#I sacrificed sleep for this so towards the end was VERY tired

[spaghettiposts]

Window Crashin’

WandaNat x Spidey!Reader

Summery: Crashing into the wrong window at night proves to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Warnings: Very OBLIVIOUS reader, straight up stupid I can’t lie. Gay panics all around. Fluff

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: my first time officially writing for Nat and I think I’d like to continue so expect separate fics of her sometime soon.

Kraven had become an incessant thorn in your side, his relentless rampage ever since he announced “The Grand Hunt” in the heart of Central Park felt like a never-ending nightmare. One that persistently dragged on as the weeks floated by, each day a new form of tinnitus growing in your eardrums at the echoings of his horn. Falling once again into his endless game of cat and mouse.

Or in your case Kraven and Spider–with Kraven playing predator and you, the elusive Spider, trying to lure him away from innocent civilians roaming the streets of New York. 

Which wasn’t as easy as one would imagine, but you made do with what you had, brains over brawns. Clinging onto the hope that eventually, Kraven would grow tired of chasing and resign for the night, with the promise that he’d return. And so the cycle goes on. 

There were other options you could resort to, but those were last resorts, ones you only used if you were certain you couldn’t handle Kraven or in case of an emergency. In all honesty, you’re avoiding involving the Avengers, it’s really the last thing you want this to come to. A couple of broken ribs wasn’t an Avengers level threat.

You could handle Kraven by yourself perfectly fine, and nobody got hurt at the end of the day—except mainly your sleep schedule.

And now, as you swung through the thick chilling air on route to the compound; you were struggling to stay awake, the bruises littered across your body only making it harder to keep swinging. It wasn’t that sleep had ever been your strong suit, but now, it seemed like a distant luxury. The sacrifice of a hero came in many forms, and sleep deprivation was yours. 

Tony had sacrificed half his company in pursuit of a heroic lifestyle, hell, even Steve froze himself to save humanity. If humanity needed you to suffer from fewer hours in bed, then so be it. 

You fought relentlessly to keep your eyes from drooping and it only took the honking of a truck for you to jolt awake, merely missing out on the experience of being rammed by one. 

Shaking your head, you muttered words of encouragement to yourself, living on a prayer of making it back to the compound - in one piece. 

As the familiar building came into view, you let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you swung around towards the left block and homed in on your window, only to face-plant straight into it with a resounding thud.

You groaned against the pavement, pressing your hands on the wall to steady yourself before you could slide off. Silently thanking that radioactive spider for granting you the ability to stick to surfaces as you adjusted yourself, what the fuck?

A miscalculation on your part—or at least you pictured. Pushing yourself back from the wall, your eyebrows crinkled. Huh.

You always left your window open–had one of your teammates closed it off?

Assuming one of the guys must’ve closed it off, you didn’t question much, missing your bed and running on pure exhaustion to really assess the situation seriously. Gripping the sides of the window, you tried to pry from the outside, and after a couple of difficulties; you managed to unlock it, budging it open with a click. 

Finally, home sweet home. 

Your body toppled into the room first before the rest of your body crashed onto the floor, reaching an arm to shut the window behind you. With a sigh of relief, you picked yourself up, stretching your arms above your head, eliciting a satisfying ‘pop’ from your back, feeling all the pent-up tensions of the day leave your body. 

Pressing the button on your chest, making quick work of discarding your suit. You struggled more than you’d like to admit, having to hop on one foot to wiggle your feet out of the padding. 

Amidst your squirming, you failed to notice the crimson warps seeping from your bed, freezing mid-movement as the lights flickered on by themselves, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You screeched, scrambling up to your feet, firmly clutching your uniform in a poor attempt to cover yourself from the two women on your bed, equally startled.

“Y/n…? What are you doing here?” Natasha says after a beat of silence, her eyes furrowing as she lowers her gun and the arm protectively wrapped around her girlfriend. Wanda mirrored her actions and let the red wisps fall before she turned to you disconcertingly.

You shrunk under their gaze, feeling your heart pick up. It was too late to salvage any attempts at running for it, so you turned away, ignoring how affected you felt by their disheveled appearances.

Instead, you focused on why they were inside your room in the first place. Not that you minded having two beautiful women in your bed but at this hour? 

“What are you doing in my room? I just got back, what’s…” Your voice trailed off, slipping on your suit, as you looked towards your dresser…was it always that color? And why was there a photo of Wanda and Natasha on your nightstand? Sure, you were hopelessly in love with the two but never to this extent.

Barely bordering on those lines. 

“Detka…this is our room,” Wanda said slowly, as to not startle you. 

You cursed under your breath, realizing your mistake. “Aw fuck, I must’ve crashed into the wrong—wall-side thing,” you explained messily, picking yourself up for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. 

“Crashed?” Both of the girls shouted and you winced, scooting off awkwardly to the side, feeling even more like an intrusion. 

“Yeah but it’s okay though, that’s nothing compared to Kraven's fists, trust me.” You meant to reassure them, but judging by the worried looks they exchanged, it had the opposite effect. Taking their silence as an opportunity to leave, you stepped back.

“Anyways, sorry for interrupting your night.” You mumbled apologetically, reaching for the window handle. “I’ll see y'all tomorrow— son of a bitch.” You grunted, banging your head against the glass for the second time this night. You were really starting to resent these things.  

And Wanda bit her bottom lip, “Malysh, it’s late and you’re…not doing well, why don’t you stay here tonight?” She suggested softly, her voice coming out as sweet as honey and you almost dropped dead there.

“Here?” You blurted out, feeling a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. “Like, with you and Nat?”

Natasha and Wanda shared an amused look, before nodding in unison. 

Your face crinkled, not really understanding what the looks were for but you assumed it was all in your head. Sparing one last glance at the two, you confirmed this was okay, searching for even the smallest bits of hesitancy or discomfort only to find nothing but welcoming smiles. 

With a small nod, barely audible, you murmured a hesitant “alright,” as you settled into the chair beside their bed, placing your feet on the small wooly ottoman.

Had your eyes been open, you might’ve noticed the way their faces dropped in disappointment. After months of obvious pining, not-so-subtle flirting thrown your way, you were choosing to sleep…not with them but on a chair.

A brief silence lingered, and you shifted in your seat. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel their eyes piercing and you were starting to sweat.

“Sorry,” You mumble, heat rising up your neck in embarrassment as you removed your feet off the ottoman, fearing you had overstepped. Still, their gazes remained unwavering and you rubbed your arm unsurely, “Is the chair off–limits too? I can take the floor if that’s better.”

“Dorogoy, we’re inviting you into our bed,” Natasha chuckles disbelievingly, fingers tracing the covers as to tempt you with the invitation. 

“Mhmm, yeah no. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You shook your head, stumbling over your words. “I don’t do well in confined spaces with pretty women, I mean— no wait you are, both are super pretty but that’s not—“ 

Thankfully, Wanda interjected before you could embarrass yourself further with a giggle. You swore your stomach flipped. “Cute, but won’t you get cold?” She suggested, Natasha nodding and lifting the covers, adding, “It’s much warmer over here.”

Again, you waved them off and they were starting to get fed up with your excuses. “Oh nah! My suit has thermal heating installed, pretty cool right? Tony helped me insulate it–”

“Y/n, just get in the bed.”

Before you could protest further, you felt those warm red tendrils wrap around you, coaxing you into their bed, and you couldn’t even remember why you were fighting this in the first place when their arms wrapped around you. Not when their sheets were so warm, and their bodies warmer. 

Resistance be damned, as Natasha's hand ran gently through your hair, you relaxed into it, and both girls smiled. This was how things needed to be, always. 

Still, your heart was beyond nervous to even enjoy the moment but they were pushing at your shoulders to tuck you in further, getting settled themselves. They tangled their limbs with your own and it was official; there was definitely no escaping this. 

Pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, Wanda murmured a couple of words and you felt more comfortable clothes encase you. Natasha pressed a tender kiss to the shell of your ear before bidding you a good night.

You repeat her words back and they tighten their grip, closing their eyes. 

With exhaustion finally catching up to you, your eyes drooped helplessly again, fluttering shut, bones begging for sleep, and you finally surrendered to its embrace. Allowing yourself a moment of rest with the two people you treasure most in the world. 

And suddenly, crashing into windows didn’t seem so bad after all.

[lendeah]

Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight.

Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav

Summary:

Upon reaching the Last Light Inn, your party is informed about the room arrangements: you will have to share rooms in pairs. Fate has it that you find yourself paired with a particularly charming wizard. To add a twist, there's only one bed. or Gale and Tav relive the "there was only one bed" trope.

Tags: Fluff and smut. They are so cute.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: NSFW (minors dni), thighs, frottage, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, touch starved Gale.

Note: This was going to be a prompt but it got out of hand. Anyway, a small gift for the Gale girlies (me, I am the Gale girlies). Also, not proofread and english isn't my first language, so be gentle!🫶🏻

"You will have to share rooms in pairs" Yaheira had deadpanned. After our long journey, we finally reached the Last Light Inn. We were hoping for a comfortable bed and some privacy, but our hopes were crushed.

Yaheira didn't seem fazed by our reactions, her expression remaining stoic.

"After all the blood, sweat and tears we poured into saving you lot back there this is the beautiful appreciation we get in return?" Astarion exclaimed dramatically, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Yaheira's cold stare silenced him. "Many soldiers are residing here, sacrificing their own comfort for our cause. Four of them have given up their bedchambers for your stay. You should be grateful," she reprimanded sharply.

The creaky wooden floors and musty smell hinted at the age of the building, but it was a small price to pay for a warm bed and shelter from the danger of the shadows outside. The group stood in a huddle, debating their next move. Wyll's voice rang out confidently "I propose we stay at the camp like we have been doing.".

Karlach's response was immediate and determined: "What, and die in the shadows? No, thank you."

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling about to faint from weariness. "Guys, we're all exhausted. We should just accept the offer and get some rest. We practically sleep on top of each other every other day anyway."

"Yeah, but not on the same bed." Shadowheart chimed, giving Lae'zel a sly side glance. "And how would we determine who sleeps with whom, anyway?"

Gale, the ever-practical one, interjected: "Perhaps we could employ a method of chance, such as drawing straws, in order to make a resolution?"

So that's how Gale and you end up entering the old dusty and messy bedroom from the last Light Inn. The single bed in the middle seems to be laughing at us.

Gale sighs. "I knew sharing rooms wasn't a good idea. I should just crawl under the bed." He scans the room, eyes coming to rest on the window, with the dark sky looming outside. "I could sleep out there too." He pauses. "The prospect of such a cozy rest is indeed quite alluring. The brisk gusts brushing against my face, as I gaze upwards towards the unobstructed expanse of the starry heavens. Delightful, wouldn't you agree?"

He moves to get out of the door, but you grab his arm, your voice pleading, tinged with desperation from the exhaustion. "Please, Gale, I know it's uncomfortable, but can we just please do this tonight and figure out a better plan tomorrow?"

He swallows, glancing down at your fingers wrapped around his arms. "I-I don't think you realize just how difficult it'll be for me. This bed's too small, and it's too close, and—I can't."

I look at him with my eyes narrowed "If you don't get on the bed in the next five minutes, I am going to use my maze on you. And let me tell you, it hurts"

He looks at me dumbfounded ."...You wouldn't?" You give him a pointed stare. Of course, you don't mean to hurt him, but you are too tired to fight or move for that matter.

He swallows, looking you up and down again. Then he nods and turns toward the bed. "Uh, fine. I guess I'll, uh, get on the bed. However, I cannot guarantee that any peculiar occurrences will not transpire. I mean, not that I expect anything weird to happen. Just, you know, putting it out there. Okay, I'll stop talking now."

Your roll your eyes fondly at his rambling. As Gale awkwardly settles onto the edge of the bed, you quickly change into your undergarments and crawl into the other side. The bed creaks under both of your weight, making Gale flinch. The space feels narrow, forcing you close together. There's barely an inch in between, and any movement sends you brushing up against him. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, a little toasty.

"The dimensions of this bed are rather diminutive," he whispers, staring up at the ceiling under the blanket, unable to make eye contact with you.

"Aren't you sharp" you whisper teasingly.

"It's... it's tiny! How do you expect two fully-grown individuals to successfully sleep in this thing?" He says in an exasperated whisper. It is small, though. Feels like I'm being wrapped in a blanket... Except the blanket is another person.

I sigh in exhasperation, "Gale I am trying to sleep for god's sake!"

Gale shifts uncomfortably, trying to make himself as small as possible on the narrow bed. "I apologize, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber. I just...I can't get comfortable in such confined space."

You let out another sigh, feeling a little bad for him. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, but is it possible that we exchange our positions? I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I feel like I can't relax like this. I can sleep on the edge of the bed, and you can sleep in the middle."

You look at him, one second away from grabbing your maze for real. "Gale, there is no middle, every part of this damned bed is the edge!"

Gale, is still fidgeting on his side.

"This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath.

"I know," he responds quietly. "I'm sorry." He bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling again. "It seems as though you are now stuck with me as your blanket," he says, turning his head in your direction. "I hope this arrangement does not cause any discomfort for you... I would not want to impede upon your sleep."

At that, you can’t help but smile fondly back at him "It could be worse," you remark softly. "I could be stuck with Halsin and his incessant snores."

"Halsin snores?" He blinks in genuine surprise. "I never would have guessed. Is it disruptive? Like a storm tearing through the night?"

You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't know, you sleep like a rock all night." Your words are playful, as you nudge him lightly with your elbow.

"I do not! I am an extremely light sleeper, in fact, the slightest noise can jolt me from my slumber. It's quite a remarkable feat, really." His brow furrows. "Wait, does this imply that you have observed me in my sleep?" He blurts out. He is now on his side too, both of us facing each other.

A soft chuckle escapes from your lips, banishing all thoughts of sleep. "Yeah," you remarked with a playful smile, "I must say, you look really cute when you're sleeping."

The moonlight streaming in through the window cast a gentle glow on Gale's face, making your heart swell with affection. His tousled hair and big brown eyes look even softer in this ambience.

His mouth drops open, his eyebrows now shooting up to his hairline. "I do not look cute while I sleep!"

"So cute, with your cheeks all puffed," you say, reaching out to pinch his cheek playfully.

Gale's face flushes a bright red and he turns away, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"I—I'm not cute when I sleep," he whispers." I am powerful! A talented wizard, a master of magic. I do not need to be "cute". And I'm not!" But as he protests, you can't help but notice the way his cheeks flush and how his hair sticks up in all directions, making him look endearingly disheveled. You can't resist the temptation and reach over to tickle his middle. "Cutie!"

"I am not!" he protests, giggling as you tickle him. "Stop it! You're making me... gahahaha!" His laughter bubbles out of him despite his attempts to hold it in.

You laugh too, enjoying the sound of his laughter. "See? Cute."

"I'm not cute!" he gasps out between laughs. "I'm... hahaha... I'm powerful!" He tries to sit up, but you pin him down with your hand on his chest. "You are cute, Gale. And you're adorable when you laugh," you say, looking into his eyes. He looks at you, his cheeks still flushed with laughter and embarrassment. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other before Gale clears his throat and lays on his side again.

"Gale?" I call out softly, hoping to break the silence.

"Yes...?"His voice is barely audible.

Smirking mischievously, you decide to push his buttons a little more.

"You know, I have trouble falling asleep unless I'm cuddled up next to someone." you whisper

He flinches. It takes a moment for your request to fully register, and he stares at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.

"...Are you serious? You want me to cuddle you?"

You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile playing on your lips. "Usually it would be Shadowheart offering, but she's not here right now."

"You want—me, to wrap my arms around you, to..."

His eyes narrow. "Am I hearing you right? You're asking me, to hold you?"

You roll my eyes "Yes Gale, that is usually how cuddling works."

Gale looks at you, taken aback by your request. His face flushes with embarrassment as he considers your words. "Um...I-I'm not entirely certain if that would be a prudent course of action," he stammers out, looking away from you.

"Forget it," Frustration wells up inside of you and you let out a low grunt before turning away to face the opposite side of the room.

"Er- I mean, wait, that wasn't a rejection... " He scoots closer, careful not to touch you. You turn yourself, so you are looking at him again. He looks down at you with a nervous expression. "So if I were to, hypothetically speaking, encircle my arms around your form, you wouldn't object?"

For some reason, your heart skips a beat at the thought of his arms around you.

"Well," you respond playfully. "I would probably say something along the lines of 'thank you very much Gale, goodnight'."

He hesitates for a moment before finally inching closer, his arm hovering uncertainly in the air. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge and wraps his arm around you, pulling you gently against his chest. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting him to actually cuddle you, but the warmth and comfort that radiate from him are welcome in the cold room. You nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear and inhaling the intoxicating combination of an old book's musty pages and his rich cologne, laced with a subtle hint of sweat. You wrap your arms tighter around his soft body, savoring the feeling of being held in his strong embrace.

"Thank you, Gale" you whisper, intertwining your fingers behind his back. "Goodnight."

As the exhaustion of your journey settles over you, you feel the familiar pull of sleep in your body. However, the moment is disturbed by the feeling of something hard poking your stomach. Your eyes snap open and meet Gale's, who stands there frozen with shock and embarrassment.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers out, mortified. "I didn't mean for that to happen. It's just been so long and you are so close and..."

Your bodies are still pressend, and you try to make sense of everything. Finally, you laugh softly and pat his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Gale. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." you say reassuringly, though you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"But... but I didn't mean for this to happen," he repeats, still clearly flustered.

"It's natural," you say calmly, trying to put him at ease. "It happens sometimes when people get close like this."

Gale nods slowly, still looking a little uncertain. He shifts slightly so that the bulge isn't pressing against your body as much anymore. "Thank you for understanding," he says quietly. Your heart swells with affection as you watch him; there is something endearing about his vulnerability in this moment. You have an overwhelming urge to pull him close, to shield him from any harm and take care of him.

A twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience as you watch the flush rise in his cheeks, a direct result of your teasing. You chew on your lip for a moment before an idea strikes you. "Do you... want me to lend a hand?" You offer tentatively, gazing up at him with soft eyes and a gentle tone. His big brown orbs widen in surprise at your unexpected offer. You are also taken aback by your own words, but don't take them back.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. You can see the struggle in his expression as he tries to process what you just said.

"I mean, it's completely up to you," you quickly add, not wanting to pressure him into anything. "I just thought maybe it would help alleviate some of your... discomfort."

He takes a deep breath and looks away from you, clearly embarrassed. Gale hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart races at his acceptance. You were not expecting him to actually agree to your offer, but you are weirdly glad he did. "Okay," you repeat softly, moving your hand down to his waist and pulling him closer. You slowly reach down between both your bodies, gently taking hold of his erection through his pants. Gale gasps softly as your fingers brush against him, sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his breath hitch in anticipation as you start to move your hand up and down. As you gaze up at him, his arms still holding your body, a deep stirring awakens within you. The wizard before you, with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, is more attractive than you had ever realized. His tanned skin is like velvet against your fingertips, and his long hair falls over his face in gentle waves. Each reaction to your caress, every soft moan that escapes his lips, only adds fuel to the fire growing inside of you. Looking so eager for your touch.

Without hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. To your surprise, he responds enthusiastically, his hands moving to rest on your face as he pulls you closer to him. You deepen the kiss, your heart racing at the feeling of his warm lips against yours and the subtle tickle of his beard on your cheeks. As you continue to kiss, your hands never stops the gentle strokes on his erection. Gale's moans are becoming louder and more urgent. You can feel his need growing as he grinds against your hand, seeking more friction.

"L-let me touch you" he says between ragged breaths.

You smile at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the effect you're having.

"I have a better idea," you say softly, moving your hand away from his erection. You take off your panties, and move on your side in front of him again. Gale lets out a small gasp as you straddle him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressed against your bare thighs.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice thick with both curiosity and lust.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips. "I'm going to give you something even better than my hand to relieve yourself," you purr, swaying your hips in demonstration in a slow, enticing rhythm, that elicits a delicious friction between his cock and the warm heat of your thighs and cunt.

You take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, letting him feel its softness and moaning quietly at the touch. Gale's eyes widen in surprise, gently squeezing it but with his eyes fixed on yours.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, reaching up to touch your face with his free hand.

"Thank you, so are you," you reply, leaning down to capture his lips in another tender kiss. He seems to find your praise very arousing, as his breathing quickens and he thrusts his hips upward, seeking more contact with your body. In response, you arch your back and press your chest against him, savoring the feel of his erection against your core and thighs.

"I want you so much," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I've been dreaming of this moment for so long but I never- I didn’t think-“ he gasps at a particularly good thrust.

You're not sure how to answer, so instead you keep whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "You're an amazing kisser, Gale," you say, "you touch me so good..."

He moans in your mouth, gripping your hips harder as he keeps pounding erratically. Your hands move to his hair, pulling from the strands and eliciting a small whine from his throat. You can feel the hardness of his erection brushing against your wet folds with every movement, and it sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You let out a moan into his lips as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing small circles that send sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Feeling his arousal growing even more, you know he won't last much longer, so you move your hips in a faster rhythm, grinding against his cock with more urgency.

Gale lets out a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he matches your movements. The friction between your bodies is almost unbearable, but in the most delicious way possible. As you continue to move together, your breaths growing heavier and more ragged, you can feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm building within you too. Gale seems to be close as well, as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your thighs, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. You can hear the slap of skin and the squelching sound of your now wet thighs.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

His body suddenly tenses up as he comes undone, his hips bucking wildly as he spills himself into the soft skin. For several moments, Gale lies there panting and gasping for breath.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out. "That was...amazing."

You lean and press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling at him as you do.

"I'm glad it brought you pleasure," you whisper softly, running your fingers through his hair.

Suddenly, his skilled fingers find their way back to your core. He seems to sense that you didn't reach climax with him earlier and now he's determined to make sure you do. His touch is intense as he circles and rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a moan, arching your back and grinding against his hand. He watches you with intense desire in his eyes as he continues to pleasure you.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "I am not going to be able to forget this."

His words only fuel your desire even more, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you ride the waves of pleasure, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.

"I want to make you feel good," Gale says breathlessly, kissing along your neck and collarbone. "Tell me what feels good."

You guide his hand lower, signaling for him to enter you with his fingers. He complies eagerly, sliding two fingers inside of you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot. You cry out in pleasure, your walls clenching around him. You know you are not going to last long, still sensitive from the previous ministrations.

"Thank the heavens and hells," Gale groans, looking at me like I am a work of art. Setting a steady pace with his fingers, he kisses down your chest and takes one nipple into his mouth. The combination of sensations has you teetering on the edge once again.

"I-I'm close," you manage to say between gasps.

"Come for me," Gale whispers against your skin, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements.

With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue against your hardened nipple, you come undone in a powerful climax that leaves you panting and shaking in Gale's arms. He holds onto you tightly as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks.

"That was incredible," he murmurs against your skin as he peppers kisses all over your face.

"Yes it was," you reply dreamily, still basking in the afterglow.

Gale pulls out from between your thighs and settles down next to you, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. As you press your body closer to his, you feel a subtle shift, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Instead of voicing it out loud, you turn to him and whisper,

"Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight"

[icarustypicalfall]

midnights

johnny soap mactavish x f!reader

summary: soft gazes, small talk, secrets spilled under breaths between stations, is this his idea of fun?

note: sorry for the inaccuracy, i don't speak the Scottish Gaelic, neither been to Scotland. love soap though <3

warnings: sfw, fluff, no yn just you, kinda funny, kinda awkward, litterly my mind is empty for renting.

"but i think i am falling so what can i do?"

23:30 pm

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the final train arrived at the station. Your feet throbbed from standing, though you could have sat down. Glancing back at the plastic seating which didn't appear any less unclean or discomforting.

Swiftly, you secured a seat near the front of the train, close to the conductor's cabin.

You didn't own a car, you struggled to secure employment and housing in this foreign city. Lately, your life seemed dull, and this realization hit you with great force—were these the overhyped twenties?

Escaping a toxic household was a good thing, you left your hometown, starting a new life somewhere in Scotland. Relying solely on yourself, you faced myriad challenges, working tirelessly day and night, sacrificing sleep for brief naps during college breaks. Amidst this sea of responsibilities, your social life withered away. Night shifts at the mall, traversing college hallways by day—you embraced this life fearlessly. Despite the exhaustion, you cherished every moment.

The train resumed its motion, the slow yet rapid movement causing you to stumble slightly as you made your way towards the front. This was your sole means of transportation, and you had memorized which spots were worth fighting for and which ones to avoid like the plague.

23:35 pm

As you entered the cabin, a sense of relief washed over you; it was nearly empty. Although this did not always bode well, you refrained from complaining, grateful for the chance to sit during the 45-minute journey back home.

At this ungodly hour, the train car was considered vacant. A woman, a typical "Karen" in her mid-thirties, appeared disgusted by everything, casting a disdainful glare your way. Two mumbling teenagers, an elderly homeless individual, and... a man.

This man was unlike the usual commuters you encountered on your journey home. He seemed out of place yet strangely familiar amidst the others. Wearing a military uniform and sporting a unique mohawk haircut, its ends loosely falling onto his forehead.

The man's head snapped up as you stepped onto the platform. His eyes locked with yours for a moment, his lips curling into a tired yet awkward smile. Sensing your arrival, he moved his large gym bag from the seat beside him, as if he knew you would choose him as your travel companion on the way back home.

Whispering a quiet thank you, you collapsed onto the seat while checking your bag. You were well aware of the cunningness of thieves, having once had your ice cream snatched from your very hands.

Discreetly, the man stole a glance at you, that awkward smile still lingering on his chapped lips. Neither of you knew what to say or do, and the silence hung heavily in the air. Engaging in conversation seemed tempting, yet the weight of the silence prevailed. You preferred it that way, not wanting to embarrass yourself with ill-chosen words, especially in the presence of a military man—one who happened to be rather attractive.

23:42 pm

You checked your phone, scowling slightly. Only seven minutes had elapsed? It felt as though a decade had passed while both you and the stranger coughed and fidgeted in your seats, unable to shake off the peculiar sensation in your chests.

It was warm, almost tempting. And, for the very first time, you got courageous, opting for the somewhat risky choice; you decided to sleep.

Your head felt slightly dizzy, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts as you observed the flickering light bulb in one of the train cars.

00:09 pm

"Hey... Bonnie? Wake up! We're almost there," a soft voice laced with a Scottish accent murmured into your ear, jolting your eyes open.

The man with the mohawk cut smiled at you, whispering something in Scottish Gaelic that eluded your comprehension. Still groggy from your impromptued nap, you found yourself captivated by his bright eyes, paying little attention to his words.

The man seemed to invade your personal space as he continued to babble, yet you felt no offense. It was then that you realized you had slept through the entire ride, your head carelessly resting on his shoulder.

You quickly recoiled, straightening your posture and murmuring a wave of apologies while avoiding his gaze, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The man stared at you as though you had sprouted a second head. Expecting the worst—insults or annoyed glares, as most people would respond—you were taken aback when he burst into laughter.

"No need to apologize, lass. Ya look like you've been through the wringer. Hope my shoulder was comfortable, eh?"

You nodded, slightly perplexed. Despite living in this Scottish town for two years, you had never quite grasped the local accent.

"My name is Johnny, but they call me Soap," he introduced himself.

"Soap? Like the dove bar?" you mumbled, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled and patted your head, underestimating his own strength in an endearing gesture that almost squeezed your skull. It seemed as though he was used to roughhousing with his military comrades rather than interacting with civilians.

"Quite funny, lassie. Truly... What might be your name? I haven't seen this face around before," he asked with a nod of curiosity.

The man, Soap, appeared to be either having an unmedicated ADHD case, under the influence, or simply a huge ray of grins and laughter. He acknowledged your name with a wide smile before whispering.

"Would you be interested in joining a military task, lassie?"

Your horrified expression seemed to amuse him greatly, as he continued to laugh heartily and slap his knee until the train reached its final destination.

"Just kidding, don't worry, lassie."

You nodded, rising from your seat as the doors swung open. Soap swiftly stood up, effortlessly hoisting his hefty gym bag onto his shoulder while grinning at you. He casually rested an arm on your shoulder, displaying an unexpected amount of affection and energy.

00:23 pm

Stepping out of the station, Soap let out a loud yawn, pushing his mohawk back before beaming at you. Were his cheeks blushing, or were you now hallucinating?

"Well, lassie, it's unsafe to walk alone at this hour. Mind if I accompany you home?" he asked, his shyness suddenly evident.

You smiled and nodded, appreciating the sense of security he provided. It was remarkable how at ease he made you feel, as if the two of you shared an unspoken understanding. Feeling emboldened, you intertwine your arms and began the walk home together.

Soap seemed thrilled, almost bouncing with excitement as he walked beside you, rambling on in his cheerful manner. He patted stray dogs, laughed boisterously, shared tidbits about his Captain, and even vented about a certain Phillip Graves.

You struggled to follow the intricacies of military life, but decided not to mention your confusion, content with observing how passionately he spoke about his hometown, his upcoming vacation and his family.

01:00 am

You arrived at your home, settling on the doorstep to catch your breath. Soap gazed in awe at you before plopping down beside you, accidentally jostling your feet with his bag which he tossed carelessly on the floor. He sighed, looking up at the dark sky with a contented smile.

"You know, Bonnie, this has been quite an fun night for me. It's been a while since I've met a charming lassie like you," he confessed.

A blush crept onto your cheeks as you returned his smile.

"I'd love to see you again. Perhaps I can show you around... if you'd like?" he added, restraining himself from sharing that he had developed a small crush on you, finally finding someone with whom he could share countless stories and laughter on their doorsteps.

You, too, wrestled with the fluttering feeling in your stomach gently nodded in agreement.

Soap beamed with relief, looking at you intently, his eyes sparkling.

"Can I sleep over? My mom prolly waiting for me with a flip flop at home. I forgot to tell her about breaking grandma's vase before my deployment..."

note: if there is any timeline faults or granmar, ignore it or tell me in the comments, im 2 tired to reread 🫶🏻

(this was pretty longer than the usual, kinda hate it cuz i made the reader a stone with no actions.. sorry for my soap fans next time will be better, m quite exhausted from the week 😭 gonna try to write for rudy tmr morning 💗)

[derangedanomaly]

y’all want to know more about ellie? well! here’s a bit about her :D

Ellinette is a cis woman and goes by she/her! She is nowhere NEAR straight however (shoutout to the first doodle i made of her blushing with the caption “thinking about women”). Elle is biromantic (fem leaning) asexual!

Now to personality! Ellinette was originally a timid, but caring person. A bit too caring sometimes, sacrificing her own hygiene and general self care in order to go above and beyond for others needs. She used to enjoy sewing, reading, and doodling. Ellinette had a bit of jealousy towards pets for a while, thinking things would be far easier if she could just have less capacity to think.

Now, Ellinette feels like a severely mistreated pet. Punished harshly when doing something slightly off but never being given a reward, trembling and fearing everyone around her, but having to seek comfort from the one who did it all to her. These days, Elle despises sewing and doodling. She’s a creative soul at heart, which allows Nightmare to take some of the few things she did enjoy and twist it into something that benefits him while only adding to her pile of work. We know how Nightmare loves his fashion and Elle happened to like fashion design as well, so he often instructs her to complete an intricate outfit by the end of the week on top of all her other daily tasks, not to mention complaints and calls for help from other servants. Elle would still like reading if given the chance, and on some days when Nightmare is feeling very generous (read: doesn’t want Elle to kill herself on break), he will read aloud a story to send her off to sleep. She hates to admit it’s comforting. Elle is often stressed and tired, but is NEVER snappy with others, whether for fear of what will happen or just because she understands how awful it feels she doesn’t know. Dealing with complaints or asking for her help will lead with a weary smile as she addresses the person’s concerns, then heads off to complete her own set of neverending chores. If you DO want to cheer Elle up, catch her on a break and get her a thoughtful gift or chat with her about flower language and symbolism. Either get her to relax and will lead to her devoting extra time in order to create a lovely return gift, even if you just talked with her and made it clear you care. Elle is also ULTRA touch starved and absolutely melts when others play with her hair, but she doesn’t have much time for things like that anymore. Surprisingly enough (or not), she’s always despised cleaning and cooking, but does have to do both daily and has gotten quite advanced. You can tell she admires/cares for you if she bakes/cooks you something on her own time.

- yugioh anon

More about Ellinette :>

[adelarsims]

list 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore 🖤

unsurprisingly, they'll be about Morgyn. surprisingly, Morgyn wasn't my single or even the first option, i have a few OCs and a few favorite maxis sims that i would be happy to talk about. yet here i am, talking about Morgyn. again. it will also be more than 5 because i physically can't shut up about characters that i love. okay, so

5, and then 5, and then 5 more, and then some facts about Morgyn:

Their fingertips and toes get cold easily.

They have a very controlled voice with a measured flowing rhythm, but it becomes sharper, more high-pitched and less controlled when they’re nervous. They’re able to say a very long phrase without catching their breath, especially when they want to put someone in their place.

They tug at their earring when they read and rub their temples when they’re tired.

They don't bother with cooking, and conjured food can trick your senses and satisfy your taste buds, but it doesn’t sustain your body like a real food. So they usually just eat in the dining hall of the Academia.

They’re bad at delegating things to others and have the “if you want something to be done well, do it yourself” mindset, so they often end up overworking and exhausting themselves physically, emotionally and magically.

They are very tactile. Physical contact is one of their love languages, friendship languages, acknowledgment languages... just any kind of communication. With physical contact that they give or receive, they feel like their thoughts are conveyed better or that another person is more open towards them.

They also use physical ways to soothe themselves. Like wrapping themselves in a warm blanket, or hugging their own arms, or taking a long hot bath. It always works better than just thinking things out.

Their hands don’t look as young as their face and betray the fact that they’re not in their twenties. Like that. Youth potions and spells don't work as good on hands when you don't use a wand and use your hands to channel magic. Basically, magic energy that you stream through your hands washes it off.

They would rather sacrifice sleeping time than learning time or skincare time.

They're very demanding in class, but they never withhold it when they're proud of their students. They won't excessively praise you, but by their slight smile and warmth in their eyes you will always know that you've made them proud. (this scene is a perfect reference for Morgyn as a teacher - well, except that Morgyn doesn't teach all kinds of magic, only a couple)

They rarely listen to music and much prefer just quiet.

They hate making mistakes and especially letting others know it. When they got in trouble and needed help, they opted to asking Caleb who they barely knew and didn’t yet trust back then, instead of asking other sages, because Caleb didn’t understand how big the problem was, while sages would’ve helped better but also would’ve said “that was reckless, and we told you so.”

They enjoy looking gorgeous and graceful just for themselves, even when no one else is around to see them. If you ever catch them in a wrinkled shirt and with a bedhead, eating beans right out of the can, it probably means their world is crumbling apart.

They didn't have a happy childhood.

When they imagine the concept of sacrificing themselves for the sake of saving the magic world, they think that they could endure any suffering for the greater good. In reality, they’re afraid of intense pain and have a very low pain tolerance.

They’re fast to develop a lot of feelings towards a person, but they don’t necessarily express them so fast, at least not in a serious way.

They often wear accessories even at home, they love to feel the weight and metallic touch on their neck and hands.

They always read in bed before sleep, and they wear reading glasses.

[skiesandstardust]

The end of a thousand beginnings. Newton, that jackass, was right. Time really is relative. I wonder how three years have become three centuries in my head. I don’t even recognise the person I had been when I stepped onto the first bus I took to college. The girl who found it so strange to run behind a bus, hop on, grab the nearest hand rail. The strange sensation of a wooden bench. The insurmountable excitement that dumbed down in the monotony of John sir’s voice that seemed to drone on till time became elastic and I nodded off to sleep. Awkward hellos and the mystery of the routes to classes. And now every inch of the campus unlocks a certain memory. The white and yellow flowers, in the fall, now a reminiscence pressed in my notebooks. An ocean of tears and a hurricane of laughter. Mountains of love and plains of pure hatred, both of which seemed to stretch on like a desert at the first glance, rendered into a pile of sand later on. Neither hatred nor love lasted for a cloud laden with dark rain drenched us into consciousness of the nature of people. That everyone was human and so were we. An understanding that erased our existence. Sacrificing our self to become strangers who are not so unfamiliar once we see them inside us. And then they left but only after leaving a residue engraved onto the said self. I seemed to have became a hero who saw everyone not as a separate individual but merely human, a force that flowed through bodies, transcendent and tenacious. Little did I remember that humans aren’t heroes but creatures of tragedy. And like every hero, I met my tragedy. I undid myself to the last piece of what made me who I was. Blinded myself to oblivion. Torn to pieces by my own fangs. Till I hurt not just myself but all those around me. For the human was a force that circumscribed one with the world, the overall. So when I dropped a stone in my lake, it birthed ripples in the bigger ocean. In an illusion of finding me, I lost my very soul. Ruined a million things I held so dear. I become nothing. A creature of self-induced misery who hid behind the curtains soaking in envy for others did not seem as caught and stuck. I created a cage out of a home. And then I lost everything I had taped to my heart. I emerged into the light as a person who had it all together yet seemed so tired and in the dark, I slowly skinned myself alive and set off an ecstasy of pleasure in the suffering. A being of contradictions and hypocrisy, I refused to stop till the reality of my actions caught up to me, struck me with whips that cut like glass into my flesh. I scowled and begged pointlessly. Pushed it in and zipped it off in an old trunk up in the attic. Pointlessly. It shattered the lock and like a balloon in water, restlessly burst out in the open, burning neon and demanded not to be ignored. Carefully, very carefully I unveiled it. It came strong, intense with the pent up pressure. Crushed my bones and splintered them into powder. Yet I was human. A mere pawn in the game of life. And like Icarus, who had burnt his wings to ashes, I dropped into the sea, flesh rotting. Although darkness consumes the horizon and my sight at times, I see the faint rays of light peeking through. I intend to swim towards the surface. But also to drown into the endless depths. A creature of contradictions all the same. Murky waters sloshing by unlit roads only to be followed by a white stupor burning my eyeballs. A being of folly and wit. Capable enough of recognising the binary of existence. Now I take that powder and mould it to clay and a semblance of a body. Only to be slain at the hands of time and to be reborn in its womb. I may not know where I am and what I am, at the same time. Schrödinger, also a jackass, proves himself right not in the mere dimensions of space and time but existence and emotion as well. But I am here now. So I will begin another thousand endings.

[edelvonhresvelg]

Mmh. Random. I'm bad with prompt but I always thought as a lot of people already said, Bayleth confronting Edelgard about Jeralt, maybe after the war, maybe after the timeskip, or maybe after giving her the ring. Like, Edelgard I want to marry you, the ring was my father's.. do you miss him?/I do/ And Bayleth still adjusting to the beating heart, trying to sort out her feeling and asking Edelgard about it. (Because Monica did speak a lot with Edl). ...This is not a prompt, neither a light thing*

*to write, but I’d like to see how you imagine it went..! (If you want to write it..!)

okay! okay okay okay. this is something I have thought about a lot. pre-timeskip. post-timeskip. sooo many different possibilities of how, where, and when this unfolded. so what follows is just one of those possibilities.

this is pre-timeskip, as I recently played through this cutscene in my replay of CF and, with this prompt idea already in my head, it just clicked. 

potentially may eventually write out other alternate scenarios, and/or a post-timeskip around Byleth presenting El with the ring as you also suggested (which is another thing I think about a lot) but in the meantime, enjoy!

oh also this one turned out kiiinda long so a chunk of it is below a cut. turns out I just can’t help myself sometimes. ^^;

- - - - - - - - - -

Byleth stood, unmoving, staring at the wall in the little private space she had found in the provisional camp. In truth, she didn’t even see the wall – too lost in her own thoughts, replaying over and over in her mind the recent events that had led her and the Black Eagles to the Imperial camp. 

Footsteps approached from behind, which she heard faintly; though it wasn’t until words broke through the silence that the Professor was pulled from her thoughts.

“Professor, may I speak with you?” 

Byleth turned to see Edelgard, a concerned frown on the young woman’s features, and gave a slight nod. “Of course.” It was only inevitable they would need to talk, and they had yet to do so since their arrival at the camp — and what would be said had of course played out in the Professor’s mind.

The emperor’s gaze lowered. “I appreciate it. I…”

A short silence followed. In those pretend conversations which had played out in her mind, Byleth had imagined herself speaking fiercely, sharply, as she sought answers for the questions plaguing her thoughts – though quickly, any such feelings evaporated at seeing just how concerned the young woman was, and she nudged gently: “What’s wrong?”

Edelgard, gaze still averted, let out a small sign. “I’m just…anxious. It feels like the weight of this burden is crushing me. At this very moment, on my orders, I’m starting a war. An army far larger than the one that attacked the Holy Tomb last month will soon be locked in battle. Long-devised strategies are unfolding across Fódlan. Leaders are deciding their loyalties and preparing to fight…” The emperor shifted on her feet, still not quite meeting Byleth’s gaze – yet it was clear the words were a weight on Edelgard’s mind, and Byleth found herself happy to take some of that weight simply by listening. “So many generals and soldiers will die. It’s inevitable that civilians will get caught up in the chaos as well. There will be countless casualties. With a single command, the flames of war will rage across all corners of this realm. And I am the one who is giving the order.”

The emperor’s words hung in the air. In the silence that followed, her words from the Holy Tomb echoed in Byleth’s mind: “I’m sorry, my teacher. I cut this path, and now I must follow it.” 

“This is the path you chose, isn’t it?”

The words escaped the Professor a little more abruptly than she had intended, and she noticed when a slight hardness entered Edelgard’s eyes in response.

“Yes, it is.” Edelgard had straightened, and was then meeting Byleth’s gaze. “There is no turning back. No matter how much blood flows at my feet, I will not relent. We must break the bonds that the depraved church has placed on Fódlan. These sacrifices will allow us to create a future where we never need sacrifice again. It may seem contradictory, but it’s the only way.”

A nervous laugh escaped Edelgard, then; the hardness fading from her eyes, as she lifted a gloved hand to brush a strand of hair to the side. “Listen to me. I made up my mind long ago. Yet here I am, seeking your approval. Tell me the truth, my teacher. Are you happy with your decision to stay by my side?” She paused, then; as though afraid to continue with the words already on the tip of her tongue. Yet not afraid of the words themselves; only of the possible response. “Unlike me, you can still walk away from all this. This path leads to the death of the archbishop and the servants of the church. Can you live with that?”

It was a question Byleth had, in part, been contemplating – if not trying to justify to herself. It all came back to Edelgard. Byleth had been fond of the young woman from the start, there was no denying; equally, she had been suspicious of Rhea and the church.

Despite all the greyness in-between, when the archbishop had given the order for Edelgard’s execution, Byleth had felt no hesitation. It was impossible for her to imagine standing against Edelgard – let alone killing her – and a part of her had already decided that Edelgard’s path would be her own.

“I chose this path too.” It was an abrupt truth, even if there were still questions that Byleth needed to have answers to.

Surprised at the Professor’s words, Edelgard faltered. “I never thought… I’m sorry. It was a foolish question. I—” 

“But before I continue walking this path,” Byleth, on some level, felt bad for interrupting the young woman – who had went from surprise to dread, the colour in her face faded, “I have to ask you something, and I need you to answer.”

There was fear in Edelgard’s gaze, and it took a moment before she was able to give a trembling nod. “Of course, Professor.” In the seconds that followed, it became harder for her to hold her teacher’s gaze.

“Jeralt.” Byleth felt as though her throat tightened as she spoke the name, voice barely more than a whisper. Of all the imaginary conversations she’d had with Edelgard in her head, she never imagined it being quite so difficult; nor had she imagined Edelgard suddenly looking so sad. “You and Monica…Kronya…whoever she was… I saw you. A lot. You were always together, talking, and…”

Goddess, it was a lot harder than she had ever imagined. No matter how hard she tried to summon it, the sharpness she had heard in her mind’s voice never materialised – and it couldn’t so long as she looked into those lilac eyes, sadness and fear swimming within.

So Byleth looked away.

“Did you know what she was planning?” There it was: an edge. Not a question, a demand. It could be nothing less, because she needed to know. “Did you know she was going to kill Jeralt?”

“Of course not,” Edelgard rushed, voice slightly more raised than normal, brows pulled together. “Professor, I swear, I—”

“Would you have stopped her?” Turning her head, Byleth looked back at Edelgard. “If you had known, would you have stopped her?”

“I would’ve done all I could.” Another abrupt response, as it was Edelgard’s turn to avert her gaze, her left hand balled into a fist as she tried to keep control of her composure. “I never wanted any harm to come to you or the rest of the Black Eagles, and I did everything I could to keep you out of harm’s way. Please, my teacher…” The emperor’s voice faltered, her thoughts getting in the way – she knew this moment would decide whether her Professor continued on her path, or did indeed walk away, and Edelgard feared she had already lost her dearest ally.

“As for Kronya… I knew what they had planned so far as the experiments with the students and the Crest Stones, but I wanted no part in such things and I would have tried to stop them if I could have.” Against her better judgement, Edelgard lifted her gaze to meet Byleth’s once more. “You have my word.” 

Byleth swallowed, feeling any fight leave her at the sight of those lilac eyes glossed over with unshed tears. Tears that she doubted would ever be shed, if only because she’d never seen the young woman cry before and simply couldn’t imagine the sight.

Edelgard continued without prompt, even after she had seen the softening of her teacher’s gaze. “I never knew she would hurt Jeralt. It was never a certainty he would be there, and I thought once we prevailed against the beasts…it would be over… I swear…” The emperor’s gaze dropped again, and Byleth made a move to step forward, only halted as the words continued – Edelgard’s voice suddenly quieter. “I may not have known him that well, personally, but he was your father. If I’d have known… If I could’ve done anything…” Words failed her, and she looked down at the ground; she knew she could speak no more without losing her composure.

What else was there she could say, anyway? It was true she had associated with Kronya. Schemed, some would even call it. Byleth had seen them. It was only natural for the Professor to draw her own conclusions, her own opinions. 

Suddenly, there was a hand on her shoulder; firm, but not too firm as to not also be gentle in a way. Looking up to see Byleth so close was unexpected, though not as much as the faint smile that seemed to be on the Professor’s lips. So faint that Edelgard blinked twice to ensure it wasn’t a trick of her eyes, and was sure the Professor was only attempting a smile for her own benefit. Or to say farewell.

“I believe you.”

Lips parted, but no words escaped the emperor as she simply stared at the Professor. Byleth lifted her other hand and placed it on Edelgard’s other shoulder, for a moment contemplating whether anything more – a hug perhaps? – would be appropriate or even accepted. Quickly, she settled just on holding the young woman’s shoulders.

“I believe you,” she said again, not only on seeing how dumbfounded Edelgard looked but also on still seeing traces of her earlier fear and sorrow. “I’m sorry. I just… I needed to know before I walked any further down this path with you. There was never a good time to ask.” She squeezed the young woman’s shoulders. “I never meant to frighten or upset you, really. Please, forgive me.”

At that, Edelgard actually laughed – lightly, weakly; but laughed all the same. A gloved hand lifted to her forehead, partially covering her eyes as she shook her head. “You have nothing to apologise for, my teacher. At least…it’s done now.” 

Moments passed, and they simply stood together: Edelgard’s hand eventually falling back down to her side, while Byleth’s remained on the young woman’s shoulders. Eventually, they fell away, too. Some sense of normality returned to the air between them.

“So, Professor,” Edelgard broke the silence hesitantly, and continued with a quiet voice, “do you still choose this path?”

Byleth really did offer a small smile at those words and, without hesitation, nodded. “I chose this path,” she said again. “I chose you, Edelgard. From this moment on, your path is my path.”

A tinge of pink entered the emperor’s cheeks then, and it took her a moment before she was able to return the nod. As she spoke again, her voice had returned – and she was unable to hide her revived happiness from her tone. “I believe in you, Professor. And you believed in me. With that knowledge, I have the strength to keep fighting.” With that, Edelgard managed a smile of her own, and was content to let the moment linger on before, finally, remembering the rest of their current and impending situation. “Let’s go… There’s something I need to say to Hubert.” 

[zivazivc]

Pinocchio AU

Okay people want the explanation for this comic so here it goes. It’s long and complicated and MESSED UP because of course it is, this is me. I’m going to write in points because my small tired brain can’t handle good english atm but basically to sum up the Adrien was a sentimonster theory or Pinocchio AU as I like to call it:

Young married Emilie and Gabriel can’t have kids. Gabriel reluctantly accepts this fate and even brings up adoption as a possibility once, but Emilie doesn’t want to hear any of that. She’s a bit of a Marinette in the sense that she pictures this romanticized ideal life for herself and a child—her flesh and blood—HAS to be in it.

They keep trying to get a baby while other young families Emilie knows keep growing. She feels left out and hurt and depressed, then her newlywed twin sister announces she’s expecting a baby too and something within Emilie just unhinges.

She eventually lies to some of her friends, who she was out for coffee with, that she’s pregnant too. She mostly does it just to see their reaction and feel what it would be like but it quickly spirals out of control where she just starts pretending she’s pregnant until you can’t even tell if she believes it herself.

Gabriel is confused at first because he hears the news second hand (a friend/family member congratulating him) so he’s apprehensive when he approaches his wife but she convinces him that they really are getting a baby and Gabriel is ecstatic.

It’s only later at a doctor’s check up that Gabriel learns that she indeed is not pregnant. The doctor even speaks to him alone explaining that his wife is in denial and that he should make sure she goes to see a psychiatrist, something she definitely wouldn’t do alone.

Gabriel is unsuccessful with that because he’s not entirely persistent, doesn’t want to be the guy with the crazy wife having to tell everyone she lied about being pregnant, and hopelessly believes she’ll just get over it eventually.

That is until her “pregnancy is near due”—her sister already had Félix in England a few months ago—and he stumbles on her transformed with her peacock miraculous (they already have both of them) creating a sentimonster newborn.

They have a huge fight about it but because Emilie refuses to destroy it, won’t tell Gabriel where the amok is, and Gabriel can’t just hurt the baby with his hands, Emilie just… wins. Fucked up, yeah?

Now she tried creating kids before this one, using her imagination to try and blend her and Gabriel’s looks but it just wasn’t working. So she decided to copy of photos of baby Félix because he already looked almost like a copy of his mother, and Amélie and Emilie already looked alike so it’s not so weird?—is what her mind was telling her.

She didn’t dare alter his looks but she decided to give the baby Gabriel’s eye color to include the “father” in some way. (Yes in that comic I made I gave Adrien a mix of green and gray but that was mainly to get the point across to the perceptive readers)

Now we got Adrien, a normal baby boy to the whole world except for Gabriel who’s forced into his wife’s fantasy through social expectations.

Why are we only at this point and this post is already so long AAAAAAAA!!!

Adrien physically basically grows in a way where Emilie just keeps changing his appearance to match what Félix looked like a few months prior.

Mentally he’s like a robot just taking in information without really needing to learn it. So Emilie decides when he says his first word, she decides when he learns to walk,… He knows how to walk, he just wasn’t given the command to do so yet.

But even so he does develop a personality over time, just slower, because unlike a normal child who’s always testing his boundaries, how far they’re allowed to go until they’re in real trouble, Adrien just can’t misbehave. At all.

But he does have his favorite foods and favorite toys, and jokes that make him laugh the most. The problem is just that Emilie could just decide that his favorite food is strawberries and he’d just start acting accordingly, rewiring his belief. 

He also isn’t allowed to argue or be mean to others which is why Félix thinks he’s a goody two-shoes weirdo while Chloé the brat adores him.

This behavior isn’t so hard to hide with a toddler who’s fickle but it’s harder and harder as the kid grows. Which is why the family becomes very secluded over time.

Gabriel always keeps distance with his “son”. He’s not Dad, he’s Father, he doesn’t do hugs and cuddles, he doesn’t say I love you. But Adrien knows he loves him because his mom told him so and he loves him back unconditionally because Mom said that’s what families do.

Now even though Gabriel is traumatized by this whole ordeal and knowing Adrien “isn’t real” freaks him out he does soften a bit over time. I’m going to give an awful example but like someone who hates cats softening for a cat that their partner/roommate decided to get/had from before. Continuing with this example: But still becoming appalled when the cat starts acting odd/unusually.

Okay I think you get the gist. Let’s move on…

Emilie loves her son more and more as he grows and his sentimonster behaviours start bothering her more and more too. She hates being reminded that he’s not a real boy by people mentioning he looks young for his age because Emilie forgot to make him grow for a while. She hates when he does everything like he’s told. She hates that he has no real friends because they’re afraid to expose him to the outside too much and without supervision. She hates to think about his future.

Her desire for him to be real keeps growing and is what drives her to search for a solution in the miraculous spellbook.

She cracks the script after years, when Adrien is nearly a teen, and finds a way to transfer the creators soul into a sentimonster.

It’s a long process that takes time and while she falls ill to everyone around her, Adrien becomes more real.

Gabriel starts realizing what’s happening when he notices Adrien hesitate for a second when he’s playing a video game and Gabriel wants him to do something, groan when he gets bothered watching TV, huff, complain, have slightly opposing opinions to his and Emilie’s, when he argues with his mother when she tells him she’s feeling fine; when he notices his son’s eyes are greener. Or is it all in his head?

He confronts his wife too late, when she’s extremely ill already, her normally vibrant eyes dulled match Adrien’s bluish gray, and he pieces together in his head what she’s doing.

Before Gabriel could properly think what to do to stop the love of his life from turning into a lifeless doll, in a fit of panic he tries to take her wedding band (where he knows Adrien’s amok is) to get rid of Adrien instead, but is unsuccessful in getting it off her so he snatches her peacock brooch instead (which she needs to complete the spell obvs) and breaks it. (Heyoo! broken peacock miraculous. things are coming together)

Because the spell was almost complete anyway it’s Emilie who falls unconscious. But she doesn’t disappear because she’s not a real sentimonster, she just becomes dormant like one.

This is the point in the story where Gabriel makes it seem like Emilie ran away or something like that—basically disappear. Now he’s living knowing he has an almost sentimonster wife in the basement, knowing he almost killed his son (or her), and having to care for a son that suddenly became much more alive, questioning, arguing, angry, screaming, not accepting, crying, grieving, staring at him with Emilie’s eyes.

Instead of becoming a real parent, Gabriel shuts him out.

Soon Adrien evolves desires for socializing, company, getting away from the suffocating home which eventually leads to him going to a public school.

He slowly starts to live life freely without the restrictions that were put around his thoughts.

Gabriel has an even stranger relationship with Adrien now because he still loves him in a way but also holds resentment toward him. But mostly he sees him as something valuable.

The show happens here…  And now finally we get to the comic…

Gabriel gets a hold of the ladybug and black cat miraculouses. (There’s no epic fight in his lair as you see there’s no Ladybug in the comic but that’s not really important)

What’s important is that Gabriel had deciphered the miraculous spellbook with the help of Emilie’s notes and had decided to use the unification’s “wish” power to awaken Emilie.

He’s aware he’ll need to sacrifice something for the wish to come true and he’s certain Adrien should be enough because the soul inside him is literally the one thing Emilie is missing.

✨Adrien (poor boy just lost his miraculous) is taken to Gabriel’s lair, where he finds out his father is Hawk Moth, sees his mother, learns he’s a sentimonster, and that he’s going to become a sacrifice ✨

Of course the last part is not what happens. It’s Gabriel who ends up being sacrificed.

I can’t decide if Gabriel ends up sacrificing himself because he changed his mind in the last moment while Adrien was screaming for him to stop, OR  because he didn’t love Adrien enough for him to be considered an equal exchange for his wife… O.O

But anyhow…

Emilie wakes up with Gabriel’s soul within her (hence the bluish gray eyes in the comic).

Adrien is traumatized for life.

This took me hours to write… I knew there was a reason why I didn’t want to do it. I hope I didn’t forget anything and my brain made sense of it all

Well there you have it, peeps. The Pinocchio AU. It’s as messed up as my sleep schedule. Good night. 

[annmarcus63]

Previous here

Next here

Hi! This is the next part of my last soulmates au, hope you like it, I'm sorry for my bad grammar.

The thing is that the subject doesn't come out again, for his part Geralt understands and respects Jaskier's feelings towards the mark, and for Jaskier’s part he's hurt and so very lost as to bring it up again. Does he tell Geralt that the colourful mark on his skin belongs to him? or does he let things as they are? The truth is that he's a coward, has always been a coward in the face of soulmates, destiny and Geralt. But now all that fear and anxiety that he has dealt with for the last few decades has turned into regret. So, Geralt and he act as if the soulmark discussion has never happen, as if they haven't hurt each other with the things that were left unsaid. Until Yennefer arrives at Kaer Morhen on afternoon unannounced. If you could see Geralt's face, so full of longing and contentment while Jaskier's standing by the door looking like a walking dead.

Geralt kisses her under the chandelier on the main hall and Jaskier flees to his room faking being tired, and no one stop him. At night he can hear Geralt and Yennefer making love thru the wall, why did he choose to sleep next to Geralt? He lays awake knowing he has, at least, until the next afternoon to decide what to do.

"I knew all along that you were an idiot, but I never took you for the self-sacrificing type" says Yennefer by the doorway the next afternoon.

"Then you don't know me at all, Yen. Lovely dress, it looks like a fat rats’ vomit" Yennefer smirks but doesn't follow up the banter like she always does, instead she walks to him with predator footsteps, a small kitten that is. And the next thing he knows is that she's hugging him, a reflection of all those years ago at Oxenfurt.

"I won't do it" whisper Yennefer and Jaskier wants to cry but instead he lets all the love he feels for her, deep deep inside, to relieve him. "Do it" reply Jaskier and Yennefer pushes him back, suddenly furious, a stormcloud trap in a dusty library. "DO YOU WANT TO DIE?" Jaskier tries frantically to shush her "OH, I SHOULD KILL YOU MYSELF IF YOU SO WANT THAT"

And Jaskier starts to laugh which ends up calming the sorceress who adds "He will never forgive himself" which makes Jaskier stop laughing. He steps in front of her with a defeated air, remembering the situation, remembering the pain that has grown in his chest and the unshed tears he has saved to water his insides even though his exterior is withered. He'll sheed them, but not today, not with Yen. "I know" he says

"You must do something" she doesn't say you need to tell him, but Jaskier hears it anyway, he has heard it on the last hours. "I know" he grabs her wrists affectionately "I know" he repeats begging her to understand and she nods.

"I don't want him Jaskier. Not if it kills you"

“He wants you, Yen”

"He shouldn't. We shouldn't." You didn't have a choice, Jaskier wants to tell her, but it's pointless. Even before the Djinn's wish, destiny have brought them together, Geralt loved Yenn instantly. Something that not even he, the witcher’s soulmate, could achieve. And that's the hardest part, to acknowledge and respect that your soulmate happiness isn't by your side, but at least you get to see it. Geralt is happy here every winter at Kaer Morhen with Ciri, his brothers and oftentimes Yennefer.

"When?"

"Tomorrow night" good, he has enough time to think what to do or what to say. He still has time. "Do the right thing Jaskier or I'll do it" she threatens him and now is Jaskier's turn to nod even when he knows she wouldn't, it's forbidden to intrude on the bond between two people, it's forbidden to reveal someone who their soulmate is. But he'll not underestimate her. He knows what he must do, even if it causes him to lose Geralt. At the end,the witcher has never been his, not even destiny could give him that. He's not worthy of Geralt's love, if he was worthy, truly worthy, the witcher would never have fallen in love with another person. But after all Geralt's given him, the least he owns him is the truth, even if it makes him lose everything.

Tomorrow night he'll die, in a way.

This is it. Next time Jaskier's decision ¡Stay tune!

[yandere-sins]

Could I request a yandere vampire viewing humans to be nothing more than food, only to find their Darling stand out amongst the many mortals they’ve consumed over the years?Instead of draining their Darling prey dry in a few weeks like usual, the vampire decides to keep their Darling - to savor, to play with, and cherish in its own way - much to Darling’s dismay at seeing no end or escape in sight. Bonus points if the vamp bite can be pleasurable or painful, depending on the vamp’s mood, and can be used as a reward or punishment as needed. Double bonus for nsfw bits if you’re feeling up to it

I just felt like writing about bitemarks, make of that what you want. Thanks for requesting!

»»———————— ♡ ————————«« 

You winced as they put the weight of their arms on top of yours, tangling their fingers with yours. With your arms stretched out by long, silk fabric and suspended in the air on either side, you had crumbled to the ground, exhausted, drained, spent. Only making you more vulnerable than you already were. You looked up into the mirror before you and at yourself, your eyes lidded from getting no sleep ever since you arrived, and your body missing its energy, skin sunken in as if you were sick.

The vampire let out a satisfied groan, watching you through the reflection in the mirror. Of course, you couldn’t see them in return. You just felt them. You felt their breath against your cheek, the weight of their body as they leaned on you and your feeble condition, and the itching pain from the bite marks that were all over you.

When you were chosen as a sacrifice, you naturally felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. Unlike the many sacrifices you had witnessed over the years, you tried to put on a brave smile, help with the preparations, and even changed your diet. All so that the last few hours of your life would be meaningful. But in reality, you were horrified. Scared and unwilling to die. Creatures like the vampires should be flogged and not appeased with sacrifices they could eat. You weren’t cattle! You were a living, breathing human! However, now that you spent days with them, you realized that it was absolutely impossible to be anything other than a blood donor.

Over and over, their fingertips tapped on the marks they left behind from their teeth. Some started bruising, hurting under their touch. Others were still oozing crimson blood after being torn open. Your life had become much worse than that of cattle. You wouldn’t die as quickly as a cow or goat. You had to endure until you either were killed out of boredom or drained dry to the vampire’s pleasure.

“Tears ruin the taste,” they scolded you, indifferent to the feeling of helplessness and fear you were experiencing. Instinctively, like the people-pleaser you were, you tried to wipe them away, but your hands were still suspended in midair, hanging from the walls on either side of you. If only you could have had a bit of dignity, maybe dying wouldn’t have been so bad. But they restrained you like the sacrifice you were, making you look at yourself in the mirror as they tortured you.

You didn’t even want to think about what they’d do to your body after you died.

Long, cold fingers wrapped around your throat, the mild strangulation uncomfortable yet able to make you focus on it instead of everything else. Deep breaths, the villagers said. Whenever the vampire touches you, take deep breaths to keep calm. Struggling was futile anyway, and you are a sacrifice, not a wild animal. The villagers told you that as if you should be proud of your position, but how in the world could you be proud of what you had become?

One hand wandered upwards to your face, the fingers slim like spider legs, but you couldn’t help but notice that they had begun to warm up, and you assumed that was thanks to your blood. They crept up on you until you had to fear their long nails were going to pluck out your eye. Squeezing them both close tightly, you hoped to at least not experience that horror, only feeling how one of the fingers brushed by your eyelashes, wiping away the tears for you.

Blinking a few times, the hand disappeared, and you heard a very disappointed sounding, “Salty...” from behind you. Twisting your head to look back over your shoulder, you were met with the bright crimson eyes that drilled into yours, their hand slowly lowering from their mouth after they had a taste of your tears and an unsatisfied expression on their face.

“Told you it ruins the taste,” they shrugged, elegantly gesturing that they didn’t care for your tears, and you almost felt inclined to apologize.

“Please...” you muttered, finding that your mouth was terribly dry.

“Hm?” they perked up, having forgotten how your voice sounded after days of silently accepting your fate.

“Please end it,” you pleaded, close to tears again. “I-I’m ready. I don’t care what happens, but I can’t live like this anymore. Please, have mercy!”

You were tired. So, so tired. You wanted to sleep or eat. Go back to your family and see your friends again. But knowing that would never happen, if you at least could die, then you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

Instead, fingers wrapped around your chin, their presence suddenly in front of you. Forcing your head back, you were stared at from above, just two red orbs enveloped in darkness, and it was hard to maintain eye contact with them more than ever. “Who do you think you are? Thinking you can make demands?”

“N-No,” you pressed forth through the pain of your jaw crushing under their grip and your bruises ripping open from the strain. “I’d never dare!”

“Good.” Instantly, the vampire’s mood seemed to change back to the usual indifference, and they kneeled down before you. Their right hand brushed down your neck and along your shoulder, getting covered in the red color of your blood before they brought it to their lips, licking it off their knuckles. “I gave you these for a reason. They are a perfect imprint from me on you, so no one will dare to feed off my property. And I’m not done with you yet.”

Speechless, you wanted to say something, but the situation was simply overwhelming. Why would they want to mark you? Why was it important who you belonged to? You were just a sacrificed ready to be consumed.

A flinch escaped you as they leaned forward, and you were expecting another burning bite, but instead, lips pecked at the bite wounds tenderly, one after the other. Again and again, until the kisses became fervent, tongue lapping out, sucking at your skin. It stung and burned, and you had to bite your lip tightly as to not let out a sound. Your body grew hot and felt like it was pulling at your open skin; it was almost too much.

Until you suddenly felt hot breath against your lips, opening your eyes alarmed. With an eager tongue, the vampire tasted from the blood on your mouth before parting your lips, breaths and tongues mingling. You expected to taste your own blood, but it tasted sweeter than you could have ever dreamed about. Sweet, enticing, and hot, that’s what the kiss felt like, even though your body was struggling with the pain and the hand on your throat cutting off more air than you could take in. And yet, as if magically pushed towards the vampire, you only leaned in more, tried to get more of the sweet pleasure of their tongue. Just as surprising as it came, it ended, and you were left gasping as the vampire pulled away.

“Better?” they asked, and through your fogged brain, you weren’t sure you understood. “Don’t ever ask to die again. Remember, you are mine forever.”

With them standing up, you got a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again, and you blinked a few times at the image before you. All over your left shoulder, there was no mark left, and your skin had puffed up again, eyes wide open and awake. The vampire disappeared behind you again, but you quickly felt their arms wrap around your torso, a feeling you knew well by now. “If you’re truly that miserable, tell me. I wouldn’t know. I don’t understand you humans. But know that my help comes at a price.”

Finally, you were able to puzzle together your thoughts. The healthy feeling you had, together with your body looking perfectly fine, must be the vampire’s doing. They must have used some kind of magic or trick on you, but having exhausted themselves by doing that, that probably meant...

Their fangs protruding from their mouth, they dragged them along your supple skin, searching for the best spot to bite down. Fleshy, warm, and soft. Where the blood would spurt out from the slightest irritation. Clenching your teeth, you couldn’t help but try to fight their tight embrace, tried to get out before it was too late. But your struggles were futile, only pressing you up into their fangs until you felt them sink into you inch by inch.

Your ears buzzing and your heart racing as you were fed from, you only shut your eyes tightly, holding back the gasps and moans, not wanting anyone to think this was actually enjoyable. But the sweet taste on your tongue remained, as well as the feeling of their lips against yours, making you wonder what they meant when they claimed you for ‘forever’.

[buckys-black-dress]

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

-

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

-

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

-

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

-

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

-

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

-

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

-

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

-

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

[shroomi1e]

at peace with you (xiao x gn!reader)

summary: Xiao has never felt so at peace yet also at war with himself at the same time, your embrace bringing him the very peace that he fights for.

cw: descriptive pain, blood, death, angst

a/n: here have some tissues, you might need them😍🧻i was literally crying and throwing up and shitting bricks as i wrote this😋

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ────────────── · ·

Xiao is fated to die.

He’s come to accept it over time, and other than protecting Liyue, he has nothing to live for, not even himself. Xiao spends eternity fighting demons, sacrificing his own peace so that others may lead a peaceful life. He has never seen a single day without turmoil and pain, his karmic debt gnawing at his flesh and pulling him apart bit by bit.

But not when he’s around you.

Xiao has never felt so at peace yet also at war with himself at the same time. Your voice lulls the lurking demons around him to sleep and brings him back to himself, your gentle hands grasping his blood-stained ones and pulling him out of the dark bindings of his consciousness.

But to stay with you would be selfish. No matter how dearly he wants to hold you in his arms, Xiao has no choice but to push you away. He’s afraid that once you fall into his embrace, he may never be able to ever let you go. He’ll only get attached and end up hurting you anyways. You’re better off without him.

And even so, your soft voice and feathery touches are simply too tempting for him. He can’t help but indulge himself in you every once in a while, cradling your head in his hand as he rests his face against your shoulder, only to leave once more.

“You must be tired, hm?” After hearing his silence, you only let out a chuckle and stroke his hair soothingly. “I’ll lend you my shoulder if you ever need some shut-eye. Feel free to rest with me anytime.”

It was never enough for Xiao. He often dreams of holding you for an eternity, visions of you replacing the ghouls and nightmares that once plagued his mind. Whenever he holds you, he’s at peace, though he always has to leave you before he can ever utter the three words to let you know how he truly feels.

He often wishes you could rest on his shoulder as you let him rest on yours. To hear your sweet voice call out his name and pull him into an embrace... simply would be too good to be true.

As Xiao is patrolling the beaches of Guyun Stone Forest, he notices the many shells and starconches littered in the sand. He never noticed it until now, since he didn’t have much leisurely time.

He kneels down and picks one up, remembering the many tales he overheard from the people of Liyue Harbor.

“Secret messages?” he mutters to himself. “How foolish. There’s no way mortals actually believe in these sorts of things.”

In contrast to his words, he holds up the shell to his ear and closes his eyes. Behind the hollow winds, he can faintly make out your voice as well as your laughter. Xiao takes it off his ear. Perhaps he’s only hearing what he wants to hear.

“This is ridiculous,” he mumbles as he places the starconch in his pocket.

Xiao sees you like a gentle bird, flying away if you were too scared but getting hurt if held too tightly. Xiao wants nothing more than to protect you and keep you safe, which is exactly why he has to stay away from you as much as possible. It hurts, almost fatally, but it’s all for your sake. Only the heavens know what his karmic debt could do to you.

He ultimately decides to stay away from you for the time being. You don’t deserve to be burdened by him. He’s determined to get through this alone. He’s survived his karmic debt for thousands of years, surely he can live without you, right?

As his visits become less frequent, the demons that haunt his mind pounce on him once more, clawing at his skin and whispering curses into his ears. Xiao is hunched over in pain, his throat tight and his head pounding as he stumbles towards the Wangshuu Inn. He can’t quite remember what happens next except your hands holding him and dragging him upstairs, nestling his body against yours as you whispered reassurances into his ears.

His breathing is haggard and rapid, his fingers gripping your shirt so tightly that they might’ve ripped. He’s begging under his breath for the pain to stop, for the voices to stop plaguing his mind. When he finally begins to calm down, he notices that your body is shaking, eyes teary with worry.

Xiao remains silent, holding you as close as possible instead, knowing very well that it might be the last time he ever does. After a short slumber, he leaves the bed, staring at your face for a few moments, tracing your features with his eyes just in case he forgets. Xiao brings his hand to cup your face and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb before reluctantly tearing his hand away, leaving for good.

“Here.” Xiao held out his hand to you, holding a starconch.

“Hm?”

“I heard that starconches contain voices of people, and were used in order to send messages. I was not able to hear anything, unfortunately. But as long as I can hear your voice, I don’t really care. I have no use for it, so... take it.”

You took the starconch from his hand, holding it up to your ear. “Hmm, perhaps you could put a message in it for me. That way I’ll be able to hear your voice whenever I want to!”

“Hmph. You don’t need to resort to such childish ways just to hear my voice. You know I’ll come to you in a heartbeat if you ever call out my name.”

Weeks and months pass by, and Xiao’s pain is only worsening. The demons are eating at his flesh more and more, and the voices only grow louder, his head throbbing as he can feel himself become more and more consumed by his karmic debt every day. Not a day goes by where he doesn’t crave your embrace and your touch to ease his pain, or for your voice to put him into a peaceful sleep. But he just can’t.

It’s especially worse this one time. Xiao’s polearm is off to the side as the young yaksha trembles on the ground, covered in a cold sheen of sweat. A large gash covers his stomach, the blood bleeding through his white shirt, the remainder of his body covered in scratches and scars. A dark mist surrounds him, torturing his conscience and eating away at his mind. He’s starting to feel lightheaded, his muscles slowly becoming numb from the pain. His arms eventually give in, leaving him laying on the ground, his body limp.

Xiao’s vision is dimming, but he uses whatever strength he has left to get to you. In a blink of an eye, he’s at the Wangshuu Inn, where you quietly sit on your bed as you drink tea. Drops of blood are staining the rug as he limps over to you, but it’s no matter. As you notice the state he's in, he hears your cup shatter against the floor as you dash over to his side.

He can barely hear what you’re saying, but Xiao can tell you’re panicking, your voice quaky as you bring his face into the nape of your neck, stroking his head as you whisper something repeatedly into his ears. It seems quite familiar to the last time you’ve seen him, his head resting on your shoulder as you scramble together a way to make everything okay.

Initially, he believed that nothing could be worse than the pain he’s in right now, that is until he hears your quiet sobs, your tears staining his shoulder. Xiao feels as though he’s slowly crumbling apart as your tears fall down your cheeks. To make you cry was the last thing he wanted to do and yet here you are, sobbing as you hold him for the last time.

You attempt to let go of him to go seek help, but Xiao stops you by grabbing your wrist, gripping it tightly despite the burning pain in his limbs, urging you to stay. Through his ragged breathing, he barely musters out a few words.

“Stay... for a bit...”

You reluctantly obey, wiping your tears with your sleeves. You lift Xiao’s body to hold him in your arms, hoping that he can at least be at peace for his last few moments. As he’s sitting down, his arms are limp around your waist, his head resting against your shoulder.

“I’ll lend you my shoulder if you ever need some shut-eye. Feel free to rest with me anytime.”

Perhaps Xiao would come to rest with you one last time and finally take the long nap that he had been wishing for. He raises his arm weakly to gently wipe your tears, not minding that his gloves are stained with blood.

“Please, don’t cry.” Xiao’s breathing begins to shallow as he cups your face with his hand. “Just... let me get some... shut-eye.”

He breathes his final breath, his eyelids falling heavily as he goes limp in your arms.

You feel Xiao’s body rest completely against yours, his arm falling from your face and back to his side. His body turns cold, your tears falling onto his face as you cradle his head in your hands, holding onto him tighter than ever before. Despite your sorrow, his eyes are closed, a sense of peace on his face. After battling so hard for the peace of the people, Xiao can finally get the peace that he deserves.

A part of him is sorry. Sorry that he couldn’t be there for you all the time, sorry that he wasn’t kinder to you, and sorry that he couldn’t give you everything he truly wanted to. But Xiao now knows you’ll always be safe, safe from him. The yaksha doesn’t wish for you to cry for him anymore; he wishes for you a life of peace, one that he could never have.

Sometimes, you can still hear his voice contained in the starconch, delicate whispers and sweet words filling your ears. You hope that you’ll be able to see him again one day, perhaps in Celestia. Something is reassuring about his death, now that you know he’s finally at peace.

And maybe when you see him again, he’ll be even more at peace, at peace with you.

[pen-observing]

Aaa could i Request nr13 with Kaeya :0 and perhaps with a Y/N who isn't used to others offering to take care of them, might even feel awkward/flustered.

Would love to read how you'd write this, and take plenty of care!💙

Every single time I finish one of these requests I am embarrassed for how long it actually took me to do so - I apologise and I hope that this Kaeya fluff makes up for that!

kaeya + "If you take care of everyone, who takes care of you?" word count: 0.8k

when you think back on what childhood stories teach at their core, you often think about care. caring for someone, healing them, helping and being able to do so usually makes the main characters what they are. the kindness and smiles they extend mean saving, the gentle hands that cradle and hold mean civilisations that do not perish.  

yes, there are many more lessons people can take but for one reason or another – you took this one. take care of people, be kind and never make lives harder for those that do not deserve it.   if you can help, you should.  

so that is what you do.  

when jean has too much on her plate, you sneakily find ways to help her as much as possible. yes, you do have your own tasks but if just an hour less of sleep for you means that jean will finally get some rest, well, why shouldn’t you do just that?  

when lisa decides it is time to dust off all the shelves in the library you always found comfort in, why shouldn’t you extend a helping hand? if your own obligations are holding you back with mountains of paper work, then you make sure to regularly bring her tea that she can enjoy. when warmth spreads on her fingertips as she takes the cup the smile she extends is thanks enough.

if you can help, you should.

yes, you should! so, if venturing into dragonspine just to bring albedo one of his old notebooks on a weekend means visiting him and helping him make progress in research of most importance – you will do just that.  

you make sure that any of this does not mean missing deadlines and inconveniencing the very people you are helping. perhaps picking up the small signs of their exhaustion was a natural talent? you remember things about those you love and care for even if they do not explicitly state them. kindness is as such.  

but your eyes are not the only ones who pick up on that. your heart is not the only one that remembers things. while you are looking towards your friends – kaeya is looking at you.   in fact, he is looking out for you as well.  

do you not find it surprising that somehow whenever you want specific tea leaves for lisa they are there? what about when you enter albedo’s study and the old notebook you have to take sits somewhere on the very top of a pile? he himself never asks anything of you.

kaeya is glad that you find all of these things as a lucky coincidence on your part. but, he is not glad how above and beyond you go sometimes.  

like, right now.   kaeya knows that you just came back from dragonspine because sucrose had to carry more materials than usual and you offered to help without being asked to. it was not an emergency and sucrose could have done it herself. yet, you were determined to accompany her. in the process, because you are not used to temperatures that low since your visits are occasional, you ended up freezing.   and what did you do after that? instead of going home to warm up next to the fireplace and under a comfortable blanket; you decided to head back to your study and finish the few papers that remained on your desk.  

kaeya also knows that your study is on the second floor, across from albedo’s, and that the room, because of its position, can never be warmed up the way you need it right now.  

while he is walking up the stairs with a blue blanket in his hands, he also remembers you sacrificed an hour of sleep for jean and came to work this morning tired red eyes that give it away. when he opens the door, kaeya finds you hunched over the desk and smiles. it looks like you fell asleep after finishing the last paper.   he walks over slowly and places the blanket over you. you really should sleep somewhere else but, in the moment, this is fine.  

as he looks at you one final time before closing the door he whispers, more to himself than you: “really, if you take care of everyone, who takes care of you?”  

the next day, your footsteps march into his office with his blanket neatly folded and a bottle of dandelion wine. you extend your thanks and kaeya already knows you will try to ‘repay’ him even when he asks for nothing.

he shrugs his shoulders and decides that a pout would do more trick than a sly smirk: “and here i was thinking that i could play the role of a mysterious hero. only for you to quickly realise it was me. really, couldn’t you have played along more?”

both kaeya and you know that you have issues with accepting kindness. extending it comes way easily.   take care of people, be kind and never make lives harder for those that do not deserve it.   if you can help, you should.

that is why kaeya never explicitly states what he is planning to do. you might not accept it. this way, you cannot reject his kindness and he manages to take care of you in his own ways. and that is enough. 

a/n: soft kaeya is rarely on my mind but UFHSKHDL

masterlist

[cheekygreenty]

Hi, I just saw your prompt list for Shadow&Bone!! could you possibly do No. 2 from Angst, but like with a happy ending? Like reader n Kirigan are togeather but then Alina's comes along.. just, please let be happy at the end. I like angst, but my heart can't handle sad endings 😢😢 thank you!!! ❤❤

Future- The Darkling x Reader

(Very very angsty with a happy (?) ending. It made me cry a lil bit writing it ngl)

You trusted him, wholeheartedly. At least that's what you told yourself every day since she came to the Little Palace; the place you had always called home, where you felt safe from the prying eyes of the public.

Yet now, the place was fueled by harsh rumors of him and her. Everywhere you went you could hear a whisper, nobody tried to hide it anymore, the words were always entirely devoted to your crumbling union;

'I thought they were happy'

We were.

'How can he and Alina not be together, it's destiny.'

I'm starting to think so too.

You didn't acknowledge it. Just put on a sweet smile and a brave face. Don't let them see you're hurting. Even in your own home, you had to pretend and lie, which at the end of the day, when you laid in an empty bed, made you exhausted.

He told you she meant nothing more to him than a mere weapon. But that was when she first came and when he still managed to make it to your shared chambers and would whisper sweet nothings as you fell asleep.

It was different now, on more than one occasion you caught a glimpse of them together, him looking at her the way he always looked at you. However much he claimed to be a good actor and manipulator, there was something there and he couldn't deny it either.

You hadn't confronted him about it yet fearing that if you did, the truth would hurt and sting and make all those rumors true. In addition, you haven't seen him in days and the last time you did, he told you to stay away from the wonderful Sun-Summoner.

The truth was you knew deep down in your heart that she wasn't at fault. That she was not the root of the problem. You constantly fought with yourself to stop any hatred you felt towards her. She was lovely, kind compassionate, and innocent. She didn't deserve to feel your wrath.

But with that came the confusion of who to blame. You or Him. It made you tired and weak. The smallest of tasks made you drained and tears would well in your eyes at the thought of having to live another day like this, a day full of questioning yourself and the man you loved more than anything in the world.

No matter how much of a strong person you swore you were, this was taking a substantial toll on you. He had become your support network and he knew it, he loved it. He always said he finally felt appreciated when you came around, that he wasn't alone anymore. He had conditioned you to be this way. When times got tough, he was always your shoulder to cry on.

No doubt that shoulder was now next to Alina. Perhaps they went on a horse ride, visited the Black Heretic fountain, or were enjoying a rendezvous next to the lake.

You didn't want to know, all that mattered was that he wasn't there with you when you were falling apart. Maybe you relied on him too much.

You wondered if he noticed the whispers too, or the way you'd been missing crucial meetings, or even if he noticed you wearing your red kefta more often, ditching the black once you'd heard Genya speak of making a golden-black kefta for Alina, per the Darkling's request.

That was a punch in the gut. It hurt more than him avoiding conversation with you or even his deterrence of touching you. He had bestowed his colors to her when not even three months ago he didn't know she existed. It had taken you a long time to gain his trust and don his signature black yet all she had to do was waltz in and show up. And it hurt.

And now here you were, training the next generation of heartrenderers, as you did almost every day. You had given your life to the Little Palace and its Grisha and this is how you were being repaid. Not even Ivan, who you had shaped into an excellent soldier, had looked your way lately.

'Excuse me Ms. Y/L/N I have an urgent request from the General' You whipped your head around to the young Grisha boy with an obviously hurt look on your face which he couldn't understand.

'Of course' you choked out and took the piece of paper from his hands and watched him in sorrow as he left.

Ms.Y/L/N? what happened to moya sovereignny? You were never one to uphold the formality, but this was just another blow to your confidence. You were no longer referred to as his other half which only meant your position in the palace was quickly dwindling.

You opened the wax-sealed envelope and took out the thick sheet of paper. There was a time when he himself would deliver the news to you himself and use it as an excuse to spend extra time with you.

'I cannot make it to the meeting with the King this evening, attend and report back to me anything relevant, no horse business'

You scoffed loudly, drawing attention from the young Corporalki around you and leaned on the table in front of you. Not even a please or thank you. With the note clutched in your hand and tears of frustration in your eyes, you stormed out of the Corporalki room and towards his war room.

You peeked through the open door and seen him. He didn't look at all busy as he chatted with Zoya, Ivan, Fedyor, and some other Squaller you didn't recognize. Zoya threw her head back in laughter at something Fedyor said but Aleksander kept his stony expression. You threw the door open dramatically and everyone froze.

'Leave us' you cautioned as Aleksander's onyx eyes looked right into your own.

Nobody moved but Zoya was the first to speak ' Y/N, we're actually in a meeting if you couldn't tell' while everyone nodded along, except him.

You never had anything against anyone in that room, but in that moment you couldn't help yourself and used your small science to bring everyone to their knees in front of you, except him.

'Leave us' His voice rang out in the midst of their sharp breaths and chest-clutching. They scrambled to their feet and left one by one, Fedyor quietly muttering 'moya sovereignny' as he passed you which filled you with some courage. The door shut and the sound echoed over the walls.

You threw the note across the room and let it hit his arm. 'Did you forget your manners General? Or does it only apply to the people you claim to love?'

'Funny you should say that Y/N, you haven't attended any meetings in weeks without providing a reason. You're making me look like a fool'

'I'M MAKING YOU LOOK LIKE A FOOL?!' Your tears were now streaming down your face, falling quicker than you could wipe them away.

He stayed silent and that broke your heart even more, he could've said something, anything.

'Aleksander, I'm trying to keep myself together for everyone, I'm trying so very hard to appear normal and happy but I don't think I can do this any longer. The whispers and the rumors, watching you and her-' You slid down the door and sat on the floor, head resting on your knees. '-It's getting to me.... and it's killing me.'

You thanked the Saints you didn't see his face, for the silence spoke for itself. He didn't deny anything or reach out to comfort you. I've lost him.

'All I wanted was a happy ending.' You laughed a sad laugh that pulled at his heartstrings. With your eyes still facing away from him, you didn't see his hand go up to wipe the lone tear that fell down his face or the slight shake in his hands as he did so. He had no words that would comfort you. He knew what he'd done. He'd been avoiding you ever since he realized it. He didn't want to see you cry or see how his actions affected you.

Telling you that it means nothing to him was of no use. You had it in your mind now, forever engrained around his name, the rumors wouldn't stop and Alina was still around. He truly felt nothing of importance for her. All she meant for him was a key to a better future with you.

He approached you slowly, getting down on his knees next to you. He took your hand in his and held it up to his lips. He never prayed, but right now he silently muttered words to all the Saints. Don't let her leave.

'I'm so sorry Darling. Y/N I love you so much.'

'But you love her more' You yanked your hands away.

'NO. no. Y/N. I swear it. You are everything to me' He had grown serious now, he wanted you to look at him. He missed you.

'Then explain why you're parading her around like a Queen, letting her wear your colors, probably sleeping in her bed'

'I have never toucher her in that way. I'm yours Y/N.' Please look at me.

You lifted your head and looked at his beautiful face. He too looked tired, exhausted. His eyes were red and puffy. Saints, I've never seen him cry.

'You will have a happy ending. I promise Darling' He took your face into his hands and connected your foreheads together. 'I promise. I'm doing everything I can to make sure you will, and even if I can't, I swear you will you and our children-'

Children. Aleksander never spoke of them to the point where you had settled with the idea you'll never have them. Something about the desperation in his voice made you believe him, Aleksander was strong, he never gave up but he also never sacrificed himself for anybody. Up until now, you didn't think yourself worthy enough to be saved in exchange for him.

'-I would give up everything to see you and them safe, away from harm's way. Right now, the world doesn't deserve them, but once I do what I have to do, I'll give you children. However many you want, Just stay. Please'

You were borderline hysterical as you melted into his embrace. Weeks of frustration and hurt disappeared into thin air. Aleksander held you so tight you were having trouble breathing but you didn't care. He held you all day and all night. All meetings and tasks forgotten.

He explained everything in detail, from the stag and firebird to what happens if things don't go to plan. He kept nothing from you, not even the stress and pressure he felt. You comforted him as he always does to you. You fell asleep together and dreamed of a life with a happy ending, one where you never had to doubt his motives, you dreamed of your future.

Taglist (if you want to be added, plz tell me!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld

@0-artemis

[thirsty4villains]

Bound | A Loki x Reader fic

Rating: E

Warnings: Eventual smut, human sacrifice, torture, blood and injury, violence, angst

Tags: sharing a bed, slow burn, eventual romance, fix-it, canon divergence of Avengers Infinity War/Endgame, humor, limited use of Y/N, action and adventure

Consider joining my Patreon where all fics are posted earlier than anywhere else and you can make fic requests!ヽ(•‿•)ノ

Summary:

A year has passed since the Snap. As you look to find a fresh start in life, you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. A small cult dedicated to the newly revitalized Norse religion chooses you as a sacrifice with the belief that this will give Thor and the other gods the strength to undo what Thanos has done. What you don’t know is that human sacrifices come with a powerful magic — those who are sacrificed become linked with the god they have been given to. It’s been a millennia since a human was sacrificed to one of the gods. You’ve been bound to Loki.

CHAPTER 15

The trip back to Valhalla was mostly quiet

Freya landed the ship on the same field that you and the others were kidnapped from.

Outside, Odin, Freya, and everyone else was there to greet you and the rest of the captured upon return. The Allfather clapped his warriors on their backs and they embraced their friends and family.

"Freya! You're alright!" Frigga said. "You're hurt."

She winced upon Freya’s embrace, but returned the hug. "Yes, they tortured me a few times,"

"Tortured!" the Allmother gasped.

"But we killed them, and I am OK. If I could, I would like to rest here for a bit before returning to my realm. I am… exceptionally tired."

"Of course, Freya. You know these halls, take any room you like."

Freya nodded, said a quick greeting to Odin, and strode toward the palace.

Loki helped you down the ramp of the ship. Your dehydration and exhaustion were so severe that your legs felt light and wobbly under you.

His mother strode up to you both, taking you and Loki in her arms.

"I knew you would find the way," she whispered to her son. "I am elated to see you both back here in one piece." She hugged you both so closely and for so long that you were unsure if she would release you.

"I don't feel like I'm in one piece. But yes, it was a close call," you said.

Odin approached the three of you. "Your mother told me what you did. That was very intuitive, my son."

"It wasn't too risky, father? You actually approve?"

"I'm telling you well done, Loki,"

"Thank you, father, now if you'll excuse us…" Loki shifted, allowing most of your weight to be transferred to him, and he led you back to the palace of Valhalla.

~~~

You awoke in his room, the one with the large scarlet bed. It was such a contrast to the pale skin and green cloth of Loki.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. You didn’t even remember the walk here. Rubbing your eyes, you still felt exhausted, dehydrated, and sore, but considerably better than your condition on the ship. You took a drink of water from a glass on the night stand beside you. The cool liquid refreshed your dry throat.

As you came to your senses, you noticed Loki sleeping on the couch in front of the fireplace, his head resting on the back cushions, facing you, with his arms cradling his chin like how a dog might sleep. He must have been watching you until he inevitably succumbed to sleep himself. However, he was a light sleeper, as the god’s eyes fluttered open upon the clink of you setting the glass back down.

He rubbed his eye. “I fell asleep.”

“You deserve to. You did a lot today.”

“The day before yesterday.”

“The day before..? I was out for that long?”

“Yes, there were several times I checked to make sure you still had breath. And no, I don’t deserve to sleep. I allowed them to take you.”

There was a flutter in your chest momentarily at how worried Loki was for you.

“Loki, your father was right. You saved all of us on that ship.”

“Perhaps,” he said curtly.

“Ugh,” you scoffed. You couldn’t find the energy in you right now to argue whether he was a hero or not.

"Why are you all the way over there?” You asked. “This is a huge bed, you could have slept next to me instead of that couch."

"You seem to always get flustered when I'm around you so closely, like when we shared the sleeping bag. So, I was respecting your modesty."

Heat ran up your cheeks.

He continued, "However, at the moment I feel… very protective of you. The couch is closer to the door than the bed and that way I may hear anyone approaching the door. I have permitted no one to enter aside from my mother to administer healing."

You removed the blankets and swung your legs over the side of the bed. With bare feet, you walked on the lush carpet toward the god brooding on the couch. You placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Loki, I'm safe now. I don't think your father, Freya, or anyone else is going to harm me."

"Unlikely, however, we can't know for sure if that's the last we will see of those fire giants. If more were to come back, perhaps shapeshift into a Viking, or my father…"

"Loki, you're not making sense."

He shook his head. "No, you're being naive. If even the afterlife isn't safe, nowhere is, and you are a fragile thing."

"Loki Odinson, you are acting as if you did lose me, as if I died. I didn't die, I'm right here. You seem as if you're in grief!"

Loki grasped the sides of your arms. "Because I did lose you. You did not die but you were dying, I felt our bond grow weaker and I felt you growing weaker."

"But now I'm strong again. I'm alive thanks to you." You moved in closer, nestling your head in his chest. "I'm right here."

Loki wrapped his long arms around you, holding you securely against him. He stroked your hair a few times, before pulling you away in order to see your face.

"Mortal maid, what dark magic you've cast upon me."

For the first time in days, your bond felt the way you knew it to feel when you were in physical contact with the god of mischief. That tug toward him that was weak a few days ago was full-force now. And you welcomed it because it meant security, it meant familiarity, it meant affection. It meant…

Well, it was powerful magic after all. It wanted to make you feel like these things. It wanted to make him feel like these things. It had a purpose.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t have to like it.

You finally spoke: "I don't think I've cast anything that you haven't taught me.”

The god pressed his lips to the top of your head and kept you in his embrace for such a long time that you were unsure he would ever let you go.

~~~

You were only conscious for a few more hours, enough to eat, bathe, and change your clothes, but then you went to sleep again. Your body was still healing. Before taking your rest you were finally able to convince Loki to sleep in the bed next to you. The bed had plenty of room and you felt bad that he kept sleeping on the couch.

The next morning the two of you awoke to a knock on the door. Before you could even finish rubbing your eyes, Loki had cracked it open. It was barely open an inch as he questioned the visitor.

You were about to ask who it was when the god invited his father into the room. By now you had seen the Allfather a handful of times, however, his presence was no less commanding or intimidating than the first. He held himself the way a ruler should, and he was undoubtedly the king of Asgard.

So when he entered the room and you had nothing but a blanket and some pajamas covering you along with a head of unbrushed hair, you felt a little sheepish.

“Good morning, um, Your Majesty.”

And Odin did something you didn’t expect. He smiled.

“It is customary to call me ‘Allfather’ rather than ‘majesty,’ but you, child, may call me Odin.”

“Oh! Okay. Well, good morning, Odin.”

The Allfather bowed his head. “Good morning,” he responded. “I feel you have earned to address me so informally because I must thank you, both of you, for saving my warriors and of course the goddess Freya.”

“Thank you, All - I mean, Odin,” you corrected yourself. “And of course! I would have done whatever I could to help.”

“It is good to see the both of you are on the mend.” He turned to his son. “How are your injuries, Loki?”

“Fine now, especially thanks to mother’s aid,” the god said.

You envied Loki’s ability to recover from injuries so quickly. He had taken quite a beating on the fire giant ship but just two days later he moved as he did on any given day. Meanwhile, your ass was still recovering from its whooping.

“While I am glad to know the two of you are well, I have also come to deliver a message.”

Loki quirked an eyebrow. “A message?”

“From atop the mountain, from Idunn,” Odin said.

You felt your heart stop – and you were fairly sure you heard Loki’s do so too. You sat up, and the two of you allowed Odin to continue.

“It is a short message, but all she relayed to me is that she would like to convene with you today.”

Odin bowed, and when no one said anything more, he took his leave. He shut the door behind him.

You let out the breath you’d been holding. “Loki, do you think she’s going to give you the apples?”

“I cannot imagine any other reason why she would call on us, but I also will not keep my hopes up. I could barely control my anger the last time she rejected my request.”

~~

Atop the mountain again, after the snow and clouds cleared away, you and Loki were greeted by the sunny, small paradise that held a grove of a hundred different trees and fruits, but in the very center and most prominently was the tree of golden apples. And crouched underneath it was Idunn.

Upon your arrival, the goddess set down the pair of shears she had been using to prune branches off the tree. She stood up, and despite having just been kneeling in the dirt - her dress remained perfectly pristine white.

“Loki and… I am so sorry to have forgotten your name, child.”

You recited your name back to the goddess. Idunn repeated it back to herself. “I also apologize for referring to you as Loki’s mistress. That was unkind of me.”

“Thank you,” you said.

Idunn then turned to Loki. “I would not have expected such valor and selflessness from you when you decided to stop and turn around that fire giant ship. These centuries certainly have changed you.”

Loki crossed his arms. “Oh please, I wasn’t as bad as you make me out to be.”

Idunn’s eyes expressed both irritation and amusement.

“To the matter at hand,” she clasped her hands together. “I don’t summon people up to my garden very often. In fact, I have done it perhaps less than a dozen times in the past millennia. These apples are meant to be preserved and protected, lest their power fall into the wrong hands.”

“That said,” Idunn continued. “I know what Thanos did and the misery he brought, but I would not have given these fruits to anybody claiming they would use them to correct what he’s done. The actions of the Mad Titan must be reversed, and I can confidently say that I believe you will do it. Loki Odinson, god of mischief and lies, you have proven to me that your cause is true, and that you are worthy of receiving the golden apples.”

Loki crossed one hand over his chest and bowed deeply in front of the goddess. You did the same.

Idunn did a small bow herself, her braided hair dangling over her shoulder. She turned toward the tree and, reaching outward, picked five large, brilliantly golden apples, placing them in a basket. The goddess extended the basket to Loki, who grasped the handle with the utmost tenderness, as if it carried a newborn.

You peered over to look at them. Their golden skin was so lustrous that your and Loki’s faces were reflected back to you. As delicately as you could, you traced your fingers around the curve of one of the apples. It felt the same as an ordinary apple, except for the tingle that shot through your fingertips. When you pulled away you felt almost rejuvenated, like you hadn’t just been through hell two days ago.

“What did it do?”

Your initial thought was that its magic healed you, but you looked down and the burns were still on your arms.

“These apples, as I am sure you just felt, are very powerful,” the goddess explained. “Had you taken a bite, it would have healed you, but when simply touched it is more of an anesthetic.”

“Wow.”

Loki touched an apple as well, cocking his head as he processed the sensation. “I see what you mean. Fascinating.”

Idunn smiled. “Please take good care of them. These apples are the only ones I will grant you, so if you lose them or eat them all I will not be giving you any more. Five should be more than enough.”

“We’ll make every one count,” Loki said, clenching his grip on the handle.

“I’m sure you will.”

~~~

The painkilling property of the apple wore off a few hours later, demonstrating just how potent these fruit were.

With more help from Frigga and Loki’s healing magics and plenty of rest, you were finally mostly healed from the abuse you suffered from the fire giants.

One morning, you woke up to Loki stroking your hair. His emerald gaze was entirely undivided and on you. Quick on the trigger, the binding magic and the butterflies in your stomach made you want to get closer. So you did, and scooched closer to him.

“Morning,” you spoke.

“Closer to afternoon, actually.”

You stuck your tongue out at him.

“You look like you have something you want to say,” you said.

Loki broke his gaze from you and sighed. “Yes, actually.”

“What is it?”

“I…” he paused to look beyond you, at the basket of golden apples resting on the nightstand. “You’re healed now and you’re safe. My father has given his blessing for me to leave his realm and, well, it’s time I finally set this insane plan in motion.”

“When do you want us to leave?”

Loki began slowly: “I don’t quite think you understand what I’m getting at.”

But you knew exactly what he was getting at, and yet you needed to hear him say it. You continued to play dumb until he finally did.

“I am going with the apples. I am going to find the Avengers, show the apples to them, and we will track down Thanos, kill him, and reverse the Snap.”

“You,” you said.

“Yes, me. And you, my darling – you will stay here and regain the last of your strength. When we win, I will return here and we’ll figure out how to sever the bond, then you can go home.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“That’s a nice thought but Thanos took people I love from me. I’ve come all this way with you and if I just stayed here and did nothing… I’m tired of feeling useless. You taught me magic; I can use it.”

“You can’t come with me,” Loki said, firmer this time.

“Well, I can’t really stay here either. If you leave, my bond will get weaker again because I won’t be close to you,” you said.

“That’s why I’m going to leave half an apple with you.” Loki gestured to the basket. You hadn’t noticed that he already cut one in half. “When you start to feel weakened, just one bite will be enough to strengthen you again for days.”

“Once again, that’s a nice thought, but I’m coming with you.”

Loki made a sound of irritation. “This conversation wasn’t intended to be a debate.”

“Well, too bad, because I can help!” Your voice rose an octave.

His did the same. “You can do magic but you are nowhere near ready to take on someone like Thanos!”

“But. I. Can. Help!”

“It’s not about help!” Loki pushed back.

“We’ve come all this way together!“ You felt the sting of tears in your eyes.

“And you’ve done a fine job. So stay here!”

“But –”

“I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU!”

Any wind you had behind your next argument… Poof, gone. You closed your mouth after realizing it was agape. In all your time with Loki, you had seen him in all forms of anger, but never had he yelled at you.

You reached out to him. “Loki…”

“You stubborn, stubborn mortal. I almost lost you back with the fire giants. I couldn’t live with myself if that madman killed you. I couldn’t, I couldn’t…”

Those butterflies when you awoke seemed to have invited some friends.

You scooted closer to Loki and cupped your hands around either side of his face, pulling him in for a kiss. He was incredibly tense but relaxed after a moment. The god returned the kiss, resting his palm in the crook of your neck. It was tender at first; they were small kisses of care, of affection. He poured all of his fear into you, and you poured all of your hesitation into him. There was so much unsaid, and it all came apart here.

After a minute, they became kisses of want, of desperation. A few times you had to break off to catch your breath and although he’d never admit it, there were times he needed to catch his breath too. Your hands traveled to his chest, grasping the cloth of his shirt in your hands and keeping him so he couldn’t escape from you. Because he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t escape from you. He wouldn’t go off to fight Thanos and leave you here, not after all this and after all you two have been through.

Loki held one of his hands behind your neck, cradling your head while his other hand caressed your side, tracing up and down your curves. As he did this he occasionally bit your lip, or took a break from your lips to nibble your ear or your jaw. How he was able to multitask all these little things; his lips, both hands - you didn’t know, but a thousand years of experience was probably a good guess.

Nothing much had even happened yet but your body was on fire, not just because you were becoming incredibly turned on but because the bond – it was almost singing. It was singing a song of passion and desire but it couldn’t be completed until you went further. And you wanted to hear it, you wanted to conduct the song with the god of mischief.

Mid-kiss, Loki chuckled.

“What?” you asked, mirroring his smirk.

“I really, truly don’t know how we’ve been able to go for this long without – “

“Without?”

Loki pursed his lips. “Without, hmm… Sealing the deal.”

You blushed. It really was a wonder how long both of you had the restraint for weeks, months now without making love. And it was something you pondered about quite a bit. How would it be to make love to the god of mischief? Ignoring how every kiss turned that tug in your chest into a violent yank, there was a good extent of your feelings that weren’t from the bond. The magic was meant to persuade you to couple with him but it wasn’t just that. It was his charm, his intelligence, his humor, his eyes, his voice, and honestly everything else – that attracted you to him.

“I’m not sure either, but I’d say it’s my stubbornness, probably,” you said.

“Now, that is the most likely answer.”

“It is pretty funny.”

“May I ask why?” Loki asked. “Why have you pushed me away for so long? I know at first we could barely stand each other, but we’ve both known for a while our attraction to each other. It would be so much easier to just do it and free you from your bond to me. Why?”

It was a great question, and one you had an immediate answer to: you didn’t want to submit. You wanted to break this bond with work and determination, not by going the easy route. And at one point this may have been the true answer, but not anymore, not really.

Tears stung your eyes as you confronted your hidden fears. You shut your eyes tightly to will them away. There was a real reason why you kept him at bay.

“Because what happens after?” you said.

Loki blinked. “After?”

“After we have sex, how will we feel about one another? How much of this, this stupid tug in my chest from that stupid sacrifice, is drawing us to each other? What if…” You willed more tears away. “What if we don’t actually feel anything for each other? What if all this is a lie? Or even worse, what if what I’m feeling is real, but you’re just attracted to me because that’s what the bond wants you to feel?”

You continued, shaking your head. “I can’t stand it,” you gasped. “I can’t stand not knowing what’s real and what’s not. I couldn’t give myself to you and, after it’s done, learn that it really was just the magic and that you could never love me. I couldn’t do it, Loki. I think it would break me.”

“Heh,” Loki chuckled, but it wasn’t the same kind of chuckle when he was musing to himself earlier. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t have the same reasons.”

“What?”

The god brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes.

“At first, I was fine with the prospect of sleeping with you just to unbind you to me. It would have been a bit of fun and then you’d have gone on your way. But over time, well, things just had to get more complicated.”

So, it wasn’t just you.

“You’ve been holding back too?”

“Yes, you silly earth girl. The attraction and the binding magic are a hell of a drug together. It’s been quite maddening.”

“So… What do we do?” you asked.

“I think the decision is yours to make.”

You were afraid of what the truth may be, but not knowing was equally vexing. Whether you broke the bond by conventional means or through reversing it, you were going to find out regardless.

You looked up at him. When had he gotten on top of you? His bright green eyes bore into your own and the desire for this man came flooding back, especially with his lean, fit body hovering over your own.

You answered with action instead of words, and pulled the god of mischief toward you. It was time to find out. You resumed touching and kissing him as you had before, and he returned your advances, making your body and bond sing again. The relief of just giving in flooded over you; your desires, your needs, your bond, they were all going to be satisfied and you would be freed of the magic, finally.

That is, until he whispered something and a lavender light encircled his fingers. Before you could question him, Loki touched his hand to your temple. Your eyelids became incredibly heavy.

Everything went black.

[leviiattacks]

ways levi is possesive? well not really possessive zaria i hope you get what i mean but how he handles the thought of thinking about losing his significant other?

author note :: not great, just found this unposted thing in my drafts i haven’t even read it,,, word count :: who knows i can’t be bothered to check so,,,, i’m estimating 900 words :-)

levi’s hands shake and he can barely keep his composure when you’re injured in any way

“there’s no way you bumped into something. stop lying to me. who did it?”

talking levi down from there has always been difficult but he eventually gives in and tends to your other cuts and bruises. even though he’s frustrated and worried that you’ve somehow ended up in this state his first priority is always making sure you’re okay

the entire time he disinfects your wounds his hands still shake. not out of anger, you assume that for a split second levi feels anxious.

you don’t blame him especially when he’s always been protective over you. when all the people he’s ever loved have left you don’t take what he says personally when he scolds you.

“y/n, when i get my fucking hands on them. you don’t understand what i’ll do.”

all you say is that it’s your fault for picking a fight you couldn’t win in the first place but that still doesn’t stop levi’s continuous string of frustrated profanities

although you and levi have been together for quiet some time to the point you would be considered his partner or lover he dislikes when people see you as that. he knows if you ever die all he’ll be met with will be sentences that sound the same.

“we’re sorry, the death of a partner can be especially difficult.” — yes you are the person he loves, you are his partner but he would prefer if people referred to you by name if you ever passed

other couples tend to promise to return in one piece after expeditions but you and levi do the opposite. it would be far too painful to think about the promise if it were to ever be broken and so the both of you give each other a hug instead. it’s just in case if it’s the very last time you’ll be able to indulge in that luxury

when you do return from difficult expeditions he usually can’t stand to look at you. his deep eyes droop, he’s constantly exhausted and frankly tired of the world’s current climate but through all of that you stagger towards him and you smile brighter than anyone else. for a moment he wonders if maybe all this is worth it if he can give you even better reasons to smile

he wishes you’d smile when talking about the sea or the mountains, he wishes you’d smile at anything else but him because he doesn’t think he deserves it, not when you’re struggling to walk and you’re covered from head to toe in blood

levi’s possessive but he’s not overbearing and he’s not uncomfortable either. he lets you do whatever you like and you let him do the same

but where levi draws the line is if it concerns your safety. that’s when he jumps in without even asking

now, he doesn’t like to control the decisions you make but there’s only so much he can handle. he knows he has a higher rank than you and if that rank lets him keep you safe and away from dangerous choices he’ll make sure you’re not recklessly sacrificing your life.

if it’s a matter of what the commander’s asked you to do he won’t interfere, it’s not his place and orders are orders but if you stupidly decide to volunteer for a risky idea he flat out refuses and bans you from it

he doesn’t care if it angers you, he doesn’t care if out of frustration you refuse to talk to him.

you’re still alive and that’s all that really matters to him.

he knows there’s a difference in power. he’s stronger than you, hell he’s stronger than everyone in the squad. levi doesn’t hold the name of humanity’s strongest soldier for no reason and that is what petrifies him

the fact that you’re weaker than him keeps him up at night. he’s always had trouble sleeping but when he realises the gravity of his feelings for you he can’t bare to face the idea of sleep

what if he opens his eyes and you’re no longer there? what if he opens his eyes and you’re dead?

in this world the strong survive and you, you’re strong in your own way but you’re not strong the way levi is. you’re more of a strategic thinker and you’re only slightly above average when it comes to combat

levi’s seen people more advanced than you succumb to death, he’s seen them right before their last moments and the fear that he’ll have to see you die before his eyes is ever present

he really never does stop thinking about it. the only time he’s able to stop himself is when you’re in bed laying next to him breathing right against his neck. you’re alive then, he knows you’re alive, you’re not gone yet.

but after much thought levi comes to terms with the fact that you’ve always been strong-willed and even if it may not be in the physical sense he’s well aware your determination and perseverance are unmatched

he occasionally looks down at you when you’re in his arms. he sits there for a while softly drawing circles against your back. it’s then that he thinks about how you’d be the perfect parent if you both ever decided to have children – that scenario is of course assuming the future is brighter than the present.

honestly, he’d like to think it is for your sake.

and for now he supposes that the prospect of that desired future will have to get him through this. you’ll make it out of this hell alive and well, hopefully with him by your side.