#<- face of individual in anguish | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

salaimoi · 8 months ago

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𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: GUYS THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! I finally wrote a fic that isn’t about GOJO?! whaaaaaaat is the world as we know it coming to an end? D:

Past lover Sukuna who originally took no interest in you being his wife, but eventually, your abiding love taught him to do so. But, it was far too late when you established that he was indeed capable of loving someone other than himself. Your demise caused him to lose the individual he held dearest in this world – replacing the affectionate sentiment that had been coursing through his heart with resentment.

Past lover Sukuna who had anticipated your fated return once more since the Heian Era, only for your rebirth to never arrive, even though millennia went by. The benevolent soul he eagerly waited for became ensnared in the depths of the underworld, unable to reincarnate into the mortal world.

Even then, he was more than certain that you weren’t at eternal rest because of the longing, the nostalgia, and the need to be together again that he felt.

He knew your anima was among the 7 realms somewhere; all he had to do was wait for your return. Heaven could wait as long as it meant laying eyes on that precious face of yours once more.

Past lover Sukuna who noticed the spitting image of his deceased wife walking down the street that fateful day. He couldn’t pass up this opportunity to have you once more in this lifetime as well – even if it was borderline selfish.

To bring back those good old times; to bring back what was his.

To hold you. To own you. To conquer you. To possess you. To control your soul. To do whatever he wanted to with you.

To be with you once again, reverting to a time when he could feel affection – the way he liked best.

Past lover Sukuna who gripped your arm vigorously out of the blue among the crowd, because Sukuna never knew boundaries – not when it came to his beloved.

“You look familiar,” he said, “not only the uncanny face shape and the exact same expression… but also your scent.” His gaze unrelenting as he scanned every aspect of your being as if you were his property, to make sure it was you – and he was correct.

You were the same woman Sukuna fell in love with 1000 years ago. Alas, his delicate swan had returned to him after eons of suffering, like he knew you would.

Past lover Sukuna who noticed you squirming under his grip and scolded you, sharp nails digging at your flesh.

“You shouldn’t be acting like this; it isn’t decent behavior for the reincarnation of my cherished wife to act in such a manner.”

But you didn't remember a life before this one, nor did you recall his name or even the fact that you were once his most prized possession.

Past lover Sukuna who waited over a thousand years just for his beloved to reincarnate into a mortal. He knew he wasn’t capable of loving anybody nearly as much as he loved her. And now...now she's back.

When you left this world, you took all – if any – of the sense of compassion he had. No one in the history of sorcerers and curses alike could come close to comprehending the misery he endured with each passing day.

Time and time again, reliving his wife’s death in his subconscious. Powerless to intervene as he witnessed the life drain out of her and transfer onto his fingertips.

“I missed you all those years, and I can't have the same fate happening again. I'm not going to let you die the way you did in your past life, got it?" Never forgetting to conceal the anguish in his words, as to not let himself be too vulnerable.

Past lover Sukuna who was hellbent on evoking in you the sentiment of what it was like to be his spouse. Even if it meant having to recreate every single romantic scenario he ever experienced with you a second time.

“I finally have you with me again. All I need to do is make you remember the feelings you had for me in your previous life, and then you'll have your past self fully restored.”

To you, it would entail falling in love with him all over again; to him, it would be a refresher on what you once shared. A win-win scenario.

Past lover Sukuna who began to notice the essence of that past life slowly merging with your current self, fusing the two identities into one. The love she felt a thousand years ago was slowly reawakening. All while Sukuna stood there in awe of the magnificent sight he was witnessing; the sight of his beloved being reborn again. The reunion of two souls was happening before his eyes, and it was almost emotional to see.

Past lover Sukuna whose heart felt heavy from the weight of joy and relief that he felt. He finally reunited with his once-lost lover. The essence of her former life was fully restored once more as she was standing right next to him. It seemed unreal to see her with his own eyes – his beloved was back, at long last. The eternal years of hardship for the sake of his plan were finally worth it.

Current lover Sukuna whose fingers ran through the locks sprawled over his lap – calming the both of you to no bounds when his fingernails rake through your scalp. His free hand holding onto your wrist tightly, because he had to be sure no one would snatch you from his grasp a second time.

“I missed you so damn much…more than you could ever possibly imagine.”

Current lover Sukuna who finally admitted to his feelings for the first time in millennium, because he missed you more than anything in this infernal world.

Current lover Sukuna who admired you with a soft expression, shocked at how angelic you were even after a thousand years.

“You still look as gorgeous as you did a lifetime ago.” words dripping with genuine adoration as he gazed down at his wife.

Current lover Sukuna who wondered how that was possible in the first place. Surely, granting him access to a companion of your caliber – with such a pure heart and soul – was a mistake of some kind?

Current lover Sukuna who thought, “All is right in this world again.” to himself. Because it was. You were by his side once more – right where you belonged.

#⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ 20ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀᴄᴏᴍʙᴏ ɪꜱ ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ .ᐟ #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #reader x sukuna #sukuna angst #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x you

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jesuistrestriste · 1 month ago

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I also had this idea about dilf era art having his sex tape(s) leaked.. or leaking them on purpose because his career is falling off.

The Christian moms would be clutching their pearls when they hear about THE art donaldson getting his back blown out 💀

His tennis career might be over but maybe he's got a new one with his pretty younger gf and her massive strap

ufff angel ! !

it’s a massive scandal when it leaks on twitter from an anonymous account.

the start of the video is actually pretty tame; and you’d never expect the man in the video to be the wimbledon-winning art donaldson. the first few minutes show a fit, naked man sitting on the edge of a bed with a girl in his lap. his hands on her hips, his cock bobbing in the little space left between them. she’s wearing a lacy black lingerie set, and even though you can’t see their faces—the framing cuts off their heads—you can tell from the wet, depraved noises alone that they’re aggressively making out.

the sloppy kissing turns into the two individuals getting handsy. he reaches up to squeeze her tits over the fabric, and her hands seem to move up behind his neck to tug on the back of his hair. a flash of blond locks can be seen. that’s the first hint of his identity. he moans when she pulls, his abdomen tensing and his length dribbling a sticky glob of arousal from his tip. in the next instant, one of her hands reaches down and starts to palm his tip. he jolts forward and whines, letting out an anguished “hnnghh” as she starts to stroke him.

his breathing gets quicker, the pale skin of his chest growing more and more pink by the second, before his fingers appear to dig into her body and he tenses up. her hand pulls away, effectively edging him. he shudders and wraps his arms around her lower back, pulling her further into his body. “pleasepleaseplease..” he can be heard whispering to begging her.

the tape cuts to black for only a moment before—

…wow.

she’s now got him bent over onto all-fours on the bed, his ass facing her pelvis while she lines up a thick pink dildo that’s attached to a harness she hadn’t been wearing before. his head is still lifted just enough to keep his eyes out of the video, but his jaw and lips and the tip of his nose can be seen. his mouth is hung open in a desperate ‘o’ while he feels her strap prod and begin to push in. it slides into him with little resistance, and she can be heard cooing down to the man below.

“thaaat’s it, baby.. good job.. guess we prepped you enough, huh?”

it’s teasing yet authoritative in nature, and the man just lets out an anguished groan of pure unfiltered pleasure as she positions her hands at his hips and starts to earnestly fuck into him. each roll of her pelvis elicits a sharp moan and whimper, and anyone watching can clearly see his cock drooling onto the sheets helplessly.

suddenly, after only a couple of minutes of this, the woman hikes her leg up onto the bed, bending it at the knee to gain better leverage on the side farthest from the camera, and pushes her hand down into the space between his shoulder blades.

he lets out a surprised whimper, keens, and then falls face-down into the bedding.

and in that moment in the video, every single person watching finally realized who he was.

all of his features are now totally visible. every single one.

art’s face is burning; his eyes rolling back into his head while his brows pinch up in ecstasy. his cheek is pressing into the mattress, his ass still up to meet her movements. he grips the white bedding under his palms and then bites his lip, “ohhh, fuck,” he whines, almost girlish, “fuck me harder, i’m gonna come, baby— ah-haah— i’m so close right now-!”

he’s making noises like a total pornstar; someone fit for the limelight and the mess of it all.

the woman, who can now be assumed to be his (controversially) younger girlfriend, complies with his begging with no more than a low chuckle. she bucks into him faster, and art yelps.

she raises her right hand and brings it down over his ass in a playful slap before she squeezes the flesh. his entire frame jolts and then he squeezes his eyes shut, his back perfectly arched, “.. im gonna come, can i— mgnh- touch myself? can you-or, i c— AH!”

the tennis player’s words get cut off when the girl leans over his back and wraps her hand around his sticky dick hanging heavily between his thighs. she pumps him quickly in time with her thrusts and it takes no more than twenty seconds before he’s trembling all over. and god, it’s a sight to behold.

“i’m gonna come, ‘m gonna come, baby, im gonna come! i’m—“

a strangled curse flies past his lips before he’s squealing and gushing milky strings of his release over her fingers and onto the bed. moans of pleasure turn into sobs of overstimulation as she milks him in her grasp, strong shots of his orgasm blending into pathetic dribbles of whatever’s left inside his balls.

he collapses under her, her strap still filling him, and she tenderly strokes his shaking back with her left hand. art’s gasping for air like he’s been deprived of it for a moment too long, and some of his hair is sticking to his forehead. his eyes open slightly, albeit lidded, and he moans out a slurred “thank you” before the video cuts to an end.

the uproar in its wake is insane.

he’s all over celebrity gossip magazines, and being talked about in raunchy podcasts, and exploited in deep-dive youtube videos. everything. it’s everywhere.

people were talking about him now who hadn’t even thought about him in years.

he was the talk of the town, really.

.. so art doesn’t even feel guilty that he was the one who clicked ‘post’.

#🌸 - ask prompts #💌 - mutuals #i wrote basically a whole fic but i love this concept sm omg angel ur mind #ok wait it’s not as much as i thought #but i got carried away whoopsiesss #i personally need to see that tape #i need to see him getting bent into all kinds of nasty positions thanks #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader

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plantboy-typhoon · 4 months ago

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i think vash is special to so many people not only because he is a FANTASTIC and multifaceted character, but because his pain is exhibited in a way that is deeply congruent with real life pain and experiences. he struggles with life’s purpose through a misguided and counterproductive philosophy and, despite having the purest intentions, is a deeply flawed individual. he is self-destructive and hypocritical, often times bringing pain and anguish unto himself and others without necessarily meaning to, as he dances the delicate line between what he believes in and the realities of the world. i think that is the beautifully tragic reality of our own human existence. his character symbolizes the grey areas of our own morality, the significance of our past and how it effects the present day, and the immense strength behind perseverance in the face of adversity. he is the perfect representation of an imperfect person and, ironically, what it feels like to be human.

tldr i love vash the stampede

#vash the stampede #trigun #trigun 1998 #trigun maximum #vash the humanoid typhoon #trigun anime #vash trigun #trigun vash #vash #trigun 98

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ellestray · 7 months ago

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elle's favorite ateez fics. f = fluff ; s = smut ; sg = suggestive ; a = angst. ✧ = absolute favorites, must read. (only adding notes for these few fics to ensure readability for the overall list!) word count in brackets. last updated: may 2nd, 2024

authors; if you wish to be untagged, please let me know!

currently no individual fic for hongjoong, yeosang & jongho. please refer to the OT8 section, or come back for future updates!

성화 SEONGHWA

✧ [11,1k] plastic flowers — @bobateastay ( f ; s ; a ) ↪ note: this fic revolves around abortion, so please keep this in mind before reading. i read this on a flight— and i don't know if it was the altitude, but it broke me. the author beautifully wrote this, in a way where unconditional love, hope and pain are intertwined. one of the most pleasantly surprising and touching reads i've had on this platform by far.

✧ [2,3k] essence — @hwaightme ( f ) ↪ note: this one is for the poetic, hopelessly romantic fics lovers. everything i've read from this author was beautiful so far! the poetry in this fic was so pretty that i felt the need to share it to my friends... although i usually never share fics out of tumblr. i'm excited to read through more of your writings, bai!

[1,2k] the first snow and being in love — @i-luvsang ( f )

[884] 02:36 — @hwapetals ( f )

[642] adoration — @kisshwa ( f ; sg )

[8,6k] both — @hwaightme ( s ; f )

[200] 10:24pm — @hotteoki ( f )

[986] anguish — @kisshwa ( a )

[n/a] bf texts — @hotteoki ( f )

[79] 9:22pm — @cozykpopblurbs ( f )

[1,6k] i'll be with you — @cheollipop ( f )

[519] lazy make out sessions — @crazyforhwa ( s )

[1,2k] realistic sex — @byuntrash101 ( s ; f )

윤호 YUNHO

✧ [13k + 18,2k] unprofessional attraction ; pt.1 , pt.2 , [tbc] — @jk97 ( f ; s ; a ) ↪ note: i was so engulfed into this fic that i skipped a lecture to continue reading. fics that are heavier nsfw-wise usually aren't my thing, but here, every single line pulled me in. hell, i felt even more insane about yunho after reading this. saying i'm excited about the next chapters would be an understatement.

✧ [14k] closer, face down — @ncteez ( s ; f ) ↪ note: again, although i usually prefer fluff over smut, i absolutely loved this fic... the build up made it so enticing! i don't know if a re-edit still is in the works, but i'd absolutely re-read it regardless!

✧ [84,5k] project: make you love me (series) — @hwaslayer ( f ; a ; s ) ↪ note: pulled an all nighter to read the entire series in one go... it was that fun to read! the relationship was built up at a nice, natural pace, while still keeping the reader on their toes. (this made me very excited about the seonghwa series in progress..!)

[1,1k] bedfellows — @sungbeam ( f )

[1,3k] he knows he loves you — @honeyhotteoks ( f )

[2,5k] convenience store chances — @ohmyamor ( f )

[n/a] boyfriend texts — @koizekomi ( f )

[300] nothing sweeter — @i-luvsang ( f )

[1,1k] nsfw alphabet — @yunhobug ( s )

[425] 3:52am — @edenesth ( f ; sg? )

산 SAN

✧ [3,7k] leave the window open — @sungbeam ( f ) ↪ note: so sweet. so comforting. the kind of heartwarming fic that feels like hot cocoa on a cold winter day. (also made me feel insane about san... but let's not talk about that.)

[1k] always available — @everyonewooeverywhere ( f )

✧ [1,6k] capturing us — @03jyh23 ( f ) ↪ note: another sweet, poetic, hopelessly romantic fic— my favorite kind! finding fics like these always feels like discovering a little treasure. looking forward to all the wips!

[n/a] boyfriend texts — @koizekomi ( f )

[2,6k] take a break - @cheollipop ( f ; s )

[249] 21:23 — @petitemingi ( f )

[350] boyfriend headcanons — @i-luvsang ( f )

[600] one more minute — @seonghwaddict ( f )

[1,3k] no strings, no expectations — @seonghwaddict ( a ; sg ; f? )

[468] stretch marks — @beenbaanbuun ( f )

[475] valentine's series : movies — @whimsicalwritingsandmore ( f )

[n/a] instagram stories with bf san — @lwtqts ( f )

[371] hold me — @cheeseceli ( f )

민기 MINGI

[800] untitled — @cheollipop ( a ; f )

[2,8k] mind over matter — @mingisaddctn ( s )

[256] 23:22 — @petitemingi ( f )

[1k] 23:46 — @seonghwaddict ( f )

[447] princess treatment — @cheeseceli ( f )

우영 WOOYOUNG

✧ [1,2k] broke you heart, i'll put it back together — @dairyminki ( a ; f ) ↪ note: loved this so much that i had to read it twice. something about wooyoung hopelessly in love wanting to fix this... name twin, if you're reading this, hi- i'd be seated for a part 2 if you ever have the time to write it!

[2,2k] vacation — @bobateastay ( f ; s )

OT8

[700] when you don't say i love you back — @jjunberry ( f )

[2,4k] romance tropes — @beenbaanbuun ( f )

[n/a] situationships (texts) ; pt.1 , pt.2 — @yunhoszn ( f )

[2,9k + 3k] as boyfriends ; hyung line , maknae line — @honeyhotteoks ( f : s )

[n/a] sex ban (texts) — @kisshwa ( sg ; f )

[n/a] sending you a pic of themselves (texts) — @bombuni ( f )

[1,3k] outfit turn-ons — @starillusion13 ( sg )

[1,2k] make-up sex — @nateezfics ( f ; a ; s )

[944] showering — @seonghwaddict ( f ; sg )

[1,6k] as boyfriends — @atiny-moon ( f ; sg )

[2,5k] that one specific habit they do that highlights their love language — @sanhwaism ( f )

[1,1k] top 3 kinks — @seonghwaddict ( s )

[2,8k] making out — @sxcret-garden ( sg ; f )

[n/a] asking them to draw a flower (texts) — @eightmakesonebraincell ( f )

if any link is broken, or if i made any mistake when tagging fics— please kindly let me know!

#here we go again.. idk if this will garner as much attention as the skz fic rec list did (which btw was crazy..? thank you!)#regardless— i hope it'll help you find lovely fics and talented authors on this hellish website. i'll try to more consistent with updates!#as for the skz fic rec list- i'm honestly a bit overwhelmed by the amount of recommendations i've accumulated...#so i'll try my best to update it whenever uni slows down (or my hyperfixation goes crazy again). thank you for understanding!#elle's favorite fics #ateez #ateez recommendations #ateez fic recs #ateez fic #fic rec #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez fic recommendations #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #seonghwa smut #yunho angst #yunho fluff #yunho smut

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sunny-day-jack-official · 10 days ago

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Dear Fans of SnaccPop Studios,

We recognize that many of you have questions about SnaccPop Studios and recent events. We want to provide clarity, particularly in relation to personal relationships among colleagues, our fans, workplace ethics and defamation.

First, we need to clear up allegations about our team's payments. Previous leadership had poor communication and time management skills, which caused contractor payments to be delayed. Inadequate management prompted us to make managerial changes over the summer. Under new management, recent delays occurred because we needed to wait for state and federal approvals, transfer managerial revenue, and draft new contracts which team members were made aware of. Additionally, we faced defamatory accusations regarding two team members crowdfunding efforts for housing and cancer treatment. These accusations falsely implied that we had not paid them, which led some individuals to demand that we use our Patreon and Kickstarter funds to cover their expenses in full. SnaccPop Studios operates as a zero-profit entity and cannot cover anything beyond production costs.

Some team members shared partial work-related information with their friends and associates. These friends and associates, without having the full context and knowledge, made incorrect assumptions and drew premature conclusions about our workplace practices. Certain individuals spread misinformation and lies in private group chats and servers based on what our team members said to them in confidence. Some of these individuals in these group chats and servers were also mutual friends of JambeeBot. These individuals believed that defamation, humiliation, and isolation were justifiable punishments for JambeeBot, and by extension SnaccPop Studios, for not releasing Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack on its intended release date. Ultimately, these actions led to JambeeBot posting a mental health crisis note on Twitter (X). These events have left our team members feeling demoralized, dehumanized, betrayed, and deeply hurt. We ask those reading this not to seek out these individuals. If they reveal themselves and publicly apologize, we urge you not to respond with harassment or threats.

The actions of these individuals have caused our team members to feel anxious, fearful, and saddened around our projects. Some team members have even considered leaving SnaccPop Studios and creative work altogether. It is deeply disheartening to see the extent to which some individuals have gone to hurt others over a game. No project, media, franchise, or character should be so central to someone's identity, self-worth, or emotional stability that it justifies harming others. Creative projects are meant to bring joy, entertainment, and connection—these individuals tainted that by turning a source of delight and fun into anguish and dread. Their actions have undermined the creative spirit that fuels these projects, making it harder for us to feel safe, inspired, and excited to continue the work we love.

We urge everyone to reflect on how they engage with creators, projects, and fandom spaces. Respect, empathy, and understanding are essential to maintaining a supportive and collaborative environment. Our team members should not fear humiliation, isolation, and defamation due to release delays, creative directions, or unforeseen production challenges. We ask for your understanding and respect as we work to maintain our boundaries and focus on moving forward.

Finally, we want to kindly inform our audience that the absence of a production update simply means there are no new or significant developments to report currently. Rest assured; we will communicate any important updates as soon as they become available. Speculation and rumors during periods of silence add unnecessary stress and hinder our ability to focus on creating content. We respectfully ask that you refrain from making potentially defamatory assumptions when updates are delayed.

Sincerely,

The SnaccPop Studios Team

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willows-escape · 10 months ago

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Symbolic - 1990!Erik x Reader - Part 1

Pairing - Erik (1990! Charles Dance) x (Female) Reader

Summary - the topic of the mask was the last obstacle in your blossoming relationship, and you were desperate to cross the barrier and become fully intertwined with the man you loved and claimed he loved you too.

Warnings - erik’s deformity is a mix of the deformity we see erik have as a child in the 1990 version and the musical, phantom having a small breakdown, the ✨mask✨topic, poorly dealt with feelings, miscommunication, suggestive moments and reference to genitalia and arousal, descriptions of a gory facial disfigurement, intense self hatred, mentions of christine but she’s long gone in this

Word Count - 4,770

Notes - there will be a part 2 i gotchu i gotchu. should part 2 be smutty or also just suggestive? also i tried writing this in a victorian-esque tone but if you arent vibing with that let me know and i’ll switch it up for part 2. i just thought it would be a nice touch.

give me feedback !!! pleasee !!!!

01 (you're here!) / 02

The nearby sound of trickling water gracefully blended into the ambiance of your surroundings; the towering trees above you resembled a verdant canopy. The quilt beneath you protected your body from the prickly blades of grass and artificial soil, offering a comfortable spot to recline with your hair spread out beneath you, shimmering in the artificial light.

You laid supine, hands elevated above you to cradle a book you had recently begun reading. The words captivated your attention, submerging you in a realm of fantasy and euphoria. Reading was your preferred means of escaping reality, a release you frequently yearned for when the burdens of the world weighed on your shoulders. It all faded away when you became engrossed in the pages of a book.

Regrettably, you were not the only person who was aware of your coping mechanisms. The situation was quite an affair, so you wouldn’t delve too deeply into the small details, but the love of your life had at long last informed you of his reciprocal affection for you. It felt magical and otherworldly to hear that sweet confession escape his enthralling lips, his eyes penetrating into the depths of your soul as his hands tenderly grasped your waist. You had witnessed the words that you only ever seemed to hear in your dreams.

So what had left you so apprehensive?

Well, the man you spoke so highly about, Erik, did not seem to return those high opinions for you. There was a part of himself he laboured ceaselessly to conceal from you, a mask that symbolically and literally kept up a barrier between your world and his world to prevent them from intertwining. You’d exchanged tender sentiments, cried tears of anguish and passion the night you’d finally confessed. You clung to each other as if your lives depended on it and subjected each other to a night of basking in vulnerability and fragility as your secrets long harboured tumbled past your tongue before you could restrain them. The morning after was no less exquisite and that of a fairy tale romance, but the barrier remained.

That mask he wore, pale and icy to the touch, silently spoke of his distrust for you. The final puzzle piece that he adamantly refused to fit into place, even for the sake of your love. Oh, it was a cruel predicament indeed! All you desired was to behold the appearance of the man you held dear, but he swore by the highest heavens that his visage would send you fleeing, and that was the last outcome he desired. To some extent, you understood his apprehension, having heard him recount tales of how numerous individuals he had cared for and adored had reacted abhorrently upon the unveiling of his face. But how could he expect the two of you to spend the remainder of your lives together without even a glimpse of his unadorned skin?

You weren't expecting Prince Charming, and while you weren't entirely convinced by his claims of him having a face of nightmares, you did trust that he might not be conventionally attractive. After all, you had never seen him. Besides his gentlemanly actions and his physique that seemed as if it had been crafted by a divine being, you weren't going to assume that he was the most handsome man in the world. You would love him nonetheless. But no matter how greatly you persisted and promised him you wouldn’t leave despite what he looked like, he truly did not believe a word you said. And it hurt.

“A new book, dear?”

You glanced upward, granting the subject of your grovelling a tight lipped smile as you hastily flicked your attention back to the words on the page. No anger dwelled within you, just painful disappointment, and the ache in your heart made it hard to bare the sight of him. “Of course. It’s Jane Eyre.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, his walking cane planted firmly into the ground below. You internally winced as the silence rang loud in the air. You were not seeking to upset your lover, but also somehow desiring to communicate that you weren't entirely pleased at the moment. It appeared that the message had travelled clear, but the upset was unavoidable.

A moment more passed before he spoke, “I feel a chill coming on. Seems as though it’s about to rain, don’t you think? Come, let’s retreat inside before it starts to pour.”

You arched a suspicious eyebrow, fingers still tightly clasped around the novel you held. If the plastic animals scattered around that Erik had stolen from the props department said anything, everything in this quaint woodsy area was unquestionably fake. From the dirt to the grass to the trees, the animals and the sky. It went without saying there would be no rainfall. This meant he wanted to discuss things with you without the distraction of your nose being buried within the pages of a book. And you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

“And why should I do that?” you questioned, paying him no eye contact as you pretended to continue to read.

“You wouldn’t want your clothing to get wet, would you? I won’t be visiting the laundry room of the opera house for another week, hence it would be wise to avoid sullying a valuable item of clothing,” he reasoned, knowing fully well that he’d drop whatever he was currently doing to run and fulfil any request you asked of him, never mind visiting the damn laundry room.

You parted your lips, ready to jestingly remark about how there would indeed be no rainfall. Yet, in that very moment, a peculiar sensation graced your senses. A solitary droplet of water descended upon your nose, its touch cold and trailing a path of dampness as it glided down your nasal bridge. A gasp escaped your lips as more droplets descended, their frequency increasing with each passing moment. In a hastened flurry, you stood upright, clasping your cherished book to your bosom. You abandoned the forgotten quilt as you sprinted through the doors adorned with stained glass, leading you back to Erik's modest dwelling. He followed closely, not far behind your hurried steps.

You’d have to speak to him about putting up a gazebo. To block out the sun, you’d tell him.

“Guess you were right,” you half-heartedly chuckled, absentmindedly tossing the book onto a table to the side of you.

You found yourself in Erik’s room of treasures, where he stored and cherished his most esteemed items, namely his collection of masks and his grand piano. The ambiance within was of a tranquil and serene nature, causing your anger to gradually dissipate. Yet, the sorrow and anguish still lingered within you.

"Forgive me, have I down something to displease you?" Erik questioned, his steps measured and deliberate as if he were trying not to startle you, akin to approaching a timid creature. With utmost gentleness, he lightly laid his hand upon your shoulder, allowing it to glide downward, tracing the contour of your arm.

"Erik…" you whispered, tearing your eyes away from him. Your heart faltered, your breath catching in your throat as his fingertips delicately brushed against your skin. A fire simmered in your core, your veins rushing with hot blood as the touch of his hand engulfed you, overwhelming your senses with a fervour. “I… do not wish to upset you.”

“The only upset you cause me is by not being honest with your feelings,” he replied, hand reaching up to gently trace the skin of your cheek. Your eyes felt weak, gently fluttering shut as you indulged yourself in his affections. “Please, tell me what is troubling you.”

You paused for a moment, allowing yourself to succumb to his touch for a little while longer. The words settled on the tip of your tongue, ready to escape you and take a leap of faith from your mouth to his waiting ears, but you’d already approached this subject with him before and did not wish to push him to frustration or sorrow.

“I just…” you paused, “One day, Erik, do you wish for us to be husband and wife?”

His eyes widened, mouth agape in shock at your blunt statement. He stammered in surprise, removing his hand from your cheek slowly. He drew in a deep breath before answering, “There is nothing I desire more than to be wedded to you. Where is this coming from? Are you feeling as though our relationship is moving too slow? I just didn’t want to frighten you by pushing for more. Why, I’ll marry you tomorrow-”

“Erik, Erik,” you laughed, hand coming up to cup his cheek with your own hand as he was doing to you seconds ago, “I didn’t mean it like that, though I’ll marry you the second you ask it of me. Maybe not tomorrow, however.”

“Ah,” his nerves tingled, goosebumps rising on his skin at the electricity of your touch. He cleared his throat before continuing, “While that is a great relief to me, may I ask as to why you asked that, if not for the reason I previously thought?”

Taking one last final pause, you readied yourself to confess your true want. “I know you’ve said no, and told me to not bring up the subject again… but my love, how can I marry somebody when I have yet to see their face?”

Erik pursed his lips, his eyes shifting down as he began fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. You felt dreadful witnessing the unease that the inquiry evoked in him, understanding that it inevitably resurrected distressing memories he longed to forget. Nevertheless, no advancement could transpire between the two of you in your relationship until he allowed you to see his face. You refused to be bound to someone who concealed such an essential aspect of himself, even if you knew the intentions to be entirely pure.

“I can’t do that,” Erik shook his head, walking away from you and moving towards his basket of walking canes. He placed his current one back with the bunch, before busying himself with rearranging his mask collection. He didn’t want to stray too far from you, but also wanted you to drop the subject.

You quietly tip toed behind him, enveloping him in your arms as you wrapped them around his waist and placed your head on his broad shoulder. You audibly heard his breathing pause, feeling him shiver as he relished in your touch. But nevertheless, he pushed on with rearranging his collection, although he wasn’t moving side to side around the table as he was doing previously.

“But why?” you asked.

“You know why, my face is that of nightmares. And I’ve hurt too many by showing them what they believed they could handle. My expectations are realistic.”

“You could never hurt me!” You insisted, your emotions getting the best of you as you retreated from him. He hunched over slightly, hands resting upon the clear spot of table in front of him to steady himself. His head twitched to the side as he bit his bottom lip in thought.

“Dear, I know you think that I exaggerate when I speak of my face, but I can assure you that I do not lie out of simple insecurity. My own father hid me down here due to my appearance, that must speak volumes,” he sighed, coming up once again to stand straight. “Now please, do not ask again.”

“So when I inevitably return to wallowing in my own feelings and escaping to the woods for hours at a time again, will you tell me to not ask again when you approach the subject of my feelings once more?” you tried to reason, desperately wanting him to view the situation from your point of view.

He didn’t respond for a little while, evidently pondering your words that he knew deep down held some veracity. The matter of the mask was evidently causing you distress, and he couldn't fathom any solution that would alleviate your concerns. But alas, he simply couldn't bring himself to do so.

“I’m sorry, my answer’s no.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, shimmering with unspoken pain and longing. Your vision blurred as a single tear cascaded down your cheek, tracing a path of sorrow. Your body trembled with silent sobs, your shoulders shook as you struggled to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. The ache in your heart grew stronger, as if each tear shed was a testament to the love and vulnerability you had offered, only to be met with rejection.

“My dear, please, don’t cry over me,” his arms swiftly enfolded you in an embrace, his own frame quivering with an inability to endure the sight of your tears. With a resolute tenderness, he pressed his chilled lips upon your forehead, bestowing a gentle kiss as he cradled your head against his chest. In a steady rhythm, he swayed, seeking to soothe your anguish and stifle the heart breaking sounds that escaped your lips.

“How can I not?” you wept, fingers shaking from how firmly you were clinging onto his white button up shirt. You were grabbing on to him so tight you feared your nails would pierce holes in the delicate fabric, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relinquish your grip no matter how much you internally fought with yourself. Nothing you were doing seemed to be venting your frustrations adequately, leaving you at a loss for how to cope. "My love, the very essence of my existence, the one who breathes life into me, steadfastly refuses to show me his face."

“You must understand- I feel for you exactly as you describe your feelings for me, if not tenfold. That’s why I can’t show you. I’m protecting you just as much I want to protect myself,” he confessed, eyes squeezing shut as his swaying slowed to a stop. His grip was becoming tighter and tighter.

“I know life has dealt you an unfair hand, Erik, I’ve heard your cries and witnessed your heartbreak. I was there for you all throughout Christine, I was there to see your regret and misery as she left you behind. I did not leave your side for a second. I know the great despair and trauma her reaction to your face cast upon you, but please believe not a hair on my head resembles Christine. I will not hurt you the same.”

Erik held you a little longer, his embrace becoming even more so impossibly tighter. He wasn’t urgent to reply, instead allowing himself to bask in your love for as long as he could manage. Your sweet love was an addiction, an ambrosia he craved every single waking hour. But even then you lived in his dreams, your angelic presence blessing him wherever he went or whatever state he was in.

“I love you, Erik,” you spoke, looking upwards towards him as he began to tilt his head to share your unwavering gaze.

“I love you too,” he said.

“So show me,” you whispered, eyes glistening with tears and lips downturned into a subtle frown.

You took one last look into his eyes, before pushing yourself forward and up. Your lips met in a fervent union, a culmination of the deepest desires and longings that had long been brewing between you both. It was a kiss imbued with a delicate tenderness and an irresistible urgency, your mouths moving in perfect harmony. Each brush of his lips sent electric waves coursing through your body, igniting a blazing fire within your soul. In that timeless moment, you and him surrendered yourselves completely, losing all sense of time and space. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent pledge of profound love and unwavering devotion.

As you reluctantly broke the intimate connection, succumbing to the need for a breath of air, your gaze met his half-lidded eyes. His lips were swollen, and his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip as he inhaled deeply. A blush crept across your cheeks as you attempted to conceal the rapid beating of your heart, finally becoming aware of his hands that had gradually ventured downward, tenderly tracing the curves of your waist.

He silently took a moment to recover, savouring the lingering taste of your kiss. It was unlike any other you had shared before - no longer innocent and brief, but a passionate embrace that ignited a fire within you. As your lips met, it felt as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure bliss. The intensity of your connection was palpable, like a match being scraped against a stone, creating small sparks that danced and flickered between your bodies. It was a kiss that left you both breathless, your hearts racing with newfound desire and a longing for more.

“If you really insist on seeing my face, come with me to your room. I do not wish to make you feel cornered, but if you are to faint I wish for you to not bring yourself harm.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The kiss you shared made every colour appear more vibrant and the air feel lighter, filling every fibre of your being with pure bliss. As you followed him, each step felt buoyant, as if you were walking on air.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your room. Erik was very against you two sharing a bedroom, stating that he did not wish to make you uncomfortable or feel trapped next to him, when the reality couldn’t be farther from that. But you feared that he might’ve just been projecting, that he was the one who felt uncomfortable and trapped with the idea of you two sharing a room, so you’d left the topic alone for another day. That day still hasn’t arrived.

Erik took a hold of your hand, gently pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. He shook slightly, so lightly that you almost thought your eyes were deceiving you. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything, besides how much I love you,” you giggled.

“I… will not keep you down here, if you decide you never want to see me again. I’ve learnt my lessons, do not fear you reaching the same fate Christine did when she reacted negatively.”

You wanted to protest his words, state that you feeling negatively towards him was inconceivable and never going to happen. You also wanted to tell him to stop mentioning Christine, just the utterance of her name made you scowl. But you didn’t want to argue at a time like this, so you just nodded your head.

“Before I take this awful thing off… that kiss was everything I’ve ever wanted and more. If after this you no longer love me, please know that your display of love made me feel like a normal, living man, and that I’m doing this because I know I can die happy after the fact, if you were to leave.”

“I’m honoured to be able to make you feel that way, my love.”

He hesitantly extended his hand towards the strings that secured his mask to his head, skillfully undoing the knot he had carefully tied. As he prepared to remove the mask, he couldn't help but steal a final wistful glance at you, savoring the moment before gradually peeling it away from his skin, gripping the edges tightly with his other hand. The air seemed to hold its breath as the mask revealed the vulnerable visage beneath, unveiling a hidden side that had long been concealed.

His face was a grotesque sight, something that defied accurate description. The skin was cruelly stripped away, revealing the raw and twisted muscles beneath. It was a horrifying visage, and it made your heart ache. He was deformed, disfigured; the only parts of his face that were covered in flesh were swollen and bright red, contrasting the pale whiteness of his bone. You tried your best to swallow the gasp that was pushing past your throat, but you were human.

You were sure you could hear the sound of his heart shattering, but you were so shocked you could only watch as he crumbled to his knees before you. His screams and cries made you nauseous, his repeated wails of, ‘why!? why!? why!?’ as he grabbed onto the hem of your skirt, hiding his face in the fabric in his suffering. You snapped back into reality, falling to your knees in front of him.

“Erik, no, please-”

“Go, please. Leave me.”

“No, please, hear me out. I don’t hate you-”

“This is hardly a face you’d want to marry!” he protested, burying his face deeper into the fabric of your skirt, resisting as you tried to pull it away. “You may not hate me, but you’re scared! Is this the face of a man you could wake up next to, spend the rest of your love with, make love to at night before we sleep? Please just go!”

“No!” you cried, relenting on your attempts to tear his desperate self away from your skirt. You wrapped your arms around him, this time cradling him against your bosom as you rocked back and forth. You felt the tension slowly dissipate from his form. “I do not hate you and I am not scared of you! I want to do all those things with you, Erik, please I swear!”

His quiet sobs continued to echo through the air, his scared body shaking erratically. With utmost tenderness, you cradled his quivering form in your arms, holding him close and providing a safe haven for his shattered heart. Gently, you brushed your fingers through his hair, whispering words of love and reassurance into his ear. Your touch and soothing voice offered him comfort and solace, doing your best to remind him that your love extended far beyond mere physical appearances.

In that moment, as he sought refuge in your embrace, you felt an overwhelming surge of love and compassion for this broken man before you. Despite the mask he wore, both symbolically and literally, you saw the depth of his pain and the vulnerability he rarely allowed others to witness. Your heart ached for him, yearning to heal the wounds that had haunted him for far too long.

"You are more than your face, Erik," you whispered softly, your voice filled with unwavering affection. "Your heart, your soul, and the love we share transcends any physical imperfections. I love you for who you are, please believe that."

As his sobs gradually subsided, he looked up at you with tear-filled eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope and acceptance. In that moment, you saw a spark of belief flicker within him, a tiny beacon of light amidst the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

"I… I want to believe you," he choked out, his voice trembling with both fear and longing. "But all my life people have only said different. How can they when I don’t have a face, and only the resemblance of a face?”

You held his face gently in your hands, your touch conveying a tenderness that words alone could not express. "I understand. I’m sorry for reacting like that, please forgive me. I love you regardless of your face, it was just unlike anything I’d ever seen before. That’s all. I feel no differently for you than how I felt before you removed the mask.”

He hesitantly inclined towards your touch, his eyes seeking yours for reassurance and acquiescence. He quivered as a vehement cry escaped his lips once more, bedewing your bodice in his tears. Yet, you cared not the slightest, more preoccupied with consoling the poor man trembling before you.

You both sat together on the floor of your bedroom for an indeterminate span of time, but to you it felt like hours. You cradled him like a mother would her infant, tenderly caressing and comforting him with gentle touches and whispered reassurances. You hadn’t seen Erik shed tears since the evening of your confession, and you could only surmise that all the trepidation and unease had finally reached a breaking point and crumbled along with his composure. It deeply saddened you to know the man you loved so intensely hated himself and had been hated so harshly by those around him. You vowed to never cause him pain like everybody else had as long as you both lived.

Eventually, he withdrew from you, gracefully settling on his knees, his hands still shielding his face from your view, protecting his vulnerability. He wiped away the glistening tears that adorned his cheeks, his other hand instinctively seeking to conceal himself from your gaze. A pensive frown graced your mouth as you hesitantly reached upward, your fingers yearning to grasp his trembling hands, only to recoil as he instinctively recoiled in response to your advance.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve seen it all now, haven’t I?” you hushed, hands dropping from his hands but instead reaching up to smooth back his hair with your fingers.

He sniffled quietly, “Forgive me, I did not intend on frightening you. I am simply unused to showing my bare face around others, it’s unfamiliar.”

“Of course, I understand, love,” you smiled, gently trailing your hand down the side of his face. Goosebumps littered his skin like a trail.

You moved closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. You kept one hand on his face, basking in the warmth of his skin that didn't have any disfigurement. Your other hand gently draped over his shoulder as you approached, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his back. He quivered beneath your touch, his legs extending out from under him to create a space for you to come impossibly closer. As you lowered yourself onto his lap, a surge of electricity coursed through your veins. His breath, warm and intoxicating, caressed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands trembled with uncertainty, itching to remove themselves from his face to come down and touch you instead. You chuckled.

“You can hold me.”

His breath caught in his throat, his mind filled with a whirlwind of desires as he absorbed the words that flowed from your enchanting lips. You couldn't help but chuckle softly, savouring the profound effect you had on the man beneath you.

“I’d like to put on my mask, dear,” Erik finally spoke, “As much as I love having you so close, I’m not ready to show myself to you so unashamedly yet.”

With a nod of your head, you stepped back, allowing him the space he needed to shroud his face from view. Though you comprehended the internal struggle he faced after years of hiding, a bittersweet pang of sadness tugged at the depths of your heart. The poignant reality that he still felt the need to shield himself wounded you deeply. But you tried to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t personal.

He swiftly and efficiently retied the strings, maintaining his determination, as he stood up following you. You leaned in and planted a brief but meaningful kiss on his lips, savoring the moment before reluctantly breaking away. With a mix of emotions swirling inside, you diverted your attention, attempting to shift your focus away from the recent event that had transpired.

“I’ll be out dusting the statues, you haven’t kept up with them in a while and I’d noticed them on the way in and I think they could really use a clean. I’ll speak to you later.” You quickly retreated from the room without even sparing a second glance.

Erik stood there, mouth agape, unable to comprehend the suddenness of your departure. His mind was flooded with a multitude of questions, doubts, and confusion, hindering his ability to think clearly. As he glanced around the room, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over him, as he tried to process the intensity of the moment and the speed at which you had vanished from his presence. Meanwhile, his body felt an uncomfortable strain, as his arousal pressed insistently against the constricting fabric of his trousers, adding yet another layer of complexity to his already tumultuous thoughts.

You were no less aroused, the tingling sensation in your nether regions proving that you had been mutually affected by your lover. Oh lord, this was going to cause problems.

#phantom of the opera #poto #erik poto #erik the phantom #erik destler #cherik #gerik #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera musical #musical #phantom of the opera x reader #poto x reader #fluff #smut #angst #erik x reader #erik destler x reader #1990 phantom of the opera #2004 phantom of the opera

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clare-875 · 3 months ago

Text

Show Me (Levi x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Female Reader Summary: You make the mistake of hiding your injury from Levi Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Descriptions of blood, injury and canonical violence [AOT Masterlist] _____

It hurt. The gash on your side brought you almost to tears, and the anguish was rich. It threatened to invade the composure of your mind, but you kept your form still and enveloped with gritted facade. You were a Captain of the Scouts, and the losses and injuries upon this mission were heavy. I can't cause more burden, not when more need help over me. Oblivious to some members of the Scouts and blatantly obvious to others were the beliefs of one person who would immediately contradict your current thoughts; Levi. You knew what he would say and do if he saw you injured, especially in a state like this; he wouldn't listen to your incessant reassurance. But even more so, you could imagine his anger as he forced how you got the injury out of you. He would berate your carelessness and your reckless conduct. But in your mind, you did what any leader of the Scouts, or truly any good-hearted soldier would do; you risked your life to save another's.

She had been young, and she was screaming like her life depended on it; because it did. You knew she was a rookie and evidently of a squad that had been wiped out during the dire events of the mission. She had witnessed as her squadmates and no doubt close friends and mentors were ripped apart. The scene was of unspeakable crimson red. The sudden ambush of Titans upon what was meant to be a simple recon mission had an incredibly adverse outcome. Erwin would likely be displeased to learn he had lost around half the Scouts and many new members. The newer members were the ones that would keep the ambitions of the deceased alive, for humanity, or at least that's what the blond-haired Commander would often say. But you also found yourself agreeing. The goal now was clear as day: to abandon recon and limit as much loss and death as possible. That's why you told your squad to stay put when you heard a distant screaming. They had looked at you hesitant but complied.

She was within the grasp of a fifteen-meter Titan, wide brown eyes seeping with fear, dread, and hysteria. She was facing the very cause of her impending death, facing the pain that would inevitably come as she was digested alive. Brown pigtails swayed as she thrashed and moved violently, voice lost in mania. She embodied images of children you would see running about within the walls; the very innocence and individuals we all tried so hard to protect. You knew you had to be fast, but two smaller titans lingered, crazed looks upon their mutilated faces. You can't afford to hesitate. You stand atop your horse as you latch onto one of the smaller Titans quickly slicing through the nape before it even knew it was falling. You move not wasting your time, and attach to the next, turning in a series of well-practised movements before the other Titan falls to the ground.

The problematic fragment of the rescue came with the very Titan that had the young Scout in its hand. You couldn't kill it carelessly as that may mean the young scout dies or gets injured on impact; your movements would have to be wary. You attach to the shoulder of the fifteen-meter Titan, and you see in the young girl's eyes that she is lost in her terror as the pressure of the Titan’s grasp seems to surge. You move as you see her gaze widen; she is rapt in fear and disillusion; she is barely responsive. You strike, swiftly cutting through the nape, but trying to follow the movements of the Titan falling to gather the young scout into your arms before she falls. She is there, just about with you as she screams when the Titan falls to its knees. However, you underestimate the extent of the girl's terror. Instead of recognising your form coming to her rescue, she panics and tries to release her ODM gear, but it's broken. As wires release from her gear erratically, one side grazes your side severely. In a split second, you feel searing pain and shock, but you manage to get the girl to the ground safely as she is finally within your arms.

When you reach the grassy floor, she is still shaking in your grasp, sobs racking her body and breaths concerningly uneven. You, on the other hand, look down beyond your Scout cape; the cut is deep. Not enough to be fatal immediately but also enough to leave room for worry; not good. The girl's eyes look to you now, and her tearful eyes follow your gaze to your side, eyes widening at the sight of blood. Your blood; a Captain's blood. You hear her breath stutter, and her eyes widen further; she's panicking more and in an uncertain situation that’s not something you need. So, quickly, you hide the crimson behind your cape, holding your right side harshly with your left grip. Then you grab the girl by her shoulder with your free hand and look intently into her eyes. "Hey, breathe, it's okay." She looks to you, but she has yet to verbalise anything. She is dissociated and tense, a clear sign of PTSD.

You quickly call for your horse with a whistle, and she approaches swiftly much to your gratitude. "We're going to rejoin the rest of the Scouts, okay?" The young Scout hesitantly nods, and you gesture to the horse as she gets on. You quickly gather a loose cloth you had in a bag attached to your horse and wrap it around your torso, the girl looking worriedly on. "A-are you going to be o-okay?" Her eyes are filled with the trauma of seeing death take her allies; seeing death tempt her own life. So, you do your best to smile before tying off your makeshift bandage. "Don't worry about this, it's just a scratch." However, you cringe internally at the sharp pain that strikes you as you go to mount your horse behind the young Scout. It was worse than you were letting on. You look at the sight of three steaming Titans around you and then at the limbs and barely discernible figures of your comrades drowning in red. Heavy emotion fills you, but there are more pressing matters at hand. "Let's go."

When you return to your squad, after swearing the girl to secrecy, the pain worsens. It's thick and demanding as the initial adrenaline wears off, but as you see the masses of Scouts cringe and cry as they get onto the limited carts, you stop yourself from a moment's weakness. You would be fine. The girl follows your second-in-command as they take her to find another squad, her brown eyes lingering as you nod. Then, your eyes meet with worried grey; it's Levi. He approaches atop his horse as other squad members get ready to go back to the walls after the appalling mission. "[y/n]," Levi's voice is low, but his gaze is sharp as he searches you for any visible signs of harm. When he eyes crimson on your hands his gaze widens, and you almost panic. "It's not mine, don't worry." You find yourself lying through your teeth. You didn't know why. Maybe it was pride, maybe you didn't want to be a burden, maybe you didn't want him to worry. But you lied anyway.

Levi seems hesitant to let the matter go, but he nods slowly before Erwin's voice rings through the air. His blue eyes still glow in the light of the falling sun, but you see exhaustion carefully hidden beneath the facade; the mission had failed. "All troops, back to the walls!" His voice carries across the small gathering of the small number of Scouts left behind, and you hear Levi's voice uttered lowly before you go to gallop. "Stay close." You nod but force yourself not to groan. He and his squad are beside yours the entirety of the ride home, Levi still at unease after the atrocious events of the day. He would rather die than see the one person he swore to protect lost to him because of a simple matter of separation. Little did he know you had already been lost to the clutches of danger beyond the walls; untamed panic being the second most cause of death in Titan territory.

The pain is harsh, and you force tears not to come as you feel Levi's stare on you from behind. You breathe sharply through your teeth to the point where one of your squad members looks at you in concern to which you shake your head swiftly, and they nod hesitantly. By the time you reach the walls you know it's not looking good. You look beyond your cape and see blood has seeped through bandages, and you are surprised to find yourself still atop your horse. When you finally make it beyond the walls and to the stables, your guard lowers, however, and your vision begins to sway. You feel harsh nausea fill you, and you struggle to keep the facade. As your squad members leave at your quick dismissal and their confused but swift regard, you finally let yourself let out a muffled scream in your hand. Sweat builds on your skin, and suddenly, you feel panic when you don't think you can continue to stand. Your legs start to tremble, and your vision becomes worse with unbearable pain. Shit. Shit. Shit. I'm going to die in a stable, and for what?

You don't know if it's fortune or not when Levi makes his way towards you, but when he regards your face buried in an arm and leaning heavily on the stable's walls, he knows something's wrong. You are breathing heavily and gripping your side harshly. Then he sees it, a flash of crimson. Levi feels his heart jolt with pure panic, urgency, and dread. "[y/n]!!" His voice is harsh but full of worry when you turn to him breathlessly and try to stand straight, only for tears to prick at your eyes. You have to bite your tongue just to stop the scream. "Oi, what's wrong?!" Your vision sways and you realise just how stupid this has all been. He is angry and full of rage, he is drowning in concern as it dances in his sharp eyes; the very things you had tried to prevent had occurred anyway. "L-Levi," you suddenly give way as your body collapses, almost hitting the ground if he hadn't been there to catch you. "[y/n] what-" Levi is cut off as he eyes the makeshift bandage that has soaked through with blood; your blood. "L-Levi, m'sorry." You hear muffled yells of your name, a panic you have rarely seen in his eyes now gleaming, and it's the last thing you see.

Levi’s mind breaks.

Your vision goes black.

…..

When you wake, the light comes slowly. Next comes the dull ache of pain that reverberates from your side. Then, you feel the light warmth of a hand enveloping yours. When your eyes open, you meet a sight that has your heart falling to the floor; it’s Levi in a state you have never seen. The soft glow of light from windows and the gentle breeze ruffles his raven hair, but his head is bowed low, and one hand grips yours like a lifeline. There is no one else in the room. You squeeze your hand gently, and he looks up immediately, sharp, tired gaze on you. But then you see the look of devastation turn swiftly to anger, and he tries to bury the hurt you caused underneath it. “You almost died.” His words are cold as he releases you from his hold, and he stands almost pacing. “Levi,” you breathe, seeing how his eyebrows furrow and eyes seep with such rage you have never seen before. “Levi, I’m-,” but he quickly cuts you off before the words slip from your mouth. “No [y/n], don’t you get it? You almost fucking died, and for what!? Another shitty brat?! How many times have I told you not to be so reckless?!” You see the hurt that holds Levi from seeing reason, and he inflicts guilt on his words. However, in the mixture of pain and exhaustion, you snap at him instead. “I had to.”

Levi turns sharply at your words, but you refuse to meet his gaze, and there is unease in the air. “Levi, she was so young, so inexperienced, you can’t just expect me to turn away. Would you?!” You feel a sharp pain in your side as you cringe before leaning back to your bed, Levi’s eyes now shining with apprehension. Then, there is a heavy silence as the sudden escalation dies down. “I almost lost you.” You look up then at Levi’s tortured eyes, the gaze that reflects every instance he witnessed death. “I’m sorry, I was stupid.” You say as he finally meets your regard with a look of utter defeat. It breaks your heart, but Levi feels the memories of you collapsing churn in his mind. You almost looked dead the instant you fell to his arms, blood soaking and skin pale. He had never moved so fast, shouting orders and shoving people out of the way. He would never forget when nurses pushed him from the doorway, and he looked numb to the door as they tried to vitalise your dying heart.

He sits at your side again, and you reach for him as his hand intertwines with yours once more. “Don’t hide your injuries. Do you understand? And no risking lives for shitty brats.” You just shake your head and give him a weak smile. “I promise, no hiding. But you know I can’t promise the rest.” Levi's gaze is one of loss at your words, but you see acceptance deep within. “Don’t die on me.” He utters lowly, and you look at him before gently tugging at his hand. He meets your eyes briefly, but you slowly and gently bring him close. You pull him in by his shirt until his lips capture yours, careful but warm. There is hidden desperation, hidden grief and fear that holds you to him as he deepens the kiss before letting go. “I’ll be okay.” Levi’s gaze falters, but soon nurses enter the room, and at the sight of you awake, you watch in light amusement as they chide humanity’s strongest for not calling them. However, Levi pays them no attention, eyes forever and always looking for you, looking to you and watching for the hurt you try to bury beneath your mask.

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fanaticsnail · 6 months ago

Note

my heart?! anon?! snail?! why must you hurt me so?!?!?! i demand (gently, in an easily refuse-able way) a fluffy bandaid!!!!

in the same style as kiss, marry, kill- have! 'realising you're in love', 'requited pining (they're idiots your honor)', and 'confession'! Either with the original three or... hmm -narrows eyes- kid, luffy, and torao.

the choice is yours (in multiple aspects) just ;w; owwww asldjkgljdfgklfd - @remisloves

How about some longing from Eustass Kid, Remi? I don't think I have it in me for the other two, but I could do some longing from Kid before I dive right back into writing his pollen.

Longing

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 880+

Synopsis: Eustass Kid doesn't know how to behave around you, especially now that he's developed feelings for you.

Themes: Kid x reader, pining, longing, yearning, wanting, desiring, dancing, drinking, Kid is gonna do something about it soon enough, platonic!heat x reader, confessions of love.

Notes: I broke my own heart by writing "Kiss, Marry, Kill" with a few of my favorites. I wanted to see what some fluffy longing would look like on Kid to make up for my sadess.

Sitting at the head of the lengthy dining table in the center of the tavern, the captain of the crew of the Victoria Punk sang and drank in full merriment. Another successful victory had come at the swift hand of his gaggle of misfits, and he was none other than the proudest of leaders.

As the music began to swell, several members of the crew got up to dance with one another. Bubblegum took Quincy by the hand and twirled her into himself with lazy joy in his chuckle. Quincy began to sway her hips to the beat and tap her toes with a simple ease, all with a wide smile on her lips.

The melody turned deeper, grungier, and with heavier beaten drums to match. Swinging hips and swirling arms, the crew began to dance a little closer. This normally would never bother him. As a captain, he enjoyed watching his crew build rapport with one another.

What he didn't anticipate was the way his heart jumped up to his throat when he met his caramel-colored gaze with your body. Sultry grinding motions, and tugging his fire-breather by the belt at his hips towards the dance floor, your smile mirrored Heat’s as he laced his arms around your neck and gazed playfully in your eyes.

It was no secret that Kid was fond of you as his counselor. You were his second closest confidant after Killer, and he adored you. He loved the way you kept him in line and level headed. He loved when you smiled, it lit up the whole room. He loved how caring and thoughtful you were with each of his crewmen, catering to their individual personalities and complex needs with ease and compassion.

He loved you.

As you released Heat’s belt and turned in his arms to lean your back into him, Kid almost jumped out of his chair and growled at Heat for raking his hands down your hips. Heat tugged you firmly back into his pelvis, you both rocked your hips from side to side and laughed at how easy it was to dance to the beat with one another.

Kid watched on in anguish, his face betraying his emotions and a forlorn expression plastered on his painted lips. As he turned back to his ale, he felt a firm hand clap on his shoulder. Turning to his first-mate, Killer tilted his mask to the side and angled his chin down.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kid said, shrugging off his scythe-wielding best friend’s hand, “I know you're smirkin’ under there, big guy. Shut up.”

“I didn't say anything-,” Killer began, halting when his captain cut him off with a growling warning.

“-It was a preemptive ‘shut up,’ Kil,” Kid barked, raising his tankard and taking a hefty gulp of his ale, “A ‘shut up,’ just in case you were gonna say somethin’ stupid.” He mumbled, turning his gaze back to where you and Heat were now facing one another.

“And what stupid thing was I gonna say, Cap?” Killer’s smirk was felt in every word, much to Kid’s chagrin. The Red-Haired captain turned his shoulders and shifted his stance to flare directly in the beady holes in Killer’s blue and white mask.

“I dunno, man. Somethin’ like: ‘You’re in love with the ship's counselor and you're too much of a coward to do anythin’ about it’,” Kid mocked in a voice not unlike the first-mate, which prompted Killer to give him a playful punch in the shoulder.

“And what then?” Killer added, raising his ale beneath the edge of his mask and taking a quick, sneaky sip, “What would you say to this ‘something stupid’, hm?” Killer teased his captain, nudging him with his shoulder.

Kid took a final gaze at you as you turned to meet your eyes with him. As soon as your orbs met with his, Eustass Kid felt a tug on his heartstrings in a way he could not describe. Something between wanting, craving, and longing.

“I would say you’re right, Kil,” Kid spoke in a voice so low that Killer had to strain his ears to hear that weighty confession. “I’m in love with my counselor.” You shot him a soft wink before turning back to your dance partner, inviting Wire into your twirling and shimmying.

“And what are you gonna do about it, Cap?” Killer urged him on, kicking his shin with his boot-heel and breaking Kid out of his momentary hypnosis. Kid pondered for a moment, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body as you urged Heat and Wire towards the bar and attempt to get the barkeeper’s attention.

“I think I’m gonna get another drink at the bar,” he hummed, a slow grin tugging up at his cheeks as he noticed your casual gaze at him over your shoulder, “And then I’m gonna dance with my counselor some. Show 'em how it's really done.”

Captain Kid downed the last of his tankard before sliding the chair out from beneath him, kicking it back and uncaring as to where it landed. Stomping over towards the bar, he hooked his right arm around your waist and tugged you to press your left hip against his right before ordering another round for his crew with a grinning bark.

“Go get ‘em, Cap,” Killer whispered under his breath before bobbing his head to the new beat.

#one piece #x reader #one piece x reader #op kid #eustass kid #eustass captain kid #kid x reader #op kid x reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece fluff #eustass kid fluff #ask snail #snail answers

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eggluverz · 1 year ago

Note

Ooh, I loved your IL Dan Heng request where he realizes that Reader is no longer around and flips quickly trying to find them out of sheer anxiety that those who still hate Dan Feng would take out their hatred and vengeance on them.

I actually want to try and request fem!Reader getting attacked by a group who just want to hurt Dan Heng through attacking his beloved. But his beloved is no damsel in distress, and fights them off, extremely angry that they are attacking her to hurt Dan Heng for a crime he is not guilty of and finds it pathetic that they continue to hold a grudge against someone who has long passed, not adhering to the Vidyadhara laws that Dan Feng’s sins have been washed away. She tears into them, defending Dan Heng with everything as she beats their ass in an emotional rage with tears that’s only stopped because Jing Yuan has to prevent an Incident from happening even though he would gleefully let her continue beating them down.

Reader is upset that they want to hurt and cause Dan Heng pain. She could care less about them trying to torture or assassinate her.

But Reader still gets injured much to Dan Heng’s guilt and anguish and he blames himself for what happened after he arrives at the scene when he sensed that something was wrong.

Reader proceeds to reassure him that none of it is his fault.

SHOULD’VE BEEN THERE

PAIRING. dan heng x f!reader

CONTENT WARNING. swearing, reader gets slightly injured and is bleeding, mentions of blood and cut wounds

WORD COUNT. 2,317

SUMMARY. you and dan heng are exploring the xianzhou luofu and you get surrounded by a group of assassins who want to hurt you to get to dan heng. you decide to teach them not to mess with your partner.

SOF’S NOTE. hihi!! thank u for liking my something shiny this way comes fic :3 sorry this took a while to get out but i still hope u enjoy!! badass reader was fun to write ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ she a cool bean ! LOL ty for the request xx

The Imbibitor Lunae Dan Feng wasn’t exactly known for being a beloved figure. Like many infamous individuals of history, there were some who hated him, while others continued their almost unnerving worship.

At the Xianzhou Luofu, the opinions of the general public were mixed and even carried onto his reincarnation. Some would rather have Dan Heng return to the position of leadership, while others wanted him gone from the very land his past life once considered home.

And while Dan Heng thought it’d best to separate himself from his past, he did see the value in learning about the culture and history of the Xianzhou as well as the Vidyadhara. As his partner, you were simply glad he wanted you along during the times he felt the need to revisit the Xianzhou Luofu or indulge in their delicacies.

You accompanied him in enough instances that some of the vendors even knew the two of you by name and what your favorite orders were. It wouldn’t have been a surprise it some locals were familiar with the two of you as well.

Today, you both decided to explore the Xianzhou Luofu separately in the morning, and then meet up late afternoon for a meal together. You wanted to try this tea spot in Aurum Alley you hadn’t heard of before. The tea was said to, somehow, make the consumers feel really good and it intrigued you enough to want to go with Dan Heng.

However, your plans of wandering around and enjoying some time alone was cut short when a group of individuals suddenly appeared around you.

You startled at the sight. The must’ve been been using cloudhymn magic for you not to notice their presence at all until they revealed themselves. After the initial surprise, your body instantly relaxed as you prepared for a fight. Judging by the looks on their faces’, it didn’t seem like they were friendly fans of the Astral Express crew just looking for an autograph.

Plastering a smile on your face to turned to the man closest to you. “Can I help you guys?”

He scowled but remained wordless, feeling like he was too important to speak to the likes of you.

You frowned. “It’s not very nice to ignore people.”

“Since when did we say we want to be nice to you?” another group member scoffed, already drawing his blade. “Dan Feng’s whore.”

Murmurs and grunts of agreement sounded from the rest of the group.

Sighing, you placed on hand on your hip and your other on the shaft of your spear. You had many issues with that sentiment. One, you weren’t a whore— You were his partner. And two, if you were a whore, you’d for sure be one only for Dan Heng. Not this old, dead man named Dan Feng people kept going on about.

“I’m getting a little annoyed here, but I’ll give you one chance,” you said calmly, trying not to lose your patience. “Leave me alone and I’ll pretend this never happened.”

“Or what?” one lady chimed in.

With a huff, you quickly scanned the circle of people. The group wasn’t too large; there were only about four individuals around you with their weapons now at the ready. You reckoned they must’ve had some skill, given they were able to use the cloudhymn magic typically practiced by assassins, but you were confident you could hold your own and knock them out by yourself if you needed to.

You tapped your foot and pursed your lips. “You don’t want to know the or what.” There was a mocking laugh to your side and you quickly turned to him with your eyebrows raised. “Is something funny?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You’re not scary at all.”

“She’s just as pathetic as that sorry reincarnation of Dan Feng,” another snickered, nudging your back with the hilt of his sword.

The woman in front of you shook her head, looking down at you. “No one is as pathetic as that traitor.”

Anger surged through you at his words. Dan Heng was so much more than Dan Feng’s reincarnation. He was his own person— A strong, kind, intelligent person at that. And he wasn’t pathetic. In an instant, you knocked the sword out of your ambusher’s hands with a swift kick and pointed the blunt end of your polearm at the woman who insulted him next.

“You want to say that again?” you scowled, prodding her shoulder roughly in warning.

When you moved your weapon, the man behind you swung his sword at your side and you just barely managed to dodge, the blade leaving a long cut across your upper arm. You flinched at the sting but ignored it. You felt small drops of blood begin to roll down onto your elbow, but you sensed the cut wasn’t deep enough for you to be truly concerned. It was nothing compared to what you would do to them if they said one more negative thing about Dan Heng.

They could hurt you and call you names. That you didn’t care about; you could handle yourself. Sure, you might cry a little after the event took place, but when it came to it, you could hold your own. But when they continually kept insulting Dan Heng, you knew you had to put your foot down.

Your partner, your beloved, has been through enough shit without having random strangers who didn’t even know him talking behind his back. This particular group even went as far as trying to harass you simply because of your association with him.

You wouldn’t stand for it. You couldn’t— It hurt your own heart just hearing them badmouth him.

Red flooded your vision as you glared at the group with your weapon in a readied position, “You only need to look in the mirror if you want to see what pathetic truly is. No need to bring Dan Heng into this.”

The group matched your stance and you rolled your eyes before swinging your polearm in a low sweep to knock two ambushers to the floor. Before you could use your weapon correctly and strike the next assailant, a booming voice sounded from your side.

“Now, now. If we’re going to resort to violence, please do it away from the innocent civilians nearby.”

The group of assassins around you straightened up in an instant at the sound of Jing Yuan and the marching Cloud Knights behind him.

While you were half relieved to see Jing Yuan, the other half of you wanted him to go away so you could enjoy beating the shit out of these idiots who insulted Dan Heng. That would certainly teach them not to spew nonsense about things they did not know.

The group silently disbanded and disappeared as they ran away, trying to avoid the clutches of Jing Yuan’s men who were soon on their heels. You frowned at their cowardly escape. They couldn’t even stand to face the lawful consequences of their actions?

“As much as I would’ve enjoyed seeing your execution of justice, I don’t think Dan Heng would want to see you potentially get more injured,” Jing Yuan said with a small smile. “They are assassins, after all.” He examined your arm from a distance before walking up to you and offering a hand.

You accepted, looking down at your bleeding arm with a slight wince. “They barely even nicked me…”

Jing Yuan shook his head, a fond look on his face despite his chastisement. Before he could sterilize it for you, you two spotted Dan Heng running over. His spear was by his side and his expression was frantic as he ran towards you.

“Y/N! Are you alright?” called Dan Heng, his breathing heavy partly from physical exertion, but mostly from worry. “I saw Cloud Knights tracking down some people under the influence of cloudhymn magic.” His brows furrowed as he finally reached you and Jing Yuan, most likely remembering his last encounter with assassins using the same technique. “Did you see them? Are you okay?”

Jing Yuan glanced at the guilty look on your face before giving your arm a squeeze and nodding once to Dan Heng. “I shall let the two of you continue this conversation alone. Until we cross paths again.”

Your eyes widened at his quick goodbye. “Hopefully our next meeting will be for better reasons. Thanks, Jing Yuan!”

“Don’t mention it.” He turned to Dan Heng before he left. “Stay safe and vigilant, Dan Heng.”

As he walked away, you noticed Dan Heng scanning every inch of your body, eyes clouded with anxiety as he took in Jing Yuan’s words and the cut on your arm.

Silence stretched between the two of you before he finally spoke up. When he talked, his tone was unsettling. “Who did this to you? Was it the assassins?”

Your gaze softened as his fists tightened in concern. “Yes,” you admitted, gently putting his hands in yours as you ran your thumb over his knuckles. “But I’m okay, they didn’t hurt me.”

Dan Heng looked at you in disbelief.

“This just needs to be cleaned and bandaged, is all,” you reassured with a small smile. “I’m sure the bruises I left on them are worse.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“But I’m okay,” you said, soft but firm.

You gazed stubbornly at him and Dan Heng returned the look, neither of you backing down. Eventually, Dan Heng sighed, squeezing his eyes shut at the sight of the bloodstain on your shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said with an almost imperceptible quiver in his voice. “I should’ve been there for you.”

“Hey, don’t say that.” You frowned, lightly cupping his jaw to lift his head that had fallen to the floor. “You’re always there for me; I know it.”

“Not enough, apparently.”

Dan Heng’s complexion was paler than normal. You could tell this was really eating him up inside.

“You couldn’t have known I was going to get ambushed by cloudhymn magic users,” you said, trying to console him. “If you did, I know you wouldn’t have left me alone. But you didn’t know, and so I did my best to handle them myself— And I would’ve kicked their sorry asses for insulting your character if Jing Yuan hadn’t stopped the fight.”

Dan Heng’s expression softened at that, a hint of an amused smile forming on his face. “They would’ve felt sorry for trying to harm you if they knew of your skill, that’s for certain.” He reached out to hold your forearm in his hand, examining the cut with a sigh. “I just hate that you got hurt because of me.”

You shook your head at his wrongful connection. “I got hurt because of the idiot assassins, not because of you.”

“Didn’t they want to harm you because of your relation to me?”

“Yes, but that just means they’re delusional and stuck in the past and wanted to hurt us both,” you reasoned, watching carefully as Dan Heng pulled a first aid kit out of your bag and began to clean you up. “You did not hurt me, Dan Heng. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He let your words sink in as he sterilized your wound, rubbing the sensitive skin on your inner forearm soothingly as he sensed you tightening up at the sting of pain. Once he disposed of the bloodied cloth, he wrapped a bandage around your triceps and secured the ends.

You admired his work with a proud grin. “Good as new. Thank you!”

Dan Heng released a huff of laughter as he patted the top of your head before kissing it. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I hope it will heal soon.”

“As long as you kiss me daily to make the wound heal faster!”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works,” he mused. You poured and he looked at you fondly. “For you, I’ll give it a try.” Dan Heng placed three kisses on your face—one on your forehead, one on your left cheek, and one on your right—and one kiss on your bandaged arm. “If I give you multiple kisses a day then, will it heal even sooner?”

You nodded eagerly, gesturing to your mouth with a teasing glint in your eye. “Definitely! And there’s one place to kiss so it’ll heal the fastest.”

Dan Heng smiled. “I believe I know the place you are referring to, but we’ll save that for when we’re in private.”

You jutted your bottom lip out and batted your eyelashes at him. “Just a little one?”

He wasn’t much for excessive public displays of affection. You were rather embarrassed by it yourself. But in this moment, it felt as if it were just the two of you on the entire Luofu.

Unable to resist the pleasing look on your face, Dan Heng humored you with a chaste kiss on your lips. It was plush and warm and, while the two of you wanted more, it was enough to satiate you for now.

“Is that better?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad to hear.” He took your hand in his, carefully interlacing his slender fingers with yours. “Thank you for looking after me, even when I’m not there. I’m glad you have my back. I will always have yours as well,” he vowed. “I’ll always be here for you.”

As the promise left his mouth, you knew each word was one he meant from the heart. Dan Heng meant the world to you, and you would stop at nothing to protect him. And you knew he would do the same. You saw it through his actions, and now, he told you with his words.

Your stomach warmed and your heart squeezed, feeling touched by his declaration.

“I know you will,” you stated, a confident shimmer in your eyes as you met his headstrong ones. “And I will always be here for you, too.”

#dan heng x reader #dan heng il x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng #honkai star rail #hsr #dan heng il #hsr fanfiction #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #dan heng fluff #dan heng imagines

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nyctoaerah · 7 months ago

Text

⋆♱⋆WISH GRANTED CH: 1

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS In which Eyeless Jack developed an infatuation for a grade A detective and ends up granting her wishes in a twisted way.

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS Infidelity, Death, Yandere Behaviors (duh) Other triggering stuff.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS Yandere! Eyeless Jack x Fem! Detective! Reader

⋆♱⋆NOTE Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3.

⋆♱⋆MASTERLIST

TAKING OUT A PICTURE of someone who was reported missing from your briefcase, you smoothly placed it on the table. With a quick movement, you grabbed a red marker from your briefcase and decisively drew a bold ‘x’ across the person’s face.

“Another missing person that got killed,”

You let out a weary sigh as your eyes remained focused on Jhenicca, your closest confidant and fellow detective. Both of you were dedicated to solving crimes together, forming an inseparable partnership in the field. However, it was important to note that you held a higher rank and possessed more experience in comparison to your junior colleague, Jhenicca.

Jhenicca’s brows creased as her emerald green eyes bore into your [E/c] ones.

“Seriously? Another one?”

Jhenicca let out a deep, anguished groan expressing her displeasure at the fact that an increasing number of individuals were disappearing, only to be discovered lifeless later on.

“Yeah, seriously.” You uttered those words, your face devoid of any emotion.

“Ah, well, it doesn't really matter anyway.” Jhenicca uttered in a low voice, her eyes wandering aimlessly, diverting her attention from yours.

“Just give the damn information, [N/n]” Jhenicca asked for the necessary information and specifics during your conversation. You set the red marker down, signaling the start of a conversation that was about to take a somber turn.

“The victim was named Katarina Smith. She vanished four days ago after entering a forrest. Her lifeless body was discovered in an abandoned building inside the forrest,"

You revealed the information. As an exceptional and highly skilled investigator, you were entrusted with leading the inquiry into the mysterious disappearances, wherein the victims were consistently discovered with horrifying injuries or their vital organs, such as the kidneys, inexplicably gone. This disturbing pattern of events has persisted over the course of the last four months, leaving you feeling increasingly weary and overwhelmed due to the sheer volume of cases being assigned to you.

“We can go to the crime scene later and look for some evidence.”

You suggested and jhenicca nodded solemnly.

“So what do we know about the previous victims?” Jhenicca questioned you as her brows knitted, obviously disturbed.

You reached into your briefcase once again and pulled out a file containing the information you had gathered so far.

“There have been fifteen victims before Katarina,”

You began, flipping through the pages. “All of them went missing under similar circumstances—last seen entering a forrest, and then found dead on different sides of the Forrest.”

“Fifteen.”

Jhenicca breathed out and slammed her fist on your table, creating a loud banging sound and you sighed in exasperation, placing your hand on your forehead as your brows creased and your jaw locked.

“I know, i know.”

You mumbled, exasperated.

“Fifteen fucking people have been going missing for about 4 months now and we still can’t fucking get a single trace or clue about the perpetrator!”

Jhennica’s seethed with anger, clearly expressing her deep disappointment regarding the sluggishness of your progress. However, it is hard to deny her feelings, as you yourself are also disappointed with the current situation.

“Calm down.”

You tried to calm her down.

“What do you mean calm down?”

Jhenicca glared at you, running a hand through her blond locks.

“[Name]! We can’t go around relaxing when people are going missing and dying!”

Jhenicca exclaimed, causing you to feel increasingly frustrated. However, despite your annoyance, you made an effort to maintain your composure. Deep down, you acknowledged that Jhenicca had a valid point. It wasn’t as if you were idly lounging around; in reality, you had been pushing yourself to the limit, tirelessly working nonstop in order to achieve any sort of progress—And you were tired, so fucking tired.

Feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, you let out a heavy sigh, massaging your temples with your fingertips to alleviate the mounting tension.

“I know, i know” You spoke incoherently and indistinctly, barely making any audible sounds. “However, it is essential for you to regain composure initially, for it will enable us to thoroughly evaluate the circumstances at hand and make an accurate assessment."”

With a slightly narrowed gaze and furrowed brows, you expressed to her, causing Jhenicca to let out an exasperated huff and divert her gaze from you.

“Calm down my ass,”

She mumbles.

You experienced a sudden involuntary contraction in your eye, causing it to twitch.

“Cease behaving in such an immature and obstinate manner, don’t be a fucking brat” Feeling exasperated by her obnoxious behavior, you let out a disapproving sound while your level of professionalism momentarily dissipates. Jhenicca, in response, disdainfully looks away, disregarding your reaction.

“Fuck you.”

She glared at you.

“Fuck you too.”

Jhenicca releases a sarcastic laugh, displaying her annoyance towards the unexpected and abrupt eruption of emotions from you.

“Okay, whatever, but we still need to find any pattern or connection between these victims,”

Jhenicca made a suggestion, her voice hinting at a lingering annoyance. In response, you scornfully chuckled, casting your gaze downwards.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you took in a deep breath before quietly uttering a small apology for your earlier outburst.

However, Jhenicca breezed past your apology, choosing to disregard it completely as she proceeded with her speech.

“Do you think it could provide us with valuable clues regarding the murderer's identity? Is there anything notable connecting all of the victims that you've observed?” she asked.

Once you regained a sense of inner tranquility, you visibly expressed your agreement by giving a reassuring nod. Resting your hand gently upon your chin, you directed your gaze towards Jhenicca, deep in thought.

“The victims share several similarities among themselves. Firstly, they all belong to the young adult age group, specifically individuals in their twenties. Secondly, they had a common habit of visiting and spending time in the same forest. Lastly, their disappearances occurred exclusively during the weekends, further emphasizing this pattern of occurrence.” You provided a clear explanation.

“Based on the autopsy reports, it seems that their kidneys were removed post-mortem, suggesting a potential organ trafficking angle. However, the brutality of the killings indicates a possibly cannibalistic tendencies as well.”

You have provided an explanation regarding the reason behind those individuals having their organs removed. It is feasible to consider the possibility of a cannibal being involved, particularly since you had previously delved into the topic through various cannibal documentaries during your college years.

“We need to gather more evidence and dig deeper into the victims' backgrounds.”

You said, tapping on your chin.

“We need to find any connections they might have had, both among themselves and with potential suspects. We’ll also increase surveillance on houses that are close in that forrest, for they frequented in the hope of catching any suspicious activities.”

You informed and you were taken aback when, out of nowhere, the entrance to your workspace abruptly swung ajar, unveiling the presence of your beloved partner, Earl.

Earl is also a skilled investigator who happens to be employed within the same institution as you. He had a pile of papers held in one hand while balancing some cups of refreshing iced coffee in his other hand.

“Good morning, Love”he greeted with a pleasant tone, his words carrying warmth and friendliness. With a gleeful expression, he curved his lips upward, directing his gaze towards Jhenicca with the intention of acknowledging her presence as he nodded approvingly.

“Good morning to you too!”Jhenicca extended a warm welcome. You let out a frustrated breath and directed your gaze towards Earl.

“Kindly knock on the door to gain permission before stepping inside the room.” Shaking your head in dismay, you expressed your disapproval through scolding, while Earl nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, revealing his indifference.

“* apologize for the interruption, but I have something of utmost significance to share,” your partner apologized politely, presenting you with a substantial collection of documents and carefully arranging them on the surface of your desk.

“Really?” Jhenicca’s eyelids fluttered momentarily, as a reflexive response to stimuli.

“What is the matter?”

You inquired, fixating your gaze directly into the deep, mahogany irises of Earl.

“There has been an increase in the number of individuals who have disappeared, and upon closer examination, it is evident that the specifics align with the characteristics observed in the previous instances.”

As your eyes briefly skimmed across the pile of documents placed right in front of you, a complex blend of unease and exasperation manifested on your face.

The news you were presently receiving was far from ideal, pushing against your desire for a different outcome, particularly since you and your diligent team had invested an immense amount of time and effort into probing the perplexing string of disappearances that had preceded this moment. Jhenicca, noticing the identical emotional response on her own countenance, mirrored your sentiments precisely upon digesting the given information.

“Anyways, i brought some coffee for you, love,” As you observed, Earl gently placed the refreshing iced coffee onto your desk, and a sense of appreciation washed over you, causing a grateful smile to adorn your face while simultaneously feeling a soothing wave of relaxation engulfing your being.

“Thanks love—”

You initiated speaking, however, Jhenicca interjected, causing you to immediately cease speaking and keeping your lips sealed.

“No coffee for me? I’m feeling left out you know?” Jhenicca’s eyebrow arched in amusement as she voiced her playful disappointment regarding the lack of coffee being offered to her. As you observed the situation, a flicker of surprise crossed your face, signaling that you were starting to grasp the peculiarly close bond between Jhenicca and your boyfriend. A peculiar sense of discomfort started to take hold of you, yet you struggled to identify the exact source of this unease.

‘Since where were they this close?’

You pondered quietly as you watched the two interact.

Earl couldn’t help but chuckle in response to Jhenicca’s witty remark, as he placed yet another refreshing iced coffee on the desk, hoping to soothe her slight disappointment expressed through her adorable pouting expression.

With a wide smile, he uttered,

“Here, don’t sulk.” Jhenicca beamed with happiness as she conveyed her appreciation. Earl emitted a light-hearted laughter, brushing off the situation, which left you with an indescribable sense of being left out, lingering persistently within you. Earl comfortably took his place on the nearby chair, gently resting his head on your shoulder as he curiously asked,

“Anyway, love, Can you provide an update on the current status of the situation? Have there been any advancements in identifying and apprehending the person responsible for the incident?”

He asked and as you were preparing to articulate a response, Jhenicca abruptly interjected once more, causing a subtle expression of displeasure to form on your face. It became increasingly apparent that since Earl’s arrival, Jhenicca had consistently been interrupting your attempts to contribute to the conversation.

“Welllll”

Jhenicca said, making sure to stretch the word.

“Nope!”

Jhenicca’s wide grin appeared on her face, attempting to portray an endearing demeanor that caused you to cringe internally; she resembled someone who was seeking attention—a fucking pick me.

It would have been more appropriate for her to exhibit a serious demeanor, considering the gravity of the topic at hand. It perplexed you how she could switch from being angered to acting as cheerful as a ray of sunshine. The sudden shift in her behavior left you contemplating whether to request her to remain silent and allow you to express yourself, but you opted to restrain from doing so.

“Unfortunately, we’ve been giving it our all, but we haven’t found any leads,”

You finally explained with a sigh and Earl frowned once he heard that information, he felt disappointed.

You then took a deep breath.

“However, I do have a theory. It’s possible that the serial killer is also a cannibal.”

Earl blinked in disbelief, but he considered the idea.

“Really? That’s quite an unexpected twist.”

Before you could elaborate and explain all the details about your theory, jhenicca interjected once more so you just chose to remain silent, a tinge of annoyance crossed your expression but it quickly disappeared.

“I agree! I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Jhenicca said.

“Ah right! Do you know that there are similarities between the victims?”

Jhenicca began to converse with your boyfriend and as you sipped on your refreshing iced coffee, Earl glanced in your direction, expressing his acknowledgement through a subtle nod. Soon after, the two individuals initiated a conversation which took a meandering path, encompassing diverse topics.

However, a significant portion of their discussion revolved around the various homicide cases you had been diligently investigating. As you attentively observed Jhenicca and Earl engrossed in their dialogue, it became apparent that a strong connection existed between them. Unexpectedly, the serenity of the moment was abruptly disturbed by the sound of your phone ringing, breaking the tranquility in the air. Jhenicca’s eyes blinked, briefly closing and opening again.

“I thought you had your phone on do not disturb?”Jhenicca inquired, and you shook your head.

“Not quite. As a detective, every call or text holds significance, you should be aware of that,” you responded, slightly exasperated. Setting your coffee aside, you retrieved your phone from your pocket, and your eyes widened as you read the message. your eyes suddenly lit up and a faint smile made its way to your face.

Finally, an evidence, after four fucking months, there was finally an evidence.

“Ouch, so harsh.”

Jhenicca's expression turned into a pout at your stern words.

Your eye twitched in annoyance, caused by the tone she adopted. Normally, she spoke to you in a different manner, but this time it was almost childlike, which bothered you without any clear explanation as to why she was behaving that way.

Earl curiously asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s the headquarters. They’ve discovered some evidence at the crime scene,” you informed, and Earl hummed thoughtfully.

“That’s wonderful.”

Earl said with a smile.

“Really? That’s an excellent news!” Jhenicca beamed

“Yes, I’m glad too”

You replied with a closed eyed smile

Then suddenly, a phone call interrupted,you looked at your phone to see who called and it was the headquarters, perhaps they had something important to say and you couldn’t risk missing it.

“The headquarters is on the line,” you announced.

“Oh.”

Earl seemed disappointed since he wanted to talk to you more while jhenicca didn't have a reaction.

“I need to have a private conversation with them, so I’ll leave you two here,” you informed, gently shifting Earl’s head from your shoulder before standing up.

You planted a tender kiss on Earl's cheek, eliciting a smile from him.

“I won’t take long, don’t worry.”

You reassured him because you saw his disappointed face and Earl’s face lit up from your words.

“Alright, Stay safe,” Earl said, returning your smile as you made your way towards the office exit.

However, from the corner of your eye, you caught Earl discreetly wiping off the kiss, causing a frown to form on your face. And the way Jhenicca glanced at your boyfriend was different, stirring a sense of unease within you.

Your intuition was telling you that something was wrong.

Tension pervaded the atmosphere within your office, akin to an unuttered secret that lingered ever since your departure to answer the call from the headquarters. Earl’s face carried the weight of guilt, mirroring the guilty conscience that resided within him, while Jhenicca appeared unbothered, portraying an effortless and carefree demeanor that juxtaposed the tension.

It was astonishing to earl that he and jhenicca had embarked on this path. The hidden relationship between him and Jhenicca had been going on clandestinely for a significant period of nine months. Initially, it had been a mere coincidence, encounter in a bar where their paths crossed unexpectedly. However, as fate would have it, the influence of alcohol led them to hook up that night. From that moment, their connection deepened, and it evolved into an ongoing affair, causing Earl to experience overwhelming guilt for cheating on you.

“We are truly betraying [Name] by engaging in secret meetings,” Earl whispered, causing Jhenicca to recline comfortably in her chair, propping her feet up on the desk without a care, even if it meant potentially crushing important documents beneath her soles.

With a piercing gaze, she interrogated, “Between the two of us—Me and [Name], whom do you love more? Me or her?"

Feeling his throat tighten, Earl mustered the courage to respond, “You.”

Jhenicca let out an exasperated sigh, her frustration apparent as she exclaimed,

“Then what’s the big deal? We love each other, don’t we? Don’t worry, [Name] will never find out.”

...

As their conversation fell upon your ears, tears began to well up in your eyes, their meaning hitting you with full force. Suddenly, everything started to make sense. Their closeness, the way Jhenicca gazed at Earl with adoration, it was all clear now. They had been hiding their secret involvement from you, deceiving you right under your nose. The pain that came rushing over you was nearly unbearable, as the person you once loved and cherished had betrayed you with none other than your best friend. The mere thought of Jhenicca turning out to be a backstabber had never even crossed your mind. Clenching your fists tightly, you fought against the overwhelming urge to burst into the room, confront them both, and scream at them.

In that moment, your heart seemed to shatter into innumerable fragments, completely consumed by an uncontrollable whirlwind of emotions—anger, sadness, and most of all, a profound feeling of betrayal.

As you clutched your chest, your face contorted with pain, the weight of their conversation pierced your heart like a sharp knife. Earlier, you had received a brief call from headquarters, urgently instructing you to gather important documents and return to your office. Obediently, you started making your way back, determined to fulfill your responsibilities. However, fate had different plans for you that day. Along the corridor, their familiar voices reached your ears, luring you in with an irresistible curiosity. Against your better judgment, you couldn’t resist the urge to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Little did you know, the words exchanged between them would shatter your heart into countless irreparable shards.

The shock and disbelief hit you like a ton of brick. Anger immediately surged within you, a fiery mix of self-blame for not recognizing the signs sooner and directed towards those who had so callously betrayed you. It was all becoming too much to bear.

Overwhelmed with a whirlwind of emotions, tears welled up in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably. The pain you felt was indescribable, as if your entire world had come crashing down in an instant. Without a second thought, you hastily abandoned the familiar surroundings of the police station, leaving your colleagues behind. Although they called out to you with genuine concern, their voices only seemed like distant echoes in your ears.

Racing through the chaos of your own thoughts and emotions, you let instinct guide your trembling steps. The city streets blurred into a haze as you hurriedly made your way through the crowd. Every footfall was a desperate attempt to escape the anguish that threatened to consume you entirely. People glanced in your direction, their curious gazes fleeting, yet you were oblivious to their existence. All that mattered at that moment was finding solace.

Filled with a potent blend of frustration and exasperation, you hastily made your way towards the vast expanse of the parking lot, an irrefutable reflection of your inner turmoil. As your trembling hands grasped tightly onto the cold metal of your car keys, a surge of determination propelled you to forcefully insert the key into the lock, unleashing a resounding ‘click.’

Seeking solace within the confined space, you were driven to hastily enter your vehicle, forcefully slamming the door shut with an air of finality. Unchecked tears cascaded down your face, a poignant manifestation of the amalgamation of anger and heartbreak that tightly gripped your soul. “Can’t believe i’m so fucking dumb that i didn’t even get the hint,”

“I helped you, i was there for you, and this is your way of showing gratitude?” you exclaimed with sheer rage, your jaw clenched and your hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. The deluge of intense feelings engulfed every fiber of your being, causing your eyes to well up with tears as you were overcome by an inconsolable fit of sobbing.

“After two fucking years of our love story, you threw it all away as if it held no value or significance?” You were consumed with intense anger and frustration, directing all the blame towards jhenicca. Your anger escalated to such a level that it led you to harbor a desire for something that, upon reflection, you didn’t knew you would later deeply regret.

“I wish you two die in a painful way.”

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

You eventually drive away and returned home, consumed by anger, and unleashed your fury by destroying everything in sight: vases, picture frames, and the gifts Earl had given you. You smashed the vases, threw them on the ground and the wall, tore the pictures apart and ripped the gifts to shreds, you even trew your chair on the ground, and The room was now littered with shattered remnants of your rampage.

After four hours of relentless tears, your eyes were swollen and dry, leaving you devoid of any more tears to shed. Your throat felt parched, and fatigue washed over you, making you drowsy. Your break down caused too many destruction. And In the midst of this overwhelming exhaustion, your phone rang.

you grimaced.

“Probably that cheating bastards.” you muttered angrily, retrieving your phone and reluctantly opening it. The harsh light caused you to wince, but to your relief, it wasn't Jhenicca or Earl on the other end, but rather the headquarters.

With a mix of apprehension and frustration, you answered the call. A chill coursed down your spine as you listened to what they had to say.

“Your Boyfriend and Best friend was found dead.”

#⌞𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 夜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬📝 ⌝#yandere x reader #yandere creepypasta #yandere eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta #yandere creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x you #dark themes #cw: gore #dark yandere

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fynsh · 4 months ago

Text

Everyone has a special talent they are admired for but Fox just keeps pretending

Fox may not have Cody's brilliant tactical mind, Wolffe's great resilience, Bly's incredible adaptability or Pond's patient emotional genius, but all CCs - to a certain extent - shared qualities that enabled them to inspire brothers to follow them into any battle. They didn't brag about it but over the course of the war the GAR clearly noticed their commanders and ranking officers excelling in difficult missions, paving new ways by taking personal risks and eventually creating methods better than reg standards.

Fox batchers were aware nobody could outmatch him in his directional subtlety. Other would have called him manipulative but that didn't sit right with them. He used his talent to support his brothers, not to harm them. The batch knew their youngest brother was always able to catch what went unnoticed by others but they didn't always realize he could also hide anything in plain sight.

His ability to pretend was a gift morphing into a curse. Fox pretended to punish troopers ruthlessly while actually saving them from greater harm that could not be undone. It slowly turned into the GAR believing the Guard's Marshall Commander was a heartless und cruel Fierfek. Fox welcomed this portrayal to keep as many brothers as far away from the Guard's grounds as possible. His fellow Guard commanders started feeding into the narrative by joining forces with him and stripping their men of their individual armor paints. Better to keep everyone away from 000 and endure the hostility of the ones you were designated to protect on your own.

During the first year of the war his brothers tried to counteract the rumors spreading about Fox and his Guard. They knew him as a sensible and protective brother so there had to be reasoning to his actions. Fox didn't bother to elaborate. The constant deployments kept the batch apart and messages from the front lines became few and far in between.

Fox hadn't been in contact with the GAR outside of official business for months now. Until news of his oldest brother being shot by a cadet pinged on his comm. The whole incident was kept off the datapads so he wasn't able to read up any additional info. Fox felt an icicle lodge into his trachea. He rushed to the healing wards as he was ordered to accompany High General Windu safely back and forth between checking on his units and talking to the Chancellor.

General Windu was whispering to a healer from the Jedi temple who he seemed to have put in charge of taking care of his heavily injured commander. Standing in front of the bacta tank was a cadet in non standard clothing, his shoulders set straight under the thick natborn style robes and his face turned up towards the lifeless face distorted by the gelatinous healing substance. Reflected in the thick transparisteel Fox noticed a familiar blank stare and lips set into a thin line. The cadet was clearly pretending to not be affected by looking into the face of a practically dead brother. What was he doing here, alone and away from his brigade?

General Windu turned towards the Guard and signed for them to wait for further instructions. They saluted in perfect unison and kept their position. Behind his helmet Fox eyes drifted to the figure suspended in bacta. His heart rate was dangerously slow, his usual exhaustion drowned by the anguish crawling up his spine trying to claw its way out through his clenched teeth and part his lips unbidden. When was the last time he had seen his brother face to face?

The hole inside his chest kept growing and churning and he barely kept it beneath the surface when running on no sleep and food, only caf. However, there was no use in dwelling on past decisions and paths diverging. He didn't regret keeping his batchmates away. Fox knew with them around the smallest outwardly shown signs could endanger their carefully crafted image, his brothers weren't dumb and maybe the Jedi were actually as perceptive as he was led to believe by reports and talks inside of the GAR.

So Fox pretended to be indifferent. He was okay. As the Head of the Jedi Order eventually started moving towards them and addressed Fox personally with unprompted reassurance of his brother being in the most capable hands, the Marshall Commander only thanked him formally and on behalf of the clones for going beyond standard measures to save Republic property. Windu seemed taken aback before swiftly moving out of the healing wards without sparing another look at the Guard falling in step behind him. Fox didn't look back at the two brothers staying behind. He still felt the heavy stare at the back of his bucket. Everything was fine.

Ponds definitely would have picked up on the atypical stiffness in Fox' gait, but his oldest brother might not call him out on his bluffs ever again.

I'm not sure about this drabble as it took a different direction than I intended. It also doesn't properly convey the desperation of reaching your goal of keeping as many people as possible safe from harm at the expense of your own safety net

#star wars #star wars clone wars #star wars tcw #clone commanders #commander fox #commander ponds #light angst #brainworms leave plotholes

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her-satanic-wiles · 1 year ago

Text

October 29th

Breathplay, Swiss x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 4.2k.

Warnings: Breathplay; choking; Ghoul!Reader; public beginning; semi-public ending; public dry humping; dubcon; listen, I can’t help myself, okay?; they get real fucking awkward someone slap ‘em; finger sucking; fingering; squirting; positive degradation (took me 29 days but we got there in the end); possessive (if you squint); dacrophilia; unprotected sex; piv; vaginal sex; I went feral lmao; spit kink; cock warming;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog @saturnhas82moons

Author's Note: Major thanks to @da-rulah for giving me this idea, like legit, this was all her idea. She’s the organ grinder, I’m just the monkey. Inspired by… recent events.

Recommended listening: Hypnosis by Sleep Token.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

It started with Dewdrop.

You danced on your podium stage, the roar of the crowd echoing in your ears as Watcher In The Sky droned on. The blinding spotlight followed your every move as you took your place behind the microphone, a sea of faces stretching out before you. The anticipation in the air was electric, and you could feel the bass thumping through the stage floor, matching the rhythm of your racing heart.

From the corner of your eye, underneath the mask, you saw him charging towards Dew at an alarming rate, his broad shoulders tense and fists clenched. It didn’t register fully until you got a good view of his body, and then you realised it was Swiss. Swiss was usually feral during this song - you’d seen clips of him online afterwards if you’d missed it during the concert. But usually he kept his insanity to his corner of the stage. Not tonight, though. Tonight he was gunning for the source of his anguish - tonight he was racing towards Dewdrop and his guitar that was loudly whining in everyone’s ears.

The first time it happened, it was just a scream. Well, a scream and a bite, but it wasn’t anything more than that. Harmless, really… even though it did set you on edge. There was something equally thrilling yet terrifying about seeing this big, burly man, who was usually the sweetest guy, angrily charge at someone so small in comparison; but also knowing that he had gained the confidence to wander around. You weren’t forbidden to leave your individual stages per se, but Papa did prefer it if you stayed in your place.

This was also amongst all the things he was doing with the other Ghouls - namely with Aurora. The way he got on his knees for her every time Cirice played, every time he pretended to pleasure her, sent shockwave after shockwave through your body. And the night they kissed? You felt the green-eyed-monster make an ugly appearance, and wished that was you.

The next time it happened, things got a little more… heated. His strong hands wrapped themselves around Dew, engulfing his entire hip and front. His large frame dwarfed the Ghoul in comparison and completely hid him from your view. You couldn’t see what Swiss was doing to him, but judging by the repetitive movements his arm and shoulder were doing you could easily come to a general conclusion.

The third night was worse… so. Much. Worse. You watched as Swiss wrapped his large hand around Dew’s neck, gently choking him while imitating jerking himself off. It definitely shouldn’t have done things to you. It definitely shouldn’t have made you think the things you did. It was just two guys playing around on stage… sure their game got a little sexual, but there was no harm done and the crowd certainly enjoyed it. That night though, as he was walking away, he made eye contact with you and caught your mouth agape. That night, he decided he was going to come and hang out with you for a few songs.

The next day, as you were putting your uniform on and painting your face the typical Ghoul style, a knock wrapped at your door. “Come in!” You shouted. Your body froze when Swiss walked through the door.

“Hey, loser.” He teased as he usually did, leaning up against the door frame. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his gorgeous forearms that were crossed against the broad expanse of his chest - and you weren’t at all staring at the way that position pushed his breasts together to create a tempting amount of cleavage, visible only by the crease of his shirts. The leg he wasn’t resting on had also crossed over his body, and stabled him a little more by the toe of his boots.

You cleared your throat and looked back to the mirror, picking up your black paint box and scooping more up onto your finger. “Hey, loser. Did you not have anything better to do than watch me get ready?”

He tutted. “Now, can’t a guy come and visit his favourite Ghoul before a concert for a little conversation? What if I was Rain, hm?”

“Well, if you were Rain then I’d be much kinder. But you’re you. You want something. Spill.”

He sighed. “Fine,” he raised his hands in defeat, “you got me. How’s about we play a little game on stage tonight?” He walked over to you and stood behind your chair, looking at you in the mirror. His hands rested on your shoulders and gave you a little rub.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll choke you instead of Dew.”

You tried not to react in any incriminating way - this was Swiss you were talking to. If he saw a flicker of anything besides absolute disdain or unbothered attutitudes, he’d rib you for the rest of time. You swallowed, and continued applying your paints. “Why me? The crowd loves that gay shit and what you do to Dew. Hell, they love what you do to Aurora, too.”

“Yes, but,” he leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear, his deep voice dropping low, “you love it, too, don’t you?” You froze. “I’ve caught your face. You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, you know?” He stood back upright. “Unless you actively stop me, I’m going to play with you tonight. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Silence.

He tapped your shoulder and walked out of your dressing room. “See you tonight!”

You stepped onto the stage that night, the bright lights momentarily blinding you. The roar of the crowd echoed through the arena as the music began.Your thoughts kept drifting to Swiss—and whatever the hell it was that he had planned.

Swiss stood there, his presence commanding and his voice a captivating force. His every move seemed to draw you in, and you found it hard to concentrate on your own performance. The lyrics you were supposed to sing became a blur as you watched him, transfixed by his talent and charisma.

You tried to focus on your harmonies and choreography, but Swiss’s magnetic presence was an irresistible distraction. Every time your eyes met his, a spark of connection passed between you, intensifying the infatuation that had taken hold of your heart.

The familiar darkness of Cirice screamed through your in-ears, and you looked back over to Swiss’ podium but he was missing. Nowhere to be found. Given your conversation earlier, and his habit of going feral during Watcher in the Sky, you assumed he would do something then. It wasn’t until you felt his hands around your neck you realised he had other intentions. His fingers clasped your neck as the intro reached its pace change, the tips of each appendage falling onto your throat seductively, as though he were drumming on a desk and using his thumb as an anchor. You felt his helmet connect with yours and his body press up against your back. The longer he stayed there, hands attached to your throat, the tighter they held, squeezing the sides of your esophogus like an anaconda about to feed. Of course, he didn’t restrict your air flow. Of course, his hands tightened in all the correct places that made you feel lightheaded without damaging your body.

Of course he knew how to do that.

You couldn’t hear anything, or take in what else was going on. Your mind was consumed by his hand, and now something else pressing into your hip you didn’t expect to come out and play. The feeling of your pulse quicken sent shockwaves through Swiss’ body upon the realisation that you enjoyed this. You liked feeling his hand around your throat. You liked how hard he was squeezing. He placed his other hand on your hip and, clearly thinking only with his dick, rutted into you. The first time was an accident, he told himself. The second, third and even fourth time was because you felt so good against him, he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t until he heard Papa singing the opening lyric, he remembered where he was, and that you both had to stop. So, he pulled away, and rushed back to his own stage.

After the adrenaline of the concert had faded, you found yourself back in your hotel room, still buzzing with the memory of Swiss’s hands haunting your mind, and you swore you could still feel his fingers ghosting your skin. As you tried to unwind, there was a sudden knock on your hotel room door.

Startled, you crossed the room and opened the door to find Swiss standing there, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. He had sought you out, and it was clear he wanted to talk.

“Hey,” he began, his voice a little uncertain. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened tonight. I-”

“Come in.” You said, opening your door wider and allowing him to enter.

“Thank you. I just wanted to apologise for crossing a line tonight.” You closed the door behind him. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t have any excuses. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise, I-”

“I crossed boundaries, I really-”

“I liked it!” The words spilled out of your mouth, revealing a depth of feeling you hadn’t intended to share just yet. Swiss’s surprise was evident, but his expression softened with understanding, and a hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips.

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours for sincerity. “I… I didn’t realize,” he began, his voice laced with a touch of vulnerability. “Where do we go from here, exactly?”

To hell with it, you thought. The damage had already been done, you might as well just rip off the bandaid and get it over with. “You could do it again.”

“N-now?”

“If you want…”

“No, I want… to.” He swallowed. The man in front of you was now so far from the Swiss you knew. His confidence was… somewhere in the room. But nowhere near him at the present. A tinge of excitement mixed with the nervousness in Swiss’s eyes as he contemplated the idea of doing it again. It was a leap into uncharted territory for both of you, a risky move that could either cement your connection or create an irreparable divide. Yet, the allure of it was too strong to resist. “Can I kiss you?”

Your voice came out breathier than usual - breathier than it ought to be. “Yes.”

Swiss finally closed the gap, his lips touching yours softly at first, not wanting to let loose too quickly and scare you away. He’d already crossed multiple boundaries today, he couldn’t bring himself to cross another. His hands came to your biceps, thumbs rubbing over the clothed skin in a comforting up and down motion. It wasn’t until you’d decided you were ready for something more that he finally let up.

Still in his uniform, you grasped onto his collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss and earning a little grunt in response from him. His left hand travelled upwards as your tongue gained access to his mouth, and eventually you felt his bare palm over your neck, thick fingers gently squeezing at the sides. You whimpered into his mouth, the sound so delicious on his tongue and reverberating in his ears, sending blood rushing south. That one sound did things to him he had never imagined. That one sound made him vow that you were going to cum around his cock tonight, with his hand wrapped around your throat.

He broke the kiss to torment you further, as if his actions on stage the last few days hadn’t been enough. As he spoke, his hand remained on your throat, and his voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you? I can feel your shakes of excitement. Those moans. The light in your eyes.”

“Please.” You said. As he squeezed at the sides, you could feel the restriction but not enough to cut of air supply entirely. Your head felt light and dreamy, eyes hooded with lust, hands grasping onto his forearms tightly to help you steady yourself. You begged, for what you couldn’t say. Maybe it was just force of habit; maybe it was your brain telling you to say it because he liked it; or maybe you wanted him to do unspeakable things to you while his fingers threatened to close your airways. A delirious smile painted on your face as though you were descending into madness the longer he touched you. His hand on your throat wasn’t enough for you. You imagined his other hand between your legs, dipped into your cunt. You wanted his fingers to violate you, roughly penetrate your walls and hit that spot hard over and over until you were screaming out for him.

Regardless, he approved, confirming this with a hum, voice so low it sounded like a tiger’s purr. “Please what? Use your words, tell me what you want.”

“Your hands.”

“My hands, hm? Doing what?”

“Touch me.”

He ghosted his lips over yours. “I am touching you.”

You took his free hand into yours and guided it to your waistband, dipping it below the fabric and hovering above your core, already wet and ready for him. “Here, too.”

“Greedy pup. No, baby. If I’m going to touch you, I’m going to do it properly.” He removed contact from you completely and took a step back. “Undress yourself.” You watched him remove the watch from his wrist, eyes fixated on his hands. “So desperate to have me touch you. Come on, baby. Don’t make me ask you again.”

You nodded dumbly, slowly removing items from your body until you stood bare in front of him. Swiss, in that time, had been removing his own clothes, except he was left only in his underwear. He placed one final kiss against your lips, feather-light and leaving you wanting, but still grateful for the attention. “On the bed, sweet baby. Spread your legs for me.” He instructed.

You followed his orders like a soldier to their commanding officer, eagerly hopping on the bed and exposing yourself to him. Where the confidence came from, you couldn’t say. In a normal situation, you’d be much more modest or tasteful with your movements, hesitant to expose yourself so readily. But there was something about Swiss’ commanding demeanor, his authoritative aura that had the hairs on your body stand on end, electrified in anticipation of what was to come. He had you wrapped around his little finger so quickly, it should have scared you. You weren’t one to easily submit. Yet you watched him climb over your body with hunger in your eyes, and mischief in his. You zealously sucked on his thick, middle fingers when he placed them in your mouth, and shivered when you felt them prod at your sopping entrance.

His digits met no resistance as they breached your walls, tapping the secret button inside that made your mouth fall open in complete pleasure. The squelch of your juices drowned out your little whimpers, and sped up as his tempo became more and more vigorous. Your body shook with the ferocity of his movements, and your fingers clutched onto the bedsheets to divert the energy from your mouth and cope with the overwhelming feeling boiling up inside you. You had to remind yourself of your location, that you were sharing a wall with a colleague and that you couldn’t be too loud; but Swiss simply tutted.

“Am I not making you feel good?”

You had to force air back into your lungs. “You are!”

“Then why can’t I hear you?”

“I-” You didn’t know what to say.

“Let me hear those slutty little moans, baby. Or I’ll stop.”

“No! Don’t stop, please don’t!”

“Then,” as he moved his fingers inside you, his other hand came to your throat, “be loud for me. And play with your clit.”

At the feeling of him restricting your esophagus again, combined with both of your hands working in tandem with each other, you had begun to reach heights you’d never been able to achieve with another person, even yourself. There were times when you were in the throes of touching yourself, when your own hand was desperately working yourself to orgasm, that you’d choke yourself in order to feel the ecstasy you were begging for. But it wasn’t quite the same - it never was. Yet now, your finger was frantically rubbing over yourself as your other hand moved from the bed sheets to clutch around his wrist as it gripped tightly to your neck, deliciously sending you back into that state of delirium.

Swiss knelt in between your legs, allowing your hips to buck wildly. His eyes were fixated on your face, cock hardening at the sight of you. Your eyes were rolling back into your skull, your mouth hanging open as if you were possessed. You were one tongue and a few tears away from a perfect ahegao, but there was still time. He’d make sure of it.

“Swiss!” You called out helplessly from below him, weak, vulnerable, half-crazy with the feelings he was making your body feel. He couldn’t deny just how delicious his name sounded coming from your swollen lips, oozing with need and desperation. Your mind was completely his; your body gifted to him willingly in your need to be choked and dominated. His name was the only thing you’d remember while he had you under his touch - under his fist. “G-gonna cum!”

“Yeah?” His voice was a little higher pitched, condescending. “Is my perfect girl gonna cum all over my fingers, hm?”

“Yes! Yes! Lucifer, yes!”

“No, no, no. Not on my watch, baby girl. Lucifer can’t make you feel this good. Who is?”

“You are!”

“Say my fucking name.”

“Swiss! Fuck! Cum-cumming!”

Vesuvius had nothing on your eruption. He paled in comparison to the earth-shattering explosion that set off inside you, and forced its way out without your knowledge. You poured yourself all over him, bathing him in your sacred water while your throat screamed bloody-murder beneath his hand. Fingernails dug into his skin as your body shook, cunt clenching tightly around him. Your vision, when you were able to think coherently again, was black in the corners from the intensity of your orgasm. As your orgasm subsided, Swiss’ hand pulled out of you and took over from yours, gently rubbing circles into your clit and making your body clench with little pockets of sensitive aftershocks. He wouldn’t stop until you told him to, and those words weren’t falling from your lips so he continued his ministrations, working you into over-sensitivity, gradually picking up the pace until his fingers were ferociously working you up towards a second orgasm; and you, the ever-willing recipient to his torture, accepted those gifts graciously, desperately calling his name as your mind went dumb from the pleasure.

Tears were falling from your eyes this time, and you clenched around nothing when you felt his broad tongue lick them from your face. All the while, his hand never left your throat.

His cock was girthy - average length but thick, and it met no resistance as it slid into you. His thigh hooked under your knee and lifted your leg further up the bed, allowing yourself to open up even more to him, and granting him the ability to bury himself all the way inside you, only stopping when there was nothing more to give. Every single one of your nerve-endings were standing on edge, holding matches to light the third fuse of the evening and preparing to hurt you in all the best ways. Swiss’ hand was on your throat, applying a similar amount of pressure as before while forcing your head in place to keep eye contact with him as he bottomed out. The drag of him against your walls, stretching you, filling you, was exquisite. His eyes, burning hotter than embers bore into your own, creating a depraved yet intimate moment as he geared up to fuck you into the mattress.

“Oh that’s fucking it, baby girl.” He moaned out in pleasure above you, savouring the tightness he’d buried himself inside. He removed the pressure from your neck to allow you some respite, but he kept it there to remind you of his intentions. “Fucking hell. If I’d known your cunt was this good I’d have taken you much sooner.” He began to thrust into you, resting most of his weight onto his other hand. His pubic mound rubbed against your clit, hairs tickling you and providing a small amount of stimulation. “This pussy was Hell-sent just for me, wasn’t it? Shit. So fucking perfect. You open up so well for me. So fucking wet for me, shit!”

He picked up speed. “Fucking ruining me. Why would I fuck another slut when I’ve got you, hm? So willing, and pliant,” he applied pressure again and watched your eyes light up, “and freaky. Oh shit!”

He was speechless for a while, focussing on the sound of your cunt swallowing him over and over again, squelching for him in appreciation of his hard work. He looked down to watch the cream of your pussy gathering around the base of his cock - well, all of it that wasn’t streaming down your folds and gathering on the sheets below you. So fucking tight and wet for him. He’d never been with anyone quite like you. The way your pussy opened up for him, the tears you were crying because of him, your screams of ecstasy. It was almost too much.

“Open up for me, baby girl.” He told you, and once you obliged, a string of his saliva dripped from his mouth into yours. He was laying claim to you wherever he could and groaned deeply when he felt you clench around him, becoming impossibly tighter. “Fucking hell - you loved that didn’t you? My beautiful, dirty whore. Touch yourself for me again.”

Your hand snaked down between your bodies to rub at your clit again, harshly and quickly stroking yourself in desperation of your third orgasm. You could tell that he wasn’t far off himself, erratic thrusts announcing how close he was. All the while, you were mewling beneath him - screaming for him. The drag of his cock against your walls, working alongside the tightness of his hand around your throat intermittently squeezing, was pulling you ever closer to the edge of euphoria. Just a little more and you’d fall - a little more and you’d be free.

“Swiss!” You shouted his name repeatedly, begging him over and over.

“I know, baby. I know. Keep going for me, that’s it. Fucking shit. I’m never gonna stop fucking this pussy. Where can I cum? Please tell me I can cum inside you.”

“Yes! I want it inside me. Give it to me, please!”

“Oh fuck! I couldn’t stop if you said no, baby. Can’t pull out. Too. Fucking. Good.” Each word was punctuated with a particularly hard thrust that sent your body up the bed a little. “You gonna cum, hm? Gonna cum on this goddamn dick?”

“Yes! Fuck, Swiss! You’re gonna make me cum!”

“Do it, baby. Cum for me.”

He tightened his grip one final time, keeping his pace while you kept yours. Your third orgasm was violent in all the best ways. Your vision was the first to go, eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they sat, digging your fingernails into his strong arm while rubbing your clit to completion with the other. Your back arched, your lungs refused to fill with air. Your voice was silent as your body convulsed in pure, unbridled pleasure while your mind swam with delirium from the subtle air restriction.

“There we go, baby girl. That’s it. Fuck - I’m g-gonna cum in this tight fucking cunt. Shit!”

Swiss came next, his seed pouring deep inside of you and painting your walls white. After your third orgasm, he selfishly chased his own, temporarily using you as a toy to tip himself over the edge and meet you in your euphoria.

Your hearts were racing from the adrenaline of the moment you’d just shared. Swiss could hear yours as he collapsed on your chest, his cock softening inside of you. You were both too tired to move, too sensitive to feel the cold. He wrapped your leg over his hip and rolled off you, hands and your leg pulling you with him. As soon as you both made eye contact again, his lips met yours in a desperate and needy kiss. This one, however, wasn’t intended to get you both riled up again ready for a second round, though, the longer your lips were attached and your hands roamed over his body, you could feel him chubbing up inside you. “You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” You whispered. “Thank you.”

Swiss chuckled. “I know, but it’s always nice to be reminded.” Another kiss, but this time your hand gripped onto his hair and pulled a little. “Don’t fucking do that or I’ll have to fuck you harder.”

You tugged again.

“___.” He warned.

You didn’t heed it and pulled one final time.

“Right,” he pulled out of you and flipped you on your stomach, “remember, you asked for this.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

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me-uglypretty · 6 months ago

Text

Three words and you know it

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Summary: Yelena and Kate fools Peter into a web of lies that eventually creates something more than a mischievous prank. [Loosely based on this incorrect quotes]

Warning: 18+ (G), fake relationships, comedy, pranks, fluff | Word count: 3.2k

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Oblivion was neither bad nor good, it was something that depended entirely on an individual’s circumstance. It was the knowing and not knowing. For an instance, there are certain time or situation in which, someone voluntarily walks into a shared space, a look of innocence on their face or that of oblivion, the utmost clarity in their words as they spoke with an unknown oath to gather attention that spew at confusion and awkward conversations. Though, it was to their unawareness.

It begun, a lovely morning for a warm breakfast, an extra sweet treat at the side, and two cups of tea. Natasha assured that breakfast duty was hers for today, and for you to sit comfortable on the kitchen chair. It forced a sort of routine, you would cook for her and she would cook for you, and Natasha profusely placing an extra pancake on your plate. Such arguments of being too full from your side was ignored.

You knew—Natasha knew. The extend of what you could eat, what you hated to eat, and everything that wouldn’t suffice your hunger. Especially for her special breakfast pancake that you truly enjoy, and have in numerous occasions requested for the same food later in the evening. It was your thing with her, and her thing with you.

Natasha knew that at every dreadful mission, the vile smell of gun powder, blood that sticks uncomfortable on your skin that was a mix of yours and the body that fell dead, and the anguish within which you hid with a joke—it was this little routine that curls a genuine smile on your face.

There, a smile etched on your face as you take anguish bites of your breakfast, and the equally contented smile on Natasha’s face as she unashamedly stares at you. A twinkle of some sort in your eyes and hers. The childlike expression which erupts at the most trivial situation or when enjoying the little things in life more than others, but more with each other.

You both were alike in that way, just not in the exact way that would make obvious of another correlation between two former assassins.

It was then, a wisp of white threadlike webs whizzed through the kitchen, an inch away from knocking your plate and a perfect hit to the cabinet behind you. At the exact moment that you swore, Natasha swiftly extracted a knife from beneath the counter, and a sound of cheer erupts with the appearance of Peter Parker.

Occasion alike this is when confusion arrives, playing a tune that led to strokes of awkwardness by the words of Peter, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Mrs Romanoff! I’m still trying to understand this, look it’s so cool, but it's so confusing and this update just made it more confusing…”

The show of a silver bracelet wrapped around his wrist had earned a whistle from Natasha, complimenting him on the new look and discreetly hiding the knife she was holding. He seemed unfazed as he continued talking. The young boy’s likely visit often result in many broken objects, and yet, Tony insists on presenting him with new devices.

“How’s uni?” you enquired, after ensuring that you wouldn’t be hit by another string of web.

Natasha who was sat opposite you, watched amusedly as you navigated your plate correspondingly to where Peter moved in the kitchen. Your attentive gaze on the young boy dithers when you meet the eyes of Natasha, the wiggle of her eyebrows seems to almost take your attention away, if wasn’t for the rumbles of the additional person in the kitchen.

“…I told him that we shouldn’t do it, but it happened anyway,” Peter had gone on, words upon words that was ignored by reason of the woman sat opposite you. “Opps, sorry again, Mrs Romanoff,” he mumbled, hands fixated on the string of web almost hitting straight on Natasha’s forehead as the other end was stuck to his bracelet.

Several taps on the countertop redirects his attention towards the sound. Natasha gave him a pointed look. “Peter…” her voice sounded stern, nearing that of annoyance, before a playful smile emerges on her face, and she waited for the realisation to settle at her attempt of a joke.

The intention was to gather rounds of laughter from the young boy, perhaps, for you to announced again that she was horrible at joking as it always seemed more scary than funny. Despite that, you would laugh, shaking your head as you always did, hand waving away any attempt of explanation for her ways of words in the tone of comedy.

Peter sensed it, she thought. There was a look of confusion on his face as he glanced between two, your shake of head and the grin on her face. His eyes widened, “Sorry, Natasha. No more last names,” he spoke, hands raised in surrender which drew soft chuckles from the spy.

Natasha doesn’t flatter, opting to wink at him then glancing at you. “Do you want anything else?” she murmured the question, voice soften so drastically, and only for you to hear.

You smiled, feeling the warmth that roused at your skin as her eyes remained stuck on you. “Not really, but maybe for lunch…”

It’s easy, the exchanges of words or when eyes met and spoke more than what anyone else could interpret between two. Perhaps, the familiarities of your past had easily engulf this understanding. The learning of life that wasn’t controlled severely, breathing in air that both warmth your chest and made your huff at the scent that carried through the room, after she had sprayed her favourite perfume.

It wasn’t your favourite scent, but you had made it a habit to expect that she always wore the same perfume. Natasha sprayed your jacket with her perfume once, and somehow, she understood that you detested the scent—unless it was on her.

It’s so easy to overlook the other person who stood there, mouth producing noises that seemed like nothing if it wasn’t her voice that spoke or yours that she kept close.

“Goodbye Natasha, and Mrs Romanoff!” Peter waved his right hand while his left grasped onto his sandwich, and he speedily left the kitchen.

It was that, the noise that enticed your attention to the sound. The clatter of silverware followed by grumbles of curses slipping out your mouth, and hands grasping onto the countertop when your knee bumped against the counter. Natasha’s head had promptly turned towards you after staring at the door where Peter’s exited. The first thing she observed was the sheer look of panic on your face, and round eyes widened as you chaotically tried picking up the fallen fork.

Natasha caught onto something there. Her sense of awareness has always been remarkable. Missions completed in perfection due to her foresee of situations and ensuring her head was clear to achieve the best outcome. Thus, your undoubted appearance had proved her theory of something else than simple exchanged of greetings. Before this abrupt occurrence, Natasha was sure that Peter was greeting her as two different persons, and throughout those exchanges, you were always by her side. Bodies almost pressed together by the proximity.

Unless—and her attention shifts, round eyes marvelling at the clear nervousness on your apperance, mouth parted as though you were ready to justify yourself, but only offered her empty blows of air. Natasha raised a single eyebrow, easily grasping your attempts of changing the conversation.

“Was Peter calling you…Mrs Romanoff?”

The question was asked with a firm tone, and it agitated your hands to reach for a tissue or anything closer. A needed distraction from how you could easily utter every little secret by the sound of her voice, the look on her face, and those eyes, so green and gleaming even beneath the gloomy light.

When your eyes redirected from your almost empty plate to meet her eyes, you had perceived the look of contemplation on her face. It felt that she was genuinely engrossed in the idea. In a split second where your attempt mask of indifference slips, and you were sure that she knew.

Natasha sighed. “Why did Peter call you that…” her voice softened profusely. “I’m not going to harm you…or throw a knife at you so tell me please?”

The question itself flashed a memory in your mind. A knife that was thrown across the room, slashing a wound on the side of your arm, and if you hadn’t spent that time gawking at the known assassin, you wouldn’t had walked out with a wound to remind you of the moment you met Natasha Romanoff.

She was the enemy first, then she became your closest friend. That endearment kind of feeling, a word that tasted both sweet and bitter at your heart’s desire. At times, you wondered if staying as enemies would be enough. But you stare into her eyes at that moment, a smile that materialises on her face with a look to encourage your confession and the warmth that spread in your chest caused by her.

You would never know, perhaps, you thrive in the prospect of having a close something with her than nothing at all.

In your spiralling state, Natasha’s body remained rigid as she sat there, and waited for an appropriate reason for that mistake. There was a voice in her head that pushed forward the thought she had dejectedly hid away. It was the sound of hope that would persuade for something good than bad. If by her desired outcome, she wouldn’t continue to harbour the truth of her profound feelings that flourish at the mention of your name and more when your eyes met hers, the most delicate sort of gleam that made her body contentedly warm.

A confession may not meet the ears of others, but her mind whirls at the intended notion of being together forever. A significant other. If those words manifested itself into reality, slipping from the tongues of others like a casual banter, it made her heart swell at the idea of marriage. Natasha’s felt sure at the prospect of life spend with you.

Would it be so bad if she was so selfish to want that more than anything else?

Natasha’s round eyes widened, mouth parted slightly, and a little sound of a gasp at the realisation that dawned upon her.

It was assumed as harmless crush alike one she had on Bruce. It was a meant to pass through stages of complete fixation of a relationship she wouldn’t dare ruin to something that wasn’t important. It didn’t went pass that. In fact, she tried pretending that it was a just a friendship. A forged platonic relationship that was so pure and intimate, and now, she was seeing you as someone more than a crush she was forced to disregard.

“Honestly,” you suddenly spoke, and her attention flatters from the whirling thought, returning entirely to you. “I thought it was a mistake at first…little boys, right? But I don’t think he knows,” you finished with a shrug, appearing unbothered by the confession.

It was your reaction that struck her heart wrongly at first. Her expression seemed to flatter by seconds, the soften look to one of confusion to utter hurt. The hint of bore in your tone had easily disregard the nervousness that lingered before. She was almost sure that you were worried for an entirely different reason. One that she shared too.

The worst outcome clashed in her mind than the ones that coloured so vividly of her hope. Her hands fisted at the thought that was ready to confess her entire heart to you, and every vulnerability that she hasn’t yet shared.

Then, she heard the start of rhythmically taps. It was your nails tapping against the kitchen counter. Her shrewd eyes focused on your appearance, attentive gaze trailing a path to where your hands clenched and unclenched, followed by the look on your face. Natasha noticed the corners of your lips twitch, intending to smile or frown, then forcing a look of indifference that appeared more suspicious. It was clearly an act of masking your anxious state from her.

Something clicked in Natasha’s mind. A knowing hum resonated through her throat, her body leaned back nonchalantly and pressed against the chair. The drastic change in the atmosphere had caught onto you.

You didn’t think more of it than her knowing the truth. Natasha must had found out that you haven’t done anything to rebuke the misinformation. However, you start to notice the little act of a smirk on her face, and a subtle look of arrogance on her face. It was that reaction which straighten your posture.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you spoke out of distress. “I mean— it’s not— I’m okay with it! Mistakes happen and it’s no one’s fault…” you trailed, and entirely stopped your splatter of words.

Natasha stared intently at you, daring more words to spill that doesn’t justify yourself at all. It’s that look, the kind used during interrogations, and something you had watched from a safe distance. Natasha’s famous look that expressed, ‘I know the truth,’ and the look that made the other person tremble.

Silence transmitted first.

You contemplated the chances of escaping from having this dreaded conversation, and grimacing at your mind replaying your previous choice of words. A conclusion roused that she must had known, Natasha was definitely—to your absolute confidence—making a joke at your flustered state because she knew the embarrassing misunderstanding that Peter had produced at your expense.

“Wait, before you think that…”

Natasha decided to stop your second sequence of rambling. “I’m not opposed to it,” she spoke, a tone of certainty in her voice as she gauged your reaction.

Natasha observed the seconds where you reacted by your eyes widening almost comically then gaze falling entirely on your plate, mouth parted like you were talking to your breakfast, and you stayed there for a moment too long.

Slowly, a shy smile emerged on your face and when you shifted your gaze to meet her eyes, Natasha was beaming at you with a smile that appeared wider and happier than any kind you had ever saw.

You could only utter a word or more so, a sound. “Oh?”

Natasha nodded her head. “Oh,” she jested, switching her position to lean her elbows on the counter and resting her head on her palm of her hands. Her teeth nimble on her bottom lip, and your eyes blatantly stayed on that sight.

“So…” Natasha started, redirecting your attention away from her lips to meet her glistening eyes. “From my understanding, you like the idea of being my wife?” she teased, and slowly leaned her body forward.

It felt like a similar tactic she used on criminals, but there was a difference ambiance to the way she looked at you. A honied smile, eyes glazed of such tenderness, and you wondered for a second there on what it would feel to have that same look stayed on you forever. Natasha that developed a genuine relationship with you that was far more special and different than the kind shared with Clint. The thought itself distracted you from the actual matter in hand, and warmth that roused from your neck to your face.

You think of that. The first time you met Natasha, the first time you exchanged greetings as partners, the first time you shared a meal together, the first you swore that your feelings were something would progress into nothing, the first time you realised it was more than building an honest attraction to someone from a silly misinformation, the first time you sat and imagined the notion of being Natasha’s wife, the first time you almost confessed your feelings at her sister’s pestering and it dawned on how serious—

You gasped.

Natasha impulsively jumped backward, grasping the knife she had kept hidden again.

The expression on your face had morphed into something that worried Natasha, it wasn’t a shy look of someone sharing similar feeling to her.

You cursed under your breath.

“What?” Natasha questioned, her attention heightens on you and your surroundings. “What’s wrong?” she tried again, her hand clasping over yours.

It seemed to had break your distraction as round eyes fell on her hand at the tender touch. Natasha observed the way your eyes lingered before interlacing your fingers with hers. Where your forefinger seemed to hover over that one finger.

You looked ahead, gazing into her eyes—alike the moment you first met, the occurrence of such mundane thing, and the constant moments where hearts thumps keenly—and you didn’t look away. Natasha swore to herself at that vital moment, nothing could split the connection between you and her, even if she had to leave with a bleeding heart at the expense of your tenderness towards her.

“What is it?” she asked. It was almost followed by, ‘Do you need me to kill someone?’

You shook your head. “Three words,” you spoke softly, and she looked confused at first. “And you know it,” you continued, softly squeezing her hand.

Natasha doesn’t comprehend your implication. It was unlikely that Peter had misaddressed you as hers on purpose. The absolute innocence and sincerity in his words was supporting his case. She reflected on your words, feeling the thought rush through when your finger traced the minimalistic tattoo on the inside of her wrist.

It clicked. Your pointed look and noted pointers then the look of annoyance that materialised on her face.

“Yelena and Kate.”

You nodded your head. “Yelena and Kate.”

A silent understanding breached between two after the revelation. Of course, it was the mischief duos that landed you in this predicament.

Natasha instantly dived into planning her course of action to scare them into admitting their antics and possibly fear them enough to attempt this prank again. Internally, she was fuming at the idea that someone else could had been paired with you. That her younger sister—once innocent and wouldn’t dare be disobedient—could had your intertwined with another name that wasn’t hers. It wasn’t real, she knew that. But she couldn’t stop the way her heart hammered that you could had possibly felt something for someone else because of one prank.

It lured her to look at you than stared absently at the wall behind you. As her eyes gazed into yours, round globes seemingly gleaming beneath the awful pale kitchen light, the feeling of annoyance seemed to vanish into something warm and soft.

Natasha wasn’t eager to confront her sister, but she was eager to continue where you had left off, where it was clear that you shared her feelings for this specific future too. That was it, wasn’t it?

You appeared to understand her thoughts. “So...” you murmured, and she repeated the same word with a childlike smile on her face. “You’re not opposed to us…hanging out…as wives?”

Laughter echoes in the kitchen at your question. Natasha couldn’t stop the endearing look on her face as you added another joke at her obvious desirability for you. A prank had brought light to your shared feelings on the topic, and it wasn’t nothing alike a passing crush for someone.

Unfortunately for Yelena and Kate, the supposedly best prank might had turned into the worst assisted links of an even more compatible duos by the name of you and Natasha.

#Remember they’re married!#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #yelena belova x reader #kate bishop x reader

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