#How long do you think he was considering that that relief over his regained life would be short lived?

[wildestheart4ever]

Got to thinking about the aftermath of the day of Danny’s accident.

Do you think at the end of the day, when there are no excited parents eagerly yammering about their life’s work finally functioning or at other thing that kept him distracted from his thoughts of what happened

That he just sat in the quiet of his room terrified?

Kid just died, kinda, and those first few minutes of relief when he turned human again must have been staggering.

Like, waking up to find yourself lacking a heartbeat, looking completely different and staring at the mirror just to find something completely other?

Do you think he was just sitting on his bed at the end of the day, gripping his chest just to make sure that he still has a heartbeat terrified of the thought of it stopping?

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : established relationship, threat, confrontation, hurt / comfort wc : 1.2k

you had always known that your ex was trouble, but you never expected him to show up at your doorstep after all this time. it had been months since you’d broken things off, and you were finally starting to feel like yourself again, finding peace in your life. but all of that was shattered the moment you opened your door and found him standing there, his familiar smirk making your stomach churn.

“miss me?” he drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe as if he had every right to be there.

you stiffened, your hand tightening around the edge of the door. “what do you want?”

he shrugged, as if the answer should be obvious. “i’ve been thinking about you. figured i’d drop by, see how you’ve been.”

the audacity of his words made your blood boil. after everything he’d put you through - the lies, the manipulation, the constant mind games - he had the nerve to act like you were just another one of his conquests he could revisit whenever he felt like it.

“i’m not interested,” you said firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. “you need to leave.”

his smirk widened, as if your resistance only amused him. “come on baby, don’t be like that. we had some good times, didn’t we? no need to throw it all away.”

you felt a wave of panic rising in your chest. he was the same as ever, using that smooth, persuasive tone to try and worm his way back into your life. but you weren’t the same person you were when you’d been with him. you were stronger now, more sure of what you wanted - and more certain that he wasn’t it.

“i said leave,” you repeated, but he only took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as his expression turned from playful to dangerous.

“don’t act like you don’t want this,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “i know you. you’ll come around, just like always.”

before you could respond, a shadow fell over the doorway, and your heart skipped a beat. you hadn’t even heard logan approach, but suddenly, he was there, stepping up behind you with a presence that seemed to fill the entire space.

“you heard her,” logan said, his voice low and deadly. “she’s not interested. now get lost.”

your ex’s bravado faltered for a split second as he looked up at logan, clearly not expecting anyone else to be there. he took in logan’s tall, muscular frame, the sharp glint in his eyes, and the way he carried himself with a confidence that screamed don’t mess with me.

“and who the hell are you?” your ex sneered, trying to regain his composure.

logan didn’t so much as flinch. “someone who’s not gonna ask again. walk away now, before i make you.”

the threat in logan’s voice was unmistakable, and you could see the hesitation in your ex’s eyes. he wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone like logan, who looked like he could break him in half without even trying.

“this is between me and her,” your ex said, though his voice lacked the earlier confidence. “it’s none of your business.”

logan took a step forward, his stance aggressive, and you felt a surge of relief and gratitude wash over you. “it became my business the second you showed up uninvited. so, i’ll say it one more time - leave. now.”

there was a long, tense moment where it seemed like your ex was considering whether or not to push his luck. but whatever he saw in logan’s eyes must have convinced him that it wasn’t worth it. he scoffed, taking a step back.

“fine,” he spat, his bravado crumbling as he realised he was outmatched. “but don’t think this is over.”

“it is,” logan said coldly. “you show up here again, you’ll regret it.”

your ex shot you one last look, a twisted mix of anger and disdain, before turning on his heel and stalking off down the street. you watched him go, your heart still racing, but as the distance between you grew, so did your sense of relief.

once he was out of sight, you let out a shaky breath, your whole body trembling with the adrenaline of the encounter. logan, still standing protectively by your side, turned to you, his expression softening.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle, so different from the cold, threatening tone he’d used with your ex.

you nodded, but the emotions of the moment were overwhelming, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself leaning into logan, seeking the comfort of his solid presence. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and the warmth and strength of his embrace was exactly what you needed.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “i don’t know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

logan pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “you don’t have to worry about him anymore,” he said firmly. “i won’t let him hurt you.”

you pulled back slightly to look up at him, your eyes filled with gratitude. “you didn’t have to do that, you know.”

logan’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “of course i did. i care about you, and ‘m not gonna let anyone treat you like that.”

your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your chest ache with affection. logan had always been protective, always looking out for you in his own gruff way, but this was different. this was him showing just how much he cared, how much he was willing to do to keep you safe.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you murmured, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor yourself to him.

logan smiled, a rare, soft smile that he seemed to reserve just for you. “you don’t have to do anything. ‘m here because i want to be.”

he leaned down and kissed you, a slow, lingering kiss that felt like a promise - a promise that he’d always be there for you, no matter what. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your cheek.

“you’re safe with me,” he whispered, and you knew, without a doubt, that he meant it.

and as you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you realised that with logan by your side, you didn’t have to be afraid of anything - or anyone - ever again.

[nina-ya]

For the prompts, fluff 40 with Law?

A/N: gosh okay so that prompt is "Why are you scared of loving?" and I had to like rack my brain to figure out how to make this fluff and you can probably see that struggle :') Thank you for requesting!!! The prompts came from here! Pairing: Law x Reader CW: None WC: 713 "I love you." The worst three words that you could have ever uttered. Not because he didn't reciprocate those feelings, but because he did. His carefully crafted life was now threatened by the vulnerability of emotions. Your three simple words had the power to dismantle the walls he spent years constructing.

In an attempt to regain control, Law distanced himself. Days and weeks passed until it all became a blur. His gaze averted whenever you crossed his paths and he immersed himself in the routine of pirate life, focusing on battles, strategies, and anything that could serve as a temporary distraction to forget your confession- to forget you. 

What he failed to consider was your response to his self-imposed isolation. Outwardly, you seemed fine. You faced his silence without as much as a frown. Yet, the truth was far from the façade you projected. Each day of his silence cut deeper, a relentless assault on your emotions. Behind the composed exterior lay fury, embarrassment, hurt, every negative emotion in the book. The struggle to get out of bed each day and witness the one you loved distancing himself proved to be a torturous ordeal.

Three agonizing weeks had passed since the day you bared your soul, confessing your love to Law. The silence became intolerable, and you reached a breaking point. Determination fueled your steps as you marched toward his room, a torrent of pent-up emotions ready to be unleashed. In a burst of frustration, you swung the door open, and you wasted no time in releasing those emotions.

"I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but you need to get over yourself," you exclaimed, your voice cutting through the silence. "What is actually wrong with you? What makes you think it’s acceptable to act the way you are? It’s fucking childish. Just reject me like a normal person so I can move on with my life."

To your surprise, your rant didn’t elicit any pushback or he didn’t ‘shambles’ away to avoid this conversation. Instead, an unusual stillness enveloped the room as he sat there, absorbing every word you hurled in his direction.

The tension in the room was palpable as you waited for a response that was slow to come. Eventually, he broke the silence. "I… I can’t just reject you."

You took a breath, ready to go off on him again, but he interrupted your impending outburst. "I want to accept your feelings. Trust me, I do. I just… I can’t," he confessed. A pause followed as he ran through his hair and sighed deeply before continuing. "I’m scared," he finally admitted.

You can feel the fear and vulnerability that were brought on by that admission. "Scared of what?" you carefully prodded, your tone softening. His usually guarded eyes met yours in a moment of raw honesty. "Why are you scared of loving?" you pressed further. 

Law's gaze softened with the weight of memories as he began to explain. "I've seen love crumble into ashes," he starts, pain evident in his voice despite his best efforts to hide it. "Anyone who I have ever loved has been torn away from me. Love, to me, has become synonymous with loss, and I can’t do that anymore. I can’t let you fall into the same fate all because I chose to love you."

You felt the weight of his words deeply. Law is more fragile than you or anyone could have thought. You step forward, gently reaching a hand out to grab his. “I may not understand what you’ve been through, but I can see how much this hurts you,” you start. You gently rubbed your thumb over his knuckles as you continued, “and I can wait. I can wait for you to be ready to love again, no matter how long it takes.”

Your reassurance greatly comforted him. He sighed in relief that you took his admission well. He grasped your own hand and squeezed it tightly as he offered a small smile to you. Though he may never say it, he is extremely grateful that you reacted this way. A promise formed between the two of you. A promise that one day you two will be able to fully embrace the love you two share for each other.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 9 - B.Barnes

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , Chp 8 , Chp 9 , -Chp 10 , Chp 11 , Chp 12.

Bucky, noticing the strained atmosphere between Kate and Y/N, decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Hey, Y/N," Bucky interjected, his voice laced with a hint of urgency, "could you teach me how to clean Alpine's hooves?"

Y/N paused, her expression softening as she recognized Bucky's attempt to diffuse the tension. "Of course," she replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

With a sense of relief washing over him, Bucky led the way to the stables, eager to learn from Y/N and escape the brewing conflict with Kate.

Meanwhile, Kate seethed with frustration, her hostility towards Y/N palpable. Clenching her fists, she struggled to contain her anger as she watched Bucky and Y/N walk away, leaving her behind.

"Shit!" she muttered under her breath, her perfectly manicured nails leaving indentations on her palms as she pressed them tightly together.

Turning to her assistant, Kate issued a terse command. "I want you to gather information on someone."

Kate couldn't fathom how Bucky could abandon her for a mere farm girl when there were plenty of wealthy suitors vying for her attention. The thought fueled her irritation, exacerbating her already sour mood.

With a frustrated huff, Kate stomped her expensive shoes on the ground, unwittingly stepping into a patch of mud. The dirt splattered across her face, staining her clothes and ruining her pristine footwear.

"Fuck!" she exclaimed, her outburst startling the nearby animals, who responded with their own cacophony of sounds.

As the chickens clucked "Buk-buk-ba-gawk!!!" and the cows mooed, "Moooo…!" Kate felt a surge of indignation. She despised the rural setting and everything it represented, longing for the comfort and luxury of her city life.

Determined to uncover any secrets Y/N might be hiding, Kate hoped that the information her assistant obtained would give her the leverage she needed to regain control of the situation.

***********

At the stable, Bucky observed closely as Y/N expertly cleaned Alpine's hooves. Her movements were precise and confident, a testament to her familiarity with the task.

She explained, her voice calm and knowledgeable, “Regular cleaning is also the only way to remove impacted dirt, mud, and manure from the hoof. When you give your horse a bath, take the time to carefully clean out their hooves to prevent horse scratches and infections.”

Bucky nodded attentively, absorbing her instructions. “I see. I'll try my best to take care of Alpine.”

Y/N smiled approvingly. “Good. You're getting better at living on this farm.”

Bucky felt a flush of shyness at her compliment. He hadn't expected Y/N to praise him. “Hehe, but I'm nothing compared to you.”

As she brushed Alpine's coat, Y/N chuckled softly. “Well, I'm already used to this. If you asked me to drive a sports car or make a vlog, I wouldn't have a clue.”

Bucky's curiosity piqued. “You've never driven a sports car?”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Not everyone is as rich as you.”

Realizing his unintentional insensitivity, Bucky hurriedly apologized. “Uhh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way.”

Then, an idea struck him. “Do you want me to teach you?”

Bucky said, "You have taught me how to drive a truck. It's more difficult than driving my Ferrari. I think you can do it."

Y/N paused, considering his offer. Bucky couldn't see her expression from his angle. “Hmm, I'll pass, but thanks for the offer.”

Disappointed but understanding, Bucky nodded. He had hoped to share the thrill of driving a sports car with Y/N, to give her a glimpse of his world, and understand his passion for racing.

Suddenly, Toby burst into the stable, his usually cheerful face now drawn with worry. “Y/N, Bucky, I need to go home!”

Concern etched across his features, Bucky approached. "What's wrong?"

“My grandmother,” Toby gasped, his voice trembling. “She's having a hard time breathing.”

Y/N wasted no time. “Get in my car, and I'll call the doctor on the way.”

Bucky, feeling a surge of determination, stepped forward. “I want to help.”

Y/N hesitated, considering Bucky's offer. “It won't fit since we're going to pick up both his grandparents.”

But Bucky wasn't deterred. “I'll use my car. It's faster. I'll meet you at Toby's house and then drive his grandma to the hospital.”

Y/N nodded, seeing the logic in Bucky's plan. “Alright.”

With determination in his eyes, Bucky hurried to his red Ferrari and fired up the engine.

"VROOM!"

The roar of the Ferrari's powerful motor sent a thrill through him. “Let's help someone,” he declared, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

As they drove towards Toby's house, Bucky followed Y/N's truck, his mind racing with thoughts. He couldn't help but marvel at Toby's resilience, realizing that the young boy had been walking to and from the farm every day.

Bucky remembered Toby, who never seemed tired each time he came by.

He felt like all his life he had the privilege to own a car and have a private driver to drive him around.

Arriving at Toby's house, Bucky took in the scene before him—the abundance of bee boxes and honey jars, a testament to the family's livelihood. Yet, despite their hard work, they lacked the resources and transportation in times of emergency.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Bucky reflected on his life of luxury, provided by his father's wealth.

Entering the house, Bucky saw Toby's grandparents. The love between them was palpable, even in their moment of distress. Toby's grandmother struggled to breathe, her frail form supported by her husband.

Bucky sprang into action with urgency, lifting Toby's grandmother gently into his arms.

Toby's grandfather regarded Bucky with curiosity who carried his wife into the small car. “Who is this young man?”

Toby assured him, “He's my great friend. Trust him, grandpa.”

As they hurried Toby's grandmother into Bucky's car, Toby's grandfather's eyes reflected both worry and gratitude, hoping for the best for his beloved wife.

With minimal traffic on the road, Bucky navigated the streets swiftly, arriving at the hospital in just 10 minutes. Carrying Toby's grandmother into the emergency room, he conveyed the urgency of her condition to the attending doctor. "She's having a hard time breathing. It's been 20 minutes."

The medical team, already briefed by Y/N, sprang into action, swiftly preparing a bed for the elderly woman. "Quick, put her here," they instructed, their sense of urgency matching Bucky's own.

As he received updates upon his arrival, Bucky prayed for Toby's grandmother's swift recovery. The weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, a newfound sense of responsibility driving him to do everything in his power to help.

Ten minutes later, Y/N, Toby, and his grandfather arrived at the hospital, their anxious expressions mirroring Bucky's own concern. "Where is she?" Toby's grandfather inquired, his voice trembling with worry.

Bucky relayed the nurse's assurance. "The doctor is still looking after her, but the nurse told him her breathing problem has already improved."

Relief washed over the group, evident in their collective sighs. Toby's grandfather extended his hand to Bucky in gratitude. "Thank you, young man. Thank you so much."

Though unused to such displays of appreciation, Bucky accepted the gesture with a sense of humility, his heart warmed by the genuine gratitude.

Not just him, but Y/N felt it too. Watching Bucky's efforts to help Toby and his grandparents, Y/N's perception of him changed. He wasn't the spoiled person she had initially thought him to be.

*************

As they waited at the hospital, Bucky's thoughts drifted to his father. Reflecting on their strained relationship, he wondered when they had last spent quality time together. The sight of his father's graying hair flashed in his mind, prompting concerns about his health. Had his father undergone regular check-ups?

His musings were interrupted by Toby's grandfather's somber conversation with a doctor. "We couldn't afford the surgery," he overheard, the weight of the words settling heavily on Bucky's heart.

Caught in a moment of helplessness, Toby echoed his grandfather's sentiments. If only his father hadn't succumbed to gambling, they would have had the means to afford the necessary medical treatment for his grandmother.

Feeling helpless, Bucky watched as Toby and his family grappled with the harsh reality of their financial limitations. Meanwhile, Y/N, ever resourceful, discussed options to assist Toby's grandmother with the hospital administration.

In the midst of the chaotic scene at the hospital, Bucky felt overwhelmed by the raw emotions surrounding him. The sight of an 80-year-old man in tears and the anguished voice of another man grappling with his inability to provide for his loved one brought a lump to Bucky's throat, threatening to unleash his own flood of tears.

In stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor, Bucky clenched his fists in frustration, his heart aching with the weight of helplessness. In a world where a simple swipe of his card could solve most problems, he now found himself powerless in the face of someone else's suffering.

Determined to make a difference, Bucky stepped outside the hospital, his resolve firm as he dialed his father's number.

“Hello,” came his father's curt greeting.

“Dad. I need your help,” Bucky began, his voice tinged with urgency.

His father's response was laced with skepticism. “What did you do this time?”

Bucky's frustration mounted as he struggled to convey the gravity of the situation. “Huh? No, Dad, this isn't about me. I want to help someone.”

But his father's skepticism persisted. “Really? It's not the same as when you ask for a private jet to pick up your friends for a party?”

Bucky winced at the reminder of his past selfishness, feeling ashamed. “No, Dad, this is different. This is about someone's life. A farmer I know is facing a medical issue and can't afford surgery. I want to help them, but I don't have the money. Dad, can you help me?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, stretching agonizingly as Bucky waited for his father's response.

“...”

“Hello? Dad?” Bucky prompted anxiously, his heart pounding in his chest.

“How much for the surgery?” his father's voice finally broke through the silence.

Relief flooded through Bucky, gratitude welling up within him. “Thank you, Dad. You're the best. Oh, can I ask one more thing?” he added, seizing the opportunity to make another request, his mind already racing with possibilities.

As he awaited his father's response, Bucky couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, knowing that with his father's support, he could truly make a difference in someone's life.

Inside the office, with expansive windows offering sweeping views of the city skyline, sat a man of distinguished presence. David Barnes, at 50 years old, possessed an aura of approachability coupled with an unmistakable air of authority.

David was renowned in the business world for his astute decisions and remarkable success. With a seemingly effortless knack for turning ventures into triumphs, he had earned the moniker of having a Midas touch.

Yet, despite his prowess in the realm of business, David found himself somewhat adrift when it came to matters concerning his son, Bucky. His only child, Bucky's recent actions had stirred something within David, a sense of curiosity and perhaps even pride.

As he listened to Bucky's earnest plea for assistance, David felt a stirring within him. It was a rare glimpse of the young man his son had become, a departure from the carefree persona that had once defined him.

With a decisive nod, David motioned to his secretary. “Send $20,000 to this hospital,” he instructed, his voice tinged with a quiet resolve.

The secretary, ever efficient, sought clarification. “Did Bucky get hurt?” she inquired, her concern evident in her tone.

David shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gazed at the sunset, casting its golden hues across the city cape. “No,” he replied simply, “he's helping someone.”

At that moment, as he watched the sun dip below the horizon, David felt a swell of pride for his son, realizing that there was more to success than just business acumen—that true wealth lay in the ability to lend a helping hand to those in need.

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[iconoclast-infidels]

@nyantry

Dmitry was right to wait to touch. For as much Nico wanted to reach out himself he was feeling too cautious that this was some trick like he was being punked and it would all fall apart right after getting his hopes up. That's why he was scared this was too easy even as he kept inching closer.

Misery without him is unbearable.

That was poetry... whispered right in his ear. He closed his eyes and smiled while he lingered on the thought a little longer. It was a dreamy image for a mind like Nico's. It was the only sort of vision that could have brought him any peace at a time like this.

He needed to be needed.

With his eyes closed he kept listening to the other and Dmitry did not disappoint. He didn't care that Dmitry didn't trust Murmur. Neither did Nico. What he heard was Dmitry trusted him. The involuntary smile kept spreading. He started to notice that he was and became self conscious and opened his eyes as his front teeth came over his bottom lip. He nodded in understanding. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. I'll help you along. I show you. You show me. We can stick together. It's how I always pictured life in all honesty."

Things kept falling into place.

He had to go for the deeper dive. He was too scared to feel this happy. So, he asked the main questions that he thought could truly destroy the peace of mind he was regaining.

Talk about nail biting anxiety to hear the answer. His face stayed so emotionless while he listened, his body so still.

First, it was the simple relief of knowing Dmitry hadn't been with anyone. The passionate way he explained why he couldn't added to fill in some of the hollow space that had been feeling so depleted and in such agony while parted.

However, he went on to how he didn't even want to see his face and that hurt considering there was never a time during their separation Nico had felt that way. There was only longing. He could only remember once he ever felt anger so red he was ever consumed to such extent. That was when Dmity dared want Leila at their wedding space when he put her in his grave without even talking things through with him first. Nico had never been hurt like that day.

Then Nico suddenly popped out of his stillness and eyerolled the excuse comment about the ring in Russia. That was so Dmitry playing the human game by human rules attempting to fit into human standards. Stupid Russia. Stupid human governments. Stupid arrogance of humans thinking enforcing their will on others is good in any scenario. The concept just started to annoy his brain even though it wasn't the main topic. Nico's mind had a tendency to stray.

What brought Nico's attention back to front and center was Dmitry admitting he wanted him to come after him.

He gave that a think. He spoke in a soft, slow, monotone, very matter of fact tone as he went. "Yeah okay. So, you were too prideful to come back home after you realized you failed me then decided to torture me longer by turning it into a mind reading test where I was supposed to know your leaving where you initially didn't want to see my face one day changed to actually come chase me even though I'm not a mind reader, and I was supposed to magically know when that day was, because I'm magic Nico that just knows everything, and couldn't possibly take your actions for face value, meaning you left becaue you wanted to be gone. I couldn't possibly have been sitting around all that time trying to respect your boundaries like a good person instead of invading them because I thought you like good people and not fucking demons anymore and only a bad person aka demon boy would invade your space when you clearly left because you wanted to be gone.... except you didn't.

You wanted me to be me... and do my invadey shenaniheist and say look at me fucker. I love you. But I didn't. And now four years are gone." He paused, gave his head a scratch, his chin a rub, then a good nod. "Yeah, actually, that makes sense to me. I mean it's wack. You suck. I suck. But heyyyyyyy. Those are exactly the kind of things that always happen in my life. Shit luck. Yeah, actually, I'm completely good with this explanation. Only things this shitty can happen to me. It makes total sense to me."

Then he sat there on his knees appearing really bummed out and really pissed off at whoever got to share an apartment with Dmitry all this time. Like really? He wasn't even alone all this time like him? Well, besides the ghosts, but those are involuntary guests. Nico couldn't get rid of them if he tried. It sort of disgusted him.

"Shared? Who was a jerk? I'll go deal with it. Let's go get Gary." Nico said ready to go handle business right away in defence of Dmitry's honor day one of him being back. "Just give me a name." No one's an asshole to his baby, not even while he wasn't there. Especially while he wasn't there... or maybe he just wanted to release some anger out on the person that stole all his time. Yeah, that was probably it. His heart was starting to pound at the very idea of this person existing because he probably would have been just as upset if the person was nice. Then he'd just have been jealous in a different way because it all happened without his involvement during sands dropped in the hourglass of Nico's marriage. His time. His. Everything started to feel so unfair.

Four years of days that he knew nothing about. It just started to kill his heart that these days were shared with some rando.

His eyes started to well up as he wore his hostile face ready to go deal with whatever nonsense he was making up in his head this time. He had to face down the evil roomate and save Gary, bring him back home to safety and solitude. His eyes started to dart around the room a bit more franticly as his emotions started to get away from him. He was trying to stay contained, but it was proving difficult.

He was picturing subjecting Gary and Lisbeth to some schmuck of a person just to pay half the rent? His brain couldn't fathom it. His brain couldn't fathom drowning in misery without being alone while doing it. The concept was so foreign to him. All he ever did was self isolate. Going out to a job to get money and maintaining the human condition of survival through capitalism was weird enough to a person like Nico, but he understood the concept. It was all Dmitry knew. But damn. Just... damn.

He stood up. He grabbed his phone like he was getting ready to go as if Dmitry was simply going to oblige him. But, he also kept looking around clueless like he had no idea what he was doing, no focus. The noises were starting again.

Fuck. It always happens when he gets overwhelmed. He couldn't think. The Hell Radio was fuzzing and tuning itself in and out. He started to cuff his hands over his ears like a sensory sensitive autistic child and pushed hard. He still had his phone in one hand, but he didn't care. He just wanted to cover those ears. Shut it all out. He closed his eyes. He was trying to shut it all down, all his senses, whatever would help calm it. He started to mumble-hum, blocking it every way he knew how.

Then as he was doing this self soothing ritual rocking his body and cringing, he slowly started to loosen up noticing a new sound.

It was Constance. Nico's journal entry was still up on his phone. He hadn't look down to read it yet, but when he mashed it against his head to cover his ears he must have hit the link from Dmitry's reply. As the song played it slowly changed Nico's body language from tight and hurting and trying to sooth himself to being soothed. He was relaxing. He'd keep touching the outside of his arms across his body. Eventually, he opened his eyes again. He must have listened to song five times before his body could calm all the way down from the Hell Radio attack.

Dmitry wanted nothing more than for things to be back to normal, though he also knew deep down that it would not be easy. It had been a long time, and like he had told Nico, things matter and the world shouldn’t be the same for it. But for right now, he just wanted the safety of Nico’s presence, and the promise that they’d figure things out rather than explode on each other.

The way Nico was looking at him while he changed did not escape Dmitry’s notice. He liked it; he loved that Nico, at least, thought he was beautiful, even if he couldn’t himself come up with how or why. It was one of those things he just accepted – sky is typically blue, grass is typically green, Nico admires and loves me.

He also did not miss Nico’s sort of anxious demeanor, it was right there, plain as day. That, he could understand. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t nervous as hell to show up, to speak, to see Nico again – but he had to do it. He needed Nico. He chose not to comment on the obvious anxiety, figuring it might just make it worse if he said anything. Nico was very matter-of-fact, but he was also still human in that sense, and Dmitry had to protect that, keep it safe.

He listened to Nico speak, giving a rephrased explanation of what he had meant to say in that conversation Dmitry referenced. While Nico spoke, Dmitry watched, eyeing him curiously, taking in every detail he had long missed. The way that words sounded coming from him, the way his lips turned and curled to form those words, the way he came closer just to make a point and speak personally, the way he referenced some old movie Dmitry had seen a thousand times… It was all art. It was all precious. Dmitry wanted to snapshot that, to capture it forever, to keep it hanging in a moment of eternal time, just for himself, just to indulge in, just to swim in.

But he nodded when Nico paused to verify. “I did, I said you’re right.” He didn’t dare interrupt beyond that, not wanting to stop Nico on his beautiful roll, not wanting to interrupt art.

He instinctively reached to pet Lisbeth, but quickly got too engrossed in Nico’s words to really actually do anything. The way Nico phrased things was so unique to him, so exactly horrific that Dmitry couldn’t help but love it and feel drawn to it. The halfling’s ways had sort of rubbed on him a bit: death was beautiful. Only Nico would offer to be pain, to be death, and mean it as words of comfort, of passion, of desire. Only Nico could do that. Dmitry wanted to eat that all up, savor every bit.

Nico was right, too. Dmitry didn’t want the usual platitudes people gave – that was the point. They were meaningless. Dmitry wanted someone who could see the suffering and join in solidarity, acknowledge it without squandering it to nothingness. He wanted someone who could feel like he felt, rot like he rotted, die like he died. Nico was that, to him.

“I’ll be miserable,” he said quietly, just for Nico, “but I’ll love every second. I need you, though. Misery without you is… unbearable.” He wanted to reach closer, to touch Nico’s face, to put their foreheads together and kiss him, but he was scared that if he did, Nico would somehow reject him, and he couldn’t bear rejection right then. Not like that.

“I do mean it, yeah. I… can’t promise to participate, it’s really jarring to me and they do things I could never. But… I want to understand. It matters to you, which means it matters to me, and I trust you but I want to understand too,” he explained. “I don’t trust Murmur, I don’t know how I could, but I trust you and I don’t want you to be alone, not with something so important to you. Show me how to do better?”

 He could sense the harder question coming, from that feeling that leaked from Nico’s soul to his own soul. He paid extra attention to those words, those of Nico asking him about the past four years and about where they were standing now. Nico deserved that, he deserved every ounce of care for that.

Once Nico was done asking, he sighed and shook his head silently. “No. I’m not really one to just be with anyone, but… after what happened, being in your soul like that, I don’t think I ever could be with anyone else. I’d rather die alone than pretend someone else approaches even a fraction of what you are. I couldn’t possibly,” he confessed. “I at first didn’t even wanna see your face, I was that angry and hurt,” he said. “I guess… by the time I processed that, I didn’t know how to come back; it felt like there was nothing I could say or do that would be enough for you to understand, let alone forgive me for that. You asked of me, and I asked of you, and frankly I don’t care at this point what I wanted – I just feel like I failed you entirely,” he added.

“So no, no one. I married you. I made up a bunch of excuses for the ring whenever I got asked, people ask. It’s not exactly legal to have a husband over there and I didn’t want trouble even though I can break out of human prison easy. I just wanted to lay low. At some point, I did want you to come for me, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask, to tell you. I left, I had no business expecting you to come for me.”

He paused and looked down at Lisbeth, collecting his thoughts for a moment. Then he lifted his gaze back to meet Nico’s, to speak. “I don’t wanna ask what you did. It’s not that I don’t care; I do. A lot, actually. I just don’t think I could handle knowing if you… I see you a certain way, and I wanna keep that. I didn’t give you much to go on when I left, I don’t think I even dared to expect anything from you. I don’t get to do that, not this time. I’ll answer anything you want to ask, though.”

“The apartment’s shared; he’s kind of a jerk though. I also didn’t wanna risk staying after the whole war thing, I can’t imagine what I’d do if Lisbeth or Gary got hurt. I’d be fine, but without them? No. You’d never forgive that, either, I think. I brought Lis, Gary’s safe too but I gotta go fetch him also. But… I’m here for you. I just can’t, not anymore. Is my mom okay? Is your mom okay? I need to know that.”

[ @iconoclast-infidels ]

[nocapesdahling]

All of Me

Pre-Serum! Steve Rogers x F! Reader

My Masterlist

Summary: Steve Rogers, the man you want to spend the rest of your life with, is going to war and you don’t know what you’ll do without him.

Rating: T

Warnings/Tags: Established relationship; Angst; Some fluff mixed in; Mentions of death and war; No Peggy/Steve for the purposes of this fic; Steve Rogers is a sweetheart; Canon Compliant

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I haven’t posted anything I’ve written for Steve before, and I love pre-serum Steve so much. Well Steve in general, but pre-serum Steve does hold a special place in my heart. This story and its angst were inspired by the song, All of Me by: Billie Holiday.

Your Goodbye left me with eyes that cry

How can I go on dear without you?

———

The wind was against you, blowing you backwards even as you pulled your coat tighter around you. It made your eyes water — the tears that you’d been holding in since hearing the news helped along by nature. Your throat was tight, but you couldn’t cry. Not now. You picked up your pace, jumping over a puddle and making sure your book was tucked under your arm. It had to stay in pristine condition. It had to, just like you had to get home.

You couldn’t believe it.

He was leaving. Steve was going to war. You knew how much he’d wanted it, going to recruitment offices as often as he could but you hadn’t considered what would happen if he was able to enlist. He was leaving you behind, just like Bucky. Bucky was your friend as he was Steve’s, but this was different. This was Steve, your Steve. The love of your life, the man you planned to grow old with — the man whose hand you’d held in yours as you both promised to live to 100 together. 100/100.

When he left, your heart would go with him even if your body couldn’t. He would take the best parts of you with him to the front and you would be left with memories — memories of his embrace, the blue of his eyes as they crinkled at the corners when he smiled at you, the way the sun turned his hair to gold as he laid with his head in your lap on lazy afternoons. All gone. You held in a sob as you started to run. There would be no more lazy afternoons in the park or the apartment. There may never be again.

Steve may not come back.

He was so strong in both character and spirit and while you were glad that someone else beyond you and Bucky had seen that, his body and health were no reflection of his inner strength. It was one thing for the two of you to promise to be together forever, but sometimes when Steve was in the middle of coughing due to his asthma — unable to speak, his face pale and sweaty as you mopped his brow and helped him with his inhaler –  you’d wondered if your forever wouldn’t be as long as you hoped. It pained you to have those thoughts and you pushed them aside, hiding them in the furthest recesses of your brain, but now he was going to war and they were all you could think about.

You wanted him to live so badly and did not want to consider what would happen if he didn’t. How could you go on without him?

You reached Steve’s apartment building and flung open the door, running up the stairs while trying to make sure you didn’t fall. A trip to the hospital was the last thing you needed right now. Reaching the right floor, you breathed in to regain some of your composure before pounding on Steve’s door. In your haste, you didn’t even think of reaching for the key that he gave you on your last anniversary. Continuing to pound on the door, you tapped your foot anxiously and didn’t care if you disturbed his neighbors.

What if he had already left? No, he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have. Not without saying goodbye.

Steve’s voice sounded through the door, coming closer as he spoke, “Alright, I’m coming. I’m coming.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, trying not to let loose the tears that threatened to fall. Steve didn’t need to see that right now. He also didn’t need a puddle to clean up outside his apartment. You shook your head and laughed to yourself, brushing the few tears that you didn’t manage to hold in off your cheeks. Your grandmother always told you that the best way to keep from crying was to laugh, but it didn’t seem to be working this time.

When he opened the door and your eyes met, you knew that you hadn’t succeeded in hiding your sadness from him. Not that you’d ever been able to when it came to him. Steve’s perceptiveness was both a blessing and a curse in times like these.

“Oh, sweetheart. Come here.”

You threw yourself at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. As you pulled him close, you absentmindedly noted how thin he was. He was as warm as always, but you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining his thin body laying on a battlefield, cold and dead. Steve, your Steve, gone from the world. Forever. That thought set you off again — your tears soaking into his white collared shirt.

He stroked his hand up and down your back and made soothing noises.

“What’s all this, sweetheart?”

You pulled back, grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling him towards the couch. You settled on the couch first in your usual spot before patting your lap. Steve shot you a small smile and brushed a tear from your cheek with his thumb before following your silent instruction and laying down on the couch with his head in your lap. You gazed down at him — desperate eyes running over his face and committing his features to memory.

“You know what this is all about, Steve.”

He hummed before speaking, “I do, sweetheart. I do.” He opened his eyes and reached up to grasp the hand that you’d been using to stroke his hair. He threaded your fingers together and caressed his thumb along your hand. He tried to hide it, but his hand was trembling as much as yours was.

“Were you even going to tell me?” You paused for a moment to get the words out. They felt like they were caught in the sudden lump in your throat.  “Were you even going to say goodbye?”

He squeezed your hand, the calluses and feel of his hands as familiar as your own. “Of course I was, sweetheart. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

More tears fell from your eyes without your consent. You knew your makeup had to have smeared by now.

Steve sat up and moved closer to you, holding both your hands in his. You couldn’t look at him, looking at the small hole in the ceiling that he had been promising to fix for months instead — he wouldn’t have time for that now.

“I thought you’d be happy for me.” He sounded hesitant and confused because you’d supported him throughout in his goal to enlist and helped him to figure out the best recruitment office to go to next. You wouldn’t tell him that you hadn’t wanted to consider the thought of him ever being accepted.

You turned your head to meet his eyes before speaking quickly to reassure him, “Of course I am, Steve! I know how much you want this. But I don’t want you to leave me. ‘Can’t you see that I’m no good without you?’”

“That’s not true, love. You’re the best person I’ve ever met, and I can’t believe you chose me out of everyone. I can’t believe you love me.” Steve’s voice was soft and loving.

You leaned in to kiss him. His lips were gentle against yours as you both savored what may be one of the last times you kissed. No, you couldn’t allow yourself to think that way. You mustn’t.

Steve pulled away first and kissed your forehead before speaking again, “I love you so much sweetheart and I don’t want to leave you. But this is a chance, a chance for me to fight and to make a difference. You know how much I don’t like bullies.”

You nodded, kissing him again desperately — you breathed him in, memorizing the details of his taste and the smell that was unique to Steve. He was wearing the cologne you bought him last Christmas — the smell lingered in your nose and it wasn’t one that you wanted to let fade, knowing in a few weeks the apartment would be devoid of the comfort of his scent. This time your tears mingled with his. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen Steve cry and it only made you sob harder. You pulled him closer to you and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want you to go, Steve. You’ll be taking the best of me with you.”

“Yet I’ll be leaving my heart behind with you, sweetheart.”

Without another word, Steve stood abruptly as though he had just remembered something. He moved over to his jacket and rummaged in the pockets — his movements jerky and nervous before finding what he was looking for. He turned his head and smiled at you. His voice sounded nervous as he spoke, “Close your eyes, love.”

You obliged, though your curiosity got the best of you and you tried to sneak a look to see what he was holding. He shook his head. “No peeking. Be good.”

You sighed before closing your eyes all the way. Steve knew you too well. “Yes, darling.”

He chuckled, “That’s my sweetheart. Alright, open.”

You took in the sight of Steve kneeling in front of you with his mother’s diamond ring in his hand, before bursting into tears again. You couldn’t help it.

“Are those happy tears or sad tears, love?”

You gasped a breath, “Happy tears, Steve. Happy tears.” You laughed in delight even as your tears kept flowing. “Yes, Steve! Yes, my darling! Yes! Yes!” Through your tears, you could see his smile was blinding — sunshine in the darkness. You hoped that light would not be dimmed or extinguished on the battlefield. Steve deserved to shine forever.  

He slid the ring onto your finger and paused to admire the sight. “Sweetheart, my sweetheart. You’re going to be mine. And I’m going to be yours.” Steve sounded as though he was holding in his own tears.

“We already are, Steve. It will just be official now.”

He laughed and pulled you into a slow and tender kiss. You deepened it as his arms wrapped around you. In his embrace, it was easy to lose track of time and you never wanted this to end. You smiled into the kiss before grabbing Steve’s suspenders and pulling him towards the bedroom.

“Come on, husband. Show me how much you’ll miss me.”

Steve smirked at you, his eyes mischievous. “Oh I will, wife. I will.”

You watched Steve finish folding his clothes from your sprawl on the bed. He was almost finished packing, and then he’d be leaving. Leaving you behind. Yet as you caught a glimpse of your ring, the physical manifestation of his promise to return, you felt comforted. He planned to come back to you, and that was all that mattered.

As Steve hummed a few bars of Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered, beginning to pack his keepsakes, you had a sudden realization. You’d forgotten the book. You had to give him the book.

Pushing the blankets off, you stood and grabbed Steve’s white sleep t-shirt that used to belong to his dad from the floor, pulling it over your head.

The book was right where you left it and you checked the inscription you’d written inside the first page one more time to make sure everything was perfect. You hoped that it would bring some comfort to Steve in times when comfort and smiles were hard to find.

You skipped back into the room and hugged Steve from behind, holding the book in front of him and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice was fond as he reached out to take the book. “The Hobbit? For me?”

“Who else would it be for?” You teased, “Yes, Steve. For you. I thought it would be good to have a book to read while you’re traveling and as a distraction.”

“Thank you, love. I love it and I know how much you and Bucky enjoyed it, so I can’t wait to tell you what I think when I get back.”

You gave him one last squeeze before pulling away with reluctance.

Steve stroked the cover like it was a treasure and wrapped the book in one of his shirts with care before zipping his bag. The sound of the zipper seemed to echo with finality.

“Well, that’s everything. I’m ready.” He nodded to himself as if to convince both himself and you of that readiness.

He placed the suitcase by the door before joining you on the bed, taking your hand in his and running his thumb over your ring. The stillness was peaceful and it gave the illusion that time had stopped; then again, maybe it felt that way because you wished the world would stop turning if only for a moment — each minute that passed brought the time when Steve would have to leave you closer and closer. Neither of you wanted to break the silence that had settled between you. Breaking the silence would mean that it was time to say goodbye.

“Promise me you’ll come back,” your voice was insistent. He needed to promise. “Promise me, Steve.”

Steve spoke without hesitation, “I promise, sweetheart. I owe you the first dance at our wedding after all.”

You laughed brokenly, “Don’t be late, darling. I’ll be the one in white.”

He threaded his fingers through yours and squeezed your hand. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, love.”

A car honked outside.

“It’s time, sweetheart.”

You stood together and the walk to the door seemed to be both slow and fast all at once. Steve clutched his suitcase and your hand tighter before dropping the suitcase to kiss you against the door, pouring all his love and passion for you into the kiss. You gave as good as you got, eyes half lidded to take in his expressions as you pulled him as close as you could and slowed the kiss to try to make it last forever.

The car honked again and again in quick succession. Steve pulled away first and watched as you moved away from the door with reluctance.

“I love you, sweetheart. I’ll love you forever.”

“I love you too, Steve. Together forever. Remember 100/100.”

“Always, love. 100/100. I’ll be back, I promise you.”

“You better be, husband.”

“You know I always keep my promises, wife.”

He smiled at you one last time, his eyes glassy. “See you soon, my love.”

“See you soon, my brave, brave Steve.”

With that last farewell, you watched him walk down the stairs until he was out of sight.

He didn’t look back.

As he maneuvered the plane, Steve knew what he had to do even as his mind was consumed by thoughts of you. He thought of the inscription he’d discovered you’d written in The Hobbit, which he’d long since memorized and that Bucky had teased him about when he’d let him borrow it. It was his sole reason for smiling some days.

He loved you so much that in that moment it was painful.

My Dearest Steve,

I hope this book brings you comfort as you travel to the dark places of the world, places where I cannot follow you. Oh, how I wish I could. I will miss you, my love, but I will be comforted by the fact that I am certain to see your face again. You’re so stubborn, Steve. So brave. Let that stubbornness serve you well. Come back to me and bring my heart back with you. I will be waiting with open arms and cannot wait to see your smile and feel your arms around me again. I love you, my Steve. More than words can express. Come back to me, my darling.

With all my love always,

Your Sweetheart

As Steve directed the plane toward the water, he mustered up the will to speak again, “Peggy, tell her how much I love her and that I’m sorry. Tell her that I’m ‘gonna need a rain check on our first dance.’ That I can’t wait to be her husband. 100/100 together forev…”

As the plane went into the ice and the tears froze on his face, his last coherent thoughts were of you smiling at him while dressed in a white wedding dress and his promise to come back to you. Steve always kept his promises. Always. It broke his heart that the only promise he wouldn’t be able to keep was the only one that mattered.

———

All of me. Why not take all of me? Can’t you see? I’m no good without you.

Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

A/N: The lyrics at the beginning and end are from All of Me and “Can’t you see that I’m no good without you?” is a lyric I quoted in the story. There is one paraphrased quote from Captain America: The First Avenger near the end. I did make myself tear up while writing this, which is a first for me. As always, I’d love to hear what you think.

My Masterlist

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hello! Can you write something with female Y/N and Chishiya? She helped him with something and is injured after that. She fell or burn her back or hit her head, but pretends that nothing happened since she think he doesn't care and the injury it's getting worst by days, Chishiya didn't notice at first and he just don't understand why Y/N is not talking with him but lets it go, then the day of game comes and they both have to play and Y/N faints few hours before registration. He is panicking suddenly aware of his own feelings towards her and he is SO worried and feels guilty. I hope you can add a lot of angst but fluffy end? I'm sorry if this is messy, english is not my first language 😭 Thank you!

Of course! And don’t worry your English is great 😊 I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Panicked Confession | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Kuina, Usagi, Ann, Hatter)

Summary: You get badly burnt while saving Chishiya in a game, but made sure he knew nothing about it. Just before leaving for the next game, you pass out and Chishiya finds you, causing him to panic

Warning: swearing, burn injury, vomiting, fainting

Word Count: 4.9k

*reader is female

“Shit! Guys come on!”

You, Chishiya, Kuina and Usagi rushed through the bottom floor of the building. Flames were curling in the air around each side of you, quickly closing in to eat you alive.

All four of you had almost completed the game, being the only players left after the last puzzle of the building. It was a diamond game, a game of intelligence. You were lucky to have been with Chishiya, as Diamonds games were his specialty.

You were all sprinting across the room, together in a tight pack so the flames don’t manage to touch you. You were panting, feeling your lungs collapsing in on themselves, but you had to press on. Only a few more steps before you could jump through the glass window at the end of the room, which was quickly being engulfed.

Suddenly, you saw Chishiya, who was running next to you, trip on a loose bit of debris laying on the ground inconveniently. You looked back and saw him holding his ankle in pain.

Of course, just your luck.

You all stopped abruptly, skidding along the floor and looking back to Chishiya in fear. He saw you all, his eyes widening.

“What are you doing?! Go!” he called out, wincing in pain.

You looked towards Kuina and Usagi, watching as thoughts spiraled around their heads to figure out what to do. The flame was too close behind Chishiya for it to be safe, if someone was to help him, they would have to risk their life doing so.

Both Kuina and Usagi shook their heads and looked away. They turned away from Chishiya and began jogging towards the window again. You froze. There’s no way they would just leave him like that.

“Guys!” You called out to them. They turned to you with fearful expressions painted on their face. “What are you doing?!” You asked, fear and worry dripping from your words. You had to make up your mind soon or you would be burned to a crisp.

Kuina motioned for you to come to her. “Y/N, there’s no time! We have to go!” you could tell she felt awful about this decision, but you weren’t giving up just yet.

You looked back at Chishiya laying on the ground. He was staring at you with a worried expression, wanting you to hurry up and leave him. You couldn’t leave a friend that easy to die. You had to at least try.

You let out a big sigh and lifted your aching legs to race towards Chishiya. He began yelling at you the moment you started running. “No, no, no! Go Y/N! What are you doing?!”

You ignored his shouting and quickly knelt down beside him to lift his arm around your shoulders. You weren’t going to lose anyone else, you promised yourself that after your friends died in the first game you played after appearing in the Borderlands.

Chishiya kept arguing and shaking his head as you tried to lift his body. He was surprisingly heavy for someone his size. “Y/N, go! There’s no time! You can’t save me!” he at screamed you, becoming more desperate with every plea.

You continued to ignore him and began dragging him along towards the window, where Kuina and Usagi were already working on breaking the glass with debris from around them. “You’re not going to off yourself that easily Chishiya as long as I have a say in it,” you rasped out, struggling to keep upright with the extra weight on your shoulders.

As your heart pounded in your ears and you felt the fire become hotter and hotter around you, you suddenly felt an incredibly sharp pain across your spine. The sensation spread all through your body, from your head to your toe, making you cry out and almost collapse to the ground, but you stayed strong.

Chishiya had given up arguing with you, using his good leg to take a bit of his body weight off your pained shoulders. With his help, you managed to move much quicker, limping and staggering your way towards Kuina and Usagi, who had broken the window and were now waiting for you to come, yelling at you to hurry up.

You didn’t look back; you didn’t want to see how close the flames were. You knew it would do nothing but make the situation worse.

As you neared the window, you slowed down as Kuina ran out to help you lift Chishiya up and out of the window. You were relying completely on adrenaline at that point, having lost all of your strength through running and carrying Chishiya.

You managed to lift yourself through the cracked window, earning a few cuts from the leftover glass on the way, and collapsed onto the grass ground below you. A large barrier from inside the room (probably manufactured for the games) closed over the destroyed window as you fell, being lucky to be the last out of the four of you to escape. The flames were locked in, unable to harm you.

The four of you laid on the grass, panting and trying to regain your breath. As your adrenaline calmed down, the pain of your large burn mark set in. You covered your face with your hand and silently screamed against it, trying to drown out the searing pain somehow. You couldn’t worry the others, not after what just happened.

**************

The next couple of days was nothing but a struggle for you. As soon as you arrived back from the game, you stumbled your way to Ann’s medical room. She took a closer look at your burn wound, applying whatever she had to try and reduce the chance of it getting infected. But unfortunately, that didn’t reduce the pain.

After allowing Ann to wrap a bandage around your upper back to protect the wound, you slowly made your way back to your room on the upper floor. You didn’t want to rush yourself in case you made your wound worse, so you took your time in getting there.

Unfortunately, it was a bit too much time, as you managed to bump into Chishiya who popped out from around the corner. A small panic raised within you; you didn’t want Chishiya to see you like this! It’s embarrassing enough to like someone you had no chance with, but for them to see you stumbling and holding onto the wall because you can’t even keep yourself up? No, not today.

You stood more upright than before, giving Chishiya your best fake smile. “Hey Y/N,” he said, walking past you. You breathed a sigh of relief. Well, that wasn’t too bad.

You started to walk again before you heard Chishiya call out from behind you. “Oh, wait Y/N!”

You turned around, biting your tongue so you didn’t let out a yelp of pain as the skin on your back twisted with your movements. “Yeah?” you acknowledged him.

He gave you a half-hearted smile. “Thanks again, for earlier. I would’ve been a goner if you hadn’t risked your life like that for me,” he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. You’ve never seen him thank someone before, so you were shocked.

“Oh, it was no big deal! We should all help each other out, considering we haven’t really got anything else other than each other,” you said, smiling happily. You felt all giddy from him acknowledging the fact that you risked yourself for him.

“Yeah, but it was still pretty cool of you. Even Kuina and Usagi were willing to leave me there,” he chuckled as his own joke.

You laughed and shook your head at him. “I’m sure they were just doing what they thought was best for everyone else in the moment.”

Chishiya nodded and gave you a small wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then! Hatter let me know in the meeting this evening that you and I are together again. I’m glad though, because you seem to have the skill and brains to get through some tough games.”

You were flattered by his compliment. “Thanks, you too though! We would have burnt to a crisp if it weren’t for you during that diamond game tonight.”

The small talk was killing you. You just wanted to get back to your room and wallow in the silence that engulfed it. At least there, you could suffer from your burn wound a little louder than out in the public eye of The Beach.

Chishiya laughed at your statement. “No, I’m sure with you there it would’ve been fine,” he said back, making you smile wider.

“I’ll see you later then,” you exclaimed, waving a hand at him. He waved back with a grin on his attractive features before he turned around and continued down the hall with his hands tucked into their usual spot in his hoodie pockets.

You let out a big sigh of relief. That was close. You felt the pain seeping through your body the longer you stood there, hoping for Chishiya to just end the conversation. You felt guilty, it may have looked like you were trying to escape, since you were slowly backing towards the corner. Hopefully, he didn’t notice.

You stumbled the rest of the way towards your room, wincing and hissing in pain on the way. It felt like Ann didn’t do anything at all, but you couldn’t blame her. She had extremely limited resources and could only leave to search for more every few weeks.

When you finally made it to the door of your room, the familiar number engraved onto the middle of it, you gripped the handle and walked inside.

You collapsed onto your bed onto your stomach. There was no way you would be able to sleep on your back with this kind of pain, so you had to resort to either on your side or on your stomach.

Let’s just say, you had a restless sleep.

****************

You were hoping after a night’s sleep that the pain from your back would have disappeared at least a little bit. But you couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything, it had become worse. You probably managed to roll onto it a few times during the night, reopening any part of the wound that had sealed up over the time you’ve had it.

It took you far too long to get out of bed in the morning. You groaned and moaned in frustration as you crawled your way out of the duvet, almost collapsing off your bed. You felt rather pathetic, but who wouldn’t after not being able to do the simplest of tasks from a wound.

As you were walking to your closet to look for something to wear, you remembered you had to go see Ann again that morning. She had told you last night to return to her medical room the next morning so she could reapply a new bandage onto you, in case the other one gets bacteria or blood on it during the night somehow.

You quickly put on your usual swimmers to wear around the hotel and the black hoodie that you wore most of the time when you got cold. You didn’t want to risk anyone else seeing your wound. The gaping burn mark across your upper back was bound to attract unwanted attention.

You made your way down the hall to go see Ann again. There was nobody in the halls around the rooms due to it being close to noon. You slept in longer than you expected.

You slowly walked down the couple of flights of stairs, making your way to Ann’s medical room on the lower floor. The walk down to the lobby felt longer at that moment than it ever had.

You approached the door with the red cross along the front of it, indicating the medical room. You were about to lift your hand to turn the doorknob before you heard a loud voice yell from further down the corridor.

You shifted your eyes and saw none other than Chishiya striding down the hallway with his usual cocky smirk painted across his face. Of course, you had to run into him out of all people.

“Y/N! Wait!” he yelled as he jogged up to you.

You stayed silent, waiting to hear what he had to say. You wanted to ignore him and just walk into the medical room to see Ann to avoid any kind of questioning or suspicion from him, but you knew that would only make him more curious.

“Hey, you alright?” he frowned, questioning you. He reached out to place a gentle hand on your forearm, but you flinched away before he could touch you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to sound normal. The piercing feeling that your wound brought you began to make its way around your body again, making you slightly shift and shake. ‘Of course, it just has its moment while I’m talking to the one person that I don’t want to look like a weakling in front of,’ you thought to yourself in your head.

Chishiya frowned at your flinch, but seemed to shake it off quickly, moving onto something else. “So anyway, where were you this morning?” he asked, leaning closer to you.

“I-I was in my room. I had a late sleep in,” you said, gripping the doorknob to the medical room.

“Oh, weird. Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?” he said with a smirk on his face.

‘Oh shit, he’s mocking my bad memory,” you thought, feeling embarrassed.

“Um… no? Should I?”

“You, Kuina, Alice, Usagi and I were going to meet up this morning to steal some food from the kitchen and take it to the rooftop. You didn’t show up near the pool where we said we were going to meet!” he exclaimed. He was laughing, obviously not caring too much about your forgetfulness.

You thought for a second. You did recall having that conversation. You guessed that you forgot about it because you were so focused on trying to reduce the pain from your burn. Even if you did remember, as if you would’ve been able to run away from the chefs in the kitchen after taking the food with this injury.

“Me and Kuina even knocked on your door. You must have been really knocked out if you didn’t wake up from Kuina’s loud yelling.”

He then raised his eyebrow and smirked. “Unless you were hiding from me?”

Your could tell he was obviously joking, but he wasn’t far off from being right. That has been your intention since last night, but trust Chishiya to figure you out quickly enough.

You heart rate picked up from his accurate accusation. “Uh, sorry Chishiya, but I really have to go,” you mumbled out, giving him a quick fake smile before walking into the medical room and closing the door behind you.

Chishiya’s mischievous smirk fell from his face. You didn’t even give him a chance to say goodbye, and you seemed oddly nervous from his accusation that you were avoiding him. He felt somewhat hurt. Were you trying to avoid him?

He shook off his suspicions and continued down the corridor to the lobby to find something to entertain him for the meantime. You wouldn’t try to avoid him, would you? Perhaps he’ll confront you about it later.

*************

You were laying in your room reading a book when you heard the usual ring of the bell that was Hatter’s signal for everyone to move down to the lobby to prepare for the night’s games.

“Shit! Is it that late already?” you asked no one, glancing over at the digital clock on your nightstand.

You panicked and saw it was the time that you would head out to games. You said to yourself earlier that you would give yourself an early mark so you could get down there at the right time, considering you would be slow due to your condition, but you got distracted by your book and lost track of time.

You rushed to your feet a little too quickly for your body’s liking, causing the pain of your wound to shoot across your back without mercy, making you yelp in pain and fall forwards.

You managed to catch yourself before you face planted into the ground. You let out a few deep breaths, trying to regain your strength while the piercing pain became worse from your insistence.

You pushed yourself off the ground, placing your foot underneath you and attempting to stand to your feet. You had to make it to the cars at least, you knew if anyone found you at The Beach during game time, they would mark you a coward, or worse: a traitor.

You cursed under your breath and let out pained sobs as you tried to get to your feet again. But unfortunately, your body just wasn’t on your side at that moment.

Your feet gave out underneath you and your head pounded, causing you to feel dizzy and suddenly nauseated. You leant forwards as you emptied the contents of your stomach out onto the floor, gagging on the taste of it in the back of your throat.

Your eyes began to feel heavy, not being able to take the pain and stress you were under. You managed to roll yourself to the side so you wouldn’t land in the pile of vomit and lay yourself across the floor safely before you face planted.

“Fuck,” you rasped out, feeling helpless at that moment.

You couldn’t do anything as your vision narrowed, passing out from pain on the floor of your own room, no one around to help you.

*************

“Hello again everyone! I would like to say a few words before we all get into our groups and drive to our games!”

Hatter’s usual booming voice thrusted across the crowd in front of him. Another night, another gathering. Just like every other day.

Chishiya stood at his usual spot in the back, leaning against the cement wall and rolling his eyes at Hatter’s words. He never seemed to have anything useful to say. Just some preachy words that created false hope.

‘How about for a change, he gave us some advice? It would probably spare some people a few headaches,’ Chishiya thought to himself.

He stood on his toes and tried to search the crowd for the top of your head. He was becoming anxious. You would usually be down in the lobby by now.

He was more nervous due to the way you’ve been acting all day. Usually, you two were joined at the hip twenty-four seven, but the only time he saw you that day was in the morning when you walked into the medical room.

He wondered why you were going in there. You never went to Ann unless it was for something drastic, but you seemed completely healthy and unharmed.

As the time ticked on, Chishiya became more and more worried. You would never skip out on a game; you were too afraid of being caught by the executives for that.

Hatter finished off his nightly speech with the list of groups and which number wristbands go where. Chishiya didn’t even care to pay attention as everyone began making their way towards the entrance of the hotel where they would pile into the cars and drive off to the games. He ran the opposite way, clambering up the flights of stairs to reach the level your room is on. If you had to be anywhere, it would be there.

He powered his legs into a sprint, having to brush his white locks out of his face once or twice due to them getting in the way. He eventually arrived at your room, stopping and panting to regain his breath.

He knocked on your door quietly at first, not knowing if you were asleep or something. “Y/N?” he called out through the door. “We need to head off to the games. Did you not hear the bell?”

When he received nothing but silence as an answer, he took it upon himself to walk in to see if you were there. He opened the door and peeked his head around the side, being careful in case you were indecent for some reason.

As he walked in further, his heart dropped as he saw you laying on the ground passed out.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, rushing over to your body and kneeling beside you. He lifted your head onto his lap gently and immediately checked your neck for a pulse. A small feeling of relief flowed through him when he felt the beat of your heart on his fingers.

“Oh my god Y/N, what’s happened to you?” he stressed, tapping your cheek with his hand to see if you would wake. He was beginning to become more worried as time ticked on. He glanced over at the clock on your nightstand and saw that it was getting later. He had to wake you up before registration closed for all the games.

He lifted you up from under your arms, using all his strength to pull you into your small bathroom. He placed you gently on the tiled floor, stuffing a towel underneath your head for support. He quickly shifted your body around, trying to look for any source of injury that caused you to pass out. He froze when he noticed a few stains of blood on the back of your hoodie. He quickly lifted the hem of your shirt to see what was causing the stains.

His eyes almost popped out of his head from the sight. He gasped at the huge burn wound on your back, stretching across from your shoulder blades to your waist. The bandage that Ann had wrapped around it had come loose, hanging off your abdomen carelessly. His heart filled with guilt as he examined it more closely. Why didn’t he look after you?

He immediately put two and two together and realized that you had probably passed out from the pain of the burn mark.

He stood up from his position on the floor and grabbed a small cloth from your towel rack, running it under the water from the tap. He knelt back down next to you and carefully placed the wet fabric against your wound. He was so afraid of hurting you, but he had to do what he could to make you better for the game.

“Oh, come on, please wake up Y/N,” he breathed out. Stress and anxiety filled his tone, making the air more tense.

“Please wake up, please be okay. I love you, please don’t die Y/N,” he suddenly felt small tears gathering in his eyes as he stood up quickly to refresh the cloth that he was using to clean the burn.

He felt his hidden feelings begin to pour out of his mouth. He couldn’t handle the strain seeing you like this was having on his emotions.

He brought the cloth back, but this time he turned you over slightly so he could place it on your face. Your eyes were still shut tightly, not showing any indication of opening.

Chishiya ran the fingers of his other hand along your cheek, tapping softly on your skin, hoping that you would wake up from the physical contact. He felt desperate. He has never felt this helpless before, not even in games.

He allowed his few tears to fall down his cheek, lifting your head and pressing his forehead against yours. “Please wake up, we have to go. Just wake up and I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled out with shaky breaths.

He didn’t know what else to do. He could do nothing but hope.

A few minutes passed with Chishiya just holding you and pressing the cold cloth onto your face, trying to make you open your eyes. And eventually you did.

Chishiya breathed in a huge sigh of relief when he saw your eyes flutter open slowly, dazed and confused. He smiled and kept the cloth pressed to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed out, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you into his chest for a close hug. You groaned loudly at the contact as Chishiya accidentally placed his hand on your wound.

“Chishiya, be careful,” you rasped out against his chest. He flinched away immediately and apologized.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, lifting you up under your arms again. You groaned, not being able to stand up on your own yet. Chishiya kept you close to his chest as you leant against him.

He managed to clean you up with you leaning most of your body weight on him. He helped you wash out your mouth and clean your teeth to get rid of the taste of vomit and reapplied the bandage that had fallen off your wound. He did it all with such care and concern, being afraid of hurting you or overwhelming you with anything.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the games?” you asked after you had finished rinsing your face.

“I noticed you weren’t at the lobby when Hatter called everyone, so I ran to your room and found you,” he answered, fixing your hoodie on your back from when he had to lift it to clean your injury.

“So, everyone’s gone?” you asked with a worried expression. Chishiya nodded, leaning on the sink next to you to check your face to see if you were alright.

“But if they find us, they’ll mark us as traitors!” you exclaimed, fear filling your head.

Chishiya placed his index finger on your lips to shush you. “Shh, only if they can hear us. We can just stay in here and be quiet, and hopefully no one suspects that we’re missing,” he said, smiling to calm you down.

You searched his eyes for any uncertainty but chose to let it go and just listen to him. “Okay.”

You both sat side by side on the floor of your small bathroom, Chishiya running his hand up and down your arm to keep your anxiety away. After a while of comfortable silence, you spoke up.

“Thanks, Chishiya, for helping me. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be lying on the ground next to a pile of my own puke,” you laughed at yourself.

Chishiya giggled. “It’s okay. I care about you Y/N, I couldn’t just leave you there.”

You looked at him with sparkling eyes, being taken back by his statement. “Really?” you asked, not believing him.

He smiled lovingly and caressed your cheek with his fingers. “Of course, I’d do anything if it was to help you.”

You thought you would have a cute moment together, but that flew out the window when Chishiya slapped you lightly across the cheek. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to bring a shocked expression onto your face.

“But next time, tell me when you’re hurt instead of trying to hide it from me like an idiot! You really think you’d be able to hide something like this from me?” he scolded you like a mother, but you giggled at his reaction.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you next time. Why did I ever think I could keep something from someone with an intelligent mind like yours,” you teased, leaning closer to his face.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows. “Hm, thanks, I guess? Not sure if that was a compliment or if you’re poking fun at me.”

You chuckled. “Take it however you want,” you whispered. You finally closed to space between you, allowing your lips to clash against his. Chishiya let out a shocked sound, but quickly melted against you and accepted your kiss.

You both sat on the floor of your bathroom, moving your mouths together while Chishiya tried hard to place his hands on you without touching your burn mark. You appreciated his care, but he ended up having to awkwardly place them on your upper arms, rubbing up and down them slowly.

You pulled away first, making Chishiya chase your lips as you moved away, making you giggle. “There’s my thank you gift,” you said cheekily, leaning away from him and back into your seating position.

Chishiya pouted at you. “That’s it? That was barely a kiss!” he argued, trying to move closer to you, wanting more of your affection.

“Chishiya, your tongue was in my mouth. I think that clarifies as a kiss,” you stated, placing your hand on his mouth and pushing him away gently. “Maybe let down that tough guy persona more often and take care of me, maybe then you’ll get more kisses.”

Chishiya leaned back and frowned. “Fine, but don’t expect this to be the norm now. I’m not going to let you control my personality just for a bit of affection.”

Well, that was a lie.

Author’s Note: Every Chishiya fanfic I’ve written has had some sort of angsty moment in it 😂 this man is going through it

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: Lena accidentally creates something that makes everyone attracted to her except kara (she is immune) basically jealous!kara 😬

Read on AO3 (Prompt from @urjustwaiting)

“My dearest Lena,” Brainy began, brown eyes bright and earnest as he cradled Lena’s hand in both of his like it was something precious and fragile, “I have always considered you to be my intellectual equal and a friend of the highest order. Recently, however, I have found my feelings of friendship for you have shifted - grown into something unexpected and wondrous.”

Brainy inhaled sharply, gathering his courage as Lena’s eyes widened with abject shock and horror at what was occurring.

“Lena Luthor, I have fallen irrevocably in love with you”, Briany declared confident and unfalteringly certain, “and I was wondering if I could spend time conversing with you over a sizeable meal?”

To say Lena’s day had started strangely would be the understatement of the century. She had arrived at the DEO following the news that there had been an attempted break-in last night at the secret facility that had been successfully fended off by Kara, Brainy, Nia and Andrea (the newest superhero to join the club).

Alex, who had taken her first night off since becoming director, had rushed onsite as soon as she was alerted to what had happened; her first order had been to bring Lena in to evaluate the building’s defenses and put in suitable improvements for any weaknesses identified. It was a sign of how much trust Lena had earned amongst the Superfriends, and more specifically Alex, that no one hesitated to call her in for help with something as sensitive as security flaws.

Lena had fought hard to earn back the trust she had nearly lost, rebuild the bridges both sides had burnt and therefore she didn’t balk at the ridiculously early wake-up call and did not even consider saying no to Alex’s request.

The second she arrived at the DEO, she knew something was off.

People were staring at her, which shouldn’t have been odd for a Luthor in the slightest but Lena was used to being ignored at the DEO. The agents milling the corridors would give fleeting glances and welcoming nods but nothing more - many of them owed their life to a last minute scientific breakthrough courtesy of Lena’s intellect and as such they respected her enough to treat her like she was one of them - like she belonged here - because of it. Walking into the DEO to find herself the subject of many furtive gazes and unsubtle wandering eyes was therefore worrisome to say the least.

Lena’s concern merely increased as she made her way further into the DEO where she couldn’t go more than a metre without being approached by agents trying out a cheesy pick-up line or inviting her to coffee/dinner. Two rather charming agents actually dropped down on one knee at the same time to propose to her there and then - Lena was saved from answering as her wannabe future spouses got into a fist fight. The worst one, by far, was Pam from HR who shouted that she was enthusiastically willing to bear all of Lena’s future children - Lena promptly sprinted into the command centre and had been momentarily relieved to see Brainy there waiting for her.

The relief was obviously dashed a minute later when Brainy grabbed her hand and sweetly announced his love for her.

“Brainy, what the hell!?”

Those were the exact words Lena had wanted to shout but had been unable to find her voice to do so, thankfully (or not so as the case may be), Nia had voiced them for her and was striding into the room with a furious expression on her face.

“Nia, it’s not what it looks like-” Lena rushed to reassure as Nia pushed her boyfriend away from the youngest Luthor.

“How could you?!” Nia demanded, rounding on the Coulan.

“Nia, I think there’s something wrong-” Lena began to interrupt, knowing how much Brainy loved Nia and her alarm bells from the agents earlier ringing loudly in her head when....

“I wanted to ask her out.” Nia exclaimed stamping her foot childishly before turning to face Lena with fluttering eyelashes and a seductive pout. “Lena, please my love is far more real than Brainy’s. Don’t go out with him.” Nia pleaded as Briany scoffed derisively behind her.

“Lena is smart enough to see through your fraudulent affection. She was on the precipice of accepting my offer of a date.” Briany cut in with a superior raise of his chin.

“No, she wasn’t!” Nia rebuked, turning back to Brainy with clenched fists.

“Yes, she was!” Brainy returned, chest puffing out as they both stepped forward as if to engage in battle when a sudden red and blue blur appeared between them as a physical barrier.

“What on Earth is going on?” Kara questioned, brow creased in confusion as she looked between the couple that seemed to be seconds away from trading blows.

“I LOVE LENA MORE!” They both shouted in answer whilst they simultaneously lunged towards one another.

“What?!” Kara gasped as she hurriedly tried to keep the two apart. “Lena?” Kara asked, wide-eyed and gobsmacked, clearly looking for an explanation.

“I don’t know!” Lena responded quick and panicked. “I came in and everyone’s been…”

“Everyone’s been what?” Kara prompted as she ducked a wild swing from a feisty Nia.

“Like this.” Lena gestured to Briany and Nia who were futilely trying to dodge around the kryptonian superhero.

Kara blinked rapidly at this information but reacted quickly, super speeding Brainy and Nia away from the command centre as carefully as she could. Kara was back less than a minute later, appearing harried and uncomfortable but she wasn’t looking at Lena any differently to normal. Soft blue eyes watched her the exact same way and as soon as she was back, she gently encouraged Lena into their standard hug with a light touch to her elbow.

Lena folded happy and willing into Kara’s arms burying her face into the kyrptonian’s shoulder as Kara gently stroked her back.

“So… interesting morning so far?” Kara teased managing to pull forth a relieved chuckle from the CEO.

“You could say that.” Lena sighed, letting her eyes slip closed for a fleeting second as she quickly inhaled Kara’s familiar airy scent before pulling away and putting her armour back on. “I seem to have suddenly become irresistible to everyone here.” Lena explained, nearly convincing herself that she saw a flash of a sad pout on her best friend’s face when she ended their hug. “Except for you, of course.” Lena clarified.

“Well… uh… I…” Kara stammered, face blushing a bright red as she self-consciously rubbed the back of her neck.

“Don’t worry, Kara, I’m not offended.” Lena reassured, giving Kara an out even as it caused her heart to painfully twinge with a familiar loss and yearning that always accompanied the realisation that Kara would never see her the same way.

“Lena-” Kara began, lips pressed tight together as she took a tentative step forward.

“Lena, there you are!”

Kara and Lena’s heads turned immediately to see Andrea striding into the room, dressed to impress in a tight black dress and red soled heels that drew attention to her long, sinful legs.

“Oh, dear…” Lena murmured, swallowing thickly, as Andrea approached with a dark predatory gaze that promised to fulfill all of Lena’s long forgotten teenage fantasies.

Lena was so fixated on the sight of her first crush looking like she was about to devour her right there in the DEO command centre that she didn’t see the heavy frown form on Kara’s face, nor the way blue eyes flickered red for a flash.

The sound of a rumbling growl was the only thing that broke through Lena’s stupor and pre-empted a red-blue blur sweeping Andrea out of the room, presumably to deposit her in the same place as Brainy and Nia.

“Was that your stomach?” Lena asked when Kara reappeared a few moments later.

“Was what my stomach?”

“That growling noise?” Lena inquired with a tilt of her head.

“Uhhhh….” Kara’s mouth opened and closed, the tips of her ears turning red before she nodded her head in jerky agreement. “Yep, stomach, super hungry, no breakfast.”

“You must be, you’re dropping verbs.” Lena joked.

“Uh huh.” Kara muttered, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot as she intermittently shot discouraging glares to any agents that looked like they were even considering coming up to Lena. “Do you have any idea what’s causing this?” Kara questioned, placing her hands on her hips and trying to ease into her Supergirl persona.

“No.” Lena answered honestly.

“Were you exposed to anything? Or working with anything that might have caused something like this?” There was no accusation within the questions, just genuine curiosity and a desire to work through the possible causes. Lena didn’t doubt Kara’s trust in her, not after everything they had been through.

“No.” Lena replied after thinking carefully.

“You were here yesterday and everyone was fine.” Kara rationalised, “So it must have happened since you left.”

“Kara, I didn’t do anything after I left. I went home, watched a documentary, had a bath and went to bed as I promised you.”

Lena’s work hours since re-taking L-Corp as her own had exploded and her rare free time was regularly being utilised to support the Superfriends. Lena had spent yesterday tweaking Kara’s supersuit to improve its diagnostic capabilities to provide Kara an edge when flying into an unknown situation. It had taken Kara forcibly frog marching her out of the building and using her puppy dog eyes to get Lena to promise that she would finally go home and relax.

“Good girl.” Kara said, softening immediately at Lena’s answer, blue eyes twinkling with pride.

Lena internally screamed at herself to keep her praise kink under tight control.

“Then maybe something happened overnight? Or whilst you were on your way in?” Kara continued to theorise allowing Lena much needed time to regain her cool.

“Unlikely,” Lena replied thoughtfully, “I stopped for coffee on my way in and no one there acted oddly. It wasn’t until I got to the DEO that things changed.”

“Then-”

“SOMETHING WEIRD IS GOING ON!” Alex announced as she strode in, practically snarling at the agents that were working at their consoles, all of whom had looked a second away from getting to their feet and rushing eagerly towards the older Danvers as soon as she appeared.

Kara, meanwhile, instantly moved to be slightly in front of Lena like a personal shield ready to jump forward but careful not to overstep and diminish the CEO’s autonomy - Lena couldn’t help how her heart fluttered at Kara’s mindful concern.

“Are you in love with Lena too?” Kara challenged, narrowing her gaze at her sister.

Alex came to a sharp and sudden stop, jaw dropping open as she looked between Kara and Lena, “Too?” Alex echoed, and Lena watched in confusion as a slow and incredibly bright grin appeared to light up the Director’s face. “Did you finally-”

“BrianyandNiaareinlovewithLena!” Kara yelled, panicked and fast paced, hands flapping wildly at her sides.

The smile vanished alongside whatever Alex had been about to say. “I’m sorry, did you say Brainy and Nia are in love with Lena?”

“Yep.” Kara popped as she let out an unusually large sigh of relief that made Lena think she may have missed something important in the sister’s aborted interaction. “As well as nearly all the DEO agents, but no one from the coffee shop so we think it's localised to here which is weird because we can’t seem to find a potential cause that would explain that.” Kara rambled, clearly intent on brushing over whatever had just happened. “Therefore I asked if you were in love with Lena like Briany, Nia and Andrea.” Kara explained placing unnecessary emphasis on their friends' names.

Alex glanced from Kara to Lena, frowning heavily, “Sorry Lena but I’m quite happily taken.”

“Shame.” Lena tsked, earning her an affectionate eye roll from the redhead, before being struck by a sudden realisation. “Wait, then why were you coming in yelling that something weird is going on if you didn’t know about me?”

Alex shot a look over her shoulder before moving closer to the other two and dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “People are being… ‘overly friendly’ to me.”

Kara and Lena shared a look.

“Hey!” Alex snapped, bringing guilty green and blue eyes back to her. “I’m being serious here!”

“So by ‘overly friendly’ you mean…” Lena prompted.

“People keep trying to hug me and ask me how my day is going. And they keep… complimenting me.” Alex whispered like she was sharing some heinous crimes.

Both Kara and Lena’s eye muscles twitched with the desire to share another look but they managed to resist - just.

“It’s weird.” Alex defended haughtily. “Yesterday, they were too scared to look me in the eye for longer than a second and now they can’t go ten seconds without giving me a motivational speech about how good a job I’m doing.”

“It could be worse.” Lena said trying to be comforting,

“How?” Alex huffed.

“Well, Pam from HR told me she wanted to bear my children.” Lena said with a shrug that was immediately followed by a loud CRUNCHING noise.

Lena turned to find the source of the ear-splitting sound only to discover that the round titanium table Kara had been leaning against was now heavily crumpled around two tightly clenched kryptonian fists.

“Kara?” Lena squeaked whilst Alex merely face-palmed.

***

“It doesn’t make sense.” Lena mused, unknowingly posed like ‘The Thinking Man’ on the stool as Alex and Kara paced the space.

They had made the wise decision to move to what was considered Lena’s lab at the DEO to free themselves of the foot traffic of the command centre that had both Danvers sisters glowering at any agents that dared to approach (though for vastly different reasons).

“What are you thinking Luthor?” Alex asked, plopping herself down heavily on the stool by the CEO.

“Disparate pieces that don’t logically fit together.” Lena murmured quietly more to herself than to the other two before she lifted her head and tried to slowly talk through what her mind was attempting to process. “Whatever happened, clearly happened in the last,” Lena glanced at her watch, grimacing at the time as her head pounded with lack of sleep, “eight hours. I left here at six yesterday and no one was acting any differently to normal. Whatever has happened changes people’s behaviour towards us.” Lena gestured between herself and Alex, “but only us. And whatever is doing it is localised to the DEO.”

Lena paused, giving the sisters a chance to disagree with her assertion of facts, both Danvers nodded in agreement and encouragement to continue.

“Therefore, we have two options:” Lena continued, laying out the two theories she was working with, “either something happened at the DEO that is causing this and we are merely triggers for it. Or something happened specifically to us and being here is triggering it.”

Alex pursed her lips, thinking carefully through Lena’s logic, “Which do you think is more likely?”

“Something happening at the DEO.” Lena answered with a shrug, “One target, one location, rather than two is more straightforward.”

“Agreed.” Alex sighed, “And we know something did happen after we both left last night.”

“The attempted break in.” Lena concurred.

Alex nodded, shifting to face the kryptonian who had been listening intently to the conversation, “Kara, give us a rundown of what happened.”

Kara frowned, hands moving to rest on her hips in classic Supergirl pose, “It was just dumb thugs looking to make a quick buck. They’d stumbled upon some alien tech that they knew fetched a good price on the black market. Rather than sell it quickly and get away with it, they got greedy. They knew more tech was held here and figured they could double their profits if they used the tech they already had to pull off a heist.”

“I want it noted that the DEO is the worst kept secret in this city,” Lena snarked, with a roll of her eyes, “and that’s saying something considering Supergirl's disguise is a pair of glasses.”

“Noted,” Alex grunted, shooting the youngest Luthor a smug smirk, “which is why making it your job to fix that for us.”

Lena chuckled darkly, “You couldn’t afford my consultation fees.”

Alex’s smugness increased tenfold at that, her chin lifting defiantly as she laid down her ace, “That’s why I’m making Kara be the one to ask you.”

Lena gasped, utterly outraged, “You underhanded-“

“Guys, focus!” Kara bellowed, clapping her hands loudly together to break the two of them out of their regular snarky banter that could go on for a good hour if not interrupted quickly (it was how they showed their affection for one another).

“Right.”

“Sorry.”

Alex and Lena murmured apologetically, gazes dropping to the floor as Kara shook her head in amusement at their familiar antics.

“What tech did they use?” Alex questioned, bringing them back on track.

“Stupid gas.”

Lena’s brow furrowed at the response and Alex’s aggrieved grunt that followed it, “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s a bio weapon that makes-“

“People stupid?” Lena guessed.

“Hyper emotional, but… yeah.” Alex clarified, “Like when I was exposed to it, I just laughed for like an hour straight.”

Lena hummed thoughtfully, brain whirring away to make connections with this new information, “Are kryptonians immune?”

“No.” Alex laughed, earning her a pout from the Super that made Lena take a mental note to beg Kara for the obvious story behind it another time.

“Then why isn’t Kara affected by all of this?” Lena questioned, throwing in the other variable they hadn’t considered.

“Now that you mention it, the stupid gas didn’t work on me last night.”

Alex’s face scrunched up in confusion, “It did last time.”

Kara shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, “I think Lena’s upgraded suit protected me.”

“My upgraded…” Lena began slowly, her eyes suddenly going wide as she recognised the suit Kara was currently wearing to be the one she had been tinkering with all day yesterday, “Kara, I told you not to wear that yet. I hadn’t finished tweaking it!”

Kara winced at the sharp tone, hands flying up in supplication and surrender, as she whined defensively, “It worked perfectly Lena.”

“That’s not the point-“ Lena rebuked, crossing her arms aggressively causing the superpowered alien to shrink under her green-eyed glare.

“Kara’s not affected...” Alex murmured, though her voice was quiet there was something sharp to her tone that cut through the room - it was the tone that preceded a ‘Eureka’.

“Alex?” Kara and Lena both prompted.

“I have an idea.” Alex announced jumping to her feet, and snatching up her jacket, “I need to test something out.”

“Okay, what are you thinking?” Kara called out as Alex rushed out of the lab.

“I’m thinking that I’m grateful I memorised the number of that twenty four hour Chinese takeaway.”

***

Lena and Alex stood back and watched in complete horror as the DEO agents ravaged the table loaded up with potstickers, stuffing their mouths with ten at a time and throwing punches over the last handfuls. They had to forcibly pull Kara away from the scene who twitched with the obvious desire to throw herself into the mix to get a share for herself.

“I don’t understand.” Kara wailed, stamping her foot pathetically, once they had returned to the lab.

“Oh my god.” Lena muttered, snatching up the tablet she had been using yesterday and scrolling through everything she had done to Kara’s suit, leaving the explanation task to the older Danvers.

“They’re feeling what you feel.” Alex announced, “Lena and I aren’t the catalyst. You are.”

Kara’s crinkle appeared and deepened.

“It’s why everyone has been so friendly to Alex.” Lena mumbled, taking over the explanation absentmindedly as she distractedly ran through data, looking between the suit upgrades and the specification of ‘Stupid Gas’. “They feel your sisterly love for her and are treating her like you would but to an extreme degree. It must be because of their exposure to the gas mixed with some upgrade I put into your suit.” Lena frowned, mind running a mile a minute, “I fitted in further diagnostic capabilities that might be able to identify biological toxins and alert you, but-“ Lena froze, head snapping upwards to stare dumbly at her best friend, her entire brain grinding to a dead halt.

“Lena?” Kara inquired, blue eyes instantly glowing with concern at Lena’s absolute stillness and dead-eyed stare.

Alex nudged Kara’s side and whispered helpfully, “I think she’s just realised.”

“Realised what?”

Alex directed a soft and understanding smile at her sister, “How people have been acting towards her and what that means…”

“Oh…” Kara squeaked, paling considerably and breath held tight as she waited for Lena to finally react.

“You want to bear my children?!” Lena yelled incredulously, shattering the awkward silence with that explosive revelation.

Kara’s entire body flushed crimson, as she spluttered out (unable to stop herself), “Ummm… I mean… Preferably after a few dates…”

“Annnnnnd that’s my cue…” Alex announced, turning on her heel sharply and marching out of the room.

Lena blinked repeatedly, still not fully rebooted from this turn of events and everything it could potential - hopefully - entail.

“Lena… I…” Kara began, voice thick with emotion as she took timid, shaky steps towards her best friend, “I don’t know what to say…”

“You love me?” Lena asked, the bluntness of the question softened by the tremble to her voice that highlighted the vulnerability and hope of the question.

It was the hopefulness in Lena’s voice and the way green eyes were dark with poorly hidden want that gave Kara the courage to lift her chin, puff out her chest and declare sincerely, “More than anything.”

Lena let out a shaky breath, throwing her tablet down on the bench and demanding sternly, “Take off the suit.”

“Really?” Kara’s eyes bulged at the request, the flush from earlier deepening to a boiled crimson, “I mean I’m not saying no but I was kind of hoping we could go out on a date first. Maybe? If you’re interested?”

“Kara,” Lena said stepping forward into Kara’s personal space which effectively stopped Kara’s ramble, “you’re still wearing the upgraded suit which is feedbacking to everyone in the DEO your emotions. If you take it off everyone goes back to normal.”

“Oh,” Kara breathed, shaking her head with embarrassment, “I thought-“

Lena reached out, threading her fingers through Kara’s golden hair affectionately before seeking out the nape of her neck to gently tug Kara down the couple of inches between them so that she could press their lips hotly together. Kara’s hands instantly sought out Lena’s hips even as her mouth slipped open granting access to Lena’s insistent tongue.

Lena’s free hand traced the emblem on the supersuit whilst she teased her nails against Kara’s neck earning her an appreciative groan that served as the only warning before Kara effortlessly hoisted Lena up onto the lab bench pressing eagerly forward into the space between Lena’s legs.

Lena nipped at Kara’s bottom lip before breaking away, panting heavily to regain her breath. Kara, meanwhile, didn’t even hesitate to track kisses down Lena’s jaw and neck, sucking at her pulse-point until Lena’s legs wrapped tightly around Kara’s body desperately trying to earn some relief.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Lena gasped.

“Oh, I do.” Kara murmured earnestly, leaning back to fully appreciate how wrecked Lena looked.

Lena lightly shoved Kara back with a playful laugh, fingers tapping against the edges of Kara’s supersuit emblem as she quirked a mischievous eyebrow. “The sooner you take this off, the sooner the problem is fixed and we can go on that date.”

Kara’s entire expression lit up at that and in flash she had disappeared only to return less than a second later dressed in the DEO sweatsuit that Lena adored.

“Shall we?” Kara checked, bouncing up and down so excitedly that Lena couldn’t resist pulling her back in for another deep kiss.

[rocorambles]

Let's Give It A Try

Pairing: Bokuto x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Mafia AU, Sex Toys, Overstimulation, Use of Sir, Dirty Talk, Degradation

Summary: Dating a man like Bokuto Koutarou goes against every moral code you’ve learned growing up, but love has a funny way of going against the grain.

Bokuto exhales, sighing as he leans broad shoulders against the rough exterior of the building behind him, cigarette smoke floating in tendrils in front of him. He prides himself on the strength and health of his body, but when he gets in one of his moods after a particularly strenuous week, he can’t help but rely on the way the nicotine mellows out the stress of his job. Closing his eyes, he lets the muffled beat of the music inside the club reverberate through his chest, letting himself let go just a tiny bit. Foolish maybe, considering just how many people want him dead, but he allows himself a moment of lax judgement while on his turf, literally on the ground he owns, surrounded by his men both in and out of the club, under the watchful blue eyes of his right hand man.

Everything will be just fine.

And suddenly everything’s a little bit more than just fine as his curiosity peeks, sharp owl-like eyes scanning you as you come stumbling out of the club, taking deep ragged breaths, completely unaware of your surroundings as you greedily inhale the fresh night air.

He has to bite back the sharp grin that threatens to stretch across his face at your adorable jump and squeak when you finally straighten up and take inventory of who’s around you, quivering like a little mouse when you meet his intense golden gaze. There’s something different about you and he can tell with just a quick glance at you that this isn’t your usual joint, taking in your considerably conservative and casual outfit for the area’s most popular nightclub, the nervous ticks and almost bashful way you curl in on yourself, unused to the hungry look he continues to direct at you.

It takes some coaxing and he almost feels bad at how he swears he can hear your frightened and unsure heartbeat pounding your chest as he approaches you. But his talons are out, wide eyes too curious and intrigued by the prey that’s caught his attention to just let you go off on your merry way. He croons at how you stutter, tripping over your words in your nervousness, licking his own lips for a different reason when he sees your pink muscle dart out to wet your dry ones.

But he can feel his wings furl out to their full span, can feel himself prepare to lunge at you when he finds out that his sweet little mouse came all by herself, trying to get over your recent breakup by having some fun, maybe even finding someone to…

This time he does laugh when you embarrassedly trail off, ending your anxious ramblings, before pinning you down with a wild grin that makes your chest tighten.

“I can be that someone.”

There’s something about the man that leaves you on edge. You can’t deny the fact that he’s handsome, in a wild rugged way that reminds you of a predator. But there’s something...intense about him, something in his eyes, something in his presence, something in his aura that makes you shiver, keeping your suddenly heavy feet rooted to their spot. Not that you’d get very far if he was intent on doing you harm you ascertain as you stare at the muscular and toned figure in front of you.

Yet despite all that, you can’t help but believe that he really does mean you no harm. Maybe it’s what you want to believe. A last hope and faith that not all men are scum like your ex is. Desperate to believe that there are decent men out there, that you can find happiness and maybe even love one day. So going against every ounce of self-defense and common sense that’s been instilled in you all your life, you take this stranger’s hand and let him guide you away, finding comfort in his warm, calloused grip.

Even if you do end up dead after all this, you can’t help but think you’ve made the right decision, your problem more than solved as any thoughts of your ex (and anything else really) fly out your head as soon as you’re dragged into an alarmingly luxurious apartment. He really is more animal than man and you cry out as teeth harshly dig into your neck, possessively and hungrily marking every inch of you, lips greedily wrapping around perky nipples and sucking with a force that makes your eyes roll and your nails dig into his thick biceps. But that only seems to egg him on more and you vaguely wonder if you’re going to cum before he can even get to the main course, body already overwhelmed with arousal and desire as he touches you everywhere except where you need him most.

You’re positively dripping by the time he does make it between your legs, too high strung to even be embarrassed, letting out a high pitched whine instead when he teasingly blows on your sopping wet entrance, pressing your thighs apart, leaving you on full display. And you swear you black out purely from relief when a hot wet tongue finally licks a long line up your slit. So on edge already, it only takes a few flicks and lapping of your aroused clit to have you careening off that pleasurable cliff and you sob, body thrashing and convulsing as you ride out your orgasm while lips and tongue continue to work you over.

You blearily blink as you finally regain control of your body, expecting the man between your legs to take the hint as you try to sit up on your elbows. But you scream, instantly collapsing on the bed, hands fisting in the sheets besides you as two thick fingers suddenly slip inside of you, beginning a relentless pace right from the start, hot tongue still lapping and licking at your sensitive clit. It’s too much, too soon and you writhe, body trying to pry yourself away from the torturous pleasure, but also aching for another release as the coil in you is wound tight. Not that Bokuto leaves you much choice as he easily keeps you pinned down, your legs no match for the strength of his arms and upper body as he continues to feast on you, your pretty cries and screams music to his ears, your delicious juices intoxicating. And before you even realize it, you’re forced to your second peak, creaming and clamping down on the digits still stuffed inside of you, back arching, mouth opening in a silent scream.

Surely it’s over and you tell yourself that you’ll just close your eyes for a brief moment, a few seconds at most before paying him back with a blowjob, handjob, whatever he wants in return. Except your companion has very different plans on exactly how you’ll return the favor and your eyes shoot open, pathetic pleading noises spilling past your lips as you feel something hard and thick press against your entrance. But then he’s shoving inside of you, cock splitting your spent hole in two, and your mind blanks, unable to resist, unable to enjoy, only able to take and feel as it drags against your walls, going deeper and deeper.

And that’s how you pass out, one of the last clear memories you have before your mind fades to darkness, exhaustion and bliss rendering you useless as you’re ruthlessly fucked into and used by the man above you as he chases his own end, head empty except for mindless thoughts of cock, cock, cock.

There’s a few more one night flings after that and you try and convince yourself that it’s just that, nothing more, ignoring the pang in your heart when Bokuto sends you a sad face via text when he wakes up to an empty bed, ignoring the guilt resting heavy on your shoulders when you accidentally sleep in longer than you meant to and have to pry yourself from a pouting face and gentle grip on your wrist as gold eyes plead for you to stay.

But Bokuto Koutarou always gets what he wants and you find it harder to wriggle out from his strong arms as the sun’s rays filter through the windows, you find it harder to not sit down at his dining table and stay for a piping hot cup of coffee, you find it harder not to wake up and nuzzle closer to his body, cuddling and sweetly talking with him more than a casual relationship warrants.

And you find it impossible to not say yes when he asks you to officially go out with him one lazy morning as he cradles you in his arms.

Dating Bokuto is an adventure unlike any you’ve been on before and it’s so easy to be swept along in his enthusiasm and energy, giggling like children in one moment before you’re being pounced on in the next, gold eyes darkening in raw hunger and lust. Bokuto is an enigma that you wonder if you’ll ever truly understand, so easily shifting from a cheerful goofball to a dangerous predator and back again. But you don’t mind, finding the multi-faceted personality one of his strong suits...until it isn’t anymore.

You’d always had a feeling that Bokuto was hiding something from you, some things not quite adding up, the outgoing man strangely reticent about certain topics, especially regarding his work life and where his money comes from. But you had chalked it up to your sweet boyfriend being humble, not wanting to delve too much into his enormous wealth, because he must have enormous wealth from the penthouse apartment he lives in, the extravagant vacations he whisks you away on, the luxury gifts he bestows upon you without blinking an eye. And you’re correct, just not in the way you had imagined and you tearily and accusationally glare at him when you accidentally come across the hidden switch in the back of his closet, door opening and revealing crates and crates of a white powdery substance.

You want him to laugh it off like he always does, tell you some bullshit about it being for some prank he’s going to pull on Akaashi or Konoha, that it’s not what you think it is. But he doesn’t and the two of you just silently stare at each other, the pieces connecting all too clearly even without a word being said. And you leave, betrayal and hurt digging their claws into you as you leave behind a man who you thought you had known, who you had loved, but who you realize maybe you don’t really know at all.

It feels eerily familiar, a sense of deja vu flooding you when you take hesitant steps into another nightclub in the area, desperate for another distraction, another fling to fuck you free from thoughts of gold eyes and a muscular body. You tell yourself that there’s nothing similar about the solid build of the stranger you’re grinding up against, that the similarity in appearance is just coincidence as the two of you stumble to his apartment. But then lips and hands are all over you, too gentle, too soft, treating you like glass, words too cautious. Everything’s wrong, wrong, wrong and when he begins a slow careful pace, fucking you like he’s making love, so different from the way a certain man would have broken you down to pieces only to build you back up, you shove him off, uncaring of how rude you’re being.

That night when you return to your own bed, you sob in frustration, toys, dildos, vibrators scattered around you as you seek any relief you can get, looking for even the slightest mimicry of Bokuto’s touch, trying to remember what he sounds like, what he feels like. But memory and imagination can only get you so far, can never live up to the real thing, and you scream into your pillow as an unsatisfying orgasm ripples through you, the realization that Bokuto has ruined your body for anyone else, even yourself, sinking into you.

It’s absolute stupidity to be with someone just for great sex. Absolutely ridiculous. What decent human would go crawling back to their drug-dealing ex just for his good dick game? God knows what other shady underground shit Bokuto’s up to and you know it runs much deeper than a single room full of cocaine.

But maybe you’re not a decent human. Maybe that’s why you still can’t stop thinking of him despite how you try and hold out, despite the multiple flings, nights, and even entire weekends you spend with yourself in bed, spending far too much on sex toys, pussy and clit throbbing, fingers and hands aching from constantly bending to be inside yourself. Yet for all that, you’re never satisfied, every weak orgasm, every disappointing touch from another man only making your need for Bokuto even more pronounced, until you finally break. And a month later you call Bokuto, a scrambled frantic call over the phone with a dildo shoved deep inside you, a vibrator buzzing on your clit, tears streaming down your face when they do nothing to take away the yearning inside of you, begging and pleading for him to come and help you.

It’s humiliating how even just the sight of him skyrockets your arousal to levels you haven’t felt since the two of you dated and you whimper as he casually leans in your doorway, thick arms crossed across his chest, gold eyes raking over your sweating nude figure that’s writhing on top of rumpled bed sheets.

“This is a good look for a desperate slut like you. Couldn’t cum without me? No one, not even your little toys could make you feel good? Maybe I should just leave, just like how you left me. Leave you high and dry. Well I guess maybe not that dry.”

You pant, wide blown out eyes watching as he slowly approaches you, face heating when he bends down to peer at your dripping cunt, mockingly whistling at how you pretty hole is no different than a leaking faucet, inner thighs drenched in your arousal.

“Koutarou, please-”

You scream as fingers harshly twist at your nipples, eyes rolling to the back of your head as just that brutal touch is enough to bring you over the edge you had been hovering around for so long, body convulsing, a dopey grin making its way onto your lips when you finally feel the pleasure you’d been craving for so long.

“Fuck, you came from just that? Who the fuck said you could cum? Who the fuck said you could use my name? Sluts like you don’t deserve to say my name. You know what to address me as.”

You wail, pain melding with the pleasure as he shoves your vibrator away, alternating between pinching and slapping your already overstimulated clit as he enunciates every word he snarls at you, a feral grin stretching across his face at your barely coherent babbles of “sir” and “sorry”.

The constriction in his own pants is painful and he’s quick to strip waist down, slowly palming his aching erection. It takes everything in him to hold back, to not just shove balls deep inside of you in one strong thrust, your absence affecting him just as badly. But that’s not what this is about. This is about making a point, reminding you just how wrong you were for leaving him without a single word, rebuilding what the two of you once had. And as ravenous as he is, he takes his time, willing himself to slow down and rediscover every inch of you, painstakingly exploring your body once again, re-memorizing every sensitive part of you that elicits a little gasp, a tiny mewl.

And he doesn’t stop, pulling the dildo inside of you completely out, using his teeth, tongue, and finger to bring you to the edge over and over again, always backing away just when you’re about to fall off that pleasurable cliff once more, diving back in like a man starved just when you think you have a shaky grasp on your senses. Only when you’re full out sobbing broken cries of his title, a litany of “please, please, please” escaping you does he move on and he groans at how perfectly your legs wrap around his back, urging him inside you as his cock finally makes contact with your gushing cunt, your hands weakly pawing at him in a silent plea for more.

But again he stops, bringing a thumb to wipe away your tears as you begin to wail anew, frustration and denial tearing you to shreds, instinctively leaning into his touch as he gently strokes your cheekbone.

“Tell me who’s the only one who can make you feel good. Who’s the only one who can pleasure you?”

And as you scream his name, he finally slams inside of you, relentlessly pounding in and out of you, gold eyes hungrily taking in how wrecked you look, how broken you look, all because of him, only for him.

It doesn’t take long for both of you to tumble together over that edge, not when both of you are beyond pent up, absence making your hearts grow fonder and your bodies desperate for each other. And you can’t help the content warm surge inside of you when you feel hot thick liquid fill your insides, your body lax and useless in post-coital bliss, heart and mind eager for Bokuto to collapse beside you and pull you into his toned chest like he always does.

Except there is no familiar weight beside you and your head shakes side to side, drool trickling down your face when Bokuto’s softening cock is suddenly replaced by four fingers brutally thrusting in and out of you, curling just right along your still quivering walls.

“We still have a long way to go, little mouse. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You don’t know how many times you’re forced over the edge after that, consciousness fading in and out as he assaults your cunt with his fingers, his tongue, his cock. You even vaguely remember waking up once to a dildo in your ass, Bokuto pounding into your cum-filled pussy, your body more stretched than it’s been in a long time. They all blur together, only tied together by the delirious pleasure that numbs everything else until you’re succumbing to darkness one last time as yet another body shaking orgasm rips through you.

It’s the scent of fresh coffee and bacon that awakens you and you blearily open your eyes, only to immediately wince as soon as you try to move, your body feeling like it had been rammed into by a truck (although you suppose that imagery isn’t too far off from what actually transpired). Sinking back into the plush pillow and mattress, you close your eyes, wondering what’s your next move. Force your aching body out of bed and confront the inevitable, already somewhat dreading having to face Bokuto now that your mind isn’t clouded with lust? Go back to sleep and pray that he’s gone when you wake up again, like a coward?

But Bokuto doesn’t leave you a choice and you shyly cover yourself with the blanket when he comes bounding into the room, a heaping plate of food and a cup of the delicious caffeinated beverage in his hands, heart fluttering when you see the warm and affectionate grin on his face as he approaches you, carefully placing everything on the nightstand before tenderly pecking your forehead and murmuring good morning.

You try to say something, anything, words getting stuck in your throat, but you’re shushed as the coffee mug is carefully placed in your hands, Bokuto’s soothing voice urging you to eat and recover first. And you gladly take the excuse, hunger and thirst from last night’s endurance marathon finally making itself known as you devour everything. But there’s only so long you can avoid the inevitable and with belly full and feeling more yourself, you listen as he gently grabs your hand, letting him entwine his fingers with yours as he tells you everything.

Who he is. What he does. Exactly how he’s affiliated with the Fukurodani Syndicate.

None of it is surprising, a lot of it what you had surmised and guessed yourself. But it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow knowing just how much he had kept from you, how much he had been planning on keeping from you for who knows how long. At least it’s all out in the open now though, no secrets left between the two of you, and there’s a pause as he continues to rub his thumb on the back of your hand.

“I won’t sugar coat who I am and what my life is. I don’t expect you to come running back with open arms. But if you’re willing to give it a try, I swear that there’ll never be any more secrets, that I’ll protect you, that I’ll love you. I’ll be the damn best boyfriend there ever is.”

You almost giggle at how childish the last sentence is, hope churning in your stomach when you see how genuine and passionate he is, fondness flowing through you when you recognize the man you had fallen in love with beyond the dirt on his hands. And you know it’s arguably foolish, goes against every moral code you’ve grown up with, but love never does seem to follow set equations and rules and you bring that hand to your lips, affectionately kissing your clasped fingers as you meet gold eyes.

“Let’s give it a try.”

[thefanficmonster]

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing. 

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him.  One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

[ddarker-dreams]

Out With the Old. Yan Childe x Reader [COMM]

Warnings: Brief mentions of injury and blood, typical yandere undertones. Word count: 3.2k. Notes: i absolutely loved writing this!! i never realized how badly i needed a yandere childe that’s so obviously whipped for his darling. :’))

i.

“Dearest [First],

I can only imagine the look that must be on your face as you read this. Don’t be too harsh on me for saying so, but I promise not a day goes by where I haven’t thought of you. Now stop scowling at the letter, it won’t do any good, after all; it’s just a piece of paper. I’d hate to come back home to see that you’ve aged from all that frowning at parchment.

Somedays I wake and fail to notice I’m in Inazuma instead of Snezhnaya. The scenery has its differences, of course, but it’s only when I realize I can’t see you that it truly sinks in. Writing this, I realize your judgment about my honesty only appearing in written form rather than in person is true. You’ve always had a penchant for keeping me in line, haven’t you?

Not that I can blame you.

You’ll be relieved to hear that the reason for my being here turned out to be a simple misunderstanding. There’s no grand coup d'état waiting to unfold amongst the lower ranks, so, unfortunately for me, it turned out to be a waste of time. On the bright side, that means I’ll get to come back home all the faster.

Tonia tells me that you’re doing well and I’m glad to hear it. I know your parents aren’t that fond of me, which is a smart call all things considered, but I hope they’re both in good health. Let me know if they need any help with their shop and I’ll see what I can do. Just don’t let them know it was from me, or they might blow a gasket.

When I come home, I wonder if I’ll see your face among the crowd on the pier this time.

At the very least… consider not discarding this letter like the others. Really, I can’t tell who is more stubborn, me or you.

-Yours eternally, Tartaglia”

This is the first letter of his that you’ve bothered reading in some time, as he made a point of mentioning. It’s difficult to identify the exact feelings his handwriting and characteristic word choice inflicts upon you, ranging from relief to exasperation. He has some audacity, refusing to see you in person for months on end, only to carry on as if nothing happened between you.

With the letter in hand, your mind wanders back, hoping to find some hints of where it all went wrong.

You remember the words said to you on that late, fateful winter evening. The confident timbre of his voice then still resonates in your head at random, never muffling despite the years that have passed, ringing as clearly as a bell. Does he ever think about it? It’s hard to say.

“One day,” Ajax, or Tartaglia as he claimed his new identity to be, had told you, “I’m going to conquer this world.”

His breath materialized in front of him as white, vaporous wisps. There’s something about that particularly frigid season that felt like magic, more so than the Cryo Vision wrapped snug around your neck. You bit back a scathing remark and instead focused your energy elsewhere. Your gloved hand raised and hovered just above his split lip, a prominent frown etched onto your face at the fresh wound. Likely the first of many to come, you lamented.

Your Vision pulsated with life and light blue shone through at your command. The tender, bruised flesh on his lip began to close, before it faded away altogether. Tartaglia raised his hand to gently touch where it had been, now nothing but a faint memory.

With that out of the way, you placed your hands onto your hips and gave him a stern look. “I wish you’d stop saying things like that. It’s going to get you into trouble one day.”

He laughed and waved off your concern.

“If only. Things have been so dull lately, I wouldn’t mind stirring up a little trouble.” Tartaglia hummed, much to your displeasure. It was no secret in your quaint hometown of Morepesok that this boy had been spiraling down a dangerous path. Your parents said as much and even encouraged you to break off ties with him. This just won’t do, you thought.

“Ouch!”

You flicked his forehead and offered up your most intimidating glare. “So you are capable of feeling pain, huh? Good. If it keeps you out of fights, then I won’t heal you anymore.”

Tartaglia rubbed the spot and smiled sheepishly.

“You say that, but I’m sure you’d change your mind if I came to you all bloodied and battered. You’re just that kind of person.” When he paused to reflect, you raised an eyebrow and challenged him.

“Now what’s this? I’m what kind of person, Ajax?” You pinched his cheek, much to his vocal displeasure, mischief gleaming in your eyes. “Say it loud and clear this time.”

“The kind that always looks out for others, even those who don’t deserve it.”

Your arms fell limp by your side. At that moment, your heart twisted in a way it never had before. It could only compare to how it felt when Ajax had stumbled back home after missing for three, long days. You weren’t sure if you had heard him right — his eyes widened as did yours like he felt equally surprised — and he rushed to save himself. The flush that dusted over his face was most certainly not from the cold weather.

Tartaglia shot up and made way for the door at a record speed. “I told my old man that I’d be home before dark. He already worries about me enough as is, so... I’ll be on my way. See ya around.”

Your rebuttal was slow as your tongue felt frozen. Tartaglia waved to you over his shoulder and took off, leaving you to wallow in your muddled thoughts. What exactly had he meant by that? Why did his gaze soften and his usually boisterous voice drop in volume?

Questions flooded your mind, questions that wouldn’t be answered for years to come.

ii.

You’ve always found this area of Morepesok to be serene. There’s no buzz of the community gathering, chattering about the latest gossip and notable news, no vendors vying for people passing by to purchase their fresh early morning catch. The surroundings are nothing but peaceful, and most importantly, silent. In the summer, there’d only have been the sound of the rushing rivers that are now frozen over and humming insects.

Twigs and dry leaves crunch behind the tree stump you’re hanging out at, signaling an approaching figure.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Tartaglia sits down next to you, blades of grass rustling against him as he did so. You don’t bother to look up, instead feigning interest in your fingernails, staring at them intently. Anywhere other than his face, which most likely than not would be boasting his trademark grin. Seeing the fake expression that he plasters on daily would only add fuel to the fire that rages inside.

Your lips part after an uncomfortable silence settles in, the atmosphere growing tenser by the second. “So you’re a Harbinger now, huh?”

“You don’t look impressed like everyone else,” He notes, his language notably more tentative than usual. It strikes through your heart, piercing flesh and blood, your fingers curling painfully tight. If he notices, he decides not to comment. Tartaglia gives you the time to process your overwhelming thoughts as if it’d make any of this easier on you.

“How could I possibly be happy about that?” You snap your head, catching how he’s momentarily caught off guard before it’s covered up just as fast. “This… this is going to be the death of you, Ajax. And Archons, the worst part is, I know me saying that won’t matter in the slightest. That death would just be the result of a fulfilling fight to you.”

Your breathing grows erratic, to the point you’re forced to stop speaking to regain yourself. He doesn’t dare utter a single word — uncharacteristically silent — watching your every movement with calculating precision. It’s taking all your strength to keep yourself together, not wanting to come undone in front of him, feeling weak just for showing this much. This is why you were hoping to avoid him, but figures he’d go out of to seek you out.

“And if I don’t die? Would that make a difference in how you feel?” He challenges, tilting his head, voice dipping in volume. “You can be honest with me, [First]. It’s not just that you’re upset about. No, there’s something else.”

He knows you too well and it’s beyond frustrating. Your body language might be difficult for others to read, but not Tartaglia, who picks up on every little nuance with ease.

Your lower lip trembles. “I hate that this is what you’ve become.”

“So that’s it then,” Tartaglia nods his head, once, coming to terms with it as soon as the words left your lips; like he already knew it all along. “I figured as much, but to hear you say it… haven’t you heard of mincing your words before?”

Hugging your knees to your chest, you internally plead with yourself not to let the nonchalant words get to you. It’s his way of dealing with strife to act unbothered, you know this, and still, it strikes deep. What if this isn’t a façade, but who he really is now? That boy you knew and grew up with — Ajax, your dearest friend — he may be physically sitting next to you, but his soul is gone. Whatever happened in those hellish three days changed him forever. Now his flesh and bones are nothing but a vessel urged on by bloodlust.

How ironic, you think. That your Vision lets you heal physical wounds, but not the unseen kind, which runs deeper than any gash could hope to. Maybe you were a fool for thinking you could fix him, revert him to how he used to be like nothing ever happened. Or maybe he let you try just to earn more time together for whatever twisted reason. Knowing that once reality settles in, you’ll go someplace far out of his reach, where he can never get you back. Sitting here, you realize that it won’t just be you losing him. He’ll also be losing you.

Is that why he is sticking around? To prolong the inevitable?

“When I look into your eyes,” you clear your tightening throat, not willing to let yourself cry. “There’s… there’s no light, no humanity, and you know it. That has to be why you chase all those stupid fights, all so that you can feel alive again.”

Tartaglia allows you the room to ramble without interruption, your venomous feelings that have long festered gushing out. When you work up the courage to look up, you find Tartaglia frowning, staring far off but at nothing in particular. So even he can sometimes be rendered to a loss for words, huh?

He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, the chilly air invading his lungs. “You’re wrong about one thing.”

Another cautious pause. He’s giving this a lot of thought.

“My fighting is not for the sole sake of the adrenaline rush, as enjoyable as that is,” he scratches the back of his neck and forces a laugh. “It’s so that I can get stronger. I told you, didn’t I? That I intend on conquering the world. To do that, I need to be the strongest, or else I can’t fulfill my promise.”

Your lips part, eyebrows furrowing together in irritation, but he places a finger to your lips before you can tear into him. The leather feels cool against your skin, and it’s just now that you realize how close he is to you. Having been so absorbed in your emotions, you failed to notice his stealthy movements, the two of you now shoulder to shoulder. Your heart thrums, reminiscent of that day ages ago.

“When the entire world lays defeated at my feet, what I want is to have you by my side. Until that dream of mine comes true, I’m afraid I’ll have to continue making you sad, but know that it’s for a reason.”

Tartaglia pulls his hand back, his finger lingering just a second over your bottom lip, finally allowing you to speak your piece.

You’re drawn like a moth to a flame to his lifeless eyes, which have seen more bloodshed in the past few months than you could ever fathom. Murmuring, you find it within yourself to respond, albeit so quietly he has to cant forward to hear. “If you accomplish just that… who’s to say I’d want to be by your side? The side of a killer?”

“Hm? Did I ever say you had a choice in the matter?” Tartaglia returns your inquiry with a bold one of his own, one that sends you recoiling in astonishment. He lets the words settle like fresh snow on the ground before laughing them off. You cross your arms over your chest, making your displeasure over his comment evident.

“Please, I’m kidding! Don’t look at me like that,” he puts his hands up in mock defense. “Ah, it’s suddenly feeling colder than usual. You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you? I never thought that humble [First], the child of the town’s apothecary at that, would be so bold as to freeze me to death.”

Your nose wrinkles up and you hold back a laugh, swatting at his shoulder. “Yeah, right. Like I could ever stand a chance against you in battle.”

“You might be surprised! I could make a warrior out of you yet. Think about it, Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa saw fit to bestow a Vision upon you, didn’t she?” He accents his words by pointing to your neck, where you prefer to keep your Vision. Subconsciously, your hand raises, delicately touching the icy gem.

“I’m not like you,” you shake your head at his jest. “Hurting others is the last thing I’d ever want to do, trust me.”

He hums, your words taking him back, memories flashing in his mind. “I know, that’s why I’ve always done it in your stead.”

“Whoever would’ve thought fending off bored kids with a wooden sword would escalate into you climbing the ranks of the Fatui.” Had it not been for the final part of the sentence, you would’ve found it endearing to reminiscence back to your early childhood together. Still, the frost around your heart melts at the sweet memory, despite your attempts to keep it hardened. This goes to show how much I cherished it, you muse.

Lips curling into a smile, you take him by surprise and lay your head onto his shoulder. His muscles go tense, body unresponsive to the affection you used to bestow upon him in heaps. It’d been so long that he forgot the warmth you radiate like you were the sun incarnate. He had once commented that he expected a Cryo user to be cold, only to be delightfully surprised by how warm you were.

“Maybe I was always terrible, and you just didn’t notice?” He proposes, to which you snort.

“That most certainly is not the case. I’m a better judge of character than that.” You scoff at the mere idea. No, little Ajax had been nothing but a darling, there’s no doubting it. Wherever you’d go, he’d follow as if his life depended on it. There was hardly ever a time where the two of you wouldn’t be seen paired together.

“You’ll get no argument out of me there,” Tartaglia rests his head on top of yours like he used to. The circumstances have undoubtedly changed, but it’s nice to feign ignorance for a few minutes. “Say, you remember when we used to sneak off and meet here, right?”

“How could I forget?”

Tartaglia nods his head in agreement. “I was always dragging you into trouble, even then. I’m not one to dwell on the past, but I guess it’s hard not to when we’re here.”

Now that he mentions it, it wasn’t an immediate shift into his now unhinged personality; like all things, it began as a gradual descent. You should’ve noticed something was awry with how frequently he’d come to you, boasting injuries of all sorts. Each was accompanied by a rehearsed explanation as not to alarm you. Unfortunately for him, in a small town such as this, word travels quickly. It was inevitable that you’d find out the bitter truth behind his wounds.

Maybe you always knew but didn’t want to face reality.

“There was this one time in particular that always stuck out to me,” he closes his eyes, reflecting. “When I said I intended to marry you when we got older, or whenever you’d have me.”

You’re amazed at how Tartaglia recounts it without so much as stuttering, the humiliating memory sending your head spinning. There were so many memories he could’ve mentioned and that’s the one he decides to go with? You’re certain he’s messing with you at this point.

“I-I thought we swore never to mention that again!” You exclaim, blood rushing to your cheeks.

He blinks when you abruptly lift your head and shrugs off your concern. “I don’t remember ever agreeing to that. It was you who kept insisting to take a vow of silence on it, for whatever reason. Personally, I find it cute, you were so eager to accept my proposal then.” 

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This irksome teasing quality had reared its head alongside his other new shortcomings. The best way to deal with it, you’ve learned, is to keep the conversation going. Dwelling on it for too long never ends well.

“So, Liyue, huh?” You recall the gossip from the marketplace earlier. Some locals were fussing over the news that the Fatui’s latest Harbinger, Tartaglia, would be sent abroad for more work. There were murmurs of excitement over how a child from this seaside town managed to make it so far up the ranks. And to think they used to bemoan Ajax’s violent streak, you remember. Now that it’s beneficial to them, they sure have changed their tune.

“I wonder what it’ll be like,” he muses. “Anthon seems to think the people there eat rocks, for whatever reason.”

“Kids always say the craziest things unprompted.”

He seems agreeable to that statement. Neither of you utters another word for some time, instead thinking of both the past and the future. It’s not a comfortable position to remain seated in, yet neither you nor he complains about it. For a few brief, glorious seconds, everything almost seems normal again.

“Hey, [First].”

You hum in response. Tartaglia’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, his eyebrows knitting together in contemplation. In the silence that follows, you swear you hear a sound akin to electricity crackling, the hairs on the back of your neck standing from the drastic shift in atmosphere.

“I meant what I said. Someday, you will be by my side. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll make it happen; even if you come to hate me.”

“Because once you make a promise… you keep it.”

And he intended to do just that.

[heliads]

Some Things Have To Be Said (Part Three)

When S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Y/N L/N is called to the S.W.O.R.D. encampment outside Westview because of her history working alongside Wanda Maximoff, she’ll have to face her past with Wanda and even a confrontation with the woman she loved.

previous / masterlist

You can only stare at her. Your blood feels like it’s freezing in your veins, slowing to a stop. The world crashes to a halt around you. After a long moment, you’re able to claw up the strength to form a single word. “What?” Wanda’s gaze doesn’t break. “Who are you?” She repeats, and the question still burns just as deep the second time.

“You don’t- you don’t know me?” Wanda shakes her head, the movement slow and unflinching. “Should I?” You blink, trying to regain any sense of clarity. “Yes. No. You did, once.” Wanda’s emotionless mask flinches once, and she tilts her head slightly to the side to consider you. “I did, didn’t I?” She looks deeply into your eyes, and you have that same sense of overwhelming scrutiny that you had felt before. Wanda must be reading your mind, but there seems to be something blocking her from looking too deeply, because she looks away after barely a moment has gone by.

“L/N. Agent L/N. If you’re with the government, why don’t I feel afraid of you? Something is telling me to trust you, but I don’t know why.” You feel a bitter smile creep onto your cheeks, lips tugged up at the sides. “It’s because I loved you.” Wanda nods once. “And me? Did I feel the same way about you?” You force yourself to keep a calm face, to not break down. “I don’t know. That’s why I came, to find out.”

Wanda furrows her brow. “Y/N. Your name was Y/N.” You incline your head. “We met a while back. I don’t know why you can’t remember me.” Wanda seems about to answer you, but then you hear the sound of shouting from across the town. It sounds like the cries of two young boys, and you realize it must be Wanda’s children.

Wanda appears to have come to the same conclusion and seems drawn towards the sound, but she forces herself to turn back to you, as if held in place by some anchor tying her to you. “I have to go.” You nod once. “I know. It’s alright.” Wanda’s eyes flicker up to you, and she places her palm lightly against your cheek. It barely touches you, but the sensation of her so close to you is spellbinding. “You need to be careful. There’s a woman here, Agatha. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You let your hand come to rest against hers, contact for just a second. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Wanda nods, takes in one quiet breath. “I’ll come back, Y/N. I promise.” You try for a smile. “I know you will.” Wanda hesitates one last second, as if drinking in the sight of you, then she finally pulls her hand away and hurries off down the sidewalk to help her children.

You’re left standing there, your own hand unconsciously rising to where hers had just left you. Your fingers feel cool against your cheek. Out of nowhere, a woman appears in the middle of the street, and walks until she’s shoulder to shoulder with you, both of you watching the place where Wanda had just been. You speak first. “You must be Agatha.” The woman leers at you, and you realize she was the strange neighbour from before, the one who had known your name.

Agatha’s voice is colder now that she’s dispensed with the ‘happy neighbour’ attitude. “And you’re Agent Y/N L/N of S.H.I.E.L.D. Don’t take Wanda’s lack of memory too personally, I’m afraid that was my fault. I needed her to completely fall apart so I could take her powers, and I knew she wouldn’t crumble as easily if she knew she had someone else waiting for her who wouldn’t vanish when her little suburban dream disappeared.”

You cut a glance over to Agatha. “So you took her memories of me?” She nods, shoulders lifting in triumph. “Had to be done. I’d tell you not to worry because the memories might come back, but I’m not even sure that will happen.” Agatha claps her hands together, suddenly purposeful. “Well, I’m off to rain destruction on your little friend. Stay out of my way, sweetie, or you’ll find yourself in more trouble than you can handle.” The words, spoken so carelessly, carry a far deeper threat than the seemingly innocent words would otherwise show.

In a heartbeat, Agatha vanishes, and you’re alone on the street once more. You glance around you at the houses nearby, and realize with a dull panic that Monica was supposed to be checking out Agatha’s house to find Wanda. Surely she would have heard the voices and come out, right? When you check around, you can’t find Monica anywhere, so you decide to enter Agatha’s house and try to find your friend. If you can’t help Wanda right now, you can at least try to get Monica out of Agatha’s control.

The door to Agatha’s house is unlocked, and you can hear a vague commotion going on upstairs. When you make your way up a flight of stairs and down a hall, you pause by a door leading to a bedroom. You can hear Monica’s voice coming from inside, so you try the doorknob but find it locked. From inside the room comes the sound of someone panicking, and they seem to be begging for their life. That does it- you back up a little, then run at the door and kick it down. Monica looks up at the sound of the door splintering open, and you find that she’s not alone- there’s another boy there, who looks like the new Pietro casting on Wanda’s show.

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, I was ready to join in the fight but it doesn’t look like you’ll be needing my help. Who’s he?” Monica gives one last look to the boy on the ground. “Ralph, apparently. I think Agatha put him under mind control to make him act like he was Wanda’s twin brother. Easier to recast than bring someone back from the dead.” You shrug. “I can’t argue with that logic. You want to come to the town center? I think some big fight is going on between Wanda and Agatha.”

Monica nods, and the two of you leave Agatha’s house, heading quickly towards the center of town. Sure enough, you see Wanda and Agatha hovering in the sky, exchanging blasts of magical energy. You also see Hayward and his S.W.O.R.D. reinforcements arriving to the scene, and tap Monica on the shoulder to point them out. “You see that? He’s still gunning for Wanda even though it’s obvious she’s not the villain anymore.” Monica frowns in determination. “He’s got a bigger hand in this than he’s letting on. Are you ready to help defend Wanda and her kids?” You grin, reaching for the gun at your belt. “I thought you’d never ask.”

At last, after days of research and planning and mind control, you’re finally back in your element. As Hayward’s reinforcements pour out of their armored vehicles, you take them down one by one, moving with the methodical grace of someone who was practically born for combat. It feels so freeing to be able to finally push everything out of your mind and just take down everyone in your path. A large part of your S.H.I.E.L.D. training was combat, so it’s nice to use that familiar skill set again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hayward training a gun at Billy and Tommy, Wanda’s kids. Your eyes go wide as you realize he’s prepared to shoot, and even as you race towards him, desperate to stop this, you already know you’re arriving too late. Luckily, Monica is there just in time, and stands in front of the boys to protect them from the bullets. To your shock, Hayward still fires, but the bullets pass harmlessly through Monica and fall to the ground.

Hayward seems just as surprised as you are, and races into an armored vehicle in an attempt to ram the twins and Monica. Just as he’s flooring the gas, though, a food truck of all things hurtles into the vehicle, crashing into it in a flurry of sparks and twisting metal. You realize with a grin that it was driven by Darcy, and sigh in relief to realize that your friend is alright.

You hurry over to Monica. “Okay, I knew about the glowing eyes, but the bullet trick was new. Very cool and very dangerous.” Monica purses her lips in thought, but she looks exhilarated by her new powers. “I know about the dangerous, but I’m not so sure about the other part.” You toss her a grin. “I’ve worked with the Avengers for a while, and I’ve seen a lot of powers. Trust me, that was very cool.” Monica laughs at that. “It is, isn’t it?”

You look up to see Wanda floating out of the sky towards her children, and turn away hurriedly, distracting yourself by running checks on your weapon so that Wanda won’t see you. Monica frowns at you. “Y/N, when I got my powers I could see into Wanda’s head for a little bit. I know she loves you, and I know how you feel about her. Why are you trying to hide from her?”

You look back at the retreating figures of Wanda, Vision, and the twins. “She only has so much time left with this family, I don’t want to mar any of it with thoughts of others.” Monica follows your gaze, watching them leave. “Does it hurt to see her with them?” You sigh quietly. “Yes and no. It hurt more before, but I know that I’ll be able to be with her again once she lets them go. I want her to have as much time with them as possible.” Monica nods, and puts a hand on your shoulder in comfort. “If you need anyone, you know you’ve got me, right?” You smile back at her. “I do. Thank you, Monica.”

A woman in a black suit comes up to Monica, asking for a word in private. Monica nods, then turns back to you. Both of you know that this is goodbye, that you won’t be meeting up again today, or even for a while. Your eyes warm as you take in the sight of your friend. “I’ll see you again soon. I have no doubt of that.” Monica smiles at you. “Good luck, Y/N. I hope you can make things work with her.” You nod goodbye, then she turns and walks away, following the woman into a movie theatre. You slip away from the crowd of agents, walking briskly into the fading light.

Wanda Maximoff is striding purposefully down the streets of Westview. She’s almost on the outskirts of town when she notices the parked car waiting at the far edge. A woman is leaning up against the car, staring up at the sky, although she straightens once she notices Wanda approach. “Need a lift?” Wanda’s eyes widen as she recognizes the woman. “Y/N?” She hurries over, wraps her arms around the other woman. Although Y/N has had years of training on managing her emotions, she still freezes slightly, surprised at the sudden contact.

Then a smile appears on her face. “You remember me?” Wanda nods. “I remember everything. Agatha’s spell fell apart once I took care of her.” Y/N nods, a warm happiness glowing in her eyes. “I knew you would.” Wanda looks over at her, face falling. “Y/N, about everything, I-” Y/N holds up a hand, cutting her off. “You don’t have to explain. I know. I’m just glad that you came back.” Wanda reaches out, takes Y/N’s hand. She stares at it for a second before finding the strength to continue speaking. “I knew I would, eventually. I don’t think I could ever really leave you.” Her voice falters for a second. “I love you, Y/N. I wish I told you that before.”

Y/N’s face lights up at that, even as she struggles to keep her emotions under control. “I love you too. Always have and always will.” Wanda runs her finger over Y/N’s knuckles absentmindedly, fingers trailing over the faded scars that line her palm. “Thank you for waiting.” Y/N inclines her head at that, then gestures towards the car. “Are you ready to leave?” Wanda takes one last look at the town of Westview, then opens the door and slides into the passenger seat. Y/N crosses around the front of the car, and Wanda watches as she swings her legs over into the driver’s side chair. They lock eyes for a second, both closer than they ever have been, and then Y/N speaks at last. “So, where to?” Wanda looks back over the road before them, eyes trained not on the town behind them but the journey ahead. “Home.”

Wanda is sitting on the porch of a cabin in the woods, dressed in a simple gray. The piercing whistle of a kettle echoes through the open door, and she stands to pour herself a cup. Wanda glances at a dusty clock resting on the mantle, then gestures lazily with a free hand. A portal appears in the space next to her, scarlet sparks flying off into nothingness. A woman in a black suit walks through the portal, trading the tall buildings behind her for the quiet of the cabin. A label is stitched in white over her coat pocket: S.W.O.R.D. Director L/N. A promotion after the success of a recent job.

Wanda smiles at Y/N, handing her a cup of tea. “How was work?” Y/N takes a sip of the beverage, savoring the warmth. “Pretty good. Only a couple of new crises, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.” She gestures with her chin towards the corner of the room, where a strange energy seems to hover in the air despite nothing being there to conduct it. “Have you learned anything new?” Wanda grins, a faint aura of power tugging at her lips. “You have no idea.”

tag list: @username23345​

[ramp-it-up]

Request:

Y/N is for one year in America and try to learn the language More (she is from Germany ).

Chris saw her at target and realized that she was kind of lost and was loved to help her 👀

Okayyyy Nonnie! How's this for a challenge?

At first I didn't know how I was going to get there from here, but I cruised IG for some German inspiration. As a result, instead of Y/N, reader is named Maëlle. I also struggled with the knowledge that most Germans know more English than Americans know of any other language, but this is all in fun. 😛

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (Maëlle)

Word Count: Around 2K

Warnings: 18+, RPF, MINORS DNI, CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE, not proofread, Google Translate for the German, verry limited American knowledge of Germans and German culture, not full on Smut, but smutty thots, thoughts of oral sex, fingering, degradation kink, allusions to Dom! behavior, disregarding of stranger danger, the Red Sox, and an age gap.

Maëlle

**********************************

One of your goals when you got settled was to go to Target, Ziel when you arrived in Boston for your graduate exchange year at Boston University.

You understood a great deal of English and could speak many phrases, but you’d hoped your year in America would make you fluent.

You were proud that you were able to get from the BU Student Union to the store. You surprised yourself with the ease that you used your phone to help you translate for what you needed.

Now, you were standing in front of the doors, almost in tears, trying to find where your Uber was to pick you up.

You didn’t pay attention to which way you entered and you needed to find VanNess street. It was about to leave. You suddenly felt helpless, hilflos.

—-

Chris needed to pick up some sunscreen before the game, he couldn't afford a burn right before filming. Even though he had his Red Sox cap on, he still needed some high grade sunblock.

He hurried through the doors of the Target near Fenway Park, head down, trying not to get recognized.

He passed by some beautiful long bronze legs and followed them up a smoking hot body clothed in a scarlet Boston University t-shirt tied up tight and short blue jean skirt.

Your face was framed by waist length blonde braids and your eyes were the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

Your lips deserved ten minutes all on their own, but he kept it moving, not wanting to seem creepy.

You were gorgeous, although you looked flustered. Chris didn’t slow his roll, because you were probably waiting on someone.

When he came back through, five minutes later, he heard your voice and slowed down. He was surprised, but shouldn’t have been. There were black people all over the world.

Even in Germany.

“Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die Van Ness Street ist? Can you tell me? Where is Van Ness Street?”

Your accent was heavy, but passersby just assumed you were crazy or joking with them and ignored you.

Chris was ashamed. That wasn’t what he wanted Boston to be. Even though he was close to being late for the first pitch, he stopped for you. He summoned some German from filming in Europe.

“Kann ich Ihnen helfen?” It was one thing he knew how to say with perfect inflection.

You perked up and smiled at him. “Ach bist du Deutscher? You’re German?”

You looked into the face of the handsome stranger. His eyes. Verdammt!

Chris melted a little bit. When you smiled, you were even more beautiful. Chris smiled back at you, smitten. He laughed.

“No. Italian.”

You understood, but you were confused. Why was this handsome American saying he was Italian and speaking to you in German? And why was he so familiar?

“Oh, Ich entschuldige mich. Sorry.” You smiled again, and Chris forgot all about the game. He wanted to try to talk to you for hours.

“No worries, he said. “Bitte?”

This handsome man’s German was indeed poor. He’d fooled you. He was a good actor. Something pinged in the back of your mind, but you overlooked it. Somehow, he’d made you feel better.

“Ich habe meinen Uber vermisst. Uber, gone!” You made a motion with your hand. “Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die VanNess Street ist?”

“Ohhhh! VanNess is this way,” he pointed toward the other side of the store, and he started leading you through.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you followed him.

You neared the electronics department and there was a giant movie display with dvds. The man saw it, pulled up, stopped, grabbed your hand and quickly led you back the other way.

You were confused.

“Come to think of it, I’ll give you a ride, my car is back out this way. Druben?”

Chris was not going to ruin his afternoon and a chance to talk to you by getting caught signing autographs in Target. He loved his fans, but he already liked you.

You followed him back out of the sliding doors to the parking lot and a blank Range Rover. You just went along with him, your hand feeling at home in his.

Then the panic set in.

You didn’t know this man from Adam.

Your mother had warned you about getting kidnapped by an American serial killer. This was it. You hated it when she was right.

“Wait!”

You said it perfectly, and the man caught your anxiety.

Chris stopped as he tried to open the door for you. He looked into your worried eyes. Shit, he’d gotten carried away. He looked down to where your hands were still locked.

He couldn’t help but smile at them. You smiled, too. Then he looked at you, blue eyes looking like the sea. You smiled back, somehow knowing that you were safe. You leaned back on the car.

“I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Christopher, what is yours?”

“Maëlle.”

Your smile was brightening his entire life. He was into you.

“That’s beautiful. Das ist schön?”

You smiled wider at his compliment. Then you bit your lip. Chris' knees got weak and he took a step closer to you to regain balance.

You were in each other’s space, Chris looking down at you and you at him. You were both getting warm even though it was a cool September day.

Chris pulled your hand instinctively, and you were even closer, your fingers entwined in his close to his thigh, which you could sense flexing through his jeans.

You were staring at his lips and he was doing the same as the butterflies flew around your stomach.

Were you really considering kissing someone you’d just met in Target? What would your mother think?

That thought made you smirk.

“What are you thinking?”

He was leaning over you, his voice in a lower register now. His breath tickled your ear and made you moan slightly.

Chris wanted to know what was going on in that mind of yours, if you were as crazy as he was feeling this kind of connection so fast.

You understood exactly what he was saying, but you just cocked your head and smiled as if you didn’t. You didn’t want him to think that you were thinking of his hands all over you, in your most intimate places.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to clear his head and regain blood flow to his brain. His cock was hard being this close to you and he had to regain composure.

He wasn’t that reckless kid he used to be, but man he wanted to do some depraved things to you. Like drag his tongue up your…

He had to stop. Chris took a step back.

You watched as his tongue peeled out to lick his bottom perfect pink lip. It was strange, but you felt like you knew him. And you wanted him to know you. Intimately.

And now those perfect lips were moving, but you weren’t paying close enough attention to translate what he was saying.

“Can I give you a lift to campus?”

You cocked your head in that pretty way again. He wondered what it would be like to feel your lips. On his lips. On his tattoos, around his…

Chris cleared his throat and tried to think of the words.

“Kann ich mitnehmen?”

He was so cute. You smiled brighter and nodded, “Yes, Christopher.”

Then you gestured to your bra-less breasts in your thin t-shirt. Chris could tell your nipples were hard. He licked his lips and looked around. This was a development.

Then he got your message. He shook his head, chuckling that his thoughts were in the gutter.

“Ooooooh! Boston University! You’re on campus. Yeah, that’s right near here. I’ll take you.”

“Danke. Thanks you, Christopher.”

Your smile would be the end of him. He had to think of a creative way to get your number.

“Hey! Let’s take a picture!” He had his phone out.

You were confused, but maybe this is what Americans did to get to know each other. Take pictures with strangers.

He took a couple of pics and then opened the door for you.

You brushed past him to get in, and Chris allowed his eyes to take in your form, especially your shapely legs.

You noticed him checking you out, and immediately got goosebumps, your nipples hardening again. Your panties were a little moist.

“Let’s just get you… “

Chris reached across you for the seatbelt with his right hand, face coming near yours as he leaned into the car.

“Buckled in…”

Now you were sure your panties were soaked.

Chris allowed his mind to go places, like your pussy, which he was sure was sweet, wet, hot and…

“….Tight.”

Chris gulped, trying not to drool all over you, although he would love to spit in your mouth and make you swallow as he fucked you raw.

“Danke.”

You whispered behind a breathy moan. You wanted not only to ride in this man’s car. You wanted to ride this man in his car.

Your eyes flickered down to his jeans and that’s when Chris realized that he had a raging hard on. He quickly put his hand in his pocket, trying to play it off, flashed a smile and closed the door quickly.

You giggled at how huge what you thought you saw was. You fanned yourself while you waited for him to get in trying to remember your decorum.

Chris stood outside the back of the car for a minute, trying to catch his breath and think. He had to be at least 15 year older than you, he just met you, and you didn’t speak English. None of this made sense.

He was going to drop you off at campus and try to be at the game for the second inning. And act his age.

Christopher got back in the car, much more formal, and started driving.

He looked over to see your legs open and started to wonder how easy it would be to reach over and under your skirt, pull your panties to the side, if you were wearing any, and…

Chris cleared his throat and focused on the road.

You could tell the air had changed. He was different. You wondered what happened.

You looked at his profile and decided that he was turned off by you being so forward. You decided to straighten up, so you did so, literally and figuratively.

You sat up straight and crossed your legs, like prim and proper young ladies do.

The curve of your spine and the crossing of your legs made Chris irrationally angry. It was like you were closing yourself off to him. Then he remembered.

You didn’t know each other.

You pointed out where to go as you neared your apartment. Chris pulled up in front of your unit and you both started talking.

“Danke, Christopher.”

“Hey, Maëlle…”

You both chuckled. Chris continued.

“Let me send you that photo. What’s your number?” He was fiddling with his phone. Then handed it to you. “Type it in for me.”

You grinned wide and his sly smile answered you. Now you understood. You entered your number and handed it back to him, your fingers sparking as you touched.

You were breathless.

“Well…”

“Christopher…”

You two interrupted each other again.

This time you continued.

“Thank you.”

You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Chris closed his eyes. Your lips felt as soft as he imagined. He wanted to do the whole turn his head trick but he wasn’t 23 anymore. But you sure made him feel like it.

He did turn to look at you as you got out of the car and waved after you closed it. You swung your bag in one hand as you walked toward the building, also swinging your hips, watching him as he drove away.

Chris watched you too, as far as he could in the rearview. When you disappeared from sight, he said, “Fuck it,” did a uturn and peeled rubber back to your apartments. He rolled down the window.

“Maëlle! Maëlle!” You stopped just before you reached your door. Chris grinned at you. “You ever been to an American baseball game before?”

You skipped back down the walk happily, grinning back as you leaned in the open window. You cocked your head in that way.

“No, but I like playing wit the balls.”

Chris groaned. He couldn’t tell if you were talking about sports or something else. But he’d figure it out later. You climbed in the car, winked at him and crossed your legs.

Chris licked his lips as he drove back toward Fenway Park, thinking about how he would teach you about keeping your legs open that night.

——

Hope it’s okay Nonnie! ❤️

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[gubler-me-up]

Face It

Request: Are your request still open? I have a really smutty dom!spence idea soo spencer is facefucking the reader while she is on her knees with her hands tied too. Reader starts rubbing herself against the heel of her foot because she’s impatient and spencer notices this and punishes her. He’ll call reader names (but only if you are okay with writing degradation!)

A/N: Thanks for submitting this request, anon! Like I said before y’all be real creative with these requests I love it. Y’all have some really ~spicy~ concepts and I hope I bring them to life for you every time. Sit back, relax and enjoy dom Spence to the fullest!

Couple: Dom!Spencer/Sub Fem!reader

Category: Smut (NSFW 18+)

Content warning: Swearing, rough oral sex (male receiving), masturbating (male and female), degradation, fingering, slapping, facial

Word count: 2k

————-

Spencer sat on the bed as he watched you take off the last piece of clothing you had on. He wanted to watch you carefully as you undressed for him. He didn’t want you to touch yourself or even touch him. He just wanted to see you strip. It was enticing to say the least especially since he was still fully clothed. It felt as if you were giving him a show at a strip club after he had finished a long day at work.

He looked you up and down as you stood in front of him. He looked at both your hands which were flopped by your sides. He looked back up at you with still no expression to indicate his next move but once he reached for his tie you knew. He didn’t even have to tell you anything before you turned around.

You placed your hands behind your back and waited. You soon felt him wrap his tie around your wrists. He made sure it was tight so you wouldn’t be tempted to touch him or yourself. It could get a bit irritating when he retrained you from using your hands but when it was only the two of you in the bedroom you surrendered all control over to him.

He slipped his fingers into the gap between your wrists and his tie. He jerked you back and you stumbled backward barely keeping your balance. You could hear a soft yet dark chuckle come from him. Your breathing increased as he stood up and pressed his body against you. He grabbed your chin and jerked it to the side so he could get a good taste of your neck as he kissed it all the way up to your ear.

He roughly played with your left nipple by squeezing it in-between his index and middle finger. You let out a long moan as you tilted your head back. He hadn’t even gone full dominant on you and you were already falling into extreme submission from his touch.

“I’ve trained my whore well,” he whispered in your ear.

“Yes you have, sir,” you replied.

“You know I like my whores fucking filthy and needy for my dick,” he whispered.

“I know, sir,” you replied.

“So I’m going to face fuck you and you’re going to swallow every ounce of my cum. Do you understand, whore?” He asked.

“Yes, sir, I do,” you replied.

He removed his hand from your breast. You soon felt the sting of a slap on your ass. You silently gasped so he didn’t hear you. If you reacted too loudly to him spanking your he wouldn’t hesitate to deprive you altogether.

“Get into your whore sucking position,” he demanded.

You immediately turned around and dropped to your knees. Your eyes looked up to him but you kept your mouth straight with your mouth gaped open. His darkened eyes sent chills down your spine and made you increasingly wet. You could hear him unbuckle his pants and then the sound of them dropping to the floor.

You stared at him with anticipation in your eyes. Your mouth started to become a bit dry as it waited for his dick to enter it. You were tempted to lean forward and try to engulf him whole but again you would get punished for it. The last possible thing you wanted to do was have him leave you high and dry for the night.

He grabbed your hair and finally shoved your mouth onto his dick. He tilted his head back as he let out a relieved groan. He held your head still and slowly started to buck his hips forward. You tried your best not to gag on his dick so early but it was always hard to do considering half of it took up your mouth.

“That’s a good cock sucking whore,” he said.

He started to buck his hips faster as you tried your best to take all of him. You wanted to be the best whore he’s ever had. By the look of sheer bliss on his face you believed you were being just that for him. He looked down at you. He licked his lips as he watched you repeatedly take his cock in your mouth.

“That’s how my whore takes cock,” he said.

You moaned a ‘yes’ before he kicked up his speed. You gagged as he adjusted his speed but you soon got used to it. You let the saliva dribbling from your mouth drip onto your breasts as he continued to shove his cock to the back of your throat.

You watched him ease his head back again as he lost himself to the feeling of your mouth on his dick. You had to admit the combination of his dick ramming into your mouth and seeing him lost in his pleasure made you jealous. You wanted to experience some pleasure as well.

You watched him carefully before you made any move. Even though he had tied your hands behind your back it wasn’t going to stop you from pleasuring yourself. You continued watching him to see if he was going to lower his head. You waited for a minute to see if he made the slightest move. He didn’t.

You slowly lowered yourself down so the heel of your feet was right under your pussy. You continued to look at him to see if he was going to look down. He didn’t. You took that as your cue to pleasure yourself.

You slowly moved your pussy against your heel so you could start rubbing it. You moaned out of relief as you fell into the pleasure of finally being stimulated. You relaxed your muscles as you continued to rub yourself against your heel. You never knew you could be this desperate for touch but he left you with no choice.

As you continued you closed your eyes to imagine Spencer rubbing his fingers up and down your folds. You then imagined two of his long fingers inside of you and rubbing them against your g-spot. He was so good at making you cum that way. The pure thought of what he could do to you with just his fingers made you even wetter.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Spencer said.

He swiftly pulled you by your hair to get your mouth off his dick. You looked at him with wide eyes, breathing heavily as you completely stopped rubbing yourself on your heel. He grabbed you by your face and squeezed your jaw tightly as he stabilized your focus on him. He looked furious and you knew exactly why.

“What were you doing?” He asked again.

“Rubbing my pussy against my heel, sir,” you answered.

He slapped you on your cheek before grabbing your face again. You knew that was just the beginning of your punishment. You knew exactly the type of punishment you would get for your crime. The look in his eyes sealed your fate as he looked down at you unimpressed by your mischievous behaviour.

“You couldn’t stop being a bad whore for a second, could you?” He asked before slapping you again.

You didn’t respond. You just stared up at him speechless as you thought about the right response to say. You couldn’t think of anything that would salvage what you had already done.

“Huh?” He said.

“No, I couldn’t stop being a bad whore, sir,” you replied.

“Get up and turn the fuck around,” he demanded.

You immediately got to your feet and turned around. He untied his tie from around your wrists. He then grabbed your arm to turn you around to face him. He grabbed your face and pulled you close to him, leaving minimal space between the both of you. You held your breath as you anticipated what he was about to say next.

“I’m not going to fuck you tonight. A whore like you doesn’t deserve my dick in your pussy. I want you to finger yourself until you cum. I want you to finger yourself so hard you drop to your knees and beg for my forgiveness. Understood, whore?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” you said.

He pushed your face back. You stumbled backward but regained your balance quickly so you could start what he asked you to do. You spread your legs apart and inserted two fingers into yourself. You motioned your fingers in a “come here” movement. You could already feel your knees becoming weak.

You looked at Spencer looking at you carefully. His eyes were penetrated on the way you fingered yourself. He stepped out of his pants and pushed them aside with his foot without breaking eye contact from you fingering yourself.

“You finger yourself like a fucking saint. I want to see how a whore fingers herself for being bad,” he demanded.

You decided to switch up your rhythm by pumping your fingers in and out of you and then going back to the “come here” motion. Doing that made your knees extra weak and your pussy wetter. You looked at him stroke his dick as he watched you struggle to keep yourself up.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop either, you whore. I want you on your knees,” he said.

You had to please him. You needed to please him. You continued your pattern as you watched him jerk himself off. You started to have thoughts run by your mind again. You thought about how good a feeling it would be to have his cum dripping down your face. How he would call you a pretty whore for wearing his cum proudly on your face.

Your knees started to get even weaker and you kneeled on the floor. You could feel your orgasm creeping up on you. The tingle up and down your spine alerted you it was almost time. You watched as he walked closer to you so his dick was right in your face.

“I don’t hear your filthy whore mouth begging for forgiveness,” he said.

“P-please forgive…m-me for being a bad whore, s-sir,” you stuttered as you tried to restrain your orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

“Please forgive m-me for b-being bad, sir. I’m j-just a dirty w-whore,” you stuttered.

“Is your whore pussy worn out?” He asked.

“Y-yes,” you said.

“Don’t cum until you tell me what you’re not going to fucking do again,” he said.

“I won’t fucking do it again,” you promised.

“You won’t?” He questioned.

“No, I fucking won’t. I promise I’ll be a really good whore next time, I swear,” you said.

He smirked. “You’re desperate to cum, aren’t you?”

“Fucking yes,” you said.

“Then cum, whore,” he said.

He didn’t have to finish his sentence before your orgasm shot through your body. You let out a loud moan as you let your legs shake as it passed through your system. You closed your eyes as you took a few seconds to recollect yourself.

Before you opened your eyes you heard Spencer gasp deeply. What proceeded was the feeling of his cum on your face. You opened your eyes to look at his dick which had freshly ejaculated. You licked the remaining cum off of it like the good whore you were. You then looked up at him to see a small smile appear on his face.

“You’re such a pretty whore when you’re covered in my cum,” he complimented.

You smiled. “Does that mean you’ll fuck me next time?”

He chuckled. “If you behave next time I for sure will.”

He grabbed you by your face and leaned down to make out with you. You grabbed him by his neck to bring him deeper into it. He soon let you go however and looked at your face for a long second. He softly chuckled.

“Maybe next time won’t be so far away. I’ll get you all cleaned up and fuck you like the whore you want to be. Sound fair?” He asked.

You beamed a wide smile. “Yes. More than fair.”

He chuckled. “I love my whore.”

You smiled. “I love you too, sir.”

—–

MASTERLIST

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[fruitcoops]

I have a request. :) What if coops were watching a scary movie together and Sirius is getting actually scared so he is just trying not to watch and cuddle into Remus instead. But he is too embarrassed to ask Remus to turn it off so he just tries to suffer through it. You can decide if you want Remus to notice and turn it off and comfort him or not. Thank you for all of your amazing writing!

This is such a cute ask, and lots of fun to write! Thanks for suggesting it <3 Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Hattie is mine!

TW for mentioned blood and gore (in the movie) and general fear

“That’s a lot of blood,” Remus remarked.

Personally, Sirius thought that was a bit of an understatement considering the gorefest happening on the screen, but he had been terrified into silence twenty minutes before and simply nodded in response.

The shrieking, wailing, and rending of various body parts continued. Hattie whined and buried her nose further into the small of his back. Smart girl, Sirius thought, cuddling just slightly closer to Remus’ side. The horror movie had been a last-minute, pick something or we’ll both be frustrated decision—now, an hour into the worst television experience of his life, he regretted every choice he had made that led them to this spot.

He turned to place a kiss just below Remus’ ear. If it also served to hide his face from the literal demonic entity that just popped out of nowhere…well, that was nobody’s business but his own. “Hey, I’m kinda tired,” he mumbled, though every nerve was alight with fear and he wasn’t sure his eyelids would ever shut again.

“Oh?” Remus kept his gaze on the screen. I love you, but you confuse and terrify me.

“Mhmm. How much is left?”

Remus picked up the remote; half a second before he paused, one of the lead characters got fucking stabbed in the back by something that had not been there mere moments earlier. Sirius jolted, stifling a shout of surprise. Remus remained absolutely still. “Whew, that was a good one,” he said mildly as Sirius struggled to regain control of his stuttering heartbeat. “Just under fifty minutes left.”

Why am I doing this? Sirius wondered internally. I have nothing to prove.

“The effects are pretty impressive, huh?”

Sirius hummed vague assent.

“No CGI or anything. Pretty cool.”

“No, yeah, definitely.”

Bones weren’t supposed to do that. Kids certainly weren’t supposed to bend like that. Sirius’ mouth was drier than desert sand and he gave up on dignity, squishing himself as close as possible under the safe haven of Remus’ arm. “The, uh—” Remus was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream that froze Sirius from the inside out. He cleared his throat. “The—I heard the director has been trying to make this for ages. It was in the newspaper last week and everything.”

“Was it?” Sirius’ voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

“Uh-huh.” Please keep talking, please keep talking, please keep talking. “Sorry, I’m probably ruining this for you.”

“No, you’re all good.” You are the only thing keeping me from crawling under the blankets with the dog.

They lapsed back into silence and Sirius squeezed his eyes shut as what was left of the main group turned their backs to the basement. The creepy-ass door was going to open—yep, there’s the creak—and then they were going to go down the rickety staircase, and then everyone was either going to die or be traumatized for life. No matter how formulaic it was, Sirius still felt ice trickle down his spine.

The next forty-five minutes passed at a glacial pace. More blood than Sirius could have imagined spattered the set, and he had stopped trying to follow the plot entirely so he could zone out instead. “Ready for bed?” Remus asked as the credits rolled, sounding entirely unfazed. Hattie crawled into their laps with a soft snuffle. “Oh, lovey, were you scared?”

Yes. “Poor thing,” Sirius cooed with as much control as he could muster, lifting her up to hide his shaky arms. Remus ducked into the kitchen to put away the popcorn bowl; as soon as he was out of earshot, Sirius leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You and me both, ma petite. You’re sleeping on the bed with us tonight.”

“What?” Remus called from the kitchen.

“Oh, nothing.” He set Hattie down. “I’ll be upstairs when you’re done.”

Sirius made it to the base of the staircase, then paused. The hallway at the top was dark; fear prickled the back of his neck. There’s no such thing as demons, he told himself, grabbing the bannister. His palms were sweating. Nothing to be afraid of. “Honey?”

“Merde!” he yelped, letting go as if it had burned him.

Remus gave him a look of alarm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—” He flailed a hand around, pulse pounding in his throat. “Just thought I saw a spider. Startled me.”

“…alright.”

He turned the lights on as soon as they reached the landing. Sirius had never been so grateful for the power of modern electricity. The hall was just as they had left it, looking ridiculously normal and unthreatening—embarrassment reddened his cheeks as he changed into his pajamas. Scared of your own house? Really?

Well, that wasn’t quite true—he wasn’t scared of the house itself, just the murderous entities that may or may not be living in the dryer vents. That was all.

He was feeling better until Remus turned the lights off and slipped into bed beside him, leaning over for a ‘goodnight’ kiss. “Sleep well, baby,” he said, resting his temple on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Love you.”

The trees swaying outside looked like long, bony fingers; if he concentrated, he could hear low weeping in the wind. Sirius felt an irrational fear rise when he tried to close his eyes and focus on Remus’ slow breaths—what if he woke up and there was something in the doorway? What if he had nightmares? What if his fear wasn’t irrational at all, and there was an omen he was missing—

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

Remus hesitated, then exhaled through his nose. “Can we turn the light on?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Sirius said around a sigh of relief. “Yes. Also, please never suggest a horror movie ever again.”

“I hate them,” Remus confessed as they sat up. “I saw a commercial for The Conjuring in seventh grade and had nightmares for two full months.”

“Why did you recommend it?”

“I thought you liked them!”

“I was about to hide under the couch!” Sirius laughed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Mon dieu, that was the w—holy shit!”

The fuzzy thing under his foot made a high-pitched noise and moved; Sirius scrambled back with a strangled shout, nearly toppling them both over the other side. Remus clung to him as they both shrieked in sheer panic until the only sound was their heavy breathing. The shadow by the edge of the bed shifted again, then whined.

Sirius groaned, releasing his death grip. “Really, Hat Trick?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Viens ici.” He patted the side of the bed and the blob of inky black hopped up, then settled at the foot of the bed with an indignant huff. “Did I step on you?”

Hattie grumbled and stretched her long body across the mattress. Remus turned the bedside lamp on, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “Well, that was mortifying.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, but I don’t really want to go back downstairs.”

Remus laid on his back and held out his arms. “Cuddles?”

“You read my mind.”

They snuggled up to each other as tight as they could, leaving only a sliver of space between their bodies as Hattie warmed their feet. Sirius kissed the top of Remus’ head once before closing his eyes once more; they laid in silence for a moment longer, then let out twin sighs as he pulled the covers all the way up to their necks to create a cocoon of warmth and safety. The soft glow of the lamp chased away the shadows, and within a few minutes he fell into a dreamless sleep.

[angelyuji]

I also love Yan!Spiderman, there will never be enough content for him ! Can I request a headcannon ? Or a blurb, whatever you prefer ? I love the amnesia trope, like the reader having long-term amnesia after an accident or whatever and yan!Spiderman swooping in, saying they have been dating for months... You may get suspicious of how flustered he gets but he knows so much about you, he can't be lying, right ? 😚

17+

cw// stalking, non-consensual picture taking, kind of kidnapping, familial neglect, car accident caused by superheroes, non-consensual kissing, non-consensual touching, forced hugs, lying, manipulation, “gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss” energy, implied murder, peter being a crybaby to guilt trip you, idk peter being gross and pervy and being a liar, toxic relationship (kind of because you’re kinda not aware of the fact that he sucks and he’s lying)

· OMGBESTIE sorry i just absolutely ADORE the amnesia trope in yandere fics GHJKJHGF

· it’s just so perfect *chef’s kiss*

· anyway

· you got into accident that totally not caused by peter…yeah, it was totally definitely the criminal’s fault …

· but i mean, why were you driving in the middle of a villain attack anyway? oh, you had to go to work?...so??? peter didn’t give you the ok?????

· right, so he’s tossing cars and trying to bring justice (or something like that) and he saw you coming, but alas, he's too late

· you see something hurtling towards your car as you stop at a red light. you squint your eyes, “oh. ha, that’s a car…wait”

· peter was only a couple feet away when he sees the truck he threw slam against the hood of your car, crumpling the hood like it’s made of aluminum foil. time moves in slow motion as peter tries to reach you. out of reflex, peter shoots his webs to move you from impact. he can feel himself move, but his mind shuts down. when he regains consciousness, you’re in his arms, passed out, but seemingly unscathed. he feels relief, then fury. peter barely noticed when the paramedics came to move you out of his arms. he turns to the villain, his whole body shaking, and launches himself at the man.

· you end up in the hospital for a brain injury that left you in a coma and peter literally never left your side. he came every day and stayed by your side until visiting hours were over, and came into your room at night as spiderman after patrol.

· the hospital staff saw him so much that they assumed you were both in a relationship, so when you woke up at night during his patrol hours, they called him first.

· they called your parents after…weird, i know

· “how do you feel?”

· “fine, i guess. tired, surprisingly” you chuckle dryly and the doctor smiles.

· “fine is good. what’s the last thing you remember?”

· “…um….i can’t… I don’t-”

· “hey, it’s okay. take your time.” the doctor tries to be reassuring, but you feel panic bubble. what’s going on, why can’t you remember what happened? what’s happening to you? your breathing turns rough and the air feels thicker as you seem to remember less and less of what you should know. all of a sudden, two arms wrap around you and pull you into them.

· “it’s gonna be okay” they mumble into your hair as you cry into their shirt.

· peter and the doctor eventually figured out that you were missing 4 years of your life. the 4 years that you’ve lived in queens, to be exact.

· peter realizes exactly what he has to do when the doctor pulls him and your family aside to explain the situation

· (they had asked him who tf he was and he, in a panic to not be kicked out, said y’all were dating)

· he offers your family a way out, a way to not take the stress of taking care of you, by letting him take care of you

· “i love them. i can’t lose them and i won’t lose them, so please, let me take care of them”

· honestly, your family was lowkey relieved that peter offered to take care of you, not even remembering that you have never mentioned this man in any conversation (who has amnesia now??)

· peter would go into your room and tell you that you’re going home with him

· “what? what about my family?”

· “they’re okay with it. they have a lot going on and, as your boyfriend-”

· “boyfriend? i’ve never seen you before in my life?”

· “no! no, we started dating when you moved to queens!" at your blank stare, he lowers his head slightly and you see tears fall, "i wish you would remember”

· peter will pull out his pictures of you saying stuff like “then how do i have these pictures?? hmm????” and fake crying to make it seem like he was your grieving boyfriend

· he’ll be constantly mentioning the fact that he’s your boyfriend to you and to others (at some point, ur confused on whether he’s trying to convince you or trying to convince himself) “as your boyfriend’ “your boyfriend” “i love being with you and going on dates haha yk since im your bf”

· he’ll make up different stories from places he’s seen you. if he stalked you while you were walking at the park, he’ll say you both went on walks often. if you went on picnics by yourself often, he’ll say you constantly had picnic dates. had a fun day at the arcade? more like, you had fun day at the arcade with peter!

· peter’s smart, he uses these events as a way of tricking your brain into thinking that each memory you recover of these moments are just moments that are missing him, and eventually, he’ll start appearing in memories

· peter would take you to his apartment and absolutely REFUSE to let you leave, he’ll have an excuse ready to make sure you can’t leave your new home

· “the doctor said you shouldn’t move too much”

· he’ll make you sleep in the same bed as him, go on dates with him, hug and kiss him like “you used to do” with the excuse of “the doctor said you should do things that you used to do before the accident to start remembering everything”

· …riiight

· “are you coming to bed?” you lay in his bed, waiting for peter.

· “i-i sorry, yes, I-” peter stumbles on his words as he stands by the bed.

· you sit up in annoyance, “peter, you said we slept together. what’s wrong?”

· peter turns bright red, “no! nothing’s wrong! it’s nothing, i-i’m coming to bed in a sec.” you lay back down and soon you feel him crawl into bed. you turn your back to him, but peter pulls you closer to him and start leaving kisses down your back.

· “what are you doing.” you whisper into the darkness. his small touches feel foreign on your skin and your body itches to move in disgust.

· “i’m helping you sleep. uh-before, i helped you fall sleep like this, maybe this’ll help you remember” peter pushes his head into the crook of your neck and holds you closer, his fingers grazing under your shirt and feeling your stomach.

· you try to move away without panicking, “maybe, we’re moving too fast? i kinda need some spa-” you feel peter freeze.

· “do-do you not love me anymore?” you feel peter’s tears before you hear his sniffles, “i didn’t want to push you, but i just missed you so much and i thought that you were starting to remember how much you love me.” his sniffles turn to sobs and you start feeling guilty. you push your discomfort away and let yourself get pulled into his warmth.

· “no, it's fine. just don’t, you know, cry please.” you press your lips into a thin line and sigh as peter stops sniffling and hums in content.

· he’ll guilt you into doing what he wants with tears and sobs about how he misses “the old you”

· funny, considering the fact that this mf basically made up his entire relationship with you because he’s literally psychotic

· your relationship would be seemingly normal too, except that all of the friends that talked about how they’ve never met peter before your accident went missing…huh, definitely no connection there…

· but by the time they inform you of their concern, it is already months after your accident and peter would have already made you believe that you were dating

· in peter’s mind, you’re everything and more than he imagined, even though you barely know him, he knows you so well that it’s easy for him to make you believe that you’re together.

· peter would tell he’s spiderman once you’ve stopped resisting him to make sure that you won’t search up your accident and see that spiderman was involved

· the only way for you to break from peter’s grip on your mind is for him to accidently confess that he’s lied to you

· and that’ll happen, peter may be good at lying, but during a fight, he might let it slip

· “I TOLD YOU NOT TO TALK TO THEM.”

· “they’re my friends, peter. you can’t stop me from seeing them.” you roll your eyes when peter’s face crumples. “ugh, peter, stop with the guilt-tripping. your fake tears don’t work on me anymore.”

· peter’s face turns cold, “your friends are liars and they’ve been trying to break us up since the accident. all they say when they see me are lies.”

· you keep a straight face, “well, i know it’s a lie, so you don’t have to act like this.”

· “but-but what if you start believing them? what if you realize that you can do better than me? what if you remember everything? what if they make you break up with me? wh-” peter turns to you and sees you frozen in place. he moves towards you and pulls you into a hug, but you stay stiff.

· “what do you mean “remember”?” you whisper and peter’s eyes go wide. silence fills the room as peter says still.

· “well, shit”

-