#here’s your second chance marvel: fix what did
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Listen, listen. I’m very conflicted about this turn of events, too (mostly because Russos, I would be higher than a freaking kite right now if Favs were directing one or both of the upcoming films). But I’m reading all these reaction posts (Doomscrolling if you will - haha see what I did there?) and …. can y’all just PLEASE let us be happy for 5 minutes??? Overall, I am hopeful about this, and we need hope in this gigantic crap fest of a world.
There is a LOT of narrative potential and a lot of compelling directions they could take this (marvel, do not turn me into this —> 🤡 in 2026). Seeing what they did in Deadpool & Wolverine honestly gives me hope. I don’t think RDJ would come back for a just a cheap cash grab, he doesn’t need it.
Given the hole the MCU has dug for itself with this multiverse shit and the history of the comics, going this way actually makes some sense. (Then again, in 2018, I was adamant that they wouldn’t kill Tony in Endgame because it would just be a stupid idea and we know how that turned out 🤡🤡🤡).
Anyway, my point, if there is one, is that we have a few Schrödinger years to be optimistic and come up with a bunch of cool possibilities (until Marvel shits the bed again).
Until then, I’mma be happy:
#the avengers#mcu#rdj#dr doom#yes I’m still bitter as f that they killed my man and think they can fix everything just like that#but like… you can’t say this doesn’t make sense#I don’t know that they’re doing but I’ve always figured superior iron man was in the deck somewhere#maybe this is their way of doing that but in a different way#and secret wars needs doom so logically….#and this could just tie a whole bunch of shit from the infinity saga into the next few movies#it also gives the potential for a tony vs doom and showdown and my ovaries are bursting at the thought#and all kinds of iron fam angstttt#here’s your second chance marvel: fix what did#is anyone reading this?#if so I’ll be honest I just wanted to post this pic
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omg congrats on the 5k! can i order a freshly baked slice of warm vanilla cake [🍰] for bitchykook! reader + “you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid” + smut
warnings: kinda mean!reader lol, rafe is desperateeee, oral sex (f. receiving), rafe finishes in his pants (!!!)
rafe wasn’t a desperate guy. he could have any girl he wanted, except you of course, and that drove him crazy. he was so used to girls bending at his will, that when he made advances towards you and you outright rejected him, it threw him for a loop. “fuck a guy that’s been in every bed in figure eight? no, thank you.” you blew him a kiss, walking off with a laugh as your friends cackled alongside you. rafe’s ego had definitely taken a blow that night, and it was from that point forward that he decided to make it a mission to get you to say yes to him.
he would find out where you and your clique would be for the evening and show up, buying rounds of drinks for you and your girlfriends, only to not be acknowledged or even waved at by you. rafe couldn’t crack you and he hated it. taking it a step further, he managed to get dozens of flowers sent over to your house, a pathetic little card with the words ‘just one time.’ written in gold script was folded into one of the bouquets. the next time you saw him, he wasted no time in asking if you’d received his ‘romantic’ gesture. “i did actually! but just for future reference, roses aren’t my favorite. bye now!”
you had left rafe at a loss for words, and feeling more defeated than ever. apart of you would feel bad if he was begging for a chance to actually be with you instead of just using you to add to his list. that was one of the reasons why you were being so cruel to him, the second reason being; you loved to see the drop in his shoulders everytime he thought he had you. a few weeks had passed, and you were throwing a party for your best friend, the entirety of figure eight taking over your home. “i’ll be right back, i’m going to go get your gift.” your bestie squealed excitedly as you went upstairs to your bedroom.
walking over to your closet, you had grabbed the glittery pink gift bag, your door clicking shut as you fixed the white tissue paper peeking at the top. “chanel! this is supposed to be a surprise..” you looked up, being met with rafe instead. “what do you think you’re doing in here?” you arched a brow at him, jutting your hip out as he fiddled with his fingers. “i just wanna talk.” he held his hands up defensively. narrowing your eyes at him, you placed chanel’s gift on your nightstand before taking a seat at the edge of your bed. “well.. talk.” you watched as he lowered himself to his knees.
you laughed. “rafe, what the hell?” you let him rest his hands on your thighs. “why won’t you give me a chance?” his eyebrows were drawn together, a pleading expression on his face. “a chance to get me out of my panties?” rafe sighed. “you want it that bad?” you weren’t surprised, rafe wasn’t the first man to get on his knees for you. “yes, i’m begging.” you studied him for a moment. “i’ll tell you what..” you leaned forward, “you could have a taste.” rafe’s fingers curled into your skin, nodding frantically as he spread your thighs apart. you watched him slide the lace material of your underwear down your legs, your dress pooling at your waist.
rafe cursed at the sight of your bare cunt. he’s been fantasizing about this for months. “fuck, you’re gorgeous.” he marveled, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes fluttering closed when you felt his tongue run up your glossy folds. “oh my god- you taste so good.” while everyone knew rafe to be an intimidating man with an even rougher exterior, you had him crying at the fact that he got to eat you out. so, so, so pathetic. rafe was already hard as a rock, his cock straining painfully against his jeans.
“holy fuck, i can’t believe this is happening.” he felt his chest bloom with pride when he made you moan, desperate to make you do it again. his tongue worked skillfully on your clit as he palmed himself to relieve some tension in his groin. you couldn’t deny the way rafe had you melting into his touch, your skin sore from where he had a bruising grip on your thigh. you reached down, nails running across his head as he ate you like a man starved. “rafe..” you whimpered, hips chasing his mouth as your voice echoed in his ears. he could die happy knowing you moaned his name.
rafe was still palming himself through his pants, a groan leaving his lips when he felt his cock twitch with need. “please let me fuck you.” he gazed up at your pretty face, meeting your eyes as if to persuade you to let him have his way. “just the tip, baby, please.” you shook your head, propping yourself up on your elbows. “you wanna fuck me so bad, it makes you look stupid.” soon after you said those words, you were shaking in his arms as he brought you to your orgasm, a cry leaving your lips. rafe’s eyes widened. you weren’t the only one who made a mess.
he brought you down from your high, cursing under his breath when he looked down and saw a wet patch on the front of his jeans. following his eyes, you placed a hand over your mouth aa you gasped at the sight. “oh my god, did you cum in your pants, ‘cameron?” you giggled using your heel clad foot to push him away. “you should probably go home and clean yourself up..” was the last thing you said before leaving him alone and taking chanel’s gift downstairs.
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#𐙚⋆°. victoria’s 5k celebration#₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!kook!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#obx#obx rafe#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#drew starkey
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Spring Beast and Silver Queen
Day 6 and here we have the second otp! Like Tamcien (or Feylincien) and Neris own my heart but Neslin has so much potential that I wouldn't mind them being endgame in a Canon. So here's a little oneshot for them with some Fairytale tropes. Hope you like!
@tamlinweek
Tamlin Week 2024- Day 6- Fairy Tale AU
Spring Beast & Silver Queen
Nesta walked onto the decayed manor, it was just as destroyed as the rest of the court.
Lucien might be the only one to come here out of genuine care, but if the mild mannered redhead couldn't do more than this that meant the High Lord was all but dead inside. She understood. Nesta felt the same way.
She found Tamlin sleeping. The male was in his beast form, like that day when he came to their cottage and took her sister. There were times she wished that hadn't happened. Now, she just wished she'd ran when she had the chance.
It didn't matter anymore. It was either Spring or a lock up on Night, and she'd take her chances with the wilted flowers.
Nesta came into the room slowly. A bird that slept on Tamlin's mane woke up, and left out the window, sparing her one last glance.
She kneeled on the floor and gently patted the man. He was alive, just deeply asleep, and he looked so very weak.
'Guess they've broken us both.' She thought.
Who had once been a monster to her now looked so very defenseless and sad Nesta felt compelled to be kind. Maybe being here wouldn't be so bad, at least Tamlin wouldn't bother her about her drinking if the empty wine bottles were any indication.
She didn't know why, but Nesta decided to plant a soft kiss on the beasts forhead, and wait for him to wake. Nesta didn't have to wait long.
Tamlin turned from beast to fae form in a flash, and when his emerald eyes fell on her their bond snapped.
***
A deep silence fell upon the room as he sat up and stared at Nesta who was equally surprised and stunned.
"I...Think you know what this means."
"Yes..."
"Wait! Why are you here, Lady Nesta? Is this another strange dream?"
"Afraid not. I'll explain."
She told him of her downward spiral, of her sister's betrayal and the choice she was given. It nearly made his magic spiral in a rage.
"Stay here I'd that's what you want. I swear I shall protect you." Tamlin managed to say.
"...What about the bond?"
"If you keep it, they cannot take you away. Once we're certain they won't hurt you, then you may do as you wish with it."
It hurt to say, to denounce something he'd once wanted, despite knowing of it worst sides thanks to his parents, and yet...he wanted to prioritize Nesta's free will. It was clear she needed it.
Especially when her frown turned into a slight smile. "I appreciate it."
Baby steps, in time they could be friends.
***
Lucien had come to visit. After she explained the situation the redhead not only returned to stay with his partners but he cut off all ties to Night.
"We will help you rebuild this court!"
That was all they needed to let the Band of Exiles become part of the Spring council.
The Spring Library was a marvel after it was cleaned and she took to devouring every book she could. It helped fix the court and bring back the population.
In a few months things were already looking up, and Tamlin wouldn't stop thanking her. "Lucien did most of the administrative work. Vassa is in charge of diplomacy and Jurian is training the sentries. Why are you thanking me too?"
"Because if you hadn't arrived that day. I wouldn't be here right now. Your silver flame is what kept me holding on and made me rebuild what I shouldn't have left crumble. Thank you."
His gentle hand on hers gave her pause. Despite the slow friendship they'd cultivated and the bond that kept her safe, sometimes Nesta doubted a man like him could want her if it wasn't because of the mating bond. Still, she didn't want to break it. Her safety was at stake but also...she didn't want to hurt Tamlin further.
Nesta felt a tear slide down her cheek, but it was soon wiped away as Tamlin kissed her forehead. "You don't have to say anything. If I have to wait forever I shall. You're worth waiting for."
Worth. She hadn't heard that from anyone.
"There's a lot I still must deal with, but when I do. I'm certain you'll be who I want to spend my time with."
"I'm honored to hear that."
***
Tamlin often thought that beyond any person music would remain his ultimate love. Perhaps that would've been right, as he played his fiddle before the Calanmai celebrations and everyone danced with joy.
Then she stepped into the scene wearing the long sleeved silver dress he'd gotten for her and the glass shoes he'd seen her eyeing at the boutique.
Nesta was a delightful dancer. He knew she loved music as much as he did when she organized all his sheets and instruments with great care, probably more than the books.
Nesta danced beautifully for him, and he didn't remember the last time he'd played that well. By the time the song ended and she stopped dancing, Tamlin had picked her up in his arms and they shared a kiss.
"I love you." Nesta said, and he couldn't help but cry.
"I love you too."
No other Calanmai had left him as breathless and full of joy
***
Eventually they came for her a little over week after their bond was sealed and their frenzy over.
Nesta nearly barbecued the entire inner circle when they tried to get close to Tamlin. He'd wrapped them in thorned vines.
"We are mated. We are happy. We won't bend to you if you're trying to get the crown. Leave!" He said.
Cassian glared at her and Nesta regarded him with indifference, she had the man of her dreams right by her side and wore a crown of roses rather than chains of stars. The only ones she'd mourn for were her sisters, but she was free and she wouldn't apologize for it. Let the. Make their choice for themselves.
And they did. Because when shadows took her to the House of Wind and she was locked in its tower, Nesta could hear a battle far away in the Velaris palace. By now she'd realized Morrigan was the traitor and that Feyre had joined her, but she couldn't wait for them to rescue her. She had to get out herself.
Rhysand had brought her back to fight for Night's side. She wouldn't and so he locked her up. But he forgot she had power and she had read enough to figure out the end of the tale.
Nesta used her power to create thin threads of silver. They grew from her hair and she made sure to tie them onto the balcony rails. It wasn't enough to reach the ground safely, but she wouldn't need to. She saw a figure of green and was aware he High Lord came to save her.
With rope of hair in hand she jumped from the balcony of the tower and safely mounted Tamlin, who was now a dragon.
"My silver flower"
"My fiddler lord."
They flew away as the Obsidian castle in the distance was swallowed up a black hole in the sky. Both of them were worried until the event passed and the castle was nothing but rubble left away.
After landing they spotted Lucien in the distance with the healers. She saw Feyre and Mor with them, out cold but alive.
Tamlin and Nesta both breathed a sigh of relief. Then they looked at eachother. Nesta smiled at the sight of her mate, her beloved and the man who'd come to her rescue.
Tamlin pulled her close, holding his savior, his queen and his beloved.
Nesta kissed him, using words he'd once said to someone else yet were never returned until now. "I love you, thorns & all."
"And love you, my queen Nesta Acheron."
Two birds flew over them as they shared a kiss, into their happily ever after.
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Hope (Part 1)
Anger can be overwhelming and easy to hold on to. Although repairing a broken heart can be difficult unless you willing to find all the pieces. The aftermath of Felix x MC argument and make up.
Felix Iskander Escellun
Felix feels defeated for a whole month. That's right. They two took a break for a whole month without sharing a word or syllable to each other.
They'd pass him by without a glance. Not a sneer or rolling their eyes at his voice. Just plain silence.
What a hellish punishment.
MC on the other hand was miserable. Yes, they are to take fault for walking away without saying what they wanted to say but at this point what else could they say.
Their mind was ablaze with guilt, sorrow, and shame.
This was torture. An infinite purgatory of constant denial.
(Poor Anisa, Sage, Florian, Scylla, Saaros, and Tulsi. Not a clue on how to help their friends. Afraid to be caught in the middle. Silent in the bar or in the office. Can't even get a freakin cup since Felix and MC are in the kitchen while awkwardly trying not to bump shoulders or make eye contact. But they do end up holding eye contact and tensions are high that it leaves them both to walk away with no snack and just tears.)
At the end of the day Scylla gets sick of it that she drags Felix out into the garden lecturing his buffoonery.
'What's the matter?!' "Nothing." She crosses her tattooed arms. 'Could've fooled florian or anisa...not me.' "Please, like you care about my relationship. Every chance you get you flirt with them in front of me. Don't tell me you care. Now! Of all times!"
She hums.
'You.' "What?" She sighs. 'You, ya' dimwit. All they see is you. Not me. No other person like you. Because Mc is infatuated by you.'
He can't help but blush at that declaration. "It's not your business in the first place. You have no right...." At laugh escapes her, 'And you do...I mean what are you two doing fe. Cause I spent the last months trying to see if they where good enough for you...even with as much chaos and bullshit they went through to save you and stay by your side. It's understandable that they went into a spiral.'
He fixes his gaze past her with a pout. She hugs him without a second thought as well as his small grunt he lets out by surprise. He still doesn't push her away. "What am I suppose to do?" 'I do not know. But so help me Fe, if you let them go without a word or fight then you did it to yourself."
Late at night felix tosses in his covers with a huff and little to no plan in how to walk up to mc. Until the sunrise in which he makes haste to MC's bedroom with no regard for his sleep wear or the servants scurrying to aid him in his sudden morning walk. He arrives and knocks biting his lip.
His nerves are fully awake now. At the point when mc opens the door.
Their shocked to see their surprise guest or boyfriend in his night wear. Till he asks to come in with a nervous gaze. They nod and make room for him. 'Did you need something.' He pinches his nose. "Don't....do it do that MC." They cross their arms. " Do what? 'You know...No I-I absolutely did not want to come here to fight with you again. I came here to see if you wanted to discuss what we left unsaid."
Mc sits on the bed to rub their eyes. They heave a heavy sigh. 'Fine.'
"You walked away." 'I walked away.' "I can't speak for the both of us." 'I never once asked you too.'
He perks up, "I wanted to talk and you pushed me away. You are messy, delightful, charming, and marvelous in your own way. Yet, this...is not healthy. So, please tell me what's wrong.I don't want you to worry yourself to death."
'I worry! No matter the situation I can't help but worry!'
'You dead in my arms. Rime yelling at escell. You giving up and telling me to walk away.'
Tears start to spill with mc hugging their knees. Felix starts to rub their shoulders. "You've done enough. You are enough."
'I'm sorry I put you through hell.' "If you can fight a god off, simply a meltdown I can handle, my love."
Felix and MC snort and start to rant about their past few days. No one can say what else was said but nothings changed. Felix and MC are messy and imperfect in their own way.
Except, theirs always room for improvement.
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𓅨 As Dawn Breaks: Chapter Twenty-Four
As Dawn Breaks: Mother Night and Father Time, after having sired seven Endless to personify life in the known universe, create Earth and human life begins. One last Endless is created: Dawn, the personification of illumination and hope, the beginning of a new day and a chance for happiness and improvement. A love will span thousands of millennia, breaking with every sunrise and renewing hope come sunset. Yet, even the personification of hope can lose the very notion of her existence from the sting of a broken heart.
Warnings: Horny Idiots, Explicit Language, Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No).
To Note: Dream/Morpheus x Endless!FemaleReader(Dawn), This Involves Themes That Are Not For Everyone.
Word Count: ~2.3k
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Your feet slid across smooth marble as you strode your way toward the throne room. It seemed that the very marble, the very palace, was humming with glee at having you walk its walls once more. You had to admit to yourself that it felt good to feel the warm stone underfoot and walk the familiar walls, The Dreaming was a second home to you. Crossing a hallway full of beautifully carved statues, you encountered Mervyn coming out of the archway that led to the throne room. The pumpkin-headed janitor grunted at you in greeting.
“Good, you’re here, Lord Morpheus is grumpy and in a mood, fix it.” You raised an eyebrow as the janitor lumbered past you. “Lord knows I’m giving that room a wide birth…” His last words were grumbled, but you heard them and your cheeks once again warmed. By the Gods, did everyone expect you to placate Morpheus by having sex with him? Well, it would probably work… You shook your head and cleared your thoughts, certainly Morpheus wouldn’t be that hungry for you, had he not feasted upon your flesh for four days and four nights? Surely he had his fill for the time being…
Sweeping into the throne room, you saw that Morpheus was sitting upon his throne, deep in thought but as indicated, pouting and sulking at the same time. You walked up to winding stairs and by the time you reached the base, Morpheus had perked up from his pout and his eyes were now settled on your incoming body. A knowing smile appeared on your lips as you slowly moved up the staircase, Morpheus eyes watched every little movement your body made. From the brief moment of revealed knee as the fabric of your dress shifted to the way your hips swayed, all his brooding and grumpiness disappeared instantly. Padding up to your previously morose and pouting lover, you bent forward and took his face in hand to press a kiss to his lips.
“You appear to be pouting, my love,” You gently said as Morpheus gazed at you in adoration. Then his eyebrow lifted.
“Pouting?” He repeated, his arms wrapping around your back. Soon, you found yourself tugging into his lap with your knees resting on either side of him. You didn’t mind, you got to be closer and marvel at his beauty up close. Your fingers tiptoed across his cheekbone in deep appreciation.
“I said what I said, my Dream,” You responded, a twinkle of mischief sparkling within your eyes. Morpheus’s hands pressed into your back, further pushing your chest against his. You sighed and leaned your forehead against his. “Did you miss me?”
“I start missing you the moment you depart from my side, my Hope.” Morpheus drew out, his nose nuzzling against yours. He was not ashamed to admit that the moment you left, he started yearning for the moment you would return. Morpheus shifted so he could press his face into your neck, you slipped a hand into his hair and ran your fingers through the strands.
“And I you,” you hummed, leaning your cheek against his head.
“You took your time coming to me,” He prompted, taking a deep breath and allowing the scent of the bath oils your handmaids used to fill his being. While it did make him lose his inhibition, he would gladly do so if it meant having you within his arms, to have your essence winding with his. You chuckled lightly and looked down into messy black hair as Morpheus started kissing your neck.
“My apologies,” You whispered, drawing your hand from his jaw to his neck. “How shall I make it up to you?” Your Endless lover responded with a nip to your neck that caused a small squeak to depart your lips. Heat bloomed along your neck and cheeks. Your fingers grasped midnight strands and you pulled the offending mouth from your skin. “Morpheus,” You warned him. “We are in your thr—“ Morpheus grasped the back of your neck and pulled, revealing the smooth and untouched expanse of your throat. Then he had the cheek to run his lips along your vein of essence, causing little explosive sparks to erupt along your flesh. Your nails dug into his jacket and hair and you let out a low moan.
“You sound so exquisite,” Morpheus rumbled against your neck, his intentions well and clear to you. His fingers dragged down your back, grasping the draping fabric of your chiton and tugging it down your back. You felt your left shoulder pin give and the fabric covering the left side of your chest slipped down. Letting out a gasp, you lurched forwards to press your body against Morpheus’s chest as your hand left his star-filled jacket to rescue the unhinged pin.
“Morpheus!” You hissed out, your cheeks now feeling on fire. “You cannot undress me in your throne room! Anyone could walk—” His hand slipped around to your jaw and his thumb brushed against your lips while Morpheus returned his gaze to yours.
“I believe they know to keep their distance,” Morpheus purred while stealing several kisses in between his words. You moaned softly as your lower lip was tugged. Then a devious look sparkled within his silver-blue eyes. “And if they stray too close, they will find themselves graced with your beautiful sounds of ecstasy as I once again grovel to you for my egregious folly.” Surely you would melt away to nothing with how hot you now felt. If not that, you would wilt into an embarrassed mess. But at the same time, oh how you wanted him. It was unusual to see your lover in anything but a surly mood, and the mischievous twinkle that glimmered in his extraordinary eyes made you want him terribly.
Morpheus could see you thinking, your thoughts clearly expressed on your lovely face and he couldn’t help but run his fingers from your lips to stroke your jaw. You sighed, your resolve crumbling and abandoning your unhinged pin, you took his face in hand and pressed your lips against his. Your lips fit perfectly against his, and it was only moments later that Morpheus was pressing opened-mouthed kisses against your lips. He urged your lips to part and the taste of dreams and stardust exploded on your tongue. You softly moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands with every swipe of tongue and nip of teeth.
Allowing his hand to sweep across your back and burrow beneath the silken fabric of your dress, Morpheus silently marveled at the perfection of your body. It mattered not that he had aquatinted himself with your physical manifestation before, your beauty would always take his breath away. It wasn’t enough to taste your lips, to feel their softness pressed against his own. He needed to feel you, and feel you now. His fingers abandoned their exploration and caresses to dig into the bunched fabric at your thighs.
You gasped as material all too easily tore beneath his fingers and that only allowed your voracious Dream to kiss you deeper. He swept into your mouth, tongue laving against yours with an insatiable appetite. You didn’t mind, you were just as hungry. Morpheus’s hands wrapped around your thighs and your pelvis was harshly jerked against his. You couldn’t help the proceeding whimper as a bolt of searing fire blazed within your body. Oh Gods you were already soaked. Your shoulders hunched as embarrassment crept in. Breaking your tongue-tying kiss, Morpheus pressed his lips against your warm cheek.
“Surely you are not ashamed by how your body reacts to me, my Hope,” He rasped, his lips trailing across your jaw and brushing against your ear. You shivered within his arms, your thighs quivering.
“Morpheus,” You breathlessly called, trembling and torn between ceasing your promiscuous activities and indulging in your bodily and celestial needs. Morpheus pushed his thumb against the soft inner flesh of your thigh, massaging your muscles and only making the ache between your legs worse.
“Please, my Hope, I wish to continually atone for my errors and to lavish the comfort and homeliness your body graciously adorns me,” Morpheus whispered in your ear, not pushing forwards until you had made your decision apparent. He nuzzled his face further into your tender neck, knowing that even if you didn’t give in to his wishes, Morpheus would still feel the full force of your love. But given the state you were now in, no thanks to Morpheus, you had a fire that needed to be put out. That wouldn’t happen unless you had him. You dragged his lips back close to yours, feeling the heat they gave off and staring into hypnotizing blue eyes. Blazing ardor roared within the depths of his eyes, trapping you in their fathomless abyss that promised nothing but endless bliss and togetherness.
“Make love to me, my Dream,” You softly groaned into his mouth, feeling him devour your honeyed sounds like they were the nectar of the gods. Morpheus nipped at your lips once more, sucking on your lower lip and getting high on your taste. His hands pulled you up off his lap by your thighs, and while your attention was wrapped up in the lips currently ravaging yours, Morpheus freed himself from the confined of his jeans and slipped his cock into your hot and waiting body. You shuddered and trilled within his arms, allowing the strap of your chiton to fall and reveal half of your beautiful chest. Morpheus zeroed in on your breast as you sank on his cock, your walls clenching around him while your head was thrown back.
Fresh moans slipped from your lips, your walls stretching and straining to accommodate Morpheus’s cock, and oh how it felt glorious. Your eyes fluttered and looking back down at your lover, you saw his eyes near black with lust and desire. When he was fully seated within your body, you had a brief moment to think about the fact that your lover currently had his cock in your cunt, in his throne room. Morpheus quickly took those thoughts away when he leaned forwards and sealed his mouth over your bared nipple, swiping his tongue around the bud and making hungry noises at the heavenly softness of your body. Then you started riding him and you both let out groans that made the entire Dreaming shiver.
Your fingers pulled Morpheus’s lips away from your breasts and you stared into the starlit eyes of your lover. The next time you sank back down on his cock, he slipped a hand behind your head and dragged your lips back to his. Your moan was garbled as he slipped his tongue between your lips and captured your mouth. You clung tight to his hair, shivering each and every time his cock glided over the spot within your body that set off explosions. Again and again, he hit that spot. Surely intentional because you looked gorgeous every time your back arched and you gasped on his tongue.
A deep rumble emerged in Morpheus’s chest when your walls fluttered and clamped down on his cock, squeezing him in the most torturously delicious way. Even with his endless self-control, he was not going to last much longer with the way you were squeezing him.
“My Hope,” Morpheus growled against your mouth. You naughtily tugged on his lip with your teeth and scraped his scalp with your nails. “Surely you do not wish to hurry your pleasure.” Your lips twitched in delight at his low words and you slipped your fingers across his jaw and caressed his neck.
“I am but giving in to my deepest desires, my love,” You whispered in response, clenching your walls hard around his cock the next time you sank on him. “You’ll let me won’t you? Keep your promise?” Morpheus’s hands dug into your hips, one gripping your bare skin beneath your uncovered breast. He could feel the way your essence hummed beneath your ribcage, strong and full of vitality. There was no way he’d ever refuse you, never again. You grinned, knowing that he’d let you do anything. Kissing your way from his mouth to his jaw, and then neck, you ran your lips over his ear as a smirk stretched across them. “Come now, beloved,” You goaded. “I’m here for the next few days, my love, indulge in me, take what you wish for I am yours.” If anyone's teasing and taunting could get to Dream of the Endless, it was yours.
Morpheus bucked his hips against your cunt, sending his cock so deep into your cunt that you nearly spasmed with sensation. Your thighs quivered against his, spreading the wetness that dripped from your cunt along his skin. The sweet sounds that now fell from your lips fueled him and raising a hand to your hair, Morpheus sank his fingers in and dragged your head back. He bit into the flesh of your throat while never ceasing his harsh bucking. You cried out and your cunt pulsated around his cock, only moments from shattering into an explosion of ecstasy. Pleasure was rolling through your body like a tidal wave and you all too happily let it sweep you away.
Your entire body tensed within Morpheus’s arms as you came around him, full body trembling and quickly going limp against him. He was not far behind you, the explosive squeeze of your cunt around his cock was far too much to bear, and happily let his seed fill your body once again. You shivered at the electric warmth filling you and moaned lowly, your face dropping to the crook of Morpheus’s neck. You were washed with delicious pleasure and satisfaction and within your eternal lover's arms of all places. While you came down from your high, your mind drifted to how beautiful Morpheus would look on his throne as you worshipped his cock…
Morpheus groaned, getting little glimpses at your inner thoughts. His cock twitched within your body.
“You are going to be the end of me, my Hope,” He purred, stroking your back and lavishing your supple skin. Your lips curved into a smirk against his neck.
“A very pleasurable end it shall be then, my Dream,” You whispered with a giggle.
Date Published: 4/7/23
Last Edit: 4/7/23
Previous | Masterlist | Next
#morpheus x reader#morpheus#lord morpheus#sandman x reader#the sandman x reader#dream of the endless x reader#dream x reader#dream the endless#dream of the endless#the sandman netflix#the sandman#dream the endless x reader
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Out of Time Chapter One Hundred and Thirty -six
AO3
The quiet told him that he was back where he started. Raising carefully, his legs unsteady under him, he looks around. No cars, except those turning to rust. Had he failed? No! He knew the bloke died. Oh, was his plan already started, someone else took over. He didn’t go back far enough!
He turns, hurrying back towards the stone, determined to fix it. The Stones are silent before him. Bloody hell! Now what?
All he can think to do is try to return to his people. Come what may, together they will face whatever the future brings. He doesn’t consider that the past might be altered by what he did.
Thanks be to God, the yacht is still where he left it. He breathes out a sigh of relief. Walking up to it, he is preparing a speech of apology. Who runs out to greet him, takes him by surprise.
“Daddy!” He stares, as though he is seeing a ghost. Alex! Alex on two legs! The child grabs his legs. “Daddy back!”
Laughing and crying, he lifts him up. “Aye son, I am.”
What other changes has his trip wrought?
“Murtagh!” His Godson stares at him before hurrying over to wrap him and Alex in a hug, “You survived it, how?”
“I can’t say Jamie as I don’t know.” He tells him all as they walk farther aboard. “Something obviously changed. My Alex has two legs.”
“Aye, there was no shooting that took his. Oh, and no Frank! Juliaellen is mine, fully!” Murtagh beams.
“How wonderful! Naomi?”
“Aye, you still have her, Danny and Jenny have Daniel. Claire still carries our second…” A little girl with dark hair runs up to them. She looks up at Murtagh, shyly.
“Who is this?”
“Faith! Without Frank, she never…”
It sends Murtagh over the edge. He bursts into tears, and loses strength in his legs. Providence provided a deck chair nearby that Jamie lowers him into. Alex heads over to Faith and takes her hand.
“No matter what else happens, it was worth it as she lived. Faith lives!”
They all gather around him and tell all they know.
“The mist still came. I wasn’t aware enough to stop it.” Danny explains. “It wasn’t until later, as before, that I knew.”
“But he died, that Bonnet bastard?”
“Oh yes. Your plan worked. We were all horrified at his murder, as I perceived it, at the time. Unfortunately, his second, took over his plans, doubling down on them.”
“Yes, he was determined to do it, in honor,” Asha pulls a face, “of his good friend, Steven. He does but, something changed, the horror reached us sooner.”
“Lionel Brown was his name.”
“Was?” Murtagh asks. He sits among them, cuddling his children. Mary sits beside him, marveling at his return.
“Yes, he was killed by his own people. Must came to realize the evil done. There are still a few holdouts, a few folks that still believe this was the right way but, we outnumber them.”
“You did it, Murtagh. This was to big to completely change but, a lot of the evil done, was undone.” Jenny declares.
“We are free.” Simon adds. “The bad guys are in hiding from us. The only reason we stayed on board is the hope that you may return.”
“We can go anywhere we want.” Mary places her hand on his arm, “Thank you.”
It is echoed by everyone on board. All accept two. Charlie and William, sit side by side, looking miserable. Murtagh notices.
“Nothing has changed with you, then?”
“No. I am still pregnant. William remains the father.”
He stands, handing Naomi to Mary. Alex toddles beside him as he walks over to them.
“The big thing I couldn’t change. I believe God gave us a second chance, allowed my actions to correct some things. What He still allows is what needs to continue happening.”
“I don’t believe in God.” She defiantly says.
He chuckles. “He still believes in you. Isn’t Faith being here, Alex regaining his leg, humanity regaining it’s sanity, enough to show you He exists? If that isn’t, His care of you, should be.”
“Care!” she shrieks and Alex covers his ears. “How is this, care?”
“Us. He gave you a family. A large group of people that care for you and your child. We can go anywhere now,” He addresses the others as well, “but may I suggest staying together. This is a family, after all. We need to continue supporting each other.”
“Aye, I agree. I even know where we can go, home to Lallybroch. The land is big enough to support everyone. We can rebuild.”
Jenny nods, agreeing with her brother. “It is perfect. Plenty of room for the children to run, to continue to expand.”
“Shall we take a vote?” Claire asks.
They unanimously agree. Lallybroch it is.
#my writing#outlander fanfic#out of time#chapter one hundred and thirty six#jamie and claire#cannon divergence#outlander fandom#modern au
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Title: Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Mo Dao Zu Shi) Vol. 4 Author: Mo Xiang Tong Xiu Genre/s: danmei, xianxia, historical, fantasy, horror, queer romance, romance Content/Trigger Warnings: death, violence, war-related extermination/genocide, rape, body horror, medical procedures conducted without anesthetic Summary (from publisher website): History stands poised to repeat itself as Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are besieged by walking corpses atop the Burial Mounds. It is here fate offers them a second chance to protect their loved ones and unmask the true instigator of this grisly onslaught. As shocking revelations shake the cultivation world to its very core, the unlikely couple becomes preoccupied with other matters–like an evening of drunken impulse that may push their budding relationship into bold new territory. Buy Here: https://sevenseasentertainment.com/books/grandmaster-of-demonic-cultivation-mo-dao-zu-shi-novel-vol-4/ Spoiler-Free Review: How many ways are there to break a heart? This volume seems completely intent on finding that out because OH BOY DOES IT TRY! I can’t talk about what specifically happens, because those would be spoilers of IMMENSE proportions, but suffice to say that we find out the truth behind why Wei Wuxian became Enemy Number One in the cultivation world: as in, the specific inciting event, and not just the general disdain that everyone has for his chosen cultivation path that’s been there since Volume 1. And let me tell you, learning about what he did, but more importantly WHY he did it, is just a shot to the heart on several levels. See, here’s the thing: it’s clear that Wei Wuxian has a savior complex. Part of that is due to the circumstances of how he grew up (which are immensely tragic), but also because he really just has a very clear sense of what’s right and what’s wrong, and has absolutely ZERO qualms about doing what he thinks is right - even if it means he gets himself hurt in the process, and crucially, without thinking about what others might think or do or say about what his chosen course of action. He sees wrongdoing, he goes and fixes it how he thinks it ought to be fixed. Which would be GREAT, if he ever stopped to think about the consequences to himself and more importantly to the people he cares about. And honestly, I appreciate that this is something this story takes the time to really delve into: how doing the right thing no matter what can lead to damaging consequences, not just for oneself, but for the people surrounding oneself. So often in Western media we see characters do heroic things, and they’re always forgiven because they “did the right thing”: think comic book superheroes whose fights level entire city blocks, destroying homes and communities and livelihoods along the way, and yet are still lauded for their actions. (And yes, I KNOW there’s been pushback against this in other media, but the fact remains that your average Marvel movie is still going to show all that property destruction and it’s going to be handwaved away as being “okay” because the Avengers protected New York from the latest threat and Stark Industries can rebuild everything anyway.) But this series shows that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and Wei Wuxian learns that the very, VERY hard way. While he’s willing to take on all the consequences his choices might bring (he’s quite emphatic about this across the volumes), he never stops to think about how this is practically impossible. His choices always impact others, whether that’s his adopted siblings or Lan Wangji or the entire cultivation world. While Wei Wuxian is undoubtedly a hero, and his actions have always sprung from very good reasons, he has destroyed lives along the way, because he never once stopped to think if there was any way he could minimize and mitigate the potential harm his actions might cause. On the other hand, there’s something really ADMIRABLE about the way Wei Wuxian deals with his mistakes - in that he admits to them, and deals with them as best as he can. He knows he’s made a lot of terrible choices, but he does his best to fix what he’s done wrong, often sacrificing himself in order to set things right, which is driven home in a very specific scene in this volume that absolutely GUTTED me when I read it. His morals are also extremely admirable: he KNOWS when he’s right and isn’t afraid to speak truth to power, even if it gets him in trouble. The cultivation world thinks of him as this horrible man, but in many ways he’s FAR more noble and upright than a great many cultivators. Given all of this, the romance between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji definitely took a backseat during this volume and the previous one, though things did pick up quite a bit by the end of this one. There’s still plenty that needs to be resolved by the fifth volume in terms of the plot’s central mystery, but I think their romance is going to be a bit more front-and-center now, given what happened. May is still a ways away, so there’s going to be a wait for that next volume. I’m definitely going to have to get my mitts on it as soon as it comes out; I really want to know how this all ends. Thoughts (cut for spoilers):
- THE REVEAL OF THE CORE TRANSFER OPERATION WAS SOUL-DESTROYING! THE FACT THAT WEI WUXIAN GAVE UP ON THE SOURCE OF HIS CULTIVATION POWER JUST SO JIANG CHENG WOULD BE ABLE TO KEEP ON GOING IS JUST! SO!! TRAGIC!!! AND LOOK AT HOW JIANG CHENG TREATED HIM UP UNTIL THAT REVEAL!!! GODS I WANT THAT NEXT VOLUME NOW SO I CAN SEE HOW THEY RESOLVE THIS. - Speaking of resolutions: WEI WUXIAN AND LAN WANGJI “SLEEPING” WITH EACH OTHER FINALLY IS MAKING SCREAM! THEY’RE SO BAD AT COMMUNICATING WITH EACH OTHER THEY REALLY, REALLY NEED TO SIT DOWN AND TALK! AND NOT WHILE LWJ IS DRUNK!!
#book review#book reviews#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#mo dao zu shi#mo xiang tong xiu#mdsz#mxtx#danmei#xianxia#historical#fantasy#mystery#horror#queer romance#romance#books
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Resurgence: We'll play the position cont
"I need you two either just beneath the surface or one with your creatures... I don't think.." she said before being caught off guard by two large animals coming towards them, the closer they got the more definition it gave, wolves. One was jet black with a demeanor menacing more than anything ready to cut you at a second's notice. The other one white stunning posture with a demeanor of tempt her and she will do the same as her pair. The black wolf's eyes were deep and menacing dark blue, while the other ones eyes were bright blue with gold almost etching a message in it.
"Dude! The fuck!?" said Quinn. "As loner type as I can be, you thought I was going to go ahead and do this without at least howling out to something will like us? Illogical Quinn." Nyx answered with a smile. As they stood before them sniffing the three and politely getting them, Nyx quick became one with Rogue standing beside them. "You really found Baroness?" She asked with a smile.
"You don't understand or you forget, your wolf's love and capability for a person truthfully comes in her strength means protection. The moment she cared for her is the moment she always kept a good eye for her never bother her but be there for her." Quinn answered before becoming one with Melinoe, gently sitting on Rogue's head. "All the shit I've been through, this is really cool I need this. You guys must take up a football field and a half at this point each." She said in astonishment.
She marveled at the site for a few moments longer, just before the sound of a door crashing open broke her focus. "Look at that guys... 6 minutes." The queen whispered. The woman crashing through the door stopped after, doing her best to compose herself put herself back together as if she had come out of a demented night terror. "Well well well if isn't my Boop." She said being sure to be heard. Taking accountability of her own body stopped with the voice and just stared in pure disbelief.
"I won't hold you, especially cuz after all I shouldn't exactly matter to you or a few of you within blood... I gave you a chance to fix it, I gave you the closest to me year after year.. over ten years to fix it. You didn't and you didn't let me." She conveyed as the wolves began to growl scaring th he lady still. "You never go down the same river twice, so in an opportunity lost is an opportunity lost forever." She added with sorrow in her expression. "How... how did you get here and how are you doing this?" The woman asked shaking.
"Oh my Boop... There's an understanding of some of the things that you have gone through that you've never asked as if I'm dumb and I didn't have to. As I told my mother, defective. I'll leave you to what you got and be over there defective I'll see you whenever." The queen answered walking away still disgusted with the woman before her. "Wait! Sharmesha wait!" The woman yelled Just before being snarled at by baroness' wolves. The Queen quickly stopped and simply smiled at her knowing that it would be a very long time for her to sit with those words. She looked to the wolves and said just before walking back into to the door "Thank you.. both of you... be there for my Baroness"
The two trotted off as Melinoe and Quinn as one flew behind the queen into the door, with Rogue and Nyx as one staring at the woman still in disbelief. They stared blistering green eyes at the woman making sure she knew the damage that she held, after all she was the heart. She burst into flames knowing that they could handle the flames, spooking the daylights out of the woman then going through the door to a different place entirely.
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late night punishments
this is my first smut so KJJSHDKFJ please send some feedback, i wanna know the areas in the fic that are good and the ones where it needs to be fixed a lil. enjoy :>
here's my masterlist
summary: gojo finds out you disobeyed his orders, causing him to give you a piece of his mind
warnings/tags: degradation, choking, spit swallowing (?), breeding, overstim, face slapping, gojo being a lil mean to y/n, smut so 18+ please
nsfw under the cut
You cried. You can’t help it. You’ve been on your back, fists crumpling the sheets in an attempt to grab something, and legs spread wide open for Gojo Satoru for who knows how long, his hand gripping your hip tightly that you were sure it would bruise, and the other one on squeezing your left breast.
You feel your tears stream down, mixing with the sweat and the saliva on your face. You were overwhelmed by the feeling of being too full, too good, too much, and above you, Satoru grins.
Your tears don’t deter him, instead, it encourages him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, 7-inch dick snug inside your cum filled pussy, pushing in and out all over and over again. You can hear yourself from the way your juices react to his cock. If anything his actions make you cry out more.
“Aw,” he coos, never stopping his thrusts, in fact snapping even harder, “why are you crying? What happened to all your bravado?”
His voice sounded so gentle, so caring, and soft. It almost fooled your almost mindless state, but you knew him well enough that it’s just a facade. He doesn’t care if he hurts you, as seen by the love bruises littered all over your neck that trail down to your thighs. You don't mind it though. You were drunk on him.
“C’mon, can you come for me?” Gojo asked, caressing your face. You merely sob out in response because you can’t, you’ve already come more times than you even cared to count, you’re spent and you’re tired. Satoru has also cum twice, and it marvels you how his dick was still that hard, how he’s still going. “I- I can’t- Satoru please-“
“Whaaaat?” He asked, slowing down his thrusts to a full stop. He looks back at you with half of his dick still inside you, a mixture of your cum and his escape to the sheets. For a moment your body sags in rest. “You can’t?”
“N-no…!” You cry out. “I can’t anymore, please.”
Satoru looked at you with his head tilted, as if contemplating your plea. Unfortunately, you missed the way his eyes glinted when he reached to pull out your vibrator. You were still comprehending how he got your toy and how he knew when Satoru thrust back inside you. You groaned, reliving the feeling of being full coming back, your pussy clamping at the sudden intrusion.
Satoru’s eyes rolled back to his head. “How are you still so tight?” He chuckles, flipping the switch of the vibrator. “I’ve been fucking you for hours and yet your fucking pussy still wants more. I married such a whore.” He whispers to no one, flicking your swollen clit with his finger.
He presses the vibrator’s head on to where your clit was, and you let out a scream so loud you’d reckon you would have woken half of the Gojo estate if there were any people. The benefits of being the only two Gojos were that Satoru can make you scream as loud as you can and no one would hear. It was too much, too good.
“You think I wouldn’t notice?” he hissed, slowing down, but thrusting even deeper. “How you used this when I’m away? I could smell you on this toy, whore.” Satoru pressed the vibrator harder against you. You hear a switch and you feel the vibrator go faster, making you cry out, tears streaming down your face mixing with the saliva leaking off your mouth.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” You gulp, trying to form coherent words. You were in a system overload, overwhelmed with how Satoru has been pounding in and out of you for hours, and now with the sudden intrusion of your beloved vibrator.
You really didn’t mean to. Satoru had made it clear that you were not to touch yourself while he’s away and in turn, he wouldn’t touch himself on his mission trip. Think about the desperate, mind-blowing sex we’ll do when I get back! He said cheerfully after seeing your disapproving stare. And while that was a good argument to make you last two weeks, you found yourself frustrated and angry and missing your husband just a little bit too much. “I-I just missed you, Satoru. I was n-never satisfied, it could never compare to you…!”
Above you, your husband's face morphed into an expression of displeasure. His piercing gaze stared at you disgustingly, as if you said something to insult him. “Oh? You missed me?” he asked with a high-pitched mocking tone. “Shut the fuck up, bitch.”
You felt a harsh slap on your face before his hand crawled on your neck and Satoru started to squeeze. The sensation made you tighten up with your eyes rolling at the back of your head. His pace was relentless still, never giving you a break. It wasn’t until you started seeing dark spots did Satoru let go of your neck.
You feel him toss the vibrator somewhere on the bed, and you could feel yourself flinching from its effect on you. Satoru’s hands found your face as he went deep inside you in a mating press.
“O-oh-“ you groan, enjoying the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix.
“Open.” He commanded. His hands squeezed your cheeks tightly, and with little to no resistance, you opened your mouth as wide as you can with your tongue sticking out. The sight of you made Satoru chuckle. You looked so helpless, so lost in the bliss of pleasure that you’ve let go of your composure. “Swallow.”
Blue eyes watched you eye the string of saliva that came out of his mouth that you happily caught on your tongue. His spit felt warm and different in your mouth, but the idea of him coating your insides that his cock could not reach sparked a flame in you. You happily swallowed him.
“I know we agreed on having no children,” Gojo started, keeping you in a mating press, thrusting inside you over and over again. “But I’m really tempted to make you a mommy, Y/n-chan.” He threatens, pushing his cock deeper inside you. “Tsumiki wouldn’t mind a little sibling and Megumi will be glad he isn’t the youngest anymore, yeah?”
Your eyes roll back to the back of your head, lost in the pleasure Satoru generously gives you. “P-please, faster- faster…!”
“Hey,” Satoru says before slapping your face harshly. His hand goes back to your face to grip your chin, forcing you to stare at his eyes again. “I asked you a question, Y/N. Don’t you want to be a mommy?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he lets you go and flips you on your stomach. You barely register the bed before a hand grabs a fistful of your hair, lifting you on your knees.
“Please, please be a mommy for me,” he whispers in your ear. He lets go of your hair and uses an arm to hug your shoulders closer to him. “Look over there, Y/N-chan.”
He guides you to look at the long mirror in front of you that you usually use to check your outfits before leaving. Now a reflection of your naked body stares back at you with Satoru behind. You see everything- from the bruises he left along your neck and thighs to how you desperately push your ass into him, a silent plea for his cock. Your pussy is dripping, so much so that the majority of your inner thighs are coated with lines of Satoru’s falling cum from earlier. If you spread your knees wide enough, you can spot more liquid falling directly out of your pussy to the bed.
You watch as his free hand opens and presses your stomach. “This stomach is going be full of my cum, and eventually, my baby.” He whispers in your ear. “I know I’ve already filled this tummy twice, but I’m gonna do it one more time. Just in case.”
“Wait, Satoru-“ You feel him aligning his cock back into your pussy- and then he thrusts, faster than he has before. You scream, both of your hands clinging to the arm around your shoulder for support. Satoru keeps you in place firm enough for you to watch yourself be fucked by him in the mirror. You see your tits bounce upon each thrust, and his hand pressing even stronger on your stomach. You look absolutely pathetic in the mirror, head barely supporting itself with your hair in a mess. There was a familiar feeling stirring in your stomach, an early warning that you’re about to come again, something you didn’t even know was possible up until this point.
“Ohoho,” Satoru giggles. He presses his nose to your ear as he whispers, his hot breath hot against your skin. “You think I can’t feel you squeeze my dick every time you hear me say that I’ll get you pregnant? “
Lost in the pleasure and in chasing your high, you involuntarily squeeze him again, earning another laugh from Satoru. “I’ll do it, Y/N,” he vows and you find yourself meeting each thrust he gives you. “I’ll get you pregnant, wifey.”
“I’m close-“ you gasp, desperately grinding yourself against him.
“Yeah? You are?” He asks and you feel the hand on your stomach crawl to your inner thighs before furiously rubbing your clit. “Cum then. Cum.”
You scream at the sudden overstimulation. Then finally you’re in your high, eyes seeing stars while milking Satoru’s cock so good. He stops rutting in you, lost through how good you feel around him squeezing again and again like he hasn’t fucked you for hours. You feel yourself shake at the near end of your orgasm until your legs gave up and made you drop on the bed. The bed thuds as Satoru falls behind you.
After a few moments, you breathe out a puff of hot air while staring at the ceiling. “That was great.”
Beside you, Satoru grins and it’s the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen. His hair is flat sticking to his face, and his blue eyes are so full of love it makes your heart burst. He kisses your shoulder so gently as if he didn’t fuck you to oblivion just a few seconds ago. “I know. I’m the best.”
You roll your eyes at him. God, you love him-
“Y/n-san, Gojo-san,” called a voice from your door. “I threw up.”
You whip your head so quick to the door only to find Megumi holding the doorknob. He was in his pajamas, with the stuffed dog toy Gojo bought for him on his other hand. He did look sick, your poor boy, but you really couldn’t focus on the child. You were too busy scrambling to cover yourself with the blanket.
“Oi, Megumi. Wanna have a little sibling?” asked Satoru playfully at the same time Megumi asked, “Why are you sweaty?”
“I want a little sibling!” shouted Tsumiki, rushing into your room. “I do! I do!”
Was she there the entire time? Your mind blanks at the thought of Tsumiki possibly hearing everything that you didn’t even notice Satoru smirk and you. “Told ‘ya.”
-
Megumi stared at the pavement beneath him wide-eyed and with a heavy breath. “They weren’t wrestling…”
He felt a smack at his back and flinched to his side, only to see Itadori’s concerned face. “Oi, Fushiguro. You’re not looking well.”
Megumi could only stare at him in shock. “They weren’t wrestling.”
"Huh?"
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#smut#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo x reader smut
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secrets
© credits to the author, i found it on pinterest. if you are the author, please send me a message to add your @.
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
request made by @homesicam: hi maria!! can I have prompt 15, feels mysterious and all and god bless bucky's soul (ofc) !! and thank you so much for your work !! ❤️
prompt: “Will be our secret”.
word count: 1.165 words.
warnings/tags: none. bucky feeling like a lost puppy trying to fit in.
author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
Join the tag list here.
Like every time you came back from a mission, where you needed a little calm, you waited for the small hours to hit the clock. Walking out from your dorm, you led your feet through the hallways to downstairs. Crossing the huge large living room, you stepped to the back garden of the compound. As soon as you took off your house slippers, you continued along the grass, feeling the strands of grass beneath your toes tickling you. The sky was covered by shining stars all around and for a split second your mind went blank. There wasn’t any horror, any danger, any pain. The wounds and the scratches in your face and arms went to the background, as you closed your eyes to breathe the soft breeze fluttering your hair. You felt free.
Taking a seat on the grass, you put your knees against your chest and wrapped them with both arms. Sometimes you used to think about what made you so special to be part of the Avengers. You weren’t like Natasha, a professional spy. You weren’t like Tony, a genius. And of course, you weren’t a god, nor a witch, nor a supersoldier. Not even just a soldier like Sam. Of course, they were more than those skills. You were just an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. that survived its destruction and falling. It was inevitable to feel small when you joined them in their missions. Even so, it was better if any of them heard you talk about yourself like that, or they’d end up kicking your ass to be too humble and unfair with yourself and how much you train and work hard every single day. With no excuses.
“A broken heart is all that’s left, I’m still fixing all the cracks. Lost a couple of pieces when I carried it, carried it, carried it home…” Like a defense mechanism against your own hurtful thoughts, you started to sing with your eyes put on a starry night above your head.
A few days ago, you discovered that song and got really obsessed for some reason you didn’t know. It was like picking at the scab, thinking about your parents, about how much you missed them, about what they could be thinking about you. Would they feel proud? Would they feel scared?
“I’m afraid of all I am. My mind feels like a foreign land, silence ringing inside my head. Please, carry me… carry me… carry me home”.
“You sound like my mother”.
Those words raced your heart, more because of the surprise of someone else being there than for the confession. You couldn’t help but jump up from the floor, shaking the strands of grass from your clothes. Bucky was in front of you, a couple of steps away. He had his head slightly tilted to the right, squinting with some kind of confusion running through his mind. You crossed your arms on your chest a little ashamed, rubbing your nose with a side of your hand as you tried to hold back a tear.
Then, you dawn on and your brain reproduced his words again. For you, it meant a shock. You could count with the fingers of both hands the times you had shared a couple of words, maybe a small talk in a meeting before a mission. And you were sure it was the first time you two were alone. Bucky was pretty quiet, even shy you’d dare to say. After all the shit he lived in for many years, the fear of coming back to those dark days was still chasing him. Steve told you that he used to try and speak to anyone, to be normal, to be trusted. But after what he was forced to do, no one really trusted in him. And it wasn’t like you didn’t care about his past, because you’d be lying to yourself, but you were of those kinds of persons who thought that everybody deserves a second chance. If you didn’t give them anything to believe in, how would they be believers?
“Did she…?” You intoned slowly driven by curiosity, now that Bucky seemed interested in starting a conversation either way. But you didn’t want to sound disrespectful.
“She used to sing for my sister and me”. You watched him keep his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants, coming closer to you as he noticed you weren’t afraid of him.
“My mom did it too”. You replied then, showing him a fleeting smile curving up your lips.
As soon as Bucky witnessed the sweet gesture from you and the way you were continuing the conversation, he felt relaxed. He felt welcomed from the first time he stepped into the compound. You waved a hand towards him, urging him to sit down as you went back to your seat on the grass. He joined you without hesitation, cheered up inside for making a new friend.
You lost track of time talking about everything and anything at the same time. Talking about your families, discovering he had a sister called Rebecca. Talking to you about the old good times where Steve and he were just a couple of punk wreak havoc all around Brooklyn. You couldn’t stop laughing, showing him how excited you were to know more about him and his adventures. You told him about the farm where you used to live and how you built something like a training camp to prepare yourself to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Bucky was fascinated by your determination and perseverance, comparing you to Steve when he wanted to join the army, before being Captain America.
Inevitably, you yawned when the sunset was about to happen, earning a soft nudge from the soldier. “C’mon, you should rest”.
“Yeah, I’m pretty dead… drawbacks of being only human”.
He stood up before you, helping you to get up from the ground. You walked indoors keeping silent, not knowing actually how to say goodbye. It was an awkward situation that barely lasted two seconds.
“Listen, about before… I’d appreciate it if you don’t say anyt—”.
“Sure”. Bucky interrupted you. The gesture of his face suddenly changed to a sad grimace with a feigned smile on his lips. “You don’t have to worry about”.
“Good! Uh… thank you. I bet Stark will bully me about the singing thing all the time. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes”. You couldn’t help but sigh with relief when his blue eyes, placed on his boots, were raised with a special shine on them. There, you understood what he thought about your uncompleted petition. “And about… you know, talking, I wouldn’t mind repeating it anytime else”.
“Only if you sing for me”. Bucky’s voice was like a soft breeze caressing your face, filled with hope and enthusiasm. You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes towards him. “Will be our secret”.
“Okay, deal”. You chuckled nodding. “Good night, Bucky”.
“Good night, (Y/N)”.
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You Are My Home
I DON'T OWN THE PICTURE
Information: This will probably have multiple parts but stand alone (?) I'm a bit nervous to post this cause this is a more personal uhh imagines 😂
Summary: It's been a long time since your friends saw you, a lot has change and you are in a better place in your life. Specially the relationship part
Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen x Reader
Theme: fluff
TW: none (?)
Word Count: 2,241
"Hey guys" you greeted, giving a small smile to your friends. It's been a long time since you all had the chance to talk together
Everyone has been busy and since you left your original city 2 years ago, the best you can do is chat with them once in a while
You are confident that the relationship with them is strong but you are sure many things have changed. But change is good, specially since you left with heavy heart and full of uncertainty
Right now you are in a good position in your life, and everyone is free, or at least made sure to make time. But still, the best you can do is video call for now
After 2 years this is the first time you've seen everyone. While they keep in touch and get together once in a while. You just were too far, both physically and mentally
"Hey, long time no see" Steve teased and you chuckled
"Damn you look good" Natasha commented "been taking care of yourself, I see"
You made a face and nodded "happy now I finally hit the gym like you always nag me to?" She chuckled
"Hey, just want you healthy"
"I know, thank you. Your voice is actually what pushed me in training" you leaned on the table, placing your cheeks on your knuckles "I can just hear you berating me for being so weak"
Everyone chuckled, agreeing that she does do that
"But in all seriousness, you look happy" Bucky complimented
Sighing, you nodded, finally at the position in your life where you can actually see yourself having a bright future
"I am, finally got my shit together, mostly at least"
The topic then transferred to your other friends, enjoying their presence even just from the screen. Laughing together just like the old times
"(Y/n)?" You turn your head to the voice, your girlfriend, Elizabeth calling for you coming from the second floor
"Darling, I'm in the dining" you answered and immediately heard footsteps
Without looking at the screen of your laptop, she smiled, excitedly tilt your head by your chin, kissing you deeply
Every one of your friends are stunned. Of course, you never showed them any public display, not like you had the chance anyway since you never really pursued anyone for years you were with them and now here you are kissing Elizabeth Olsen
Very famous actress, part of big filming companies, a producer as well
"Damn (Y/n)..." Natasha whispered and you laughed when Lizzie finally realized you were actually on a video call
"Oh no, sorry baby" she said wiping your mouth and hers with her sleeves, you shake your head to stop her
"You're fine, or not. But Lizzie, meet my friends" you gestured on the screen and Lizzie shyly waved at them. Blush dusting her cheeks as she pursed her lips into a decent smile. Your taste still lingering on her mouth
They said a quick hi to be polite then suddenly spoke all at once berating you for not telling them you are dating "the Elizabeth Olsen". The actress, the girl of your dreams
Then it was your turn to blush when Bucky mentioned that she's the reason you never had any interest in other people. She was just too 'shiny' to you, the other just seemed dull
Elizabeth looked at you with new found love in her eyes as you got bullied by your friends. She can't help but give you a quick kiss on the cheek before apologizing for interrupting your moment with them again
"Oh no, you did not interrupt at all. We probably wouldn't even know she's dating if you didn't come" Tony said and everyone told him to shut up
"It's not like how it sounds, Ms. Olsen. (Y/n) is very proud of you, she just really doesn't like speaking about her relationships" Peter explained and Elizabeth chuckled
"Oh I know, that's why we are not in public anyway" she patted your head "but it's okay. I don't want to drag her in the mess of Hollywood so if you can just keep all this between us" she gave everyone a small smile and they either shrugged or nodded
"No problem" Natasha answered "I'll make sure these idiots don't slip up"
Elizabeth gave them a big smile before she left to get breakfast. Once she is gone though they started attacking you with questions again
"Fine fine" you sighed, finally giving up "we met a few months after I left, I applied to the Marvel Studio as set decorator. I was fixing up the set the night before with a bunch of my coworkers so the shooting will proceed with ease. I'm usually just there at night so when she came looking for her phone, which I actually picked up and was planning to give to the lost and found before leaving, they pointed her to me. I gave it to her, she thanked me and that was it'' you shrugged
"Then how did you two got together"
Pursing your lips, knowing they wouldn't stop anyway you told them
It was the wrap up of the filming for Endgame. The biggest movie you will ever work with if you are honest
A bunch of A-listers are there and a lot of demands have to be met so for the first time, the whole movie you had to be in and out of the sets. You barely slept or ate in the past few months. You apartment even collected dust since all you did there is go home, take a shower, then go out
You mostly slept on set. By the end of the filming your body is screaming for rest. But you kept going anyway. This project is a very big deal for you, specially you lead the look of the set. anything that needs to be changed, moved, removed, added to the set goes through you
So basically, all day you stand in front of the set, watching the designers work their magics and you requesting changes, assessing the atmosphere in pre production and etc. and at night, clean up and set up is a bitch
One morning you were so tired you wanted to pass out there and then when Elizabeth enter the area. She was shooting all her parts today that can be soloed
You tried to keep yourself awake and alert to anything and everything so when you noticed an uneven ramp and props that she will unfortunately stepped on, your body started running before your mind can comprehend what's happening
She let out a squeal when she broke her ankle and fall but before she hit the ground and risk further injuries on her wrist that is sure to break her fall, you were catching her
But your body felt so weak that instead of staying up right, she fell on you. At least she wasn't hurt at any part of her body but you were, you hit your head on impact but it was minor
If ever, it only made you dizzy
She stood up and you did as well. You rubbed your hand on your face, ordering staffs to re-arrange and clean up the set so no more obstacle can cause accidents
You didn't even dare look at her eyes knowing those green orbs will suck your life out of you. You asked her if she's okay, also apologizing for the dangerous set up. It was overlooked that she would be indeed walking in heels, boots but heels nevertheless
"It's fine, I'm fine" she said, smiling but her eyes are full of worry "are you though? You hit your head when you broke my fall" she said, even unconsciously touching it
"Uh yeah..." you awkwardly smiled at her "it doesn't hurt, thanks" you then slowly back away. When the props have been arrange, the shooting started but your body felt so weak you had to call your assistant to cover for you
You went to the area where you always rested and slept. You were out for almost 2 hours when a cough woke you up. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and ask what they need without even looking at them
"I...brought you food, and coffee" your head snapped, looking at the voice you only dream of talking . She had a small and awkward smile and shy look in her eyes directed to you
"I was looking for you where you usually stand but noticed you weren't there" she explained, your face obviously gave your confusion away "I wanted to thank you again, the stunt director said that if it weren't for you, I would most likely break my wrist in that fall"
You slowly nodded, giving her a small smile "well, it was our fault for not triple checking the set"
"No no, please don't do that, accidents happen, I'm just here to thank you. It was me being clumsy too" You look at her with newfound admiration, a firm believer of 'never meet your idol, it will disappoint you'. But it wasn't the case with her at all
You are aware of the rumors that she's actually very kind, down to earth and serious with her job. It's a good rumor considering she is well known and if you are honest, you know deep in your heart it is true, but you never get your hopes up high
If only you met in a different circumstance, maybe you would think of trying to flirt a little but you know your place. This is a work situation and you need to be as professional as you can be. She is still an actress after all, you need to respect her space
It doesn't mean that she is being kind to you, it's an invitation to step into that space of hers. So you muster the most professional smile you can
"Well thanks, it's really no problem" you said with indifference and if you are actually not too much in your head, you will see her frown with the change of tone
She then handed you the food and the coffee "I'd actually like to talk more again sometimes" she said, swallowing the tightness in her throat "maybe for a coffee?"
The invitation did wonders in your body. Your heart is just beating a tad bit faster, your stomach filled with butterflies, your cheeks turning red. All the cliché reactions you can feel, it's there but then you moved and you groaned, your body sore from over work
You were so sure you wanted to say yes, but your body clearly wanted to say no. After this shooting, you just want to drop dead in your apartment and maybe wake up 3 months after
"I'm just so tired recently, I will be no fun" you chuckled, exhaustion dripping on every syllable "but hey, maybe a few weeks after the filming is done, if you are still up for it?"
The sadness of rejection from earlier was turned into a big grin. Her excitement sparkled on her eyes "sure, I'd give you my number then"
You nodded and gave her your phone. She didn't even have to ask for a password because you never put one in. It's easier since you give your phone to your assistants all the time to contact people for updates on props shipments and other business related matter
She excitedly tapped her number, saving it as 'Scarlet Witch' and that made you giggle. Using her screen name that's not even canon yet
"Okay, Scarlet Witch, I'll call you when I finally get some well deserve hibernation, then maybe I'll be more fun to talk to than a usual" She laughed and nodded and you are so sure you can never be more in love with her voice
She then said a few more things before leaving you to rest. You thanked her again for the food and coffee before she disappeared
"I can't believe you almost rejected her" Steve said wide eyed "she's like, your dream woman"
"Oh I can" Natasha said "(Y/n) doesn't hit uncertain, have you ever played with her on anything? All her hits are aces!"
"But it's like the chance of a lifetime!"
"Yeah! That's why you make sure you attack when you know it will hit!"
The two started bickering and you all just watched, laughing at their same old antics. Elizabeth then walk to your side, offering you a fruit bowl for breakfast, you thanked her and then invited her to seat besides you and she did, you kissed her off camera
"What was that?" She chuckled but tried to catch your lips again when you pulled away, you giggled at her pouty face
"Nothing, just suddenly can't believe I'm actually dating you" she sighed, giving you a small smile
"You might think that you're the lucky one but it's actually me" she said, pressing a hand on your cheeks and squeezing it lightly "you make my life whole, (Y/n), you filled the space in my heart where money or popularity cannot"
"And you picked up and fixed my broken pieces" you countered, leaning on her hand that's now just slowly rubbing your cheeks
"I guess we are both lucky then"
"Yeah"
Your eyes both glint the same way. Feeling like you finally found where you belong, in each other. You are home
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Day at the Park | dad!Bucky Barnes x reader
Requested by anon / Summary: You and Bucky take your daughter to the park.
A/N: anon who requested this, I hope it’s what you wanted and that you enjoy! xx
Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx
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! Warning: some sexual suggestions
“mommy we’re ready!” Your daughter announces as she enters you and Bucky’s bedroom. You’d left Bucky in charge of getting her dressed to go to the park while you got ready yourself. You’re now slightly regretting that decision. Your daughter was dressed in shorts with a tank top that did not match and her purple rain boots. It was not raining outside nor was there even a chance of rain. And her hair was pulled back into a braid, but it was a messy braid that you recognized as Bucky’s work.
“Oh..” You force a smile, “Are you sure you want to wear those boots? It’s hot outside and it’s not supposed to rain.”
“hey she said she wanted to wear the boots.” Bucky says, ruffling her hair, “She’s determined to wear the boots too.”
Your daughter nods with a grin, “Plus, what if it rains?”
You laugh and nod, “Okay.. well at least let me fix your hair? That braid looks like it could fall out any minute.”
Your daughter squeals as Bucky picks her up and puts her on the bed in front of you, “Yeah that wasn’t my best work.”
“it’s okay babe, braiding just isn’t a part of your resume.” You move behind your daughter to fix the mess on her head, “Did you make sure the bag was packed?”
“Sandwiches, snacks, drinks and sunscreen.” He nods, “I can pack a bag.” He smirks proudly.
“I left everything on the table for you to pack the bag.” You tease, “All you did was put it in the bag.”
“I still fit it all in a bag though.” He points out.
You laugh and nod, finishing up your daughters hair, “Ready to go, bug?”
She nods and jumps off the bed, running passed Bucky. You get off the bed and slip on your shoes.
“Come on..” Bucky sneaks his hands around your middle from behind, “Don’t you want another?” His breath is on your ear and he kisses that spot below your ear.
“Hmm..” You hum, “maybe.”
“mama! Dada! Let’s go!” Your daughter yells, interrupting the moment.
“Now I remember why we don’t have another!” He says pulling away from you, “We don’t ever get a moment to ourselves!”
You laugh and follow him out, “We’ll have another one eventually.”
~
“y/d/n, wait!” Bucky calls out to her as she starts toward the swings, “sunscreen.”
Your daughter groans but stomps back toward her dad, the same look on her face that Bucky has when he doesn’t get what he wants, “Why do I have to? it’s shady!”
“Because doll,” He puts some on her arms, “even though it’s shady, you can still get burned and i don’t want you to burn.” He pokes a little sunscreen on her nose, making her giggle, “I wouldn’t want you to look like a lobster!” He then rubs it over her cheeks. “Okay, all done. Now you can go play.”
She heads back toward the swings, but stops and turns around, “aren’t you coming with me?” A pout on her lips.
“You going to be okay here?” Bucky asks you.
You hold your book up, “I’m perfectly fine. Go play.”
He kisses your head and then heads off toward your daughter, picking her up and tickling her sides. Her giggles fill the park and it brings a smile to your lips. You watch as he takes her to one of the swings, putting her on it and instructing her to hold on before he starts swinging her.
She’s had him wrapped around her finger since the day she was born. Literally. The first time he held her after she was born, she’d wrapped her small hand around his finger and you saw that look in his eyes. She’d changed his life right then and there and had him wrapped around her finger.
“I don’t know doll, we’ll have to go ask mommy.” Bucky tells your daughter as they walk back to you hand and hand.
“mommy!” Your daughter squeals and attacks you in a hug.
“What is it baby girl?”
“Can we please get ice cream? Oh please.” She pulls away and puts her hands in front of her, giving you the best puppy face, “Please please please!” She glances over at Bucky, “Oh right!” He then bends closer to her level, doing the exact same face, “Please Mommy?”
You laugh and shake your head, “And where do you see ice cream?”
She points off to the side of the playground where a woman and a cart are making their way through the park. “But you haven’t had your lunch yet.” You point out, “You’ll ruin your lunch.”
Your daughter lets out a whimper, looking to Bucky for help. “Mommy’s right, you’ll ruin your lunch.”
“But.. but.” Her bottom lip starts to quiver, “it’s ice cream...”
You sigh and stand, holding your hand out to her, “You’re right, it’s ice cream. We can’t miss out on that!”
She lets out a happy sound, grabbing your hand and practically pulling the both of you toward the ice cream cart, Bucky following close behind.
As she stands and looks at the different choices, Bucky puts a hand on your waist, “You spoil her too much.”
“Oh I spoil her?” You raise an eyebrow at him, “you never tell her no!”
He groans, “I know, but one look at those eyes.. and how can I say no?”
You laugh with a shake of your head, “Alright, baby girl what do you want?” You bend down next to her.
“I want that one!” She points to the blue powderpuff girl popsicle.
“That sounds like a good choice.” You kiss her cheek and stand up to tell the woman what you three want and Bucky hands over the cash. The three of you make your way back to the blanket and sit down to eat. You open the popsicle and fix the wrapper for your daughter to help catch some of the melted portion and then open yours.
“You know she’s going to get that all over her.” Bucky says taking a bite of his.
You shrug, “That’s why they make water and soap.” You lean back against Bucky’s chest and watch as your daughter does for sure get the popsicle all over her clothes, her face and even the blanket. But the smile on her face is priceless.
Bucky holds his ice cream to you, “Bite?”
You nod, holding yours to him, “Don’t take that gum ball eye. It’s my favorite part.”
He nods, “Yes ma’am..” Taking a bite of yours, he’s careful to miss the gum ball eye.
You hum as you bite into his, “That’s good.”
He reaches up and wipes the bit of ice cream off your lip with the pad of his thumb, “Dirty girl.” He whispers in your ear. He’s really pushing for that second baby.
~
After a few more hours at the park, your daughter finally starts to crash. She comes back from the playground in Bucky’s arms, her head on his shoulder as she yawns and rubs her eyes. “I think it’s time for her nap. Someone’s tired.” Bucky says, rubbing her back and only putting her closer to a nap.
You pack everything up and the three of you walk back to the apartment, your hand in Bucky’s and your daughter fast asleep on his shoulder; a perfect little family.
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They Can’t Take That Away From Me (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)
Hello again! It is with great excitement that I present you all with the first part of the “Love Goes” sequel! I’m still trying to come up with a name (suggestions welcome lol).
A good amount of dialogue from Wandavision is used here since it felt necessary to set the story up. Songs used are “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” by Frank Sinatra (1954) and “Lego House” by Ed Sheeran (2011). Let me know what you think!
Summary: What is life like for Y/n and Wanda in the 1950s? And what shenanigans will they be getting into?
There was an odd sensation of confusion as Wanda looked around the home. Now that you had gone to work she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. Even though you had only been gone a moment, she couldn’t help the excitement that built within her at the thought of you walking through the door again.
Much to Wanda’s relief, she wasn’t left alone with her thoughts long as an unexpected knock on the front door caught her attention. With furrowed brows she made her way over to the front door and opened it. A hesitant smile appeared on her face as a woman holding a plant smiled brightly back at her.
“Hello, dear. I’m Agnes. Your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours.” The woman informed her cheerfully as she made her way into the home before Wanda could even get a word out. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you. My mother-in-law was in town… So, I wasn’t.”
The sound of laughter floated into Wanda’s ears as she smiled back at Agnes who offered her the plant which she graciously accepted. Agnes began speaking again before Wanda got the chance. “So, what’s your name? Where are you from? And most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?”
The woman wandered further into the home as Wanda closed the door and rushed over to her, the smile of a perfect hostess never falling from her lips. “I’m Wanda.” She replied politely as she offered her a hand.
Agnes took her offered hand and shook it lightly. “Wanda. Charmed.” She looked around. “Golly! You settled in fast. Did you use a moving company?”
With wide eyes, Wanda turned and placed the plant on the table. “I sure did. Those boxes don’t move themselves.” She replied lightly, the polite smile returning to her face as laughter once again floated around her.
“So, what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house?”
Wanda waved her hand dismissively. That was something she certainly wasn’t. “Oh no, I’m not single.”
Agnes titled her head slightly in surprise. “Oh, I don’t see a ring.”
Glancing down at her finger for a moment, Wanda furrowed her brow before snapping her head back up to meet Agnes’ eyes. The smile never wavering. “I assure you. I’m married. To a woman. A wonderful woman. A writer at that!”
“A woman?” Agnes asked excitedly. “How nifty! Where exactly is your special lady?” She questioned as she took a seat on the couch.
Wanda’s smile changed slightly and become something softer as she thought of you fondly. A change she didn’t even notice herself as she settled into the space next to Agnes. “She’s off at work. Meeting with her editor today.” She said, a proud tinge to her voice.
“Well, that’s exciting!” Agnes exclaimed, “It must be a dream to be married to a writer! Maybe she can teach my Ralph a thing or two on how to romance a woman.”
A bashful smile spread across Wanda’s lips. “I can’t speak for other writers, but mine certainly is a dream.”
Agnes gestured to the round table in front of them. “So, what’s the occasion today?”
For a moment Wanda merely stared at Agnes with confusion. Until her eyes fell to the calendar on the table which had a heart drawn in the box for the day’s date. The calendar which she oddly hadn’t noticed until that moment. “Well, it’s a special occasion, of course! Y/n must have left it there for me to find.”
Excitedly, Agnes leaned forward. “Is it someone’s birthday?”
“Not a birthday.” Wanda replied with a shake of her head, she knew that couldn’t be it.
In response, Agnes’ own eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Well, today isn’t a holiday, is it?”
“No, not a holiday…”
“An anniversary then?”
“Y-… Yes!” Wanda agreed quickly as she pointed at Agnes in recognition. “Yes, it’s our anniversary!”
Agnes reached out to take Wanda’s hands with an enthusiastic smile. “Oh, how marvelous! How many years?”
For a moment Wanda hesitated, something told her that answer wasn’t a simple one. “Well… it feels like we’ve always been together.”
“How romantic! So… what do you have planned?” Agnes questioned.
“How do you mean?”
Agnes chuckled as if Wanda’s reply amused her. “For your special night! A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but it’s still fun to set the scene!”
A nervous look came across Wanda’s features as she considered Agnes’ words. Before she could reply, Agnes interrupted again. “Oh! I have the perfect article to help us plan!” She said eagerly as she rushed to the door. “This is gonna be a gas!”
Wanda turned away from the door with a dreamy smile as thoughts of spending a romantic evening with you filled her mind. _______________________ “Y/ln!”
The shout startled you, and the clacking sounds that floated from your typewriter ground to a halt as you jumped up and turned towards the sound of the voice. “Yes, sir?”
“My office. Now.” The curly haired man huffed as he turned on his heel to go back in the direction that he came.
Your desk mate, who’s name you couldn’t seem to remember, why couldn’t you remember, turned to you with a sympathetic smile as he pat your shoulder. “Tough luck, pal. Looks like boss man isn’t in good mood today.”
A tight, nervous smile was all you could muster as you quickly shuffled all your papers into your arms, grabbing your notebook as you left. With hesitant feet you stepped into the office. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
The curly haired man gestured to the empty seat in front of his desk as he lit a cigar. You sat with a nervous smile. “Just wanted to check in and make sure you’re ready for your dinner with Hart tonight. One of the biggest publishers in town. Sign with Hart, then you’re set for life, kid.”
“Of course, I am.” You replied quickly, even though you had no idea what meeting he was talking about.
“You better be, kid, or else you’re done. I took a chance on you. Don’t make me regret it.” Through a puff of smoke, he gestured you out of his office which you didn’t hesitate to take.
Hurriedly you ran over to the phone on your desk, dialing in the only number you knew. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when an answer floated through the receiver on the second ring. “Wanda, darling, I was just calling to see if you were prepared for tonight.”
“Why, of course, dear. I have everything under control.” Came her easy reply.
You breathed a sigh of relief as your shoulders dropped. “So, you know?”
The sound of her light laughter filled your ears, making you smile. “Well, when I saw the calendar I just figured.”
“That’s a relief… I must admit, I am rather nervous.”
After a brief pause, Wanda replied. “Nervous? Whatever for?”
With a quick glance back in the direction of the office, you answered. “Well you know situations like this always make me jittery, darling. It’s a tad nerve wracking.”
“Oh, Y/n. After all this time?”
Nervously you began playing with the cord of the phone, barely even processing her words. “I think there’s a lot depending on this, Wanda. If tonight doesn’t go well, I think this could be the end.”
Another glance back at the office showed your boss yelling at your desk mate. “Well, it’s just one night. There’s no need to get dramatic.”
Again, your nerves made it difficult for you to process her words. “With you at the helm, I know everything will go well. Until tonight, my darling. I love you.”
The smile in her voice was obvious as she responded. “Until tonight. I love you.”
When you placed the phone back on the receiver, you couldn’t help but notice the song playing from the radio, something about a star-spangled man. A thought felt as though it was forming in your mind before the song was abruptly cut out, and a new song drifted out of the radio.
“We may never never meet again, on that bumpy road to love, still I'll always, always keep the memory of…”
___________________
When you entered your home, you couldn’t help the confusion that appeared at the sight of the clearly romantic atmosphere that was set up. The lights were dimmed, and candles were spread throughout the room.
“Wanda?” You called out hesitantly, placing your briefcase and the papers in your arms off to the side of the entryway.
The woman in question sauntered in the room with a coy smile on her face. “Hello, darling.” She made her way over to you and draped her arms over your shoulders. “I missed you.” She whispered as she leaned closer.
Any thoughts that had previously occupied your mind vanished as every aspect of the woman before you invaded all your senses with ease. “Wow. Wanda… You look… breath taking.” You breathed out.
With loving arms, you pulled her closer as your fingertips skimmed over the soft and flimsy silk of the dress she had on. Like magnets your lips met in a tender embrace, a soft sigh escaping your lips at the sensation. Wanda pulled you closer fervently as her hands tangled into your hair.
A sharp knock at the front door startled you apart a moment later as your eyes widened with the realization of what you were supposed to be prepping for flooded back. “Hart!” You whisper yelled as you rushed to the mirror to fix your hair.
“Hart?” Wanda questioned in confusion.
“My publisher! I thought you knew?” You quickly turned to her, your confusion matching hers as another impatient knock appeared at the door. “I have to let them in!”
Wanda’s eyes widened. “Y/n, no! My dre-“ Her words were cut short as you had already opened the door, you own eyes widening when you realized what she was saying.
Without thinking you moved behind the man and covered his eyes with your hands, Wanda following your lead as she covered the eyes of the woman standing next to him. “Y/ln, what’s the meaning of this?” The man exclaimed as you looked over to Wanda with wide eyes.
With a snap of her fingers, the beautiful dress she was wearing seconds before was replaced with a much more modest one. You both removed your hands from the guests and stepped in front of them with sheepish smiles. “Well, you see, sir…” you trailed off as you attempted to think of a reasonable response.
“It’s a tradition Sokovian greeting!” Wanda exclaimed, you nodded enthusiastically, thankful for her save.
You smiled nervously, “Yes! It is a traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality, sir. My wife is from Sokovia.” Nerves began to bubble in your chest which Wanda noticed as she took your hand to steady you which immediately eliminated any feelings of discomfort. You loved her so much.
The woman chuckled lightly. “How exotic.”
“Mr. Hart, this is my wife, Wanda. Wanda, this is Mr. Hart.” You introduced quickly to steer the conversation back to where it should be. “And this must be Mrs. Hart.” you offered your free hand to the younger woman standing next to Mr. Hart as Wanda dropped the other.
The woman took your hand with an amused smirk as she eyed you. “Are you insane? This is my daughter.” Mr. Hart said gruffly, “My wife is out of town at the moment. My daughter has an eye for quality, so I brought her along.”
“Eleanor Hart. You can call me Ellie.” The woman offered, as you uncomfortably took your hand back from her. There was something familiar about her, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.
Wanda walked off to pull a cloth off of one of the lampshades before taking your hand again. “Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?”
“Excuse us.” You said quickly as Wanda was already dragging you out of the room. You blew out a candle along the way.
When you both reached the safety of the kitchen Wanda spun around to face you, “Who are those people?”
Instead of answering you asked your own question. “What was happening earlier?”
“Well, it’s our anniversary!”
A look of confusion quickly overtook your features. “Our anniversary of what?”
Wanda threw down the cloth still in her hands and sulked away. “Well if you don’t know I’m not going to tell you!”
“That man in there is Mr. Hart, my publisher! My editor set up this dinner for us, so we could discuss publishing my book.” You explained as you gestured vaguely to the window in the kitchen.
A look of realization crossed Wanda’s features as the disembodied laughter floated in the air again. “That must have been what the heart on the calendar meant.”
You took Wanda’s hand in your own, an apologetic look in your eyes. “Darling, this was so romantic to do. The candles, the music, that stunning dress…” You trailed off as your eyes glazed over at the thought. Wanda snapped her fingers in front of your face to get you to refocus. “Right. I don’t want to be unappreciative, but right now…”
“Your publisher and his touchy daughter are expecting a home-cooked meal?” She supplied helpfully.
You nodded sheepishly. “Exactly.”
Wanda glanced over at the table in the kitchen. “Any chance they’d settle for a chocolate covered strawberry split three ways?” Once again, the laughter floated through the air as you winced. “I might have a better idea.” Wanda announced as she ushered you out of the kitchen.
When the door to the kitchen swung shut behind you, Wanda rushed out the back door as you made your way over to Mr. Hart and Ellie so you could attempt to entertain them for the time being. It wasn’t long before commotion in the kitchen caught the guest’s attention which you were able to distract them from.
The second time the commotion began it seemed as though there would be no distracting Ellie.
“Maybe I should see if Wanda needs help while you and my father discuss business. I sense trouble.” Ellie announced as she made her way over to the closed shutters that looked into the kitchen.
Nervously you stood up as the commotion in the kitchen continued. “Ellie, I insist you don’t-“ The woman kept moving forward though and eventually opened the shutters which you could see into as she was opening them. The sight wouldn’t be one that would be easy to explain as practically everything in the kitchen was floating around Wanda.
Thinking quickly, you sang the first and only song that came to your mind to distract them. “I’m out of touch, I’m out of love, I’ll pick you up when you’re getting down. And-”
As soon as the song began falling from your lips both of the Harts began turning in your direction, only they seemed to be frozen mid turn.
“-out of all these things I’ve done, I think I love you better now.” You murmured along to the lyrics that were drifting out of the speaker at your feet as you swayed lightly to the slow tempo of the song. Your eyes stayed locked on the woman in your arms.
The arms that were circled around your midsection tightened as Wanda lifted her head from your shoulder to meet your eyes. The look in her eyes was staggering. You had almost forgotten what oxygen was when Wanda was near. You didn’t care though, you’d happily stop breathing if it meant she was by your side. She was a different kind of air.
Wanda grazed her palm along your cheekbone. You easily leaned into her touch. “You never gave me a choice, you know?” Wanda whispered even though she didn’t need to.
“A choice for what?”
“Loving you. It’s as easy as breathing. You are a part of me. I’ll never be able to love someone else.” The words fell from her lips so easily and you couldn’t help the way your heart beat heavily against your ribcage as though it were trying to get to her.
Closing the short distance, you connected your lips to hers. “Loving you was never a choice. It was a necessity.” You mumbled against her lips.
Wanda pulled back and just stared at you adoringly. “If I could go back, I would love you longer.” Your brows furrowed, you didn’t know why but you knew the response was out of place. “There’s never been anyone but you. Never. Not before, not now, and not in the future.” Wanda whispered fiercely as the compound around you began to fade and you both drifted away as pieces of the living room began to form again…
Suddenly the Harts completed their turn and stared at you in shock. You glanced up at Wanda in confusion, seeing the kitchen appliances still floating around her. You didn’t know what just happened and you hoped she’d be able to offer clarity.
When you met Wanda’s eyes though they were filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite register… except you could. It was pain. Before you could react, she waved a hand and the shutters closed once again.
“Golly, what tune was that you were just singing there?” Ellie questioned excitedly, “It sure was nice.”
You smiled politely, unsure how to answer the question yourself. “Just something I heard a long time ago.”
“A writer and a singer? Your wife sure is a lucky gal.” Ellie replied with a wink
The flirtatious comment made you shift uncomfortably where you stood. “The lucky one is definitely me. Wanda is heaven sent. Perfecti-”
“When is dinner going to be ready?” Ellie questioned abruptly, interrupting the day dreamy look in your eyes as you spoke of Wanda. “My head is spinning.” She added as she leaned on you for support.
Mr. Hart marched over to you as you nervously used your hand to fan his daughter. “Do you hear that? My daughters head is spinning. Generally speaking, I don’t like her head to do that.” You winced. Ellie leaned further into you, forcing you to use your arms to support her.
The lecture Mr. Hart was giving you continued. “You know, I’m beginning to think you aren’t worth publishing. I had high hopes for you after speaking to your editor. From what I’ve seen here tonight, you can barely keep it together. Look around there’s all this chaos in your househo-“
“Dinner is served.” Wanda interrupted as she stood by the table with an uneasy smile, her eyes expressing her discontent at Ellie’s position even if she didn’t say it.
Mr. Hart turned to eye the table as you breathed a sigh of relief. “Breakfast for dinner, how very…”
“European?” Ellie finished with an entertained smile, still leaning on you.
Thankful for the lighter shift in atmosphere, you quickly moved away from Ellie and rushed over to the table. “Let’s have a toast!”
Everyone gathered around the table. “To my lovely and talented wife.” You stared at Wanda adoringly as you raised your glass.
“To our esteemed guests.” Wanda countered with a smirk as everyone around the table clinked glasses. “Well, please, eat before it gets cold.”
Everyone took a seat around the table. “So, where did you two move from? What brought you here? How long have you been married?” Ellie rapidly spouted off.
The polite smile on Wanda’s face faltered slightly as she seemed to ponder the questions. You chuckled nervously. “I think what my wife means to say is w-we moved from-”
“Yes, we moved from…” Wanda interrupted only to pause in thought.
“And we were married…” You stopped as well to think of the answer, why couldn’t you think of the answer. You picked up a fork to keep your hands occupied.
“Yes, yes, we were married…” Wanda looked at you, confusion in her eyes.
“Well, moved from where? Married when?” Mr. Hart asked impatiently.
Ellie pushed the food around her plate. She seemed amused at the situation. “Patience, Dad. They’re setting up their story. Let them tell it.”
“Our story…” Wanda began again, a nervous chuckle escaped her lips.
Mr. Hart looked between the two of you in annoyance. “Yes, what exactly is your story? I think it’s a perfectly simple question.”
Wanda stared blankly at the table as you felt a pressure begin to build in your temples. You held back a grimace.
The walls in the room began to feel suffocating and the dress you had on felt constricting. Your breathing became heavier as your continued to desperately search your mind for something, anything. A memory that existed before this morning. The floor around the table began to splinter slightly as the fork in your hand folded in on itself.
“Honestly, why did you come here? Why?” Mr. Hart slammed his hand on the table causing you both to jump. Your thoughts were racing as you wracked your brain for the answers to his questions but kept coming up blank.
A large crack in the floor appeared by Mr. Hart’s chair as he fell back, stuck on the edge, frozen in fear.
Ellie smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dad, stop it.” The gap by the table widened as Mr. Hart teetered precariously on the edge, still frozen in shock. “Stop it.” She repeated.
Wanda’s eyes widened in concern as you vaguely saw wisps float over to the gap but do nothing. The pressure in your head became even stronger as the world around you became more difficult to register.
“Stop it. Stop it.” Ellie kept repeating as she turned her attention to Wanda. Mr. Hart hanging over the gap by his fingers.
“Y/n. Help him.” Wanda said assertively as the racing in your mind came to a halt. You stared at the scene before you in horror. With subtle wave of your fingers, the gap closed as Mr. Hart was once again on flat ground.
You rushed over to help him. “Let me help you up.”
When he was once again on his feet, Mr. Hart glanced at his watch. “Well, would you look at the time.”
“We better be going.” Ellie added as she stood up.
Wanda looked at them both cautiously, the polite smile making a reappearance, but much more tentative than before. “Are you both alright?”
“We had such a lovely time.” Ellie wandered over to you and shook your hand once again a moment too long, the flirtatious smile returning.
With an uncomfortable smile, you pulled your hand back and made your way over to Mr. Hart. “You made me proud tonight. First thing Monday morning, I’ll make a call to your editor and let him know we have a deal.”
The final remnants of confusion faded away at his words as you eagerly shook his hand with a broad smile. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” Wanda let them both out as you each leaned against the closest object near you and breathed a sigh of relief.
After taking a moment to collect, you both wandered over to the couch. You easily wrapped an arm around her. “You know, we are an unusual couple.” Wanda stated.
“Oh, I don’t think that was ever in question.” You replied as the disembodied laughter rang out again.
Wanda leaned into you, “We don’t have an anniversary… or even wedding rings.”
You rubbed her arm soothingly. “Well, today could be our anniversary.” You offered.
“Of what? Surviving our first dinner party?” She questioned with an amused smile.
You chuckled. “Precisely.”
“And the wedding rings?” She asked.
“Well, couldn’t you make some for us?” You questioned as you held out a hand, smiling when she mimicked your action.
With a wave of her finger, beautiful rings appeared on both of your ring fingers. “I do.” You said softly before turning your head to look at her. “Do you?”
“Of course. I do.” Wanda replied tenderly as she intertwined your fingers. The disembodied voices cooed.
“And they lived happily ever after.”
“And we have a happy ending.” Wanda whispered. A brief flash of something flickered in Wanda’s eyes, but before you could analyze she leaned in and lovingly connected her lips with yours in a sweet kiss. . . . . . . . . As the credits rolled there was a brief moment of silence as everyone stared at the screen. “I told you star-spangled man wouldn’t work. This is the 50s, not the 40s.” Darcy said pointedly.
The sound of a soft thud filled the room from Natasha hitting the back of Steve’s head. “I thought it would be close enough.” Steve grumbled as he rubbed the back of his head.
Fury stared at the screen intensely. “I know that woman, but how did she get there.” He mumbled more to himself than the people in the room. “I think I know someone who we can send in.” He eventually addressed the room.
They all turned to look at him. “Let’s do it. Rogers ideas obviously aren’t working.” Natasha answered as Steve crossed his arms in annoyance.
There it is! Part 1 of the “Love Goes” sequel. This one felt a little constricted by the episode because a lot of it still felt necessary as it introduced the newer characters which is why a lot of dialogue from the first episode was used here. The italicized portion was a memory in case that was a little confusing. Also “Star-Spangled Man” is from the first captain America movie lol. I’m actually kind of excited about this though! As always, let me know your thoughts, they’re always welcome!
P.s. I pictured Emma Watson as Ellie because Emma Watson. :)
#wanda#wanda maximoff#wanda maximov#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff x reader#wandavision#wanda x reader#wanda x y/n#wanda x you#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda mcu#wanda maximoff x y/n#mcu x reader#MCU x Y/N#The Avengers#avengers x you#avengers x y/n#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff imagine
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Same universe as the one where LXC kills JGY on a boat to not-Japan. JRS-centric as he grows up in the Nie clan and deals with his reputation as an inbred son of a traitorous bastard.
so I don't think I've ever written a fic in which LXC kills JGY on a boat, and definitely not one where JRS is a character? I mean, I've written a lot of fics, so possibly I did and I forgot, but I'm pretty sure about this one.
That being said, I don't think I've gotten any Jin Rusong prompts before so I'm reinterpreting this to be a prompt for a fic about JRS growing up in the Nie clan. Fic below!
ao3
-
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Nie Huaisang reminded himself. Risk is proportionate with reward. Your spine should be made of steel, just as your saber is.
He licked his lips, thought of his brother who had loved him, and threw himself forward with tears in his eyes.
“Oh, gongzi!” he blubbered. “Can you help me? I’ve gotten completelylost, I don’t even know where to begin –”
Xue Yang blinked at him, the lids of his eyes moving slowly like a reptile.
“Maybe you know where my san-ge is? Lianfeng-zun?”
The feeling of immediate threat lessened. It seemed he’d gambled right, and the rabid dog that was Xue Yang could still be controlled by reference to Jin Guangyao.
“I’d really appreciate it if you could just give me some guidance on where to find him,” Nie Huaisang said, lowering his voice confidentially. “I’d be sure to pay you back! If there’s anything you want –”
“Do you have any snacks?” Xue Yang asked.
Nie Huaisang, who had come prepared based on the rumors he’d painstakingly collected, produced some dragons’ beard candy.
“Not bad,” Xue Yang said. “Okay, sure.”
Nie Huaisang smiled, and even meant it.
-
“Hey, good-for-nothing,” Xue Yang said, and Nie Huaisang turned to look at his least favorite but nevertheless highly useful source of information in Lanling Jin. The fact that Xue Yang had no idea that he was functioning as such just made it more satisfactory. “You like kids, right?”
Nie Huaisang blinked. “Yes?” he hazarded, not so much because he actually did – he’d never had strong feelings about children one way or the other, though perhaps he was being presumptuous in thinking that the reference did not involve goats – but because that seemed to be the answer Xue Yang was looking for.
Xue Yang wrinkled his nose in distaste, though not, Nie Huaisang thought, at him.
“Theoretically,” he said, and he wouldn’t know ‘theoretical’ if it hit him in the face, “if there were, I don’t know, a whole bunch of them hanging around somewhere without parents, you’d be able to do something about that, right? Especially if they had a talent for cultivation?”
It took only a moment to piece together what must have happened to lead to such a question, given the ruthlessness of the cultivation world and of Jin Guangyao in particular, and Nie Huaisang marveled briefly at the idea that Xue Yang might draw a moral line in the sand over something. Presumably he felt some kinship to the children, being similarly utterly infantile, amoral, and fond of sweet things.
“Oh sure!” he said, playing up the brainless idiot who didn’t know to ask questions. “My sect is always recruiting, you know. We took some losses in the war and, well, I feel like adult cultivators aren’t really all that interestedin joining ever since I took over…”
“Because you’re a waste of space,” Xue Yang said, and Nie Huaisang pouted at him. “Whatever, the important thing is that you have space for kids. Orphans. Think, like, a whole orphanage getting shut down or whatever – anyway, not important. You’d take them back to Qinghe, right?”
“Oh, that would be so wonderful!” Nie Huaisang clapped. “That would suit everyone, wouldn’t it? They don’t have to worry about the children, and we get new disciples. I should tell san-ge – no, on second thought, he might be too busy –”
“Definitely too busy,” Xue Yang said quickly. “Wouldn’t it be nice to accomplish something yourself? You could casually show him that your numbers went up at the end of the month instead so he gives you the credit, without explaining that it’s kids making up the increase.”
“That’s a great idea! He’ll be much more impressed by that, I should definitely do that. Where is the orphanage?”
“…uh, in the forest. The back forest.”
You couldn’t come up with a better lie?
“You already brought them here?” Nie Huaisang asked, batting his eyelashes. “You’re so nice, Xue-xiong! I’ll go tell my second in command to go deal with it right away!”
-
It was in the fifth round of kids getting picked up – small cultivation clans being massacred and there was nothing Nie Huaisang could do about it, because there was either no evidence or else Jin Guangyao had come up with some motive to justify his actions and, inevitably, Lan Xichen would be there behind him, soothing over tempers and providing explanations because he believed him, every time – that something unusual happened.
“Sect Leader Nie,” one of his most trusted subordinates murmured into his ear. “There’s a problem.”
Nie Huaisang found a reason to leave the party early, a reason to go to the rendezvous point, and, once there, found the reason for the problem.
“Oh, hey there,” he said with a smile fixed onto his face by sheer force of willpower, crouching down to make himself seem less intimidating. Not that he was ever particularly intimidating, though given the rage coursing through his veins right now, he thought he might be able to pull it off if he tried. “What a lucky chance! It’s so funny, finding you here, Songsong. How are you?”
Jin Rusong wiped his eyes and looked tearily at him, recognized that the person asking was his Little Uncle Nie, and threw himself into Nie Huaisang’s arms with a howl.
This was pretty typical – Jin Rusong wasn’t much of a crier, but when he did he definitely took Nie Huaisang as his model, something all the other adults in the cultivation world had a tendency to give Nie Huaisang dirty looks over.
The only problem here, of course, was that Jin Rusong was dead.
Or, rather…he was supposed to be dead.
And if Jin Rusong was here – here, in the rendezvous point where Xue Yang put those of his prospective victims that happened to be a little too young for even him to stomach killing, at least without the personal grudge that had driven him to slaughter the Chang clan in its entirety – that meant only one thing.
Jin Guangyao had ordered his own son to be murdered.
Through demonic cultivation, no less, which was a pretty nasty way to go. There was a reason everyone implicitly countenanced Jiang Cheng’s vendetta against demonic cultivators no matter where they were, even when he ignored all territory lines and forgot to not ask for permission – the things a demonic cultivator gone bad could do were just so much worse than what anyone else could that they couldn’t risk any delay in dealing with the problem.
Well, shit, Nie Huaisang thought, even as he comforted Jin Rusong, petting the toddler’s back to try to get him to calm down. What do I do now?
-
“There has to be a reason,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “He’s not rabid. Songsong was his son!”
“Sect Leader Nie, we can’t find anything that might explain it.”
“Look harder. I don’t care how minor it is, I want to know everythingto do with Songsong. Every little detail – every person who saw him – every medical report, every compliment, every good grade –”
“He placed last in one of his classes,” one of his spies volunteered.
“What?”
“He placed last in one of his classes. About two months before his ‘assassination’, and shortly before his father started collecting evidence against the other sects that were in his way, which he later used to ‘prove’ that they had been involved in the alleged murder.”
“He wouldn’t kill his son for failing a class,” one of the others objected. “The kid’s barely more than a baby. What’s he expecting, genius from birth?”
“He’s a genius himself. Why not?”
“If everyone inherited everything directly from their parents, he’d be a whore.”
“He’d be a Jin. They’ve all got that nose, every one of them…”
“I heard he’s having the other Jin bastards killed. All of them, even the women…”
Something snapped in Nie Huaisang’s hands.
They all turned to look at him.
“Investigate Qin Su,” he said, looking down at the mess of wood and paper that had once been a fan. “Come to think of it, she has a Jin nose, too.”
-
“I don’t want to go!”
“I don’t want you to go, either,” Nie Huaisang said, feeling tired and also much more in sympathy with his poor older brother than he’d ever been while Nie Mingjue had been alive. “But you disobeyed me, and that means we don’t have a choice. You have to go.”
Nie Songsong looked down at the ground, his lip quivering. “I didn’t mean to…”
“You did,” Nie Huaisang said. “You have to own your decisions, Songsong. You can’t take them back once they’re done, no matter what the consequences. Not even if you feel bad, but definitely not because you feel bad for having to pay for what you did.”
“But…”
“No, Songsong. You cannot be in the Unclean Realm when – when he’s here.”
Nie Songsong hung his head.
“He’s not your father anymore,” Nie Huaisang said. “You know that, right?”
Nie Songsong nodded.
Nie Huaisang sighed and held out his hands, and his arms were full of a teary-eyed child a moment later.
“He loved you once,” Nie Huaisang murmured into his child’s hair. “I love you now. I wish I could give you more than that – I wish I could give you an answer, tell you why he didn’t love you enough to keep from doing what he did. But I can’t. All I can do…”
Is what I’m already doing.
“You’re enough, er-ge,” Nie Songsong whispered back. “You’re enough. I promise.”
-
“When will I get to go night-hunting?”
“You go night-hunting all the time,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. “You’re a fraction my age, and already my height, my weight, yet you wield a saber like my brother was around to raise you properly. You’re ruining my reputation, you know; now no one will believe that my incompetence comes from how short I am…”
“Not night-hunting with the rest of the sect, er-ge,” Nie Songsong said, rolling his eyes. “With other juniors!”
“Not long now,” Nie Huaisang said, looking down at the paper beneath his hands. It was all finally coming together. “Not long now. Just give er-ge a little more time to finish taking care of matters for da-ge, and you’ll be able to go night-hunting with anyone you like.”
-
“Er-ge! Are you all right? You look so pale…”
“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang whispered. “Songsong – I’m sorry. I’m so sorry –”
“What happened? Are you injured?” Nie Songsong demanded, already starting to pat him over, looking for wounds. “Er-ge, what’s wrong –”
“Your mother’s dead.”
Nie Songsong’s hands stilled.
“I told her about your heritage,” Nie Huaisang said, his lips numb. He’d never tried to hide it from Nie Songsong, although he’d introduced the subject very gradually and only once he thought that he’d be able to handle the revelation. “About your father – your grandfather. What they did. I wanted her to be angry at him, to turn against him, to distract him…instead, she killed herself.”
“Er-ge…”
“I shouldn’t have told her. If I knew –”
“Er-ge.”
“I should have brought her in earlier – told her about you surviving – I kept her from you for years –”
“Er-ge!”
Nie Huaisang looked at the child he had raised as a little brother the way his older brother had raised him, a father in everything but name, and who he had the constant feeling of having failed.
He wondered, as he always did, whether his brother had felt the same about him.
“Er-ge, it’s all right,” his little brother, his adopted son, said, and took his hands in his. “It’s all right. You tried, remember? Time after time, you tried to talk to her, but every single time you concluded that she would’ve told her husband instead of trusting you. She would’ve ruined everything. If she did that, I’d be dead all over again, and you with me.”
That had been what Nie Huaisang had concluded. That was why he’d never told her.
But…
“She’s your mother.”
“And you’re my er-ge. As long as you don’t die on me, too, it’ll be all right. Okay? It’ll be all right. It’ll be worth it in the end.”
Nie Huaisang shook his head. He’d already done so much, caused so much chaos and strife, and yet this moment – this was the step too far.
This was the first time he realized that he wasn’t sure he believed that it would be worth it anymore.
But by now…what else was left to do? There were no ways out of the plan he’d made himself; he’d designed it that way on purpose, because he’d known that if there was a way out, that snake would find a way to slither through it. He just hadn’t thought that he would be the one looking for it.
It didn’t matter.
He had to keep going.
His older brother deserved it, even if the younger one didn’t.
-
“I represent the Nie sect,” the young man – just about their age, though shorter than either of them – said with a smile. He seemed kind, gentle and polite, easy-going, but Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui looked at each other, and then at Jin Ling, who just scowled. “Can I come in?”
“Were you even invited?” Jin Ling asked in bitten off words. He was still bitter about some of the things that had happened in the Guayin Temple a month before, and of all them the one he was most bitter about was his second uncle’s retreat into seclusion – they were all upset about that.
“But it’s a discussion conference,” the young man said, blinking in confusion. “We’re a Great Sect. Why wouldn’t we be invited?”
In the face of such profound ignorance, there really wasn’t very much they could say, and eventually Lan Sizhui stepped forward with a smile, welcoming the young man – Nie Songsong, he introduced himself – into the Cloud Recesses.
Everything seemed fine for a little while. Lan Sizhui was able to talk to the people in charge of arranging juniors into finding another place for Nie Songsong to stay, although it would be a little delayed – Nie Songsong assured them that there was no issue – and as recompense they even showed him, at his request, a few of the main landmarks.
And then they turned around and their guest had disappeared.
“I knew he was up to no good!” Jin Ling exclaimed.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Lan Sizhui told him.
“I’m with Jin Ling,” Lan Jingyi said. “He seemed so nice and understated – just like you know –”
“Don’t talk about my little uncle,” Jin Ling hissed at him. “I know it’s true, but just – don’t, okay?”
“We should find where he went,” Lan Sizhui decided.
It took them a while, but in the end they found him in the most unexpected place: in the rooms their sect leader had chosen for his seclusion, sitting on the bed with Lan Xichen’s head on his shoulder, sobbing as if his heart had been broken.
“What are you doing?” Lan Sizhui exclaimed, unnerved even out of his own habitual politeness.
“I came to greet my uncle,” Nie Songsong said, his manner just as gentle and polite as it had been from the beginning, although it was now evident that he was as stubborn as a rock and not easy-going at all.
“Your uncle?” Lan Jingyi gaped. “How can he be your uncle?”
“You’re Sect Leader Nie’s son!” Jin Ling accused.
“I’m Sect Leader Nie’s little brother by adoption,” Nie Songsong corrected. “It’s through my father that he’s my uncle – and you my cousin, I suppose.”
“Your – father?”
“Oh, yes. My birth name, you see,” Nie Songsong said, “was Jin Rusong.”
-
“Why did you choose to reveal yourself?” Lan Sizhui asked. “Given that everyone knows – well –”
Nie Songsong finished the character he was writing and put down his brush. “Wondering if you should let it be known that you were born with the surname Wen?”
Lan Sizhui jerked in surprise, then flushed. “How did you – that didn’t come out in Guanyin Temple.”
“No, I knew it before,” Nie Songsong said. “My er-ge is very clever, you know.”
“Yes, I suppose I do...why do you call him brother? Shouldn’t he be uncle, or – or –”
“Uncle is probably right,” Nie Songsong said. “But he raised me like a son, just as his brother did for him.”
Lan Sizhui looked down at his hands.
“Why did he publicly reveal your background, knowing that you were still around?” he asked again. “Everyone will know. Who your father was, all those terrible things he did, his relationship with your mother –”
“Why shouldn’t he? He did do all those things, and he did have that relationship with my mother.”
“But what about you? What about your reputation –”
“Are you planning on sweeping Wen Ruohan’s grave?”
Lan Sizhui stared at him.
“He’s your grandfather, isn’t he?” Nie Songsong looked calmly back at him. “Who he was, all those terrible things he did –”
“That’s nothing to do with me!”
“And the crimes of my father are nothing to do with me. My er-ge gave me his surname, just as Hanguang-jun gave you his, and for the same reason – to cut us off from the sins of our original family.”
“I suppose that’s true. But – no one knew about you, just as no one knew about me until I told them, and I only told them because they were my friends. Why’d you tell us? Aren’t you worried we’d tell more people?”
“Of course I am,” Nie Songsong said. “I hope you don’t, of course, but you would’ve found out regardless – second uncle wasn’t exactly subtle in his grief. And I had to tell him.”
“Why? To bring him out of seclusion?” Lan Sizhui hesitated. “Do you care so much for him?”
“Of course not. The last time I met him, I was a small child, and my father was just about to order me murdered; that’s not much of a basis to build a relationship. But having him lock himself away like that, as if he were in mourning…it hurt er-ge. And I won’t let anything hurt my er-ge. Anything, or anyone.”
They looked at each other for a long moment.
“I understand,” Lan Sizhui said.
“I’m glad you do,” Nie Songsong said, and then smiled. “I would’ve had to escalate to threats next, and I’m given to understand that I’m too short to really pull them off properly.”
Lan Sizhui snorted. “I think we’ve all learned that that’snot true.”
-
“Should we talk about this?” Jin Ling asked, arms crossed over his chest and glaring.
“What do you want to talk about?” Nie Songsong replied.
“How about the fact that your father tried to kill me?”
“Sure. Can we talk about the fact that you got all of his affection for years and years after he tried to kill me?”
Jin Ling blanched.
“I wonder if he would’ve gotten me a dog, too,” Nie Songsong mused. “I was too young for that when he ordered his demonic cultivator to feed me to fierce corpses and have my body ravaged until it was barely recognizable…but sure, let’s talk about how he tried to kill you.”
“I was talking about Sect Leader Nie!”
“Well, then, you should have been more specific. Sect Leader Nie’s my brother, not my father.”
“He’s a whole generation older than you!”
“My little uncle, then.”
Jin Ling flinched. “That’s worse. Go back to calling him your brother.”
Nie Songsong shrugged. “Would it help if we fought?”
“…what?”
“It makes me feel better, sometimes. Besides, I may be short, but I’m pretty good with the saber. I bet I could match your sword…maybe not your arrows. But I’ve always wanted to try.”
Jin Ling looked at him suspiciously for a long moment.
“Okay,” he finally said. “Sure. Why not?”
-
“I really hate that you’re kind of cool,” Lan Jingyi told him.
“I am so cool,” Nie Songsong said, and passed him another jar of wine. “Want to see my spring book collection?”
“…yes please.”
-
“Thank you for taking care of him,” Lan Xichen said to Nie Huaisang, who shrugged. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t trust me to help.”
“It’s only what I should have done,” Nie Huaisang said, not for the first time. He’d said it so often these past few days that it felt like a new refrain, an alternative to the old I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. He preferred the original. “I was his little uncle, remember? I held him on his first month party. How could I do any less?”
He did not say that Lan Xichen, who could be classified as Jin Rusong’s older uncle, had done much less, but from Lan Xichen’s expression, he’d taken it that way anyway.
“You never…” Lan Xichen hesitated. “Did you ever have any – concerns?”
“That he’d turn out an idiot? No. I figured he’d be in good company, with me.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Oh, you meant whether I was worried that he’d grow up longing for his blood family over his adopted family and turn against me in favor of his real father?” Nie Huaisang asked mildly. “No, not really. The memory of your father ordering you to be mauled by fierce corpses and to make sure your face is destroyed so that there’s a reason to refuse to let your mother see the body, as it would only upset her, is a fairly effective panacea against things like that.”
“No,” Lan Xichen said, though he looked sick all over again at the reminder of how considerate Jin Guangyao could be when it came to those he thought of as people, and how monstrous he was towards those he didn’t. “No, just – your brother always took such a hard line against the Wen sect…”
“Because they were raised with the philosophy that they were superior to the rest of us and my brother purposefully made himself into the symbol of their fallibility, thereby making himself and all the rest of us the primary target for their traumatic realization that they’re just as weak and vulnerable as everyone else,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “Our Nie sect cultivators were always especially targeted whenever we were captured – our survival rate as prisoners of war was less than half all the other sects, and it wasn’t just because we were usually more injured when we got caught. Even the civilians surnamed Wen would pull out knives and try to stab us in the back if they had half a chance! We were in a blood feud with them, er-ge. You don’t put down blood feuds just like that, not even if you want to. That’s not how it works.”
Lan Xichen nodded slowly, thoughtful.
“Anyway, Songsong is mine now,” Nie Huaisang said. “Just as Lan Sizhui is your brother’s, and Jin Ling Jiang Cheng’s. Can’t we all just agree to not care about the rest?”
“I suppose we have to,” Lan Xichen said, bowing his head. “Huaisang…did you ever think about what happens now? I mean – what should we do next?”
“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang said, and smiled humorlessly when Lan Xichen looked at him. “I’m not joking. I didn’t know what to do when I got Songsong for the first time, er-ge, and I don’t know what to do now, either. I just wanted to see justice done for my da-ge, and I did, and for the rest – I don’t know.”
“That’s fine,” Lan Xichen said. “I don’t know, either.”
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Nie Huaisang thought. Spine as steel as your saber.
“Would you like to come visit the Unclean Realm sometime?” he asked, pretending to be casual. “Perhaps we can figure out what we don’t know together. If you like.”
“…perhaps I will,” Lan Xichen said.
#mdzs#nie huaisang#xue yang#lan xichen#jin rusong#jin ling#lan sizhui#lan jingyi#my fic#my fics#nothing ventured nothing gained
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48 from dialogue prompts + 50 from wordless i-love-yous for geraskier?
Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping
--
It catches Geralt’s eye while he haggles over an outrageously priced jar of alchemy paste with a none-too-impressed herbalist on the outskirts of Novigrad, a buxom widow with thick-braided auburn hair by the name of Irmina.
“This for sale too?” He picks up the brooch from the countertop where it rests in a beam of golden light streaming through a dingy window. He examines it. It’s simple enough metalwork, a brass oval with a scalloped edge, but inlaid in its face is a single pressed yellow flower framed by tiny white blooms encased in resin.
The herbalist’s dour demeanour brightens immediately. “It is indeed!” she answers, her brown eyes shining in a plump, suddenly pleasant face. “Made it myself just last week. It’s something of a hobby of mine, making pretty knick-knacks from the flowers we can’t sell. Got plenty more like this if you’d like to peruse ‘em, master witcher! Forget-me-nots and arenaria, hellebore, violets, any flower you might like.”
A buttercup, he realizes belatedly. That’s the yellow flower in the center.
“No.” He sees Irmina’s brow furrow in offense, so he hastens to appease her. “No need, I’ll take this one. I...I’m partial to buttercups.”
Her freckled face breaks into a sly, knowing smile. “Oh, aye, I’m sure someone is partial to buttercups.” She winks, waving away his stammered attempts at an answer. “Never you mind, I know a man besotted when I see one, and it seems a witcher’s not so different. Tell you what. Fifty crowns for the paste and I’ll throw the brooch in for only ten.”
-
Leaving the herbalist’s shop with an overpriced paste, a lighter purse, and a useless trinket, Geralt curses himself for a fool.
He’s not sure why he bought it.
He knows buttercups are Jaskier’s favorite, of course. “None but the noblest of flowers for my sobriquet!” Jaskier had squawked indignantly when Geralt once made the grave mistake of referring to the pesky things as weeds after he’d stopped Roach from chomping on a patch of the bright, poisonous blooms.
They are weeds, buttercups. They serve no function. They can’t be used in any of the potions, decoctions, or oils Geralt brews, nor do they have any particularly helpful curative properties for humans.
“As ever, my dear witcher, you have no sense of poetry,” Jaskier had sighed in a most put-upon voice when told as much. “Their function is they’re pretty. Their function is to enrich our lives through the beauty of the natural world.” He’d looked to the sky, tip of his tongue between his teeth showing through his frown as was his custom when puzzling through the right way to turn a phrase. “From a strictly utilitarian perspective, perhaps the buttercup has less value than, say, moleyarrow, or verbena, or chamomile, even. Some plants provide nutritional or medicinal or alchemical qualities of various sorts. But some exist to make life worth living! To transform the banal into the sublime.” He’d plucked a buttercup from the roadside, twirling it between his long fingers. “It’s graceful and balanced, effortlessly beautiful. It’s vibrant, bright like...like sunlight, on a summer afternoon! And when you see it growing alongside the various and sundry flora, it fills you with the loveliest burst of warmth, like a lover’s smile.”
“So...it’s a pretty weed.”
“You’re incorrigible, witcher, that’s what you are.” Jaskier had huffed dramatically before tucking the buttercup behind Geralt’s ear, his face alight with a delighted grin.
Like sunlight on a summer afternoon.
-
The Kingfisher Inn is crowded when Geralt arrives. He goes to the bar, orders an ale from Olivier, and leans against the counter to take a look at the stage.
Jaskier loves playing the Kingfisher. In many of the inns he plays across the Continent, he’s relegated to a corner to try to sing over the clang of dinner, his only option to win the common folk over a raucous drinking song or a filthy ditty. And while the bard doesn’t shy away from such vulgarities, the patrons of the Kingfisher tend to be of a more artistically inclined ilk, responding with appropriate gusto to the virtuosic art songs that he rarely performs outside of competitions or Oxenfurt.
Or so he’d explained to Geralt when he’d suggested they meet up at the inn.
Jaskier sits atop a tall stool on a rather large stage framed by crimson curtains, his sky-blue doublet a vivid contrast. The audience, enraptured, listens to his ballad, a melancholy tale of a fair maiden who’s violently killed before she can profess her love to a farmhand in her village, a beautiful, strong, kind man whose hair shines like a blaze of pale fire in the sunlight. Her love for him tethers her to this world, and her spirit—bitter, weary, and endlessly yearning—calls the men working in the fields to join her dance at midday, when the sun is in its zenith, hoping against hope for the chance to finally confess to her beloved.
In the end, the brave, noble farmhand sacrifices himself, hoping to stop the spirit’s killings by listening to her song and joining her as she beckons. And as they are reunited, as she finally kisses the lips she’s longed for in a blinding blaze of sunlight, they pass on together, their spirits becoming one.
It’s a contract Geralt worked a few years ago, a noonwraith outside Oreton—or at least something close. As ever, Jaskier has taken artistic liberties, romanticized the actual events (“Sometimes, in our pursuit of Truth, we must sacrifice the facts,” Jaskier loftily explained on more than one occasion. He seemed quite taken with the profundity he seemed to find in the statement. Geralt called it pretentious once and Jaskier hurled a chunk of bread at his head). Once it might have bothered Geralt, but he’s grown accustomed to Jaskier’s rather malleable relationship with veracity in his ballads. There’s no denying the impact of his storytelling: when Geralt glances around the inn, he sees several patrons discreetly dabbing at their eyes.
It’d been an ugly case, leaving him feeling empty, drained. Noonwraiths haunt his thoughts far longer than most the monsters he dispatches. They’re victims of circumstance more than anything, young women who’ve been transformed into bloodthirsty, violent spirits through no fault of their own, through the violence inflicted upon them. Nearly forty men had fallen prey to her before the farmhand distracted her with his kiss—though Geralt would hesitate to classify his grotesque, gruesome sacrifice as such—so the witcher had a chance to strike her down with silver. Jaskier has spun the miserable tale into something beautiful, moving, something that clearly resonates with his captivated audience, that speaks to a greater force at work than the chaotic, banal evils the witcher sees every day, and Geralt thinks he understands, for a moment, what the bard had told him of Truth and facts.
(Geralt doesn’t know what greater Truth is served by changing the beloved farmhand’s hair from the dull brown it really was to “a blaze of pale fire,” but then, Geralt’s not a poet.)
The final notes hang in the air, all eyes fixed on Jaskier for a rapt, breathless moment before the room bursts into wild applause. Jaskier stands and bows deeply, once, twice, a third time, surveying the room as he offers his thanks. When his gaze catches Geralt at the bar, his expression of showman’s grace vanishes, a flash of something that looks almost alarmed for a split second before it’s replaced by a small, gentle smile.
Geralt nods and raises his mug toward the stage in cheers, draining the remainder. Jaskier is quickly swept into the swarm of captivated fans, accepting their praises with a gracious, if distracted, smile.
The witcher turns back to the barkeep to order himself another ale along with a glass of wine.
“Geralt!” Jaskier swerves to avoid a near-collision with a frenzied barmaid on his way to join his companion at the bar. He grabs the wine glass with a groan of appreciation, taking a swig before asking, “Is this for me? Gods, but you’re a marvel, darling, I thank you.” He takes another sip and sends a disarming, roguish wink to a pair of girls staring at him and giggling to each other. “I wasn’t sure when you’d arrive, but it wouldn’t have mattered, I suppose, they only had one room to let when I checked in and it hasn’t cleared out since. You’ll share mine, of course, but I’ve been here a week so, you know, best brace yourself, I’ve quite made the place my own.”
Geralt snorts. He’s stayed in enough rooms that Jaskier has made his own over the past decade to predict with some certainty what mess he’ll soon venture into.
(Doublets draped over furniture after they’ve been discarded; crumpled sheets of paper tossed near, never in the fireplace; a few near-empty bottles of wine; a shirt hung to dry over the modesty screen between the sleeping and bathing areas; bottles of a dozen oils and perfumes and soaps scattered haphazard near the tub; an unmade bed that may well contain an abandoned undergarment or forgotten stocking left by some well-satisfied guest.)
“Have you eaten? Shall we? I’m starved, felt jittery all afternoon and didn’t eat a damned thing which was all well and good until I got onstage and suddenly wished for a fainting couch. Or we could take your things up to the room first, of course. Oh! We could have them bring our dinner up to us, it’s awfully crowded down here tonight and I’m not sure I’m up to socializing all evening, to be honest, I’ve been dreadfully out of sorts, did you notice, Geralt, that I’ve…”
Jaskier continues his ramblings, and the witcher can’t help a twinge of worry for his friend. It’s not unheard of for Jaskier to be in a heightened state over a particularly important performance, but usually afterwards the nerves dissipate and he seems more himself. Not to mention, why would playing in an inn prompt such anxieties? Even if the Kingfisher clientele trends toward the more refined than the country folk he often plays for, it’s still rather a low-stakes environment to trigger such stress.
“New song?” he asks casually. Jaskier always beams when he notices such things, when he makes an effort to ask about his music.
Instead, Jaskier blushes, looking away with an expression that almost seems guilty. “Ah, yes, well, I wasn’t certain when you’d be arriving, of course, I thought I might try out something different, a sort of test audience, as it were, to feel out the piece before I use it for anything important.” The look he’s fixed on Geralt seems almost wary. “Did you...like the song?”
Geralt shrugs. “Not quite how it happened,” he grumbles, out of habit more than anything.
A smile, genuine and rueful, breaks out on Jaskier’s face. “Gods, I’ve missed you, my friend,” he says, shaking his head and looking away quickly.
“Hmm.” He reaches quickly into the coin pouch at his side, thrusting the trinket from the herbalist into Jaskier’s hand with a brusque, “Here.”
“Whatever have we got…” He cuts off as opens his palm. “Oh.”
There have been so few times over the years that Geralt has seen Jaskier speechless that he begins to worry he’s offended him. He turns the brooch over in his hands, once, twice, his thumb swiping gently over its smooth enamel face. He doesn’t look up.
Even in the crowded room, Geralt can smell the shift in his demeanor, the muted sickly-sweet anxious smell becoming something sharp, metallic, pained, like he’s been stabbed. “You’re upset.”
“I...no.” Jaskier shoves the brooch into his trouser pocket, a tense smile on his face, not at all reaching his eyes. “Thank you, Geralt, it’s lovely. Shall we take your bags to the room now?”
“I didn’t...I didn’t get it to upset you.”
Jaskier laughs, a broken thing, and Geralt grows even more alarmed. “You didn’t, it isn’t that, sometimes I want things I can’t have is all.” He grabs the saddlebag sitting at Geralt’s feet, not meeting his eyes as he rushes past him up the stairs to the last bedroom in the hall.
Geralt follows after a moment, giving his companion a respectful distance. There’s a tightness in his shoulders, a knot in his gut that only grows as he watches Jaskier’s hand tremble on the key as he unlocks the door.
It was a stupid idea. He knew it was stupid when he bought it, yet he bought it anyway, somehow ruined everything anyway.
“Here we are.” Jaskier’s voice is filled with a forced cheer as he sets the bag down, hand never leaving the doorknob. “I’ll go fetch us some supper. Or, actually, you know, now that I think of it, I’ve a few errands to run before it gets too late, meant to do it earlier but you know how it goes, lost track of time…”
“Jaskier.” Geralt moves toward him but stops himself, helpless. “Please. I’m sorry I upset you.”
Jaskier stands in the doorway for another moment. He takes a deep breath, closes the door, and walks slowly to the writing desk in the corner. He pulls the chair out, moving the doublet strewn across it before sitting. He doesn’t look at Geralt.
“You didn’t.” Every word is calculated, deliberate. “What kind of ungrateful wretch gets upset over...over an exceptionally thoughtful gift from a friend after a time apart?”
Geralt sits on the edge of the bed. His elbows rest on his knees, fingers locking together as he stares at the floor. “You’re not a wretch. The fault is mine.”
“Dammit, Geralt, there isn’t fault, I only—why did you bring me a gift?”
Geralt frowns. “I’ve bought you things before,” he says slowly.
“Things, yes!” Jaskier vaults from the chair, pacing listlessly about the room, no longer trying to mask his inexplicable distress. “Lute strings when I broke a string and I was low on coin. The lute is my livelihood, it made financial sense for you to replace the string so I could pull my own weight, help you when we pass through several towns in a row with no contracts. Boots when you noticed the hole in the heel of my old pair, because I slow you down limping about in footwear that’s falling apart. Room and board, sometimes, because you know I’m good for it, I’ll cover you the next time.” He’s stopped pacing, stares silent into the fireplace.
“Wasn’t keeping a tab.” Geralt’s voice is quiet. “You needed strings and boots and food and a room.”
Jaskier doesn’t turn to face him, but Geralt sees his hand slip into his pocket, pull out the brooch. His head bends, studying it.
He’s not offended or annoyed or angered by the gift. He’s hurt. But why?
Except...
Jaskier looked guilty when Geralt brought up the song. Like he’d been caught red-handed. Did you like it? he’d asked. Incredulous.
The noonwraith singing her song in hopes that her beloved hears her confession. That he’ll hear her song of longing and come to her.
Hair like a blaze of pale fire, not dull brown.
Sometimes I want things I can’t have.
“Geralt?”
The witcher snaps back to attention, eyes fixed on Jaskier, finally facing him.
“Why did you get it for me, Geralt?”
Geralt frowns. “It’s...pretty,” he starts lamely. “I thought you might wear it when you play. You wear gaudy things.”
Jaskier snorts, a small, crooked grin on his lips.
“It made me think of you,” he confesses quietly, his eyes tracing the wood grain of the floor. “Sometimes...things don’t have to have a function. It was a buttercup and it was pretty and it…made me think of you.”
When Geralt dares to raise his eyes, Jaskier’s staring at him, brows drawn together and mouth slightly agape. After a moment, he walks toward the witcher, sitting carefully beside him on the bed. He reaches his hand towards Geralt’s and presses the little brooch into his palm.
“Will you pin it on me?” he asks softly.
Geralt nods.
His fingers feel thick and clumsy as he fumbles with the delicate clasp. The top few buttons of Jaskier’s doublet, as ever, are undone, but it closes neatly just beneath his exposed neck. Geralt slips a finger beneath the satin fabric to pull it away from his throat, cautiously piercing the fabric with the thin pin and sliding it into its slot, locking the clasp with shaking hands.
His hand doesn’t move from Jaskier’s chest. A sword-calloused thumb, seemingly of its own volition, grazes lightly over the bobbing Adam’s apple.
“Geralt.”
He looks up, almost pulls away but for the flushed cheeks, the tongue that darts out to wet pink lips, the hooded eyes beneath dark lashes fixed on Geralt’s mouth. Jaskier’s breath is warm against his face. When did they draw so close?
“Are you going to kiss me, Geralt?” The breathy whisper is laced with wonder.
And he didn’t...didn’t buy the brooch to entice Jaskier into anything, didn’t mean to solicit any sort of reward, and he opens his mouth to tell him so, yet as his rough hand moves to gently cup the back of Jaskier’s neck the words that tumble out instead are, “I’d like to.”
And Jaskier throws back his head and laughs, a euphoric, intoxicated sound, as his lovely hands cradle Geralt’s face. He brings his forehead to rest against Geralt’s as they still, breathing each other for a moment before Jaskier surges forward to capture his lips.
His kiss tastes like sunlight.
#geraskier#geralt x jaskier#the witcher fic#the witcher#my fic#anon asks#prompt fill#thank you so much for this absolutely lovely prompt!!!!! i'm so sorry it took me months to actually filling it!!!
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Quick Fix
Pietro Maximoff x reader
Summary: When you get hurt, Pietro won't waste any time getting you to safety
Warnings: broken glass, killer robot, you know how it goes
A/n: hi!! I wrote this in 2018 but just fixed it a little. If you’re wondering wtf I’m doing, please read this update :)
main masterlist ~ marvel masterlist
(not my gif)
You’d chosen the wrong floor to search. Two of the now-deadly machines were in your path, both dead set on your demise.
Fortunately, you’d been able to kill one of them by shooting it several times through it's chest plates with your gun until it's gears stopped turning. Unfortunately for you, that meant you didn’t have enough bullets to kill the remaining death machine.
Your gun ceased its fire, void of any bullets. As a last resort, you chucked it at the robot. It faltered just slightly, giving you an opportunity to run. It flew behind you as you sped through the compound. You pushed carts down and slammed doors behind you, doing everything possible in a panicked effort to slow the machine down. Your efforts were in vain, however. Where the hell is everyone?!
You’d hit a dead end. There was no choice but to stop when you reached the side of the building. Backing up as far as you could against the wall, you tip toed across the tile floor of an old office building. Much to your disliking, every step you took made a slight sound as you moved.
When the machine finally made its way in to the room you were in, you crouched behind a desk, desperate to hide yourself from certain death. With no radio communication device or a weapon, you were defenseless. Your only real hope was sneaking away.
It must have discovered your position, because the next thing you knew, gunshots were littering the floor around you along with the desk in front of you. You were cornered in. Cursing at yourself, you desperately looked around for something you could use to avoid certain-death. A few shards of broken glass brought your attention to an office window just a short ways behind you. You'd come up with an idea, which was almost guaranteed to not work. Unfortunately, it was your only choice and chance, so you really needed it to.
In one swift move you shoved the desk forward, smacking it into the robot and pushing it back a foot or so. You used the brief pause of gunfire as your opportunity to hurdle out of the window.
You were glad you'd only been on the second floor. The fall to the ground was not pleasant, but it was more pleasant than whatever was waiting for you back in that room.
You hit the sidewalk ground harder than you'd expected, and let out a strangled cry. Your leg had been twisted uncomfortably underneath you, and you were almost certain your ankle was broken. Small cuts from landing in glass shards littered your forearms and legs, but you didn't feel any serious glass-related injuries. That may have just been the adrenaline coursing through your veins, however. Of course, the robot had followed you out the window. It landed perfectly only a few feet away, immediately stomping in your direction.
You did your best to pull yourself away from it, wincing at the pain blooming in your leg. In a last desperate attempt, you threw rocks and chunks of glass it’s way, but nothing phased the machine. It continued until it was towering over you, menacingly raising its metallic hand above you. A bright white light began to form, and you tried to brace yourself for what was to come. You felt the heat from the light grow warmer against your skin. Just before the machine was able to end your short-lived life, the white light turned to blue, then faded to nothing. The robot shattered into multiple pieces and crumbled by your side.
Your eyes were instantly met with a tired pair of blue eyes, attached to a panting being above you.
"Good timing." You almost laughed. Pietro wiped a few metal shards from his hair before reaching to pull you up. A pained cry escaped your lips, despite your attempts to hold it back. The pain was too much to stand, and you had to let Pietro’s hand go, ending up back in the shards.
“Where are you hurt?” Pietro dropped to his knees beside you, wiping bits of glass away from the small cuts they created.
His fingers danced across your body, checking for any major injuries.
“My ankle,” You winced, “I think it’s broken.”
He nodded, carefully sliding his hands under your thighs and back.
He began to lift you, but you stopped him. He needed to make sure the others were safe first, you'd be alright sitting there until he came back. Someone else could be in the situation you were just in, and they would surely need help.
“I have to get you out of here.” Pietro explained with a frown. His hands hovered above your leg for a brief moment before he decided against touching it. He hoisted you up, nearly wincing himself at the wince you let out.
“I’ll be fine here, Piet. Leave me here."
“No.”
The next thing you knew you were far from the office, slightly dizzy from the sudden movement. The team had assigned the meeting point to be near an old hot dog cart a few blocks down for the return. Pietro set your achy body down on the concrete behind the cart for protection and sent you a warm smile before disappearing, only leaving a blue streak in his tracks.
Only a moment later he returned, quickly cupping the sides of your face and pressing his lips to yours before zooming off again. You laughed at him, moving to pick out the remaining shards of glass in your skin.
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