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mysterytickingnoise · 3 years ago

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Someday

Pairing: Merlin x Reader

Genre: Bittersweet Angst

Word Count: 2,058

Summary: After getting caught and accused of doing witchcraft, and failing to prove your innocence to Uther, you have to take desperate measures to flea the kingdom. Unfortunately your escape plan works a little too well, and without your knowledge the people close to you end up mourning you.

Request from @joyismycenter : "If you’re asking, I’d love some bbc Merlin x reader where he though the reader was dead but she/they turn out not to be. Love me that happy angst"

Authors Note: Thank you so much for sending in the first request for this blog! Fair warning I'm doing all my writing on my phone at the moment and I couldn't really get the ending to flow how I wanted it to so it's not perfect, but I really hope everyone likes it!

[Image Description: A gif of Merlin (from the BBC Show Merlin played by Colin Morgan) looking over his shoulder. End description]

It was such a silly mistake.

You trusted someone too soon, tried to help them.

Next thing you knew you were being accused of witchcraft. It was true but considering your accuser had no real evidence you thought perhaps you could argue your way out of it. You called them crazy, demanded proof, spouted off any alternative explanation for what had happened to no avail. Uther didn't give a damn about proof, the moment the word magic was held against you it was up to you to prove you hadn't used it.

Even if you hadn't, how do you prove a thing like that?

Pleading your case was useless, and the one person who could help you had left with Arthur and the knights before any of this had begun. Even if they somehow showed up before the execution, you wouldn't want Merlin's help.

He couldn't be caught helping you, not with his destiny. You weren't worth the risk, though he certainly would've argued otherwise if he'd had the chance.

No, you only had one choice left in your small cell. You would have to find an opportunity to use something that you saved for a situation such as this. When an old friend came to visit, to say goodbye, that was your opportunity.

You asked them to come back with the blue vial tucked in the back of your armoire. "It's a poison," You had told them. "I don't want to give Uther the satisfaction."

Tearfully, they obliged. In the middle of the night you chugged it down, and not one hour later your 'body' was wrapped in a sheet and wheeled out of the dungeons 'To be buried in the morning.' But the enchantment on the potion wore off before then, and you woke up alone and free.

You crept out of Camelot at the break of dawn with nothing but the clothes on your back, making it to the treeline before your will broke down and you turned back to look at the old castle peeking out over the tall walls.

Your home was behind those walls, your friends lived there, and the man you had surely fallen for. Tears stung your eyes as you thought about him, the fact you never got to say goodbye, how long it would be until you would see him again.

You could risk waiting for him to return, but if someone outside of Arthur's party were to catch you...you would be forced to do something you'd regret. You'd have to cross the line of no return and goodbye at that point would surely be permanent.

'Someday,' You thought, 'Until then, he'll understand, he might even come find me.'

Little did you know the guard who discovered the empty cloth had no intention of telling the king that the body of a prisoner had gone missing on his watch. No, he had a family to tend to, he wasn't losing his position because of some witch. It didn't even cross his mind that you might not be dead.

There was an empty grave in the pauper's field the next morning, and any questions on your whereabouts were contained in the mind of one underpaid guardsman for two years.

Meanwhile, Merlin had been devastated when he heard the news, even confused. Gaius told him the whole story, what he knew of it anyway, but he could never wrap his mind around it. It didn't make sense. He had spoken to you only a few days before, you smiled and hugged him and told him to come home safe. And just like that you were gone? The irrational fear of someone you tried to help, and the blind tyranny of Uther, that's all it took and now nobody would ever see that smile again. No, it didn't make any sense at all.

He eventually did what he had to do, put on a brave face and got back to work. And yes, a while after that night things got somewhat close to normal again. But there were always moments where he'd think to himself that he'd have to tell you about his day or a joke he heard, and then he'd remember. In other moments, he'd see Uther laughing at dinner or be forced to hear one of his speeches and his jaw would clench just a little tighter than it had before. And when he found himself awake in the middle of the night, when the world was dead silent and the only light in his room came from the moon, it was because he had found himself caught up in the memories you had together.

You had those nights too.

You had been dead on your feet by the time you stumbled into the small, reclusive village you'd learn to call your home. You'd been told that nobody really ever passed through on purpose, and they liked it that way. You told them that you could use a life like that, and then asked if they had need a physician. They did.

Sure, a reclusive person probably would've loved the little life you built for yourself. You had a small but cozy spot to live on the edge of the village, not long after you showed up you began to tend to minor wounds and ailments, making a few friends along the way. Occasionally two farmers would ride into the city to barter off crops for supplies and other things, eventually they began to bring you back a book or a small trinket each time to thank you for your work. It was nice.

But still loneliness tugged at your heart, more than you imagined it would when you took that last look at your home. On the most random days, doing the most random things, you'd find yourself thinking about everyone again and crying for up to an hour before you could pull yourself together again. Those moments became more rare over time, but they never hurt any less. You were never quite back to normal.

Finally, you were wrapping a farmers broken finger, speaking about the state of the kingdom and how you were surprised Uther had felt the need to improve anything it all, when you heard the news.

"Oh, no. The king died months ago, Arthur's in charge now."

You knew you must've gone pale, as the next thing the man said to you was a question of your health. You were quick to respond with a growing smile, "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

He shrugged at you, "I'm not all that concerned with politics. These men, they're all the same to us out here, you know?"

But you knew the difference.

Your life depended on it.

You finished his treatment and sent him away without much else to say on the matter. You had to pack, after all. Later on that day you pleaded with a neighbor to let you borrow her horse, and your friends gathered around as they overheard you say you needed to go to the capitol. You honestly felt a bit bad leaving in such a rush, but after you relayed a safe version of your story, why you came here and why you had to leave, they all seemed to understand.

With many promises from you that they could send for you if they ever needed to, and many words of encouragement from them, you took off. Even when you stopped in the night to allow the horse some rest, you never got any yourself, too excited and nervous and overwhelmed all at once. You spent hours contemplating what to say to everyone, but nothing seemed right.

Another days journey, and you were home.

The response you got to your return wasn't what you expected. Your first stop was to check on the friend who got the potion to you in the first place, and strangely they let out a short shriek before slamming the door in your face. You knocked again, speaking through the door. "It's me...I'm back?"

"Go away!"

You furrowed your brow at them, hurt and confused. But ultimately you walked away, thinking a reaction like that might be deserved considering what you must've put them through that night. As you continued down the street there were a few people who recognized you and proceeded to clear out of your way with gasps and whispers, pulling along anyone they were walking with.

Last time you were here you had been accused of witchcraft, and two decades of fear don't just disappear with a new king, so you simply accepted that as the reasoning and started to make your way up through the lower towns.

On the other end of the city, Merlin had just reached the end of an extremely long day. It had dragged on so long that it felt as though the walk from the armoury to his room took another hour. He didn't even bother to get something to eat, he just wanted to sleep. So naturally when he had just layed down in bed when someone decided to knock on the front door, he didn't know any better than to be annoyed.

At first he thought Gaius would take care of it, then he remembered that he wasn't home.

Maybe they'll just go away.

Whoever it was knocked again and he pulled the pillow over his head.

Please go away.

The front door creaked open and he heard a familiar voice call out. "Hello...Gaius? Merlin?"

He sat up, a heavy feeling settling into his gut as he realized where he had heard that voice before.

But...it couldn't be. Could it?

He shook his head, leaving his bedroom to shoo out the person who couldn't have been you.

But there you were, flipping through an old book that had been sitting on the table since the day before. When you noticed he was standing there you looked up with a sad smile, saying the only thing that you could think of; "Hi..."

"Hi?"

"I uh- I know it's been a long time," You started, crossing your arms over your chest in an awkward stance. "I wish I didn't have to leave like I did but..."

"Leave??" He repeated what you said once more. Finally you registered how strangely he was looking at you, not angry or upset but bewildered, and maybe even scared. What he said next confused you even more. "How are you alive?"

"I thought you might've had more faith in me than that." You joked, but he wasn't amused. "Am I missing something?"

He was hesitant to approach you, unsure of how he was supposed to say it but he tried. "They told me you were gone, that you'd poisoned yourself. I mean...Gaius saw you."

"It was meant to look like that, but it was a trick." You said. "I left when I awoke, they didn't tell people I escaped?"

He shook his head no, tears starting to stream down his face. "...I can't believe this."

As the reality of the situation hit you, you couldn't help but cry as well. All you were guilty about, what you thought you put your loved ones through, it had actually been so much worse. "I am so sorry, if I had any idea I would've- well I don't know what I would've done. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm just, I'm so happy that you're here, and you're okay." Striding over with a grin, he pulled you into his arms. "I've missed you."

"And I, you. More than I could ever put into words." With a laugh you continued. "Things got so boring without you."

"I'm sure they did, you won't believe some of things I have to tell you."

And that was all it took, you both sat down at a table as you filled each other in on everything that had happened in the last two years. It took hours, there were multiple times you had to stop and collect yourselves as certain stories had you laughing until your stomachs ached. Gaius came home and after another tearful welcome back he made you all something to eat and had plenty of his own twists on things that had happened.

As if no time had passed at all, the world felt normal again. You were back where you belonged.

You were home.

#Merlin x reader #bbc merlin x reader #bbc merlin fanfiction

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polnareffenjoyer · 4 years ago

Note

Uh unsure how many characters you’re willing to write for but can I have the SDC crew reacting to seeing their crush’s sketchbook filled with drawings and silly comics of them? On the case you do have a limit on how many, then I’m fine with either Polnareff, Kakoyin, Jotaro or Avdol (who can pick whoever if you want to!) Hope you’re having a lovely day!💕💕

This is such a cute idea anon, hope you like it. Also I don't really have a character limit, I wanted to do all of the crusaders but then I got tired and it already took me such a long time to finish it and ahhh. Sorry for all the grammatical errors, English is not my first language and it's already so late when I'm finishing it and it's just bleh. I hope you like it anyways, sending much love to you anon! ♥️

Stardust Crusaders finding their crushes' sketchbook

Jotaro Kujo

He notices that you've been spending most of your free time drawing in that sketchbook of yours. Truth be told, it bothers him a lot. Jotaro has had a big fat crush on you for a while now, and he secretly longs for your company. He can't admit that tho, he has a hard ass bad boy reputation to maintain after all. What would people say if the saw him all flustered for a girl? The fact that you would rather sit by yourself and draw than be around him and the others bugs him. So one day, when you're busy with something else, he takes your beloved sketchbook and decides to see what's in there. He knows he's being creepy, but he couldn't care less. Just trying to get to know you better, without actually talking to you. Exactly.

He's very flustered but would rather die than admit it. Has read through all of it, admiring every single little drawing. After he's done, he'll just put it back where he found it, it the exact same place just so you don't notice someone has been messing with it. You probably have no idea he had seen your sketchbook at first, but you surely notice the blush dusting his cheeks whenever he speaks to you from that day on. Probably avoids you for a little while because he's so flustered.

The rest of the crew also notices something is off, Jotaro is always lost in thoughts and smokes more frequently. He can't keep himself from thinking about those cute drawings of yours, reading through your comics was a true delight. It fills him with glee to know that HE, among all of the crusaders, is the one who's the main character in your stories. It makes him giddy on the inside.

His secret eventually comes to light one night, he accidentally admits to having read through your comics while a late night talk between the whole group. While you were talking, Kakyoin had brought up the topic of your sketchbook. Now it's your turn to be embarassed, blushing crimson while trying to get as much information out of him as possible. How much did he see? Did he read through ALL OF THEM?

The rest of the crusaders are shocked at first, but quickly they start to laugh at the scene. Jotaro is reluctant to give any information, but he eventually tells you that yes, indeed, he's seen EVERYTHING. However, doesn't admit what the content of the sketchbook really is. Despite everything, he would never embarass you like that.

After everyone goes to sleep, you catch Jotaro before he has a chance to fall asleep, lying on his sleeping bag while looking at the night sky. You want to apologize, say anything, just to talk to him, but you're unable to find right words. He just sighs.

"Yare yare daze, there's no need to be embarassed [Y/N], I'm not mad"

Your eyes light up at his words. You want to say something, anything, thank him, but before you get a chance to do so, Jotaro's deep voice cuts you off.

"To be honest, I think your drawings are amazing. I really liked them" you notice his face is slightly tinted red from underneath his cap "But if you wanted me to model for you, you could've just said so"

With that, he rolls over and away from you. Completely baboozled, you roll over as well and try to sleep, or at least pretend to be asleep. Honestly, neither of you had slept much that night.

Kakyoin Noriaki

Kakyoin had a thing for you since you joined the crusaders, and your sketchbook is probably the very first thing he had noticed about you. He's always been interested in art, his parents had signed him up to numerous art courses and whatnot through his life. He's always loved drawing and painting, using it as an escape from his daily problems, and seeing that you two might have something in common makes him incredibly happy, especially since he has feelings for you.

He'll try to approach you about your sketchbook very subtely, afraid that he might scare you away by being too pushy. Of course you get extremely flustered everytime he brings it up, but it doesn't discourage him. Kakyoin respects your boundaries and understands that you might not be ready to show him your drawings yet. Despite that, he's always willing to share his knowledge with you. He'll give you advices about proper shading while you two are waiting in the hotel lobby for the rest of the group to finish up picking rooms. During a long car ride, he'll talk to you about his favourite artists. If you want him to show you how to put certain shading techniques into practice, he'll be more than happy to do so. He'll just pick a random piece of paper and start drawing on it, you might want to lean in closer and maybe put your head on his shoulder to get a better look? He has no objections! Just sayin.

When he eventually gets to see your sketchbook, this man is so honored! He didn't mean to look, at first he though it was just some book lying around and wanted to take a look inside, out off boredom. Once he realizes what he's reading at, his face flushes with crimson. Your sketchbook is filled with sketches of him? This whole time you were actually drawing him, out of all people? He couldn't be more grateful that no one else was around, if someone saw him reading through your comics with this stupid smile on his face and red cheeks, they would've though he went mad.

Kakyoin wastes no time trying to find you. For a moment, he thinks that perhaps he should've waited a bit, just to get you alone and not embarass you infront of the whole crew. He can't think straight though, his mind filled with your cute little drawings, with his face drawn with black pen over and over again. With glee, he notes that you had used the very techniques he had told you about earlier. If you had drawn him so many times, does it mean that you have a crush on him too? It's too good to be true.

"[Y/N]! Can I talk with you for a minute?"

He goes to confront you immediately. Others give him a puzzled look, but he couldn't care less. He grabs your arms and leads you away.

"Don't be mad [Y/N], but I've seen your sketchbook and I have to say, I think your art is beyond amazing!"

You're at loss of words, your face red and you could swear that you've never felt so embarassed in your whole entire life. However, his reaction is making you feel a bit better. He's not mad, nor is he making fun of you. If anything, he seems enamoured.

"Please, [Y/N], we should draw together! Maybe next time we have a chance, I should paint your portrait?"

Despite the awkwardness, the whole situation turns out amazing in the end. How he's sure you must have feelings for him, and it makes him incredibly happy, hoping that one day, after your crusade is done, he'll get a chance to repay you and make that promised portrait.

Muhammad Avdol

With everything that's been happening lately, Avdol gets a little bit distracted from you. Before he would steal glances your way all the time, watching with curiosity as you would draw something in your sketchbook. Recently, he's been too busy fighting enemy stand users and... well, trying not to die. He still cares about you a lot and watches over you during fights, ready to shield you from danger with his own body, if it's what it takes to keep you safe.

It probably happens because of a mishap. While you are deciding on your rooming, you leave your sketchbook lying next to Avdol's things and go to the bathroom. After he's done helping Joseph with translating and getting everything done, he goes back and assumes that it's just one of his books that has fallen out of the bag. Not thinking much of it, he picks it up and leaves with Mrs Joestar to settle in their shared room.

You can imagine the panic and shock that nearly paralyzes you once you notice that your beloved sketchbook is gone, nowhere to be seen, reduced to atoms! You begin to look around frantically, looking under the furniture while sweating profusely. Other quests give you weird looks, but you don't even notice them staring. Polnareff is one of them, he asks if you're okay and tries to calm you down, but to no avail. After he leaves, you try to focus really hard and try to remember - when did you see it last time? It was on that chair for sure when you left. God, you can only pray that it doesn't end up in Avdol's hands somehow...

Meanwhile, Avdol is getting ready for shower and goes through his bag. He notices the book he picked up from the lobby isn't even a book, but a sketchbook! Now he's sure he must've picked it up by mistake, he decides it would be best to put it down and not look through it. It's someone's very personal art after all, it would be very disrespectful to - wait a damn minute, is that HIM?

Long story short, he goes through a good portion of your drawings before Joseph comes out of the shower and gives him a puzzled look, seeing how his eyes are literally shinning with adoration. He puts your sketchbook back into his bag, acting as if nothing happened and continues on with his nightly routine. Later on, when Joseph is already fast asleep, he contemplates about whether or not he should go to your room right now and ask about the sketchbook he had found. He's already suspecting it's yours, whose else would it be? He has seen you drawing often, could it be that you returned his feelings and had spent your time sketching him? Ultimately, he decides to wait until tomorrow to find out.

The very next day, he knocks on your door early in the morning. It startles you awake, running up to your door to look through a peephole, seeing a muscular man on the other side. Sighing heavily, you unlock the door and open it just a little bit.

"Excuse my intrusion, [Y/N], but I have found something that I think belongs to you."

Now that's embarassing. You see your sketchbook in his hand, a wide, knowing smile on his face. He knows it's yours. All it took is one look at your stupid red face to figure it out. God, he can read you like an open book, can't he? While you reach out to take it from him, your fingers touch just slightly.

"Don't worry, I swear I won't tell anyone about this" she winked at you, which almost made you gasp "If anything, I think I should maybe pose for you in private? So you can get a better look? You should think about it..."

Who would've thought this man could be such a flirt sometimes...

Jean Pierre Polnareff

You better watch out, because if this man has a crush on you, you bet he would go above and beyond to find out what's inside that sketchbook. I'm not joking. He forgets what personal space is, he's even worse that Jotaro, because while JoJo would make sure to be sneaky, Polnareff wouldn't even bother. He'll try to catch a sneak peak by looking over your shoulder while you're drawing, constantly asking you questions about art related things, everything always leading to your sketchbook.

He wants to know what's inside. Simple as that. You're like an enigma to him, I feel like all women are mysteries to him and he always works towards finding out what their secrets are. You are especially interesting to him, because of how secretive you are with your art. He's captivated, and while he never had any interest in arts himself, he had always fancied himself as a man with a great sense of beauty. That being said, he's always trying to get your attention while talking about how "France is a wonderful country for artists! You should come and visit after our crusade is over, [Y/N]! I'll show you all the greatest museums and art galleries!"

He's like a puppy, following you around and being just a bit too pushy. If you tell him you feel uncomfortable, he'll back off of course. He's not just some juvenile pervert after all! He's a honourable man who would never touch or bother a woman without her permission, no matter how desperate he seems sometimes.

When he finally sees your sketchbook, it's probably because he did it on purpose and not because of an accident. He wanted to make sure that it was him your were capturing in your drawing, and boy was he happy when he saw what's inside! It's all him, cute little sketches, little comics, it's better that he could've ever imagined! He's literally crying the tears of joy while reading them. Before it was all just wishful thinking, but now it turns out to be true! He's honoured, admiring every single little drawing with hit tears streaming down his face. He must look pathetic right now, if anyone was around they would think the was a mad man. He gets up and runs away with your sketchbook in his hand, trying to find you.

"[Y/N]! Ma cherie! Mon coeur! My love, my life! We need to talk!"

Did i mention that he doesn't shy away from nicknames? Yeah.

It's probably the worst confrontation compared to the rest of them, he's not subtle like Kakyoin and decides to talk with you about your drawings right then and there, in front of everyone. At first they're surprised, looking at Polnareff as is he was crazy, but slowly their shock is replaced with amusement. Joseph doesn't even try to hold back his laughter, while the rest of the crew is trying to keep it cool as not to embarass you any further while the Frenchman is just going on and on with his declarations of undying love. It's a bit dramatic, one of these moments that you will probably laugh about in the future, but you felt like disappearing right then and there.

"Your drawing are magnifique! [Y/N], my love, if you wanted to draw me, you could've just said so! Although I don't think I deserve to be potrayed by you, to be drawn by your skilled hands, ma cherie!"

You snatch the sketchbook from him. After that incident you probably try to avoid him, but he won't give up! He's more determined than ever, knowing that you feel the same way as he does fills him with hope, hope for a future life with you that is! He won't give up until he makes you the happiest woman on earth.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba x reader #jjba x you #stardust crusaders #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #muhammad avdol #jean pierre polnareff #jotaro x reader #jjba imagines #stardust crusaders imagines #kakyoin imagine #polnareff x reader #avdol x reader #jjba headcanons #first request done!

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sugarcubetikki · 4 years ago

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Bitter Beginnings

Summary: Despite reaching home, the only thing that Anne can seem to think of is Marcy Wu.

Notes: True Colors absolutely destroyed me and I had to write something to pour my emotions into. Besides, I wanted to explore Anne's reaction to this fully. She saw one of her best friends who she’s secretly in love with being STABBED right in front of her eyes. Like, how the hell is she meant to process that? Regardless of her being home or not, that has to have an IMPACT.

AO3

When Anne used to picture returning home, she’d always assume that the first thing she’d do was run straight into her parents’ arms, engulf them in a hug, whisper in between tears how much she missed them, how sorry she was for disappearing like that and with the gentle reassurance that everything was going to be fine.

But nothing was fine.

She was back home. Finally, back home. She’d been picturing this perfect moment for months now. She’d been expecting this wild rush of euphoric frantic emotions when she came back. She’d been expecting to scream out loud in joy and cherish everything around her.

But what she wasn’t expecting was this.

What she wasn’t expecting was this lone feeling of pain that throbbed within her.

What she wasn’t expecting was this disastrous entrance. She knew nothing was close to perfect. But this was even worse than she could’ve ever imagined.

What she wasn’t expecting was this feeling to crash back into Amphibia. And it was for all the wrong reasons. The things she dreaded the most.

What she didn’t expect was sobbing amidst the familiar signs of shops and streets. Things she couldn’t cherish. Things that just hit her with even more nostalgia. Even more grief.

The Plantars held her in their arms steadily, a gesture of comfort, she appreciated it. But it couldn’t heal her pain. And onlookers stared with their phones, snapping pictures at her pain, under the assumption it was all part of a façade, that it was all just an act. A silly little acting gig. With the frogs as people in costumes. And the tears of the girl in pain just being a raw talent for charades.

No. No. It wasn’t a façade. It was all real. God, she wished it were a façade. She wished that all she’d been through was just a terrible nightmare. But she couldn’t refuse to face reality. Refuse to face the truth. And invent her own silly adventure inside her head.

Unlike the girl who’s name she was screaming. Clear in her ears.

“Marcy!” She yelped one more time. She felt Hop Pop squeeze her tighter into the embrace each time she yelled the name. “Marcy!”

Her sobs grew louder and so did the commotion of the onlookers. More and more came to watch, dropping coins, she’d just about had it. And it appeared that Hop Pop could see that.

“Alright! Alright! Gig’s over!” He turned to the onlookers and gathered the money they had thrown into his hands, stuffing them into the pockets of his oversized trench coat. After being blasted onto the car of a nice family, they had given him that coat under the tangle of many excuses they believed.

After the applause and tossing of coins, the crowd began to subside, Hop Pop wrapped the coat around her, it was warm, nice, consoling in a way. It also shielded her agony from pedestrians on the street.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else?” Hop Pop gently whispered into Anne’s ears.

Anne contemplated for a moment, before staring blankly at the ground, the place vivid in her head: quiet, small, and full of nostalgia.

“Yes.”

---

“It’s still strange that you humans don’t eat bugs.” Hop Pop commented as he took bites into his strawberry ice cream with much discomfort.

“Their digestive system is too sensitive.” Polly muttered, pushing her own chocolate ice cream aside in protest.

“Meh.” She blandly replied, taking another long bite into her mint chocolate chip ice cream, lounging her head onto the surface of the table.

Any other time, she’d have complained at Polly’s comment, or cracked a joke about how the roles had been reversed. But she didn’t really feel like it. At all.

“This was Marcy’s favourite flavour.” She simply stated.

The Plantars froze in dead silence.

“She wouldn’t eat any other flavour. I mean, she would talk about trying something different each time. Act all indecisive, analysing which choice would be the best.” She chuckled half-heartedly and felt that painful pang in her heart. “But she would always pick this one. Always.”

She gazed fondly at the ice-cream, the overwhelming grief rose to the surface again, and her eyes building up with tears again.

With a slight stifle, she turned to glance at the walls of the ice-cream parlour. Butterfly-patterned walls. Oh no.

“Sh-she loved b-butterflies.” She said shakily, tears rolling down her face. “Th-that’s why I d-designed her a butterfly costume for the battle of the bands…b-because sh-she l-loved them.”

A loud sob escaped her mouth, and she buried her face in her arm.

Hop Pop’s comforting hand once again landed on her head, brushing her hair in an assuring manner.

“Anne.” His voice drooped as he merely said her name. Nothing following it. Neither a ‘it’s all going to be alright’ nor a ‘we can fix this’.

Because it wasn’t alright. They couldn’t fix it.

How the hell could they fix Marcy getting stabbed like that?

Right in front of their eyes. Right in front of her eyes.

“I c-could’ve s-saved her. I COULD’VE SAVED HER.” Anne’s voice went from a frail sense of longing to a shriek in pure anger. Her breaths and sobs grew heavy, she felt herself shivering as Polly and Sprig rushed over to hug her again.

“Anne, please. Don’t put this on yourself. You’ll regret it.” Hop Pop warned.

“No! Hop-Pop! It’s the truth. I couldn’t help her! I had to watch Andrias pierce that sword through her chest without being able to anything! The strength of the portal held me in place. I couldn’t move!” Anne’s voice grew louder. There weren’t any customers at the parlour on a Tuesday morning, and no staff was at the counter as they were having lunch. They were on their own. Alone with their agony. “She knew it! Okay! I saw it in her face! She knew she was a total goner! Yet…y-yet…the o-only words she managed to say in th-that m-moment w-were…I’m sorry for everything…before…b-before…dropping dead to the ground.”

A harsh silence hung thick in the air.

All of them froze at the reminder of the moment. She watched the devastation dawn over the Plantars’ faces, before pulling away from their grasp, straightening up. Her vision blurred with tears as she stared at the melting mint chocolate chip ice-cream.

“Sh-she didn’t deserve th-that.” Sprig meekly said as he blindly fell back into his own chair. “Sh-she was nice, smart, sweet and despite what she did…she was good to you, Anne.”

“I-I know.” Her voice cracked in response.

“She let me into super cool facts and information. That you guys would think I was too young to understand! I liked how she didn’t think like that. When I asked her why she’d tell me all this, she said young was the best age to gather knowledge.” Polly murmured as she squeezed against Hop Pop firmly.

“She w-was very open-minded. Liked a lot of stuff and had an incredible nature to persevere ahead.” Hop Pop added. “She absolutely didn’t deserve that…but…Anne…don’t put it on yourself.”

“I-I s-still c-could’ve s-saved her though.”

“I could’ve saved Sprig and Polly’s parents too!” Hop Pop burst out and the tense cloud in the room grew thicker at the mention of their parents.

“Hop Pop- “Anne began meekly.

“Don’t! Don’t! Anne, we keep tying the grief we face on ourselves, try to go back and see how we could’ve stopped it, but the truth is…w-we d-don’t know what else to do. We don’t know how to get through this. Or how we could’ve.”

Hop Pop’s words broke something out of her chest that she didn’t even know was there, leading her to wail once more.

“I-I d-don’t know what to do, Hop Pop. Things were never meant to be like this. Marcy and Sasha were meant to be with me here today. We were supposed to celebrate our homecoming together. Or at least that’s what I thought we all wanted! But none of us got what we wanted. I’m back without them. Sasha…she’s never going to get back the way things used to be. And Marcy, M-marcy…she won’t get anything back.” Anne acknowledged woefully. The dreadful thoughts in her brain pouring out. “All I know is that I can’t stay here forever. I have to find a way to get back to Amphibia and do something, Hop Pop. I can’t leave things like this. I don’t know what I’m going to tell my parents when we meet them. Or Sasha’s. Or Marcy’s. I don’t know. But I’m not leaving things like this. We need to get back to Amphibia…somehow…”

“I know.” Hop Pop replied. “We do need to get back to Amphibia. We won’t leave things like this.”

“We have your back, Anne. Always.” Sprig added. “The Plantars stick together.”

“We lost Frobo. We lost Marcy. We lost a lot. But we’re not losing anything again. This time, Andrias will be the one who loses.” Polly finished indignantly.

“Thank you, guys.” She wrapped them into a hug, which they greatly reciprocated.

She was going to find Sasha.

Regardless of all complications, she was going to find her.

She was going to find Marcy.

Regardless of whether she was dead or alive, she was going to find her.

And she was going to find King Andrias.

Regardless of how much power and force he had, she was going to find him and stop him.

#sugar writes #amphibia #amphibia spoilers #true colours #amphibia fanfiction #amphibia fanfic #marcanne #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #amphibia s2 #hopadiah plantar #sprig plantar #polly plantar #sasha waybright #king andrias #amphibia angst #sashannarcy

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kaijurakunsobs · 3 years ago

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Mr. Malum

master list for this series

this took me far too long to complete, I keep getting sidetracked with other stuff...I need to work on a schedule, that I will ignore, cuz I have the attention span of a boiled rock.

this chapter has a different name due to the song Mr. Malum from the Dear Hunter, being the only thing I would think of while typing this chapter

Summary: Heisenberg has a secret that he clearly intends on keeping for himself but honoring your own word of not working for him unless you know what's going on with his factory, you offer him a deal that could benefit you both. A trip to the village, distrust dripping for these people's faces, and the whispers filled with fear is enough for you to learn that...Mr. Heisenberg and the other Lords are more than what they seem.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart! we have a lot of work to do today" Heisenberg screams, throwing the door of your room open, making you sit and scream in surprise, the sound of his laughter is enough to cut your fear short and replace it with humiliation.

Before you can even respond the man is out and waiting in the kitchen, at least, he gave you time to compose yourself, running your fingers through your tangled hair and cursing yourself for going to sleep with damp hair, the tossing and turning did nothing to help, making the rat's nest that's your hair so much worst. Perhaps you should consider cutting it short, that would make it more manageable.

Joining him in the kitchen it's strange, half hoping to be met with his usual snark, instead, he's drinking coffee and looking over some papers, another mug has been placed on the table, the acrid smell of black coffee incites you to get close and take the warm mug in your hands, the taste is strong and it's enough to fully wake you up.

"We are going to be working on the west wing, some of the vents have been giving problems which is making the place overheat" a blueprint it's pushed towards you, the areas to be inspected are circled with red pen. "Since you are a lot slimmer, you will be getting into some hard to access places, keep the print, that way you will know what to fix"

Looking down at the print, you contemplate your situation.

It's, quite clear, that you can't escape, he said so yesterday, talking about the possibility of Miranda killing you or him catching you before she did. You can't refuse to work for him either, even after you told him you wouldn't do it until you knew what was going on in the factory, and it seems he decided to politely forget about that part of the conversation. There's no way out of this...but there's a way to try and twist his arm.

After all, you are not stuck here with him, he's stuck in here with you.

Putting down the mug, taking a moment to stretch your back and casually take a seat across from him "Yeah, this? sounds like a you problem" resting your head on your hands gives you the right amount of time to see him go from triumphant into anger "However! I'm willing to strike you a deal"

Father was a man who cared for his employees and sometimes caring for others means being, rather, unfair with those seeking to start a partnership, or so he said. "You have to assess how desperate you are when they come looking for you, but never push too hard on your luck, or you might lose the perfect cath, ask for realistic demands never for the Sun", those were his words, and you will be forever grateful for them.

" A deal?" leaning closer to you he looks at you from above his shades, a mocking smile on his face "What kind of deal are you offering? you have nothing to offer and I have everything you could want"

"Oh! but I do have a lot to offer, years of experience as a mechanic, the promise of optimizing your production rate, my family's factory for you to dismantle and get spare parts from...my silence?"

At that, he straightens up, face unreadable and impassive, hes thinking and considering. And you know it by watching him light up a cigar slowly, taking a couple of drags before expelling a large smoke cloud up to the ceiling. "I'm listening"

"Excellent, my demands are easy to meet, so don't worry" with careful movements you get up from the chair, unhurried steps carrying to stand behind him, snaking your hands up his arms and towards his shoulders, bending down to place your head close to his "All I ask from you is this, fitting clothes, a pair of gloves like yours and a leather apron, an actual bed, for you to repair the hot water, and have my own set of tools" you smile sweetly at him letting your right hand play with his hair "See? nothing too hard to get"

He's impressed with your boldness, not fearing getting your pretty hand burned with his cigar and pressing that delicious body of yours so close to him. And, indeed, your demands are nothing but reasonable compared to the blind devotion and absolute silence he's expecting from you, let alone, access to whatever is left from your factory.

The next time he expels smoke he does it in your direction, getting no reaction of you "And how do I know that you won't try and rat me out, doll? just trust your word and give you everything you want? I think I'll pass and just force you to do it"

"Well, I understand, it doesn't matter that I'm a woman of my word, words can be twisted and forgotten, sir. But...if you don't feel comfortable with a verbal agreement"

Your next move is not just bold, and you know it, you are weaponizing your own body, using it to make him lower his guard a little. Letting go of his shoulder to sit on his lap, back towards him, taking your sweet time to grab one of the paper sheets where he was jolting down notes and his pen. "We can do a contract if you prefer, that way I will be legally bound to do whatever it says and since you are a Lord, it will be just a formality"

There's a moment where you feel like gagging when his hands find your hips and push you to be closer to his body, it's his time to rest his head on your shoulder, looking at whatever you plan on writing down.

"Then do it, darlin'. Do your silly contract, which I expect you to abide by because I will do my part if that means I get to have you like this always"

"Of course, my Lord"

Immediately after you start writing down a rather simple contract, making sure to write everything you want and what you will be giving in return. The whole time he stays still, occasionally moving his head to blow the smoke away for you or the table in general, one hand squeezing your hip.

You are careful when offering the pen for him to sign the paper, tactfully placing your hand as to obscure a piece of the pact, he either doesn't care or thinks you are doing it to prevent the paper from slipping and messing his signature. Once he's done you sign quickly, smiling inwardly at your victory.

"Let me read this you" clearing your throat you begin to speak clearly and loud "I, Lord Karl Heisenberg, in full use of my mental capabilities, promise Miss Y/N L/N, to fulfill the following...One, provide her with proper clothing, which shall include a leather apron, heavy-duty gloves, and boots...Two, a bed and blankets for her to sleep in, making sure to place the bed in her bedroom...Three, acquire a new complete toolset for her...Four, repair the faulty got water pipe in the bathroom..."

The pause is done on purpose, looking at him over your shoulder to see his shit-eating grin morph into either confusion or anger "FIVE...make sure the kitchen is well stocked with all kinds of food, to ensure proper nourishment for my employee. The employee won't be expected to cook meals for me"

The hand on your hip shoots up to grab your neck, forcing you to be fully against him, his breath fans over the side of your face as he speaks "You little bitch, who do you think you are trying to swindle? you asked for four things, not five"

"Did I? I don't remember saying just four, sir...that's why contracts are so useful you see, after all, words can be twisted and forgotten" there's a small adrenaline rush when he growls so close to you, that you can feel the vibrations against your chest, almost crying out with joy when he let you go, clearly annoyed with your small victory.

"Fine, if that's the case!" his rudeness comes back with a vengeance when he pulls you off, doing quick work of walking to his room "Stay where you are" after that, only the distant lull of the machines can be heard, then there's the sound of his voice, almost whispering and growing slowly irritated by the second. It takes him a couple of minutes but he comes backs, dropping a bag full of money on the table.

"Since you are so hellbent on these demands of yours...and I have so much to do, for the foreseeable future, YOU are going down to the village, look for and get the seamstress to take your measurements, YOU are going to the Duke and buy whatever food we might need and tell him what tools you need, YOU are bringing said groceries from his Emporium all the way here, after all, your contract says I have to provide with clothing, food and put a bed in your toom, which means, it's YOUR responsibility to buy and transport the food while all I have to do is provide you with the money"

He got you...and he got you good, that's why making detailed contracts is always important, or you leave legal windows for the other party.

"Or...I can do all that for you, minus the clothes, if you sleep in my bed from now" his smile is wolfish and nasty, eyeing you the same way a starving dog would look at a defenseless chicken, it makes you question your flirting tactics from earlier, but you won't let him win.

"Well, you are right, I never said you needed to bring the groceries here" quickly you snatch the money from the table, getting up and walking to the door as if he didn't say anything about sharing his bed "I shall take my leave and come back before lunch, have a good day, sir!"

The door opens and with a side glance, you take his coat from the hook on the wall, scurrying off before he can say or do anything about it, almost bolting through the factory into the main entrance, afraid he will catch up with you and send you out into the freezing weather with nothing to shield you from it.

The trek down into the Village is something terrible, the terrain is irregular and some of the cobblestone steps are loose, trying to make a mental note of anything that might make you trip on your way back becomes a game, occasionally kicking some of the stones away and praying that you might now slip and fall.

You only stop to look at the 4 statues located past the bridge, taking a bit to admire the enormous things, their rotten features that have been consumed by the elements, and the weather, there's a pedestal of some sort in the middle but nothing else, following the path you find yourself looking at the Duke, slowly dozing off sitting inside his cart and his merchandise im plain view. The sound of your boots against the floor and snow, alert him of your presence.

"Ah! but it isn't our lovely Y/N, did Lord Heisenberg sent you for something, or are you here to acquire something for yourself?" hes already rubbing his hands together looking at you with interest

"You know me so well! I do come to run some...errands...Heisenberg set me to find the seamstress and to get groceries, his entire kitchen is empty, also, to place an order for me!"

The man laughs at your expression filled with pride, trying to uncover what or how you managed to get out of the factory on your second day there, smiling approvingly at whatever trick you used. "Of course, of course! tell me more about your shopping needs and I shall have them covered in no time"

"Oh, I wanted to know if I could write you a list and come back for the groceries on my way back?"

"Whatever you might need, miss Y/N" He's quick into offering you a pen and notepad, remarking the importance of treating all his customers with great care, and prideful of his service.

It takes you a bit to write down everything the kitchen lacks off and placing the order for your tools, gloves, and boots your size, acting a bit selfish by asking him to get you soap. The Duke reassures you that he will have your order as soon as possible and your groceries packed by the time you come back.

"Before I leave, by any chance do you know where I can find the seamstress? Heisenberg sent me out and told me to ask around...the prick"

"I do, it's an easy trip just go through that door and walk until you see the Maiden of War, a statue of a woman with a sword, easy to see! from it go west into the village and look for a house with teal walls, or simply ask for Sabina's house, but be careful Y/N, the people there might not take kindly to your presence"

The Duke was right, as soon as you enter the village, people start to stare and talk in low voices as you walk past them, you can hear them call you "Lord Heisenberg's bride" which makes you scrunch up your nose, others are more concerned of your status as an outsider and the small group of people praising Mother Miranda for giving you a home in this place. At the mention of her name, you have to force down the taste of vile down your throat and keep on walking to Sabina's place.

The house is easy to spot in the sea of gloomy colors, the teal exterior pops like a sore thumb, it's clear the house has seen better days, but you are no one to comment on the current state of the place, limiting yourself to knock on the door and wait for a response.

Sabina is, probably, no older than you, but the expression lines and tiredness of her face make her look a lot older, as soon as she sees you, she ushers you inside, eyes glued to the floor and speaking softly...she's scared of you.

"I was asked by Lord Heisenberg to come, he told me..."

"YES! I...I was made aware of your need for clothes and something like an apron, I received a call from the Chruch and expected you a bit earlier, now im afraid this order might be too hurried" fear masked as anger, you know about that, that's the only thing you have felt lately "please strip down so I can properly measure you"

The woman moves quickly, retrieving her tape and something to write on, while you are shedding the coat, pants, and boots off, leaving only the shirt on.

When she comes back you see her grimace and reach out for the shirt, out of instinct you slap her hand away, the terror in her eyes growing and becoming a burden that makes her freeze in her spot, making you feel a bit of guilt for causing her to do that face. "...Im sorry, I don't feel comfortable with people seeing me in my underwear"

Sabina only nods, trembling hands reaching out to start the process of taking every measurement required to make your new clothes, taking a second you jolt down each number and asking you what kind of fabric you would like for the pants and shirts, if the apron will need pockets and how many, any special requirements she should be aware of.

"Cotton undershirts" you blur out, avoiding to look at Sabina "I...need undershirts that are of a soft material" unconsciously reaching to touch your left side, the woman seems to understand, adding the undershirts to the list.

"I will have everything in the next four days if that's ok with the Lady, if not, I could have it done by tomorrow morning"

"No...four days is ok, how much do I owe you?" you ask absent-mindedly, dressing quickly to avoid losing any more body heat.

Sabina, who was halfway through putting her take away, stops to look at you, an uncomfortable expression on her face followed by a forced smile "I'm just pleased to serve the Heisenberg house, my lady"

You begin to protest but Sabina starts to push you out of the door, talking over you loudly, repeating like crazy how honored she feels, and for you to have a nice day, slamming her door shut and leaving you confused out in the snow.

This time, people avoid you, ducking their heads down, bowling lightly, and muttering praises to have someone from the Heisenberg house come to the village, but all of them speak with reverence, terrified of your existence. Miranda made you feel like a thing and these people make you feel like if you could kill them where they stand any minute now, like you are above them and more important. It's disgusting.

"Did you had a good time with the villagers, miss Y/N?"

"No!? Duke, it was horrible, the way people looked at me like if I was either a God or the Devil himself, it gave me your creeps" you are so lost looking at the crates, sacks, and bags that you have to carry back, that you don't notice him twistedly smile at you "What is wrong with these people?"

"We all need to believe in something, this village, just happens to believe in the protection and love of Mother Miranda and her lords and ladies, divine beings on Earth, but you might be right, perhaps it's not a godly figure what they're chasing after, but the devil" this time you do see him smile, the jolly man from last night is gone, replaced by a being of mischief and secrets that makes your skin crawl.

Hurriedly you pick up everything and balance it all in your arms, finding a way to trust the bag full of lei into his waiting hands and bolt it back into the fabric, distantly hearing him laugh over the sound of your pounding heart.

You only stop right in the middle of all the four statues you saw that morning, uneasiness nestling inside you...just what is going here? what are the lords of this place and why is everyone so panicked by them? why would anyone feel love for a monster like Miranda?

Wondering, if you did the right thing by making a deal with Heisenberg, knowing, he might be the devil incarnate.

#re8 #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #the many joys

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kidney9-9 · 4 years ago

Text

Weekends [Peter Parker x Reader] - Part One

Hey there! I hope you enjoy this oneshot :) I started writing this, going to go to a fluffy route and then it got sad and angsty lmao! That's why I'm planning on writing a second part to this! Thank you very much for reading :) I do not own the gif, credit to the creator.

This oneshot is set in the future, and everyone is alive :) The days in this oneshot is just Saturday and Sunday to clear things up!

Peter Parker x Reader (Angst) Warnings: swear words and kissing Word Count: 2.2k

Every weekend was put to good use.

This weekend though, you were bored and upset. Peter was supposed to be in the city yesterday, and he sent an apology, explaining that the meeting’s been extended out for at least another day. You rolled your eyes at the thought.

You didn’t like the idea of Peter following Stark’s footsteps, because you knew how much work it would be. All that business, and the Avengers, you didn’t really like it.

You’ve met Stark before, and he gave you a terrible impression. The way he greeted you as if you were just a little fly in his office made you so angry for weeks.

Peter made it one of his priorities to see that you two were to never meet again after you poured coffee onto one of his computers.

The phone buzzed in your hand, and you bit your lip, contemplating if you should answer it since it was Peter. You were still sad he couldn’t have just excused himself from the meeting. From what you could tell, it was something about a deal falling apart in Japan, but you knew Stark would probably fix whatever the issue was.

“Yeah?” You answered, rolling your eyes when you heard Peter’s automatic apologetic sigh. It was something you loved and disliked at the same time. He was always so… quiet compared to you. You were open, truthful, loud, stubborn, and Peter was a bit of the opposite. You knew he’d hide the truth from you about somethings, but it wasn’t really a big concern to you.

“I’m sorry babe, about my message. I think I’ll be back by like 10 tonight though. I know we always have like a date night or trip on weekends, but I think I’m too tired for a big thing. Is that alright?” Peter responded, and you could hear people mumbling in the background.

You laid back down into the couch, pushing your lips to the side feeling a little guilty. You didn’t like how he had to ask permission or say things to ask you if it was okay to do or not do something. You weren’t controlling, but Peter had some vocabulary or grammar that made it sound as if you were.

“Yeah, it’s cool, you don’t need to ask that Pete. I’m sorry I’m being a bit of a bitch.” You responded, twiddling your fingers a bit now after putting the phone on speaker. You were just frustrated, and you knew what you were craving but you needed to push it down if Peter didn’t want to do anything tonight.

“You’re not. Hey – I actually need to get back, I love you. And if you’re too tired, you don’t need to stay up or anything when I get back.” Peter replied, and you could hear the bit of panic in his voice and the raise of volume of the others in the room. You hummed back to him, picking your phone back up.

“Love you too, see ya.” You hung up quick, knowing he needed to sort whatever just happened.

You had the blankets pulled up over your shoulder, facing away from the door when you heard it creek a bit. You rolled over tiredly, yawning, and trying to blink open your eyes. “Hey.” You muttered, feeling your throat scratch a bit from the sleepiness.

“Oh, it’s okay, go back to sleep.” You were quickly shushed by Peter and you giggled a little when you felt him kiss your forehead. You nodded back and closed your eyes, breathing in heavily to start going back to sleep.

Peter changed into his pajamas, too tired to have a shower. He couldn’t believe how today was so chaotic. There was so much happening, he didn’t know how to handle it. Once he laid down on the bed, he didn’t bother grabbing a blanket from you because he was feeling too hot anyway.

He didn’t know how to tell you that he needed to leave soon. He felt sick thinking about it because he knew it would be so long, maybe almost a year.

He wished he could bring you, but he didn’t want to push you into traveling to a foreign country with him. You were looking for a job here, and the two of you just moved in four months ago. He couldn’t put your life on pause for him.

Tony said it was urgent that Peter left on Monday. Something about a mission with Bruce Banner, and researching a mysterious reading one of the monitors caught somewhere in Northern Ireland. There were very possible threats and sending Peter there to protect Banner and the equipment was necessary.

He scooted closer to you, shaking his head from the distressing thoughts. He’d have to tell you in the morning.

“So, what did you want for lunch?” You asked, bumping into Peter purposely. You noticed how down he was feeling today, the look on his face made you confused. It wasn’t fun seeing him upset, and you tried talking to him about it, but he shook it off, saying it was alright.

“Does pizza sound good to you?” He replied, scratching his hair a little. You grinned back to him, nodding a yes. That sounded delicious, and that was exactly the food that you knew could cheer him up. You searched for the pizza place’s number on your phone, handing it to him.

“Your choice of toppings!” You laughed, in a singsong voice. He cracked a smile back to you, shaking his head at your silliness.

He pulled himself up on the kitchen counter, sitting and started to swing his legs. You chuckled at his actions, quickly going between his legs, and leaned up on your toes to kiss his chin. As you started to pull away, he pressed call on the phone, pushing speaker. He wrapped his legs around the back of you, bringing you back in.

As the phone started to call, you leaned up again, wrapping your arms around his neck to make him lean a little down to your lips. You giggled silently, kissing the corner of his lips, then glanced up to him again. You saw the bits of pink spread across his face as you stared down to his mouth again.

And finally, you glanced back to his eyes again, noticing they were closed now, waiting for a kiss. You took half a moment before you pressed your lips against his, and he instantly responded. He scooted closer to the edge of the table, as you kissed him deeper, spreading your fingers on the back of his head, playing with his hair.

“Hi welcome to Matt’s Pizza, may I take your order?”

You and Peter instantly shot apart, laughing silently at each other. Peter cleared his throat as you raised your eyebrows at him, grinning. “Hey, um, I’d like to order a large pizza, one side cheese, the other meat.” He responded to the guy over the phone.

“Okay, will that be all?” The person said, and you set a hand on Peter’s thigh, tilting your head to the side a bit, watching his reaction.

“Yep, thank you!” Peter rushed out, supplying the guy with your address. You giggled when Peter practically punched the phone to hang up, hugging you again.

You went straight back to kissing him, moving your hand back to his hair. You twirled it around with your fingers, and you smiled into the kiss, tugging his hair softly, as his hand scanned up your back. His hand slipped under your t-shirt, gripping your skin now.

As he pulled away for a breath, you sighed shortly, glancing away. “Peter, what’s happening with you?” You whispered, not wanting to see what he’d do. Whenever you confronted something to Peter, he’d always have this look on his face, and sometimes you could tell it was bad, other times you couldn’t.

“I just… There’s stuff that happened recently. And it’s really hard. I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. I’m sorry.” Peter didn’t even understand what was drooping out of his mouth. He went over this so many times last night, how to explain it to you but now in the moment he didn’t really know.

“What is it? Please tell me.” You mumbled, looking down at his shirt. You watched his chest rise and lower with anxiety.

“I have to go on a mission, or like an assignment. I can’t really tell you the details, it’s in Ireland though. I know it’s super far away- fuck.” Peter shook his head, feeling too distraught. He couldn’t say it. This isn’t what he planned, it was supposed to be easier, and he felt a huge lump in his throat.

“What?” You glanced up to him, eyes wide. No way, that couldn’t be true. It must be a prank, or a joke at least. He likes jokes, but you knew he wouldn’t do this type of joke, right? You shook your head, denying it completely.

“No what, funny joke! Okay now, you can say it’s fake…Right? It’s fake.” You quickly added on.

When he didn’t respond, your smile dropped completely, and you backed away slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t choose to make it happen, I’m sorry. I don’t know how long it’ll be.” His voice cracked, and you hesitantly put your hand to his face.

You cupped his cheek, as you watched his eyes go red, and you frowned back at them, shaking your head again. “Don’t cry, babe. It’s okay, it’s not your fault. When?” You mumbled back, trying to hold back your emotions. It was hard, but you couldn’t let him see how much this would hurt you.

You loved him, and if he saw you this upset, it would hurt him too.

“Monday, this Monday.” He responded, not understanding how fast this happened. He couldn’t get it, how the two of you were speaking about this. He thought you would be angry, and sad, but he couldn’t tell. You were being calm and quiet, and it was nothing like you. Especially for something like this, and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I can’t – what are you thinking about right now?” He asked, slipping his confusion into his voice.

Your thumb moved softly in circles on his cheek to comfort him. You felt numb, but so hurt that you didn’t know how to react. How could you both have such a happy moment before and then this happened?

You didn’t know how to answer. You cleared your throat slightly, “I don’t know.” You answered honestly, knowing if you thought about this anymore, you’d have something to say.

It was too difficult to process. Monday? That soon? It was tomorrow. And you couldn’t see him for a certain amount of time either.

“Fuck, Pete.” You groaned, closing your eyes when you realized how much time you have left. “We only have today to say our goodbyes?” You added on.

Peter nodded slowly, “Yeah, it’s… I’m sorry I put it off for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you. I don’t want to disrupt your life or anything when I go there, and I know we rent this place together, but don’t worry. I already thought it through, I can pay for however long you want to stay here if you’d like, um, and if I can talk Tony into it, maybe I can have some breaks to come here and see you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he stopped when he heard you sigh.

You pulled yourself completely away from him, walking to the other side of the room, needing space.

Fuck this, you thought.

You closed your eyes again, needing to silent your thoughts for now, and you didn’t even realize the tears running down your face.

“Y/n, please talk to me.” Peter spoke up, walking towards you.

“I’m scared!” You let out, surprising yourself. “I’m scared, what the fuck is this mission? Are you going to be safe? Ireland, Peter? What- what time are you leaving tomorrow? Can I come? Fuck, I don’t want to leave you. I’m in love with you!” Your voice kept raising in volume until you felt Peter’s hands on your shoulders.

He spun you around to face him, and his face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m in love with you too.” He whispered, whipping away your tears.

“Can I come with you?” You repeated your question, with more steadiness in your voice.

When he slowly shook his head, no, your shoulders slumped. He pulled you into a silent hug, as you sniffled. After a few minutes of hugging, you could feel a slight wetness on your neck, and you hugged him tighter, knowing he was crying along with you.

“I’m sorry.” You heard the heaviness of guilt and sadness in his voice, and you squeezed your eyes closed.

“It’s not your fault Peter. I understand it.”

He kissed the side of your neck, and you loosened your hug. You blinked away the rest of your tears, pulling your face to his. His face was all red, and his eyes were still watery like yours were. You kissed his lips as soft as you could, wanting to savior it as much as possible.

“I promise you I will come back as soon as I can. I love you.”pe

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #avengers fanfiction #thank you for reading! love ya'll #kidney9-9

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nikki-writes-stuff · 5 years ago

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At the Edge of the Woods (Werewolf!Steve x Reader)

Summary: When you move into a cottage on the edge of the forest, you’re ready to start a new life in a new, quiet town. But when you attract the attention of Steve Rogers, a man who everyone in town seems to dislike and fear, your world is turned upside down after he decides that you belong to him.

Pairing: Werewolf/Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Read part two here!

A/N: Hey, guys! So a couple warnings about this one: it contains stalking, a/b/o dynamics, non-con, dub-con, breeding kink, and a whole lotta sin. Also, this is my first time writing anything with alpha/omega stuff in it, so be kind! And let me know if you liked it or if there’s anything I need to work on when writing about this sorta thing. Thank you so much, and enjoy!

It was love at first sight. From the moment you laid eyes on the cottage, you knew it would become your home. The thing was tiny, barely any bigger than a shack, and it was a good fifteen minutes’ drive from the nearest sign of civilization. But you didn’t care; you were enamored with the thick layer of ivy that had overtaken the western wall of the structure, and there were huge bushes of honeysuckle growing along the edge of the forest just a few feet from the backdoor.

And when your real estate agent told you the price of the property, the deal was immediately sealed.

“You’re kidding,” you’d deadpanned. “That’s all?”

“Yep,” she’d grinned, clutching her binder of properties tight against her chest. “Quite the bargain, huh?”

“I mean… Yeah,” you’d laughed. “It must be too good to be true. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, structurally,” she began, “The plumbing is on the older side of things, but it passed inspection. Same goes for the heating and air conditioning. There’s been a bit of a rodent problem in the past, but the appraiser said that a few mouse traps should do the trick to take care of that.”

Her smile had fallen at that point, though, and she shifted on her feet as she considered her next words.

“What is it?” you’d prompted.

“Well… The thing is,” she said sheepishly, “The locals have this superstition about the woods in this area. People say that they’re, uh…haunted.”

“…Haunted?”

You were barely able to contain an amused grin from overtaking your face, and with a shrug you turned back toward the kitchen, admiring the view of the trees through the little window above the stove.

“I know, it’s pretty weird,” the agent chuckled. “But people around here really do believe it. Something about an urban legend. I will say, though, that coyotes and wolves are known to roam around at night, so that’s probably where the paranoia comes from. Just try not to go out after dark. And if you get any chickens or outdoor animals, I’d keep them inside a kennel.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I’m not exactly a farmer. I’m just looking for a place to settle down.

“And I think this cottage is the perfect spot.”

A month later, after the papers were signed and your possessions were moved in, you found yourself happier than you’d ever been in your new abode. You’d purchased house plants and artwork, designing the small space until it was exactly to your liking. You’d even decided to take up gardening, and your tiny back porch had become dotted with pots filled with flourishing herbs.

You fell into an easy routine. On Mondays, you would venture into town, picking up groceries from the local mart and picking up any other supplies you needed. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays were dedicated to your work; you were the owner and manager of a blog that had become an overnight success several months ago, and so you spent those days curled up in the cottage, typing away at your laptop and creating content.

The only strange thing thus far had been the town residents’ reaction to you. Everyone was friendly, of course, and they’d made it clear that small town hospitality was a value the entire population seemed to share, but you weren’t oblivious to the way they side-eyed you. No one ever looked suspicious, per se, more like…expectant. Like they were waiting for you to say or do something, though you had no idea what it could be.

Earl, the bookstore owner, was by far one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and after four weeks of the bizarre treatment, you finally asked him about it.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” he waved you off, sliding your new books into a paper bag. “It’s just that no one’s ever lasted long in that cottage o’ yours.”

“…Well, that’s a bit…unsettling. What happened to them?”

“Nothing,” he was quick to assure you. “Nothing bad happens to ‘em. It’s not like they’ve gotten hurt or anything. It’s just that, uh… Well. Strange things seem to happen in that part o’ the woods at night, and it’s scared the last couple o’ tenants off.”

“Huh… My real estate agent did mention something like that,” you admitted, starting to feel an irrational spark of apprehension. “What kind of things did they see?”

“Well… I don’t wanna scare you away,” he grumbled, scratching at his salt-and-pepper beard.

“I promise you won’t. I really like where I’m at right now. I’m just…curious, I guess.”

Earl seemed to consider it for a moment before giving in.

“Alright,” he sighed. “But for the record, I don’t believe any of the silly nonsense some folks ‘round here like to gossip about. This is a quiet town – a safe town. The only dangerous thing about this place is Mary Jo’s strawberry rhubarb pie down at the soda shop – I swear those things are the reason I got diabetes.”

You chuckled at Earl, and he gave you a warm smile before leaning towards you over the counter, propping himself up on his elbow.

“So, anyways, back to your house,” he started. “The last people there were this younger couple. They were nice kids – had just gotten hitched. But after a few weeks, they said they started noticin’ howls at night. Now, that’s normal for this area; we’ve got some wolves. But these howls were close, so loud that it woke em’ up most nights.

“Then, they started seeing people walking around the property around midnight. It coulda’ been that they were smokin’ some stuff they shouldn’a been smokin’, but they swore up and down that they saw naked men traipsin’ around. One time, there was one on their back porch, and the husband ran out to chase him off, but as quick as they saw him, he vanished.

“Again, I don’t know if I believe all of that junk,” Earl huffed. “But… the old lady who lived there before the couple said the same thing before she passed away, god rest her soul. And ol’ Lizzy didn’t lie about this sorta thing.”

You made a quiet hum of contemplation, nodding.

“Well,” you eventually spoke, “if I see any naked men hanging around, I have my handy dandy taser.”

A wide grin broke out over the older man’s face, and he reached over the counter to cuff your shoulder.

“Thata girl,” he chuckled. “I like it. And if you do see people hangin’ around on your property, give me a call, ok?” He fumbled around for a business card, eventually opening the cash register and pulling one out. “Call the bottom number if anyone gives you trouble, ok? I know I’m not the most intimidating guy around, but I keep a shotgun at the house just in case. And if the wolves become a problem, call the police. They’ll send some guys over from animal control to chase ‘em off.”

“Thanks, Earl,” you smiled, tucking the card into your wallet. “Oh, and before I forget, do you have any stationary? Letter writing paper, colored pens, that sort of thing?”

“I’m afraid we don’t. Oh, but Greg and Lou would probably have some. Try their art supply store; it’s right around the corner on the left side o’ the road.”

With that, you thanked Earl and walked out, clutching your paper bag of novels to your chest. You had to admit that the idea of wolves on your property was starting to scare you, but the thought of a naked guy just hanging out in the woods was enough to make you laugh to yourself. Even if it was true, you’d dealt with weirdos before. If that was the worst of your problems, then you’d be a happy camper.

You followed Earl’s instructions and immediately spotted a quaint store with a sign over the door reading “The Brushstroke”. Upon walking inside, you were greeted by the smell of paper and ink, and papier mache mobiles were hanging from the ceiling every few feet, dancing in the breeze that had flown in after you opened the door. Two men were standing behind the counter, sipping from steaming mugs of tea, and their heads popped up as you walked in.

“Hey, there!” one of them called, giving you a wave. “Welcome; come on in.”

“Hello,” you replied with a smile.

“We haven’t seen you around before,” the other man remarked, a kind smile on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be the new girl in town, would you?”

“Word spreads quickly, I guess.”

“It does when you live in a town like this,” he nodded. “I’m Lou, by the way. And this is my husband Greg.”

Greg nodded in greeting, and you gave them a wide smile.

“It’s nice to meet you guys.”

“Likewise, hon. Can we help you find anything?”

You told them what you were looking for, and they instructed you towards the back of the store, where you found a wall filled with rows of neat packets of paper right next to a cubby of pens of all types and colors. You took your time in making your selections, not even noticing the door of the shop opening and closing; it was only when you heard Greg and Lou’s quiet conversation come to an abrupt halt that you glanced around the corner to see what was going on.

Your eyes widened when you saw the man standing in front of the counter; he was tall, maybe a few inches over six foot, and built like a tank. A thick, well-groomed beard adorned his face, and his hair was on the longer side, curling just past his ears in thick, easy waves. Despite the chilly weather outside, he was only dressed in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and you watched his biceps bulge under the fabric as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“…Steve,” Greg finally said. “Long time no see.”

The man – Steve, evidently – nodded his head as he approached the counter.

“Wh-what can we do for you?” Lou asked, seeming to shrink back as he walked towards them.

“I need a new sketchbook,” Steve mumbled, almost too quietly for you to hear. His voice was deep, resonating, and something about its gravelly edge made goosebumps rise up over your arms.

“You know where to find ‘em,” Greg stated after clearing his throat. “Just get whatever you need and go.”

It looked as if Steve was about to say something, but after a pause, he just nodded, ducking his head and turning directly towards you. You stiffened as he grew nearer, feeling an unexplainable urge to turn and run away from him, but then his eyes met yours, and you were frozen in place.

Blue irises stared directly into you, and you watched as surprise washed over his features. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in through his nose, and you swore that you saw his pupils dilate as he looked you up and down. When his gaze finally met yours again, and you stumbled back a step, stunned at the look on his face. It was as if he knew you.

But that couldn’t be; you’d never seen this man before. If you had, you definitely would’ve remembered him.

“I-I…” you stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, but all of a sudden you were broken out of your strange stupor. Fixing your eyes firmly on the floor, you turned and blindly grabbed the first stack of papers that your extended hand came in contact with. You did the same with the pens, grabbing a random pack before turning on your heel and heading towards the front.

Or, rather, heading directly into a broad, firm chest. You hadn’t heard any footsteps, but while your back was turned Steve had apparently stalked up behind you, and now you were so close that you could smell the distinct scent of pine wafting off of him. Pine and…something else, something musky. It made your mouth water and your eyes flutter shut, and you could have sworn that you heard a deep growl sound from his chest.

The noise startled you so badly that you dropped everything, even your paper bag from Earl’s, and you felt as if your entire body was trembling as you turned away. On unsteady feet, you walked back to the front, glancing at Greg and Lou out of the corner of your eye as you headed towards the door. Lou was watching you with a concerned expression painted across his face, but Greg was still staring Steve down, as if he were sizing him up.

The cold, early-spring wind hit you square in the face once you exited the store, and it sobered you up enough to cease your nervous trembling. There was still a sense of blind panic, though, a deep-seated fear that drove you to march over to your car without turning back.

As you peeled out of your parking space and sped towards your home, you slowly began to calm down, taking slow, even breaths to slow the frantic beating of your heart. As you put more and more distance between you and the mysterious man from the art store, you found that, even later on when you were safe in your home, you still couldn’t rationalize why you’d felt the way you had. And that evening, when you were getting ready to go to bed, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.

Typically, you kept the curtains in your bedroom open, enjoying the sight of the forest laying just beyond the panes of glass. But tonight, before going to bed, you drew them shut before burrowing under the covers, hiding away from the lingering, unexplainable dread that had followed you home that day.

____________

You weren’t sure what had woken you. When you jolted out of your slumber, you were laying sprawled out over your mattress, your sheets tangled around your ankles. Everything was quiet, unsettlingly so. It was as if your cottage was holding its breath, waiting for something horrible to happen. The world was black beyond your windows, and the clock on your bedside table read 3:42 in the morni-

Wait.

The lingering tendrils of sleep within your brain melted away as you bolted upright, your wide eyes focused on your windows and the curtains that were neatly pulled away from them. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you slowly, deliberately, stood up from your bed, reaching for your phone blindly as you kept your eyes on the windows.

You drew the curtains closed as your thumb hovered over the emergency call button, and you gulped before turning towards your open bedroom door.

“H-hello?” you called out, voice still thick with sleep.

There was no answer, and you took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room. You were relieved to find nothing out of place; the kitchen, as well, was in perfect order, as was your tiny bathroom. You grew bolder as you searched your house, checking underneath your bed and inside of your wardrobe, but still you found nothing.

Eventually, you sauntered over to your back door, and that’s when you smelled it. Smelled him. The same scent that had flooded your senses back at the bookstore was thick in the air right next to the backdoor. You blinked rapidly, feeling a stirring in your gut as you inhaled it, and you gulped as you faced the door.

“…Steve?” you murmured, suddenly unable to make a sound any louder than a whisper.

Without realizing what you were doing, your hand came up to the doorknob, tracing the curve of it with your thumb. A tiny, experimental twist revealed that it wasn’t locked, and a small voice in the back of your head supplied that it was sure you’d locked it before going to sleep.

One more twist, and the door popped open, goosebumps rising up over your skin as the night air rushed over you. You turned on the porch light with a flick of your fingers and stepped out, wincing when the floorboards creaked under your feet. You half expected to see a naked man standing there just as Earl had said, but there was nobody.

You let out a shaky laugh, leaning against the doorway as your eyes flitted over the forest. You felt silly, getting all paranoid for no reason. With a small, sheepish smile, you straightened up and turned to head back inside, eager to climb back under your warm sheets and forget about the whole thing.

But that was when you saw it.

You stopped in your tracks and sucked in a deep breath as the wolf sauntered out from the tree line, its eyes focused directly on you just as yours were focused on it. Its fur was sandy and mottled with streaks of light brown and creamy white, and in the dim light you thought that you caught a flash of blue in its eyes. You took a step backwards as that same smell washed over you, and for a short, fleeting moment, you thought that there was something familiar about the beast.

It took another step towards you, and that was when you realized how massive it was. You’d seen pictures of wolves on the internet; you knew how big they were supposed to be compared to people. But this was another thing completely; this wolf looked to be the size of a grizzly bear, and you knew that if it were to stand up on its two hind legs, it would tower over you.

Abruptly, you broke out of your paralysis, blinking rapidly as you turned back towards your door. You heard a growl from behind you, but you ignored it as you fled back into your house, slamming the door shut and turning the lock back into place. A thud sounded on its other side, followed by the scratching of claws against wood.

You waited several moments, silently begging the animal to stop, but the thumping only carried on, accompanied by muted, distressed whining. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your phone, punching in ‘911’ and holding the device up to your ear.

“911, where is your emergency?”

“U-um… I-I’m at 432 Nottington Lane. Please, there’s this, this wolf outside and it’s trying to get it, and…”

As you spoke, the noises suddenly stopped. You paused, frowning at the door and straining your ears. But everything had once more gone silent.

“Hello, ma’am? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m still here. Um… I think it’s gone now. It’s… Yeah, it’s gone. I’m really sorry to bother you guys. Just, uh… Just ignore this call, please. I’m sorry.”

You hung up and set your phone down on the kitchen counter, staring hard at your back door.

“…Shit.”

_______________

You didn’t close your curtains again after that night. You told yourself it was because there was no reason to, that you had nothing to hide yourself from. But, in the back of your mind, you knew that it was because you were too afraid of waking up with them open of someone else’s accord.

Two days went by with no further incident. You kept up with your little routine, throwing yourself into your work and acting as if you weren’t still shaken up from the ordeal. You called Earl and let him know you’d seen a wolf, just like he’d said, and the two of you had laughed over the scare it had given you. But the laughter didn’t reach your eyes or your heart, and it was still hard for you to fall asleep whenever night came around.

On the third day, though, you decided that you needed to get out. Every time your eyes strayed to the forest, you felt a pinprick of anxiety, and you were desperate to forget about what had happened. And so, dressing in your most comfortable leggings and oversized sweater, you ventured out into town, stopping for breakfast at the soda shop.

Mary Jo’s Soda Shop had been open and owned by Mary Jo herself since before you were born. It was located right in the center of town, and it was the closest thing to ‘busy’ that the small township’s population could be capable of. The front porch was lined with old, worn rocking chairs, and empty planter boxes sat beneath every single window; you were sure that they’d be overflowing with petunias as the weather turned warmer.

The atmosphere was warm and cozy as you stepped inside. People of all different races and walks of life found solace under Mary’s roof, and it was clear by the easy smiles, easy laughter, and easy conversation that pervaded the dining room. A teenaged girl, who you’d later find out to be Mary Jo’s granddaughter, showed you to your table and took your order, and as you settled down into the cracked-leather seat of your booth, you found yourself finally relaxing.

It was easy to get lost in your own thoughts, especially with the dull roar of voices and the soft sounds of country music playing over the radio as background noise. You stared off into space as you sipped your orange juice, content to just zone out for a few moments and let your brain go on autopilot.

Maybe that was why it startled you so much when a man abruptly slid into the seat across from you. You were pulled out of your revelry by a dark shadow suddenly appearing in your peripheral vision, and your initial fright only deepened when you looked up to see who it was.

“Steve…”

The man from yesterday was staring you down, dressed this time in a red and black flannel. His hair, too, looked like it had been combed out, and his beard was shiny and soft-looking, as if he’d rubbed oil into it that morning.

You didn’t know what to say as he sat across from you, his fingers laced together on top of the table, and for an uncomfortably long moment, the two of you were completely silent.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, and you arched your eyebrow at him.

“Why do you want to know?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he let out a long sigh through his nose. He didn’t answer your question, and you started to shift in your seat as he continued to stare.

Finally, you told him, murmuring your name under your breath. Upon hearing it, he nodded, finally glancing up when your waitress came back to take your order. When her eyes fell onto the man seated across from you, she visibly paled, her mascara-lined eyes widening as her smile turned to a grimace.

“Mr. Rogers,” she said timidly, “my grandmother told you not to come in anymore-“

“It’ll be fine, Rosie,” he grunted. “I won’t cause any trouble; I’m just talking with (Y/N), here.”

Rosie looked over to you, and you blinked up at her, hoping your incredulity was showing through in your eyes.

“I… I’m not sure…”

Steve huffed and looked over at you, a predatory edge appearing in his visage.

“Go on,” he encouraged you. “Tell her.”

“I really don’t-“

Suddenly, his scent was flooding your senses once more, and you almost gagged on your words as you breathed it in. You wondered why Rosie didn’t seem to notice it as it washed over you, nearly suffocating in its intensity.

“I, uh…” Your voice trailed off distractedly, and Steve’s knee nudged yours under the table.

“I-it’s fine,” you finally managed to stutter, and a pleased smirk appeared over his features.

“See? Everything is fine,” he insisted. “Now, weren’t you coming to take our orders?”

Rosie hesitated, but finally she slipped a notepad out of her pocket and nodded.

“Perfect. I’ll have the sampler with crispy bacon. Eggs over easy. And, uh… a biscuit on the side,” Steve listed off.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, prompting you to jump a little before telling Rosie what you would like.

“Oh! Uh… I’ll have the same,” you muttered, though you hadn’t really been planning on eating anything of the sort.

But Rosie jotted it down in her notepad, all but fleeing to the kitchen after you were done speaking.

“And I’ll take some coffee!” Steve called after her.

When it was finally just the two of you, he once again gave you his full attention, and you fought to keep your mind straight.

“I don’t…know you,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know you, and you’re making me uncomfortable. Please, just-“

“I really liked the nightgown you had on last night.”

Your eyes bugged open, and your head shot up to look at him. You felt your blood run cold as he watched you with that same smirk he’d worn while ordering Rosie around, and you clutched your purse tighter to yourself.

“Wh…What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he insisted. “How are you liking living in that cottage? The last few people there-“

“What the fuck,” you interrupted. “You…you were watching me?”

He sighed at your interruption but nodded, leaning forward on his elbows.

“And you were watching me.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I never saw you, or I would’ve called the cops-“

“But you did see me,” he insisted. “While I was in my other form.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but then understanding came over you, and you shook your head.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You mean…the wolf?”

Steve nodded, looking up when Rosie came back with his coffee. She all but slammed the cup on the table, spilling a few drops of the beverage as she poured it. After shooting him a sour glare, she turned on her heel to attend to the other tables around you, the occupants thereof starting to notice who you were sitting with. The din of voices had gone just a bit quieter as they watched him, and you were starting to realize that the entire town knew who Steve was, and judging on the locals’ reaction to him, his reputation wasn’t on the favorable side of things.

“So… Let me get this straight,” you deadpanned, watching as Steve took a sip from his steaming mug. “You’re saying that you were the wolf I saw?”

He nodded, swallowing his coffee.

“I’m among the last of my kind,” he sighed, tapping his fingers against his cup. “At least in this area of the country. But, yeah, that was me, scratching at your door. I was honestly a little hurt by your reaction-“

“You’re fucking insane.”

A scowl overtook his features, and his hands tensed as his fingers went still.

“I would really prefer it,” he growled, “if you didn’t use that sort of language with me, Omega.”

“Ome- What?” You shook your head, unable to process how insane this man really was. “Ok, I’m done here.”

You grabbed your purse and stood up from the booth, but a hand clamped down on your upper arm as you made for the front door.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Steve insisted, and you felt fear course through you at how possessive he’d just sounded. “We have a lot we need to talk about.”

“Let go of me!” You tried to pull away from him, but you might as well have been struggling against an iron chain. Steve didn’t budge as he held you in place, and a whimper escaped your throat as he began pulling you to sit next to him in the booth.

“Steve.”

Both of you froze when you heard the voice, and you looked up to see three men standing over your table, frowning at the man who still had a firm hold on you.

“Steve, let the girl go,” one of them said, and you saw Steve’s lip curl out of the corner of your eye.

“Rhodey,” he grunted. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not long enough,” the man fired back.

For a second, you were afraid that Steve was going to ignore them, but then his grip on you disappeared. You hurriedly stood up again, backing away until you were out of arm’s reach from him. The entire restaurant was silent as everybody within held their breath, watching Rhodey and Steve stare one another down.

“This isn’t any of your business,” Steve said, and it was then that you realized you couldn’t wait there any longer. You didn’t care how it played out; you just wanted to get out of there.

And so, while everyone was distracted, you turned on your heel and slipped out, pushing past the front door, running past the rocking chairs and planter boxes, crossing the street without first looking both ways. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute, and you didn’t fully know where you were running to until you were standing in the entry way of Earl’s bookstore.

“Hey, there,” he called out to you, but his typical cheerful greeting died on his tongue when he saw your face. “What happened?”

Twenty minutes later, you and Earl were seated in his office. You’d told him everything, save for the way Steve’s scent affected you. You knew it was crazy, and you didn’t want one of your only friends in your new town to think you were as insane as your stalker.

“…Shit.”

It was the first word he’d uttered since you began telling him your tale, and he rubbed his forehead as he took in your story.

“Shit. I mean… I always knew there was something off about that Rogers boy,” he admitted. “But he’s never pulled anything like this.”

You quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at him.

“Why does everyone dislike him?” you asked. “It seems like the whole town has something against him.”

Your friend sighed and sat back in his chair, stroking his beard in thought.

“It didn’t used to be that way,” he started. “Steve, he grew up here. He was always the golden boy – never cursed, never acted disrespectful. Hell, he was a boy scout for years, and all throughout high school he was the team quarterback. He won so many games that he became a local celebrity.

“But, uh… Well. Shit hit the fan the day he turned 18.”

You frowned; you couldn’t picture the crazy, creepy man you’d just been borderline-assaulted by as a popular, polite teenager.

“What happened when he turned 18?” you asked.

Earl hesitated, wringing his hands. For a pregnant pause, he didn’t say anything, but finally he took a deep breath.

“Look, I don’t personally have anything against the guy,” he finally huffed. “But even I get the creeps when I’m around him. That boy, he was never the same after that fourth of July. Hell, the town hasn’t been the same since.”

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, and finally Earl began the story.

“Steve’s folks were a nice couple. He was their only kid, so each year, Sarah and Joseph would throw Steve this big birthday party. I’m talkin’ fireworks, barbeque, the whole nine yards. But his 18th birthday outdid them all; the whole town practically showed up for it.

“But Steve was off the entire day; I think he was sick or something. He was real sweaty, and his eyes were all…red. Like he’d been scratchin’ at ‘em. And when the fireworks started goin’ off… The boy lost it.

“It was like a flip switched in him; next thing we knew, he was takin’ off into the woods, holdin’ his head like his skull was gonna split in two. His mama went runnin’ after him, and then his pops went to get ‘em after about five minutes or so when there was no sign of them comin’ back.

“After half an hour, we went searchin’ for ‘em, and it wasn’t till dawn that we found the three of them.”

Earl took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with a trembling hand as he recalled the memory.

“I was in the team that found his parents, and… Hon, they were butchered. The bodies, they were hardly recognizable. Big bites had been taken outta them; blood was everywhere. Another team found Steve about half a mile away, completely naked and shivering by the river.”

“Oh, my god,” you murmured. “That’s… That’s horrible.”

Your friend nodded gravely, but he wasn’t done yet.

“We all figured that it was a coyote that got ‘em,” he continued. “Or a wolf. But Steve… He was in shock, you see, so take what I’m about to say with a grain o’ salt. But all the way to the police station, he kept sayin’… He kept sayin’, ‘I didn’t mean to kill them… I didn’t mean to kill them.’

“O’ course, no one really believed him; it was clear that an animal had gotten to them, and this was Steve Rogers we were talking about. The kid had never said an unkind word to anyone. And his family got along great.

“A few years passed, and Steve was never the same, but we expected as much. Everyone was still nice to him, and he tried for a while, you know? But then Peggy moved into town.”

“Who’s Peggy?”

“She was this real nice girl – British. She moved with her family to the area. Shoot, she was a firecracker. Didn’t take any shit from nobody; the whole town fell in love with her. Including poor ol’ Stevie.

“When the two started dating, we were thrilled for ‘em. Steve was finally starting to act more like himself; you shoulda seen him. The kid was head over heels, and she was the same. About six months went by, and we really thought that they were gonna make it.

“But then…”

Earl swallowed thickly, eyes darting back up to your face before resting once again on his hands.

“Peggy was found one day in the woods, just like Steve’s parents – mauled, butchered…dead.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“No one saw or heard from Steve for years after that. The kid just vanished into thin air without warning. And so soon after Peggy’s death, well… You can imagine the rumors that started flying around about him. Five years went by, and that was when people started hearing and seeing strange things in the woods. And your cottage, it’s right by where the bodies were found; you can’t be more than a quarter of a mile from where they found Peg.

“Eventually, Steve moved back into town, though no one recognized him. He’d always been a skinny, lean kinda guy, but when he moved back, he looked like he does now. And even if he hadn’t changed so much on the outside, no one would’ve recognized the polite young man we’d all watched grow up in this new Steve. He was mean; I can’t tell you how many fights he got in at the bar, or how many times he lashed out at someone just to have an excuse to throw some punches.

“Whatever happened to his family and his girl, he’s never been the same since. And if he really believes what he told you earlier at the soda shop, then he’s finally lost his mind.”

___________

You spent the night at Earl’s house. He and his wife set up their guest bedroom for you, and as you and Sherry ate dinner, Earl called the sheriff. You listened in as he told him everything that Steve had done, including watching you the night before, and after ending the call, Earl gave you the sheriff’s number.

“He said to call him at the first sign of trouble,” Earl instructed. “And he said that he’s gonna head over to Steve’s cabin to have a nice, long talk with him. Don’t you worry; Sheriff Wilson is a tough son of a bitch, and he’s a great man. You’re in good hands with him.”

You thanked the couple profusely, and you were finally able to sleep restfully through the night, knowing that you weren’t alone. You didn’t even mind that you could hear Earl and Sherry’s snoring from all the way down the hall; you hadn’t had such a good night’s sleep in days.

The next morning, Sheriff Wilson stopped by after Sherry had served up breakfast, and you had to admit that you did feel better after talking to him.

“So I set everything straight with Steve,” Sam explained. “He said that he’d been drunk that morning at breakfast, and he admitted to saying some things that he regretted. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf, and he said that he would stay away from you from here on out, if it would make you more comfortable.”

“I’d be more comfortable if he moved to a different country altogether, but I’ll take it,” you’d joked weakly, coaxing a laugh out of the sheriff.

“Well, I’ll run it by him the next time we see each other,” he’d chuckled. “But for now, I think you’ll be just fine.”

After helping Sherry clean up from breakfast, you reluctantly got into your car and started back to your cottage, feeling your short-lived relief start to dwindle away as you approached your home. Who’s to say that Steve would stay true to his word? And there was something about the memory of him calling you ‘omega’ that didn’t sit well with you. You had no idea what that meant, but the conviction, the possessive, commanding tone in his voice still made shivers crawl up and down your spine.

Once you stepped into your cottage, you gave each room a cursory once-over, making sure nothing was out of place before plopping down onto your couch with your laptop. You were severely behind on work, and you needed the distraction to calm your nerves.

Before you knew it, the sun was starting to slip over the horizon, and as the evening turned to night, your eyelids started drooping. You’d finally managed to catch up on work, and although it took you until 9 o’clock at night, you were back on schedule with your blog.

Finally giving in to your sleepiness, you stood up and stretched before methodically going around to each door and window, making sure that they were all closed and locked. After once more checking that Steve wasn’t hiding in your wardrobe, shower, or backyard, you relaxed and went into your bedroom, changing into a flannel pajama set before crawling into bed.

Sleep came easily to you that night, but it didn’t stay for long.

_________

It was, once again, just after 3 in the morning when you woke up, although there was something different about this time around. There was an almost electric charge to the air, and it immediately made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You sat up in bed and looked around your room, and even though the curtains were still closed, just as you’d left them, you immediately noticed the smell.

Your hand fell onto your nightstand, blindly fumbling for your phone, but it wasn’t where you’d left it. Panic pierced through you, and you frantically reached for your charging chord, but it was no longer plugged into your cell. There was, however, something new sitting on your bedside table, and you flicked your lamp on to see clearly what it was.

Your blood went cold when you saw the paper bag from Earl’s, still filled with your new books, just as you’d left it in the art shop.

“I’d been meaning to give that back to you.”

A scream tore itself out of your lips, and your hand flew up to clap over your mouth as you turned to the man now leaning in your doorway.

Steve was watching you with an amused smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His hair was wild, and you noticed the way his chest rose and fell with quick, uneven breaths. He looked…unhinged, and Earl’s voice started ringing in your ears, telling you all the gory details about the deaths that had followed this man through his life.

“Steve, please,” you begged, pressing your back against your headboard. “I don’t know what you want-“

“Oh, c’mon,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you can put two and two together.”

With that, he pushed off of the wall and sauntered towards you, ignoring the way you trembled as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I read your blog, by the way,” he remarked. “I actually liked it; you’ve got a talent with writing.”

You gulped, not sure what to say as he turned to face you. For a moment, something flashed through his eyes, something other than the smug cynicism that usually dwelled there, but he looked away before you could get a good look at it.

“I’m sure Earl told you a lot of things about me,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry that’s how you had to hear them. But I’m not… I don’t want to hurt you. Honestly.”

“Wow, that really puts me at ease,” you grumbled. “It definitely makes the fact that you’ve broken into my house twice now totally ok.”

Steve huffed, and annoyance crossed his handsome features.

“Careful, omega,” he grunted. “I’m trying to be nice, here.”

You wanted to snap at him that he should really try harder, then, but you kept your mouth shut, knowing that you didn’t want to anger him if you didn’t have to.

“…Why do you keep calling me that?” you instead asked, and the fire in his gaze cooled just a bit.

“…I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he finally sighed. “And I can understand why this all sounds so crazy; if I were in your situation, I would probably think the same thing. But just… hear me out, ok? I’m going to tell you everything I know.”

You nodded, hugging your knees to your chest, and after another deep breath he began.

“I used to be normal, or so I thought,” he began. “I used to be like you; I didn’t know what was out there. I didn’t know that certain legends that we’ve all learned to accept as fiction were actually based on fact. But that all changed on my 18th birthday.

“That was the day that I first turned into a wolf.” Steve paused, looking pained for a moment, but after swallowing thickly he continued. “I had no clue what was happening to me. I just felt…wrong, like I was being torn apart from the inside. I fought to keep control of myself, but… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“People got hurt; I’m sure you’ve been told all the gritty details. But that wasn’t… It wasn’t me. I tried so hard, so goddamn hard, to keep it inside, bottled up, but eventually I couldn’t hold back anymore. And that was when I left.

“I went looking for people like me. It took me a while, but eventually I found a small group of them in New York. They called themselves the Howling Commandos.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“Not the name I would’ve chosen, but they were good people. They helped me control it, taught me how to remain myself even when I’m in my other form. And I learned more about what it means to be a, uh…

“Werewolf.”

You bit your lip, staring at him as you grew even more fearful; he believed this. You could tell by the way his eyes were glistening with barely-contained tears, and if you weren’t so terrified of him, you would feel sorry for how sad he looked.

“Steve, you… you must realize that this is hard for me to believe, right? I mean… This isn’t Twilight; this is the real world.”

He rolled his eyes at the mention of that book.

“There’s about a thousand things wrong with that fucking story, and I’ll die mad about it,” he muttered under his breath, and you hugged yourself tighter as he stood up.

“You want me to prove it to you? Fine.”

Steve stood still for a long moment, closing his eyes, and you found your gaze straying to the door behind his back. He was distracted, evidently focused on transforming into a fucking wolf, oblivious to you as you slowly moved to set your feet on the floor.

Now is your moment, your brain whispered, and after taking a deep breath, you leapt to your feet. You didn’t notice the way his skin was slowly starting to grow patches of blonde fur, nor did you register that his voice had become more of an animalistic growl as he realized that you were trying to run. You were solely focused on making it out alive.

The back door was closer to you than the front, and you could practically feel Steve’s breath on the back of your neck as he gave chase, and so you nearly yanked the door off of its rusty, old hinges as you went flying out onto the back porch. You just barely managed to close the door behind you, and right before it slammed shut, you were able to make out an open maw filled with sharp teeth. The same thumping you’d heard several nights ago sounded from within your home, but with the way the wood was creaking and splintering, you knew it wouldn’t keep Steve trapped inside for long.

You began to run towards your car, but with a curse you realized that your keys were still resting on your coffee table inside the cottage, and you wouldn’t go back inside there if someone offered you a million dollars to. So, fully aware of what a terrible idea it was, you started running down the length of your gravel driveway, the small stones and twigs digging into your feet until you felt them starting to grow slick with blood.

You didn’t get far at all before you heard the sound of a low, deep howl split the silence of the night, and you pumped your legs even faster when you heard heavy footfalls starting to give chase behind you. Frantically, you turned and made a beeline for the forest, hoping to lose him in the woods. Low branches and brambles clawed at your face, and the cuts on your feet burned so bad that tears started rolling down your cheeks.

It was simultaneously an eternity and a millisecond before you felt a massive weight crash into you from behind, and with a cry you fell onto your belly. Your arms and legs scrambled about as you tried to crawl away, but you stopped with another scream when a set of impossibly sharp teeth nipped at your shoulder. Even though they didn’t cut deep, it was still enough to scare you into submission, and you immediately went still as your captor panted above you.

Your chest rose and fell as you fought to catch your breath, but it felt as if your heart had stopped beating entirely when you chanced a look to your right and saw…a paw. A huge, sandy-blonde paw about the size of your head was planted in the mud right next to your neck. You turned, and on your left side was the same thing.

Slowly, you rolled over onto your back, and you found yourself face to face with the wolf from before, only this time, you were close enough to see its blue eyes clearly – Steve’s eyes.

“…Steve?” you breathed.

Before your disbelieving eyes, the animal hovering over you started to shift and change, morphing gradually back into the man who’d terrorized you so much up to this point. Except now, as he straddled your hips, completely nude, you knew that he’d been right all along.

“Still think I’m crazy?” he panted, still out of breath from the chase.

“I… How…”

“I tried to tell you,” he grumbled, leaning down. You squirmed when you felt him press his nose to your neck, nuzzling it as he inhaled deeply, and you whimpered when his cock twitched against your thigh. “God, you have no idea what your scent does to me.”

You made a small noise of protest when his tongue darted out, laving over a spot right under your jaw.

“I thought it was too good to be true, you know,” he groaned, and you let out a noise that was dangerously close to a moan as you realized you could smell him once again. “I thought that people had to be a werewolf to be an alpha or an omega, but as soon as I smelled you in the art shop… Fuck, I knew you were mine.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to protest, but you were silenced when Steve nipped at your neck.

“We both know that’s not true,” he chided. “We both know what my scent does to you.”

Steve dragged his teeth down the side of your neck, and you shivered at the sensation. You wanted to fight this; you didn’t want to give in to him. But something inside of you refused to do anything but lay there beneath him, panting as he tasted your skin.

“I’ve never been with an omega before,” he confessed. “The Commandos told me they were incredibly rare, a dying breed just like me. But fate must have brought us together for a reason.”

“I’m… I’m not an omega,” you insisted, but a soft mewl fell out of your lips when he ground his hips forward, the line of his cock sliding up the length of your clothed pussy.

“Then why do you have a mating gland?” he rasped, his tongue darting out to lick at a spot on your neck.

“A what?” you squeaked, but suddenly his hands were on your hips, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. His palms groped your ass, and suddenly you felt your pajamas being pulled down until they pooled around your knees.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Steve growled.

No, no, no. Your thoughts were swirling rapidly as Steve’s fingers slid down your spine. You didn’t want this; you weren’t an omega; Steve was crazy.

Why does your body want this so bad?

You couldn’t find the strength to try and crawl away when Steve’s hands left you, but your eyes widened when he suddenly spread your legs wider apart. The cold night air was icy against your cunt and your thighs, and when the warmth of his hands finally returned to your body, you couldn’t hold in your moan.

“That’s right, omega,” he panted, his hand reaching down to cup your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet; it’s already dripping down your thighs…”

Your pussy made an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as he pushed his finger inside, and your body’s reaction started drowning out your brain. As he thrust his finger in and out, your hips started pushing back against him as white noise echoed in your ears.

“Mmm,” you whined, clenching your teeth. “M-more, fuck-“

“More?” Steve cooed. “You want more?”

You nodded your head, and a gasp parted your lips as he added another finger, curling it in a way that had you seeing stars. Your legs spread wider, and you dropped to your elbows, pushing back in time with his hand.

“This is what you need,” he growled. “You need your alpha to take care of you, don’t you? To use your pretty little cunt and fill you up with my seed. Ain’t that right, doll?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, feeling your walls start to flutter around him.

All too soon, though, he pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. You burrowed your face into your arms and whined at the loss, but a few seconds later, Steve was gripping your hips. You could feel his fully hard length against your ass, and your breath caught in your throat upon feeling how big it was.

“W-wait-“

Steve shushed you, tangling one of his hands in your hair as the tip of his cock glided through your folds, brushing against your clit.

“It’s ok, omega,” he whispered. “Just lay back and take it.”

With that, his head pressed against your entrance, and your lips parted in a silent scream as he impaled you. Your cervix ached as his dick pressed against it, and you were vaguely aware of the broken moans falling out of your lips.

“Fuck, doll,” your alpha breathed, and you felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. “Feels so good, so fucking good. My good girl…”

You groaned when he drew his hips back and thrust forward again, jarring your whole body with the movement. Your teeth clenched together as he found his rhythm, the initial stretch still burning. You’d never felt anything like this before, and the pain was mixing with your pleasure until you couldn’t tell one from the other.

Slowly, as the minutes went by, your abused cunt started to adjust, and your moans became less and less strained as you once more felt pleasure start to crest within you.

“That’s it,” Steve praised, pushing your hair away so he could press a kiss to the side of your neck. “Just relax; let your alpha make you feel good.”

You whimpered as he started thrusting faster, his hips snapping as deep, gravelly growls spilled out of his throat. Your own moans filled the air as you once again felt your orgasm build up inside of you. Your pussy walls contracted and fluttered as you got closer and closer, and Steve’s hand came down hard on your ass.

“Go ahead, omega,” he commanded. “Cum for me; don’t hold back. Give it to me; let me feel it. Cum for me-“

With a wail, your body did as it was commanded, and you trembled as you reached your climax. Your cunt squeezed his cock as he slowed his thrusts, and your hips moved of their own accord as you rode it out. Quiet, hoarse moans were still trailing out of your mouth as you came down from your high, and Steve’s beard tickled your skin as he pressed kisses along the curve of your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he praised, and you were sickened to realize that you enjoyed his words of encouragement.

You were surprised when he pulled his cock out of you, and you allowed him to flip you over onto your back. His cheeks were flushed, and he was panting, and your eyes trailed down to see his cock still painfully hard.

Without warning, he shoved it back inside of you, and your hands flew up, digging your nails into his back as he once again started thrusting at a brutal pace.

“’M gonna fill your fucking pussy up,” he was moaning, his hair falling into his eyes while his mouth hung open. “Gonna breed you like the little bitch you are-“

Despite having just cum, shocks of pleasure spread through you as he filled you, and in this position, you could watch his muscles bulge and flex as he chased his release. His eyes were squeezed shut, and one of his hands was pawing and kneading at your breast as he used the other to support his weight. The veins in his neck throbbed as he grew closer and closer, and you were taken off guard to find that you were approaching your second climax with him.

“You already gonna cum again, baby?” he whispered. “Do it. Give it to me; I want it.”

You closed your eyes and arched up, frenzied moans of yes, please, God, more, I need more, spilling past your lips almost unintelligibly. You were so close – just a little more and you would be pushed over the edge.

Just before you could reach it, though, Steve’s eyes snapped open, focusing on your neck hungrily. You should have felt fear, knowing what he was, what had happened to his parent and his last lover. But instinct took over, and you found yourself tilting your head back, baring your neck to him in a sign of submission.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, and you shrieked as his teeth pierced your skin, right where he’d claimed earlier your ‘mating gland’ was. You closed your eyes, expecting to feel your life fade away, ready to see blood spurting up from the wound. But that never happened; no, instead you felt as if you’d just been electrified. Every sensation you were feeling was suddenly amplified tenfold, and your vision went black as you came for the second time.

Your ears were ringing, but you were still able to hear the primal roar that Steve let out as he came, painting your inner walls with his seed as hips finally slowed to a stop. For several long seconds, the two of you were perfectly still save for your chests as they rose and fell with your heavy breathing. Steve’s cock began to soften inside of you, but he made no move to pull away. No, instead he collapsed over you, his head resting against your chest as his heated skin shielded you from the cold air.

“You were perfect,” you heard him whisper, and one of his fingers came up to trace the bite mark he’d left behind on your neck. “Your bond scar is gonna be so gorgeous, little omega.”

Sleep threatened to overtake you as you lay there, not truly processing Steve’s words as his weight atop you lulled you towards sleep.

“Go ahead and rest, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll carry you back home, and then we can go again. Don’t worry, doll; I won’t stop until you’re nice and round with my babies.”

You should have felt scared – you should have pulled away and ran into the woods. But instead, you let out a content noise of acknowledgement before doing just as he said. The last thing you registered before slipping into a deep, dreamless slumber was his arms as they wrapped around you and picked you up, carrying you away from the road and into the forest.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #dark!steve rogers x reader #werewolf #werewolf!steve #alpha!steve #omega!reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #werewolf au

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fanfic-about-fictif · 4 years ago

Text

Open book

Type: drabble/oneshot, 100% catboy fluff

Pairing: Sage Lesath x female reader

Words: 1781

Warnings: no warnings

This is my first writing about Sage and related to Last Legacy/Fictif stories, so let me know what you think! Maybe even give me some ideas if you like it, so I can write more?

Sage bursts into her room and - well, not her room exactly, but her room for the time being - and then he smirks, his eyes glistening with mischief, as per usual. She didn’t turn to look at him, as a matter of fact she didn’t even let him in because he didn’t bother to knock.

“I was just about to go shower and thought, we should shower together.”, he concluded simply, gazing at her body, while she was perched on the wide windowsill.

She didn’t even need to look up at him to see he was smiling wide.

“You know, for practical reasons. Obviously.”, he added.

She still didn’t look up at him, twirling her phone in her hands absent-mindedly.

“Practical reasons?” she questioned, but her heart wasn’t really in it, she barely registered his words.

“I can help you with the washing. Make sure you clean each inch of your body properly.”, his teasing tone would usually make her chuckle or groan. Maybe she would roll her eyes at him or even blush, but this time, nothing. Not even a witty remark.

Sage’s smile instantly faded. “What’s wrong?”

His worried voice seemed to snap her out of it and she finally glanced up. Upon locking eyes with him, she faked a smile and shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

He walked over to her, made her scoot up the windowsill with a sweep of his hand and then sat down. Her phone was set aside on the windowsill and she brought her knees to her chest, enveloping them with her arms.

“Why were you looking at...”, Sage pointed at her phone. “...Whatever that is?”

“It’s a phone.”, she said. “You can call people with it, no matter how far away they are, or even send them messages, or also-“

“Not what I was asking.”

She sighed, resting her chin on the top of her knees. “It’s dead, anyway. Not working anymore.”

“It’s dead since you came here?”

She nodded, looking out of the window.

“You wanted to call somebody?” Sage asked hesitantly.

There was a brief pause as he noticed her eyes glistening.

She faked a smile again as she looked at Sage and he decided he absolutely hated that. Her eyes looked so sad, even though he could notice she was trying so hard to hide it. The sunlight from outside hit her face perfectly, making it shine and illuminate in a way that left Sage mesmerized. He loved those moments; when she wasn’t even aware how beautiful she is.

“Tell me what’s wrong. Why won’t you talk to me?” Sage’s voice got softer, gentler than she ever heard him, but she couldn’t concentrate on that now.

“Must be because you’re an open book usually as well.”, she retorted, but even then he could hear she’s in pain.

Sage sighed, leaning back on the wall, thinking of ways he could make her talk. “How about I tell you something you want to know about me first and then we can talk about what’s wrong with you?”

She perked up at that and stared at him incredulously. “What?”

“Ask me something. Anything.”, he suddenly got tense and not even the grin on his face could hide it.

“And you’re gonna answer?” her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Sure.”

It didn’t sound very convincing, but she knew Sage wouldn’t back out of it now. At least, she hoped he wouldn’t. She thought about it for a few seconds, looking through the window again.

There were so many questions that she wanted to ask, most of which Sage avoided already or would avoid if asked. This was her one opportunity. But, she also didn’t want to make him too uncomfortable or steer the conversation that would end in their fighting or make Sage run off as usual. So, she decided to steer clear of any questions pertaining the current events. She would save that for another time. Now, she just wanted something to distract her from all the problems.

“I can hear the gears in your head turning when you’re thinking this hard.”, Sage grinned.

She faced him and looked him straight in the eyes. “Have you ever been in love?”

Sage looks shocked, like he was at least vaguely prepared for any question but this one. To say he wasn’t expecting it would be an understatement. But, he quickly regains his cool exterior under her scrutinizing gaze. She was watching his reaction and every move. He suddenly smirks, catching her off guard in turn.

“Why are you curious about that? Looking to fill that position?” he winks, grinned wide again.

She rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known you were going to deflect that one too.”

Looking annoyed, she hastily stood up to leave, but Sage caught her wrist. “Wait!”

She looked over her shoulder at him and glared.

“I’m sorry.”, Sage sounded sincere. “I was only messing around. I’ll answer, as promised.”

After a second of hesitation, Sage gently pulled her towards him to sit back down. She did, resuming her previous spot and position.

“I…”, Sage started, looking through the window because he couldn’t bear looking at her piercing eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.”

“Really?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Sage furrowed his brows. “Is that so bad?”

“No! I…”, she cleared her throat. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. Considering…”

She trailed off, not finishing her sentence, and immediately regretted even starting it and going down that path.

Sage turned his head to face her, looking half-confused and half-annoyed. “Considering what?”

She was uncomfortable, starting to blush, and it was her turn to look away from him. “Nothing, forget it.”

“Considering I’m bedding lots and lots of women?” he concluded with a mocking voice and then huffed.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sage shot her a look and she sighed. “Fine, I kinda did.”

“Is that really bugging you so much?” Sage asked quietly. “Do you think I’m a bad person because of it?”

She giggled. “No, don’t be silly, Sage. I don’t condone your… Promiscuous lifestyle.”

“Promiscuous lifestyle?” Sage grinned, but she ignored him.

“How is it possible that none of those women made you feel something?”

“Oh, they all made me feel something.”, Sage’s lips split into an even wider grin and she could sense a flirty comment before he even said it. “If you want, I can show you.”

“Sage.”, she rolled her eyes.

He laughed at her. “Sorry, I’m done.”

She shook her head at him but couldn’t help but chuckling along with him.

“I just…”, Sage breathed out heavily, his shoulders dropping. “I did, develop… Uh, some feelings towards some. But, uh…”

It was absolutely adorable seeing him so flustered and lost. But, he was trying. He was opening up and telling her stuff, and she was grateful for the effort.

“Didn’t really work out?” she offered and Sage nodded sombrely, looking away.

She decided to end his suffering, for now, at least. “Thank you for telling me, Sage.”

His ears twitched and perked up, before Sage smiled.

As if just now remembering, he looked at her with wide eyes. “Now it’s your turn.”

“My turn? For what?” she acted like she didn’t know what he was talking about, while they both knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Your turn to pour your heart out.”, Sage watched her curiously. “Who were you trying to call? Is there someone you’re in love with?”

She didn’t notice how much Sage was involved in that question, even though he asked it in a light-hearted tone. He prayed that he was wrong, that someone wasn’t waiting for her at home, down on Earth, and thinking about her the in the same way that he was. She couldn’t notice his breath catching in his throat as he waited for her answer, because she was looking down at her hands and nervously twirling with her fingers.

“No. There’s no one in that way.”, she replied quietly and Sage breathed out in relief. “I just miss my family. My friends. I wish I could let them know I’m alright.”

There were a few moments of silence as she tried to wipe off a tear that slipped down her cheek without Sage noticing. He did, of course. He moved closer to her, gently cupping her cheek and wiping another tear with his thumb. She had no choice but to look at him now, he was only centimetres away from her face. She didn’t know what to expect, but she surely wasn’t prepared for Sage’s intense stare, almost knocking the wind out of her. She leaned into his hand slightly and he glanced at her lips, plump and rosy. Sage wondered many times if they were as soft as they appeared.

“You have me.”, Sage whispered. “I know I can’t replace your family and friends, but…”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

As Sage got closer, she stopped breathing, bracing herself for a kiss. Instead, he pulled her into a tight hug. She put her arms around him as well, her heart humping wildly.

“I know I’m not enough to make you happy, but I’ll make sure you get home safe and that you see your family and friends who can truly make you happy.”, Sage said it so quietly, in such a small, worried voice, that she wouldn’t hear it if they weren’t pressed together in a hug.

She pulled away to look up at him and tears welled up in her eyes when she was Sage’s face expression.

“You’re more than enough, Sage.”, she admitted.

Before he could protest or say anything else, she slid her arms up so they were around his neck, pulling him closer to her so she could reach up and kiss him. She could feel his shock at first and contemplated pulling away and running off, but he responded before she could, by almost grabbing her and pulling her even closer. It didn’t take long before she ended up in his lap, legs wrapped around him, while the kiss progressed into a more intense and passionate one than the one they began with.

She pulled away first, breathing heavily and looking into Sage’s lust-blown eyes. “Wow.”

Sage chuckled. “Took the word out of my mouth.”

She rolled her eyes at the joked, giggling. She suddenly became hyper-aware of their bodies pressed together, so much that she could feel every ridge of his muscles and the leather jacket against her skin. Her hands were tangled in his silky hair.

Sage’s eyes were flirty and sparkling, and when he spoke, it sounded like a low rumble coming from deep inside his chest. “Now… How about that shower I mentioned before?”

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salcreus · 3 years ago

Text

So I'm no writer. I don't mean this in a bad way, I just can't write long texts or keep my attention on the plot that I'm writing.

Having said that, however, I've been thinking a lot about an AU where Impulse and Etho end up teaming up, and things don't seem to work as they should on the 3rd life server.... [AO3 LINK]

Pop. Crack. The taste of muddy, bitter water in your tongue. You’d figure that if you tried hard enough, you could even notice the hints of salt scattered throughout. But focusing on the little details in life are for people that have the time to do so- And you, Impulse, are

“-an absolute idiot.” “Whoah there buddy, all I did was help some people out on their business. Don’tcha think that having more cards at play is gonna help us out in the end?” The redstoner says in such a tone that almost feels acrid in the way that fruits rot, if left forgotten, yet poor phrasings and curses aside, they truly were words of a man that means no malice- a curse of playing so many sides, he’d assume, if he were in another time. What he gets in response is but a boneless sigh, one that is tired of the shapes and turns of life and death, the game that they always play but never win. - “Impulse, you know that I love having you around- I’ll go so far as to say that you are the only one I can truly trust around here. But you are making me have some second thoughts about that.” “About my loyalty? Oh come on, you know that you are my pal til the end of times!” “Do I?” Etho has a way with words, it seems. He doesn’t use expensive expressions, the ones that are far too costly for your own soul or mind- Nor does he try to seem something that he isn’t, that’d be too unnatural, even for someone of his stature. But something in his tone moves rocks and mountains if the man so desires, and oh boy does he desire that a lot. You could say that It’s the type of tone that tugs you relentlessly, even if your conscience is clear- it’s never enough to hurt, of course, Canadian costumes or something of sorts, but it’s enough to make you doubt your own self down to the last cell in your body. And that; is far worse than any heartbreak or ill mouthing. Impulse staggers a bit away from his machinery- a simple system that would cast a rain of arrows down to any intruders from the sidelines - and contemplates the question that had been dropped in the air. Does he? Etho wouldn’t doubt him so much if he did, that’s the logical conclusion to that pinpoint. Now onto figuring out why the sudden suspicion. “You do know that I’ve sworn allegiance to you, right? I’m not saying this to be nice, or to play the part, this is not a master plan to trick you and stab you from the back- Heck, I wouldn’t be fortifying your fancy castle if that were the case! Though I doubt that you’d need my help with the redstone side of things-” A slight frown waves upon the man’s face for a split second, and Etho would have probably told you he hadn’t seen a thing if someone were to ask, for sight can be deceiving, and so can the light, and the mind, and your thoughts. “Agh, just please know that I’m doing my darn best to make sure that we can be the winners! That’s the whole goal of me being buddy-buddy with the other teams, right? So that we can gather intel and be 5 steps ahead of them.” And he meant that so truthfully, so genuine and pure, for someone that was doing so much wrong. There was a moment of silence. Well, not true silence- The sloshing of water against hard wool, the wind kissing the crops good morning, the distant chattering of the sheep, it all played a song to fill the current void in this conversation, which was not halted by the need to come up with something more to speak, or the lack of subject, but yes by the need to figure out if both of them believed in this story. “Why are we doing this?” Impulse is taken aback by the shift in conversation- Etho is no person to bring doubt into the table like that, after all. To question others? That’s a fair game, albeit a bit torturous at worst- But to question his own purpose, just like that, out of the blue? Now that was a heavy rock thrown to the face. Thankfully not in a literal sense, though. “...What do you mean by that?” Is what he managed to blurt out in response. “The betraying, the killing, the alliances- all of that. I mean, fundamentally, we do know that we are doing this for ‘fun’ and to ‘wind-out’ ” - The white-haired figure makes sure to over exaggerate the quotation marks of his sentence, giving it such a grand gesture that it almost breaks the somewhat tense presence filling the air. It was nice to take a step back and to remember that, at the end of the day, Etho is

still just Etho, silly and well-meaning. - “We know it because it’s what Grian told us it is.” “So you’re implying that there’s something more to it..?” “I’m not sure yet. You can just call it a hunch, really. But maybe Hermitcraft just... Wasn’t enough for him.”

Silence lingers for a few moments longer, a bit too thick to be swallowed easily, but accusations like these just weren’t possible to digest with a light heart. Impulse, almost inspired by a feeling very fitting to his name, took a few steps forwards, taking in the comforting feeling that the floor of their castle provided, soon sparing a glance at the lava fortifications surrounding them. If he really tried, he could spot Tango’s killing game by one of the exposed gaps, which earned a small chuckle in response. If it was loving, or nervous, he would decide later. “So” - The (yellow themed) redstoner finally spat out - “Going off your logic there… We’re friends with a guy that runs off bloodshed and sadistic tendencies, a guy who has created, even fought, so many battles on the other server, yet felt the need to kick the violence up a notch- For… entertainment?”

In response, the other (more so blue themed, but does Etho really have a colour of his own?) redstoner walked closer towards the other man, each step carrying a moment of reflection. “Ehm- Maybe? I mean we always knew that’s the main point of what we are doing, I’m more so implying-” “Implying that his goals are beyond a couple of laughs and water guns between friends.” “Mhm.” “We don’t usually take such a long break from Hermitcraft, which might have been why he felt the need to create this game.” “Or maybe he was just tired of the pawns, so he traded them for new pieces…” Impulse coughs out another chuckle, but this time anyone that paid some mind to the man could tell the pain that it was carrying- It was almost a brand image at this point, a coping mechanism he had earned over the years. He would go as far as feeling a certain shame about it, at least in his darker hours- it’s hard to play the part if your true colours can pop out at any moment, after all. At that moment, he had come to the realization that he would be awful at poker. “...Either way, I do think that Grian is taking this too far. I don’t know about you, but I would rather not have to betray and kill my friends like this. In a lighthearted competition? Sure. But this is turning people into monsters, Impulse. It’s turning us into monsters, in fact.” He spares another sigh, his face twisting into a more pained expression - contrasting the usual cool facade that he kept around the server - , taking the chance to keep his words down to a mere whisper, almost as if to share the secrets of the world with Impulse, spells and curses for his ears only. It almost felt a bit special, in a way. “It’s not like I enjoy the idea of our friend being some sort of sadistic megalomaniac- And I promise you that I’ll eat my own words one by one if I’m wrong, cross my heart, hope to die-” - Worth to note that both of them shared their just as secret reactions to the phrasing used by Etho- The man of the minute with a scrunch of his nose, and the person looking at him with an accidental eyebrow twitch. - “...But I really need you to trust me on this one, Impulse. You know that I wouldn’t bring such accusations without a reason.” Pop. Crack. The taste of muddy, bitter water in your tongue. You wished that if you tried hard enough, you could preoccupate yourself with the bits of salt scattered throughout. Moments of self reflection and torturous analysis, little glances, short breaths, holding your head, holding your mind, holding your heart- Correction, your hearts. Holding simultaneously nothing and the idea of Nothing at the exact same time. You stare at Etho. He stares at you back. But, in the end, focusing on the little details in life are for people that can afford to do so. And you, Impulse, are- “-running out of time! So I guess we are going to call it a day here, folks! Please log out of the world as soon as possible.” The communicators scream, rudely buzzing out to all of the members present in the server.

#woop #impulsesv #ethoslab #impulse #3lsmp #3rd life smp #third life #third life smp #i have no idea what im doing :) <3 #i just #t #i jus dont write like this idk img jfdnfdggjfng pee pee poo #mcyt #oh yeah ah is this salty art #sure we can gonwith that #salty art #edit: added tags #salty writing

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emeraldbabygirl · 3 years ago

Text

N.Flying reaction to you being on your moon

So I decided to write a thing. I’m not sure if this is a reaction but I know it’s not a headcannon..at least I don’t think it is. And I wanna start with this one and from here on out write the titles at the top and fix any previous works that are framed like this so it looks better? I’m still trying to figure out how I want my layouts to look like. Btw for some reason tumblr is whack and it’s not showing me any gifs of N.Flying except for like five and they’re all recent from the Moonshot mv and it’s not what I’m looking for. It’s been happening with me a lot not whenever I search for a gif it only spits up a few and they are recent like everything else got deleted? Idk it could be a bug on my end or just tumblr doing its stupid thing so this reaction unfortunately won’t have gifs :( I’m sorry

Seunghyub: Seunghyub was a man that would come running to you at the drop of a hat. He was very gentle and understanding with you while you were on your moon and he loved showering you with cuddles and kisses in hopes it would cheer you up cause he knew how moody you could get. You came home from work and not meaning to sound like a bitch you grumbled at his friendly greeting. Seunghyub was too smart to frown as he knew you couldn’t help it. He followed you down the hall entering you room and then the bathroom to draw you a nice bubble bath. He figured the light might be to harsh if you had a headache so he lit a couple candles around and found you in your room attempting to crawl into bed with your work clothes still on. “Darling come here I drew you a nice bubble bath.” He said pulling you out of bed. You grumbled and attempted to fight him like a cat afraid of water. “Come on now you don’t want to sleep in your clothes. You’ll feel better after a bath huh?” You huffed in defeat as Seunghyub led you into the bathroom. Helping you with your clothes he held your hand as you stepped in the warm water. You immediately sighed and began relaxing. Seunghyub let you close your eyes as he gently washed your hair and scrubbed your back. “Thank you for this Seunghyub really. And the candles are cute.” You smiled warmly at him. Seunghyub hands are covered in bubbles but he still cups the side of your face to kiss you. “Anytime Darling.”

Chahun: For the most part you were calm as far as mood on your period but your cravings for random foods and your appetite always increased. Chahun has picked you up from work and you were passing every fast food place and restaurant in the universe. Well that’s what it felt like. “Hunnnnn I want fried chicken..or a hamburger. Look there’s a sushi restaurant right there let’s get something to eat pleaseeee” you whined pressing your face against the window. “It’s late love, we’re going home. I’ll fix you something then okay?” Chahun said. You appreciated and loved Chahun cooking for you but you wanted greasy food right now and you felt bad about him always cooking despite you knowing full well how to. “Chahun..don’t you think you cook too often for me? I mean..wouldn’t you like a break? Besides I really want to go out.” The rest of the ride was silent. You sat at the table in sweats and watched Chahun shuffle around the kitchen. You loved watching him cook you just felt bad that he was always doing it and even when you weren’t hungry he still insisted. You felt even worse when you were on your period. Chahun finished up and plated food for both of you landing a kiss on the top of your head before placing your food in front of you. “I know you want fast food and I know you think I cook to much for you but I think home cooked meals are better on your tummy, especially during your lady time. Also you are my girlfriend and I enjoy cooking for you as a sign of love. Now eat up and then we can do whatever you want for the rest of the evening.” You smiled taking a bite of food. Chahun was too sweet.

Jaehyun: Jaehyun always did his absolute best to cheer you up whenever you were having your monthly and most of the time he could get a smile out of you. Tonight though you were laying on the couch in tears from the cramps you were having and Jaehyun couldn’t seem to cheer you up. He tried jokes, dancing goofy, breaking one of his sticks on purpose but nothing was working, you were in too much pain. Jaehyun kneeled in front of you moving your hair away from your face so he could wipe the tears that were falling. “Sweetie I’m sorry you’re so much pain..is there anything I can do?” Jaehyun was sad seeing you like this. “Rip out my uterus please” you said. This sent Jaehyun into a laughing fit. The sudden outburst from him and seeing him roll around on the floor from how silly you were being put a small smile on your face but that went away when you got a cramp the felt like you got kicked really hard in the stomach. Jaehyun settled down and noticed your silent suffering. “Hey, let’s lay down on the bed it’s probably more comfy. I can make you some tea and..” Jaehyun stopped talking. You probably didn’t feel like getting up. Jaehyun decided to just sit with you and comfort you as best he good. He heated up a hot pack and placed it on next to your side. Running his hand through your hair helped you relax a little and the hot pack slowly started to help with the cramps. Jaehyun covered you up with a blanket as you drifted off to sleep and quietly cleaned up the living room.

Hweseung: Hweseung was use to how moody you were. He comforted you whenever you cried wheather it was cramps or you got sad, he bought you your comfort foods when you were hungry and cranky and he even put up with your random laughing fits. He knew how your emotions could get on your time of the month but he was confused this month as you kept initiating sex. You weren’t normally like this and poor Hweseung didn’t know how to go about it. “Fuck me Hweseungggg” you blurted out while you to were on the couch watching tv. Hwesung was so surprised he nearly spit out his tea. “W-what?” Hweseung said after catching his breath. Did he hear you right? “Come on I’m hornyyyy” you whined starting to attack his neck with your lips. “Babe, do you really feel like having sex right now? It’s messy and you might hurt more. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable..also you don’t want to get pregnant now do you?” Hweseung was very aware of the ovulation cycle and knew that today would be the best time to have sex if you were looking to make mini yous. “Yesss let’s make lots of babies please Hweseung. Fuck me I’ll feel better.” You said against his neck. Hweseung sat as you cuddled and crawled all over him. Hweseung himself wasn’t fond of the idea of period sex at all. He definitely thought it was a bad idea while you were menstruating but he didn’t want to upset you. After contemplating for awhile and going over the possibilities of you actually getting pregnant he decided he would go through with it. But he took to long as he could hear your light snoring as you must’ve conked out from exhaustion. Hweseung sighed in relief seeing you out with your head on his lap. You looked like a cat, it made Hweseung smile. He repositioned your head in a more comfy direction and rubbed your lower back while he continued to watch tv. He chuckled to himself at the thought of you falling asleep during sex. You were just too tired and you needed your sleep.

Dongsung: Dongsung was really good to you around your time of the month. He would give you hot packs if you were having cramps, cook for you or order anything you wanted, draw you baths or set clothes out for you after a shower. He would tend to your every need and you were thankful but he was always running around too much. “Dongsung,” you said coming out of your room after changing from your work clothes. Dongsung practically rushed to your feet with a concerned look. He was always so adorable it made you sad that he felt he had to tend to your every need. “Is everything okay babe?” He asked worry in his voice. You sighed. “Can we just watch a movie tonight. You always work so hard to help me and I just want you to stop and relax. Can we just have an easy night tonight? Please?” Dongsung nodded quietly and grabbed your hand and you both walked to the living room. “Can I still make popcorn though?” You smiled out how perfectly silly he was. “Yes of course, but hurry up please I wanna cuddle.”

I did Hweseung’s last so sorry if it’s kind of crappy towards the end. It took me two hours to finish this cause I was distracted from vibing to N.Flying lmao. Anyway I wanted to make this cause I’m in my N.Flying feels again and I just thought this would be a nice lil thingy. (Also side note I feel like Hweseung would be really sweet and neat during sex in general and even more so if it was period sex even though period sex is gross and messy but I just wanted to add all the aspects and things around your moon time)

#n.flying #seunghyub #lee seunghyub #cha hun #chahun #jaehyun #kim jaehyun #dongsung #seo dongsung #hweseung #yoo hweseung #n.flying fanfics #n.flying reactions #kpop fanfics #kpop reactions #fanfics #reactions

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phaticserpent · 4 years ago

Note

Could you write a fic of how Pan might react to a lost boy being a femboy?

Ooop, I hope you like it!

Small notice: I know I'm responding to a lot of Peter Pan OUAT asks, I'm just trying to clear up my inbox!!! I have Ultron asks towards the bottom that I need to answer! Thank you for being patient!

Times were changing and so were the boys, each one different than the last one. It took Pan a while to adjust to the changes and you helped him through it. But there were certain things that he still didn’t understand. You had been walking through the camp, checking on the lost boys when you heard a whisper. It was Carter and he beckoned you into his tent, you followed him inside secretly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. Carter sat down and you did the same, he was busy fiddling with his fingers.

“I uh...I had a question for you but it’s more of an opinion.”

“Yeah, shoot your question.”

“Do you think Pan would banish me if I wore girly clothing?” He asked and you paused. A part of you wanted to say ‘no, of course not’ but another part of you was uncertain. Pan was adjusting to the times, but you weren’t sure how he would handle it.

“Uh, do you want me to ask him?”

“N-no!”

“Okay, well....I would say go for it. He’s growing more understanding, but I’m not certain about his reaction. He might think it’s silly. Despite his reaction, I’ll be there for you and I’ll help him understand.”

“Thank you [Y/N].” Carter smiled.

"Yeah no problem! Clothing is clothing, right? It shouldn't matter what you want to wear." You smiled and left his tent, immediately catching Pan's gaze. He raised a brow at you and started making his way to you as you tried not to look suspicious. "Hey Pan!"

"What were you doing in Carter's tent?"

"Nothing." You rolled your eyes. "He was asking for help on something and I gave him my best answer. Nothing happened between us."

"Okay, I believe you."

"Thank you." You walked past him to grab your belongings, silently acknowledging Pan following behind you. "So Pan, tell me, do you think clothes have genders?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Do you think certain clothes belongs to boys and certain clothes belongs to girls?"

"Yeah." He raised a brow at you. "Why?"

"Well, I wanted to wear a suit." You shrugged. "Guess not."

"Love, you can whatever you'd like. I have no say in what anyone wears."

"Good." You smiled. You and Peter hunted dinner and carried it back to camp, while some lost boys managed to bring back fish and a boar. You congratulated them on their catch and started skinning the fishes. You hadn't realize anything was wrong until the lost boys were completely quiet, which caught your attention. You glanced up to see that everyone was staring at Carter, who just emerged from his tent wearing a skirt. Carter immediately walked up to you. "Wow! You look really good in that! Where did you get it?"

"I stole some of my sister's clothes before I left for Neverland." Carter smiled. "Do you really like it?"

"Yeah!" You grinned. Carter stuck to your side for the entire time but soon enough, the lost boys started to compliment Carter.

"Hey man, it looks really nice!"

"Wow! That color suits you!" And when Pan appeared in camp, the entire air felt thin and everyone held in their breaths.

"What's going on?" Pan asked. He got his answer when he made his way towards you and noticed Carter's outfit. "That's a cute skirt. Something special?"

"Y-yeah! You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"No reason." Carter beamed. Pan smiled, he seemed to contemplate and turned to you.

"Love, do you think I would look good in a skirt?"

"You have to wear one for me to decide." You smiled. Dinner went well and you could see Carter growing more comfortable. He smiled and gave you a thumbs up and you returned the gesture.

#peter pan once upon a time #ouat peter pan #peter pan ouat #phaticserpentfanfic #phaticserpent #ask response #ouat fandom #ouat fanfiction #ouat imagine

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eddsworldgt · 4 years ago

Text

Nightmare

Sooo...Here's the writing inspired by the last drawing I did. So it exists now. So you can read it now. Nnnngggg. Brain juice is empty.

Tord was fiddling with a few wires and a circuit board he had downsized to make it easier for him to mess around with. Tom was next to him, head pillowed in his arms, watching Tord. The borrower had recently been quite taken with bean technology, so Tom had been bringing him little bits and bobs that he found.

Tom moved abruptly, lifting his head, but Tord paid him no mind, focused as he was. Long, thick fingers suddenly encircled his body. He groaned, wriggling. With a scowl, the smaller man looked up.

“Tom, whah-!” He wheezed as the air was forcefully crushed from his lungs, coughing when he couldn’t draw a breath. A frightened glance at Tom showed a blank, dispassionate expression on his face. He shoved weakly at the solid knuckles, choking a gasp when his hands were pinned by a massive thumb.

“Hhh-“ Tugging to free his hands did nothing. “T-To-m-“ He-he couldn’t breathe-! He was inhaling but-there was no air-his chest hurt when he tried-he was gaping like a fish, he didn’t care, he needed to breathe-!

His vision was blackening-t-too much pressure-couldn’t hold his head up, stay upright- choking, gasping-coughing—

Harsh, ragged breaths, but breaths all the same. The pressure was gone, his hands were free, he could think- He was still being held-! A pointer and thumb-pinching his hips-he kicked his legs, shoving at enormous fingertips, panicking.

He caught a glimpse of Tom’s face, a cruel smirk pulling at his lips. Tord’s words caught, suddenly remembering that beans were dangerous, there are rules to avoid them for a reason-before Tom leaned back in his chair, lifting Tord high in the air.

“T-Tom-“ he stuttered, clutching the finger and thumb tightly. “Why- What are you doing?”

An unsympathetic smile crossed his face. “Oh, just curious.” He rolled Tord between his fingers like a pencil, completely disregarding his yelps of protest.

“Ab-bout whA-!” He hissed, gritting his teeth as Tom’s other hand came up, caught one of his arms between two huge digits, and pinched it. Hard. A strangled shout ripped from his throat as he frantically yanked at his arm to free it. It didn’t work, Tom’s only reaction being to twist his arm at an awkward, painful angle. Tord cried out.

“Well,” The human started, completely ignoring Tord’s cries of pain. “I’m curious to know how durable you are.”

Tord’s heart froze. That tone...

“T-Tom.” His voice shook as he tried to ignore the agony his arm was in. “We’re friends, right? Y-You wouldn’t hur-hurt me over so-something as s-silly as curiosity, would you?” He stared desperately into the huge black pits that served as Tom’s eyes.

The bean blinked, and let go of his waist. Tord dropped, grunting as his shoulder was nearly wrenched out of its socket. He twisted and made a grab for a finger, trying to ease the the strain on his shoulder. He missed, the joint screaming as he whirled back in place.

The borrower tried twice more, without success, before clutching his shoulder with a whimper. Tom hummed, watching Tord as he dangled bonelessly.

“Mm.”

Tord yelled as Tom twisted his arm, sending him whirling ‘round in the air. He almost screamed when his shoulder briefly popped out of its socket as he span wildly.

He clutched his shoulder, almost missing when the huge bean spoke.

“I would.” Tord’s heart leapt in his throat.

Tom peered to the side, a contemplative expression in his face. “I wonder if you’d survive a fall from this height?” Tord choked back a sob as Tom moved to dangle him over the kitchen tile.

“Tom, please!” He writhed, eyes starting to drip. “Aren’t I your friend!? Why are you doing this?”

Tom scoffed and lifted him higher. “I told you, I’m curious.” The fingers loosened. The sob escaped. Tom paused, taking in Tord’s pitiful attempt to cling to his hand.

“Why would I want a tiny thing like you for a friend, anyway?” The fingers loosely clasped on his arm disappeared, and he plummeted.

Tord shot up with a strangled gasp. He grabbed his shoulder, panting heavily, tears dripping down his chin.

A frantic scan around showed him he was still in bed, tucked away in a little alclove in the bookshelf.

He looked to the side, across the room, at the snoozing lump of Tom, illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the window. Tord sighed in relief. Just a dream. He glanced back at the snoring human. Just a dream, but-maybe he would avoid getting too close to Tom. Just—just for today.

#eddsworld g/t #g/t #ew tord #ew tom #hey look violence #oh #I’ve finished writing the thing with king Matt and giant Edd #I just need to type it up on my computer now #and I should have that one out too #hey #wish me luck so I don’t say anything stupid or incriminating #cause I’m going to the doc for some surgery #and they’re givin me the good stuff #so my family member’ll be the one to take my doped up self home #and I’d rather they not know I’m any weirder than hey already think I am #anywhooo #y’all have a nice new year?#writing

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years ago

Text

Hypothetically,

Ao3, MasterPost

Relationships: Romantic Intrulogical, Platonic Logince

It is about! Damn! Time! That I wrote some Intrulogical! Also, y’all already know my stance on platonic logince,,,, guys they ARE best friends i’m sorry I don’t make the rules.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending). mentions of stuff like autopsies and nuclear explosions in the context of like experiments- they do stuff in The Imagination, basically. Panic attack (?). Hurt/comfort. Pretty heated kissing; It’s more intense makin’ out than I usually write but it isn’t anything explicit at all, don’t worry! ADHD Remus and Autistic Logan. Cursing- like So Much Cursing. Mentions of space, deep sea, etc. Food mention.

Word count: 6,769

There was a conundrum.

A., Logan needed to use the Imagination. B., He could not use it on his own, considering that he was Logic. C., Roman was nowhere to be found. The answer to what was frustrating Logan at that moment would be all of the above.

To be clear, he didn’t like going into the Imagination. It was simply the only suitable place to perform his ‘experiments’. His very necessary, very distracting experiments. But, as stated, Roman was God-knows-where doing God-knows-what.

Logan sighed at the door, as though it was the inanimate structure’s fault. The cracks gleamed obnoxiously bright, golden light pouring out from behind the door in a somewhat eerie manner. It was a nonsensical, unrealistic, completely insignificant place, and he wanted in.

Logan was contemplating asking Janus for help (lies took imagination, right?) when, out of nowhere, an arm was thrown around his shoulders. Literally an arm, disembodied and oozing sick-smelling blood onto the carpet. Ah. Wonderful.

“Hello, Remus,” he pulled the appendage from around him, holding it at arm’s length (no pun intended, dammit).

“Hi!” Remus took his arm back and reattached it with a disturbing crunch, a grin stretching his face. He sidled up to Logan, imitating the side’s stance in front of the door.

“Can I help you with something?” the logical trait tilted his shoulder away from where Remus had pressed against him.

“Not unless you’re willing to get really messy- but I can help you!”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re implying.”

The Duke rolled his eyes, promptly flinging the door to The Imagination open. An encompassing energy radiated into the common room, corrupting the usual neutrality of the space. It didn't last long before Remus grabbed Logan’s wrist and dragged him along through the entryway, movements as sporadic and fast-paced as everything else about the creative.

“It’s not very logical to just stand there staring at the door all day, in my opinion. I dunno what you need Imagination for, but whatever it is, I can help! My half is much more interesting, anyway.”

“Oh,” Logan blinked, narrowly ducking his head under a branch as he was pulled forward, “Thank you, I suppose.”

He politely didn’t mention that he doubted Remus’ capacity for helpfulness. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.

The door from the commons was quite a walk from the darker half of The Imagination, but at the pace its owner had them going they were there in minutes. The border was marked with tangles of densely thorned shrubbery, which parted for them, as if they sensed the approach. Logan just barely avoided snagging his shoe on one as they passed.

There was forest, twisted and shadowy, for only a minute. After that, they were in a city, with tall buildings and winding streets and dark alleys. Another switch, they came into what seemed like an amusement park. Nothing was consistent in theme, and none of the scenes held up for more than a minute or two. Remus shook his head and tisked. With a snap, a good portion of the ever-changing scenery was erased, leaving blank white space. The Duke turned to look at Logan with a satisfied smile.

“Ta-da! What do you need?”

Logan blanched for a moment, surprised at Remus’ willingness to completely delete Imaginings without a second thought. It usually took Roman ages to find a spot that he was okay with giving up on for Logan’s “projects”- which he always had thought was a little silly, seeing as he could bring it back when they were done. The change of pace was a pleasant one, though, so there was no need to dawdle for long.

“I need a miniature fully-functioning model of our solar system. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, totally,” Remus waved his hand and the request appeared suspended in the air, spread out to be the size of a dining table. All was accounted for- sun, moons, eight planets plus pluto- orbiting and spinning around each other. Imagination, by nature, had no real limits, but the detail was still a sight to behold every time. Logic smiled, surveying the set-up, before gesturing to the edge of their blank section.

“Thank you for the help, you may go.”

“May I now?” Remus conjured a seat for himself, staring at Logan with his chin resting on his hands, “You’re not even going to tell me what this is for? That’s just rude.”

Logan glanced up from the tiny earth he was inspecting, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“You are welcome to stay, if you wish, but your brother usually leaves at this point. He says my experiments are-” he summons his notebook, “‘Bore-ifying’, which I assume is a portmanteau for ‘boring’ and ‘horrifying’.”

“Roman’s a big baby!”

Logan shrugged, not disagreeing, and resumed his careful observation of the tiny model earth. Remus made no move to go, wheeling his chair even closer. The scientific side carried on before his new audience of one, hovering a hand over the little planet. Abruptly, it stopped spinning. Logan made a gesture with his hand that magnified the model significantly.

The results were immediately catastrophic. Logan jotted a few observations down in his notebook, watching closely at the ways torrents of wind ripped up trees and buildings. In the back of his mind, he was faintly impressed by just how well-rendered ‘Dark’ Creativity’s earth was, down to the individual humans, brutalized by the storms.

“Whoah, what the fuck?!”

Logan looked up briefly to see Remus craning his head over the destruction of the stilled planet. His eyes were wide and bright with curiosity.

“Oh- I should probably explain. I come here, usually, to run some improbable scenarios as a sort of stress-reliever. Specifically, this one is what would happen if earth stopped spinning on its axis. As you can see, due to the earth no longer rotating at its usual speed, the wind would continue on at-” he cut himself off abruptly, sensing the beginnings of a ramble, “I’m sorry, I’ve been told that I have a tendency to ‘go off’ when a subject particularly interests me.”

Remus rolled his chair even closer, looking much like an excited animal (more so than usual, anyway).

“Well then, go off! Don’t leave me hanging! Is that really what would happen, just if it stopped?” He gestured enthusiastically to the way that the oceans had begun to crash against and consume shorelines. He looked interested- genuinely interested.

Logan bit back a smile. He didn’t have to be told twice.

It was one of those particularly restless nights. For no foreseeable goddamn reason, Logic’s mind had become alight with enough half-formed thoughts and barely sensible ideas to fill a very, very weird book. The Imagination did wonders when he got like this, but it usually wasn’t two in the morning when he needed to use it. That wasn’t to say the circumstance was unheard of, but all times prior he could push the urge to investigate away with the reasoning that he could just ask Roman in the morning, and that the Creative side needed his ‘beauty sleep’, as he called it. There wasn’t anything he could do about that, was there?

Tonight was different. Logan could hear the occasional snap or tear or cackle from the room across from his. Remus’ room.

It had been less than a week since The Duke let him use the darker half of the Mindpalace, and that was pretty much the only meaningful interaction they’d had in as many days. They weren’t close, Logan wasn’t even sure if they were friends (not that he was a good judge of that, given the first time Roman referred to them as ‘besties’ he had all but cried), but Remus was at the very least an option. He was also unlikely to mind, given that he was already awake and had exhibited excitement previously.

Logan made up his mind after yet again failing to fall asleep. Quietly, he opened his door and took the few short steps across the hall, raising his fist. Remus’ door was open before his second knock.

“Oh, hey! What are you doing, coming knocking at this hour?” he didn’t even try to whisper, accompanying his statement with an over-exaggerated wink. Logan didn’t waste his time trying to shush the side.

“Good evening, I hope I’m not interrupting anything-”

“You know I don’t mind your ‘interruptions’, Twunk-y Megamind!”

“-But I was wondering if you would… Help me, again. I seem to be having a hard time getting to sleep, and I think that getting out some of my ideas could help.”

Remus’ face lit up dramatically.

“Oh hell yes! Are we gonna blow up more planets?”

“Something like that,” he kept his voice monotone, disguising the relief and hint of pride at such a positive reaction.

“Well, come on!”

Logan let himself be dragged into Remus’ room, barely having time to make note of the surprisingly organized layout before he was pulled through a sleek black door.

“But you have to tell me about it,” he ordered, twisting them through narrow paths in his half of The Imagination. Logan suppressed a smile.

“If you want to hear it, then I’m happy to.”

Without warning, they stopped the breakneck pace that Remus moved at. The trait seemed appeased with their surroundings, though as far as Logan could tell it was just another piece of ever-shifting ominous landscape.

Remus snapped his fingers. The scene remained intact.

“Sorry,” he glanced around nervously, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Can’t get ‘em out. I’ll get it, I just-”

“It’s no trouble.”

Logan rolled up his sleeves. He didn’t like using his ‘abilities’ much, as every side had some set of special skills, and all of them were much too ostentatious. But they were helpful, at times. He waved a hand, gesturing carefully so that he didn’t dismantle any more of The Imagination than was absolutely necessary. With a small stutter, the landscape shifted to a blank slate.

When he looked back up, Remus’ expression was not unlike that of a Cheshire cat.

“What was that?”

“I am Logic, therefore it follows that I am the antithesis to any Imagination creations. It’s very easy to erase them with just a bit of rationality.”

“No clue what a lot of those words meant, but it’s still cool that you can destroy shit.”

Laughing was unbecoming, to say the least, and so the logical trait tended to avoid it at all costs. The snort that escaped him was entirely involuntary.

If Remus noticed the noise, he said nothing about it. He was too busy bouncing from foot to foot, expectantly waiting for instructions. Logan cleared his throat of the outburst and clapped his hands together.

“Alright, let’s start with something simple…”

At his request, Remus would construct immaculately detailed creatures, settings, and models, watching gleefully at the ordeals Logan put each one through. They tested various and progressively elaborate ways to sink populated cruise liners, they simulated the effects of falling from the Empire State Building, dissected approximations of obscure marine animals (a shared special interest of theirs, apparently), and any of the other unrealistic questions that occurred to the typically rational Logic.

The only way to get such questions from his mind, he’d found out a long time ago, was deconstructing them one step at a time, to see them in their full ridiculousness.

It was also, he was coming to realize, incredibly fun.

Before the two knew it, the already late hour had turned unreasonable. Logan blinked owlishly at his watch, distracted from the tiny supernova that he’d created.

“Oh, I must have lost track of time,” four in the morning. Four in the morning!

“Aw, does that mean we’re done?” Remus whined, yet he still began unmaking his small star system.

Logan was suddenly very aware of the heaviness of his eyelids and a rubbery feeling in his limbs. God, was he tired.

“I’m afraid so. I really should’ve gone to sleep hours ago.”

“Fine,” Remus dragged the word out with a groan, “But let me know next time you wanna fuck with space, or deep sea stuff, or anything like that.”

Next time.

As much as Logan adored Roman, there was something very nice about having the more grim brother help him out with these experiments. For one, his creations were often much more accurate to the real world- likely because gore and destruction were that much more impactful when they were realistic. For two, he actually seemed to enjoy the work.

Logan’s deliberation was brief.

“I will.”

As it happened, the night spent delving into dozens of ideas had purged Logan’s need to use The Imagination, for the time being. Clearly, Remus was not patient enough to wait for him.

He popped up, unannounced, in Logic’s room.

“Lo!!!”

The trait in question fell out of his office chair in a very undignified way. Not that there’s a particularly dignified way to fall out of a chair, but if there was, this definitely wouldn’t have been it. He ‘ate shit’, as the saying goes.

Out of pure embarrassment, Logan made no move to get off the floor.

“Hello, Remus,” he greeted, “How may I help you?”

The Duke laughed raucously, sprawling into the now-unoccupied chair and leaning over him.

“You’re a riot, Dork,” then, added with glittering eyes, “Did you break anything?”

“No. Given that I am metaphysical, I’m not sure that I have bones.”

“I have bones!”

“Are they your bones?”

“They are bones and they are in my possession, yes.”

Logan let the subject drop and repeated his first question.

“Right, I forgot! I have an idea for an experiment!”

Logan thought that, despite his mild humiliation, it would probably benefit the conversation if he wasn’t lying on the ground, so he stopped doing that. Brushing mostly imaginary dust from his clothes, he shot Remus a bemused look.

“That’s nice. But I was asking you why you were here.”

The Duke’s face fell, almost imperceptibly.

“I thought you’d wanna know, because of what you said last time. Isn’t this, like, a thing we do now? You know how shit works, and I know how to make that shit, and then you can tell me about it!”

Oh.

“Remember when you were talking about radiation the other day? You can’t just say stuff like that and then not expect me to want to try it out, so really this is on you. It’d be dumb not to let you in on it.”

Oh.

He’d been listening to that rant? Moreover, he’d remembered it, and now had his own ideas and follow-up questions about it?

Logan felt light-headed.

“You’re probably too busy with work, huh? I guess my explosions don't have to be accurate, if you’re set on being boring,” Remus’ tone was nonchalant, but he was obviously lingering for attention. Logan then remembered that words are a thing, and people use them to communicate.

“No! I mean, yes- I mean, I’m not busy. I can join you, I- I’d like to, even,” the intelligent side heard a small voice in his head, his own miniature Virgil, screaming- what the fuck was that, get it together, Jesus, because he, despite what his fellow sides insisted, was absolutely nonfunctional when trying to form a friendship.

Remus didn’t seem to notice or care much past his own cheer.

“Cool!” he, yet again, wasted no time in seizing Logan’s arm and yanking him away, “I wanted to see what would happen to animals and plants and stuff bunches of years after lots of radiation! Do you think they’d mutate? Get all twisted and fucked up so that they aren’t even recognizable as, say, a dog?”

Logan considered the question as he was led through the Mindpalace.

“Well, nothing would be able to live there at all. Additionally, anything within a little under a mile of the nuclear fallout- depending on a few variables- would be completely incinerated upon impact.”

“Like, flesh-melting incinerated?”

“More like vaporized. The fireball would burn 10,000 times the heat of the sun.”

Remus went starry eyed, bringing them to a halt a mere five feet from the door.

“I wanna see that,” he waved his hands around at their surroundings, “Can you do the white-out thing?”

Logan, much less hesitant than last time, obliged. A small smile escaped him at the wondrous look on The Duke’s face. It was another form of expression he didn’t particularly care for, but containing his emoting was more trouble than it was worth by now. He couldn’t find it in him to care much either, for once.

“Where do we start?” Remus prompted.

“You tell me. I will help you make it as accurate as possible, and provide any insight that you want, but it is your idea,” and he wanted to hear more about those ideas. Odd and violent, mesmerizing and clever. There was so much that he wanted to hear about, to talk about, to puzzle out together.

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone to share such interests with. Maybe, despite how deeply he cared for his ‘family’, as Patton called them- maybe it was never.

Remus chattered as he worked, disrupting the train of thought. Logan almost tuned it out- after all, everyone had grown perfectly used to The Duke’s rambling- but he caught himself. That was hardly how he should treat the side that was so strangely considerate to him, wasn’t it?

Logan listened from then on. He began to add on to the conversation, corrections and elaborations and actual questions, because he actually didn’t know some of it. He didn’t regret the choice.

By the end, Remus and Logan were sitting together in the smoldering ruins of their make-believe test town, exchanging notes for different variables they could use in the next trial. They only stopped when Logan was abruptly summoned away by Thomas. He excused himself, a bit apologetic, promising to visit again soon.

As he helped Thomas (with what really should have been a simple task, honestly), Logic wondered briefly about the origins of the hollow feeling that grew in his chest. Something distracted, longing, and unfamiliar.

And then the oven caught fire, and the only thing he felt was annoyance with the man that he was somehow a component of.

So, that was that- Logan and Remus were friends, now spent regular time together, and shared interests. By all accounts, it was a simple and obviously positive development.

But then there was Roman.

“What’s wrong with my work? You’d really prefer whatever edgy 12-year-old DeviantArt account nonsense that he thinks up?”

Logan set his book down with a sigh and looked over to his doorway, where Roman stood with his hands on his hips.

“Come in, Roman, and thank you for knocking,” he snarked. The Creative side made a vaguely sassy noise, trotting right in and flopping backwards onto the bed. Without closing the door, the monster.

“I thought that building your Weird Science contraptions was our thing.”

Logan made a show of standing up and manually shutting his door before responding.

“You don’t like my ‘contraptions’, as you call them.”

“Yeah, but I still made them for you! Because we’re friends, but I suppose you’ve forgotten all about that!”

He really should have expected the melodrama. And yet, Logan had lived in a delusional world where he didn’t care about the most Extra being on earth.

With an eye roll, Logic dropped down beside Roman on the bed- though he wasn’t half as flamboyant about it.

“I can have more than one friend.”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to be your favorite! We’re supposed to hang out together! Do the friendship bracelets I made mean nothing to you?”

He flung his arm across Logan’s chest, a ‘friendship bracelet’ clearly visible on his wrist (a loose usage of the term, given that it was a solid gold band with inlaid sapphires, because of course it was).

Logan held up his arm as well, showing that his (silver with inlaid rubies) was still very much in use, despite his distaste for jewelry.

“We hang out plenty. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings by spending time with your brother. My reason for doing so is that he seems to take active enjoyment in building and learning about these things with me. He also makes very good conversation, in regards to the more, ah, eccentric experiments.”

Roman tossed his head to the side to watch Logan with narrowed eyes. After a pause, he linked their arms at the elbow.

“Yeah, you would think that. You’re secretly just as much of a weirdo as him.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh please, I can barely keep up with a word that either of you say,” Roman headbutted Logan’s shoulder in what was likely another of his odd displays of affection. He let his head rest there for a minute, a rare instance of peace before he inevitably resumed talking.

“Anyways-”

“Anyway,” Logan corrected.

“Anyways, if you nerds wanna talk about your weird, creepy experiments, then I guess that’s fine. But he isn’t allowed to co-opt anything else that we do together that we both actually like- no making fun of movies together, no Crofters jams, and no poetry-slash-rap battles.”

“Of course not, Roman. You will always be my favorite person to disagree with.”

“Love you, too,” Creativity bumped him again, then sat up to stretch. Logan snorted a laugh and considered shoving Roman off the bed, watching as he raised his arms up and straightened his back. Before the trait had the chance, unfortunately, his friend was already standing.

“Leaving already? Weren’t you just going on about spending time together?”

“Nah, that was all I wanted to yell at you about for now. I’ve gotta go help Pat with dinner.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you.”

“Thanks, I won’t.”

“I hate you.”

“Ditto.”

Halfway out the door, Roman threw a glance over his shoulder.

“Oh, and whatever you two end up doing, do not give me the details. Please.”

Okay, finally, that really was that. Friendship established, blessings given, the end. A simple symbiosis.

Logan was thinking about the practical uses of medieval torture devices? Remus. He wanted to see exactly how long it would take your average healthy adult to succumb to drowning? Remus. Logan wanted to just rant, about anything and everything, his brain moving a mile a minute? Remus. They spent an inordinate amount of time together.

Occasionally, when he didn’t even have the energy to converse, he would sit down with a book in the commons when he knew Remus was there and let the trait’s never ending word-vomit wash over him. It was an odd sort of intimacy, but that fit within the theme of their dynamic. Like he said, simple symbiosis.

And that was when the not-very-platonic fondness grew. And Logan, to his own surprise, allowed it to.

After deep consideration he had seen no reason not to; Remus wouldn’t judge him, not ever. It put a name to the hollow longing that occurred whenever he, eventually, had to get back to work and part from their talks.

He hadn’t sorted out what to do about the feeling yet, but he felt no urgency.

Logan’s book lay forgotten in his lap, that morning being one of the quiet ones as he reflected on his unfamiliar emotions. It was almost nice, letting such affection curl up in his chest and settle there.

His contemplation was broken by a sharp jab to his shoulder.

“Are you listening to me?”

He tilted his head at Remus.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

“What were you thinking about?” his eyes lit up, very obviously hoping for it to be something disgusting. Logan glanced away, given that he didn’t even like eye-contact in the best of circumstances.

“Nothing important. You have my attention now.”

Remus rolled his eyes with a huff, apparently genuinely irritated.

“Well now I forgot what I was saying.”

“Let’s backtrack: what were you talking about before?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, we can talk about something else.”

The irritation had grown to something unrecognizable to Logan- frustrating, given how closely he tried to study body language. He felt a stab of guilt as Remus stood up from his spot.

“It probably didn’t matter. I’m gonna go annoy Janus.”

“Oh,” Logan’s voice was small, “Alright, then.”

He was already gone.

That was… concerning. Not to mention bewildering; Remus didn’t just pass up opportunities to talk! He didn’t just leave, not even when he wasn’t wanted! Logan really hadn’t thought his zoning out would earn such a reaction.

But he was far from perceptive about emotional problems. There was no way to know if it was anything to throw a fit over. For all he knew, it was just an off-day. He couldn’t always expect his friend to be rambunctious and energetic, even if that was a big part of his personality.

The issue would likely resolve itself.

The issue did not do that. It did the polar opposite, speeding from mildly concerning to downright frightening at a whiplash-inducing pace.

Remus barely asked questions and almost never offered insight, as he usually did when they spent time together. In fact, his contributions had become rare and unenthusiastic enough that he could have passed as neurotypical, however disturbing the thought was. And that was when they did end up spending time together, which was becoming less and less often, much to the dismay of one significantly smitten smart side.

Something was very clearly wrong with Remus. Not the demented, destructive, mildly endearing and unhinged sort of wrong. It was the wrong sort of wrong.

Logan was hesitant to confront him outright. After a couple weeks of careful consideration, a more subtle solution occurred to him, as he idly flipped through a very graphic murder-mystery late into the night. Something bloody, and awful, and very much Remus’ taste. He set the novel down, knowing full well that his friend would be wide awake as he made his way across the hall.

“Remus?” he knocked at the side’s door, wearing a smile much wider than he usually liked. He was more than willing to express exuberance, if there was even the slightest chance that it would be infectious.

The door decidedly did not fly open. Rather, after a good deal of wrapping at it, Remus slowly pulled it back and poked his head out.

“Oh. Hey.”

Logan didn't dwell on the concern that reaction brought. He had something that would cheer Creativity up, of that he was sure.

“I have a test tonight- it’s going to be very messy,” he began, searching the impulsive trait’s eyes for any signs of interest. There was the slightest glint, but not much more.

“So, you want me to make stuff for you?” His speech was monotonous.

“Yes, that was the idea. It’s going to be gory.”

Hardly a reaction. All Remus did was open the door the rest of the way to allow Logan inside. Clearly, he had underestimated just how poorly his friend felt.

“Alright, I’ll set it up for you. Just don’t take too long, I was actually hoping to use my part of the Mindscape today.”

Logan nodded, very taken aback. He couldn’t ignore the slight hurt at the cold, dismissive tone (the irony of that wasn’t lost on him).

They stepped foot into The Imagination and immediately Remus stopped, destroying whatever had been in front of them- which was usually fine, it was just how he operated, but normally out of enthusiasm, not apathy. Maybe this was more than could be fixed with some blood and guts.

“What do you need?”

Logan conjured a tiny notebook, giving a tentative smile. Still, he was giving this plan a shot.

“Operating table,” one appeared before him, sleek metal with rolly legs, “A standard set of surgical tools,” he looked up to gauge Remus’ interest, but his expression still hadn’t changed as he continued to create, “A human corpse, and then we can get started.”

With a wave, a perfectly generic body fell onto the table, but Logan’s attention remained on The Duke.

“Great, have fun, let me know when you’re finished.”

Logan faltered, watching him turn to leave.

“You- you aren’t going to stay and do this with me?”

“You want me to?” Remus crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Logan with a gaze that could (figuratively) wilt flowers.

“I- Yes? If you aren’t at all interested right now, then I can save this experiment for another day?” Yeah, this wasn’t working, but Logan had no backup.

“No, no, don’t wait for me, you’ve already got everything you need, right?”

“I mean- technically, yes, but it- it wouldn’t be the same.”

Remus cackled, sounding quite like the cartoonish villain that he often acted as. It hurt to listen to.

“So that’s what this is about! Let me just fix you up, then!”

He snapped, and a blank humanoid form appeared at his side. It tilted its faceless head curiously at Logan, who recoiled.

“Not good enough? Is a hunk of nothing too unrealistic for you?” he snapped again, and the being suddenly transformed to match its creator exactly.

Nearly exactly: it wore an enthusiastic grin, eyes wide and sparkling, rather than the steadily building fire that raged in real-Remus’ eyes. It spoke in a disgustingly cheery tone.

“Wow, tell me more! Show me that again? What happens when you do that? You’re just so interesting, Lo!”

Remus watched the creation, a look of one part pride and a million parts resentment.

“Is that what you want? It’s just like me, but without any of the hassle of being another person that you have to deal with! And this one, you really can get rid of whenever you want, isn’t that great?”

Logan looked between the two, a fearful understanding creeping up his spine. There was something he was missing here, wasn’t there?

“No,” he muttered, half to the fake-Duke and half to the real one.

“No?” Remus spat, circling his mirror, “No, of course, you’re so right. This isn’t nearly enough.”

He made an elaborate gesture, and about a dozen more Creativities appeared, surrounding them. Logan stumbled back from them, nearly tripping on the operating table that they’d previously made. When he looked up, the real Remus was approaching him with an expression that fought its way between guilt and indignation. It was all at once heart-wrenching and frightening.

Logan tried to right himself, tried to look unaffected and certain of himself, as he raised his voice. He would not let this go a step farther, despite his confusion.

“Stop,” and with that, a wave rocked across The Imagination, and all was erased. In the aftermath he stood before a teary-eyed Remus (just the one, though), uncharacteristically looking like a stiff wind would knock him right over.

“What’s wrong? I gave you what you wanted!”

Logan reeled.

“Why would you think I wanted any of that?”

“You wanted an experiment, I gave you one! You wanted a willing audience, I gave you twelve! But I guess I just get everything wrong, right?”

“You know that isn’t true,” Logan felt choked, his words clumsy. It was foreign and horrible and disgusting, but he’d trudge through it all if it meant fixing whatever he’d done wrong. It couldn’t have just been him losing focus once? Could it?

“Oh, of course, I do just enough to be useful. So I’ve got that right; I’m a good utensil. Is it so much to ask that people would care about me, not just what I can do?” he posed a rhetorical oozing with vitriol, but it quickly evaporated into something much more desperate, “What if it’s my fault? It was my idea, I wanted to help. I don’t know why I thought you’d care past all that, did I give you a reason to? I can’t remember. It might make more sense that way, if I were the problem, wouldn’t it?”

Logan was running out of time to fix this, watching Remus curl in on himself, barely keeping from falling to the floor. He had no clue how The Duke had reached the conclusion that he didn’t care about him! They spent nearly all their free time together: sitting next to each other just to have the company, throwing each other tricky and often troubling questions to answer, constantly toiling away at things in The Imagination. Sometimes, they didn’t even need to talk, they just worked together in rapt silence; Remus did the creating and Logan arranged his work just so, and- Wait. Wait. Wait.

Logan didn’t need to talk, or touch, for that matter. Perhaps it was a mistake to presume the same for such a needy, affectionate, boisterous side?

No, not perhaps, it was a huge mistake. A major fuck-up, if you will.

He’d thought, if the blunt side had needed such comforts, surely he would initiate it? He hardly shied away from anything, except, well.

Except. Feelings.

God, he was the dumbest smart person in the world.

“Oh, Remus…”

The Duke’s head jerked up, continuing his back-and-forth of desperation and rage.

“I don't need your pity!”

Logan sighed, twisting the end of his tie in frustration.

“That isn't what I'm offering,” he took a breath before continuing, linking the words together so it would come out right. “I'm so sorry, I didn't take into account how you would interpret our interactions. I thought it was obvious that I cared for you, that I didn't need to say it outright. Clearly… I was wrong. So, if you need more than what I previously expressed- which I'm now realizing was very little in the eyes of someone who is not me- then I am happy to provide that for you.”

Remus was shaken, a good deal of his ire slipping away. Whether that was good or bad remained unclear.

Before it could be overthought, Logan crossed the remaining few feet between them and brought his arms around The Duke in his loose approximation of a hug. The trait froze, but he didn't pull away.

Physical affection, check.

“I value your companionship more than I'm entirely sure how to verbalize. You understand me in a way that most others don’t seem to. While your ability to make detailed creations is very helpful, it is hardly the only thing I appreciate about you.

“For one, you make me laugh. A lot. More than I'm used to. Additionally, you can easily match the pace with which I speak, or change topics! And, you are so much smarter than you make yourself out to be,” Logan finished the spiel with a smile, genuinely proud at his ability to articulate such… sentimental things, with relative ease. Words of affirmation, check.

He snapped back to attention when Remus brought shaking hands up to Logan's chest. For a moment, he worried that Remus would shove him away. The fears dissipated when all he did was bunch the front of Logan's shirt in his hands and hold on tight.

“Do you mean that,” his volume was low, “Or do you just want me to calm down?”

Logan tightened his grip around him and, following a motion that he'd seen Patton employ many times to great success, he rubbed up and down his back.

“I understand that it might be hard for you to trust me, but I promise I'm not lying to you. I would have to be pretty awful to do something like that, wouldn't I?”

Hesitantly, Remus nodded against his collar. A good sign, but there was one thing left he had to say.

“And- If you need further convincing- then you should know. I love you.”

Remus stilled. He then unfisted his hands from Logan's shirt. It was an anticipatory second before he threw his arms around the logical trait and finally returned the hug. His hold was crushing, and it was the most comforting thing that Logan had ever felt.

They were okay.

“I'm sorry I-”

Logan didn’t let him finish the apology.

“Don't be. You didn't know how I felt, because I hadn't communicated it in a way you understood. That is hardly your fault.”

Remus nodded again, remaining much quieter than he’d probably ever been in his entire existence.

They held each other for longer than either would like to admit, speaking softly.

“Thanks,” was muttered against Logan’s shoulder.

“Of course. Just so you know, I'm more than willing to do this again whenever you need reassurance.”

“It might be a lot,” his tone was turning more mischievous, more him, “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Absolutely.”

Logan hardly minded having an opportunity to gush about Remus to Remus. Not to mention, the physical affection was even nicer than he'd imagined it being. And oh, had he imagined it.

Remus' face returned to his usual ever-present zeal, and he ended their hug to bounce in place.

“Great! I'm good now! We can get on with that autopsy you wanted to show me- there better be buckets of blood!”

Logan shifted his weight.

“Maybe we should save that for another day.”

“Oh,” Remus' face fell the smallest bit, “Okay.”

Logan was quick to amend:

“By that I mean, I have something better in mind.”

Remus curled himself up in Logan’s lap, his eyes barely focused on the TV as the side carded his hands through his tangled mop of hair. Final Destination 3 played on the television (he had assured Logan that they didn't need to see the first two, and he was mostly right), serving as an excuse for the two to drink in each other's company.

It was right in the middle of a particularly graphic rollercoaster scene that Remus took Logan's hands from his hair to hold them, twisting around to face him.

“Is something wrong, Remus?”

“You told me you loved me,” he stated blankly.

“Yes, I did.”

“I didn't say it back!”

“No, you didn't,” it hadn't been the most important matter at the time, really. “You don't have to say it. It's perfectly okay if you don't feel the s- Mmph!”

Remus smashed their lips together, holding the sides of Logan's face (disrupting his glasses in the process) and pulling him forward harshly.

Logan, for less than a second, was floored. And then Remus tilted his head to deepen the already heated kiss, and the situation properly clicked. Logan reciprocated, slightly uncertain in his movements, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist.

Remus smiled against him. He nipped at Logan's lower lip with sharpened teeth, eliciting a very embarrassing yelp. Logic let his lips part in response as his thoughts grew fuzzier by the second.

The (somewhat clumsy) open-mouthed kiss lasted right until they absolutely had to break, separating for air. Neither moved very far, letting their foreheads rest against each other and all but panting for breath.

“I love you so fuckin' much, nerd,” when Remus spoke, their lips brushed ever so slightly, “Just so you know.”

“I picked up on that, yes.”

“A little clarity never hurts, right?”

Logan chuckled at the reference to his own sentiments, but the sound was abruptly cut off when Remus kissed him properly again.

When they broke apart, he explained how 'stupid-cute' that laugh was. And Logan, only half-joking (since when did he joke at all?), said that he’d have to do it more often.

Banter came easily to them, despite the raw undercurrent that still laced their conversation. Although, neither of them had ever found it difficult to talk; talk about the first thing that came to mind and the last thing that would come to anyone’s mind, talk about exceedingly simple nonsense and topics so intricate that they wound up sounding like nonsense, just talk.

So things would stay mostly the same. They would ramble to each other when no one else could stand to hear such disturbing things. They would sit, working side by side, running through plans and ideas and results at rapid-paced speech. They’d speak, and they would listen, when even their closest friends couldn’t manage such patience.

Only now, sometimes the rushed words might turn soft. Now, all that ranting might be more substantial than anyone would at first see. Now, they’d still listen, but leaned close together, gazes impossibly fond.

But then, on occasion, they would find that there were things far more fun than talking to do together.

@shrimp-crockpot

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Contest (1 of 7) | some R6S guys x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Bandit / Blitz / Glaz / Jäger / Tachanka x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: Dominic Brunsmeier can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut when it comes to eating pussy, and that’s how Y/N found herself being drafted to be the judge of this pussy-eating contest. (Straight out of a dream @kind-wolf had)

✏️ A/N: I... ehm, am a hoe, whoops 🙊 y’all, enjoy! Thank you, Alice, for always having great dreams and for letting me write about this. 🥰 The first actual part is coming soon, I just want to write a bit more of part four to avoid dishing everything out now and making you wait for the rest.

✏️ Warnings: nothing yet, but still 18+ only for sexual themes (oral sex f/r) being discussed.

✏️ Word-count: 1,937

✏️ The links to the other parts are in the masterlist linked in my bio.

THE CONTEST | >> part two: elias >>

When Y/N entered the lounge room, the conversation was already flowing and as she was already tired from the testosterone-filled day spent at the practically almost empty base, she didn’t make much of an effort to join it. She simply reached the alcohol cabinet, poured herself some whiskey, and sat down in one of the empty armchairs, ready to allow her drink and her friends’ voices in the background to fully relax her.

The day she had ahead was another one of those boring days. She was base-bound for the time being: other teams had been sent on various missions and only a bunch of operators had been left behind “on hold”. It wasn’t that bad: it meant having some days off, but those days often felt way too long and their emptiness brought up a heavy boredom she didn’t always know how to banish.

Her head had just leaned back against the cool faux leather of the armchair when her ears picked up bits of the conversation the boys were having and her eyebrows furrowed.

“Eating pussy is not a hobby,” Glaz was saying matter-of-factly.

Y/N’s eyes shot open, and the sip of whiskey that was halfway down her throat almost choked her.

“That’s something someone who doesn’t know how to eat pussy would say,” was Dominic’s reply. His eyebrows were knitted together and his lips almost pursed in disbelief at what his friend had just said. But then, when his gaze swept over and settled on Y/N, sitting right opposite him with the low coffee table separating them, his expression relaxed and his free hand, the one not holding his beer, came up to stroke his beard. “Have you ever eaten pussy so good you start considering learning how to breathe out of your ears?” he said and although he wasn’t talking directly to her, he was talking about her. He had told her just that a couple of weeks ago; he had groaned those words right against the chafed and tender skin of her inner thighs as she was still shivering with the aftershocks of her umpteenth orgasm, and she had breathlessly chuckled out loud at the mental picture that concept had painted in her mind.

At that, Marius laughed, a sound right from deep down his throat as Elias coughed in the attempt not to choke on his own drink. “You know no discretion.”

“Of course not! This motherfucker just said eating pussy can’t be considered a hobby!” Burning with disbelief, Dominic took a long sip of his beer and as he did so, he settled better in his armchair and allowed his ankles to cross as he rested his feet on the coffee table. “You learn how to eat delicious, juicy pussy, Glazkov,” he continued, the corners of his mouth curling upwards, “and then we’ll see if you still don’t change your mind.”

Timur groaned something in Russian and Alex cackled next to him. “I already know how to eat pussy, Christ. I bet I’m even better than you at it. You’re just boasting, but it’s all smoke in the eyes.”

Alexsandr proclaimed his agreement with a raise of his drink and before Dominic had the time to speak again, Y/N intervened, hoping to put an end to the discussion.

“Are you guys really arguing about your oral skills?” she scoffed, pulling her knees closer as her head leaned back against the headrest of the armchair. “How old are you, fifteen?”

“Listen, you know I’m right.” Dominic’s insistence threatened to make her smile, but hiding it was easy behind the rim of her tumbler. “You have to get down eye-level with your woman’s pussy and give it your fucking best. If you don’t go down on her like that’s the best thing you’ll ever do in your days, then you better leave the room to the pro.”

“Who, you?” Marius scoffed, eyeing his friend up and down before rolling his eyes at his Well, yeah, of course.

“Oh, fuck off. What are you, the self-proclaimed Cunnilingus Lord?”

“I don’t see anyone else worthy of that title here, so yeah, sure.”

There was a sudden uproar of “You clearly haven’t seen my women with me between their legs,” and “I’m sure you don’t even know where the clit is,” until Glaz’s voice seemed to drown out the others.

“You’re so full of bullshit, Brunsmeier.”

“I won’t let a child with his mom’s milk still on his upper lip insult me!” And while everyone’s words felt heavy and tense in the silence of the base, they all knew it was just a way to tease each other in the vain attempt to liven things up in these days’ placidity. Maybe an impromptu fight was just what they needed to have some fun.

But then, as Timur and Dominic stared each other down, Y/N’s soft laughter catalyzed the men’s attention onto something else. “I can’t believe you’re really about to fight over this. Why don’t you just sit in a circle and jerk each other off? The tension in here is palpable. When was the last time y’all had an orgasm?” She smirked and when she turned and caught Alex’s almost-shocked facial expression, something she never thought she’d one day see at the mention of sex, she chuckled some more. “You should place bets, and then come back and see who’s actually the best. The winner wins the money and the title of Cunnilingus Lord.” It was a joke, one she didn’t think would have a follow-up.

Silence ensued, and she would swear she could hear their brains work at maximum capacity as they mulled over her words. She knew how filthy-mouthed and filthy-minded these men could be — and she had spent more time with them than she had ever done before the past week — but it was still somewhat surprising to catch them red-handed as they fought about who had it bigger — or, in this case, who ate pussy out the best.

“What about a contest?” was Alexsandr’s proposal. He was sitting with his legs spread open and his hands in-between them, still holding onto his shot glass.

Everyone seemed to agree on his proposal and for a moment, as they spoke their minds, Y/N let her eyes close once more: if they wanted to challenge each other to a stupid contest, let them. The peace didn’t last long, though, because at some point, just as she was contemplating a nice bath instead of a shower before hitting the sack, someone called her name, and her eyes shot open just in time to see Dominic’s mischievous grin before it disappeared for good.

“I was saying,” he spoke up again, voice slow and measured as his feet came to rest on the floor and his legs spread a little wider, catching her eye, “that you would make an excellent judge.”

“And a partial one,” complained Marius, to which Dominic complained with a But she loves getting head! “We all know you two spend more time in the same bed than you do in separate rooms.”

She scoffed at that, more annoyed at the thought that someone would think she’d make someone else win on purpose than she was at the fact that she had just been brought into such a game. “Just because I’ve seen his dick more than I’ve seen yours doesn’t mean I don’t know how to judge good oral skills.” She frowned.

“It’s settled then.” Timur was grinning and his eyes seemed to twinkle under the lights of the room. “We eat you out, and you proclaim the winner.”

“Slow down, I never said I’d participate in your silly game.”

“But you also didn’t seem that opposed to it a second ago,” Dominic remarked. He was smirking again, and she knew he had something in mind. “You make the rules, and drop out if things start getting uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, no hard feelings,” Elias smiled, trying to look more innocent than she knew he was. “We care about you; you know we’d never push anything that could cause you discomfort.”

She eyed them all, one after the other, pondering the pros and cons of having these five men’s faces between her legs and not because of some chokehold during training. She had no problem saying yes to Dominic — she had been saying yes to him for longer than she could actually recall, and he had never disappointed. But it still felt rather weird to know that while it was just sex and they weren’t exclusive, that man was okay with that. He knew how to be possessive, but he wasn’t exactly jealous, and although they had never talked about it, she had never thought of him as someone who would share so willingly.

Unless his ego was at stake, though, apparently.

“There won’t be any dick involved,” she decided eventually. “I don’t know about clothes yet, but if I say you must keep them on, you will keep them on, understood?”

There followed a chorus of Yes, Ma’am and although her body relaxed against the leather of her armchair, she found herself squeezing her thighs together.

“No toys allowed, but fingers are fair game,” she added. “Scratch that, their use is highly encouraged. We can do it anywhere you want as long as it’s somewhere private. But absolutely no exhibitionism: there’s only going to be me and one of you in the room at a time. Only one person in a day, for God’s sake, I have other things to do other than being the judge for your stupid game.”

“Deal,” was Elias and Timur’s rushed reply and they exchanged a look at the simultaneity of the action.

“I’m not done,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “I’d say the rule is only one orgasm per participant but if you’re good at it — and you’ll understand it from my reaction —, you have free reign to give me another.” It was a plain attempt at riling Dominic up because it had been clear, just a few moments ago, that he thought he was the best, la crème de la fucking crème when it came to giving head to a woman, and a sick part of her wished she could be able to challenge him that tad bit more. “I don’t care about the order you decide to follow, that’s your business. I’d just like for you to let me know at least the day prior, so that if I’m busy with something Rainbow, we can reschedule.” She sat back for a moment, thinking of something else to add, but she came up empty-ended. “Now, if you accept these rules, you’re in, otherwise forget about getting close to my pussy.”

They all agreed, and they all promised they’d be good boys and behave.

“What’s the final prize?” Alexsandr inquired after a while, almost absent-mindedly.

“The knowledge that the winner is the best in this room at eating pussy? I thought that would be enough,” she laughed. “You can bet real money, that’s your business. But,” and she stared right in Dominic’s eyes as she prepared herself for what was to leave her lips, “another go between my legs could be put up for grabs.”

Dominic’s That’s out of discussion! put the others’ exclamations of jubilee to silence. “You go down on her only once, you fuckers. That’s it.”

Her grin at his reaction only widened when Timur spoke up again.

“What are you worried about?” And then, to the others, barely holding back his laughter, “Maybe the expert isn’t really that great after all.”

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

Original pic used: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-clouds-and-blue-sky-4870972/

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