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soleilnomoon · 3 years ago

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Hello!! I would like to request a situation where Sabo had a crush on y/n when he was younger but since he lost his memories he forgot about her. And around 12 years later when he gets his memories back, he finally remembers and goes to look for her. When he finds her, she's so happy to see him again and they kinda end up confessing to each other.

hi hi ପ(◍•ᴗ•◍)ଓ thanks for being so patient omg but sabo makes my heart hurt, i hope you enjoy <3

1.4k words, fem reader, sfw, 18+ mdni pls, (brief mention of death, nothing serious), angst angst, fluff if you ignore the angst; sabo is bad with words, obvy, feelings are hard ok.

it comes to him in flashes — memories he can’t quite trust, dreams that don’t seem like dreams, images that morph with time. he can’t tell what’s what; truth eludes him at every turn, slipping through his fingers, not tangible enough to be credible, but not outlandish enough to be fake. there are nights where he can’t sleep, where all he sees are blurred images — a pair of warm eyes, a mischievous mouth, soft hair, fidgety hands — those nights are the hardest. a dull ache throbs in his chest, where he rubs at it absently, making him wonder if he’s actually unwell. a subsequent trip to the physician brings no relief; there’s nothing wrong with him. supposedly.

when he’s overworked himself to the point of exhaustion, to the point of no return — when the shadows in his room come to life, when that same familiar face haunts him, sometimes it’s accompanied by a voice. what frustrates him the most is that in the back of his mind, there’s something reminding him that there’s someone important he’s forgetting.

it’s not a trustworthy thought, the paranoia might not even be warranted for all he knows. it’s ridiculous, this obsession to find the truth; he should be grateful for the life he has. from what he was told, it didn’t seem like his previous life was worth remembering, but he has a feeling that it couldn’t have all been bad. there had to have been pleasant times, right? his cynicism is fueled by the injustices of the world, of the amount of work they all put in to make sure the waves of change toppled over the powers-that-be. naturally, there’s no need for him to worry about foolish things.

still, the mind does as the mind pleases.

it’s precisely because of that that when he’s confronted with the gruesome news of ace’s murder — because death is too kind of a word to describe what the navy and the world government did to him — when he’s confronted with the reality that his youngest brother is somewhere out in the world, possibly alone, it really, truly hits him. for days he stays in his room, holed up, trying to jot things down, piece together his scattered memories in an attempt to thread together a cohesive narrative.

by the time he’s done, he’s quite pleased with his work; a long list of names of people he’s known, categorized by those he wants to reacquaint himself with and those he’d rather watch sink to the bottom of the ocean. his parents are on the latter column for obvious reasons; his brother is still up for debate. but one name in particular that is written at the bottom of the list, circled in red several times, is yours.

because the world is thrown into disarray, he’s unable to seek you out just yet, but when he does, it’s with the sole purpose of seeing if you remember him — or, remember anything about the time you shared together as children. it takes a bit of digging, but if there’s one thing about sabo, it’s that he’s persistent even when he’s not guaranteed success. so when he finds your new place of residence, he sets sail immediately — which works in his favor, as he has business in a neighboring island anyway.

after seeing luffy in person after twelve years, he’s determined to properly see — although, he’s not sure if you’ll still feel as interested in seeing him; the anxiety of that, the possibility of a rejection sits heavily at the bottom of his stomach, but he ignores all of that. for your sake, and for his.

it’s on a quiet evening that he finds you, at your favorite café, sitting at one of the small tables outside. you’re sipping on coffee and have a small plate of tea sandwiches, pastries, and the like on the table; in your hand is a book that doesn’t look remotely interesting, but you’re invested anyway. so when he sits down at your table, you don’t notice much until his long leg brushes against yours. frowning, you place your book down, fix him with a hardened stare, lips pressed together as you assess him critically.

sabo is positively beaming — in the only way he knows how, with a haughty look, eyes full of mischief and familiarity, the insufferable smirk only makes him look more attractive. absolutely absurd. after removing his gloves, he steals a sandwich off of the plate and bites into it.

you open your mouth to tell him off — handsome or not you don’t exactly take well to people stealing from you, let alone taking your food without asking — but you realize, with embarrassment, that the reason why he’s been so familiar with you, is because you know him. eyes widening, shock spreading through your body, hands trembling badly enough that you place them underneath your thighs and sit on them.

“s-sabo?” you’re sure it’s him — you’ve dreamt of him so many times you’ve lost count over the years. you’re sure that it was reported that he died — but he’s sitting right there, in the flesh, eating your food. “sabo, is that really you?” your voice is soft, quiet, the disbelief makes him laugh gently.

“it’s really, really me.” his answer is simple enough, but you’re still so uncertain. you have so many things you want to ask him, but the first thing that tumbles out of your mouth is something that makes him laugh louder.

“why the hell are you eating my food?”

he grabs another sandwich and chews thoughtfully, placing his hat down on the seat next to him.

“why not?” like his brothers, he has an insatiable appetite, and isn’t shy about it at all. “i travel all this way to see you, and you don’t want me to eat?”

face flushed, you ignore the way your heart beats a little bit faster at his words. “the polite thing to do, is to ask for permission, y’know that right?”

he watches you, amused and nostalgic. “were you always so testy?”

you roll your eyes at his retort, going so far as to smack his arm — something you used to do repeatedly when you were children. “were you always this difficult?” he doesn’t bother answering because you both know the answer already.

it goes like that; the back and forth banter, the light-hearted jokes, before you know it your coffee is done, and sabo’s eaten the remainder of your food. you can’t be mad, though, you’re still trying to process his return. on your walk back home — a walk that sabo insists on taking with you — he tells you a bit about his journey, about the time and people he’s lost. he pauses, which makes you stop walking altogether; life, he finds, is much too short to beat around the bush.

he doesn’t want to lose any more time to what ifs and maybes, so he says the one thing that he’s kept buried deeply inside of him for so many years.

it’s hard to focus when sabo speaks; he’s so dynamic and alluring — and you suppose he was always like that. people get caught in his orbit, unwillingly, and stay forever. you’re one of them. you’ve never stopped thinking about him, but you never dreamt of the possibility of seeing him again. so, in the middle of his rambling — with his flushed cheeks, his rushed confession, the flurry of words making him more embarrassed than he should be — you take his hand in his and admire the stitching on his glove.

“the thing is,” you say coyly, glancing up at him through long lashes, “i’ve always liked you.” you were just waiting for him to come to terms with his own feelings. it’s a miracle that he managed to say that, let alone stay calm as you make your own confession.

while he hates that it took twelve years to do it, a comforting warmth washes away that ache in his chest, making him feel a little more optimistic about his future. and maybe, just maybe, you will accept that the sabo you knew before isn’t exactly the sabo that he is now. you squeeze his hand reassuringly, and nudge him to keep walking and talking. even if you never see him again after this, you’re glad he made the trip to see you; that he’s alive and doing well is more than enough for you, but hearing the tenderness behind his words, makes you wish you could keep him on your island for longer than he intends to stay.

#hopefully i can keep this momentum going #fic request #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #sabo the revolutionary #sabo x reader #sabo x y/n #sabo fluff #one piece fluff #one piece angst

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just-a-sleepy-idiot · 4 years ago

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Valak Imagine: Him seeing you for the first time

Content/Warnings: Nun!Reader, Female!Reader, Blaspemic stuff since it's written out of a demons perspective after all, Based of the movie 'The Nun', Major Spoilers for the Nun!!, Kinda soft Valak

He had paced these holy halls so many times, disguised to sow fear in the nuns that lived here- showing them that evil was among them looking like one of their own. He mocked them with this form, and soon enough death had grasped all of them, all up to one last woman.

Valak wished to take over one of their bodies, but he couldn't deny the satisfaction when the last one chose to commit one of the worst sins the Bible knew, taking her life rather than letting him take over her mortal existence. He thought it was quite funny, to see one of gods devote believers choosing to do this to oppose a demon. He wondered which outcome would have taken on worse judgement- taking her own life or letting her precious little body get taken over by a demon?

He already waited, yearned for others to come which they eventually would. Toying with their sanity and their beliefs, he already felt the arrival of two devote believers coming close.

Eventually you were here- first a priest, and Valak could look deep into his heart and see his guilt haunting him, guilt that the demon would use to torment him later on- this priest and you.

You were wearing a dress, but you might as well have worn the white robes because you emitted something.. pure. No human was ever fully pure, not like they wanted to be, and you too had your yearnings and troubles of course but he saw purity because you were fully aware of them and faced yourself with clarity and judgement.

You weren't a blind follower of the book, driven by blindness, guilt or foolishness.

Valak huffed in contempt, instantly feeling how the opposing nature of his origin and your devotion was stirring up inside of him. Like magnets, wanting to draw each other away.

You stayed now for two nights, and he had already begun playing his schemes with the priest but you.. he still only.. watched. He still only observed you, and he wasn't sure why he was so hesitant.

You were only a mortal after all, you would tremble at the mere sight of him. He felt no fear, so maybe it was.. curiosity?

His demonic nature longed to corrupt you, to teach you fear and see you scream like the other nuns. He was the defiler, the profane, the Marquie of snakes. He wanted to mock and corrupt and watch the ones who serve god crumble in their beliefs.

So why did he keep his distance with you?

A few days went by, and both you and the priest slowly begun to understand what had happened here and how it was tied to the evil that was roaming this place.

Valak had shown you images of the nuns that lived here, and you were believing everything as if it was actually happening. He watched you interact with your environment and with the shadows of the ones that were gone already.

And one day he decided to show himself. Looking like the nun he chose to torment the others with but a little.. softer, a little bit more disarming. With features that he guessed would invoke trust from humans.

When he approached you, you felt someone looking at you without hearing a single step. When you turned around, you were met with green eyes and looked up to a tall nun. There was something strangely.. intense about her, yet you had a feeling like you could feel safe despite of that.

"How do you like it here so far?" How long has it been since he had used words of the human world..

"I like it a lot. I've been treated very well here, the only thing that worries me is the wellbeing of Father Burke. He had horrifying things happening to him."

Valak suppressed a smile, yes he did indeed. "I see."

He continued on talking to you, spying on what it was that a nun like you was thinking by conversing with you.

"Have you been taught about demons, Sister Y/n?"

This question.. had something off-putting, as if you felt like despite her calm and cool expression she was very interested in whatever you might say next.

"Of course, Sister Val." You fumbled with your hands, "Although none of my fellow sisters ever seemed to really take matters of evil very seriously." They concentrated so much on the good that they didn't seem to take the bad forces in the world seriously. They felt too secure.

Valak knew how easily everyone wanted to forget what was waiting outside of their churches, their holy little homes that they felt so safe in. "And what do you think of them?"

You looked up into the green eyes of the tall woman, frowning at that question. No one ever asked about.. an opinion of these things, because it was taught that everything unholy like the creatures of hell were bad and there was no other way to see them.

"The forces of god as well as those of evil are constantly opposing each other. They are bad, they are destructive and against every living being." Your gaze dropped, "But.. I think that is part of the balance, the way it naturally has to be. Of course we have to fight evil, but I don't think just like evil neither does good is supposed to win. And therefore demons are.. just like us," you looked up again and smiled shyly, "something like soldiers?"

Valak stared at you without saying a word.

Just like them?! No, no you were just a mortal, just a flesh puppet. He was above the pity skills of gods creation! There was no way you were alike.

How strange it was to be thinking that while he literally looked like one of them, using the human tongue to communicate and observing this woman instead of following the unholy urges of destruction that were given to his very existence.

And suddenly, you were pressed against the wall, held high up by the nun who's expression now cruelly turned into something demonic. You gasped, unable to look away as he growled darkly at you. He was done playing, he should just snap your neck right there.

But.. he didn't- he couldn't! The demon growled in frustration, harshly pressing you against the wall even more before suddenly letting you go.

"Your foolish beliefs will not earn his favor, little one. You should go back to blindly being his devoted sheep."

You hurried to stand up again, leaning against the wall for stability after your fall with rapid breathing. The green eyes now begun to glow, almost like gold, and Valak loomed over you.

"Leave, leave and send someone as blind as the others, you are not amusing anymore."

You begun to run, candles lit along your way and blew out after you passed. You looked back as you sprinted through the stone corridor and saw the outline of a horned figure watching you go.

You were carrying a forbidden truth with you, something that he did not wish to defy. He wanted you to live, he wanted this truth to blossom within you. Maybe it would corrupt you.. but maybe it would make you even surpass all the others.

Valak would find a way to cross paths with you again.

- - -

I hope you liked it! If you are offended by the religious stuff please know that this is based off a movie and what is written in here is fiction and not a reflection of my actual beliefs so pls don't rage in my comments

#valak x reader #the nun #the conjuring #the conjuring 2 #conjuring valak #slashers x reader

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

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Y’all are too nice to me I swear… here I am being horny and nasty on main and I’m getting encouraged, damn. But for real ( ´ ω ` ) thank you so much!!

I’m gaining more confidence to post more smutty stuff and the kind of dark shit I like, so I might go back and make more nasty Childe content later on too… After Albedo, I got Razor and Zhongli coming up, and a few ones I just worked on for fun. But yeah, just in case it wasn’t clear for anyone who followed me, I’m going to be writing almost entirely dark content and some really nasty stuff, so just be aware of that, and don’t consume my writing if that’s something that may be harmful to you.

Albedo is so pretty… and such good dark content material… He treats you like a science experiment but has the audacity to make it hot smh

I haven’t seen a whole lot of him outside the cutscenes, so potentially ooc (as if yandere content isn’t already ooc, lmao)

Albedo - Yandere Profile

tw: general yandere content, obsessive behavior, stalking

tw (below cut): smut, noncon (seriously, you’ve been warned)

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Very much aware. In the beginning, it frustrates him. He’s never been particularly attached to anyone, outside of his former instructor. He’s always enjoyed being out on his own, spending extended amounts of time by himself – the desire to be around someone is a foreign feeling for him. He immediately notices how bizarre the emotion is for him, how it changes his behaviors. His self awareness combined with perceptiveness makes him able to acutely recognize not only how unusual this emotion is for him, but also how the extent of his feelings, the types of desires they ignite in him, is unusual even for “normal” people who aren’t social recluses.

He’s frustrated by his own actions, feels embarrassed at how attached he is to you, how easily you make him flustered and trip over his words. As he is a very aware yandere, he’s definitely afraid of rejection to some degree. He has no idea how to navigate feelings and interactions with other people, he’s never really had the desire to form a particularly strong bond with anyone before. As such, he’ll come across as very awkward, and he will interact with you less than most yanderes – he knows he’s just going to embarrass himself if he talks to you, right? He’ll just mess up and say something strange, so instead, he opts to watch you from the shadows, go to places where you are, but keep a distance from you, just being able to watch you makes him feel fluttery and overwhelmed.

He will definitely be one to collect things from you. He collects plenty of things for the sake of science, this is no different. Or so he tries to tell himself, but he can’t delude himself even if he tries. He knows its weird, he knows its wrong, but the overwhelming urge to have things of yours is too great to resist. He’ll start off with more innocent things, but it will gradually progress to not-so-innocent… items of yours.

It may not be obvious, but he’s actually a fairly sensitive person, at least regarding you. He places a lot of value in what you think of him, and wants to ensure you’ll respond positively to him. He views it like a science – there should be some formula by which he can put in the correct actions, and produce a specific result. Unfortunately, unlike real science, there’s not much room for trial and error – he feels he only has once chance.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It will take some time, as he’s got to get over his own nerves first. He’s torn between the fear of you hating him for such a thing, it would be the end of the world for him, but also the desire to pull you away from the world, to keep you hidden from others, to have you all to himself, to be the only person that gets to look at you. If you start showing positive signs, reacting positively to his gifts, expressing interest in conversation with him and going out of your way to see him, he’ll start to get more confident, think that he can afford to do something that might sour your opinion of him, hoping it will merely be temporary.

He’ll probably start to do so several times and back out. He’ll set out at night, make it all the way to your room and stand over your sleeping form, and he’ll start to worry, wonder if someone saw him, see holes in his plans, he gets too nervous and bolts. He’ll persuade you into being alone with him, and although its the chance he’s looking for, again, he’ll get nervous, worry about being caught, run through all the what-ifs, and miss the chance. Honestly, when he does finally take you, it will probably be not planned, but in the heat of the moment, a rash decision from desperation. Something like you coming to visit him to tell him you’re leaving the area, came to say goodbye, and he’ll panic, ultimately grabbing you by the arm as you try to leave and dragging you back inside, silently, but forcefully.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Moderately difficult. Your best bet is to take advantage of his tendency to be absent minded when he’s absorbed in his work. He gets very lost in his thoughts, to a point where he’ll completely zone out and be oblivious to the world around him. On the downside, this means you won’t have much time to cover distance, he’ll be close behind the moment he realizes you’re gone.

The route he’ll probably take is actually one where you won’t need to be too restrained, because you’ll be taking… a little research trip. Out to the most freezing, desolate areas of the mountains. He’s convinced the knights he needs to stay there for his research, but in reality, he’s internally panicking, as he tries to figure out how to make this work – after all, you two can’t stay here forever. You’d be foolish to run out of the little cabin he’s bought, out into the perilous freezing cold and jagged, high slopes. At first, he thinks there’s no way you’d try it, so he’s content letting you have free reign to walk around as you please. If he has to leave for whatever reason, he’ll probably lock you into a single room, but he won’t chain you up, as again, he's really trying to avoid making you hate him.

If you prove to be determined to leave, he’ll be hurt, but mostly concerned for you. He’s actually not one to get too mad over an escape attempt – he’ll blame himself, or theorize it’s just a natural response your brain triggered. Against his first choice, he’ll end up having to get more strict with your restraints. If you get too whiny, though… you might trigger one of his more frustrated moments.

“I didn’t want to have to do this… I’m sorry. I can’t risk anything bad happening to you. Tell me if it’s too tight… I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t blame you. I know you’re probably panicking over all this, but you’ll get adjusted to it, I promise. Just… just give it some time… it’s not so bad, living with me, I promise.”

“Don’t be like that. You’re only tied up because you tried to leave. You should understand why you have to be kept like this… If you don’t want to be restrained, you shouldn’t have run out, trying to get yourself killed.”

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

For all his academic intelligence, he’s not highly skilled with people and socialization. He’s not too good at being able to tell when he’s being lied to, and he definitely won’t pick up on subtle manipulation. It’ll be pretty easy to wrap him around your finger, he’ll do what he can to make you happy.

Once he finds out you’ve lied to him, though, he’ll get pretty upset. He likely won’t trust you again, and will require proof of anything you say, or set out to find out if you’re telling him the truth or not.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He’ll try to accommodate you, giving you things you ask for, but he has limits. He’s too paranoid to let you have any contact with the outside world. You do have him wrapped around your finger to an extent, though. Whatever he’s doing at the moment, he’ll drop it in a heartbeat if you want to spend time with him in any way, even if its just you asking for food or to take a walk. He’ll be willing to take you for very short trips outside, no further than a few yards from the lodging, if only because he knows sunlight is vital to your health.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

The basics will be there – don’t try to leave, don’t be difficult with him, try to cooperate, be obedient. However, he’s also particularly overprotective of anything that can hurt you – even yourself. Under no circumstances can you handle anything that can hurt you – that means no cooking, no knives, no lifting anything heavy, no going outside without him. If you’re determined to cook something, he’ll have to stand right behind you, and watch while you do it. If you get so much as a little cut or burn, he’ll take over, insisting you go sit down after he tends to your “wounds.”

At the very beginning, he’ll be hesitant to punish you too much, as part of his plan to get you to like him. However, he can be a little easily frustrated, and your safety and well-being comes first, even if it means he has to make you upset. He will have to restrain you, take away what little privileges you had. If you try to bolt while you’re outside, no more going outside. If you try something foolish like attacking him with a knife when he gives you cooking privileges, you will lose said privileges. Really, the worst part of it all is the humiliation, being treated like a dumb, incapable baby that can’t do anything for yourself. He insists on doing everything for you, even down to bathing you and dressing you, even feeding you if you can’t convince him to take restraints off your hands. He’ll talk down to you in that way, too, talking to you as if you were a child.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

It’s a situation he’s not prepared to handle, and he’s unsure of what to do. It strikes fear in him that you might have someone else interested, so he has to get rid of them as quickly as possible. He’s not opposed to killing, if it comes down to that, but initially, he’ll try to work behind the scenes – expose something that will ruin their reputation, get them accused of a crime. This would also be one of the possible aforementioned situations that might cause him to kidnap you a bit earlier than he normally would, as well. If he can’t get rid of them easily, he’ll just take you away from them.

He will absolutely try to make you hate them, try to ruin your image of them, and he’s rather good at falsifying evidence for his claims of their behavior. With his alchemic skills, that sort of thing is easily possible.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He gets more frustrated than anything, when you’re being difficult. This is mostly just him sighing quite a bit, speaking a bit harshly, even pouting and sulking a bit if you’ve offended him. But true anger in him is not pretty, and almost never happens. It’s a buildup, a slow rise that has a boiling point. If he reaches that point, he can definitely get mad enough to hurt you, it’s actually kind of terrifying in how sharp of a contrast it is to how he normally is. It’s a side of him that’s very difficult to draw out. He’s not one to yell or shout, no, his anger is a suffocating silence, he slams down whatever he’s holding as he stomps over to you, grabbing you by the arms hard enough to bruise, and dragging you by the hair to whatever he has planned.

With mild frustration outbursts, he will feel justified, but if it reaches that intense anger, he’ll usually give at least a little apology, tell you he didn’t mean to go that far. He hates to think of you fearing him, but ultimately, if that’s what’s necessary to keep you safe, then he can live with it.

Do they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It’s an odd mix. On one hand, he sees you as utterly fascinating, the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, more than any landscape or art he’s seen or made, an invaluable treasure to be kept on a high pedestal. Simultaneously, however, he will treat you like a child, thinks you can’t do anything for yourself. It’s a bizarre duality, but one he is consistent on. You’re precious, so very precious, and he’s undeserving of you, but at the same time, you need him to be safe and sound.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Of the genshin boys, he’s one of the most determined. He’s not good with people, and he doesn’t really have anyone particularly close to him left anymore. He tends to keep people at a distance. You sort of fill an space inside him that he never knew was empty, a void he wasn’t aware he had until it was consumed by thoughts of you. He doesn’t need anyone or anything else, so long as he has you with him, but he really, really wants it to be true that you love him. He doesn’t need you to even love him as much as he loves you – he doesn’t even know if that’s possible – but he just wants to know that, even if only in the slightest, his feelings are returned. He’s so distant from everyone else, but you wormed your way into his heart, even if you didn’t intend to, with your smiles and softness and kindness towards him. For the first time, he feels weak around someone, but in a way, it’s a good feeling. He wants to be able to be vulnerable, be weak, and not have anything to fear by doing so.

He’s lucid, though, so he doesn’t expect you to love him immediately. As he’s not good with words or displays of affection, he’ll get you all sorts of gifts. Rare items that you wonder how the hell he obtained them, beautifully crafted little trinkets from all his searching and time traveling, more clothes than you could ever wear. You’ll start to feel a little guilty, it’s so much, and you’re certain he doesn’t have that much money. He’ll blow it off, say it’s no big deal, but if you insist, he’ll have to start finding new ways to convey his affection. In captivity, he won’t stop trying, but he’ll understand why you might be angry. In that case, he will utilize what he’s learned from research in books he’s read. He knows that eventually, with him being the only one you have, the only company, the only one to talk to, the only source of touch, you’ll eventually have to cave. You’ll become attached to him, bond with him, whether you like it or not. He knows how powerful the affect of touch can be, and will make sure to hold you in his arms, keep you on his lap, make you crave the only source of human touch you can get. Dependency, he thinks, is the gateway to you loving him.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Drawings. So many of them. Much like his drawings he uses in notes, he’s found he tends to start scribbling a familiar face when his mind drifts off. He’s memorized every little detail of your face, every curve on your body. If you’re ever snooping around, you’ll eventually uncover a book of sketches he has solely dedicated to drawings of you. Drawings of you laughing, smiling, sleeping, drawings that you’re certain were of real events you were at, that you didn’t remember him being at. Every bit in perfect detail. If you confront him about it, he’ll be horrifically embarrassed, insisting they’re no good, or, if you’re upset, trying to reassure you it was all from his mind and totally not him lurking in the shadows as he watches you.

Also, if you want to make him happy, get him on one of his spiels about his work, his interests, anything that he can catch onto and go on and on about. He’ll catch himself rambling and apologize for being “annoying,” but if you reassure him, and express interest, that will make him feel particularly appreciated. It would be a primary way to get on his good side and manipulate him, or lull him into false security to make your escape, if that’s what you’re looking to do. But be warned, it will only work once, and he’ll be far too hurt to let himself indulge in sharing these things with you again.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Publicly, definitely highly reserved. He’s easily flustered, and thinks of sex in a very scientific way, for the purpose of procreation. For fun? He knows it’s enjoyable, but can’t separate it from his very analytic, scientific way of viewing things. It’s a formula, you touch this here and pull that there, and the result is supposed to be orgasmic bliss. He just isn’t very familiar with pleasure – he doesn’t drag out masturbation, even, as that would be a waste of time. He gets it over with quickly, taking short breaks during his work. He is a fairly high drive, though, and gets the urge fairly frequently, about once or twice a day.

He’ll be hornier with your presence, having to leave more frequently to get off to the little things you do, quickly getting himself off while recalling the mental image of you holding a pen in your mouth, the little moan when you stretch, the way your clothes fit to your frame.

Prior to abduction, he’s not particularly touchy at all, in fact, he’s very jumpy if you touch him. Once he’s gotten you alone with him for the foreseeable future, isolated, dependent, he’ll gain more confidence, be willing to give into his cravings to touch you, hold you, eventually progressing to groping you, moving his hands up and down your body, under your clothes, slowly peeling them off.

He’s initially a bit ashamed of his urges towards you, feels guilty every time he gets off to you, but will likewise gain more confidence once you're his.

A guy can only fight off the urge for so long before he cracks, before he can’t continue to care about the consequences. For him, that point is when he knows he finally has you all to himself – his worries fade, and while the guilt is still there, it’s far outweighed by desire.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He does care, but as stated previously, it’s hard to fight the urge for so long. It will be torture, but for the first few days, he wants you to “adjust” to your new “home,” and not add to your panic. After that, though, he’ll try to assess your reactions. If you’re extremely resistant, he’ll give you more “adjustment” time. He can’t really hold off forever, though, and eventually, maybe a few weeks in, comes to the conclusion that if he just does what he wants, so long as he’s gentle and reminds you he loves you, it will help you get past the mental barrier in your mind. He’s convinced there’s simply a psychological issue, and that sometimes, people need a push. It’s like having a friend who can’t swim – sometimes, you just have to throw them into the water, help them get over that mental hurdle, and they’ll be grateful in the end. That’s what he tells himself to justify it, anyway. He has enough… anatomical prerequisite knowledge to know what’s good and what’s bad, and will take your body’s positive reactions as a sign of what you really want. Is definitely the kind to use that against you, holding up his fingers to your face after you cum on them, as if to prove a point.

“See? I told you, you just have to let go and give in to what you want… if you didn’t, my fingers wouldn’t be dripping like this, now would they?”

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

He wants to experiment on you. This manifests as him being something of a service top without really intending to be, even if you’re not exactly happy about it. He likes to watch your reactions, watch the way your body moves, test the pleasure you get from different things, discover what it is that you like, even if you weren’t aware of it. In particular, he’s fascinated by the fact that girls have so many types of orgasms. He’ll want to try them all, watch and see which ones are more intense than others, which ones make you convulse, makes your toes curl, your eyes roll back. Which erogenous zones make your breath hitch, make you twitch and whimper. Probably the type to be determined that he can make you cum just from something like sucking on your nipples, and he won’t stop until he achieves it. He’ll also want to try everything. At least anything that he thinks has some potential to appeal to him, mentally. He’s a busy man and hasn’t really taken the time to explore his own sexuality, and has virtually zero experience.

Edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms

Experimentation also means testing limits and thresholds. He’ll bring you up to the edge, learn to watch for the slightest of signs that you’re close, listen to your breath, watch your face, wait until you’re just so close and then draw back, stopping just short of letting you catch that high. Then he’ll let you drift back down, and bring you back up again. No amount of begging will make him show you any mercy, you’ll only cum when he’s decided he’s observed enough. He wants to push the limit, see just how close to the edge of orgasm you can get without spilling over, just how much it takes to drive you insane. He’ll also want to see how far you can go after it as well. Orgasm won’t be the end of his ministrations, no, he wants to see how much stimulation you can take. You won’t be able to get away from his tongue, he’ll grab you by the hips and slam you back down, continuing to lap at you even if you’re so sensitive it’s painful. Watching you cum will just make him rut into you harder, bruising and abusing your insides to a point that they’re so sore you can feel it long after it’s over. At first, he might feel a little guilty, and may very well after it’s over, but in the heat of the moment, he can’t fight the insatiable urge to listen to you squeal, feel you convulse, watch the tears from overwhelming pleasure run down your face.

He’ll make it his personal mission to see how many orgasms the female body is capable of within a given amount of time - per day, per hour, how quickly you can have them in succession. For scientific purposes, of course. Anatomy and human biology isn’t really his main field of focus, but he likes to expand his research horizons.

“Just one more… cum one more time for me, then we’ll be done. Come on… I know you can, just one more.”

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’s actually good with children, usually. He has a calming effect on kids. He isn’t sure how he feels, though. To some degree, he fears his capabilities to parent, thinks he would be too cold to be a good father. But he also likes the idea of a protege, an heir to his title, one he can teach everything he knows. If he does end up having one, this fucking nerd man will read every book on pregnancy, birthing, and parenting that he can get his hands on.

Also, he’ll absolutely be one to track your cycles, even better than you can. He’s researched enough to know exactly when you’re most or least likely to get pregnant, and you can’t help but notice how much more he seems to cum in you when you’re at your most fertile. Nor can he deny how satisfying it is to watch his cum slowly drip out of you, watching you twitch with aftershock and slowly drift off in exhaustion.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Unfortunately for you, since overstimulation and edging are already normal and everyday for you, he’ll have to amp it up a bit if he’s trying to make you regret something. He might get rougher, abusing more pleasure spots on your body, keeping his hands, mouth, and cock occupied all at once with driving you over the edge until it’s painful. But if you’re exceptionally misbehaved, you might not ever get a release to his edging, instead left to suffer from being so close, tied up so you can’t finish yourself off.

In moments when he’s really, truly angry, the peak of it, and that blends with arousal, he’ll really, really throatfuck you. Grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock down as deep as he can, holding you there as you gag and choke, feeling your throat convulse around him, desperately trying to pull back for air. The movements are harsh and brutal, pulling harshly on your hair, moving at a pace so fast you barely have a second to breathe. Thankfully, when it gets like that, he won’t last long, emptying out into your throat, holding your jaw shut and demanding you swallow. If any spills off on your chin, he’ll gather it up on his fingers, hold it to your face, and command you to open your mouth, suck it off, and swallow again. That’s at the peak of his anger, though, and you’ll have to substantially piss him off to reach that point. He’ll apologize later, holding you close, but his guilt doesn’t change the fact that it’s one of the most intense orgasms that he’ll have, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes think of doing it again, even without provocation. He’s restrained enough not to, but the thought is there… and deep down, he’ll entertain the idea.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

The curves of your body, no matter how defined or faint they are, no matter the general shape of your body, to him it’s the most beautiful thing. He’ll definitely want to draw you, even if you’re not too keen on posing. He’ll run his hands up and down your body, squeezing every little bit of flesh he can, moving his palms over every little curve, every inch of your skin.

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere albedo x reader #tw: extreme content #tw: noncon #yandere albedo

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

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hiya! i see that requests are open :] i was wondering.. if you haven’t written this already, can you write what would shigaraki’s reaction would be to his darling willingly giving him affection? maybe it was completely out of the blue or he got injured and his darling was worried, etc!!

thank you!! 🥰🤍💕

Thanks for requesting!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

In no one plans does it ever say to get beaten up.

But no matter how disgusting the blood on his tongue tasted, no matter how little he could see through the bruised eye, there were days like these where plans didn’t work out the way anyone wanted them to. No one said anything as the League of Villains retreated to their hideout, some limping, some holding their heads in pain. A few of them sighed as they passed their leader. Others clicked their tongues in disapproval, moral lower than any of them ever felt before - that meant rock bottom.

Everything had been going so well for so long, Shigaraki foolishly had already forgotten the feeling of losing. He was strong, resistant, and in good company, and yet, maybe his concentration had been off, his perception slow, or maybe it simply was a bad day. Still, no matter how he tried to justify the bitterness of failing, in the end, he could only bite his chapped lip in frustration.

It took him longer to unlock all the locks and bolts on the door to his room on that day. Everything ached when he lifted a finger and using both hands almost felt like tearing himself apart. It definitely had been too long that he experienced a real beating like this, making him painfully aware of every muscle and every bone in his body again. But even more so, knowing that this was a setback in his plans was even more bothersome than all the pains combined.

Still, Shigaraki decided he’d deal with the consequences and further planning the next day. There was no nerve left in his brain to keep grinding the loss over and over again, analyzing it, and plan out improvements. Nothing good could come out of his frustration, he realized, as he almost disintegrated the costly, sturdy locks of the door. But catching himself at the last second, Shigaraki reminded himself of their trustworthy duty of keeping what was behind the entrance exactly where it was and that it would be a waste to lose them too.

Even though you must have heard the door open and fall into its lock again behind him, you weren’t immediately apparent in the dark room. Shigaraki grumbled a sullen, “... back,” looking around once more, trying to make you out as he set aside the few hands spared from the fight. But heaving a deep sigh, he realized you must have been hiding or locked yourself in the bathroom, shying away from his presence as always. If t wasn’t him dragging you out for his own sick pleasure of being with you, you were the last person he thought to be willing to come to him.

And for once, he didn’t have the strength to pull you out of whatever orifice you had crawled into.

Letting himself flop onto the couch he had brought in just for you, Shigaraki let out a long groan. The cold leather felt good on the bruises on his face, even though it told him you hadn’t used the couch in a while. He didn’t like that even though he tried to make it homely for you after all your complaints, you didn’t take advantage of the amenities he provided, but Shigaraki felt too exhausted to get upset.

Minutes passed in silence as he tried to get his mind off replaying the lost battle over and over. It was so unfair, so cruel that the brilliant plan failed to retrieve the items he wanted. Still, even if he calculated disturbances because of heroes, he didn’t think they’d sent an army of them to stand against him. It was just so freaking frustrating, his body immediately started to itch everywhere.

Shigaraki wouldn’t have assumed for you to make a move, but he could clearly hear how uncomfortable you were as you contemplated moving out of your hiding spot. The shuffling of your clothes was louder now that there were no games on, and neither of you were talking, so he noticed you trying to get up a few times before sinking to the ground again hesitantly. He only sighed in exhaustion, wondering what he could do to make his face stop itching.

You had long ceased to be a threat to him, even if he didn’t have a brilliant achievement to boost that day either. It wasn’t like you two had come to any kind of understanding, a middle ground even. Still, he at least seemed to have earned enough respect or fear from you so you wouldn’t try anything funny when he was asleep. Perhaps he was too trusting, but it wasn’t like you weren’t scared enough of him and his quirk.

“Shigaraki...?” you whispered, testing with a tiny voice if he was sleeping already. He could hear your fingers curl into the leather, causing it to let out air loudly, which made both of you flinch - him from the headache, you from fear. Grumbling quietly about the disturbance, Shigaraki propped himself up on his forearms, looking up at where he assumed your position from beneath his unkempt hair.

“What?!” The words came out much harsher than he intended, but truth be told, he wasn’t in his right mind ever since he returned, so there wasn’t even any mercy left for you. You made a step back, the floorboards creaking under the sudden pressure, and you let go of the couch, too afraid he might snap.

“A-Are you...” you stuttered, annoyingly so. Shigaraki just wanted the world to be quiet that night. To have some peace after all the trouble. “Are you okay?”

Sighing, he plopped down into the couch again, letting his arm hang from the cushions. Of course. The only time you were actually worried about him, he was actually not okay, and he told you as much. “Not really,” he confessed, and silence fell over you two again before he heard you round the couch to stand by his side. It would have been so easy to grab you and pull you to him now, and maybe on any other day he would have, but even that seemed too exhausting to him.

“Do you need some water? Or should I go ask someone for bandages?”

With your questions so innocent, it made him snort loudly. “So you can run away?” was his counter-question. If not for the darkness in the room, he would have seen you tense up, read your body language to determine if you had planned something or if you genuinely were just worried, but Shigaraki couldn’t be bothered with the necessary actions if either of that was true.

“I was just asking,” you whispered, discouraged as he thought he heard in your voice. Your presence shifted away as you went and hid again, and it actually gave his heart a slight, additional sting when you seemed to settle somewhere. Ultimately, the silence was what he had wanted, but now that he had refused your presence for the first time ever since he took you for himself, he realized that it helped neither of you.

“If you really want to help...” he mumbled, taking a deep breath as he thought his words over, realizing they were foolish. “Come and scratch my face.”

There was nothing in response to this, only more silence, and now he truly felt stupid for even bringing it up. He could scratch himself just fine and probably better than a second person could, but really... it would have been nice if you were the one doing it. It must have only been seconds, but it felt like whole minutes passed before he heard another stir, and the warmth of your presence returned to him, slowly sitting down next to the couch. He turned to his side, waiting expectantly for you to act, hoping it would be soon as the itch grew stronger.

“It’s not good to scratch it,” you mumbled, and Shigaraki couldn’t help but click his tongue at you lecturing him. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, just scratch it!”

Until the last moment, he honestly didn’t expect you’d do as he said, and it was almost amusing that when you did reach out, you still would resist his instructions, doing as you pleased. Instead, you seemed to want to smother him between your palms, laying them over the extensive areas of his face like cheeks and forehead, constantly alternating between them. It didn’t help, the itch still remained, but he would be a liar to say he didn’t actually like it.

Your touch was much gentler than what he expected you’d use when you finally touched him. Much less pressure and more tenderness than what he was used to from being touched. It was actually, truly, really nice.

“More,” he mumbled, and you gasped loudly as he reached out his hands to grab your wrists, tugging away his pinky as to not hurt you. No matter how nice it was to feel your touch, Shigaraki couldn’t help but grow needy even after all that happened that day. Perhaps because of what happened that day, he couldn’t help but want more and more of the comfort of your touch, ultimately pressing your hands so tightly against his skin, the bruises began to ache. But it didn’t matter. It all didn’t matter because it was your touch, and even if you tensed up, you didn’t pull away. You were so warm, and your so skin soft, so even if it hurt, it hurt good; just right. It made him feel alive even.

It was exactly what he needed after this long day.

“Do this more often,” he mumbled, dragging your hands from the top of his head down to his lips and start again. “Touch me more...”

You could have scratched him right then and there, plucked out his eyes for all he cared, and ripped off his skin, but your touch, combined with the warm, jittery pulse he felt in your wrists, gave him an unknown satisfaction, one he’d have liked to experience regularly.

“Don’t stop...”

His voice was shaky - needy and greedy at the same time. He rubbed his own face with your hands over and over, which felt almost as good as scratching but hurt like hell at the same time. Yet, he wished these feelings would never stop, so he could enjoy them infinitely. Screw plans and the future if only he could have your touch all over him until the end of time. So even if it didn’t resemble the way you touched him before, Shigaraki couldn’t get enough of your hands, only ever wanting more.

Was it truly too much to ask for? Shigaraki wondered as his grip loosened on you. You yelped as he accidentally lost control over his pinky while drifting off to sleep, giving you a second of stinging pain before you tore yourself from him trying to deal with coming into contact with his quirk. Only a satisfied smile was able to cross his lips before he was overtaken by exhaustion, hoping that this was reminder enough to not try anything funny while he slept. But honestly, as happy as he was now, he would have even enjoyed having your hands around his throat. It didn’t matter where, as long as you never stopped making him happy with your touch.

And god, was he happy he fucked up his plan that day.

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nicolespeaks · 2 years ago

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You don't know me. You don't understand why I do things

All you see is a difficult irrational antisocial stone cold bitch who makes your life harder. Don't tell me to take your heart and your "good" intentions into consideration when you don't take me into consideration, cause the person who claims he knows who I am is a dishonest man who doesn't care about shit, who doesn't think and me first, who piggybacks off of my strength to keep us alive.

I don't feel loved or known by you, so why would I trust you to care for me? You say I'm the one that cared for you in a way your mother never did, so why would I entrust my card to you when you still don't understand me? When you are still unable to truly let go and sacrifice? Why would I trust you when you haven't proven what you've learned, that unconditional family love I have yet to receive from you. You watch me go insane over the things that have happened and still question why I not over it when you yourself refuse to read the book you wrote. I learned you. I put myself aside to understand you, when you speak in frustrations I have a wall that protects me. Where is your wall? Where is your understanding of me? Why is it unacceptable to be a bitch when you can be a cruel asshole to me over shit that doesn't even matter? Why must I understand your tantrums but you can't understand my shut downs? Why do you not understand that I have done things in response to you, not only to show you the unfairness, but to level the playing field. To let you hold something over me cause I'm so tired of accepting the bad qualities in you ish. I can be good. I have been good without your support, but it's you who credits me for the man you are today. You cling to me cause you don't want to let go. Do you know I can't claim you as long as she is alive? As long as she still believes you will come back to her? As long as your body is still being seen by everyone, being sold for profit, you, who you are. Why do you not understand that those things matter to me? That I feel the same protectiveness and possessiveness as you feel over me? That while it may be different for man and woman, I do not want to be the woman who's man has been spoiled by someone else? Do you not understand why Ive done the things I've done, to try and make you understand? That the pain you feel cannot amount to the fraction you've caused upon me. That this shit with you does not end. It will never end, and I didn't get that satisfaction, I never got that closure, I never got anything but pain that I have to overlook because of your good intentions. You ask if I'm dense, how foolish do I have to be to still accept you, stains and all, when this shit is still alive

So why, won't you leave me alone? Why do you refuse to sit and read the book, when the letters are etched into my skin. Pages and pages full. 2 years of this, two years I hold in my heart, and you wonder why I'm not okay every other day when still yet, I caught you just last week giving her what she wanted, instead of me.

Be honest for once, would you survive in my shoes?

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kassandras-one-braincell · 4 years ago

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Abby Anderson x GN!Reader - Please Don’t Leave Me

Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt: Please Don’t Leave Me (I’m creative with my titles)

Can be found on AO3 here.

Setting: before Abby leaves to go golfing. Abby and the reader are in an established relationship.

Warning: angst angst angst, excessive usage of the f-bomb and discussions of murder.

(Y/N) replacer safe.

Word count: 1846

Fuck, she’s really doing this.

Every day since Isaac had granted the Salt Lake Crew leave to hunt down Joel Miller, you tried to bargain with Abby, tried to make her see some sense. That killing him won’t take away any of the pain she feels. The grief. The gaping hole in her heart. But she’d always brush you off, distancing herself from you, suppressing her emotions with bicep curls and crunches as per habit.

Each passing hour, a nail was hammered into the coffin of the woman you love. And this morning is the final nail.

The quaint apartment you call home is filled with a cacophony of rustling and pleas as Abby shovels supplies into her backpack, preparing for her hunt. In her mind, Joel’s death warrant is signed, the execution nigh. And God are you desperate, trying to drill some semblance of reality into her stubborn mind one last time before she embarks on a journey she’ll only regret.

“Abby, please just listen to me for one minute—”

“I need to do this.” She heads to your small shared closet, refusing to look at you from your position by the bed. You frantically try to intercept her path, knowing full well she’s much, much stronger and can reposition you with ease. But it’s worth a try.

“This isn’t going to solve anything,” you implore, clutching the wood.

“Move, (Y/N).”

“Abby, this isn’t going to bring him back. You know that.”

“Move.” Her tone is exasperated, utterly focused on packing her shit and promptly leaving. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

“That girl in the hospital. The immune one. She must have been like a daughter to him for Joel to kill a group of innocent people for her,” you plead, feet firmly planted on the floor. Searching for her eyes, those blue irises alight with a maelstrom of hateful determination. They meet yours. “Killing him will just put her through all of this.”

Abby reaches for the closet door and slowly pulls it open, acknowledging your reluctance to move, deciding to disregard it. The wood begins to dig into your back and you’re forced to step aside. “This isn’t going to end, Abby. You fucking know this.” As she folds some spare clothes and places them in her backpack, you fall gracelessly to the bed, needing to sit down. Bile climbs up your oesophagus. Shit, where was her sense of fucking empathy?

“Abby…” Once again, she doesn’t so much as spare you a glance, folding the garments in robotic fashion. “Abby, you said she was a kid. A kid.”

The final shirt is stuffed haphazardly into the bag. She grits her teeth and turns to you. “He killed dozens of Fireflies, (Y/N). Dozens. And that’s all we fucking know of. There could be hundreds of others because he’s a stone cold killer.” Her face flushes with anger, no remnants of the woman you know left behind. “No one person is worth that many fucking lives.”

You let out a breathy laugh in sheer disbelief. “But it’s not about them, is it? Not to you.” The words escaped you in a hiss, one that didn’t go unnoticed. “Never fuckin’ has been.”

Abby rolls her eyes and grabs her maps from the coffee table, iron fist crumpling the papers beyond legibility. “There could have been a cure. A fucking cure to all this.”

On the surface, her words are rational. One life for a cure that would save millions was a worthy sacrifice, that you would be foolish to deny. But the odds of developing this cure were slim, and the girl would have likely died in vain. You knew this. Abby knew this. Jerry knew this.

With a shaky breath, you cradle your arms, never before having felt the urge to cage yourself around Abby. Fingers firmly gripping at your elbows, you let the cards fold. Unadulterated truth.

“You’re in denial, Abigail.”

A tut. “Don’t you fucking ‘Abigail’ me.” Her previous efforts to maintain a steady tone have been vanquished, anger seeping into each progressing word.

She’s gone.

And it’s this precise revelation that fills your eyes with oceans. Throat closing up, nose burning with the urge to spill over, you attempt – attempt – to articulate yourself, to no avail. Seconds later, rivulets trickle from your eyes to your cheeks, and you find yourself sniffling like some stupid kid… No, not a kid. A grieving adult, bereaved by the loss of a lover. Because the other figure in the room is but a husk of the radiant soul you fell for.

“All…” You pause to inhale, deeply: a futile effort to regulate your breathing, to lay rest to the turmoil suffocating your ability to fucking think. “All that’s going to happen is… You’re going to have to—” Hiccupping, you close your eyes, praying no more tears would fall. “To live with the guilt of orphaning a kid.”

Sentence finally out, you surrender to your sorrows, allowing them to wrack your chest with sobs and heaves until it gets too much, salt freely spilling from the floodgates. You can’t…you won’t bring yourself to look at Abby – the machine in her place, one programmed to kill and kill alone.

It’s wholly terrifying.

Distress flickers in her eyes, her frown slackening for a fraction of a second at the sound of your despair. “No one is forcing you to come,” she puts plainly, as if that has anything to do with the issue at hand.

“You know this – isn’t about that. Fuck, even Owen knows this…this is a bad idea.” Too dejected to cry. Too dejected to battle the hitched breaths you take trying to force out the words.

Words that fall upon deaf ears. “That’s not what Owen told me.” She slots a Swiss army knife into her cargo pants’ pocket, headed with a canteen in hand towards the kitchenette. “He was there, (Y/N). He agreed that Joel needs to die.”

“Because he’s fucking scared of you!” We all are, nearly breaks free from your lips, but that’s not what Abby needs to hear right now. Nothing that will push her away. Further away. The reigns you have on your lover are fraying, leaving you grasping at nought but strings. Frenzied, you attempt a softer, less concrete approach. “Baby, it isn’t normal to be so…hellbent on revenge like this.”

Silence. The delicate trickle of water sounds from the faucet as Abby fills her canteen. Then, a sigh, one of frustration as opposed to defeat. “If you think calling me ‘baby’ is going to erase four motherfucking years of grief, you are sorely mistaken. You’re smarter than that.”

Patience thinning, you stand up, wading through strewn supplies across the apartment floor towards the kitchenette. “Four years and you still haven’t given yourself time to mourn properly,” you reason, deliberately obstructing her path out of the kitchen with your body again. “Maybe if you had you’d see some fucking sense.”

God, that was a mistake. Shit, shit, shit shit shit the last thing you want to do is piss her off, not with her mind in such a volatile state, devoid of all logic.

“I appreciate you’ve lived a fucking sheltered life since the outbreak,” she seethed. What?

“That’s not true—”

“And you have no fucking idea what it’s like to have someone ripped away from you like that.” Volume rising, words a mantra fuelled by detest. “And you know, maybe, just fucking maybe, this’ll be my one chance to put an end to this shit!” The fist not clutching her backpack clenches. And for the first time ever while alone in her company, you flinch.

“He fucking deserves this, (Y/N)! If I can show him a fraction of the pain he caused me—”

“Abby, you’re scaring me,” you whimper, closing in on yourself. Genuinely afraid she’d raise her hand towards you.

Had you a mirror, you’d know truly how perturbed you look in this very moment. Streamlines drying on your cheeks, eyes reddening and puffy from crying, wide with fear like a doe face-to-face with a moving car. Body subconsciously making itself smaller, reducing its surface area, reducing the likelihood for any incoming swings to hit.

She lowers her guard, colour returning to her knuckles as she unravelled her fist. Knitted brows returning to their natural place above her eyes, mouth parted as the horror of her behaviour settles in.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” Even her previously stern voice cracks at this.

It takes tremendous willpower to not fall back as she takes a tentative step towards you.

Drying your eyes with your sleeves – her sleeves…you forgot you’re wearing her old sweater, the notion sour on your tongue – you break your mutual gaze. “You’re not you right now,” you whisper, not trusting your larynx to produce anything above a mouse’s squeak. “This isn’t the Abby I know.”

For the first time this morning, a sentiment other than bloodlust registers in her face. Hurt.

Either unable or unwilling to respond, Abby recommences her packing in solemn silence.

Shit, you have three, perchance five minutes at best to dissuade your girlfriend from leaving and doing something that will haunt her for all eternity. Yet all you can do is brace yourself against the wall and allow a second tsunami of tears to wash over you, pangs of anguish striking your heart. “Abby—”

“I’m going, (Y/N).” Firm, with a shred less conviction, but firm enough.

A violent sob tears through you as you beg, beg, the vessel of the woman you adore, “Please don’t leave me.”

For a fleeting moment, your heart stops as she hesitates in her tracks. A flicker of hope seizes your mind, that perhaps she has reconsidered, that finally some logic has entered her train of thought.

It all crashes down when she reaches for the spare rifle ammunition by the front door.

“Fuck, Abby—”

“I’ll be gone a month at most.”

Hail-Mary.

Please.

Chest shuddering with each sob that wracks through you, you utter through violently trembling lips and hiccups, “You’re so – fucking blinded – by your hatred – right now – that you can’t – fuck, see – this will – kill you—”

The gravity of the situation threatens to make your knees buckle.

Abby plucks her jacket from the coat hanger and wades over to your crippled stance by the kitchen. A hand brushes your salt-slicked cheek as a lock of hair is swept out of your line of sight. “I love you,” she whispers in pained honesty.

“Abby…” You try to take her hand, to ground her, to remind her of the life she’s leaving behind on her relentless pursuit of this warped sense of justice.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).” She squeezes your palm and lets go, zipping up her pack as the front door to the apartment creaks open and slams shut.

Death is a word that isn’t used lightly, especially not after an epidemic takes the world by storm. But part of your spirit certainly died the moment that door closed behind her.

(I’ll leave it up to you whether she has a change of heart or leaves and scores a few hits above par.)

#abby anderson x reader #im sorry :(#abby tlou #angst #bad things happen bingo

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cheekygreenty · 4 years ago

Text

I Know You - The Darkling x Reader

I was listening to Skylar Grey's song 'I Know You' on the bus home from college and got inspired, enjoy!

You couldn't believe it. You swore you knew him better than yourself. You could always predict his next move: his words, his actions. But this, it wasn't your Aleksander. You didn't want to believe Alina's hurried words as they left her lips but you had that horrid feeling in the pit of your stomach that told you she was right, or else she wouldn't be causing so much trouble for herself.

'He wants to expand the fold he created....he IS the black heretic.'

The truth made you sick yet you still found yourself wanting, foolishly hoping it was all a misunderstanding. You felt blind-sighted and stupid. The man you loved and the man who claimed to love you had blood on his hands, saints, it was up to his neck.

The reality of the situation rested on you like an unbearable weight, you had to choose a side. It was obvious though, wasn't it? No. Your heart was still with Aleksander, he was the reason for all your happiness, he was behind all of the memories that brought you comfort in times of need. Like right now.

You were very clearly in denial. You remember your talk with Alina and you cringe at your reaction. You tried to fight back, reason with her, told her she was crazy. You tried to prove you knew him but all you did was make a fool of yourself, it was then you realized he was just a stranger you shared a bed with.

You waited to confront him. He was frustrated, still in his clothes from the winter fete, as he barked orders left right and center to locate Alina and his precious stag. You knew where she was going, you helped her leave the stables with puffy eyes after your brief encounter. You even helped the tracker, quickly patching his wound and telling him which way to go to avoid being killed by Baghra or the Darkling.

You stared at him as the last of his soldiers left the war room. Silence enveloped the space. You didn't have the courage to utter the words you needed to say. He was a monster. You were sure of it now, as much as it killed you.

'I know everything' You whispered, ready to fight if the situation went sideways.

He froze but said nothing so you continued.

'You made me believe I knew you. That the man in front of me was my Aleksander, gentle and loving and understanding. I don't even recognize you right now.'

He still stayed silent. Your Aleksander always had something to say, this truly was a stranger.

'The more you stay quiet, the more I lose my hope and my patience.' You wiped some tears off your face. When did you even start crying?

'You do know me. You know the parts of me that I showed you.'

He finally looked at you. He didn't seem as heartbroken as you. He looked annoyed; like you were another part of his plan that went awry.

'Don't complicate things any more than they need to be. You lied to me. You betrayed me and my trust. I look like a fool-' Your voice started to rise.

'-Does Ivan know? I'm sure he does. How do you think that makes me look? How does that make me FEEL?'

You took measured steps towards him, well aware he wouldn't hurt you. That much you hoped you knew.

'Say something General.'

'Y/N I do love you.....but-'

You scoffed and made your way to the door. You needed to leave. Whatever respect you had for him left the minute he confessed an afterthought. You stopped when you seen shadows creep in front of the door, keeping you away.

'So you're going to cage me in?'

'I'll do what I have to to make you listen.'

'You're crazy if you think that what you're going to do is ok'

'I've made it this far.'

'Aleksander, the more you talk, the more you're proving yourself to be the worst possible man I've imagined you to be. I've lost all faith in you.'

The tears stopped at this point. You were numb, it was like you hadn't processed all the information thus far.

'You don't mean that'

'Then I guess you don't know me either.' You both stared at each other. The room was completely silent. Neither of you made a move to leave the insufferable tension. You were a foolish girl. He was a manipulative man. But you still loved him.

'What are you going to do after you leave this room?' He asked and you knew why. Your heart broke. He was going to keep you prisoner, wasn't he? At least you had helped Alina leave. You tried to convince yourself that was enough to make up for defending him.

Could you fight him right now? Make an escape? You could try. You had absolutely nothing to lose. You made a decision to betray him in return.

'You might as well put me in chains now' You held out your hands.

'I don't want to'

'But you need to, I know.' He moved closer to you and cupped your face.

'For what it's worth, I'm sorry' Your eyes closed and you bit down the urge to touch him, to be held in his embrace.

'Me too.' Before he could react, you pushed him to the other side of the room with the power of the wind, ran to the bookcase, and quickly through the passage. You ran as fast as your legs could take you, creating a noise blanket so if he went after you, he wouldn't hear your heavy breaths or your loud footsteps.

You made it outside just in time for the guard change and rode out on a horse. Your kefta long forgotten in the tunnel. You had no idea where you were going. You could go up north, catch up to Alina and the tracker and help them.

And so you did. You strode through the woods, looking for signs of them, cursing the talent of the tracker to cover his tracks. But eventually, you did, thanks to Alina's little ball of light, the small thing being visible from a mile away in the dead of night. They looked exhausted even though it had only been 2 days since they left the palace. You slowly crept up on them, glad to be breaking up an intimate moment. If you couldn’t enjoy time with your other half, neither could they.

'Y/N?' She looked at you in surprise. You had been running on pure adrenaline for the majority of your journey but it was slowly fizzling out. You quickly grew tired.

'You're going to need all of the help you can get-' you sat next to them.

'-he's never going to stop.'

At that moment you realized you did know him, but you were just refusing to look at his bad side this whole time. Your optimism and love for him will be your downfall.

*I'll make a part 2 of this eventually, but don't hold your breath, it'll definitely take a while.

Part 2

#imagine #shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #the darkling #alexander #alexander morozova #alina starkov #grisha #fanfic #mal oretsev #general kirigan x reader #ben barnes #oneshot

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unfortunatelysage · 3 years ago

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All Smoke and Mirrors- 5

Story description: Rico’s woven a web of deceit, and Margot’s a fly stuck in the middle of it. When the girl finds herself shrunken in a home to someone far bigger than herself, she figures she must be at odds with a giant. Rico, a definite human, takes her theory and runs with it, doing whatever it takes to pass off as a bloodthirsty monster. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?

CW: mentions of killing/eating people (nothing comes of it), fear leading to crying

last

first

“You get about two-thirds of it to yourself,” the giant tells Margot, though she can barely process his words in her current state.

She awkwardly tries to shuffle around in his fist in an attempt to get more breathing room. He’s not crushing her, but it’s a snug grip that makes taking a deep breath quite a task.

Two-thirds? That’s surely expansive, but she’s always been one to toss and turn at night- what if he’s the same? “But what if you… roll over or something?” she asks, gaining eye contact with Rico.

His reply is as blunt as it is unreliable. “I won’t.”

He’s already threatened to hurt her. All it would take is one wrong move in his sleep to suffocate her, if not flat out crush her.

“Rolling over would be a lame way to kill you,” he tacks on, as if reading her mind. “If I didn’t trust you’d be safe, I wouldn’t do it.”

Margot’s stumped. Does he want her safe or not? She’d like to ask more, but it’s probably not worth the risk.

Rico uses his free hand to flick off the light to his room and stomps to his bed, setting her down lightly on the far end of the mattress.

His staggering form takes a seat as well, slightly creaking the internals of the bed and shifting the rest upward, elevating the human.

She feels his eyes on her, even in darkness, and backs up further away from him. To be safe, she lays down and closes her eyes to feign sleep, despite the hundreds of thoughts racing around her mind, making genuine sleep seem impossible.

He lays down himself without a word, but also silently pulls up a large portion of his blanket and sets it near her. She tries not to flinch as his hands come near her again, but he likely notices anyway.

Before long, she cracks open an eye and can make out his chest rising and falling with a slow consistency.

Opening her other eye, Margot slowly sits up, eyes never leaving the giant. With a shaky exhale, she backs up just a bit more.

He never turns over. A sigh of relief escapes the human.

Now’s not a great time to sleep, but Margot figures such a time doesn’t exist anymore. Her eyes flick up over Rico to the bedroom door, slightly ajar. Then she leans over the side of the bed. Carpeted floor. It probably wouldn’t be too hard a fall.

Temptation grips at her, almost screaming at her to go for it. But then she turns back to look at Rico.

It’s a suicide mission. She’d be foolish to try it, knowing there’d be no way to leave. Where would she even go if she did leave? Her only bet would be to hide within the house, which is already a bad idea. He said he can track her down by scent. It’s just a game of cat and mouse from there.

Besides, he hasn’t eaten once since she got there. Would it be so outlandish to assume he’s already waiting for her to act out of line so he gets a meal out of it?

In that case, how long will he go until he decides to just eat her anyway, regardless of her being on her best behavior? If it’s just in a giant’s nature to eat humans, isn’t her fate inevitable?

All the more reason to leave, she figures. But she’d probably be better off putting that off for as long as she can.

Living out the rest of her days in fear. What did she do to deserve such a condemnation? Margot twists her face in frustration, racking her brain to try and remember where she was leading up to her being here.

She knows she’d never seen Rico before being in his home- she couldn’t have been kidnapped by him, unless her memory was just that wiped.

She remembers sitting at home, reading while her brother strikes up a conversation. Dad was at work last she remembers. He’s got to be home by now, probably calling every emergency line.

Nothing pointing to how she could’ve ended up here. Maybe Rico knows. Maybe she should ask.

Maybe she’s better off staying quiet. Tears pool in her eyes, finally giving way as she silently lets them run down her face. She’s never been given the opportunity to fully cry until now, she realizes. How she didn’t break down immediately upon being seen, she may never know.

Her silent weeping is cut short by Rico, who turns from sleeping on his back to facing her, never opening his eyes. As if her breathing wasn’t staggered enough, she inhales sharply and backs away from the beast.

Even when asleep, he won’t let her cry.

She’d love nothing more than to punch him, kick him, scream at him. Everything in her power to hurt him. But it wouldn’t mean anything. It wouldn’t even scratch him. He’d just scoop her up like he has before, and she’d be gone within seconds.

It’s just not fair. He thinks he has all the power in the world over her, just because he’s a giant. The worst part of that sentiment is that he’s right.

But… her eyes flick to the blanket again. He left out a great deal of it for her. And he got her water earlier. And he trusted her be safe in bed with him. Shouldn’t she be grateful?

She would laugh at the idea, if not for how close she is to the giant. What an asinine notion. Grateful? For what? The bare minimum? Whatever that entails. If “the bare minimum” is refraining from eating her or stepping on her or whatever he really wants to do, then she doesn’t think it’s all that selfish to ask for more.

Maybe he’ll soften up. Maybe he’ll soften up. Maybe he’ll soften up. She keeps replaying the sentiment, taking it less and less seriously each time.

He might be softer than he’s willing to let on. Something is… off about him. She can’t pinpoint it yet, but she feels it in her gut.

Whether he’s actually kind under a hard exterior is irrelevant- he’s choosing to treat her like some… toy. Or pest. She can’t figure it out.

As she contemplates, she stares at the giant. A nice change of pace from the opposite. With how dark the room is, she can barely make out his shadowed facial features. His lips are barely parted. But she’s not too keen on staring at his mouth right now. Or ever.

So humanlike, it’s almost terrifying. Other than some behavioral differences, the difference between the two really boils down to size and size alone. Margot can’t decide if that helps rationalize the situation, or make it more frustrating.

She figured such evil conduct could only be found in humanity. Being given the option between kindness and hostility and choosing the latter. But she’s been wrong a lot today.

Rico shifts again, turning to his other side. Back to her. She’ll be quick to admit, it’s a lot less nerve-wracking. If he wakes up now, at least she won’t be the first thing he sees.

She silently curses him for being able to fall asleep so quickly, while she’s condemned to waking anxiety of his doing.

Maybe her best form of spite at a time like this would be to sleep anyway. The constant motion and stirring emotions are catching up to her now, and even through her thoughts, she can sense her drowsiness.

The vast expanse of blanket sits where it has all night, luring her. Teasing her. A gesture of… whatever definition of “kindness” her captor has.

As much as she’d like to ignore it, she’d be remiss to pass it up all the same. Bitterly, Margot pulls the cover over herself and rolls into it, letting it wrap around her small form. Though some fragmented anxieties still swirl around in her brain, eventually she settles into a dreamless sleep.

It feels as though only seconds had passed when she’s thrown into the air.

Eyes ripping open, Margot’s sight is illuminated as she’s airborne, desperately clinging onto the blanket as she unravels from it. As quickly as she’s lifted, she’s dropped back onto the mattress, the cover falling over her.

“Damnit, human!” A gruff and all-too-familiar voice shouts, louder than she’s ever seen him. “When I find you, you’re dead meat!” She can’t see from under the blanket, but feels Rico stomping around the room, shaking her all the same.

A thousand frantic thoughts run through the girl’s mind, all the more confusing in her half awake state. He’s looking for her? She never left! Will he still punish her when she never even acted out of line?

She wants to sort out whether she should stay or hide further, when light floods her vision again as he rips back the blanket, revealing the shaking human.

He’s absolutely furious.

“Please!” she shouts, staring back into his simmering glare. “I didn’t even try to leave! I’ve been here all night! Please, believe me!” Embarrassingly, tears start to form through her groggy pleas, growing quieter as they spill out of her. “Please, please don’t hurt me. I didn’t try to leave. Please.”

Something in the giant’s glare breaks. With a huff, he throws the blanket back on the bed, narrowly missing the human woman.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he imparts quietly, looking away. “I just couldn’t see you, and thought you tried to leave.”

Something clicks in Margot, throwing her off.

“I… I thought you could track humans by scent,” she mentions shakily. “You couldn’t smell me?”

He flashes his eyes to her again, making her shrink back. “It’s… it’s not as strong under covers. I thought it was the remnants of your scent,” he states, almost stammering.

She furrows her brown in confusion of his tone, but doesn’t press further. She’s already dealt with enough of his anger today, and she’s barely been awake five minutes.

“I’ll be right back,” Rico grumbles. “Don’t even think about leaving the bed.”

And so he stomps away, leaving a shaking, disheveled, and confused Margot to herself.

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t writing #ocs: margot and rico

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shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

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A Wife for Thor Pt.16

No One

02/04/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,025

Warnings: angst, jealousy, crying, infertility, talk of pregnancy, trouble conceiving, smut, LOTS of fluff

A/N: I’m sorry this one took me a bit to get out. I know y’all tell me not to be sorry but I am still sorry lol I stopped taking my endo meds since I can no longer afford them with no healthcare, I got my period and my endo said FUCK YOU! I was in bed for the entirety of my period with no energy to do anything but lay there and do nothing. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I’ve been excited to get to this chapter and I hope it’s worth the wait. Thank you for any comments or reblogs! xoxo

Thor has never been so eager to get back to New Asgard. Even back in the beginning when Jane had been living with him in those first small houses that they’d built when his new Kingdom was nothing but a distant dream.

Even then, this sensation of yearning had not been so strong.

Every moment away from you has been unbearable. The detour he’d taken after just arriving only increased his desire because if seeing Jane has shown him anything it’s that he has indeed made the right choice.

He really hadn’t doubted it, but it’s nice to know that even with Jane standing inches away from him, his heart had not pounded. His breath had not caught. His fingers had not tingled as they once had in their wish to touch.

Her brown eyes, once beyond beautiful, are indeed still pretty. However, they aren’t yours. Yours that look at him with an innocent admiration. Love pours from them so freely. Eagerly.

You’re not afraid to show him how you feel and it takes his breath away how much you’ve given into loving him.

All he can do is try to return your love with the same fervor. So far he thinks he has been doing the job well.

As he struts forward towards your shared bedroom, he reaches into his cloak, down along his left hip to unhook a small leather satchel bulging with its contents.

Smiling down at what he hopes will be a welcome and pleasing gesture, he makes to open the doors to the room but finds them thrust out towards him.

Instinctively his hand twitches around the satchel, almost throwing his palm out to call his remade hammer, but he resists.

From his bedroom spill two beings. One Asgardian, one human. The doors swing shut behind them.

“Doctor Wilson? Alric?” Thor teeters back onto his right foot, completely surprised to see them. “What brings-?”

Both of them look grave and Thor’s heart hits the pit of his stomach. All of the strength in the universe leaves him in one terrifying instant.

“Is Y/N alright? Is she hurt? Injured? Has something happened?”

In his panic he begins to push through them and they move aside for him but before he can open the doors to get in to see you, Alric reaches out to place his hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“Just our monthly visit, nothing to fret about Your Majesty,” Alric assures him and yet, Thor’s squirming nerves are not put at ease. “Unfortunately things do not look well for an heir as of now.”

“They don’t exactly look bad either, Alric,” Doctor Wilson interjects. “We’re in uncharted territory, Your Majesty. We have to play this as it comes at us. I’m sure with Alric’s help we’ll find a way to make it work.”

Their words at the moment aren’t making any sense to Thor. All he wants is to see you.

“Right…” he says on reflex, but his voice is weak.

His mind on you and only you.

“She is a little melancholy after our news so, perhaps it’s best we let you go see her. Until next month, Your Majesty,” Doctor Wilson gives him a curtsy. “If you need us before then, you have our numbers.”

Alric gives Thor a bow and the two of them march off, Alric lugging a strange metal case along with him.

With nothing to hold him back now, Thor pulls the doors open and hurries inside.

He scans the room from the left to the right, expecting you in the bathroom but you aren’t there. Several of the doors to the balcony are open letting in a much warmer breeze than this morning but still very cool.

Thor finally spots you sitting at your vanity, your hand pressed to the inside of your elbow as you hold a small cotton ball against the point at which one of your doctors probably drew some blood.

Even that tiny sting of a needle piercing your beautiful skin makes his heart ache. Any pain you feel is his own and he can’t believe he forgot what today was.

“Cherub?”

You don’t look at him and instead keep your hand pressed tightly, fingers moving in slow and small circles.

He can’t see your face from here. You’re turned away, sitting with your gaze trained on the balcony doors closest to your vanity.

Thor can’t take you not looking at him. He sets his satchel on the chaise at the end of the bed and when he reaches your left side, he squats down so that he can look up at you, his right hand taking gentle hold under your left bicep. His left hand he places over your right one, pressed against the inside of your left elbow.

“I’m sorry about today. I forgot they were coming for your tests,” Thor confesses, feeling so guilty he could leap from the balcony and welcome the pain of any bones he might break.

The silence is heavy and he thinks he might really be in for it and opens his mouth to plead for your forgiveness when you give him relief, “So did I.”

He breathes in deeply and with a wave of relief releases his worries in a gust of air.

“Alric said that things did not look good. You’re not with child?”

Even though he knows, he still needs to hear you say it. He wants to know what you’re thinking to make whatever is making your face look so sad go away.

He takes his right hand and runs it along your lower back instead, rubbing in what he hopes is a soothing way.

Finally, you turn your head towards your vanity and he can see more of your heartbreaking expression. He hasn’t seen that loss of hope in your beautiful face since the night you begged him not to make a fool of you just before dinner on a night that feels a lifetime away.

“No, it-it wasn’t a no. The test was inconclusive.”

“Inconclusive? So, what does that mean? Does that mean they don’t know?” Thor asks, confusion twisting his handsome face.

“No, it just means that the test didn’t come back in any way that they could read it. We’re not exactly the same species even if we are compatible physically, we don’t know if we can even get pregnant. They took more of my blood and are going to do the test with more reliable equipment.

“They’ll call when they know something,” you sigh heavily, leaning back against your seat and trapping his hand between it and your body.

Thor tries to think of what he can say to make you feel better. What can he do?

And then what he has to say doesn’t matter as you turn to meet his gaze with your own full of betrayal and suspicion.

When your mouth parts, your words freeze him and his brain short circuits.

“I saw you with Jane earlier on the tower, Thor. I’m sorry but I-I thought you were going to come find me as soon as you got back, not your ex.”

You take a deep breath and Thor watches as your nerves spill forward, your lips trembling as you slowly exhale and all of your fears shine out through the depths of your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you crying, cherub?” Thor gushes, pulling his hand from your back to turn your seat to face him.

He cups both sides of your face, his large thumbs wiping away at the tears that spring forward.

It had seriously messed with you to see him and Jane so happy and close earlier. And then the tests and Doctor Alric and Doctor Wilson had no idea what was wrong with them so that was stressing you out.

All of your jealousy and frustration pours out of you suddenly. So fast and so unrelenting that with just this small bit of affection from Thor makes you shut your eyes tight as you sob two-three times.

“Y/N...no, my love, please. Don’t cry,” Thor begs, his own throat tight as he pulls you towards him.

You let him hold you because as insecure as you feel, as upset as this morning has made you, his love still feels real. The softness in his voice doesn’t sound fake and as much as he is the source of one of the aches in your chest, he’s your comfort now too.

How fucked up is that?!

He caresses the back of your head as you bury it against his shoulder, slumped down a little because of how low he is in his squat.

His other arm is wrapped all the way around you, firm. Possessive and eager to make you feel better. Can you trust this display?

Until this morning you had no reason to doubt it.

“We will have our baby soon, I know it. I can feel it. I’m not only the God of Thunder, you know? Trust me, cherub. I know these things. We’ll have our little one before you know it.”

He sounds so confident, so sure. He’s lost that tightness in his throat a little and he pushes you back so that he can look into your eyes, quickly wiping away at the saltwater stains on your cheeks.

“As for your former worry, I went to the tower because the lights were on. I wasn’t sure who was there so I simply went to check. I wasn’t expecting Jane out of all the people it could have possibly been.

“I’d hoped it was you, finally making use of the tower for your own office to write or perhaps your own personal library?” Thor’s instincts on what you might want a private space to be.

You suddenly feel foolish for doubting him for even a second. It makes you cry again, and you bury your face in your hands.

“No, my love, please don’t cry anymore,” he continues to beg. “Look, I’ve brought you a gift.”

He gets up suddenly and moves towards the package he’d been carrying when he came in. It wasn’t large. About the size of a shoebox.

“I thought of you when I was passing over Paris on my way home. You can eat them all at once or slowly, whichever you prefer,” He flips open the leather satchel and from inside pulls a thick and shiny rust colored box with a satin brown ribbon that delicately holds it closed.

It looks expensive and he doesn’t wait for you to take it since you’re too busy wiping at your cheeks and sniffling to grab it. He pushes the ribbon off of the box then removes the lid and places it underneath while tossing the ribbon onto your vanity.

“I’m not sure what each of them is, but you don’t have to eat the ones you don’t like. I’ll eat them for you,” he pushes fancy gold tissue paper aside to expose the contents within.

Inside the box is a tray of twenty-four chocolate pieces. Some of them have designs painted on them with what is more likely more chocolate in bright colors and patterns. Other pieces look to be decorated in plain chocolate with small embossed hearts, triangles, or teeny tiny bows.

The box is too thick for this to be all there is, so you’re pretty sure there are two trays of chocolates.

“Do you like them?” Thor checks, his voice light and rising at the end gently almost as if he’s talking to a small child which maybe should offend you?

But it doesn’t because you know that’s not what he means by the tone he’s using. He’s being as gentle with you as he can in your moment of sad anxiety and you love him so much for it.

“They’re so pretty…” you hiccup, wishing you weren’t so emotional and crying all over his lovely gift.

“That’s not all,” he tells you, putting the chocolates on your vanity to free up his hands to reach into his satchel again.

You quickly cover the chocolates, pushing the ribbon around the sleek container before they can be ruined.

Thor tosses the satchel onto the chaise with a flick of his wrist but draws your attention to him when he places another box on your lap. This one is much smaller, but wide and square.

“Happy two months of marriage, cherub,” Thor says softly, then carefully lifts the lid of his second gift.

Nestled within lush purple velvet is a beautiful platinum chain, thin, short so that the gorgeous lotus flower with your birthstone gem settled at its very center will sit just below your collarbone.

“It’s so beautiful, Thor.”

All of a sudden you’re crying again.

Thor smiles and rises again, taking the necklace from inside the box which he tosses onto the chaise too before moving around behind you to slip the necklace around your neck.

You reach up to place your fingers on the pretty flower, sniffling and trying not to make your crying too vocal but a sob or two slips out.

Thor moves back around you and takes a long look at your mess of a face before he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, “Come here, love.”

He waits for you to stand then takes your spot on your seat but then leads you down onto his lap.

Reaching up with his hand, he gives the back of your neck a squeeze while his other hand finds a resting spot on your thigh.

“Is it Jane still upsetting you?” he guesses.

You nod, unwilling to say it aloud.

“Why? What exactly is it that’s troubling you?”

He genuinely doesn’t seem to understand. While he might understand your nerves about her, the reason you’re still crying is lost on him.

You don’t want to say, but Thor bounces you a little in his lap, taking his hand to caress the side of your face and hold your gaze.

“Nothing you can say will make me love you any less.” A promise.

“When I saw you two this morning, you just looked so h-happy,” your lip quivers. “You looked happy. Pleased. You were smiling that one smile that’s only supposed to be mine.”

For some reason Thor’s chest puffs up a little, a proud fix to his chin as he reaches up to grab yours and give your head a little shake.

“It is all yours, cherub. I am completely yours. I was so happy when I was with Jane this morning because I felt nothing of what I’d once felt for her. I had no stuttering in my heart, no butterflies in my belly. I wasn’t taken by her eyes or tempted by her lips.”

“Alright, I get the picture,” you grumble, hating everything he’s describing even though you know he’s telling you that he wasn’t feeling any of it.

He chuckles, bringing his hand down to rest on your hip.

“I was happy because Jane is no longer the source of all of that for me. You are. All meeting her so unexpectedly proved is that I am more in love with you than I ever thought I could be. You were my arranged match. The most I had ever expected was friendship. And when that turned into more, I wondered if it could really be more than what I ever felt for Jane and it is.

“Jane was always a dear love but you are family. It’s only been a short time since we married but you are more my love than Jane ever was. You’re my cherub!”

He doesn’t wait for you to recover from his little speech. He hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you down for a kiss.

It quickly changes and shifts and the lonely night you’d spent tense and worried, missing him, explodes you onto him. You’re both a frenzy of movement, Thor ripping away at his armor until he’s in the plain dark undershirt and a very small pair of black briefs.

You’re about to push him onto your bed when he suddenly grabs you and tosses you around his massive body and onto the bed to bounce as you land with a gasp.

He shoves his briefs down, still kicking them away as he steps towards you and gathers the long skirts of your dress higher and higher around your hips.

“Thor…” you whisper, a gasp of anticipation which drives him a little wild as he yanks you closer to the edge of the bed and thrusts into you with a shaky groan.

He goes still for a moment, hooking his hands around your thighs more securely. He bottoms out, sheathing his cock within you until you reach down to scratch at the bottom of his shirt then his hands as you fall back against the bed.

“Please,” you plead and he quickly obliges.

He pumps into you, filling you to the brim with no intention of ever stopping.

~~~~~~~~~~

You and Thor eventually come out of your room. You dressed in your carefully chosen dress and Thor a little less regal in a pair of crisp dark jeans, and layered up in a green sweater over a blue button up collar shirt over a plain white t-shirt.

Honestly though, even in his slightly more casual ensemble, Thor screams royalty. He’s so beautiful.

Both of you giggling like giddy kids, he pulls you closer and loops your arm through his.

It makes you happy that he likes you close by. He proves it now as he leans down to whisper so that only you can hear him as the palace staff moves about cleaning and fixing up the rooms that have been used throughout the day.

“I’m a little glad you’ve decided not to use the tower for a workspace.” Thor confesses.

“How come?” you wonder, turning your face to look at him, genuinely curious as to the change of mind. He’d been so insistent before about you having your own personal space to work in peace where no one could bother you and you didn’t have to give up writing your stories even if you were now Queen of New Asgard.

“I don’t know if I could stand having you that far away from me. Our night apart has only driven that home for me. I want you always at my side.”

His sentiment is sweet and you stop to turn and face him, reaching up to place your hands on his bearded cheeks to smoosh them because he’s so damn adorable. He’s massive so you have to push yourself up, lifting your heels a little to do so comfortably.

“Do you have any idea how incredibly lovable that makes you?” you ask.

He smiles despite you morphing his face, beaming down at you with a look that must mean he loves you. Everything he says has to be true. The more you think about it, the more you realize that your jealousy, while founded, doesn’t make any sense now that you’re married.

Not after everything the two of you have shared and been through. Not after all the time you’ve spent building this foundation with him.

“Quite a lot more than I was before?” he guesses. “Only, maybe not when I go to the bathroom?”

Through your smile you tilt your head to the side a little, confused by his amendment to his desires.

“Why?” What difference does it make?

He drops his voice to a whisper and leans down a little closer to you, “Sometimes I have smelly poops.”

You’re not expecting that and throw your head back as a loud unfiltered laugh rips through you. The movement pulls you down flat onto your feet but Thor catches you with one arm around your waist to pull you back up onto your toes and against his hard body.

He’s laughing too as he dips down and kisses your laughing mouth, silencing you a little so that it’s only air slipping through your lips as you kiss him back.

It’s just a long held peck. He’s relishing in the feel of your lips against his as your body shakes with more laughter.

Still laughing with you, Thor pulls back and gripes, “Stop laughing and kiss me!”

You drop your head against his chest as you keep laughing, unable to help it because the cuteness of him being self-conscious about his smelly poops is too much for you to handle.

Especially considering that you’ve both already been in the bathroom together when the other is using the toilet.

He loosens his arm around your waist so that you fall down a little further but keeps his hand resting on the small of your back while the other hand he places on the back of your head, caressing it as you chuckle weakly from laughing so much.

The sound of a clearing throat brings both your heads turning to the end of the hallway.

Your visiting trio stand there, Tony smirking, Bruce smiling shyly, Jane averts her eyes.

“Uh, get a room?” Tony suggests, but you can tell from his tone that he’s only teasing.

“Where do you think we’ve been all morning?” Thor grins, readjusting with you to hook your arm on his elbow before leading you towards your guests.

“So that’s what those screams were,” Tony counters.

Thor wiggles his eyebrows at them but your neck burns and your mouth pops open in surprise and embarrassment.

You start to fret, hands fluttering up towards your new necklace as you look from Tony to Jane, who’s looking at her shoes, to Bruce who is smiling with his own laughter in his eyes.

“Was I-? I didn’t mean to-! Thor, I didn’t know that I was being-” your panic is real and your heart is thrumming a million miles an hour.

“He’s teasing you, cherub, don’t worry,” Thor assures you, dropping your arm from his elbow to wrap his own arm around your waist to pull you into his side again.

You turn to Tony and he’s laughing a little. Not maliciously, just purely entertained by your reaction.

“I-a joke?” you ask him, still uncertain.

“Sorry,” Tony says, nodding. “Just a joke.”

You swallow hard, trying to settle your heartbeat.

Thor kisses your head and like a switch is flipped, all of them shift into work mode.

“Have you started installing the security system?” Thor asks Tony and all together the five of you move down into the lowest level of the palace which actually happens to be a dungeon?

You’re not really listening to their conversation as you move with them, still flustered about you possibly letting all of your sex noises reverberate through the halls of the palace for everyone to hear, but when you reach a large vault-like door, you start to focus again.

As the heavy door slides open like part of some futuristic spaceship, you’re thrown into a large room about the size of the throne room where you’d had your wedding reception only it looks nothing like the rest of the palace.

This place looks more like the Avengers compound. High-tech stations line the walls, large monitors with readings you don’t understand and camera footage from places you recognize from around New Asgard and the palace itself.

There’s a full crew working all of the stations, Asgardians and humans, all of them wearing the same charcoal gray uniforms, splashes of gold and red like Thor’s cape on their shoulders and chests.

As you and Thor enter, they stop what they’re doing to stand at attention, bowing to both of you as Thor leads you to the center of the room where a large stone table is set with schematics of plans that you don’t understand.

Tony moves over to them and starts to sift through the many scrolls all laid out for viewing while Thor nods to the crew.

“At ease, my friends.”

He’s so nice. The crew fall back into their respective jobs.

One of them moves towards a large screen against the wall, a TV you realize, playing different news footage from all over the world.

He flips to another channel and you pull away from Thor to walk and stand beside the crewman who stands taller once you’re beside him.

He turns to you and gives you a quick bow, “Your Majesty.”

Turning to him, you smile and then look back at the screen, “To monitor any weird things happening around Earth?”

“Yes, m’am,” he asserts then flips the channel again.

This time it’s a documentary style report, you see a familiar scene. New York in shambles as Iron Man, Hawkeye, Black Widow, the Hulk, Captain America, and your Thor fight off the invading Chitauri.

Slowly another body settles beside you, its warmth drawing your attention to it.

“I still remember that day, sort of,” Bruce says gently, his voice always so easy and calm.

It’s hard to believe he can turn into the giant Hulk in seconds.

“Was it scary?”

“Sort of. I think for me, I was just worried that Hulk would hurt someone other than the aliens. But by then I think he understood what side we were on.” Bruce nods.

“But, aren’t you the Hulk?” His words confuse you a little.

“Well, yeah, but also no. He’s like another half of me? If that makes sense? I haven’t worked out how to combine both sides yet. I’m there, I’m just...it’s like someone takes who you are and reduces you to your most basic instincts.

“We’re almost like two different people but we’re also the same person. I’m working on understanding our connection better. Underneath the Hulk, I’m still me. I’m still there I think. I’m just trapped for some reason.”

The two of you watch the screen in silence for a moment then Thor shows up, blasting the Chitauri with his lightning. He looks a little different because he has both eyes and his hair!

“Thor had long hair,” you realize, gushing a little.

“Did I look better with long hair?” his deep voice slips into your right ear and you jump not having been expecting it.

“Not better,” you promise him, smiling at him before turning your eyes back on the TV. “Just different. It suits you.”

“Should I grow it back?”

With excitement, you turn to face him and he chuckles at whatever look you have in your eyes, “Would you? Wouldn’t it bother you?”

“If it will make you look at me the way you’ve been staring at me on that television, I will go out and buy a wig.”

You laugh and Thor leans down to give you a quick peck.

“It’s that time of year I guess,” Tony says, sliding over to stand on Bruce’s other side where Jane is already standing having moved over at some point.

She still hasn’t said anything.

“What time of year?” You wonder.

“Oh, in Spring they always start to play footage on some of the news channels about Loki’s party days in New York. Some type of anniversary celebration or something? Only it’s more like a wake.”

“It’s a memorium,” you realize, then look at Thor who seems to sense your upset.

He wraps his arm around you and settles in beside you, kissing the top of your head again.

“Where is Loki?” you ask him, frowning with worry and wondering if it must upset him to have one of his biggest mistakes thrown in his face for weeks.

“He’s tending to business with the guard. He’ll come find us when he’s finished,” Thor promises.

After a tense moment, Tony claps his hands and then pats Bruce’s shoulder, “Shall we? Pepper wants me home by Friday so that we can explore the wonderful art of tantric massage.”

As Bruce turns to follow Tony back to the center table where a new console computer has come from a panel at the center you hadn’t noticed, he gives him a skeptical look.

“Pepper? Are you sure it isn’t you pushing the tantric massage?” Bruce sounds like he already knows the answer.

Tony shrugs, “I’m not the bossy anymore.”

You look back at the TV, your worry only spiking at the thought of Loki coming down here and finding all of you watching.

“Change it to something else,” you tell the crewman. “Make sure no one puts it on that channel again.”

“Yes, m’am,” he bows his head in obedience and quickly changes the channel while moving to a small box hooked up to it where a small screen comes out and he quickly goes about pressing buttons hopefully blocking any and all sources of that footage so that Loki doesn’t accidentally have his face shoved into his past.

“Don’t worry, my cherub. Loki is well aware of what the Earth grieves at this time of year. He won’t be blindsided by it.”

“I still don’t like it,” you insist, unable to shake the frown from your face.

“Thor?” Jane’s voice interrupts you both softly.

He looks at her and you give her a glance before turning to look at the news reports on the TV.

“I’m gonna need one of these mainframes for the telescope. Which one can I take?”

“Right,” Thor nods, “Of course. Let’s find you a place to work.”

Before he leaves you he leans in and kisses the side of your head again, squeezing your hip before he moves with Jane away towards the many workstations in the very large room.

After getting everything sorted out this morning, your heart doesn’t even sway towards jealousy and even though you’re worried about Loki, you breathe a sigh of relief that your realization about Thor’s loyalty has really engrained itself into you.

He loves you and nothing will change that. Even as they laugh somewhere behind you, your confidence doesn’t waver.

You reach up and touch the lotus on your necklace, a shining reminder of Thor missing you on his very first night away from you since your wedding.

You’re sure now that no one will ever come between you and Thor.

No one.

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