Maybe she’s laying in her father’s arms right now, safe and sound. Her father…where is your husband? Is he alright?

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I tried everything I could but…I couldn’t save her, she was already dead when I arrived…”

“No”, you interrupt her immediately.

You hold your breath. How often did you imagine what she might look like? Your little angel. Oh, you were so excited when you found out you’re expecting your first child back then, Kento was so overwhelmed that he even cried. She was the blessing in a world full of curses, your little ray on sunshine in the dark.

She…She can be dead…

“You were there, right? You saved both of us, right?”

Shoko leans down towards you. And for the first time since knowing her, you see her cry. Not only a single tear runs down her face, but a never-ending waterfall while she holds onto your shaky hand.

You feel numb, want to laugh and cry at the same time, want to scream and to stay silent all at once. This…This can’t be reality. This isn’t how it’s supposed to turn out. You’ve read enough books to know how happy endings work, that the people who deserve it will always find happiness.

“My darling.”

His voice catches you off guard, makes your glossy eyes widen and heartbeat pick up. This is him, without any doubt. Your husband is here.

Gently, he grabs your other hand and leans forwards.

Your breath hitches in an instant.

“Kento…”

Half of his body is burned, bruises cover his gorgeous face. But the worst thing is the unwavering sadness that gleams in his orbs. It hits you like a wall.

The things you saw, Shoko’s words.

Everything is true.

You lost your child at Shibuya.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). Everything is my fault. I should have saved you, I should have stayed with you, I should have killed him…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…”

And then he breaks down on the side of the bed you’re laying in, head pressed against the soft mattress while crying so horribly that you feel like dying right on the spot.

This, everything that happened…Everything is only your fault. You should have listened when he instructed you to stay at Jujutsu High, you should have locked the door like he always said. You are not only responsible for getting hurt, but also for losing the way too young life of your unborn daughter.

She had her whole life ahead of her. Her first steps, her first time saying “dada”, your precious husband buying her clothes, bringing her to school on her first day, comforting her when he first boy breaks her heart only to scare this poor boy to death…

You didn’t only kill her, but her whole future. And Kento’s on top.

“How are you feeling, love? Are you still in pain?”

You don’t even dare to look at him, numb eyes just staring at the ceiling. No, you don’t deserve this man kneeling in front of you, you don’t deserve him even talking to you.

“You should leave.”

Thick silence hangs in the air, Kento’s eyes darted towards you in sheer disbelief. Why would you ever suggest something like that? When he woke up, the first thing on his mind was you. When Shoko told him what happened, that your daughter died and she isn’t sure if you’ll make it, it felt as if a part of himself is vanishing. You, the love of his life, the baby both of you waited for…

“I will never leave your side, love. Not when we both need each other more than ever”, he replies as calmly as possible.

“Why would you say that when I’m the one who killed your daughter?”

Your words hit him with full force, tear the ground from under his feet. It already hurts enough to know you lost your little angel in than senseless battle to that disgusting creature. But hearing that you make yourself responsible for what happened, that you think he doesn’t want to be with you anymore…

“Look at me.”

Carefully, he cups your cheek with his large hand, forcing you to return his gaze. The empty look in your eyes makes him tear up all over again.

This is so unfair, so unbelievable cruel. Isn’t it enough that you’ve lost your child? Why are you plaguing your mind with blaming yourself for that tragedy, why are you even thinking he’ll leave you?

“Let me tell you from the bottom of my heart that I love you more than ever. Let me promise you that I’ll never leave your side, no matter how numb you feel, no matter how often the pain gets overwhelming. Let me tell you that we’ll get through this together. Because you are my wife, (y/n). And even though it rips me apart to know that we’ve lost our daughter to this fucker, I will always be thankful that you survived. You did so well. I’m beyond proud that you’ve managed to call Shoko, that you pushed through and fought for your life. I will NEVER blame you for what happened at Shibuya. And I will love you through everything.”

“Kento…I miss her so much”, you breathe against his hand with so much grief in your voice that it takes him all his strength so not break down all over again.

“I miss her too, darling. But she’s always with us, she’ll never leave our side”, he whispers gently.

“I don’t deserve you…You, you are injured yourself. What happened to you?”

“Nothing but a few scratches. Let me stay by your side, okay? I never want to leave you alone again, (y/n).”

You can’t contain yourself any longer, it seems like the world around you collapses as you let yourself fall into your husband’s arms. Everything is too much, all the grief, all the sadness seems to swallow you whole. But oh does it feel good to lay against his chest, to feel his fingertips stroke your hair gently.

“I will always stay by your side. And so does our little angel.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopstick @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp@wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz

380 notes · View notes

caashmoneynae · 10 months

Text

MY MASTERLIST. -> click here for more!

❦

POISON.

JOEY BADA$$ AS UNIQUE FROM "RAISING KANAN" x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which Unique & Jaedyn are the '90s version of the 2000s classic "Baby Boy." ✨

❦

"𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡' 𝗨𝗣 𝗜𝗡 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗡' 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔𝗟𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗔 𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗞 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧." Jaedyn mugged, looking behind the couch and watching Unique scan the refrigerator, as Unique secretly rolled his eyes and grabbed a bottle of water.

"you actin' like you was gon' die cause i left you, Jae'," Unique retorted, closing the fridge, "i had to handle my bid'ness, i was gon' come back."

"yeah, after three months of runnin' the streets with Worrell doin' i don't know what." Jaedyn mumbled under her breath, yet Unique heard her loud and clear as he sipped on his water.

"Jaedyn, don't start this shit again. you knew what it was when you met me." Unique warned, swallowing his gulp of water, as he twisted the lid back onto the bottle and Jaedyn scoffed before looking back at him.

Jaedyn and Unique were as toxic as you could imagine. they always claimed they were done with each other and somehow ended up back in each other's embrace. their good times didn't last long, however, because Jaedyn would always argue with him about little things he did that'd get under her skin, like him staying out for several days because he was too caught up in his street shit.

"Kadeem, you so full of shit. when i met you, you only stayed out until around 1 or 2 o'clock in the mornin'. and i was fine with that 'cause i knew you had shit to do. but lately, you been comin' home days later, and i'm not fuckin' with it," Jaedyn spat as she raised onto her knees and rested her arms against the back of the couch, "you been fucking around, huh?"

"you know damn well i ain't been fuckin' nobody." Unique mugged, looking at her with furrowed brows.

"let me smell ya dick." Jaedyn blurted out, crossing her arms, as Unique scoffed and shook his head.

"gone with that bullshit, yo. that's childish as hell." Unique dismissed as Jaedyn laughed humorously and got up from the couch.

"nah, nigga, let me smell it! you been gone for the past few days and think you can just come in here like shit sweet?! ain't a damn thing in this bitch sweet!" Jaedyn exclaimed, storming into the kitchen, "drop them drawls and let me smell it, Kadeem, i'm not fuckin' playin'."

"and you think i am? i ain't droppin' shit, you overreactin' like a muh'fucka', yo." Unique defended, looking down at the woman, as Jaedyn looked up at him and narrowed her eyes at him, looking him up and down before scoffing.

"you know what... nigga, i hate you. i hate you so fuckin' much," Jaedyn scoffed, shaking her head, as she walked away from him, "you one selfish and egotistical ass nigga, K."

"yeah, i hear it a lot, shorty." Unique shrugged nonchalantly as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked towards the front door, opening it and attempting to slam it behind him but Jaedyn stopped him.

"oh, you 'bout to go fuck that bitch, huh?! that's where you goin'?! you just gon' walk out when i'm talkin' to you?!" Jaedyn purposely shouted, gaining the attention of bystanders that were either driving or on the sidewalk, "whatever, nigga, i don't need you to be here! i'm tired of sittin' up in this house not havin' a man next to me when i want 'cause he'd rather be runnin' the streets with his niggas! ooh, i hate you!"

"Jaedyn, take yo' ass back in the house or i swear to God, i'ma hurt you." Unique demanded lowly, his jaw clenching, as he reached into the pocket of his fur coat and pulled out his car keys before Jaedyn quickly snatched them from his grasp and stuffed them in the pocket of her sweatpants.

"no, fuck all'at! i hate you, 'Nique! i fuckin' hate you, i swear to God!" Jaedyn hollered, pushing his forehead with two of her fingers, as Unique grabbed her wrist with one hand and grabbed her throat with the other, making her grip his wrist while her jaw clenched.

"i hate yo' ass too, Jae'. there, i said it. you happy now, yo? now take yo' ass back in the house, stop embarrassin' yo'self in front of all these muh'fuckas', and give me my fuckin' keys." Unique growled as he aggressively let her go and Jaedyn scoffed before pushing him, causing him to stumble slightly but not drastically.

"fuck you, these motherfuckas', and these keys, nigga, you ain't goin' nowhere!" Jaedyn retorted, taking the keys out of her pocket, as she slightly turned around and threw them through the open front door, watching them land on the floor.

"see, why you always gotta' show yo' ass in public, Jae'?! you think this shit cute?!" Unique exclaimed, his brows furrowing, as Jaedyn stepped closer to him and her eyes slightly narrowed at him.

"nigga— fuck you, 'Nique! fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" Jaedyn yelled, jabbing her index finger into his clothed chest with every "fuck" that left her melanated lips.

"fuck you too, yo! you ain't gon' be satisfied 'til i shut you up my damn self." Unique warned menacingly, as Jaedyn smacked her lips and rolled her eyes, laughing in amusement.

"fuck you, nigga, you ain't gon' shit!"

—

"oh, f-fuck! yesssss, don't stop! ooh, d-don't stopppp!" Jaedyn cried, her brows furrowing, as she balled up the sheets in her hands and felt an aggressive tug on her hair, her back now against Unique's broad chest while her eyes rolled back into her head.

"you still hate me, shorty? huh?" Unique growled in her ear, letting go of her hair and wrapping his hand around her neck, as he roughly squeezed the sides of it and harshly smacked her ass, making a loud moan fall from Jaedyn's lips while her ass stung from his slap.

"n-no! no, Daddy, i-i swear i don't hate youuuu!" Jaedyn moaned loudly, throwing her head back against his shoulder, as soft kisses were placed on the side of her face and her earlobe and one of her hands let go of the sheets to tightly grip her man's wrist.

"tell me you love me, mama. tell Daddy you love him." Unique smirked smugly against the side of her face, gently tugging at her earlobe with his teeth, as Jaedyn squealed loudly and her lips sat ajar, her nails slightly digging into Unique's wrist while she succumbed to his pleasure.

"ooh, i love you! f-fuck, i love you so much, Kadeem!"

❝ KNOW YOU RIDE IT RIGHT. I MIGHT JUST DIE TONIGHT. BUT YOU KNOW I'M STILL COMIN' THROUGH, BABY. ❞

"you know these other bitches can't top you, mama. so why you actin' like that, yo? hm?" Unique cooed into her ear, his hips gyrating into hers, as Jaedyn whimpered feebly in response and her brows furrowed, "you know i be busy and i be out late, but you know i'ma always come back home to you, baby."

"i-i know, Daddy... i knowwww..." Jaedyn whined, a stray tear rolling down her cheek, as her vision faltered and her eyes rolled back, a broken moan falling from her lips at feeling Unique's tip jab into her spot.

"so, why you actin' crazy, shorty? why you showin' out like that?" Unique mumbled in her ear, his unoccupied hand caressing her side, as Jaedyn's body tingled from his touch and her hips slightly jolted in his arms, "you missed me, huh, baby?"

"y-yesssss! yes! i-i missed you so muchhh!" Jaedyn cried as her thighs began to tremble and her jaw dropped, "ooooh, i'm 'bout to cum! i'm 'bout to cummmm!"

❝ I KNOW IT'S BAD FOR ME. AND YOU KNOW IT TASTES SO SWEET. I THINK I NEED YOUR ABUSE, BABY. ❞

"y-yes! oh, my God, you feel so good!" Jaedyn moaned loudly, her arms wrapping around his neck, as she bounced up and down hastily on Unique's lap and her head flew back, her silk-pressed hair beginning to frizz up due to sweat and the humidity in the room.

"this pussy so fuckin' good, yo," Unique groaned, his brows lightly furrowing, as he bit down on his lip and his grills glistened under the light in the room, "and you think them bitches could top this... can't nobody top you, you heard? the shit that you do for me is somethin' that can't be replicated, mama. i ain't goin' nowhere, girl. and neitha' are you, you heard?"

"i ain't goin' nowhere... i ain't goin' nowhere..." Jaedyn panted breathlessly, feeling his arms wrap around her torso tightly, as Unique matched the pace of her hips and began to thrust aggressively from underneath her, "oh, fuck! o-oh, m-my— f-fuck, you're so biggggg!"

❝ GIRL, YOU DO DAMAGE TO ME. KNOW I LOVE IT, YEAH, I LOVE YOU. AIN'T NOTHING BETTER FOR ME NOW. ❞

"yeah? you feel me, shorty?" Unique cooed, smirking, as he looked up at her and watched her nod her head vigorously, "tell me what'chu feel, baby."

"i-i feel Daddy's dick!" Jaedyn cried, her nails digging into his shoulders, as she threw her head back for a second time and her brows furrowed, making a smirk spread across Unique's face while he kissed her neck and collarbone.

"you love Daddy's dick, princess? hm?" Unique smirked, smacking and gripping her asscheeks, as tears of pleasure began falling down Jaedyn's face and she let out a sob.

"i-i love Daddy's dickkkk!" Jaedyn sobbed, holding onto Unique tightly, as her legs began to tremble for a second time and a loud whine fell from her lips.

❝ GIRL, YOU DO DAMAGE TO ME. KNOW I LOVE IT, YEAH, I LOVE YOU. AIN'T NOTHING BETTER FOR ME NOW... ❞

Jaedyn and Unique engaged in a sloppy and lustful lip-lock as both of her legs rested on his shoulders, his body weight on top of hers while her knees rested against her shoulders. she cupped his face in her hands and held his face close to hers as their heavy breathing filled the kiss while their tongues wrestled passionately, occasional moans and groans filling the kiss while the bed rocked underneath them.

they might've been toxic but the sex was what kept them coming back. no other man could put it down like Unique and no other woman had good coochie like Jaedyn. the sex pulled them back to each other every time, and no matter the circumstance, they'd always find their way back to each other.

pulling away from the kiss, their foreheads rested against each other's as Unique bit down on his bottom lip and breathy moans left Jaedyn's ajar lips, her brows furrowing while her finger gently slid through the gold hoop in his ear.

"i-i love you, Kadeem..." Jaedyn breathily whimpered, looking up at the man, as Unique slightly smiled and gently pecked the woman on the lips.

"i love you more, Jae'."

❝ ...THAN YOUR POISON, BABE. ❞

#Spotify #x black fem reader #x black reader #black girl beauty #smut #joey bada$$#joeybadass #black stories #black culture #black community #black love #black people #one shot #oc #raising kanan #toxic love #toxic relationship

158 notes · View notes

imnotasuperhero · 2 years

Text

Deep, in the dark, you’ll surrender your heart.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: What started like a playfull banter leading to a nightstand, turned into something else in the span of hours. (There’s a small part containing smut that I set the font in cursive and it doesn’t affect the story if you scroll past it)

A/N: I’ve gotten this request Tuesday night and it refused to leave my mind untill I created it, so here it is! An over 4k gigant that had taken a night off my life, literally. I’ve been writing and planning since last night at 8pm and It’s past 7 am now, which I hope helps you dismiss any possible mistake since my two braincells are squeezing their fuel thank. Enjoy!

“I agree. That specific shade should be garnet instead of burgundy.” You commented, leaning into the stranger sitting at a barstool with her sight lost into space.

“I-” The body in front of you stood petrified for a few seconds too long. “What?” Frowned the brunette looking back at you with a quizzical expression.

“You’ve been staring at that wall for so long I thought you were analyzing it.” You shrugged. “Is this seat taken?”

“See if I care.”

You smirked, asking the beardy man for your drink.

“Interesting choice you went for,” the woman beside you noted, clearly hearing your order.

“You see, when you’re in my line of work, you’re forced to combine things even in random aspects of your life.” You spoke confidently, determined to try a new bed tonight.

“That’s so, huh?” The green eyes beauty sipped from her drink, and you felt your legs tremble at the ghosting smirk perched on her lips.

Thanking the man, you dragged your glass in her direction. “Wanna try it?”

“How do I know you didn’t pay the guy to roofie me?”

Clicking your tongue, you faked your best deception look. “Damn it. You’ve got me.”

The playful smile on those red lips captivated you in ways you never thought possible. “If something happens to me, know that you’ll have to watch your back for life.”

“I’m good at defending myself,” you winked, earning a hearty laugh from her.

Seeing in anticipation how the stranger brought your cocktail to her lips, you choked at the low moan she breathed after the cold, sour drink collided against her taste buds. “I see you know what you want,” she nodded just to take the drink out of your reach. “Nu-uh, this is mine.”

“Am afraid it won’t be free,” you warned, and you patted yourself on the back when you noticed the stealthy deep intake of breath she took.

“Is it beet what I taste?” She scrunched her nose in a way that made you smile.

The following hours were spent talking with that beautiful woman that has taken your breath away from the other side of the bar in which you met your friends at. You could always rain check for another day.

Wanda, as she introduced herself, was a woman of many achievements and the CEO of some growing interior design company located on the outskirts of Manhattan island and, just like you, she didn’t lack the guts to do whatever she pleased which, being honest, you embraced with open arms.

Sending a quick text to Charlie, you extended your arms, smirking when Wanda accepted the gesture, after considering it for a moment.

To say the distance to her place was taking so long was an understatement. Luckily the car had a tinted window that separated the driver’s space from you both, not that you would mind if it didn’t. Lord knows the things you’ve done in the backseat of multiple taxis.

Wanda’s intoxicating lips casted a spell on you for all you could do was try to win the prevailing war between you both. Your hands rummaged upwards, squeezing with just the right force, taking a throaty moan out of her.

But what had you gasping was the sudden weight on your laps.

“Someone’s needy,” you rasped, moving your lips from her lips down her throat, kissing and sucking on her pulse point.

“You’re the one who drugged me,” Wanda moaned, moving her hips against your bare thigh.

Moaning, you grabbed her waist, guiding her through the chasing. “In my defense, you were warned,”

“Shut your smartmouth and kiss me.”

But before you could do so, the car came to a stop, making her grunt. “Hurry up,” she commanded moving off of you, waiting to exit the car.

After she got out, you quickly closed the door, following her to the entrance of the captivating facade.

The simple yet strong lines of the elements conformed an appealing look, calling you to understand the unique blend of the different textures intricated in a good-looking puzzle of warm colors.

“Nice contrast,” you commented, scrutinizing every single aspect of the exterior of the house in front of you.

“I can give you a tour later,” Wanda spoke a few feet from you, the expectation clear in her green eyes.

“Right,” you rushed inside, not able to scold yourself for admiring the modern style.

“The way you chose abstract-” you stopped mid-sentence when Wanda’s slender finger burned the skin on your lips.

“Less talking, more kissing.” She smiled something impatiently.

“Yes, ma’am.” You smirked, capturing her lips once more, re-exploring every single spot you could reach.

Stumbling through your steps, your hands held tightly onto Wanda’s hips, your fingers itching to be in contact with the softest sking you could only imagine in your dreams.

“Zip,” she indicated as her hands reached for yours.

Doing a quick job of the zip at her back, you broke apart from her lips, looking intently into the darkened green eyes as your hands brushed the thigh fabric down her pale skin.

You could only gasp as your eyes ran down her body excruciatingly slowly, determined to take in her natural beauty.

Once her black dress was discarded on the floor, you quickly strip to your underwear to then push her softly to the bed.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you vowed looking at Wanda in her birth suit, fusing with the sea green of her silky sheets.

Smiling softly, Wanda took your hand, bringing you on top of her. “Show me.”

You didn’t need more indication than these words for the hungriness inside you roared at the hallucinating taste of her lips.

Your tongue fought against hers, in a game of dominance that only the strongest one would win. You constricted the muscle of your thigh against her core as Wanda’s hips bucked upwards with expertise, coating your warm skin with the sticky substance and you made a mental note to taste her. But for now, you worshiped her body like the goddess she was.

The sheets wrinkled in her fists as your teeth marked her burning skin, sending her into a spiral full of ecstasy.

The painful moan she released when you moved forward just right enough had you grumbling at the need taking over you.

“Don’t hold back,” you ordered her, kissing her as deep as you could, not having enough of her. The tips of your fingers itched with electricity the more your hands explored her lustful body, and the willpower to keep her wanting was dropping critically fast.

With one last kiss to her lips, you began a long but enjoyable trip down the sea of warm, smooth skin, feeding a hunger you didn’t think you could ever fill.

Sloppy, wet kisses pampered Wanda’s skin, sending her to cloud nine as she gave into the pleasure you provided her, turning her into a complete mess under you.

The nails dipping on your back took a guttural grunt out of you, which only served for you to bite just above her pert nipple. You smiled when Wanda trembled under you, jotting down your discovery on your mind for later use.

“Please,”

“Hmm?” You growled, too busy sucking on her pinky nipple, as your free hand pinched and massaged her other.

“I need you,” Wanda cried softly, thumping hard against your overcoated thigh.

Sighing expectantly, you left her breast with a pop.

Looking up, you made sure Wanda’s eyes stayed locked on yours as you descended through her sternum down to her lower stomach, amazed by the utter craving reflected in her darkened pupils.

A primal moan escaped you when your tongue lapped at her folds, your taste buds coated in that elixir you’ve got the pleasure to discover.

Not getting enough of it, you poked and licked every single corner you could reach, enjoying the animalistic moans coming from over you.

“Oh, fuck!” Wanda cried when your tongue entered her. “Don’t stop.”

Grunting, you obliged.

She asked you to show her your devotion, and you just did that for a few more rounds, until she asked you for mercy.

“You sure you can’t give me one more?” You smirked against her lips, gradually slowing the pace of your fingers after guiding her through her fall.

“Maybe later,” she wrapped her arms around your neck, bringing you closer to her, enjoying the mixed warmth of your sweaty bodies.

Giggling, you decided to give up. Propping yourself on your elbow half on top of Wanda, your hand started to draw invisible patterns on her chest, quietly listening to her humming.

“Wonder what other qualities you withhold,” Wanda mused, breaking the comfortable silence that settled between you two a few moments ago.

“Not to brag about, but I’m doing well in life,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

At the silence settling once again, you looked from the hand in her chest to Wanda’s eyes, questioning silently.

“Go on a date with me,”

Your fingers stop mid-movement as those words sunk in. She wanted… more?

“I don’t do dates,” you shifted uncomfortably, retracting your hand to your personal space.

“It doesn’t mean marriage, you know?” Wanda frowned at your refusal.

“I don’t care. I’m not looking for more than what this is. A nightstand only.” You remarked on every word, making sure she understood.

You heard her sigh pregnantly as you stood up, dressing up.

“Do you even know who I am?” the brunette stood up, too, walking around the bed to reach you.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are,” you hissed internally at those words. “I’m not interested.”

“I’m Wanda fucking Maximoff! You should be glad I looked at you,” the woman stepped forward, sending chills down your spine. The look in those green eyes that held so much glint a few moments ago shifted to one of anger. Her body stance alerted all your senses and you choked at the need to win the match once again, fucking that rage away.

Instead, you grabbed her shoulders, moving her closer just enough.

“Goodbye, Wanda fucking Maximoff.” You walked away, leaving a steamy Wanda behind.

A week passed since your encounter with Wanda and she hadn’t been able to expel you from her mind. The captivating, mysterious persona you possessed had her hanging with unanswered questions that, with the way you gave but held back, only seemed to grow by the minute. And the plans and documents she had on her desk only added to the headache her eyes were acquiring the more she looked at the different colors and textures.

‘I need you’ she sighed sending the text, turning around in her chair to enjoy the skyline in front of her. The imaginary finger scratching at her brain was getting the best of her, affecting her work.

The grasp on her phone faltered for a moment as the chiming startled her.

‘It’s an easy day. Come over to the bakery and we’ll talk.’ Wanda smiled gladly. She knew she could always count on her friend.

Stepping into the chilly air of mid-October, Wanda snuggled into her velvety coat and decided against driving. It was just a few blocks away and she knew for sure she could use some oxygen.

“I ordered your usual,” the redhead greeted as Wanda took a seat at their designated table.

“You’re a blessing,” the brunette thanked. “I was praying you were free.”

“That bad, huh?” Natasha smiled pitifully.

“Remember I hooked up with a girl last week?”

Wanda wasn’t someone to avoid subjects. She didn’t had the time nor the strength to kick around the bush. Much less when it was something that took over her whole life.

“Thank you,” Natasha thanked the young girl placing their food at their table. “She’s stalking you?” The smirk on the redhead’s lips made Wanda’s blood boil. “You should get used to it by now, Wands. Or better yet, create an alter ego.”

“Haha, very funny.” Wanda snarled, taking a bite of her cinnamon roll. “She basically discarded me like some piece of-”

“As your best friend, you had it coming a long time ago, babes.”

Those words ricocheted through her mind, suddenly realizing some… no. She was a goddess and everyone knew her worth.

“I’m serious, Nat! She didn’t even allow me to ask her out.” Wanda cringed at the whine in those words. You’ve come around like a brick wall and all she wanted to do was to climb it up.

And boy, did you come.

Wanda looked up from the sweet treat on her plate at the sound of the voice that haunted her since the day you left.

“Y/N!” The brunette witnessed quietly how -her- Natasha stood up, hugging you as you giggled, unaware of her presence.

“Long time, no see.” You smiled, keeping an eye on the barista preparing your order.

“Dude, yes! I’m sorry for not going the other day-”

“You’re okay, Nat. I knew it was a long shot for you to be back in time.”

“Really. We can meet tonight if you want.”

The whole interaction panged at Wanda’s heart as she saw you interacting so carefree with someone who wasn’t her. And the fact Natasha had known you all this time didn’t ease the betrayal she was starting to feel.

“-Wanda.” The brunette came out of her reverie at the calling her name and she’d be lying if the look of indifference in your eyes sent her soul to the underworld.

“Hi,” you acknowledged her with a polite smile.

Before she could answer, you hurriedly kissed Nat’s cheek, claiming you were in a hurry and your order was ready.

The feeling of emptiness invaded Wanda once again, forming a lump in her throat.

“What’s wro- It’s her?” Natasha asked scandalized. Her green eyes wide open.

“That’s Y/N,” Wanda sighed, looking defeated at your attitude.

“Oh, my.” Natasha sat back down, her gaze full of pitiness. “I’m sorry, Wands. She’s… she’s out of reach.”

“You have to help me,” she begged.

To be honest, Wanda was tired of portraying someone she really wasn’t. She’s been for a while now. Her own past molded her to protect her heart and never let her naive self show again. But if the last few days served for something, was to show her she might have found the person she could trust her heart to. If only she could have you.

“I don’t know,” the redhead squeezed her hand supportingly.

”You know her, Nat. Why is she closed up to me?”

“It’s not you, Wanda.” Natasha smiled tenderly. “She… she has her own dilemmas, too. Just like you,”

Looking down at the design in front of you, you sighed tiredly as your mind seemed to refuse to let go of the encounter from hours ago. Wanda’s sad face was engraved into your retinas, making your chest inflate with something akin to sorrow with every breath you took.

But you’ve made your peace with your change of character. You valued yourself too much to be left as a second option for some businesswoman. That kind was never a nice feature.

You just couldn’t take the risk. Your heart weighed more than any pretty face with a killer body that invited you to their bed.

Thankfully, the knock on your door took you out of your head, smiling at the grumbling of your stomach as the time on your phone read 8 pm.

“Did I ever tell you I love you?” You greeted the redhead, grabbing the bags out of her hands.

“Once or twice, but it better be true for that cost me a lung,” Natasha smirked as she saw you licking your lips at the food in front of you.

“I’ll pay you back,” you shrugged, hurriedly placing both pairs of chopsticks beside the containers on the wooden coffee table.

“How about you design my future house for free?” Nat tried walking into the kitchen, looking for the cold bottle of wine and two glasses.

“You know you’ll need to buy me more than this, right?” You clicked your tongue, earning a laugh from your friend.

“We’ll discuss it another time,” she sat by your side on the floor, taking the remote to choose a movie.

Content, both of you decided on a lighthearted movie as you dig into the delicious sushi calling your name, commenting here and there throughout the whole duration.

The weight in your heart lifted a bit as you smiled at the peace the redhead provided you. No matter how long you’ve been apart, your friendship was always intact.

“So,” Natasha spoke as the credit rolled on the darkened screen. “Have you got an offer yet?”

“Still waiting,” you sipped from your wine, enjoying the tingly sensation.

“I might have found you a nice spot,”

“You what? For real?” Your eyes almost fell out of its sockets at the words. “Oh, my lord, Nat!” You launched yourself at a giggling redhead. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“It was nothing,” her long arms wrapped around your waist for a moment. “They asked if I knew someone and I thought of you.”

“You’re the best, really!” You gasped cheerily, breaking away from the hug.

You couldn’t fit more happiness in your chest. Granted, you still had to get interviewed and everything, but the idea of taking a break from the hustle of being your own boss looked like a great vacation after working solo for the last 2 years.

To say that night you were unable to sleep was an understatement for all your mind could think of was the different projects you’d direct for the next few years. No more deals with the clients nor complaints about prices.

Feeling optimistic, you looked at your reflection one last time before confidently walking out of your apartment with a steamy travel mug of coffee in hand. The blasting music coming from the speakers of your car had your head bobbing at the beat, adding to the feeling of pure joy you experienced.

But said joy muted into nervousness as you stepped through the floor-to-ceiling doors of the building. The bodies scattered around unbothered by your presence.

“Hi,” you greeted the lady at the front desk. “I’m here for the design team director’s interview?”

“One minute, please.” The blonde smiled warmly before tapping away on her keyboard. “Take the elevator to the third floor, then walk straight to the office at the back.”

“Thank you so much,” you smiled, fasting your grip on the strap of your portfolio bag as you walked the directions you were given.

Stopping by, you knocked on the ginormous wooden door, you straightened yourself, confident enough to not think about the looks the people working on that floor were giving you.

You prayed silently as the muffled voice on the other side invited you to come in.

But all the nervousness and expectations you had flew outside the window at the woman sitting in front of you.

“Y/N,” Wanda gasped, standing up and walking slowly towards you.

You took a deep breath and allowed yourself to calm the turmoil forming inside of you.

“I should've known better,” you grunted thinking back on the comfortable space you found Natasha last Thursday. You should’ve known someone like Wanda wouldn't stop until she got what she settled her eyes onto.

“No, please stay.” Wanda hurried to the door, blocking your way.

“Is the position even open?” You changed your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the previous cheery feeling slipping through your body.

“It is,” Wanda said, hurt showing in her eyes. “It was just a coincidence Nat knows a potential talent to replace Julio.”

“I’m sure someone else will pop up,” you sighed, ignoring looking her in the eyes. The magnetic pull between you both, getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Please. Just give us a try. The company, I mean,” Wanda corrected herself.

Looking up to those green eyes that liked to hunt your dreams sometimes shined with hope and you couldn’t resist. Not when you had finished the last project and had nothing to do until you found something else.

“Whatever,” you walked over to the desk, unbeknownst to Wand’s toothy smile.

“Here are a few of my designs,” you handed her the black leathery folder, fighting the urge to pay attention to Wanda’s reaction to every page she inspected.

Focusing on every single detail in Wanda’s minimalistic office, you quietly calmed your erratic heart as you dried your hands on your jacket.

After a few minutes of silence, the brunette hummed approvingly and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“They’re really good, Y/N,” Wanda smiled proudly at you and you felt your heart do a somersault at the look in her eyes. “I like how detailed your lines are.”

“Thank you,” you smiled shyly.

“I have a question, though,” Wanda closed the folder and placed it on her desk, her intertwined hands over it. “I only see your designs lead towards the simplistic, detailed styles. How do you manage with Victorian style?” The perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in a criticizing way and could only stand still, hiding the unsettling tickles on your stomach.

Was that still ongoing? You knew there was always someone who wanted their place overcrowded with furniture that only served to suffocate you the longer you stayed inside the room. But never thought it was something this company specialized in.

“It makes me cringe, but I can put the client's wishes over my comfort,” you answered honestly.

“Good, because as the head of the interior design department, you must be open to things that give you nightmares.” Wanda smiled, trying to win your trust.

And that she did. Every new interaction she pulled out of you, served for you to see her as Wanda the person and not as your boss. With every project you both discussed, the closest you two became and what started like an overstay on a stormy night to finish some big project, turned into impromptu after-hour at least once a month. And Wanda couldn’t be prouder of herself for fooling you into deadlines that could easily be met the following day.

“Food is here,” Wanda informed you, walking towards the door. “Hope you feel like having Thai.”

“Sure,” you agreed, your attention focused on the different palettes of blues trying to find the right shade for this nursery. Unaware of Wanda’s soft gaze on you.

One of Wanda’s oldest clients asked for her to be the one who designed the brand new house he wanted to gift her daughter, and of course, she thought this was a great way to have you stay longer.

The more you opened up to her, the harder it was for Wanda to give up her hopes. And in consequence, the deeper she felt for you, like an innocent girl walking towards a spooky candy store filled with the sweetest treats you could imagine.

“Let’s take a break,” she suggested entering her office, looking at your couched form painting on the plan under you.

“It’s okay, I can multitask,” you shrugged.

Sighing, she walked over and took the coloring pencil off your hand. “I’m not asking,” she looked sternly at you.

“Fine,” you huffed, following her to the small sofa adjacent to her desk.

Allowing the comfortable silence that settled between you, Wanda ate her noodles thinking of the right way to say what she needed.

The curiosity was taking the best of her and the fact that Natasha was secretive about it only added to the itching feeling eating her from the inside out.

“Can I ask you something?”

Wanda could only smile softly at the innocent look you gave her as you nodded with the chopsticks still in your mouth and a single noodle escaping your lips.

“Why you refuse to go on dates?” She braced herself for the stormy argument about to start.

Only, it never came.

“Why so insistent?” You swallowed, allowing your shoulders to fall.

“It’s the only thing that haunts me every moment since we hooked up,” Wanda explained honestly, seeing how your face shifted from discomfort to resignation.

“My ex was a lawyer. She always put her work over me, no matter how much I tried to get her to come home before midnight.” You spoke softly and Wanda felt a pang in her heart at the disappointment in your voice.

“After I stomp down my foot, I promised myself to never be the second option for someone else. If my girlfriend can’t stop working to come to our bed, then she could never be the right one.”

“I’m sorry,” Wanda could only ache at your confession, the tugs at her heart only pulling further, imagining you alone in bed feeling so small in the nighttime.

“You know not everyone is the same, right?” She tried, tiptoeing into the idea forming in her mind.

“Says the one who stays after hours every other day,” you smirk.

“I don’t like being alone,” Wanda thought it was only fair to share her own issue.

Your small laugh got Wanda frowning. What could be funny about this?

“Nat would be all braggy about this,” you nodded in the negative. “She said we were meant to be,” you looked up at her and Wanda’s heart missed a few beats.

“Wouldn’t doubt that,” the brunette smiled at the thought of her friend teasing you equally as she did with her.

“Can I kiss you?”

If her heart was having trouble beating by itself, she was sure she now needed a cardiac pacemaker for the dizziness that appeared for a second or two.

Smiling brightly, the brunette launched herself at you, savoring the lips she’s dreamed of for so long.

“Is this some default movement?” You smirked as she settled on your lap.

“Oh, hush. It’s not like you don’t enjoy it,” Wanda countered attaching her lips to yours, not having enough of you.

“Does this mean I get to take you on a date?” She asked hopeful, after breaking the link for much-needed air.

The look of playfulness that she found in your eyes made her squeal in anticipation.

“One missed date, one late anniversary, hell; even one plan canceled at the last minute, I walk out of your life.”

Wanda could only nod frantically at the prospect of you having accepted her. The foggy dreams at the back of her mind cleared away as her determination lighted brighter than ever.

“You have my word,” she leaned down to seal the pact with a kiss.

She knew that it was too soon to jump into the pool. But having you in her arms after surrendering your heart to her, Wanda made it her mission to never leave you down. No matter what trouble she got in, she’s had the emptiness of her heart be filled by you and she couldn’t retribute you any other way than to put you first above anything else.

As always, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @red1culous @wandabear

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #my writing #requested

405 notes · View notes

cactus-cuddler · 1 month

Text

The Witch's Throne

❀❁❀ Prologue

Series masterlist | next chapter

* ˚ ✦ Word count: 784

* ˚ ✦ Warnings: murder

* ˚ ✦ Author' note: sorry for my bad English, it isn't my first language. I hope you will enjoy this story!♡

It is a cold and quiet night, not a soul is heard. Your servants have all fallen into a deep sleep, and only you and your husband are awake. The crows caw near your castle as if they already know what is about to happen in the blink of an eye.

You are in bed with your husband, who tries to remove your nightgown. But when he feels something metallic and sharp against your underwear, he suddenly pulls back, frightened.

He looks into your eyes under the light of the candle you lit a little while ago and only now notices your gaze. Your mind wanders between horrible and ignoble thoughts, and reading your assassin's glare, he leaps up and runs towards the door. But he doesn't know it's useless.

The handle is locked, and the terror in his eyes excites you, making your skin tingle. You can't wait to plunge the blade hidden in your nightgown into the heart of the man who has ruined your life for five long years. You get out of bed, and your white robe drags along the floor, covering your soft breasts and delicately caressing your waist with its fabric. You blow out the candle light and let only the moon light up your room. You run your tongue over that sharp blade that leaves a metallic taste on your tongue.

"Darling, a witch has possessed you. You don't want to do this," your husband screams in despair, banging on the door, hoping someone will hear him. But the sleeping potion you put in the servants' water is already coursing through their bodies. No one will hear him.

"You men think women can't kill, but today I'll prove you wrong," you say, slowly approaching with the blade in your hand, ready to strike. However, your husband dies before you can do anything. Despite yourself, the poison you slipped into his wine has already taken effect, and there's no need to dirty your hands. Your husband's body leans against the door and slowly falls to the floor with a thud. It is a great fortune that he died like this and not by your blade.

You planned this night down to the smallest detail. You made the sleeping potion by grinding the right plants yourself, and for the poison, you went to buy it from an old woman who lives just outside your kingdom. When she asked what you needed it for, you told her you had a terminally ill patient at home and wanted to end his suffering. She believed you and didn't ask further.

If the poison hadn't worked, you would have stabbed him until he took his last breath. It would have been more challenging to hide your guilt, sure, but at least it would have been more satisfying. You would have said that armed bandits had entered and your "dear" husband would have defended you when they saw that they wanted to take you without your consent. You would have hurt yourself to make it all believable. But now it was not necessary. They will think that he died of an illness during the night.

You put the knife in a drawer and, with much effort, drag the body onto the bed. His body is as fat as any self-respecting king's, and he only knows how to consume more food every day than his subjects will ever see in a single year. You lie down next to him. It all has to be believable. You can't help but smile, knowing that now you will be the queen of the kingdom and will no longer have anyone to belittle you and use you as a plaything every time his desire stirs. Now, you will finally be free.

But you don't know that outside your window, sitting on a tree, there is a human figure who has watched the whole scene with extreme attention. His will has been done and you have only been a means. But you really wanted to kill him, damn if you wanted to.

The next morning, the servants enter your room to wake you and tell you breakfast is ready, but as soon as they notice the king isn't breathing, the ladies scream, waking you from your dream.

"What happened?" you ask, rubbing your eyes and stretching.

"The king..." begins a young woman in tears. It takes courage to cry for a man like that.

"The king? What happened to the king?" you ask, looking at your late husband and pretending to notice only now that he isn't breathing. To get into character, you start sobbing on his body, but as you hide your face in his chest, you smile happily.

Series masterlist | next chapter

#marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow

41 notes · View notes

gimmethosedaddymilkers · 9 months

Text

The Stronger Desires

So, starting off strong, we're doing the request for @cantchoosejust1 first, who lovingly requested a femme fatale reader.

Now, I haven't written anything like this, so hopefully you enjoy my spin on things.

Now, let's see exactly what happens with these two.

*Side note, I may have a poll later regarding a pfp change, just to see everyone's thoughts.*

Warnings: Cursing, canon like violence, sexual innuendos, perhaps even fluff, Female reader

The gif is unfortunately not mine, and Tumblr didn't wanna work with me, so it's from Pinterest.

Anywho

Arthur wished, truly, that he could explain exactly how he ended up in this spot, but honestly he'd be just as lost as whoever he was telling the story too.

The night had started off pretty good in all honesty. The gang had been celebrating, enjoying their success on the last job they'd managed to pull off, drinking, laughing, and causing problems for everyone else around them in the saloon.

The place had been lively. Hell, even Arthur had ACTUALLY been having fun.

The biggest smile on his face as he took a seat in the far corner to catch his breath from all the dancing and singing he'd been doing, which he was sure had made him look like an absolute fool.

He chuckles to himself as he quietly lights a cigarette and places it between his lips.

The Saint Denis saloon was...surprisingly more lively than what he'd expected it to be. Rich folks sure knew how to party properly.

Out of the corner of his eye he spots something, a brightly colored dress, not out of the norm for this place, but, for some reason, this one seemed...different.

He turned his head to look, and he was honestly surprised he managed to keep the cigarette in his mouth with the way it nearly fell open.

The woman wearing the dress was far prettier than the actual dress itself.

A gorgeous face, and absolutely wonderful hair as well.

The only part that didn't quite make much sense to him was the fact that you were all over a fat aristocrat. Balding with an awful mustache, but you seemed to be rather excited to stand next to him.

He couldn't quite understand it, how absolutely stunning you are, yet you're following a man like that around.

It boggled him.

The night continued, as they usually do, but now that he'd seen you, Arthur couldn't quite stop staring at you.

You were absolutely beautiful. You were...stunning, and it was damn near impossible for him to focus on much else.

It was hard not to when they man you were clinging too was a big as a house, and being followed around by at least four body guards.

What he was doing in a saloon he'd never know.

It's pretty late at night when things really start to get confusing for Arthur. It's about here that he'd be a little...confused when trying to retell the tale.

Due to the confusing nature of it all as well as all the apple pie moonshine in his system.

Things seem to be going smoothly, until all the sudden the entire saloon is screaming rather than singing.

Instinct takes over and Arthur's hand grabs the butt of his pistol before he realizes exactly what's going on.

The crowd quickly disperses, and it's then that Arthur realizes exactly what happened.

You, you're what happened.

There, on the floor is the aristocrat, though he's much less lively now that there's a bullet wound through his head.

How the hell he hadn't heard the shot he still didn't grasp.

The body guards all surround...you.

Arthur almost jumped up right then and there to defend you. He could take out all four of them in a matter of seconds, and he knew that, but right as he contemplates it he watches you pull a revolver out from under your dress.

The evening suddenly got much more interesting.

"Back off! Or I'll kill you too, that fat bastard had more money than he needed anyway, and if he'd put his hand up my skirt one more time he was gonna die in a much worse way, so be fucking GRATEFUL!"

Arthur nearly laughs out loud at the venom in your voice. It was...well it wasn't funny actually, it was more...attractive to him than anything.

For a moment you make eye contact with him, and it's a strange sensation, the way the two of you seem to talk with your eyes.

Arthur gives you a soft nod, a small smirk on his face and then he nods towards the saloon doors.

You give a nod in return and Arthur takes it as his que to leave discreetly.

It's only a moment later when you exit the saloon at a sprint, and Arthur holds his hand out for you to grab as he sits atop his horse, a black Shire.

You take his hand and he hoists you up easily, as if you weigh nothing at all.

The moment you're on his horse he takes off, the remaining guards rushing out of the saloon too.

It's only seconds after that, that the sound of the lawmen's whistles can be heard. One of the patrons must have reported the gunshot.

You hold onto Arthur for dear life, an arm around his torso and the other holding out your revolver.

"Nice to meet you mister! I take it you aren't exactly a friend of the government either?"

"No ma'am!"

Arthur laughs at the absurdity of it and keeps riding hard as the lawmen start to gather behind the two of you.

"Quick on your feet back there!"

He states, taking a turn down an alleyway that appeared to be just big enough.

"Thanks, you too, saw you reach for your gun!"

You chuckle to yourself.

"Don't exactly look the rich type. In fact, don't look like the Saint Denis type. I take it you might be in the uh...'bodyguard' business."

"If ya mean shootin' fools who deserve it, then yes, I am."

"Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Arthur Morgan."

"Y/N L/N."

"Nice to meet ya. Let's get the hell outta here."

Arthur did his best to do just that, out running the law as quickly as he could get his poor horse to go.

Finally after quite some time the two of you make it into the woods, just outside Saint Denis, the sound of the lawmen steadily fading.

You're nearly out of the woods, metaphorically of course, when a stump seems to have other ideas.

Arthur and you both go flying off the horse, and directly into the mud below.

It's dark as hell and Arthur has no clue exactly where he is, and you just barely do.

Both of you are covered in mud and Arthur's horse: Mayhem, is currently writhing on the ground attempting to right itself.

You sit up in the mud, scoffing and trying to wipe mud off your face as Arthur does the same.

"Christ Alive..."

Arthur groans, flicking his arm downwards, trying to get the mud off.

You do the same, looking at him with a look of disgust on your face, only for a moment, before you start laughing.

"Well, Mr. Morgan, how very kind of you to dump me in the mud like this."

"Well I didn't mean-"

You laugh and stand up, before you tear off your skirt, now soiled with mud, to reveal your pants underneath it.

"I needed to get that thing off anyway, I was about tired of it."

You reach your hand out, and Arthur takes it, a sort of sheepish grin on his face.

"Well, glad ya ain't too mad at me."

"Nah...you ain't crossed the line just yet cowboy."

Arthur laughs this time and pulls his hand away to run it over his stubble in an attempt to try and get the rest of the mud off.

"I'll be stinkin' for weeks with this stuff, even if I take a damn bath at the hotel."

He sighs and takes his hat off, wiping mud off the brim.

He looks up at you.

"So...Miss L/N...You...sure seem more than capable of takin' care of yourself...I assume you got somewhere you can hide out for a bit until the law gets off you?"

"Course I do."

You laugh and step closer. You take the hat from his hand and gently place it back on his head, pressing your hand to his chest in the process.

"All worried about me there, Mr. Morgan?"

"Worried? No. Curious? Yes."

You offer yet another chuckle and then step around him, letting your hand travel over his shoulder, gently taking it away as you step closer to his horse, and offer it an apple from your bag that had been hidden beneath your dress.

"Well Mr. Morgan...if you're so interested, I suppose you'll have to bump into me again sometime soon, won't you? After all you did save me back there...even if you threw me into the mud afterwards."

"Hey I said-"

"So defensive."

You tease and step back towards him, you flick his hat, making it tilt upwards slightly.

"Send me a letter sometime Mr. Morgan...I could use someone like you for some of my...endeavors. If you're willing that is."

"Depends...You ain't gonna make me dress up and sing the can can are you?"

"No, I wasn't but...now I might."

You laugh and look towards Saint Denis' in the distance.

"Well...Mr. Morgan, if you could do me a favor and drop me off near Rhodes...I think I'd be forever in your debt."

Before Arthur could really register it, that's exactly where he was, stopped in front of the Rhodes train station, holding something you'd given him as he watched you climb onto the train.

A heavy locket, sat in his palm, as well as a handkerchief you'd insisted on giving him, with your initials sewed into the corner of it.

You smile at him, and wave from your seat as the train pulls away, and something within Arthur tells him that it won't be the last time that he sees you.

He couldn't quite remember exactly how he'd managed to end up here. In all complete honesty, the only thing he really knew for certain was that you were....something, that was for sure. Spitfire and kick to you.

He'd see you again. he'd make sure of it.

Okay, so, like I said, this is slightly different than what I write, not by much, but it is a little different, so I hope it was good, and I hope that you enjoyed it! As always, I'm always happy to rewrite something if it doesn't hit the spot just right!

#arthur morgan #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #answered asks #arthur morgan x reader

72 notes · View notes

slxsherwriter · 10 months

Text

Damnation as a Saving Grace

Fandom: 31

Pairing: Doom-head x female reader

Word Count: 2,725

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death and murder

Author's note: So, due to life circumstances, Nano didn't go the way I wanted it. My final word count for the month ended up 12,666. I'm not disappointed with that by any means. This fic ended up being mostly written within the month. I added the last 600 words today. My first shot at writing Doom. I purposely left his lovely, wordy, wanting to seem educated way of speaking out for the time being due to the circumstances. There will be a continuation, and he gets to show off there ;)

The ache and pains that plagued your body were all shoved in the back of your mind, not present as the beat of your heart seemed to keep time with the slam of your feet against the concrete. Your own personal hell. Words had never been more true than when they had been spoken by whoever the hell was running this sick and twisted game. They weren't the focus though either. If you survived, then maybe you would dedicate some time to figuring out who the hell these people were and why they did what they did. If there was a why. But now, when you were trying to find a place to make your last stand, was not the time to narrow down your focus to those that didn't matter.

After a while, the makeshift prison started to look all the same. Something that you knew wasn't true given the few places that you had moved through. It was the panic speaking. And panic was a surefire pathway straight to death. Calming yourself down was easier said than done, of course, but if you wanted to make it out of here alive, you had to force it.

Finding a small space to squeeze that seemed like it would serve as a decent hiding spot for the few moments that you would need it, you forced your body into the space. As quietly as you could, slow, deep breaths were taken in an attempt to slow down the way that you were sucking down air. Think. You had to think.

Without weapons, you were at a bigger disadvantage. Already, you lacked knowledge of your location compared to whoever it was that they had coming after you. Lacking a weapon just left you far more vulnerable than if you could at least defend yourself with something. If you could manage to get an attack in. A big if. This newest guy? The one that you hadn't seen yet? He moved real god damn quiet. Unlike the other Heads that had hunted you down, it didn't seem like he liked to play by taunting and building anticipation and terror. It was far more methodical and controlled. The three people that had made it with you through to the final three hours had been picked off one by one. Without warning and without the pomp and show that you had encountered up until then. Which made it that much more terrifying. You only knew it was a man when your friend had taken the chance to shout out loudly as he had died.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you murmured gently to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. "Think…" A sneak attack would give you the best advantage but how did you sneak attack someone that was practically a ghost? And what were you going to use? A pipe? Could you get something off of the wall without making a lot of sound? It was a thought, one that you might have to seriously entertain and take the risk of with such limited options. There wasn't any scrap metal laying around that you could use. For likely being an abandoned area, it was surprisingly well maintained. Likely for the very reason you were looking around if the people running this game were as smart as they had seemed so far.

"Pipe it is." You glanced up and cocked your head. Could you manage to get up that high? A drop down point would be an even better sneak attack. He would be less prepared to anticipate it. At least you hoped that would be the case. And a reaction to that sort of attack might be a little slower, giving you a proper chance to actually cause a little damage. Maybe enough to incapacitate him enough to get away and get out. A fresh wave of determination came over you, washing away the doubt and the worry. It was your best chance, and if it worked out, you would be able to get out of here. It was all you wanted. Plan in mind. You just had to figure out how it was that you were getting up there and quickly. There was no telling where he was. If he was watching, well, your entire element of surprise would be ruined.

It was a struggle, but you managed to find a small perch that was relatively inaccessible from any sort of high walkway or ladder. It had taken far more time than you would have liked, but the drop down was directly below. Your arms were screaming, muscles burning with the effort that you had needed to exert to get to your spot. Enough so that you were worried about being able to swing the pipe that you had pried off of the wall. Given that it was likely your only chance to get a whack in and escape, you were going to have to make due and give it your all. Survival demanded it.

Again, you had to work on slowing your breathing. Every sound made seemed to echo in your ears, and the exertion had caused you to all but pant again. It felt like each sound you made was a bright, neon beacon hanging over your head, telling him exactly where to find you.

Straining to see anything in the dark or hear anything above your own breathing and beating heart, now it was a game of patience. Something that was incredibly difficult with the sense of anticipation that kept adrenaline pumping through your veins. The creaking and movement of the building in general was enough to send a shiver down your spine, spiking that adrenaline thinking that it was him who had found you. It was a horrid way to exist, ready to jump out of your skin at the slight sound, but you were going to make it through this. If not for anything other than to try and prove these fuckers wrong, to be able to shove it in their face. And maybe, just maybe, figure out how to get a little revenge for the friends that had died for their amusement.

Steps. Careful, measured steps were coming down the hallway from your right. It was all wrong. He hadn't made that much noise up until now. It was almost as if he was purposeful in how he was walking to make sure that you were alerted to your presence. Set on edge, your hands tightened around the cool metal, eyes darting in both directions to see if it was some sort of trick. While things had been straightforward up until now, it didn't mean that they would stay that way. Maybe this was some method to get you to come out of hiding to play. You were sure that they didn't want anyone winning. Heaven forbid. That would cause an issue for their game. You were going to be that exception, though. You were going to survive this.

Nothing. Just the sounds of the careful steps. No man. The hair on the back of your neck stood. What was going on? There was still no appearance after a couple of moments, and it was all wrong. The pipe nearly slipped from your hand as you adjusted your grip, trying to keep your breathing as slow and steady as you possibly could. The steps faded away, but the feeling of urgency and danger did not go away. It heightened instead, the overwhelming feeling of dread just seeping in deeper and deeper. Eyes were on you. You could swear that you felt them, but it would be impossible. Shit. Stay still. You had to stay still. Movement would alert him to where you were. It had to be what he wanted, to draw you out, make you panic, get you running around without a game plan. That would just make you easier prey.

So, you waited. As difficult as it was. Seconds passed in long, drawn out ticks of the clock, making it feel more like minutes for every second. But finally, finally, the lanky frame came into view. Just barely silhouetted against the light, the footsteps were near silent. That let you know the initial thought you had about the audible steps before had likely been right. They had been a purposeful decision meant to draw you out. He hadn't found you. There was a chance that staying would let you win. A slim chance. Which was one that you weren't willing to take. These people couldn't let you live if you did manage to make it through the time limit that had been placed on the game.

Timing was just off as you dropped down onto the man, catching his back and shoulder rather than knocking him completely off of his feet. You grunted as you swung the pipe with as much might as you possibly could before you stopped midswing. Blinking, you tried again but found the same result. You couldn't bring the pipe against his flesh. Frustration mounted, and the fact nearly made you cry. This couldn't be happening. The man turned and went to swing at you in retaliation during that second swing, but he seemed to have the same problem, the punch missing you by a mile.

"Fuck me…" He grunted as he tried swinging again before reaching for a blade. The blade swung by your face but didn't come close to catching any skin. Realization sunk in as you both seemed entirely incapable of harming the other. This had to be some part of the sick joke that was being played on you. There was only one reason that someone couldn't harm another. Soulmates. This fucked up nightmare had just become worse. Maybe having him kill you would have been the better sort of end game.

The pipe dropped from your hand, and you took a step back, but it was the furthest distance that you could manage. Something stopped another movement backward. He was simply staring at you, an unreadable look overtaking his features. An emotion that you couldn't place. Did you even want to? Christ, what did you do with this situation? It wasn't like the two of you could sit down and talk about this like normal people. He had been just ready to run you through with his switchblades, and you had been ready to bash his head, or really any part of his body that you could reach.

"Don't move," he growled out and lifted the blade in his hand, using it to simply point at you this time. "You fucking understand?" You were torn between listening and ignoring the demand that had been made. Just because he couldn't harm you didn't mean that there wasn't others and that he wouldn't be going to get them. Another step back resulted in a rather aggressive sound being released from the man.

"You think I'm going to listen to you?" Your voice came out stronger than you thought it would, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for that. If your voice had come out shaky, you would have felt even worse than you were right now.

"Yeah, you fucking are." He moved closer, that distance that you had established vanished with two quick strides by the man. There was no stopping the wince that came. Logically, now you knew he couldn't hurt you. That didn't stop the emotional and a primal part of your brain reacting to the very real threat that was still perceived. Distance would help you feel more comfortable, as comfortable as one could get in such a situation. That also led to better observations, better decisions, and better outcomes. Swallowing hard, you found yourself nodding in agreement. Just because you agreed didn't mean that you would do it. Figuring that your best course of action would be to follow behind him, hopefully unseen, you had to appear obedient before making the attempt.

"Good. Now, stay fucking put and I'll be right back." One last inspection was given to you before he turned heel and began back down the hallway. You waited just a few moments, listening closely as the steps just began to fade away before you.made your move. The entire maze was disorienting but he made enough sound by the slimmest of margins for you to be able to follow. Was it a safe assumption to think that he would be moving to some sort of exit? Maybe and maybe not. Time would be the only way to tell.

Ahead, the sound of a door being opened echoed out. Well, that spoiled a lot, but it didn't exactly signal a complete end to the spying idea. If you got lucky and the door stayed open. Given how the night had gone, maybe you had used up all of the luck that a person was allowed in a lifetime. But, the risk was well worth the reward.

There was a sliver of light guiding the way, hinting where the almost invisible door was. If you weren't trying to stay quiet, you would have cursed, violently and loudly. That was how these fuckers were slipping around unnoticed. Of course. Nothing to be done with that information now. Rather pointless to focus on it when the important bit was the murmured voice on the other side of the door. For a moment, you thought that there might have been more than one. Straining to hear, eyes closed and leaned as far forward as you cod be without giving yourself away, you realized it was only one. His. Low enough that it was nearly impossible to fully make out each word but the timber of the voice that had just sent shivers down your spine was now unmistakable. Only every second or third word was caught.

He most certainly was talking about you. But was he talking to anyone? Those sick fucks running the thing were clearly watching so he could have some way to communicate without their voices being heard by others. Right? Maybe. Your fingers, weak and injured from the long night, couldn't keep their grasp on the wall, causing you to loudly stumble forward, actually falling right to your knees by the door. Well, that certainly would alert him that you hadn't stayed put like demanded and promised.

The door ripped open, and there he stood, eyes wide and alight with anger.

“Told you to stay the fuck put!” The words came out in a growl as he swiftly reached down and grasped your arm, yanking you upward. “Dumb fucking bitch.” Off balance, the pull that he gave towards rhe room that he was in had you stumbling again, barely able to keep to your feet. You didn't know what was going through his head but he was leading you somewhere and you were far too exhausted at this point to give much more of a fight. If this was the end, so be it.

After a few minutes, you noticed that you didn't hear any other sounds. No voices, no pipes banging, no hissing of steam. It was far more quiet than any other section of the hell maze had been. That piqued your interest just a little bit. Either he was taking you somewhere private to kill you or…

The possibility sparked that survival instinct once more, and your eyes moved to the tall man that was just ahead of you, jerking you around by the ironclad grip he had on your wrist. Could he possibly be getting you out of here?

“You say a word, I'll change my mind about it all. One fucking word and I'll happily give you to to those two clown brothers.” The words were final and for once, you decided that it was best to listen to what you were being told. It seemed that maybe, your luck hadn't run out entirely. You didn't know what this meant or what his ultimate plans were for you. Maybe you were better off dying but it was an unknown and one that you weren't willing to chance. “Rich old fucks are gonna end up taking half my fucking pay for this shit…” Getting outside served better for you to have the chance to escape anyway. Following your twisted, psychotic soulmate was the only path forward that you saw. Hopefully it would work out.

#slasher imagines #slasher writing #horror writing #slasher x reader #slasher x you #richard brake characters #nano 2023 #31 #doomhead #doom-head #doomhead x reader #doom-head x reader #doom head x reader

69 notes · View notes

adampalharine-art · 11 months

Text

Day 023

The darkness before him scares him, Mikey touches his face just to make sure there was nothing there.

Mikey: – No, No, No, No. – He feels the tears in his eyes, he lowers them towards the babies in his lap, trying to see them, but the emptiness still stares at him. He feels tears now rolling down his cheeks. – Damn...- a sob shakes his body. - DAMN IT!

He hears the babies' scared cries, getting scared by that. Had he... scared them, had he hurt them? He couldn't say. He didn't know anything.

Lou Jitsu: – Calm down boy. Calm! – he feels that the man was taking the babies away, hearing some cries of protest. – I know it might be scary but...

Mikey: – No! It doesn't scare me, but... But how am I going to protect them now? How... – then he realizes something, turning his face towards the man's voice. – Please... You need to help me.

Lou Jitsu: – What? As? I don't know how to cure you...

Mikey: – No! Not with my eyes. Help me protect my brothers. – He asks in desperation. Feeling when the man moves away. – I... I know you are the greatest warrior in the Nexus battle, you are a great fighter... You can defend them. – He feels his heart racing when he doesn't hear any words, just your rapid breathing, getting out of bed, kneeling down and placing your head on the floor, in supplication. – Please... Please... I can't do this alone, I need help... Please.

The silence lasts for a few seconds, which to Mikey seem like minutes, maybe hours. Until he finally feels the touch on his shoulder.

Lou Jitsu: – I'll help, even if you didn't ask me... These little ones have become my responsibility. – hearing that makes all that weight leave Mikey's chest.

Mikey: – Thank you... Thank you... – he says softly, really relieved.

He sighs, extremely worried, he really didn't expect that reaction from the boy. He wasn't going to lie, a part of him was rooting for him to say he was the children's father, a dark part of him that wanted to free himself from that responsibility.

Lou Jitsu: – Now, I need you to take a deep breath and explain to me what is happening. Who really are you?

Mikey: – It's... Complicated.

Lou Jitsu: – More complicated than being turned into a rat by a half-goat alchemist?

Mikey: – Much more.

Lou Jitsu: – Well... We have time. And I'm open to whatever crazy stuff you can tell me.

Mikey remains silent for a few moments, organizing his thoughts.

Mikey: – Okay... – takes a deep breath. – But I warn you... that it is not a story with a happy ending, nor with a happy beginning.

#mikeyscrimesmas #risetober 2023 #risetober #rise tmnt #rise turtles #rise of the turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rise of the tmnt #rise mikey #rise splinter

144 notes · View notes

jaycewrites-192000 · 1 year

Text

Heartbreak

Summery: Little sis experiences her first heartbreak and doesn't come home. How will the twins react?

Paring(s): Platonic!Nahoya Kawata x Platonic!Reader x Platonic!Souya Kawata

Rating: SFW

Warning(s): Angst(happy ending), harsh language, two-year timeskip, no one dies

While the Kawata twins were protective of their younger sister, they could not control her every move. They had no real say in what their sister did in her personal life, especially when it came to her romantic relationships. But that doesn't mean they wouldn't step in whenever they felt that their sister was being taken advantage of.

However...when they did eventually have to step in, they wouldn't have until it was too late...

"A date?"

A tall male tilts his head, his scarred lip slightly pouts in concentration. "You actually let your sister go out with someone?" He laughs. The young man from across the counter readjusted his hair net, already feeling a headache coming along from how tightly it pressed his blue curls to his scalp. "Hakkai, I can't keep my sister from dating someone." He turns to meet his eyes. "But I'll kill him if he hurts her." His voice deepened into a more intimidating one.

"Hey! Hey! You're starting to sound like me, little bro!" His older twin spoke up from one of the tables he was cleaning. "W-well, I think it's great that you're so trusting of her." A blonde male said nervously. "Of course we trust her Takemitchy." Said the younger twin. "But that don't mean we trust who she's with."

"Damn right!" His brother yelled. "I can tell that motherfucker got tricks!"

"Smiley, don't scare the costumers." The blue hair twin says calmly. "But yeah, I agree."

"Then uh...why not stop her?" Takemichi asks. "If you have a feeling he might pull something?" The younger twin leans on the table. "We tried. Then sis got all up in our faces about it." He explains. "But that's what happens when you fall in love with someone. You'll defend them to your last breath, even if they treat you like shit. As her brothers, we can only do so much. She's our family, but family can break apart when it comes to stuff like this. So we're taking a step back...for now."

"Angry, you want him dead just as much as I do, yeah?" Smiley asks. Angry nods. "But we promised not to get involved." Angry further explains. "Not until we're really sure about our suspicions. We might end up doing more damage."

And that's how it was from the start, the twins agreed to stay out of it. They would only get involved if their sister told them just what was happening, and if not that, if they saw it happen for themselves...

Later that night, the twins were awaiting their sister's return. She should have been back hours ago, it didn't help that she didn't so much as call or text either one of them. Now their frustrations turned into worry and concern.

"Still nothing." Angry said as he moved his phone away from his ear. "You?" Smiley shook his head, his grin haven faltered. "Nope. Looks like we're gonna have to take matters into our own hands." Angry nods, the hand that he held his phone shook as he placed it back into his pocket. Without another word, the twins left their home, and hurried onto their bikes. They raced off into the night, in search of their little sister.

The very first stop, was Y/n's boyfriend's home. Smiley and Angry didn't need to find out from her just where he lived. They knew it as soon as they started dating, because of course they did. Why wouldn't they? As overbearing as it was, they were grateful for their paranoia and suspicions in the long run.

The two hopped off their bikes and walked up to the entrance of the house, Smiley banged on the door. "Tanaka! Get your ass out here!" He yelled, not caring if he was disturbing the neighbors. After a minute, the two could hear the door unlocking, opening to reveal Y/n's boyfriend, Tanaka.

"Oh shit-"

"Yeah you better believe oh shit." Smiley grabbed his shirt collar and dragged him as he walked, Angry was quick to follow. "Hey man! Wait a second! Just wait-" Smiley threw Tanaka up against a near by wall, still clutching onto his shirt. "Where the fuck is our sister? Huh!?" Smiley yelled, grinning, teeth bared like a feral animal.

"And I suggest you answer quick, motherfucker. My little bro is getting antsy." Angry glared at Tanaka, tears brimming his bright blue eyes. Tanaka raised his shaking hands defensively. "I-I don't know man!"

"Wrong answer!" Smiley delivered a strong left hook to Tanaka's face. Blood dribbled down his face from the sudden impact, Tanaka whimpered in pain. "Last chance! Where the fuck is she!?"

"L-Like I said!" Tanaka whimpered. "I don't know! She left after I..."

"After you what!?" Smiley growled. "I-I broke up with her! That's all! I swear! I don't know where she went! I swear!" Smiley yanked Tanaka off the wall and threw him down to the ground. Tanaka groaned as he hit the hard ground, he curled in on himself, incase Smiley continued to beat him.

Instead Smiley stormed back to his bike. But before Tanaka could rest, Angry crouched down to his level, in a soft voice he said. "If I catch you around her again...I fucking kill you. Got it?" Tanaka nods furiously, blocking his face from any blows that he might receive from the blue hair demon.

The twins head back home, hoping that in the time they were gone, their sister would have return. To their surprise, they saw their leader leaning against his bike in front of the house. The twins parked before approaching him. "Mikey-Kun? Why are you here?" Angry asks. Mikey smiles. "Just dropping off your little sis."

"She's here!?" Smiley gaped. "Yeah, Emma brought her back to our place. She looked in pretty bad shape. Something happen?" Mikey asks. "Her piece of shit boyfriend dumped her." Angry answers.

"Yikes. I suck at relationships, good thing she didn't tell me anything about it. I would be no help at all." Mikey laughed.

"Thanks for bringing her back. We owe you big time." Said Smiley.

"Don't think nothing of it. Just helping out some friends." Mikey got on his bike. "I'd go easy on her, see you around." He said before driving off. The twins looked at each other before heading inside.

They walked to their sister's room and knocked on the door. From inside came a faint, "come in". The twins walked inside her room, their sister was laying in bed, covers up over her head. Angry was the first to speak. "Hey, you alright sis?" He asked softly. There was no answer. "We know what happened." Smiley said next. "Just so you know, we took care of the bastard."

Y/n poked her head out from the covers. "You kicked his ass for me?" She asked. The twins nodded. "Damn right. He broke our sister's heart, he's lucky we didn't kill the fucker." Said Smiley. Y/n smiled slightly. "Thanks you two. I just...I just don't know what I did wrong. I was so good to him. And he just dumps me out of nowhere!"

"Asshole." Smiley muttered. "He doesn't deserve you sis. You are way too good for the likes of him. He was a pussy anyway."

"Smiley's right. He didn't even put up a fight. He practically pissed himself when he saw us." Said Angry. Y/n chuckled. "He did, huh?" She sat up and wiped her teary eyes. "He never was much of a fighter."

"He couldn't protect you while we weren't around. You're better off." Said Smiley. "Eh." Y/n shrugs. "I got you two to protect me until I find someone who actually has some balls." That made the older twin laugh. "We'll make sure you pick the right guy next time." Said Angry.

"Oh no. You guys will chase everyone I meet away! I'll make that choice then let you guys make your examinations afterwards."

"You won't like our opinion either way." Angry muttered. "Hey as long as you don't kill them." Says Y/n with another shrug. "No promises." Smiley tells her.

"How about we take you to your favorite arcade? Will that cheer you up?" Angry asks. Y/n nods her head. "It would." Smiley pats her head. "Alright then, first thing tomorrow we'll go. Until then, get some sleep." The twins started to walk out of the room.

"Hey, you guys?"

The twins turned back.

"Thank you, I don't know what I'd do without you both."

The twins both smiled. "Anytime sis."

#nahoya kawata x reader #nahoya kawata #souya kawata x reader #souya kawata #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader

179 notes · View notes

moxiebustion · 9 months

Text

I had an idea for the Old Guard and Sherlock Holmes a few months back, which goes like this.

John Watson is an immortal.

He doesn't remember the year he was born, but it was after Andy and just before Quynh; and in any case the calendar has changed over more than a couple of times since then.

He is, in an incredibly unlikely scenario, killed by Andy the first time, because this was way back in Andy's crusading days and there have been plenty of invaders to Albion. They kill each other and dumb chance has one of them getting washed away by a river or something and hey, look at that, no dreams, because technically they have met before. Hardly a meeting to engender the warm fuzzies in any case. Life goes on.

Andy goes back to her wandering.

Watson, after many aimless years believing himself to be cursed to be a walking ghost, watching all the people he falls in love with die, falls in with a leader of men - a truly unique mind - and it lights a spark and gives him a purpose, finally. When the king dies, he makes John swear that he will defend his lands and his people until his last breath, which, you know, might be a while. Watson vows it, and Watson is not a man who breaks promises.

Sometime in the ensuing centuries and far to the east, Andy finds Quynh (or more accurately, Quynh finds her) and oh, hey, those dreams were about an actual person, they're real, Andy is not alone. There is much rejoicing, etc, etc, and Quynh says hey, we might have to go find the other one.

And Andy is like... what the fuck?

So they head back west and lo and behold, it's the damn random soldier that wouldn't quit and got tossed into a river for his trouble. And he's amazed, astounded, enthralled. Well, he is after they've clashed swards a few times; in Watson's defense, he has no idea what the fuck is happening. He's been haunted by weird dreams of a lady getting it on with his murderer for years and, you know, this is centuries pre-Jung, he has no explanation at all for this except that he might be going ever so slightly, benignly insane.

So, anyway. Blood is spilled, then swords are disarmed, explanations are had, amazed, astounded, enthralled etc etc.

Andy says you should come with us.

John, channeling his inner Hobbit two and a half millennia before JRR Tolkien was even conceived offer her a polite thanks ever so much, but, um, no.

Andy's like, what the fuck?

And Watson is like, well, I made a promise, and you don't break promises, do you? I swore to protect these lands and by gum, I'm going to do just that, thank you.

And Quynh says, aren't you bored though?

And Watson just give her a slight smile because at this point he's had three wives and two husbands and has raised innumerable orphans and says well, no. Not really. Wherever I go I find interesting people. Truly unique minds. My king rises again, you see. And so do all my friends. They rise again and again. I see them everywhere, in every genius, every artist, every eccentric who takes a chisel to the universe and cracks it open. They're always there if you care to look. And I swore I would protect them and I'll keep my word, so I will.

Andy looks at him like he's insane, but shrugs and says, well, when you change your mind come and find us, we'll be out there doing some actual good.

And Watson just gives her a little smile and said gods go with you then, Andromache the Scythian. You'll have a hope and a sword arm with me if needed, but otherwise I'm staying right here, thank you very much.

And that's that.

Andy expects Watson to join them eventually. He never does. It drives her fucking mental, which means she respects the hell out of him for it.

Time goes on. Life goes on. Seven husbands and three wives later, Watson meets the new guys. He adores Nicky and Joe - he's known as Galvagin by this period of history, and Nicky and Joe are fascinated by this immortal who has travelled every continent in earth (and married on them), but never wanders. He has a home. He has people who know he's immortal in his home. His spouses all knew, so do most of his children. They keep the secret. He becomes a local cryptid of sorts. Oh, yes, that's just the old soldier's house, ha ha, they say he's immortal, ha ha. And no one ever examines the joke too closely. Besides, some old-fashioned jingoism helps keep the secret too. He's their immortal, isn't he? Proper British and all that. It's not as if he's some foreigner.

The Old Guard come and go through the years. Sometimes Watson will join them on a grand adventure or a fight for a few years, but he'll always head home. Sometimes they'll lodge with him and explore every nook and cranny he knows of the isles. Andy and Watson's relationship becomes strained after Quynh is lost, because look at you, why do you defend them?? But Watson gave his word and he will not break it, even for Andy. What people are without sins, he asks, without treachery and cruelty and ignorance? The Old Guard has helped plenty of pretty shady regimes in their time. They can only be made better, only helped to change. He will search every inch of the coast, he promises, he will chase every rumour and every hint that comes to him. He will sail every boat that might conceivably travel across where she might be. He will try. But he will not leave.

He does help search. But eventually the others, grieving and in despair, must leave again. Watson promises to keep his eyes peeled in the meantime, a solitary watchman.

Watson doesn't see them again - except for letters - until the advent of Booker. He connects with Booker over his grief - oh, how many children has Watson lost! Spouses too! And over an astounding number of stories of unique minds, his resurrected friends, that Watson has found over the years. Watson is himself a very interesting man, and a good storyteller and Booker shares this love of stories. He tells him if he ever needs respite, he can come to Watson's home for a while.

Booker opts to stay with the Old Guard only because he still doesn't like the English very much, and also because running into jobs and missions sometimes distracts from the wailing grief inside his head.

When they finally all meet again, Victoria is on the throne, steam trains are ascendant and Watson has shacked up with another unique mind at 221B Baker Street.

He's an interesting one, Watson, who is now Watson properly on paper. And he smiles. He has found another friend, risen again.

Why John? Andy asked.

Boring, Joe says, who is still somewhat smarting over Joseph Jones.

John shrugs and says: There's enough Johns to make it commonplace, and I'm pretty commonplace. And Watson because, what son am I, where is my father? I do not remember.

Besides, he adds ruefully, no one uses Galvagin these days. No one east of Wales can pronounce Gwalchmei correctly...

(Booker nods in fellow feeling).

And Gawain just sounds pretentious. So... John.

It is a good name, Nicky Smith smiles.

And in the corner Sherlock is losing his goddamn mind because he had a) no fucking idea what kind of mismatched pidgin they are speaking and b) every single logical deduction he tries to make about these people all make perfect sense until they open their mouths and start talking about their lives, and then it's like OUT OF CHEESE ERROR, REINSTALL UNIVERSE AND REBOOT.

The problem with John Watson is that you have to eliminate the impossible, and the marker for that keeps fucking moving.

(Mycroft, on the other hand, as this era's Copley, sweats bullets every time John gets within spitting distance of the Stone of Scone)

#the old guard #sherlock holmes #john watson #immortal watson au #andromache the scythian #quynh the old guard #nicolo di genova #nicky di genova #yusuf al kaysani #joe al kaysani #sebastien le livre #booker #tog #the three garridebs would run so much differently in this au #watson resurrects after being shot in the head #and holmes is like I HAVE CONNECTED TWO DOTS #and watson says fondly you didn't connect shit sherlock

32 notes · View notes

shiranuigenma · 1 month

Text

Just Go - GenRai

TEEN+ // ALSO ON AO3 Words: 1,327 Warnings: Angst, implied/referenced character death, Genma is drunk and sad

Umm.... So I found this in my WIPs on my google docs... it was already complete... So here's your reminder that even though I haven't actually written anything completely new in a few years, I can still break your hearts. :)

Genma has made a mistake.

He realizes that now as the other man lays him out flat, his head spinning from a combination of the alcohol and the hit he just took, the dirty bar floor sticky and hard beneath his aching cheek. Why had he gotten into this mess, he asks himself as he pushes himself up with a wince, groaning when the other man kicks him back down, boot heavy on his back.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demands, pushing harder when Genma tries to get up again, and Genma groans at the pressure on his ribs. "What, you start a fight you can't finish and now you're trying to run?" Oh, man, he is way too drunk for this.

"Get off me," he mutters, swinging wildly at the other man's leg, a swift kick to the side subduing him once more. "Get off!"

"Hey!" Relief floods through him when a new voice joins the fray, and he takes a gasping breath when the foot lifts from his back. Raidou. "What are you doing?"

"He came at me," the guy tries defending himself, but Raidou's not hearing any of it, and suddenly he's on the floor by Genma, out cold.

"Come on," Raidou says, grabbing Genma's hand and pulling him to his feet, turning his head to examine the swelling of his cheek, already beginning to bruise. "Damn, he got you good. What happened?"

"Nothing," Genma mutters, half-heartedly swatting his hand away, stumbling into Raidou's side when he tries to take a step toward the exit. He grumbles a pathetic attempt at a protest when Raidou wraps an arm around him to keep him steady. "Stop, Rai, I'm fine."

"Fine?" Raidou scoffs, tightening his grip when Genma tries to push him away. "Please, Genma, you haven't been sober for a week, and I don't believe for a second this is the first fight you've gotten into in that time. You are not fine." Genma has no response - Raidou isn’t wrong. But he doesn't know how else to deal with everything that's happened.

The thing is, Genma's not an idiot. He's a shinobi - he knows that death isn't just normal, it's expected, but something about this one had hit him harder than any other loss he had ever experienced. Perhaps it was because he'd always been so careful to distance himself, never letting anyone get too close, but he was human, after all, and everybody craves connection... so he'd let someone in. And gods, what a mistake that had been.

In hindsight, coming to the bar tonight had probably been a mistake, too, but now all he wants is to stay here and keep drinking. Instead, he allows Raidou to lead him away, through the quiet streets to his apartment. Neither of them say another word for a long while, and Genma is oddly okay with it - there's not much to say, anyway, and definitely nothing that could make any of this any better.

"Rai..." Genma looks up at him, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlight, and he's never seen anything so beautiful... and so absolutely heartbreaking. "Rai, why are you here?"

"I'm here for you," he answers simply, glancing down at him. The small, sad smile on his face makes Genma want to cry. "You can push me away all you want, Gen, but I'm always going to be here for you." That hurts, in ways he can't even begin to put words to, and he draws closer to Raidou as they take the steps up to his apartment door, releasing him only to unlock the front door and push it open before pulling him close once more.

Genma can't remember the last time he had allowed himself this simple comfort, the warmth of Raidou pressed against his side - all he knows is that he has missed this, and he does not want it to end. So he clings to it, clings to Raidou as long as he can, until Raidou delivers him to his bed and pulls away. He feels empty, utterly hollow as he watches Raidou walk away, too drunk and too tired to give chase.

"Stay," he mumbles before he can stop himself, and Raidou pauses in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at him once more. That smile is back, and despite the sight of Raidou turning and walking over to him, laying on the bed beside him, he feels something inside of him shatter. "Please... just stay." His voice breaks as he pulls Raidou in, burying his face in his chest and repeating that single word like it's the only one he knows. "Stay."

It's what he can't say that fills what little space remains between them, heavy on the tip of his tongue, catching in his throat. Not just tonight. Please, Raidou, please I'm begging you don't ever leave me again. But he can't say it - because all the reasons Genma wants Raidou to stay are all the reasons he knows he can't.

"I love you," he chokes out, fists clenching around the fabric of Raidou's shirt, and then he releases him, looking up to meet his eyes. His own burn with tears. He shouldn't have asked him to stay. "But you can't be here. You need to go."

"Genma-"

"I said go!" Genma is out of the bed in an instant, stumbling over his own feet as he backs away. This is too much, the sight of him sitting there on his bed, looking more hurt than he has ever seen him, and for a brief moment, he feels a twinge of regret - but he also knows he is right to do this, even if it is killing him.

"Not until you tell me why," Raidou says, standing and walking over to him, stopping when Genma takes another step back. "You don't get to tell me you love me and then shove me out the door without at least telling me why."

"Because you died!" Genma yells, and actually saying it out loud steals the breath right from his lungs. He doubles over with a harsh gasp, wrapping his arms around himself and clutching at his ribs hard enough to bruise. He has never wanted to die as much as he does in that moment, the agony of it sending him to his knees with a broken sob. "You're dead, Rai, and I... I can't. I can't do this. Please. Please."

Silence falls over the room, broken only by his sobbing, gasping breaths, the pain that had made its home in his chest tightening around his heart, slipping between the cracks in the fragile pieces of himself he'd been trying so hard to hold together and breaking them apart once more. This has wrecked him, in a way he had once sworn he would never let himself be wrecked, in a way he's still not entirely sure he'll survive - in a way he's not sure he even wants to survive.

"Genma..." Raidou kneels in front of him, and his arms wrapping around him feels so warm, so real, that he can't help but let himself sag forward against him, pressing his face to his chest once more. "I loved you, too, you know." His voice breaks, and he holds Genma closer. "I loved you, too."

"Don't." He knows it's not real, that his mind is creating this hallucination, telling him what he wants to hear - in life, Raidou had never wanted Genma the way Genma wanted him. Death didn't change that. "Please, Rai, just go."

Exhaustion settles deep into Genma's bones as Raidou releases him, and he can't bear to watch as he stands and leaves him. Again. For good. He expects it to hurt - to feel the anguish of losing the love of his life all over again, but instead, he just feels empty.

And he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that with Raidou gone, that feeling will never go away.

#genrai #genma shiranui #raidou namiashi #my writing #this is not a brand new fic but it is new to you #and there might be more where this came from once i finish going through my google docs lol #the angst queen returns

8 notes · View notes

marksbear · 2 years

Note

Hey great blog It's a blessing to find a male reader blog in tumblr can I request a steven strange with top male reader who is a human and stephen meets him at another universe and fucks up during a mission so the reader can't go back to his own universe so stephen brings him back to the sanctum to make it up to him?

Hey thank you! Warnings! Lime, Western reader, Power bottom Stephen. and etc

STEPHEN STRANGE X MALE READER.

"Now what the fuck." You say to yourself. As you look around at the location you are in. You were just about to go on a ride with your gang with the horses to rob a bank in 1865 or better known as the 19th century. But now you are looking at a bunch of people arguing with one another. You start to walk backwards when you hit something or you should say someone. You turn around and flinch back when you see someone green and big. "What in the name of god are you!" You shout out to him.

"Great strange. You had one job and it was to get an object that can save this place. BUT you brought back a damn cowboy!" Tony shouts frustrated looking at Stephen. Stephen opens his mouth to defend himself but Steve cuts him off. "Stark calm down. He actually might be useful." He looks at the man up and down looking at how he dressed and what he sounds like. "I'm guessing you're from the 80s ?" Steve ask. "Well duh." He answers with a tone that says are you stupid or something? Clint and Natasha laugh and leave the room. "Well strange hes your problem now." Nick says while signaling everyone to leave and follow him. Which leaves the stranger and the Doctor alone "You one of dem devil people aren't ya?" The stranger asks looking at Doctor strange eyeing him up and down. The doctor lets out a huge sigh feeling this is gonna be a headache.

They have been trying for hours to get the stranger back to his universe but nothing works. Doctor strange kept trying to focus but Y/n keeps acting like a kid trying to explore and ask questions. "They don have one of these where I come from." Y/n says while looking at one of Tony's suits. "Yeah I know" Doctor strange says without even turning around to see what he's looking at.

"I give up." Strange says dropping his head down on the desk sighing in defeat. He looks up to see what the stranger is doing. Hes just staring outside mumbling under his breath. "So you're a cowboy?" The stranger nods and turns to look strange. "Me name is Y/n L/n. I'm the leader of g/n. Some folks call me and my friends outlaws. But were just tryin to live just like dem." The comment makes Stephen heart ache a little and sees Y/n more like a person than just a mistake he made. Stephen opens a portal and brings Y/n in. "Can ye stop makin dem devil circles?" Stephen laughs and shows Y/n around the sanctum. "Cool place ya got Devil man." "My name is Stephen strange not devil man." Stephen says annoyed looking at Y/n and that causes Y/n to smirk but apologies. "Soo are ye gonna take me home or what?" Y/n ask looking at Stephen who's shaking his head no. "But to make it up to you..." Stephen pushes y/n into a portal. Y/n falls onto the bed and the surprise makes him yelp. Stephen gets on top Y/n kissing him. The two make out for a while until they need to breathe. Y/n looks astonished that he just kissed a man and liked it. "Y-you kissed me!?" He looks at Stephen. "W-we can both get in trouble w-were both men-." Stephen cuts him off by making out with him again. They pull away with a string of saliva following them. Stephen gives him one last kiss before taking both of their clothes off. Stephen grabs a bottle of lube and squirts it onto Y/n cock. Y/n flinches at the coldness down there and moans with Stephen jerking and rubbing his cock. Once Y/n cock was all lubed up Stephen lines himself up and slowly goes down on it.

"F-Fuck Stephen!"

#doctor strange #Stephen strange #x male reader #doctor strange x male reader #stephen strange x male reader #the bear club #marvel x male reader

129 notes · View notes

legolasbadass · 1 year

Text

Office Hours, Part 30

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague…

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: T

“I have some news,” I announce to Beatrice on the phone the next day as I stand in my living room, sorting through my books to try and get rid of a few. Richard and I agreed that we both needed to do so; otherwise, the house would turn into a maze of books. So far, however, I have only managed to part with three novels, despite the hundreds of tomes in my flat.

“You’re engaged!” Beatrice practically shouts.

“What? No!” I reply with an incredulous laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why would that be ridiculous? You and Richard are perfect for each other.”

Despite the ridiculousness of her hypothesis, I smile, then say, “Richard and I are going to live together.”

Beatrice’s squeal is so loud I have to pull away from my phone. “Oh my God—really? This is so exciting! When did this happen?”

“He asked me last night,” I reply, still smiling.

“Just like that?”

“Well, no, not exactly…” My smile fades away, and I take a deep breath, trying to dislodge the knot in my chest. “It turns out what Richard was hiding from me is that he received an offer for a visiting research post … at Harvard.”

“What? So, wait—I’m confused—he’s moving to Boston?”

“In September. For around eight months.”

“Oh, Lor, I’m so sorry….”

I shrug, though my voice falters as I say, “It’s okay—I mean, I’m really going to miss him, but we’ll make it work.”

“If anyone can survive long distance it’s you two.” She pauses, then sighs in annoyance. “But damn, I can’t believe he didn’t tell you sooner!”

Despite my vexation, I hasten to defend him. “He only got the official offer yesterday, and he said he didn’t know how to tell me because he was afraid he would lose me.”

“That man is so precious,” Beatrice replies with a hint of longing, causing me to chuckle.

“Of course, I would have liked for him to tell me sooner, but I can’t be mad at him,” I go on, absentmindedly running my fingers over the spines of the books before me. “Or should I be mad? I don’t know … I’ve been asking him for weeks if he was alright and for news about his work with Dr Griffin, and he would just shrug it off—or lie! But he didn’t want to keep it from me—he just didn’t want to hurt me. And how could I be mad at him for that?”

“Just because you’re not mad at him doesn’t mean that you’re okay with the fact he didn’t tell you.”

“Yeah … I just want to be as understanding as he was with me when we first started dating, you know?”

“And I think that’s so great of you! Really, I don’t think I would have handled that as well as you,” Beatrice says with a chuckle.

“Well, I did cry like a baby, too, so…”

“Oh, honey,” she coos. “I’m sure he understood.”

Recalling his soft kisses and tight hugs, I nod to myself. “Yeah. He’s really upset, too, and torn—he’s not sure what he wants to do. But I told him he has to take this opportunity, otherwise, he’ll regret it. And I reassured him that we would find a way to make it work and we’d savour every moment we have together until then. That’s when he asked me to move in.”

“So when are you moving in?” Beatrice asks excitedly, knowing just what to say to make me feel better.

“Probably right after the spring term. We only have three weeks until the term starts, which doesn’t give me enough time to sublet my flat, pack, and get settled there earlier.”

“You can count on my help on your moving day.”

“That’s sweet of you, but you really don’t have to! You’re moving yourself so you’ll already be super busy—”

“Nonsense, I’ll be there to help and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind,” she replies emphatically, causing me to smile.

“You really are the best, you know?” A sudden knock on the door surprises me. “Hold on—someone’s at the door.”

“We can talk later. I’ve actually got some chores to do and I should get up my butt before it becomes flatter than a pancake.”

I laugh, then say, “Alright, move that butt and we’ll talk later.”

My heart is considerably lighter as I hang up and make my way toward the door. After fiddling with the old lock for a moment, I open the door, only to find my parents waiting for me on the other side with wide smiles.

“Oh—hi!” I exclaim in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Do we need a formal invitation to visit our daughter now?” Mum asks with a chuckle as she shakes off the rain from her plaid coat. Dad merely continues to smile at me as he squeezes my arm.

“Of course not,” I reply, choosing to ignore the edge in her tone. “Come in! What brings you here?”

As I close the door behind them, Dad says, “We were visiting a friend of your mum’s not too far from here, and we thought we haven’t seen Lorelei in a while—so here we are!”

“And I’m glad you are!” I say with a smile, though I realize I have to tell them I will be moving in with Richard, and my stomach twists itself into knots in anticipation of their reactions. I thought I would have more time to prepare for this conversation. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Dad opens his mouth to reply as he shakes off his coat, but then his eyes land on the open boxes in the living room. “What’s with the boxes?”

There goes my plan to soften him with a beer.

“Are you moving?” Mum immediately follows up.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” I take a deep breath and cross my arms over my chest as if to shield my heart from their judgment. “Richard asked me to move in with him. And I said yes.”

“Really?” Mum says as she watches me intently.

“Yes.” Neither of them speaks for a little while, so I add, “Is that a good ‘really’ or a bad ‘really’?”

“I’m just surprised! I mean … it’s fast, isn’t it?”

I gulp. “The thing is … Richard was offered a visiting researcher post at Harvard. He’ll be moving there in September for a little under a year.”

My parents exchange a confused look, then turn back to me. “So, he’s moving away … but you’re also moving in with him?”

“Yes. I mean, he’s not moving away forever. That’s temporary.”

“Still, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dad asks.

I open my mouth to respond, but Mum interjects, “I think what your dad is trying to say is that … long-distance relationships can be difficult. I know you both love each other very much, but that might not be enough once he’s miles away on another continent. We wouldn’t want you to rush into this and end up heartbroken and homeless if it doesn’t work out.”

“Don’t worry—I know this is a big, and I know long-distance relationships aren’t easy. But Richard and I have discussed it and we really want this. It really makes it easier to accept he’ll be moving away when we’re taking this important step together. Besides, when you know something is right, what’s the point in taking things slow?” When neither of them objects, I say, “Dad, you told me once that it took you just a few months of knowing Mum to realize you wanted to marry her. I feel the same way about Richard.”

Dad looks at me for a few moments before taking a deep breath.“Richard is a good man,” he says, and those simple words warm my heart.

Mum softens, and she glances at Dad before replying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I think it’s wonderful—but I’m your mum and I can’t help but fret.” For a moment, none of us speaks, but then Mum sighs, and a look passes over her face as if she is just now digesting the news. “You’re really okay with him moving to America?”

“It doesn’t matter whether or not I’m okay with it. It’s not my decision to make. I’m heartbroken but I really am happy for him—he deserves this opportunity!” Mum steps toward me and tentatively reaches out to squeeze my arm, but when a trembling sigh escapes me, she pulls me into her arms and squeezes me tight, comforting me in a way only a mother can. “I love Richard so much. It might not last—you’re right—but I owe it to him and to myself to believe that it will. At times, it scares me—I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love him. And I’ve never lived with a partner before—I have no idea what to expect! But Richard isn’t afraid. He’s in one hundred percent, and I have to meet him halfway. I want to meet him halfway, even if it means I’m not following my plan,” I say, my heart hammering uncontrollably in my chest.

I have never liked uncertainty. I have always liked to know where I am headed—to follow a well-laid path free of surprises—but now, my life is a web of unpredictability. Can Richard and I weather the distance and remain as close as we are now? Or will the novelty of this new chapter fade, leaving us with the bitter reality of separation? Part of me selfishly wishes Richard had never been in contact with Dr. Griffin and received this offer from Harvard so that everything would remain as it is. I wish he could stay here in Oxford with me. Everything would be simpler. But I know life does not work that way. Life is like a tangled ball of wool, ensnared in knots and loops, and sometimes, in order to untangle it, it has to become even messier first. I can only hope that the thread I am now following will lead me to the right place.

Worry still clouds Mum’s eyes, but eventually, she offers me a soft smile. “As long as you’re certain this is what you want and you’re happy, then I support your decision, darling.” Then she turns to Dad and says, “Can you believe this? Our little girl is moving in with her boyfriend.”

“I’m not a little girl—I’m turning 30 soon!”

“Don’t remind us!” Dad exclaims with a groan, causing me to laugh. “I think I’ll have that drink now.”

***

The house is quiet when I slip inside, a box full of books in my arms. The smell of garlic and tomatoes fills the air, awakening my already rumbling stomach, but the kitchen is dark and quiet. I frown. Richard always listens to music when he cooks.

“Hey—I’m back!” I exclaim as I kick off my loafers, then make my way further into the house.

To my surprise, I find Richard in the living room, stretched out on the sofa as he stares up at the ceiling. He seems lost in his thoughts, and the deep frown wrinkling his forehead tells me they are not pleasant thoughts. When he notices my presence, he offers me a soft smile, but it does not reach his eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.”

I frown and set the box on the coffee table. “Are you alright?”

He nods but avoids my gaze, and when I reach out to caress his arm, he says, “You really think I should accept the offer?”

Surprised by the vulnerability and uncertainty with which he speaks these words, it takes me a moment to answer. “Well, it’s not my decision to make, but … yes, I do think you should accept. I saw how excited you are about the project when we talked about it last night.” When he does not respond, I sit on the coffee table so as to face him. “Darling, talk to me.”

With a sigh, he slowly rises and looks deep into my eyes, his large hands coming to rest on my thighs. I suddenly realize just how tired and stressed he seems; the low light accentuates the dark circles under his eyes, and his tousled hair bears the evidence of his restless hands.

“I’m sorry for putting you through this…”

“Don’t be,” I hasten to say, swallowing heavily. “This is such an exciting opportunity.”

“I just … I’m worried you’ll resent me for it.”

“Why would I?” I respond with an incredulous chuckle, confused but also devastated by the fear that overshadows his usually bright eyes.

“Because … because I’d be choosing my career over you—”

“What? No—you’re not choosing your career over me,” I reassure him as I reach for one of his hands and intertwine our fingers. “This is just something you need to do.” When he does not respond, I squeeze his hand and ask, “Where is this coming from?”

It takes Richard a while to gather his thoughts, and when, at last, he opens up to me, his voice is laced with a level of insecurity I have never seen in him before. “Did I ever tell you about my ex—Rebecca?”

“I think you mentioned her once or twice,” I reply with a shrug, slightly confused.

“We’d been together for three years when I received an offer to come work here in Oxford.” He gulps heavily, and I caress his hand with my thumb, hoping the soothing gesture will offer him the reassurance he needs to go on. “I didn’t expect her to uproot her whole life for me, of course—and I didn’t ask her to, but … she told me I had to choose. She told me it wouldn’t work between us if I accepted the offer and moved to Oxford. But how was I supposed to reject an offer like that?

“I chose to come to Oxford because I knew it was the opportunity I had waited for my whole life, but then I spent years wondering if I had perhaps made the wrong decision. I thought I was going to marry her and—and have kids with her … but I ruined it all.”

I swallow back the ache in my heart and shake my head. “You didn’t ruin anything. Your career means a lot to you and if she couldn’t understand how important this opportunity was for you and didn’t even want to try and make it work, then it simply wasn’t meant to be. Sorry—I know that’s a shitty thing to say,” I add with a nervous chuckle. “What I mean is … the right person won’t make you choose between them and your career. Trust me—I was once afraid of dating a colleague I was crazy about because I worried I’d be jeopardizing my career, but he showed me that I didn’t have to choose between the two.”

Richard chuckles, his lips curling into a soft, irresistible smile before he pulls me onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around me, he holds me tight and rests his head on my chest, and as I caress his hair, I feel his heartbeat slow down to match mine.

“Look, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sad,” I say in a quiet voice as my fears tighten their hold on my throat once more. “I wish you didn’t have to go. But I would hate myself if you rejected this offer because of me, and I think you would, too.”

“I could never hate you,” he replies, his voice even deeper than usual as he reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on the curve of my jaw.

“Yes, you would! And you’d hate yourself, too, for messing up this opportunity. I know you want to work on this project—”

“I do.”

“Then go for it!” I say with a smile that I hope feels sincere despite the tears clouding my eyes. “It won’t be easy—I know that—but I meant everything I said last night. We can get through this. I promise I won’t run away this time.”

Unable to hold back my tears any longer, I bury my face in the crook of his neck, not wanting to make this any harder than it already is for him. His skin is warm against my cheek, and his familiar scent is as comforting as the large hand that now traces circles on my back as he presses a lingering kiss atop my head.

“Promise me you’ll come visit as often as you can?”

“Only if you promise to come back home as often as you can,” I reply into his neck.

With one hand on my chin, Richard gently coaxes me to look up at him, and my heart flutters like it did when we first began dating as the deep and unwavering love shining in his azure gaze caresses me.

“Yes—I promise I’ll come back to you as often as possible,” he replies, causing me to smile as he leans in to nuzzle my nose before capturing my lips in a slow, teasing kiss that fills my whole body with yearning. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him deeper into the kiss and press myself against him until no space remains between us. One kiss becomes two, then three, until we are forced to pull apart for air, our lips swollen and our breathing uneven. With gentle hands, Richard wipes away the tears staining my skin, then presses a series of soft kisses over my puffy cheeks, not stopping until I return his smile. It is even darker in the room now, but the softness in his gaze is clearer to me than ever before.

“What’s with the box?” he asks after a long moment of comfortable silence.

“Hm? Oh—just some books I’m not sure if I should keep or not. I thought I could use your expertise.”

“Well, a sensible person would tell you you don’t need twenty editions of The Lord of the Rings, but I would never tell you that,” he says with a grin. “Besides, I have as many Shakespeare editions, so I think we might be doomed.”

“Why do you have so many Shakespeare anthologies anyway? I mean, it’s the same plays in nearly all of them.”

“But the footnotes and editorial comments are different!” he exclaims.

“I don’t know if I should be concerned or if I love you even more for that,” I say playfully, my heart already considerably lighter than it was moments before.

Richard grins. “Oh, I think you know.” I am still giggling when he kisses me, his lips soft and wet as his beard scratches my cheeks in that irresistible way.

“As lovely as this is,” I begin as I slow the kiss down to a few soft pecks, “I am starving, and something smells divine.”

“I know how much you like mushrooms, so I made a mushroom rosé sauce. I just need to cook some pasta.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” I say with a smile, kissing him again before dragging him into the kitchen, where we share countless more reassuring hugs and soft kisses as we eat.

Tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @laurfilijames @swoopswishsward @quiall321 @dianakc @sazzlep @albionscastle

If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters or added to my tag list, let me know!

#richard armitage #richard armitage fanfic #richard armitage x oc #richard armitage x reader #richard armitage x you #professor au #office hours

24 notes · View notes