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is-emily-real · 2 years ago

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in your head (zombie)

Eddie sat in the chair across the room and watched the figure curled on the floor. It was all he could do. Sobs erupted from the shaking mass, hands tugging at soft brown hair as Vecna inflicted his torture.

Raspy laughter sent a chill down his spine. “Not going to hold him? Not going to tell him it’s not real, that you’ll banish the bad dreams?”

He couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t, and that in and of itself was his own torture to bear. He wasn’t in Steve’s plane of existence anymore, hadn’t been for, God, forever now. He stopped fighting it, choosing instead to sit and listen to his heart shatter.

“I think it’d be good for you,” Vecna whispered. “You should see what he’s seeing.”

His stomach twisted. “Please,” he whispered breathlessly. “I don’t want to. Please.” But he knew it was no use.

Red lightning flashed around him, and then he was there with Steve. Dustin’s mangled body laid before them, pale and unmoving, but still his voice sounded. “You weren’t there,” the boy spat, full of venom. “You weren’t the hero. I should have known you were too selfish to save me.”

Robin and Nancy chimed in next. “You let us die. You let him kill us.”

“I didn’t want to.” Steve choked on the words. “I wanted you to be safe.”

“You made us fight Vecna alone,” more voices taunted. “You made us lose.”

“No! No,” he sobbed. “I didn't, I couldn't…”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Eddie sprung to his feet and grasped him by the shoulders. “Steve, Stevie, listen. Listen to me.”

The boy looked around frantically. “Eddie?”

“This isn’t real. They’re all alive, they’re safe. He’s just fucking with you, man.”

“Eddie, where are you?” he whimpered.

Tears pricked his eyes. “I’m right here, baby. Just look, I’m right here. I’m always here.” He waved his hand in front of Steve’s face, but there was no recognition in his eyes, no indication that he could see him. He cupped the other man’s cheeks. “Come on, sweetheart, snap out of it. Fight him.”

Vecna’s laughter echoed like they were in a fishbowl. “I already won.”

“You know that’s not true,” he continued to whisper to Steve. “He’s weak. He doesn't have the strength to hurt anyone. All you have to do is fight it. You’re stronger than him, Stevie. He can’t break you.”

The boy took a deep breath as he straightened his spine. “Dustin is alive. Robin and Nancy are alive. The kids are safe.” He repeated it like a chant, letting the vision fade away until they sat back on the floor of his bedroom.

“There you go, big boy.” They sat quietly as Steve got his bearings.

Finally, the boy stood, moving through Eddie. He left a searing cold in his wake. The walkie on the nightstand crackled. “Check in.”

“Max, Lucas, Erica, safe.”

“Wheeler house, safe.”

“Byers and Argyle, safe.”

“Hopper, safe.”

Steve picked up the walkie. “Robin and Steve, safe.”

“Dustin, safe. Check in concluded.” It was their ritual, how they started and ended their days after their last romp through the Upside Down. Eddie tried to mess with the lingering static. Dot, dash dot dot. Dot, dash dot dot. Ed, Ed, Ed, over and over and over.

It never went through.

His laugh was humorless. Every fucking day. Every single fucking day. This was hell in all its unadulterated glory. Fuck, he was so close to the life he’d let himself dream of once upon a time. He spent every second with the person he’d loved from afar, and all that time only drew him in in the most bitter way.

Steve crawled into bed as he commiserated. He hated the Harrington house. The emptiness swallowed any joy that dared venture in these walls. He could feel the cold reverberating as Vecna consumed the last vestiges of Eddie’s sanity.

Not that he needed it, of course, but it’s always good to hold onto something in a psycho-nightmare universe.

Two soft raps on the door caught their attention. Robin let herself in, joining Steve under the covers and pulling him close. He wrapped his arms around her, and a pang shot through Eddie’s chest. All this time, and he still got jealous.

“It’s bad today,” she commented idly.

“It’s always bad,” Steve mumbled. “I don’t think I can take much more.”

“I know.”

The silence hung over the room, taut as a bowstring. It taunted Eddie.

Why wasn’t she doing anything? Why wouldn’t she say anything, anything, something that would help him hold on? He wanted to push her away, to cradle Steve and whisper sweet thoughts of a peaceful future.

It was a future they could never have, and Eddie knew it damn well. It didn’t stop it from hurting, though.

He scuffed his shoe against the floor and muttered, “Son of a bitch.”

Steve shot up from Robin’s arms, snapping his head to and fro. “He’s here,” he said frantically as he scrambled out of the bed. “I heard him, Rob, Eddie’s here.”

“Steve?” he whispered, incredulous. “Steve, you can hear me!”

“Eddie!” His heart fractured a little more as Steve threw open the closet and began ripping down the clothes.

“Steve, stop. He’s not here.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped to Robin. She had this pained look on her face that he tried to decipher as she continued. “He was dead before we got there. We couldn’t get him out. You know that.”

“He’s gotta be here. He has to be alive, Robin. Vecna’s messing with us. He’s alive.”

He figured out her expression. It’s all in your head. He’d seen it on so many other faces, but never on Buckley the Believer.

How fucking dare she look at him like that. How dare she give up on him like so many others, imply that he was going crazy when she knew. She knew what he had been through. She knew what Vecna was capable of, and she had the goddamn gall to look at Steve like he was finally losing it.

The fury boiled in Eddie’s chest until all he could do was scream.

She flinched, eyes wide as she scanned the room. “Steve, I think you’re right.”

#steddie #i think steve would vibe incredibly hard with Zombie by The Cranberries #will there be a part 2?#maybe yes but probably no

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moonlit-imagines · 2 years ago

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The Falcon

Bruce Wayne x teen!reader

warnings:

a/n: ik this took forever but i fell IN LOVE with this song and it really did remind me so much of like, the court of owls and it just fit together so perfectly. literally been listening to this song nonstop. so good.

prompt: @qrow-shroomlight: “Hi!! I would like to make a request for the music event, can I request a blurb with the song "The Falcon" by Mimi and Richard Farina with Robert Pattinson's Batman and a child reader (like a parental relationship)? I was think the reader was an assassin but it can be up to you! Thanks!”

Ever since you could remember, you were a pawn to the Court of Owls. Well, you’d be more accurately described as a knight. You weren’t like their other soldiers, you were trained to be more. You weren’t an Owl, and maybe that’s what truly set you apart from them.

You were the Falcon. Perfect, pretty, and prized. Flaunted as the most efficient weapon there may be. You weren’t meant to be hidden within the Court, for everyone gawked at you at meetings and parties as you observed behind your unique mask.

A trained spy and killer, an assassin who answers to their masters without question. And if you were to have one, you shouldn’t expect a good answer. But you were good at what you did, it was all you ever knew. You were taken care of. But it was all you’ve ever known…

Now you sat across from the Batman, who gave you the answers you sought out in exchange for his life, although he was certainly a formidable opponent, you started having your own doubts of your capabilities when you faced off with him, before a draw was called for this.

“You…you shouldn’t be associating with them. The Court isn’t looking out for your best interests.” The Batman explained to you like you were a child, knowing full-well that you were much too mature for a tone like that.

“They are all I know. I may not know much, but I know when someone is speaking to me like I’m stupid.” You countered, growing increasingly agitated, but there was a fizzle of sorrow in the back of your throat. “I have always done as I’m told, it’s why they hold me to such a high standard.”

“Then why are you talking it out with your target?” Batman questioned. He could see your eyes from behind the mask just shimmer a bit as tears fought to spill, but you still had some control over said emotions. “You have lived in a cage your entire life, depending on monsters to keep you fed as long as you do their bidding, no matter how gruesome or immoral.”

“I don’t have morals, that’s what made me their top agent.” You snapped back, aching to just cave and agree with him, but it’d go against everything you’ve ever been taught. You looked through this narrow lens all of your short life, right and wrong being dictated by people hiding behind owl masks, feeling superior to all of Gotham, instilling their will no matter who it affects and how.

“You are a child. Not a Falcon. You have been robbed of a lifetime of education and experience that should have given you morals, taught you about the world.” Batman himself started to feel personally about the subject. “No child should have to see death, to look it in the eye.”

“I can’t erase what happened to me. I can’t start a normal life. This is what I’m good at and I’ll do it until I die.” You pushed against him in such a way that he knew you were doing it on purpose. The two of you stared at each other behind the obscure masks you donned. No words were spoken, no breaths were drawn, you just stared. Two dangerous, dark figures that found a story behind each others eyes. And then you sighed, removing your beaked mask and setting it before you, then pulling down your hood. “What do I do?”

“You have options. They’ll still be that of an abnormal childhood, but they’ll save you a lifetime of pain.” He said, leaving you desperate for more answers.

“Just tell me!” You banged your fist on the wooden table, not causing so much as a flinch from this protector.

“You’re going to have to defect.” He plainly stated.

“What? That’s your plan? That’s obvious!” You became more frustrated, letting the tears fall. “I need more, Batman! I am tired of being given easy answers to shut me up!” Batman stood up, rising above you and walking closer, which to you felt deeply threatening. But he placed a hand upon your shoulder and quieted you as you tensed.

“You leave them, you come with me.” That was the plan, his offer to you. “I know what it’s like, and if you come with me you can still do what you’re good at—to an extent.”

“And where is the line?” You grumbled.

“No killing.” You were told.

“That’s it?”

“No one needs to die. That’s not up to us.” Batman’s words happened to make perfect sense to you now. “You’ll be taken care of if you can follow along, but it’ll take some time. For now, I need you to wrap up any loose ends you might have.”

“I have to go back to the Court.” You told him.

“I understand, but don’t do anything you’d regret later. The no-killing rule is in effect as of now.” That warning changed your plan for the better. You would make sure they never forget what they’ve done to you.

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @wild-rose-35 // @alwaysananglophile // @ruvaakke // @more-multifandom-of-madness // @girlmythlegend // @shepsgotthoughts // @diansaprince // @v0idl1nq // @theseawakes // @sydknee624 // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @locke-writes // @elenavampire21 //

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x child!reader #bruce wayne x teen!reader #batman #batman x teen!reader #batman x child!reader #batman imagine #the batman #battinson #battinson x reader #battinson x teen!reader

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celestiall0tus · 2 years ago

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Miraculous AU - Chapter 13 - Perception

Beginning || Previous || Next

Juleka stepped out into the night. She took a seat on the deck then reached into her pocket. She pulled the silver pendant necklace out and held it up. Anxiety filled her as she examined it. She just had to put this one and she’d meet the kwami. She’d become a hero, like Alya and Marinette, maybe. More importantly, it brought her closer to saving her brother. She took a deep breath, moved to put it on, but stopped.

Juleka hesitated. Was this the right choice? She didn’t have any interest in being a hero or creating a team like Rose and the others did. She only wanted to help her brother. To shed his burdens and protect him from the butterfly bastard. But once she did that, what then? Would she just use this power to keep her family safe? Was it worth the risk to her loved ones? She was about to put the necklace back in her pocket when she remembered Alya’s words: “You’re not alone.”

Juleka sighed. She wasn’t alone in this, was she? This wasn’t just her fight. Marinette was at the forefront, with whoever Chat was, fighting against the butterfly man for whatever reason. Alya likely accepted the call to action without a hint of doubt despite having no need to fight. Regardless of their motivations, they still fought a battle that they didn’t need to, and they were on her side. She wasn’t alone.

Juleka took a deep breath. She steeled her resolve and put the necklace on. A white light emitted from the necklace as a ball of light appeared in front of her. She shielded her eyes until it faded to reveal a mouse kwami.

“Um, hello. I’m Juleka.”

“Greetings, Juleka. I am Mullo, the kwami of perception.”

“Nice to meet you. Uh, if you don’t mind, I have some questions.”

“Of course.”

“So, did I pass your test?”

“I’d say so.”

“So, why test me exactly?”

“There’s a lot of reasons. First, I believe your brother to be a good pick for the snake, despite being infested. Second, I believe you would be a good pick for my powers. But the biggest thing is you know the ladybug holder.”

“Why is that a big deal?”

“The ladybug and black cat are the greatest of all kwamis being creation and destruction. And I figured it’d be safer near them. With all of us, I’m sure the snake should feel safe enough.”

“Speaking of, what do you offer?”

“Like the others, I have two powers to offer, but also a Miraculous. For your solo powers, there is Perception and Bend. Perception gives you godlike senses, allowing you to hear, smell, and see things regardless of distance, so long as it’s on this planet at least. And Perception lasts for a minute. Bend allows you to manipulate the perceptions of others and even yourself. This could mean things like making yourself invisible to others, create flawless illusions in the minds of others, and even allow you to look into the minds of others.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. And an important note with Bend. It’s not like other greater powers that once activated, it consumes four uses of power, and lasts five minutes. It consumes one power per minute it is active. If you wish to change how you’re manipulating perception before a minute is up, it’ll consume another power and reset the timer. Understood?”

Juleka nodded.

“Now, the Miraculous requires the pig, kwami of ignorance. With it, you can create an area where reality is bended to how you wish it to be perceived. Alternatively, you can focus it on a single person and create a new reality for them. The downside is those affected by this Miraculous will only ever perceive the new realities and be forever blinded to the old one.”

“That seems… extreme.”

“As it must be. Miracles require a cost. To create, you must destroy. To see all, you must lose all. To know all there has been and will be, you must lose your mind. To save a life, you must take a life. For every miracle, a cost.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry. You can’t use this power unless you have the pig, and I haven’t felt their activation.”

“That’s good at least. So, what do I do to active your necklace then.”

“Juleka, if you wish to accept me and the duties I’ve taken to aid the snake, simply say, ‘Mullo, get squeaky.’ To de-transform, say, ‘Mullo, quiet down.’”

“Um, what if the snake doesn’t choose my brother? What do I do then?”

“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. First comes attracting the snake. The wolf is active, now I just need to be. So, do you accept?”

Juleka took a deep breath, then stood up.

“Mullo, get squeaky.”

Mullo disappeared into the pendant. It turned white with five pink mice chasing each other in a circle. The string that held it turned into a pink choker that now supported the pendant.

Juleka transformed as her hair turned white and the purple turned pink complete with mouse ears. Her bangs swept away from her eyes that turned pink with magenta pupils. Her clothes changed to a white midriff halter with the same mouse symbol on it and pants with tears in the pants. White formed from her wrist to her bicep that ended with a pink cuff and had holes in them. On top of the white sleeves, a pair of pink fingerless gloves appeared on her hands. The exposed skin of her shoulders and stomach covered in a pink fishnet Her shoes became white platform boots with a pink trim and platforms. A pair of strings hung from the boots like chains next to the mouse symbol. A pink whip wrapped around her and trailed off into a tail.

Juleka’s eyes widened as she looked at herself. She ran up to the railing and looked over in her watery reflection. She smiled and waved at this version of herself. She should show the girls, but it was late. Alix would have snuck out, but she didn’t want to deal with that. Rose was likely sleeping, and she should leave Alya to rest. Although, Marinette might be out as Ladybug with Chat. She took a step back and listened. She could hear a lot in the city, but she couldn’t hear Marinette.

“Perception,” Juleka whispered.

Noise assaulted Juleka’s ears and her vision overwhelmed with endless scenery. She shut her eyes and clutched her head. She worked to sort through everything until she heard Marinette’s voice. She focused and saw Marinette as Ladybug, taking a stroll with Chat along the Seine, further up the river.

Juleka opened her eyes as she focused on Marinette. She jumped from her home, onto the bridge. A small laugh escaped her as she landed. She burst into a sprint. She was fast, but not as fast as Louve. She was able to use her whip to swing around, but not in the same way Ladybug could with her yo-yo as she needed momentum. She made it to where Ladybug and Chat were walking, stopping along the ramp.

Juleka started to say ‘Marinette,’ but stopped herself. “Ladybug!”

Ladybug stopped and looked around until she saw Juleka. She approached as Juleka jumped down to join them.

Ladybug smiled. “The mouse looks good on you.”

“You know her?” Chat asked.

“Yup. We’re friends outside of being heroes, and as heroes now.”

“Well then. What shall we call you?” Chat asked.

Juleka looked at herself, then at them. “Souris Blanche.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Souris. Quite the team we got, eh, Bugaboo?” Chat said.

Souris stepped forward while she looked around. “Actually, about that. We were kinda talking today about maybe setting up an official team. Well, one of our friends did at least.”

“That may not be a bad idea,” Chat said.

Ladybug nodded. “I’ve thought about it after I left, and it might be a good idea. We’ve already got me and Chat, as well as Louve and you, Souris.”

Souris looked away. “I don’t think I’d be a hero, Ladybug. I only really accepted this to save my brother.”

Ladybug’s breath caught. “What’s wrong with Luka?”

Tears fell from Souris’ eyes. “He’s infested with Whispers, at least he’s gotta be by now. And Alya said once he’s infested, he’s primed to be transformed into a monster.”

Ladybug shook her head. “How is that possible? Luka never seemed to… I mean he always seems so happy. What’s plaguing his heart?”

“An old crush he had. I thought he had gotten over it, but it seemed it lingered enough to be taken advantage of.”

Ladybug hugged Souris. “It’ll be ok. If we can’t find the snake in time and he is transformed, we’ll help him. You have my word.”

Souris hugged Ladybug back. “Thank you. I hope we find the snake before then.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the deal with the snake?” Chat asked.

“Oh, he’s the kwami of health, so a healer of sorts. He’s the only one capable of purging infestations.”

“But he doesn’t trust humans. At least not since the Black Death. So, he usually doesn’t choose a holder until the wolf and mouse do. And apparently the mouse helps to assist the snake. So, we maybe have a chance of getting the snake to accept a holder,” Souris added.

Chat’s eyes widened as he let out a breath and looked away. He ran a hand through his hair and ruffled the hair on the back of his head. Souris raised a brow as she observed his posture. His back was slightly curved to that almost made him look like his was slouching. One leg was straight, while the other was slightly bent. His other hand sat at his hip, almost like he was trying to put it into a pocket that wasn’t there. It was like the poses she studied during her own practices.

Ladybug had approached Chat, reassuring him. His pose changed slightly as he moved the hand that he ruffled his hair with to rest on his neck. He looked at her, tilting his head slightly to the left, away from the hand on his neck. Both looked practiced, practically perfect. Almost like he was an actual model.

“Are you a model?” Souris mumbled.

Chat startled, his eyes widened, his cat ears perked up, and his tail shot up.

Ladybug raised a brow. “What happened?”

Chat smiled nervously and waved his hands in front of him. “It’s nothing. Just thought I heard something. These cat ears are really sensitive after all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. Probably also just tired is all. We did have an exciting day after all.”

“We can call it an early night, if you’d like.”

“We don’t have to. I’m not that tired.”

Ladybug put a hand on Chat’s shoulder. “It’s ok. You put in a lot of work today and I’m not about to ask you to push yourself just spend time with me.”

Chat’s cat ears drooped. “I don’t mind it. I enjoy your company.”

Ladybug blushed and hugged Chat. “Thank you, but seriously, don’t push yourself. We can always hang out tomorrow. Take it easy.” She grabbed her yo-yo, threw it, and was gone.

Chat sighed as he watched Ladybug leave. Souris stepped forward and stared at him.

“You’re a model.”

Chat’s ears twitched. “What makes you say that?”

“The way you stand is like you’re posing, practiced and perfect like you’ve done it many times and it’s subconscious.”

“That seems like a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”

Souris blinked. “Answer two questions of mine and we’ll see.”

“Going to try guessing who I am? I don’t think two questions will be enough.”

“Then let me prove you wrong. Are you a teenager that’s about sixteen or seventeen?”

“Yes.”

“Is green your natural eye color?”

“Not this green, but yes.”

“So, let’s see. You’re about my age, a model based on that every time I’ve seen you, and not just in person, you’ve been posing in one way or another almost like you’ve been doing it for some time now. And the mask and hair threw me off just a bit, I’m starting to recognize your face. Your voice is a little harder for me to pinpoint as, if I’m right, we only met once prior to this.”

Chat crossed his arms and eyed her suspiciously. “Who do you think I am?”

“You’re Adrien Agreste, aren’t you?”

Chat’s cat ears and tail twitched. “You figured it out from all that?”

Souris thumbed the pendant. “I guess I’m a good pick for the kwami of perception, don’t you think?”

Chat grinned. He uncrossed his arms a little, letting his left elbow rest on the back of his right hand. “I’ll give you that, you are. But seriously, how’d you know I was a model?”

“I’ve kinda studied modeling and you are a big name, so y’know.”

“Why study modeling? Aren’t there be more interesting things to study?”

Souris played with her hair as she looked away. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I promise.”

Souris sighed and sat on a nearby bench. “I want to be a model one day, so I’ve been studying the industry and practicing when I can. I haven’t had a chance to step into the industry, but I might on a smaller scale.”

Chat sat next to Souris. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Well, my friend, Marinette, is an aspiring designer. We’ve worn some of her designs before, and I know she’s happy with that, but we all know she’s hoping for more. So, Alya has been pushing for her to make a website and I volunteered to model for her.”

Chat’s smile and gaze softened as he looked at the river. “A website is a good idea. I hope she gets into the industry. I’ve seen her designs and they’re quite good.”

Souris eyed Chat as she rested her chin on her hands. She knew that look anywhere. “Did you want to spend more time with Marinette? You seem quite attached already, which isn’t too surprising. She tends to attract people to her.”

Chat sighed. “I wish, but I wouldn’t be able to as Adrien. And I don’t think I could hang out with her when I’m Chat.”

“What about modeling her designs? I know she still needs a male model.”

Chat considered, then nodded. “Maybe, but how would we even propose the idea?”

Souris smiled. “Mullo, quiet down.”

Mullo appeared from the pendant and transformed Souris.

Juleka took her phone from her back pocket and handed it to Chat.

“I can work something out. I would just need your number to contact you. Plus, for the team thing they’re putting together.”

Chat smiled and took the phone. “Y’know, for someone who doesn’t think they’ll be a good hero, you sure are pushing the idea of this team.”

Juleka shrugged. “My girlfriend wants to help us, so it’s the least I can do. Plus, it saves them a little of a wait. And don’t worry, we’ll try to keep your and Ladybug’s identities a secret from the two of you.”

Chat chuckled as he finished adding his contact information. “Well, I think I already know, but it would put her mind at ease.”

“You know already?”

Chat nodded and handed back Juleka’s phone.

Juleka grimaced as she took her phone. “Are you going to say something?”

“I want to, but my kwami told me that hers holds her to a different standard. So, I guess I’ll wait until she’s ready or unless something else happens.”

“Well, for appearances, we’ll keep it separate. I won’t tell the girls or Ladybug about it just to be safe. At least until you’re both ready.”

“Thank you. Well, I’m going to head off. Prowl the city a bit before I head home.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Of course. And, hey, if you ever want a night to practice your modeling, I’d be happy to help.”

Juleka’s eyes widened. “Yeah, of course. I’ll let you know.”

Chat smiled and waved, then headed off.

“Let’s head home. Mullo, get squeaky.”

Mullo disappeared into the pendant and transformed Juleka, who headed back home.

A butterfly sat on a streetlight as it watched the cat and mouse heroes from afar. Once both had left, it made its way back to its master. It slipped through the walls into the dark room filled with purple orbs as the man worked. The butterfly landed on his index finger.

“Ah, which do you have to add to?”

The butterfly flew up and searched the orbs until it found the one it was looking for. The man lowered it to him, revealing a teenage boy with black and blue green hair, dressed like a little wannabe groupie. The man’s Whispers had worked well, but the boy resisted, slowing the progress.

The man assessed the current plague this boy suffered. He tsked at the simple, buried unrequited love, then turned to the new butterfly. He looked into it and saw a girl with black and purple hair, similar to the boy. Siblings, he assumed. This girl spoke with the holder of the black cat but looked to have a kwami in her possession too. He watched the silent exchange until the girl transformed into a mouse themed punk.

The man hummed. “Let’s look into the boy’s heart.”

The man looked back to the boy, exposing his vulnerable heart. He saw the unrequited love buried deep, just about dead. Annoying that the whisper would turn to that first, although it did some work and planted a seed of contempt for the feline hero. However, what lay bare on the surface was far more intriguing. The boy was the strong one of the family. Always stood up for the girl, the sister. Doing what he could to keep her safe and happy, even at the expense of his own. A true brother and protector, but something so easily exploited. A shame it wasn’t before, but he would rectify that.

The man lowered the original Whisper but didn’t remove it. He split the new one into two separate ones. The first half he molded into a Whisper to prey on the boy’s need to protect his sister, his fear of failing her, and her turning to the feline hero for protection. The second half he molded into his sister refusing his protection while she ran off to play hero that played into his fear of losing her forever. Before he applied the new Whispers, he took the original and reshaped it to feed on the seed of hatred for the black cat holder. Once he finished, he applied all the Whispers. The silhouette of the boy turned black as the new Whispers made quick work of him.

The man cackled. “You will be a marvelous creation, boy. Just a little bit longer. Let that contempt fester and grow.” He placed the orb in the top of his cane, so he didn’t lose it. He turned back to the other orbs and continued his work.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #au #alternate universe #miraculous au #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #mlb fanfic #miraculous fanfic #fanfic #mlb juleka #miraculous juleka #juleka #juleka couffaine #souris blanche #miraculous chat noir #chat noir #creative writing

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sasukimimochi · 2 years ago

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- MCYT / DSMP

Discontinued fic from a couple years back i wanted to share. (a companion fic to this other discontinued fic: His Forever Home)

It has a bit of old art to go with it: just this one though.

lets start! fic below the line!

Boar Brothers

In hindsight, it was a childish mistake. Three brothers, playing in a field and rough housing. Of course, Tommy was always picked on the most, but he was absolutely the favorite. Wil and Techno always wanted to spend time with their baby brother, and even as he got older they would still smother him in attention.

He never should have did it. It didn’t look right, he knew something was wrong, but he was curious.

Wilbur traced the ancient rune on ruined stone, caramel eyes shimmering in wonder. “What is this?” He heard his two brothers stop playing and wander over, one of which, Techno, yanked his hand away and looked at the stone tentatively. “Maybe we shouldn’t…” Tommy however, flopped in front of it and put both hands on it like the child he was.

Techno tensed and reached out to pull the boy away, but before he could a strange green glow sifted out of the runes and engulfed the boy.

“Tommy!” His brothers shouted, reaching out to grab him but instead his little body was yanked into the sky, the trees casting their silhouette over his form.

“Wilbur! Help, Wilby!! Techno!” The sound of his baby brother, crying out to him in hopes to be saved, as he was carried away by an angry god filled his ears with agony.

“Wil.”

Wilbur’s head snapped up, letting out a surprised breath that turned into a relieved sigh when he met eyes with his older brother. “Jesus, Techno. You scared me…” Wilbur turned his head back to his desk, where there were child-like drawings laying on its surface.

“I was…just looking at Tommy’s drawings. The ones he gave me.”

Techno looked over his brother’s shoulder, features softening slightly. Most of them consisted of their small family, but these were mostly Wilbur and Tommy together. His eyes lingered on the one of a stick figure with brown scribbles for hair, and two orange dots for eyes; and holding their hand was a much smaller figure, gold scribbles for hair and blue dots for eyes.

Wilbur was always Tommy’s favorite. Techno found himself chuckling. “I can remember these pretty clearly; he gave you this one for your birthday, didn’t he?” He pointed at the one he’d been looking at. “Along with a nice, fat mud cake.”

Wilbur let out a sad, soft chuckle. “Yeah. Pretty sure I puked cuz he insisted I have a bite.” His lip trembled a bit, and Techno’s shoulders lowered slightly. “His birthday is coming up soon. He’ll be 10. Double digits…”

“Yeah…That he is.” Techno mumbled, thinking for a moment before gently moving the pictures to one side of the desk so he could sit on it, legs crossed.

“Tommy would let you have it if he saw you like this over him.” Techno hoped his emotional constipation wasn’t getting in the way of comforting his brother here, but at least he was trying. He lifts a hand to gently rub his brother’s tense shoulder and his brother’s ears drooped, tail tapping on the floor. “Tommy’s strong, Wil. When we find him, he’ll gripe about how long we took to find him, just like when we played hide and seek and he always somehow won.” Aka, they both let him win for a moment of silence.

Wil lifted his head, eyes watered and threatening to spill over. “It’s been so long, Tech.” As cliché as it sounded, he could remember it like it happened just yesterday. He wished it had just been yesterday, but instead…It’d been two long years. “If we found him, would he remember us?”

Techno frowned, looking to the floor with a thoughtful, constipated expression, before grabbing his brother’s arm and yanking him up. “Up.” Techno reprimanded himself mentally for coming off a bit more harsh, but still made the other follow him.

“You didn’t answer my question…” Wilbur trailed off, rubbing his arm where he was pulled and followed after to the garden. He imagined the little mop of blonde running between the rows, picking tomatoes and eating grapes off the vine. Phil would always cut the melons free to enjoy in the summer, and help them carve pumpkins in the fall.

“We’re going to garden, and I want you to think about anything else but the worst that could happen.” Techno grabbed the gloves and shears, tapping a hoof on the steps next to Wilbur so to catch his attention. “It would make Tommy sad to see you like this. Come on, let’s get some stuff cut and preserved.”

Wilbur sighed and took the gloves, pulling them on quickly so he could take the shears. “Alright…” His voice was still low and weighted, but he didn’t try to bring up the worst again.

The silence as they worked on snipping ripe fruit and vegetables free was tense, so while Techno was carefully placing grapes and plums in his basket, he cleared his throat. “You know, Tommy used to sing to these plants. His favorite was Hallelujah, right?” Techno moved to snip some small bell peppers from their stems, glancing at Wilbur.

“Yeah…pretty much the only song he knew word for word, actually.”

#this one is quite short compared to HFH #BB #Boar Brothers #dsmp #dream smp #fanfiction #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fic #Wilbur Soot #Technoblade #SBI themed #SBI #children #youngin's

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mondaymelon · 1 year ago

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— 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓: 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 | lyney, freminet, wriothesley, neuvillette x gn!reader

⤷ [ their voicelines of you, their lover. ₊˚ෆ]

LYNEY

About: A Partner

“Now, now, Traveller, what's got you poking into my relationship affairs? Well, if you’re that curious, sparing a hint or two can’t hurt, surely? Alright, take a guess, and here’s your clue - who’s the most beautiful person in all of Fontaine?”

About: Romance

“Oh my, you’ve grown quite bold in your blatant curiosity, haven’t you? Why, I find myself rather romantic indeed~ After all, it most undoubtedly puts a smile on their lips when I present them with a fresh bouquet of roses, does it not?”

About: First Kiss

“Ah, now that was a moment to forever remember… shall I recount the tale? Haha, Traveller, you look quite intrigued, is it really so interesting? Hmm… although, now that I think about it… perhaps it wasn’t so much a “first kiss” and more of a stolen one? Now now, you can’t blame me, they simply looked so enrapturing in the sun-kissed light after one of my opening shows that I couldn’t help but sweep them into my arms and kiss them!”

FREMINET

About: A Partner

“A lover…?? Ah, Traveller… h-how did you find out….? N-No, I certainly don’t mind you knowing! It’s uhm… just… well, private affairs? Ahaha… O-oh, is my face red? S-Sorry!”

About: Romance

“Oh no… I don’t think I’m all that romantic, honestly…! It’s obvious that I’m not exactly a very straightforward or… confident person, it’s just my nature? It took a long time to muster up the courage to confess, and it’ll take a lot out of me to- E-Eh?? H-Have we kissed?? T-Traveller, m-maybe let’s save those kinds of questions for later?

About: First Kiss

“I-I figured this inquiry would arise eventually… hah, it’s alright, probably. L-Let me think back- no, of course I wouldn’t forget! I-It’d be more of a challenge to erase it from my memory… it was after I taught them how to dive, a-and while they were looking at the sealife I had secretly picked a Romaritime flower for them… Once we got out of the water, I gifted the flower to them and they were so excited they k-kissed me, right here… o-on the cheek… N- What do you mean that doesn’t count??”

WRIOTHESLEY

About: A Partner

“...What, do I look like someone incapable of having one? I’m joking, okay, so don’t look so apologetic all of a sudden… I’m sorry, the question took me by surprise. You see, no one ever questions you about your relationship status, do they? Either way, I do have one… though I trust you won’t trouble them about it?”

About: Romance

“Haha… ah… if you’re asking for romantic activities… does… sharing a word over tea count? It’s the modest, every day occurrences that really make the difference, aren’t they? It can be quiet, it can be lively, but either way, as long as I can find myself sitting on a chair positioned next to theirs, with our hands intertwined under the shade of the table, words won’t even have to be shared. Their warmth alone is enough.”

About: First Kiss

“I think the day when it happened might’ve been my happiest. That morning before I left for the Fortress I had told them I wanted to see them at work, and how taxing it was, being apart from their presence… But I seriously didn’t believe it when they showed up, knocking on my office door with that sly grin. And then the nerve to kiss me as I was trying to focus on paperwork, just how arrogant is that? Hah, as if could ever see them in that light... although the true chore was hiding from Siegewinne when she burst in not even a second later, jumping about…”

NEUVILLETTE

About: A Partner

“What is it? You’re free to speak any concer- ah? A… lover, you say? Yes, it’s true I have one… But don’t tell the Melusines this, alright? They have a bad habit of sharing misinformation… and I’d certainly hate it if any inconvenience were to come upon my lover.”

About: Romance

“Ahem… I don’t exactly… understand the concept of this “romance” you speak of, Traveller. I’ve found myself often questioning the actions of mortals, but nonetheless they are beautiful in their own rights. Ultimately, shouldn’t it be sufficient enough just to see them happy in my presence? That is all I dearly wish for.

About: First Kiss

“Do you truly feel no shame in asking such private questions? …I’ll be lenient, just this once, since I’d like to speak about them as well. And if I were to answer the question obvious in your gaze… well, it was them who kissed me first, not the other way around. Ah, is that disappointment I sense? It’s not that I’d hope our story is unique, it’s simple and sweet, and I am perfectly content with it. An afternoon relieved of my ludex duties to roam about the city, drinking tea while watching the sun set, the words shared that day, and the light that danced in their eyes as they kissed me… Yes, I simply would not have it any other way.”

(a/n) hey hey writer's tip!!! didnt feel like gatekeeping today... when writing ff during class or in a public space where people could easily look over your shoulder and witness the sins you are committing, simply turn the text color to a really light gray so that (unless they concentrate really hard, but with our goldfish-built minds likely won't) they won't witness at thing ! i mean of course you won't be able to either, but you should know what you're writing right ?!

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife

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wearywinchester · 4 years ago

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Tender

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When hiding an injury from Dean doesn’t go to plan, he’s there to give you the comfort you need.

Requested by @latenight-daythoughts: “Hey! I have a request for a Dean one shot please, could you do one where she gets hurt on a hunt and tired to play it off until they get back to the bunker and when dean patches her up it hurts more then she thought, so she starts crying and Dean comforts her and is all cute and sweet? I love your writing btw!!”

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: angst, injury, blood, fluff, comfort, kissing

Hurt. You got hurt on that hunt and you weren’t quite sure how you talked yourself out of it with Dean. Maybe you actually did, but a part of you told you that was more than likely impossible. Not with the look he gave you or the glance he spared down at your leg. But he seemingly took your word for it at that very moment.

Your eyes squeezed shut for a moment as you took a breath, trying your hardest to make it to the Impala sitting just a few feet away. Every ounce of pressure on your leg made it ache all the more as you walked, walked like you insisted you could do to a persistent Dean the moment he saw the look on your face. But you told him you were fine, staving his worries with a smile and a witty counter that had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It was fine, so long as you kept your weight off of it as much as possible until you could clean yourself up, it’d be fine. At least that’s what you’d told yourself.

You were relieved once you’d slipped in the front seat after Dean suggested you sit up there with him, Sam in the back, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as you slumped back against the leather seat. The fabric of your jeans over the wound on your thigh had been frayed on the brink of being ripped, but not enough to draw your eye should you be anyone but yourself or Dean Winchester. Stains of crimson hadn’t been visible on the dark denim material, but you were sure it’d be obvious the moment they came off.

As you sat, you felt that ache on your leg begin to lighten some, that pain shooting down it dissipating now that you hadn’t been standing on it.

It shouldn’t be that bad, not really, you’d snagged it along the edge of something sharp when that demon had thrown you with so much as a flick of her hand. You were sore overall, something a hot bath might help with when you make it back to the bunker. But you’d yet to see your leg, to see just what damage lay beneath your jeans.

“You sure you’re okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked, pulling your attention from your thoughts.

You looked to your left, Dean’s gaze shifting from the road to look at you for a moment or two before looking ahead.

“‘M fine, De,” you murmur, that aching burn on your thigh threatening to spill over your emotions and give you away in an instant.

He looks at you again in a lingering glance, his lips pursed in disbelief, brows furrowing at the way you looked down at your leg with a frown, or the way you brushed your thumb over that very spot you said was nothing. He saw how your lips twitched downward in a deeper frown for only a mere second, quickly brushing it off with a sigh and a bite to the inside of your cheek before he looked forward once more.

You knew, by the light tension in his jaw and the crease between his brows, you knew he could see there was more to it than that.

After a moment or two you scooted a little closer to him, your hand grabbing his own. He felt the way you brushed your thumb along his knuckles in an absentminded habit, your gaze fixed out the window in an attempt to set your attention on anything other than the burning feeling that simmered on your skin.

It was okay. You were fine.

Your hand hadn’t left Dean’s nearly the entirety of the trip, something he noticed and something he didn’t mind, something that had him smiling softly at the mere thought of it. But something that was just as quick to steal that smile was the very look on your face each and every time he glanced over at you, a slight frown on your lips that you weren’t even aware you had, and that crease between your brows very much there.

You sighed when he parked in the bunker’s garage that night, getting out before he could come and help you do it. The look on his face was evident that he wasn’t happy with that, those dimples appearing by the corners of his mouth as he looked at you over the roof of the car.

“I’m fine, Dean,” you say, meeting him and Sam at the trunk where you’d grabbed your bags.

“You say that every time, sweetheart,” he counters.

“Maybe this time you’ll take my word for it,” you say, brows raised as you put your bag over your shoulder.

He chuckles then, head shaking as he closes the trunk. You tried your best to be convincing, and so far he hadn’t pried, but that very same feeling was back now that you were up and walking around, pressure back on your leg seemingly worse than before.

You found yourself grateful that Dean had chosen to walk ahead, Sam beside you, making it just a little easier to hide the change in the way you walked. Just enough to get you to your shared room without being terribly obvious. But it hurt, it hurt more and it was becoming increasingly more apparent to you.

You were home, and that’s what made things a bit better for you. You weren’t in some motel anymore, weren’t in the Impala anymore, you were home in the comfort of your familiar place with your room, your bed, and Dean. Despite the nagging pain wearing away at you with every movement of your leg, you tried not to think about it that much, and tried not to think about how it’d feel upon taking your jeans off. How it’d look given that you haven’t even seen it yet.

Dean dimmed the lights in the hall and bid Sam a goodnight like he always did, twisting the knob to your shared room and pushing the door open. Everything was as you’d left it just three days prior, the bed still made and ready to climb in and Dean’s slippers still tucked halfway under the bed, his pajama pants still slung over the back to the small desk chair.

“There’s no place like home,” Dean chuckles, sighing as he drops his duffel bag on the floor at the foot of the bed right next to yours.

You watched as he untied his boots and stepped out of them, unease settling over you as you took your own boots off, fighting the urge to scrunch up your face at the way your jeans pressed into your leg as you bent down.

You couldn’t hide this from him forever, you don’t think that’s possible when you really think about it. But you still weren’t willing to give it up, you could see the look on his face already if he knew. So, you bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged off your jacket, eyeing him with a soft sigh.

“I’m gonna go shower before bed,” you say, smiling when he turns to face you.

He simply hums, dipping down to kiss you.

“Don’t be too long,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling back with a grin.

“Is it ‘cause you’ll miss me too much, Winchester?” You ask, brow raising in amusement.

You watch as the corner of his mouth quirks upwards, a laugh leaving his lips as he nods to himself, tugging back the blankets on the bed. It very much was the reason and he knew it, no matter how much Sam picks on him for it all in good fun, he just can’t help it.

“That’s exactly why,” he says, tossing a clean flannel of his your way along with a pair of boxers because he knows just how much you love to wear them to bed. Doesn’t even need you to tell him that very fact because he sees you snag a pair from his drawer every night without a care that he’ll see you stealing them either.

You stand there for a moment more as you look at him, your smile soft and fond as you hold the clothes in your hands. After that moment, you find it in yourself to turn on your heel and step into the hall, heading towards the bathroom. Your heart was bursting with the very thought of him sharing his clothes with you, of the very idea that he’d been so thoughtful, but the wound on your leg was making it awfully difficult to think about anything other than that.

You switched the light on and closed the door behind you, setting the clothes down on the counter. You turned the faucet on and stuck your hands under the tap, the water cold as it splashed across your face. It was a little more refreshing than you felt before it, soothing the fatigue that’d been settling over you only temporarily.

Dread simmered in the pit of your stomach at the thought of having to take off your jeans, but it wasn’t doing you any good to keep them on.

You exhaled a sigh, eyes squeezing shut as you hooked your fingers in your belt loops. It was fine until you got about halfway, and you found yourself fighting the urge to let out the cry that’s been sitting in the back of your throat, the feel of the rough material scraping over your thigh making it all the more difficult to stifle it.

It was then that you saw it, the blood smudged over your leg and the scrape that ran across your skin, angry and red as it tapered just above your knee. You ran your hands down your face at the sight of it, having been less than ideal but you knew it couldn’t have been good.

You kicked the dirtied jeans to the side in frustration, sighing as you opened the cabinet below the sink. You snagged the first aid kit and the bottle of peroxide just next to it, grabbing a clean wash rag.

This could have been avoided, maybe, but at that moment you were struggling to figure out just how it could have been. Demons were unpredictable, able to sense a trick with ease, able to tell when someone’s lurking with the intent to leave one less demon in the world. They give ample opportunities to be outsmarted, though, but this didn’t seem to be one of those times. There was no match for a human against the powers they hold save for the weapons that served you no use that day. You were thrown clear across the room without a beat of hesitation, something done with ease.

So maybe, just maybe it wasn’t avoidable this time.

You knew Dean saw it, he had to. It was more than obvious that there’d be repercussions to being thrown a good seven feet into a less than unforgiving cabinet. He knew you better than to believe that you were as fine as you say you were. He knows you like the back of his hand, can see your stubbornness from a mile away because he’s the very same.

You wet the wash rag at the sink, taking a seat on the bench by the showers. You began to blot away the blood, nose scrunching and eyes squinting as the burn of the jagged scrape worsened from it.

It was then that there was a knock on the door, a more than familiar voice on the other side.

“Sweetheart? ‘M coming in, I forgot to—”

Your eyes widen as the door opens, gaze meeting green eyes before his stare shifts downwards to the rag in your hand, splotches of a pale crimson staining it. They bounce to the source, to the irritated and red scrape dragging along the outside of your thigh, nearly classifying as a cut but not quite.

“Y/n.”

“Dean, it’s not—”

“What, ‘it’s not a big deal’?” He says, anger seeping into his tone. Not at you, never. It was when he thought back to that hunt that has him angry.

“Dean,” you sigh.

He’s quick to cross the tiled floor, kneeling in front of you. He nudges your knee with his hand gently, the tips of his fingers brushing along your skin. You saw the crease between his brows deepen, lips parted as his eyes bounced over the entirety of the wound on your leg. You can see the way his jaw tenses, tight and unwavering and if it were possible, steam would be coming out of his ears at that moment.

“Damn it, Y/n,” he says quietly, a frustrated huff leaving his lips. “You didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out,” you reason, brows furrowing as you tilt your head to the side slightly.

His gaze narrows up at you in disapproval, your reasoning something that was near laughable to him, you even knew it was ridiculous too the moment the words fell from your lips.

“You can bet I’ll freak out,” he says, his chuckle humorless as he runs his hand down his face. “This is exactly why I didn’t want us to split up.”

“Well, we did.”

He bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at you, breathing out a huff through his nose. He was upset more than anything, with himself you could tell, could see the frown on his lips as he grabbed the wash cloth from your hand and picked up where you left off.

He was gentle as he wiped away the dirt and blood smeared around it, more so than you despite the white-knuckled grip he’s got on the tattered cloth. You tried to keep your attention on anything else, anything other than the way your leg had been so sensitive even the most mild of touches as hurt. You tried to keep your gaze on him, distract yourself with the abundance of freckles speckled across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks.

They were easy to distract yourself with on any given occasion, on times where you didn’t need to be distracted, when you shouldn’t be. But for the life of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to get lost in counting them this time, not with the numbing pain serving as a painful way of keeping you fixated on just that.

“You should have told me,” he says quietly, residual anger still wrapped around his tone with the softness of his words. But he was more concerned than angry.

You puffed out a humorless laugh through your nose, your grip on the bench you sat on tightening some. “I’m not exactly jumping at the idea of running to my boyfriend every time I get hurt on a hunt.”

Your tone is frustrated, embarrassment simmering in the pit of your stomach over the current situation you were in, not to mention the way it happened. You’d never get taken seriously if you ran and cried to Dean each and every time you got hurt. You barely felt like an adequate hunter as it is, you didn’t want to add to it. You would have been fine if he hadn’t seen it.

“Y/n, this isn’t some puny little paper cut, okay? This is way different than just slapping a bandaid on it and kissin’ it better.”

“I said I’m fine, Dean,” you say, jaw tensing as you look away.

You hated the way your voice was beginning to falter, swallowing thickly in hopes to push down the persistent lump in your throat. Now was not the time to cry, not in front of him. That would only make matters worse and you don’t think you could handle that.

“It doesn’t make you weak to ask for help, not even a little bit. You don’t have to play the tough guy act all the time.”

You stay quiet as you continue to look away from him, the pressure building behind your eyes. When you glance down you see he’s got that dreaded bottle in his hand, popping the cap open with his thumb. He’s hesitant as he tips the bottle, the clear peroxide having poured steadily over every inch of the wound on your leg, bubbling and stinging the moment it touches the damaged skin.

You felt your lip begin to quiver, near uncontrollable as it throbbed and burned, the pain worse than you thought as you bit down on your lip. It was almost unbearable, a numbing kind of pain that brought heat to your cheeks and quickened your heart. That pressure behind your eyes increased then until you just couldn’t handle it, lip free from your teeth as you hid your cry in your shoulder.

But it turns out, you’re not that good at hiding, not from Dean Winchester. Not that it was very hard to notice either.

He stopped immediately, gaze flickering to you, cheeks wet with hot tears and lip quivering in a way that tugged at his heart. His hand settled on your cheek, a gentle nudge to get you to look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, the fond nickname something that makes you cry all the more in that moment.

You wrap your arms around him and he settles back a bit as he holds you closer, brows furrowed and jaw tense because seeing you so upset is one thing he can’t handle. Seeing you cry is something that tears him to shreds every time.

His grip on you is tight, his stubble pressing into the side of your neck. He’s cautious of bumping your leg, his throat clearing to try and stave off that pressure constricting around his throat from that very same lump forming as it did you. You could feel the kiss he pressed to your cheek, one to your temple, lingering and sweet. Dean Winchester could be the gruffest man anyone’s ever seen, but he’s got the softest heart, and if there’s one thing he can do without fail it’s comfort.

He finds himself pulling back when you loosen your grip, lip still wobbly as ever as you look at him with glossy eyes. You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, cheeks that burn with embarrassment for crying even though he didn’t mind it in the slightest. He didn’t mind the tears on his shirt, didn’t mind the snot to go with it. That’s the least of his concerns, they all pale in comparison to you.

“It hurts,” you whisper, your gaze shifting to his at the feel of his hand on your cheek, calloused and warm.

“I know it does, baby. Hell, I couldn’t even imagine what that feels like,” he says, smiling softly. “But ‘m almost finished and the ugly part is over, I can promise you that. You just gotta let me take care of you, okay?”

You nod, the patience in his words having set you at ease as you sniff, wiping your tears once more when his hand falls from your face in favor of sorting through bandages. He comes up with a few cotton pads, laying them over the length of the freshly cleaned wound as you sit there, still sniffling from having cried.

He’s more than careful as he takes the roll of gauze and wraps it around your thigh, securing the bandages completely with care to not make it too tight before he tucks in the loose end.

“You’re good as new, sweetheart,” he says, looking up at you.

You flash him a look, biting the inside of your cheek as you laugh softly, not quite humorous. “I’d hardly call it that.”

You’re grumbling, but he takes that hint of a smile as a good thing, standing halfway to press a kiss on your cheek and one to your lips, another to your forehead as his hand brushes over your cheek before he stands fully and swipes the clean clothes from the counter.

You stand with a look of unease, trying your best to keep the pressure on your good leg before that dreadful pain can jolt up your other. You shrug off your shirt in favor of his flannel, the soft material hanging loosely from your shoulders in a heap of warm and fabric softener and a hint of his cologne. It’s a simple thing that amounts to more comfort than you can express, the mere feeling of it putting you at ease.

He helps you with your pajama bottoms, trying not to fuss over you as you did it yourself, instead offering his arm for your balance that you found yourself needing more than you thought.

Your bed was more comfortable than you’d imagined coming home to, leaps and bounds better than that motel mattress. The sheets were soft and they too smelled like Dean, the blankets warm and hefty as they rested over top of you.

Dean brought you close enough to nearly share a pillow, the events transpiring earlier that day on the hunt having sunken deep in the pit of his stomach and simmered there, bringing with it that anger that hadn’t quite left. It made his stomach twist and churn each and every time you got hurt, the blame he put on himself having picked at him every single time without fail. Especially when it brings you to tears, especially when it’s got you so bothered it’s got you crying into his shoulder.

He hates it, he hates that part of hunting.

But regardless, those kind green eyes meet your gaze as he looks at you with a soft smile, his fingertips brushing along your cheek. He’s got that look on his face, one that’s telling of something humorous sitting on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be spoken.

“What, De?” You sigh, feeling the residual tension of your tears beginning to dissolve just a little more.

He chuckles, looking down for a moment as he shakes his head. “If I were you, ‘think I might’ve cried way sooner than you did.”

You roll your eyes then, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Dean, that’s a lie and you know it.”

“Is not,” he insists, lips pursed to stifle his smile.

You look at him, tired and amused as you make no effort to hide your smile. He’s got that smile, that one that makes your cheeks burn and your heart flutter every time he looks at you like that.

“Whatever you say, Winchester,” you sigh, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

You find yourself lying atop his chest as he turns the tv up a little bit more, his chuckle rumbling against you. He tossed the remote down, the very tip of your finger tracing over his chest. Your legs tangle with his own, your injured one on top as you turn a bit more on your side. He’s got reruns of your favorite show on because he knows you’re too tired to watch the new ones, knows you like to have it on when you fall asleep.

“Goodnight, De,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his chin before sinking back down on his chest.

He smiles in that moment, soft and sweet as his thumb brushes back and forth over your shoulder lightly.

“Night, sweetheart.”

You’re fine. You’ve got him and you’re okay.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @deandaydreaming @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction

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thewertsearch · 3 years ago

Text

TT: And this voice? GC: OH YEAH GC: ITS AN EXILE TT: Exiled from what? GC: IT TOOK US FOREVER TO FIGURE THIS OUT GC: BECAUSE THEY ARENT MEANT TO BE AN OBVIOUS ASPECT OF THE GAME GC: THEYRE ON YOUR DEAD PLANET

The Exile mechanic is meant to be a kind of ‘background process’, which the trolls had to pull the curtain back to uncover. That’s why John couldn't really hear WV - the game tries to ensure that only the compulsion gets through, and not the awareness.

GC: THEIR ROLE IS TO HELP YOU ON YOUR QUEST IN SOME WAYS GC: THE OBVIOUS WAY IS BY DIRECTLY GUIDING YOUR ACTIONS GC: BUT MAYBE THE MORE IMPORTANT WAYS ARE THESE LITTLE THINGS THEY DO PROBABLY WITHOUT EVEN REALIZING IT GC: ACTIONS THAT COMPLETE LOOPS IN THE TIMELINE

And according to GC, their true purpose is to propagate the game's loops.

We’ve been seeing loop after loop after loop in this game. Loops are baked into Sburb, and probably into the Incipisphere itself. I was confused about this place’s strange relationship with time, but I think I’m starting to understand what that means.

GC: COGS IN PARADOX SPACE TT: Paradox space?

Title drop!

This could be the dimension the Incipisphere is encased in. A paradoxical, ‘impossible’ space, which sets the stage for an impossible game.

GC: LISTEN THE UNIVERSE WILL EAT PARADOXES FOR BREAKFAST GC: AND SO WILL THIS GAME GC: GET USED TO IT GC: BY NOW YOU SHOULD REALIZE THIS WHOLE MESS WAS A BIG SELF FULLFILLING CLUSTERFUCK

Ya think? John could trip over a rock and it’d probably set up a loop.

I’m starting to think GC really does have a lot in common with Rose. If you read between the lines, the leetspeek, and the sarcastic comments about communicating through farts, they're smart, and very much in tune with what’s really going on with this game.

TT: So the exiles are on Earth? Does that mean our goal is to get back there too? To resurrect it somehow? GC: NO NO NO GC: SEE IRONICALLY THEY GET TO DO THAT

I guess that explains why the Exiles are all so obsessed with public works. They were specifically sent out to make Can Planet.

GC: BUT PART OF THEIR JOB IS TO REBUILD LIFE AND CIVILIZATION THERE GC: AND IF THEYRE SUCCESSFUL IN THOUSANDS OR MILLIONS OF YEARS THE TECHNOLOGY IS UNEARTHED AND THE PLANET IS RIPE FOR SEEDING ALL OVER AGAIN

...not that that's particularly uplifting, if Can Planet just gets pulverized by meteors again.

Maybe that's already happened. There’s nothing saying humanity was Sburb’s first run on Earth.

TT: You never answered the question. Where were they exiled from? GC: FROM THE TWO KINGDOMS IN THE INCIPISPHERE GC: EXPATRIATED DURING THE RECKONING GC: FORMER AGENTS

The reckoning? Sounds like some sort of political event, if it's leading to Agents getting exiled. Perhaps the Agents have their loyalties tested in some way, and the ones who don’t measure up are sent out.

Right, that was a lot of info! GC might be pissed, but unlike CG, they’re linear and aren’t sick of repeating exposition.

Let’s just mention one final thing which stood out to me. I don’t have any real comments about this, but man, is it ominous.

Sburb has a bigger job for the kids? Bigger than saving their planet?

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 4

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midgardianweasley · 4 years ago

Note

I‘d love to see you write an angsty fanfic with Natasha x reader (male or female is up to you) with a bad ending of your choice.

No pressure of course ✨

as requested Violet!! I hope it's okay<3

How could you do this to me?

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha hasn’t been around recently and Y/N’s been really missing her company, but that changes when some CCTV footage is discovered.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

there was an attempted proof read, but sorry in advance if i've missed anything!!

message/ask to be added to the taglist<3

Requests are open!

You weren’t surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again, the space beside you missing a red-head assassin. You’d grown used to the sight of bedsheets spread lazily on your side of the bed, almost completely thrown off of the edge. It wasn’t unusual, however, the feeling of disappointment that lingered in your chest every morning never eased with time.

‘I’m just off to train, baby.’

‘I need to go and see Fury about this next mission, you go back to sleep’

‘I forgot to debrief the team last night, so we need to have a meeting this morning instead.’

‘Off to get some breakfast, my love. I’ll save you some eggs.’

Those were the typical reasons you received whenever you questioned where she was going in such a hurry in the mornings. You knew she was busy, of course you did. But, you missed the mornings when she’d pull you back into her chest, refusing to let you leave until you gave her a few kisses, which never ended up just being kisses, but you always gave in either way.

Now that you think of it, you can’t remember the last time she held you. Not properly. She used to hold you in a death grip, so tight that you could almost feel her heartbeat in your own chest. Nowadays, you were lucky to get more than a few taps on the back, it felt like you were being congratulated for something.

You’d always brushed it off, thinking that you must’ve been selfish for wanting so much of her attention, you had to be more understanding of how demanding her job is. It wasn’t like you never tried, you did, everyday. It would just be nice to feel her love for you a little more, even if it was just a quick peck before she left in the mornings.

“Hey Wan’, Hey Vis” You smiled at the pair as they stood at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs and buttering some toast. They loved cooking together, Wanda always told you how cute it was when Vision was trying to learn, especially after his fiasco with the Paprika.

“Hi Y/N, want something to eat?” Wanda handed you some toast, which you took gratefully, slowly munching on it.

Vision looked up as though to engage in conversation, when he then looked around in confusion. “Where’s Ms. Romanoff?”. You shrugged.

“I’m not sure, I think she’s training, I’ve not heard from her yet.”

You were looking at Vision, but it was near impossible to miss the sympathetic look Wanda was giving you. She knew about how you’d been feeling with Natasha not being around so much, she had tried to help, to hint to Nat that you’d been feeling a bit neglected for a while now, but she hadn’t gotten very far.

“Nat, nat, I just think that maybe you should spend a little more time with Y/N” It was obvious the assassin wasn’t listening to her, shrugging it off and trying to walk past the witch, only to have a hand pressed on her chest to push her backwards.

“Wanda, I need to go, I'm running late.”

“you’re always running somewhere. I'm sure Fury, or Tony or whoever you’re in such a rush to see, can wait. You haven’t seen your girlfriend in forever.”

“I saw her last night.”

“Crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning and sleeping next to her, isn’t seeing her, Nat.”

Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her friend turn around and walk the other way. She could’ve used her powers to stop her, she didn’t see a point though. She wasn’t listening, and she couldn’t force her to.

“It's fine though, honestly! I can hang out with you guys today if you’re not busy?”

the couple shared a look of awkwardness before looking back towards you.

“Actually, we were going to go into town and do some sightseeing. You’re welcome to join us though!” She smiled, not wanting you to be alone, which you were grateful for, but you couldn’t intrude.

“No no, don’t worry! I think I've got something Tony wanted me to check out in the Lab, now that I think about it.” You didn’t. “You guys have fun though! take pictures!” You winked, knowing full well that your best friend didn’t believe you, she hesitated before nodding her head in agreement and beginning to walk off with Vision in tow.

__________________

An hour or so went by, you still hadn’t seen Natasha at all, or anyone, really. They all seemed to have disappeared to do their own thing, leaving you to find yours. So, you found yourself wandering into your lab, where you found Tony observing the screens with an endless amount of data changing every couple of seconds. You never really understood how he made sense of it all so quickly, but you’d always been intrigued nonetheless.

He must’ve sensed someone was there, as he broke away from his train of thought and glanced over towards you, fully acknowledging how your shoulders were slumped and your eyes lacked your usual sparkle. Tony alway had a soft spot for you, he’d known you for years, taking on a role similar to a father’s. Seeing you look so defeated recently, it’d hurt him a little more than he cared to admit.

Gesturing for you to come in with a gentle smile before moving and adjusting various chunks of metal on the table in the centre of the lab.

“Ah ah!” He tapped the bridge of his nose

“You can’t be serious! Tony I-”

“Nope”

“I’m a grown woman!” You laughed in disbelief at his

“Yes, you are, and I do not plan on taking said grown woman to medical because she got a shot of electricity through her eyeball. Put them on.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a pair of the obnoxiously large lab goggles and put them over your face. He really took being a ‘father figure’ too seriously sometimes. With your goggles on, you took yourself over to where he stood, hoping to help him out somehow and keep yourself occupied.

You watched him move around blueprints on the screen above. “So, whatcha working on?”

“Well, remember that last mission we went on? How that ended?”

“Well, considering I had to get bullets removed for the last two hours, I’d say I remember pretty well.”

His face cringed slightly “Yeah, that’s the one. I’m basically just trying to layer the suits more, but keep the weight to a minimum so that there’s more protection, but the speed and mobility is almost, if not, the same.” He pondered, mind wandering off again to try and figure out how he could make this work.

Suddenly springing to action, he started assembling some pieces together, chucking some aside and reaching for different tools he required.

Looking towards you, he tilted his head “Can you pass me the-”

His sentence was interrupted. “Hey Tony, hey-” Banner. You didn’t mind Bruce, he was always quite quiet and polite most of the time, a little awkward, but, when you have a literal Hulk inside of you, it’s probably the least of your concerns.

You waved at the Avenger. “Hi Bruce” You gave him a friendly smile, for it to be returned with an awkward gaze, which he tried to quickly shove off.

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N. W-what brings you here?”

“Oh, no particular reason, I wanted something to do so I thought I'd come down, just pay a visit.” He nodded, acknowledging your words but appearing a little on edge, almost.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked “You look a little pale?”

“Yeah, yeah n-no I'm fine, just a-a bit tired.” He stuttered before suddenly directing his attention towards the man standing beside you. “How’s it coming along, Ton’?”

“Not bad, I have a wonderful assistant to help me out.” he nudged you playfully.

“Haha, yeah. She’s great. Anyways, you seem to have a good hold on things, so, I’ll leave you to it and come back later.”

Neither of you had managed to get a word out before Banner had walked out and was already out of sight. You turned to face Tony again.

“Was that- did you find that weird at all?”

“I find most of the people in this compound weird.”

It was a serious question, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the millionaire’s response.

“I do pride myself on it.”

“As you should. You’re the weirdest one.”

“Hey!” You slapped his arm. “Rude!”

“I’m kidding! Now, pass me that screwdriver, goggles.”

Chuckling, you threw him the screwdriver and zoned out thinking about Bruce’s weird behaviour. While Tony was right, the majority of us are weird. You couldn’t stop thinking about how unusual it was, even for him. You put it to the back of your mind though, focusing back on what the man beside you was working on. You’re sure it’s fine.

________________________

You thought you were going crazy. First you had Nat, who was disappearing every chance she got, Then you had Bruce who couldn’t look you in the eye and when you finally believed it couldn’t get any weirder, you picked up on some strange vibes from Steve.

“Oh finally! I was beginning to think no one else actually lives here.” You approached Steve who seemed to be walking and talking with Bruce, both taking a step back when they looked towards you.

“Hey Y/N, we were just-”

“We were just about to go and have a shower. Training.” Steve cut in, earning himself a glare and a shake of the head from the scientist beside him, subtle, so you hadn’t noticed, otherwise you would’ve questioned it.

“Oh? You were training too, Bruce?”

“Well, I-” He glanced at Steve. “Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, wanted to get some combat down, just in case I needed it.”

“Considering our last mission, I think we all should.” the super soldier quickly added, sending you an enthusiastic smile, which you had returned. You went to speak again, possibly inquiring as to whether or not they knew where your girlfriend was, but you hadn't had the chance as the pair of them quickly rushed off, muttering something about catching you later, leaving you on your own, once again.

What the hell was going on?

_____________________

Feeling defeated, you trudged your way into your bedroom, just wanting to shower, get into bed and sleep, and hope for some form of normality.

What you hadn’t expected, was to walk in and see the back of a familiar figure sporting the black suit she practically lived in, tying her hair into a low bun and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes.

You were dating, so it wasn’t new to see Nat changing, but you still thought it would be decent to make her aware of your presence. The small “ahem” was enough to make her spin round and flash you a smile, her pearly white teeth on show.

“Hi babe, i’m just changing for bed. You okay?”

The words felt so unfamiliar to you, having not heard them in what felt like forever. Still, you decided to humour it.

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. A bit of a weird day is all.”

She laughed, returning to laying out her clothes. “Well, we are surrounded by some weird people.”

“That’s what Tony said.”

There was an atmosphere in the air that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It had always felt comfortable with Natasha, you would describe her company as being like a safety blanket, enveloping you with warmth and a sense of security. This felt different. It didn’t feel familiar anymore, it was like you were face to face with a stranger and the more you looked at her, the more it upset you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Natasha put her palms on your cheeks, bringing your Y/E/C eyes to meet her emerald ones in the process. You hadn’t realised that tears had fallen until the pad of her thumbs gently brushed them away.

“I just, it sounds so stupid.”

“Tell me.”

You let out a sigh, eyes beginning to dart around the room. “It just feels like I’ve never seen you, I don’t remember the last time we’ve spoken and it’s, it’s been lonely.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your response, lips falling into a frown, but you were quick to speak again.

“It hasn’t just been you though, I understand that work gets in the way, but, it felt like some members of the team were acting differently around me.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Well, I mean, Bruce could barely bring himself to say anything more than a sentence to me and I tried to speak to Steve just before I came here and he rushed off like his life depended on it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a bit paranoid.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Detka, I wouldn’t worry about it.” She whispered, hands pulling you forward with ease to bring your lips together. You smiled at the contact, you’d missed it.

You were so caught up in it, that you hadn’t noticed you were the only one smiling.

It wasn’t long before the both of you were interrupted by an electronic voice in the room.

“Miss Romanoff, Miss Y/L/N.” It was F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Mr Stark is asking for you both in the conference room.”

“Alright, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’re on our way.” Your girlfriend replied, rushing away from the kiss and leading you to the door.

Why was everyone in such a rush today?

_______________________

“So, I was messing around with some things in the lab, and I think I've found a solution to our suit issue. It’s still a work in progress because I'll need to tweak some things and then tailor them blah blah blah, but I thought I'd show you guys the latest. JARVIS?”

“Bringing up footage 182.”

While you waited for the video to be up and running, you took note of everyone sitting around you. For the most part, they looked tired, though you don’t blame them, it was pretty late.

Shuffling to your left, you held Natasha’s hand in yours, sending her a loving gaze before resting your head on her shoulder, just content that she was close by. She sat a little straighter at the action, careful not to push you off of her, but not entirely relaxing either.

The large tv screen lit up, a view from the corner of the lab came into sight where you could see Tony installing different wires and pieces of loose metal into the suit, watching it light up as he did so. He was in the middle of explaining what he was doing as the recording went on, when the screen suddenly turned to static, black and white lines taking over the screen.

“JARVIS?”

“Minor technical issue, working on it, Mr Stark.”

You caught Wanda’s eye across the table, a playful smirk plastered onto her face at the mishap, watching the billionaire get stressed over a television. You couldn’t help but laugh at the words flying from his mouth as he started hitting the remote, as if he was someone who didn’t understand technology.

It wasn’t long before an image appeared back on the screen, however, this wasn’t the same recording. This is from the gym. It focused on one of the square mats in the middle of the room where two people were sparring. One of which, you immediately recognised as Natasha.

The other person definitely wasn’t a girl, their hair was short and muscles so big you were worried that one slice would be the end. It zoomed in a little, and from the blonde hair and dark blue outfit, you pieced together who it was.

“Oooh, Black Widow and the SuperSoldier, one vs one. Now this should be interesting.” A previously tired looking Sam clapped his hands and leaned forward, now fully invested in the scene in front of him.

You turned to Nat, who now looked a little paler than she did before.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, don’t tell me, you lost this spar?” You joked, expecting her to join in and tease you back. Instead, her face displayed an emotion you weren’t entirely sure of.

Before you could question it, you noticed the room fall silent. Not even a breath could be heard in the room. Your head turned slowly, meeting a mixture of shocked and sympathetic faces. And that was when you saw it.

Nat had kissed Steve, and he didn’t stop her.

If you weren't aware of your heartbeat before, you couldn’t be now, for it felt like it had completely stopped. Your jaw fell as your eyes filled with tears, only worsening the longer you saw the two of them on the screen. It was only turned off when a third person walked into view, not needing to ponder on who it could be, you immediately faced guilty stares. Three of them.

“You- you kissed-” You stuttered, incapable of forming a sentence towards your teammate. “And, you knew?” Your voice broke, tears now beginning to find their way down your cheeks for the second time as Bruce couldn’t bring himself to answer you.

You swiftly rose out of your seat, attempting to keep yourself composed until you could be alone.

“Baby-” Natasha murmured, trying to take hold of your hand, which you snatched back before she could lay a finger on it.

“Don’t.”

“Please-”

“Leave me alone.” You spat, speed walking out of what now felt like an overcrowded room.

You didn’t hear it, you’d left too early, but if you had stayed, you would’ve heard the team give Nat and Steve the scolding of their lives, mainly from Wanda and Tony, telling them how disappointed they were in them both. How they’d be lucky if you were to forgive them for what they did.

________________________

You don’t know how long you’d been sitting on your shared bed for. It could’ve been an hour, it could’ve been a couple of minutes. All you knew, was that you couldn’t stay in this room much longer, looking at the picture frames and the shared wardrobe, it just felt painful.

So, you walked over to your wardrobe and gathered every item of your clothing into your arms, lacking any care for if there were hangers or labels in the way, and chucked them on the bed and started to chuck it all into a suitcase intended for holidays but, you don’t see that happening anytime soon.

The sound of sniffles and rustling was all you could hear in the room, so much so that it was suffocating, and it didn’t help when you heard the door creak open.

“What are you doing?” A voice squeaked. Natasha stood beside the door, fidgeting with her fingers as she anxiously bounced from one foot to the other. You didn’t even bother to look up in her direction, focusing solely on getting out of there as soon as you could.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean it.” You scoffed at her attempt at an explanation. “I love you.”

That’s what made you whip your head to see her red and puffy eyes, if this was any other situation, you would’ve rushed over and engulfed her in a hug, tell her that everything would be okay and you’re there for her. Now? All you felt was anger.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed him.”

“I didn’t know-”

You stood up straight, almost laughing at her choice of words. “You didn’t know? Bullshit. I’m pretty fucking sure everyone is aware when they kiss someone. Did you know when you were kissing me then? Or did you not know that either?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I don’t think I care.”

She tries to step closer to you, only for you to take one back, holding your hand out, indicating for her to stop.

“No. no, you know what Nat, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like a stranger for weeks, like I'm sharing a bed with someone I don’t know, for you to then kiss someone else and expect me to forgive you. You have no idea how I've felt these past weeks, blaming myself and thinking I was selfish for wanting your time. It’s funny, really.”

She looked away from you, regret taking over her features, both of you now having tear stains covering your rosy red cheeks.

You broke the silence once again. “Was that the first time?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Y/N-” She pleaded

“Answer the question, Natasha.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence returned to the four walls.

“Get out.”

“No, no, we-” She stepped forward, only to halt herself when she realised what she was doing.

“There is no ‘we’. We’re done. I’ll have my stuff moved back into my room by tonight, though I'm sure it won’t make much of a difference to you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Whatever.”

She walked out of the room, hesitating slightly, wondering if it’s worth staying and trying to figure out whatever this is. She shook her head to herself, knowing she’d fucked up. There wasn’t a fight anymore. It was done.

Collapsing on the bed, the feeling washed over you again as the finality of it all set in. You didn’t stop though. You packed your clothes, your perfumes, all of your loose hair ties and left the room with only one thought on your mind.

Natasha won’t even notice the difference.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova

#Natasha romanoff #Natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha x reader #Natasha romanoff x Y/N #Natasha romanova #Natasha x fem!reader #Natasha romanoff angst #Natasha angst #Black widow #Black widow x reader #Marvel #Natasha romanoff imagine #Natasha romanoff oneshot #Natasha romanoff fanfiction #Natasha romanoff smut #Natasha romanoff fluff #Natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years ago

Text

Find Me Again

Wanted to write smth for Pyramid Head since I’ve always loved the big guy!!!

Summary: In an attempt to escape your ex, you crashed the vehicle you two were in. Instead, you wind up in a place that burns and smells of ash. You find an unlikely ally, and beloved companion amidst the nightmare and come to fall in love with that metal-headed executioner. But you wind up separated, only to come back to him in a new game, a new world, hosted by a spider-legged God. Or! In which you and Pyramid Head are a thing in Silent Hill and you get sent back to the outer world. Trying to hunt down Silent Hill again only to find yourself in the realm of Fog. And soon to meet an old friend again.

!!!Minors and ageless blogs do not like or reblog as this is an Adult work, please respect my boundary!!!

Reblogs > Likes! Please Reblog if you leave a like :D Esp if you wanna part two!

Fandom: Dead by daylight / Silent Hill

Relationship: Pyramid Head/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, canon typical violence, mentions of a virginity kink and corruption kink, Pyramid head man handles you (consensually), Reader is gender neutral and ambiguous, implied past abuse from readers ex

Words: 5k

_________

This wasn’t your first nightmare, but you sure hoped it was your last.

This world had rules, it seemed. Fairly simple. A god-like being called The Entity wanted you all to play its twisted game. Even being fair enough to allow you Survivors to come back in one piece. Despite the agony of its spider-like claws and the hook impaling into your backs, forever leaving a scar.

You weren’t helpless, none of you were. It was a fair game laid out. Get out, figure out if you were going to go back and save your teammates, or figure out if escaping was more important. Run from the killers that played your group like you were a sport for them.

Hunters chasing game.

In terms of high stakes, you like to think you’d had worse done to you. You’d been in a dark, foggy world once. You'd assumed it had been on accident as you inhaled the ash-filled world with your head spinning.

~Rest under the cut~

Your ex had not been the kindest, putting it lightly. A sick person they’d been. Gaslighting, abusive, not afraid to get physical with you. You two had been driving. And you remember just being so scared, suddenly so overwhelmed with this fear as they’d spoken to you. Telling you that you were really in for it when the car stopped. Words that sounded like a high shriek in your ears from your fear.

You’d taken the wheel then from their hands, whipping it to the side in the hopes of crashing the vehicle. Unafraid of the death you had expected.

Instead, you’d woken up in an unfamiliar place. Black and white, the taste of ash heavy in the air. You were a bit dizzy getting out of the car, grunting with the effort to shove the door open. Coughing from the taste of the smoke coming from the vehicle.

It’d taken you a minute to get away from the flaming car, only for you to realize that your partner had not been in the car. Their door long since open and their body nowhere to be found. The only hint they had even been there had been the blood on the glass and the footsteps in the ash.

Your heart pulsed in your throat as nausea took over, your eyes looking towards the ground where footsteps were left in the ash beside yours. Tracking towards your window before leaving towards the nearby abandoned town.

Your lips had quivered, your eyes darting towards the street in the hopes you could simply walk back into the woods where you’d remembered you two were. But to your horror and confusion, the bridge had been totally demolished. Disappearing into a thick fog just past its creaking, swinging metal.

So that led to you having to stand up on wobbly legs and find your way into the town. Feeling your hands shake as you watched the footsteps in the ash slowly disappear into nothing nearby a building’s alleyway. As if they’d been taken by something invisible.

The sirens had come later in the day when you’d found a group of women who were screaming at you and calling you impure. A witch. When the black and darkness had taken over, the world decaying around you and these women running for a church-like building, you realized then that this was not a normal town. That this had to be a nightmare, a dream, some sort of other world.

This couldn’t be happening.

That’s all you could think when you heard this god-awful sound of screeching following the siren. A man with a pyramid-like structure had come from seemingly nowhere. His walk wobbled with the sword he was dragging across the ground- something you could only imagine was unbelievably heavy. He seemed to have a vendetta, a path towards the women who were screaming ‘Demon’, ‘Devil’, and ‘Executioner' at the being heading right for them.

You don’t think you could get the image out of your eyes of him picking one up off the stairs of the church and peeling the flesh from her body like a banana. And though he never spoke a word, in your heart you knew he thought this was a way of ‘cleansing’ her. Of removing someone who could hurt something he defended.

You think you had more to fear than just your ex lurking around here.

At some point, you realized this was no longer you trying to find a way out of the town, but rather trying to survive. No one was your friend as far as you were concerned. And anytime you heard those sirens you knew nowhere was safe. The church, assumingly, was safe from the Executioner running around. But anywhere else had more of those creatures.

You learned pretty quickly to avoid the hospitals after getting an eyeful of nurses and far too many cuts on your arms that you worried would become infected. Learning to avoid the Executioner- but not because you had met him.

But because you could see what he could do.

What if he had thought you needed to be cleansed? That’s all you could imagine whenever you caught even a peek of him. How he could lift you up effortlessly and grab your flesh, peel it right from your muscle and toss you aside like yesterday’s trash.

And then one day had come the ultimate decision.

Your ex had found you, and you felt nausea overcoming you in a wave when you’d seen them. Realizing that even in this strange world, that for once you had felt free. Free from the fear they gave you, free from the pain, free to laugh at your own jokes that you told yourself.

They’d practically snarled at you, grabbing your arm and starting to yell at you. Making you feel small all over again as tears welled up in your eyes. Fear making your lips quiver and not having the strength to shake them off.

You remember the loud sound of the siren, how your ex had gone silent as the world began to peel away and fear settled into their eyes. You remember the terrible screech of the blade on the concrete.

You remember for the first time since you’d gotten there, that your first instinct wasn’t to run away.

The pyramid-headed being that you had come to mentally call the Executioner was at the end of the road. You didn’t think as you’d broken from your ex and gone running for him instead, despite the yelling behind you. You remember thinking you didn’t care if that great blade came slamming onto you, or if he’d take you and skin you like he’d done that woman. You just remember thinking-

You just remember thinking...

Anyone but them. Anything but them.

You remember sobbing your eyes out when you’d gotten in front of him. How the Executioner had paused and cocked its helmed head with a loud, groaning creak. You expected the pain, you begged for it, blubbering and not one of your proudest moments. The fearless feeling you’d had when you’d grabbed the steering wheel returning to you. You just wanted to get away from them-

And the blade had slammed down.

Right next to you.

A slow crouch, a kneel of one of his legs and that same groan echoing from his helm. A dirtied hand had cupped your chin, tilting your head this way and that as you sobbed hysterically. Tears poured down your cheeks as you pleaded for him to kill you. Even going so far as to take that large hand and pull it off your chin, sliding it down to your throat where your lips could only form the words and no sound could leave you.

It had all happened so quick. One second you were pleading this Executioner to end you, and the next you’d heard that terrible creak and watched him stand. You wanted the pain, closing your eyes tight and steeling yourself for it.

But instead, he’d kept walking.

Walking right past you and towards your ex.

That same sound you’ll never forget. Of them screaming your name in fear for once. And how, for once, in that moment, you felt a sick sense of glee. To not be the one full of fear, to not be the one standing there in terror and waiting for the agony that was to come. To not be the one wondering what hell would come the next day, but too scared to leave for something worse that would come.

You didn’t watch. You didn’t need to. Not with the screaming and the sounds that echoed behind you.

You expected him to come back and finish the job. After all, maybe he liked the idea of tormenting a soul. Instead, you’d opened your eyes when you heard his heavy breathing to see him standing before you, a hand outstretched to you and almost this confused groan echoing from that pyramid.

You’d taken his hand that day and followed where he led. It’s as if he took a protecting role over you, not allowing anyone else to touch you so long as the world was blackened and decayed. When the world was made of ash, you took your chances in exploring, hoping to find some answers to this world, something that would make sense so you could help in some form or another.

You learned he was a protector, originally to a little girl. And that the women you’d met were a part of a cult that believed them to be the sinners. Specifically, that the little girl had been a witch. More and more information being found led you to believe that because you hadn’t done anything wrong in life, that you weren’t actually supposed to be here.

You guess it was due to you being in the vehicle and causing the accident. But the cause was for good reason, not simply because you were trying to kill someone for the hell of it. That’s what you had come to the conclusion of, at least. Something you open up about when Pyramid Head- something you fondly referred to him as- comes around once again when the sirens go off.

You think he understands when you speak. Though he couldn’t speak back, he could nod or shake his head, making slow gestures with his hands until you could understand him in turn. You still remember feeding him a can of peaches for the first time, watching this long tendril come out and wrap around the whole thing of peaches and zip it underneath his pyramid. The loud crunch of metal heard and yet no knowledge in your mind that he even had a mouth.

You had been there for about two years trying to figure out how to get out. Two years was a long time, and a long time to share time with another person. You’d ended up falling for the big guy, taking comfort in his touch and offering him what you could only assume was the first gentle touches of his life. Kissing his hands, helping wash them, kissing his helm and feeling unafraid if its edges cut your lips.

You’d gotten bold with him. Feeling your confidence that you used to have before you had been with your ex begin showing itself again. A bit flirty in nature.

Sometimes you’d take his hands and wrap one around your throat. Murmuring how he wouldn’t hurt you unless you asked for it. Always delighting in that low sound that would come from him. The low groan and how his fingers would twitch before sliding down your neck and shoulder to squeeze you fondly and keep walking.

Memories of how he’d lead you to showers to cleanse yourself, of feeling his hands on you, of being able to taunt and tease him. You learned quick of his thing about corruption, anytime you found a new outfit of white or reminded him of you being untouched. How his breathing would become heavier, his hands a bit rougher on you, or his loud groans and growls when he could only thrust between your thighs without ever entering you.

Taunting and teasing a being known as a Devil and a God around these parts may not have been your smartest thing to do, but damn if you didn’t get off on the power trip of it. Similarly getting off on how gentle he could be if you warned him to be. How those large hands you’d seen rip people apart would caress your hips with unknown gentleness.

Finding your way out had happened on the second year on accident. Someone had come into this place you’d come to know as Silent Hill. A detective sent to find you and your ex who were deemed missing persons; One of your friends had called it in, telling them that your ex was a danger to you and that you could be found dead and not just missing.

You aren’t sure how the detective found a way out. You remember screaming when he’d taken your hand, ushering you out with him as you’d tried to rip yourself from him. Hearing the loud groan following the sirens overhead. You never even got to see him again, the world all fading to white so quickly.

They labelled you with Foul Play in the end when you’d finally gotten out. They also labelled you delusional, the investigator telling you that you suffered from Stockholm syndrome for the ‘beast’. Not that they believed him either, they labeled him delusional. He was told he’d heard too many of your stories and therefor unfit for the job since he agreed with you. That he couldn’t separate fact from fiction.

What a mess your life had been after that. Each night lying awake in tears because you never got to say Goodbye. Always wondering if Pyramid Head ever thought someone finally had gotten to you before the sirens had gone off and he could find you again.

You had decided to do traveling after that, maybe feeling foolish trying to find your way back into the town. And one night, you thought you had. You thought you’d heard those sirens, feeling a fog washing over you and feeling a sharp glimmer of hope.

And then you’d woken up here, at a camp site with your new found ‘Survivors’ who worried over you and consoled you when you broke down into tears. But not at having to survive another nightmare, no.

That you hadn’t found your way back into the first one.

At least there were people here who sort of understood what you’d explained and the agony that came with it. Some of the Survivors had taken to mingling with the Killers when the designated time came around. The Entity liked the pain of those in love having to hurt each other, but some couples liked the chase. Feng and The Doctor as an example, or Kate with the Huntress. They didn’t get pain from being chased, they liked it.

When the time came for mingling on that one week of every few months, some Survivors would leave to the different realms. Disappearing into the fog in the hopes it would take them to where they wanted the first time. Whether to spend time with a loved one, or to taunt. Some Survivors stayed behind- Quentin and Laurie never left, for fear they’d wander into the fog into the arms of those who craved to do worse than just kill them.

And then one day, Cheryl had come into your camp.

She talked of a school, of a world that tasted of ash, of the creatures with terrible faces. Of the cult-like people she had come across, the death and decay, losing her father-

And a horrible monster that chased her with a groaning triangle upon its shoulders.

You felt your breath still as a few pairs of eyes glanced to you. Your eyes flickered over her, and she must have caught the recognition in your eyes because she’d looked at you with a breath of relief. “You’ve been there too?”

“Yeah,” You managed to croak out. “Was there for a long time, kiddo.”

You bond with her quicker than any of the other Survivors over this. She’s a kid, you learn, just turned 17 not long ago. She’s been through more hardship than anyone her age should have ever faced and you can’t help but feel a sibling-like bond with her. She’s here for a reason, you know, just like all of you. Her surviving qualities were high, her determination just as so.

You bond over what you both had seen, and you admit that the being Cheryl couldn’t figure out if he wanted to protect her or destroy, was someone you had loved just the same a long time ago. You explain your side just as she explains hers, explaining that she might have been the same child he was set to protect, but something good. Maybe not even her own person. She tells you of her pain and confusion, tears spilling down her cheeks as you hold her through it.

You don’t ask her who her designated Killer was. You’re not sure if you want that sort of hope, nor do you want to open any wounds for her.

Like all the Survivors do for the others who join, she’s given explanations and tips to this twisted game. Cheryl insists she’s been through worse, throwing a look your way that makes you feel awful that you knew exactly what she meant. At least in this game of chase, there was always a guarantee to come back, some sort of rhythm to it.

In the world where you two had seen the stuff made of nightmares, you can understand her confidence now. But she’s just a kid, something a majority of all of you look around at each other and to Quentin who was just a teenager himself as well.

When the games begin again and four survivors are chosen, taken from the camp where they shall awaken in a realm they may or may not be familiar with, the rest of you carry on as normal. You lie awake most nights, feeling this strange feeling in your heart as if someone or something was calling you.

Recently you’d been having fitful nights of rest, but not quite nightmares. Where the world tasted of ash, and yet the world was calm all the same. Flashes of metal, flashes of blood, flashes of large hands caressing you and hearing yourself gasp, followed by the low groan of metal.

Sometimes you dream of him. The Investigator’s words of Stockholm syndrome curling in your mind. Even as you dream of how gentle he’d been with you, hands running over you, bringing you cans of food that he found, or even comics or stuffies to entertain you. Memories or dreams. Dreams involving things you never got to do or say. Of where his hands wrap around your throat and you beg him to squeeze harder.

Your current dream is a little different.

You feel like your body is being run through syrup, hard to move your limbs or have any control over them, but you’re walking. The whispers of the Entity and its voice that sounded of 20 people with varying emotions calling to you. It taunts you, as it had taunted many others.

Normally this meant it was choosing you for an upcoming match, preparing you to put on your fighting spirit.

And yet, the whispers come to a halt all of a sudden. The loud groan of metal and the screech of a blade upon the ground, biting into unseen concrete. You can’t speak when doors open in front of you, the blinding light outlining a silhouette. An...awfully familiar one at that.

Your lips part to speak, but nothing comes from you. And when you go to step forward again, you watch the giant metal pyramid atop his shoulders turn for you. A loud groan as it tilts to the side in a hard gesture, one he’d always done to you. You can’t help but smile, outreaching without thinking about it, only to watch in puzzlement as he seems to be glowing a strange orange. The blade suddenly looking more menacing with a slow shake of his pyramid of metal and the blade curling in his grasp to be pointed.

Right at you.

Your eyebrows knit, confused, trying again to call out to him. Your hand outstretches again, and you’re aware of the cage-like bindings around you. Your heart crushing all at once as he suddenly charges you and the blade raising high above his head-

You awake before it makes contact. Gasping as your cheek is set on cold concrete in a dark room full of desks. You sit up with a startle, your head whipping around you in the quiet, only able to hear the shake of your own breath.

You hear once last final whisper of the Entity, a cruel murmur of, “Have fun. And do not forget to thank Us.”

The world comes to you slowly as you’re able to get up, aware of the breathing to your right and look over to find Claudette waking up as well. You two make eye contact, and she scrunches her brows in confusion. A silent question of where you were. You look around with her, swallowing thickly at the sight of decay and hearing the all too familiar loud sound of a siren ringing around you.

You look back at her again, your expression possibly reading all she needs before she’s making a gesture for you to lead the way.

The Entity liked toying with its new survivors and killers alike, bringing familiar surroundings to them. For you, it had been the hospital you had been kept at when they deemed you unfit for society. And it seems like for Cheryl, her unhappy place had been the place you had even tried to go back and search for. Though you knew the school wouldn’t be how you remembered it, nor would it be for her either. Hooks would be placed, new dead ends, twists and turns with only one monster walking about.

You swallow hard, wondering if that dream had been a threat, a warning, or some sort of prediction? If...If your Protector was in here with you, did the Entity change his memories somehow? Or did he not remember you at all anyway? Was there any guarantee what he thought?

What if he did remember, but held a grudge and thought you had abandoned him?

You were so uncertain. Your hands shaking as you work on the wires of the generator with Claudette on the opposite side of you, following the gentle hum of it coming to life. You two work through it pretty well, no increase rate of your heartbeat, no strange humming, no sign of the Shape with how quiet it was.

Nothing.

It’s...eerily quiet, and you’re unsure where the other two are.

With a pop and a click, the lights crank on and the generator is complete. You both stand, sharing a look without words to start working out your next approach.

Then it happens.

All at once, you feel the thrum of your heartbeat increase, watching Claudette share a look with you. She holds a finger to her lips, pointing at the stairs to imply she thinks whoever it is had to be upstairs. You make a motion for her to go ahead on without you.

You watch her nod and head down the hallway into the thick mist to either find teammates or another generator.

You feel foolish as you stand by the lit generator, feeling...You're not entirely sure, hope maybe? If that dream had been some sort of prediction, maybe you could live with him not recognizing you if it meant you could finally tell him you were sorry. To explain you never meant to leave him, that you’d been forced to. That no one understood your desire to find that wretched place again.

That you couldn’t find your way home.

To your left is a long hallway, to your right is the lit-up generator thrumming to life. Your back is to a wall, your eyes on the staircase and feeling your throat tighten. Your body screams at you to run, to hide, to stop being so foolish.

But when he comes down those stairs, a groan to the familiar metal atop his head, and a sword clicking off each staircase? You can’t help but feel relief course through your veins and your lips trembling as they part. He seems dead set on a hunt, a mission towards your generator, before the pyramid atop his shoulders seems to tilt towards you.

All at once, your Protector stops at the bottom of the stairs, looking directly at you with the point of his pyramid aimed at you. Your heartbeat feels like it’s in your throat, your breath shaking and your legs feeling like jelly under you.

Your eyes flicker to the Great sword still with its tip upon the last staircase, but they quickly go up to the pyramid when you hear the low groan of it tilting.

“Hey, big guy,” You croak out, your voice sounding hoarser and thicker than you wanted it to. You watch as his head tilts again, subtly and with yet another groan, his hand gripping tighter on the hilt of his blade.

You swallow thickly, feeling the tension in the air and almost sensing his confusion. “I’m right here, do you remember me?” You start again, your voice wavering just as your eyes betray you and dot with tears. Emotions overwhelm you, and you’re sure the Entity is getting off on its curious desires to see such a dynamic like this. Where agony coursed through you, confusion, mentally begging to see anything on him that said he did remember you.

“Please,” You whimper out, feeling your knees wobbling and your body unable to turn and run. Held perfectly still like a deer in headlights.

He takes a step forward, and your knees finally give out under you as you slide down the wall with tears spilling down your cheeks. Only feeling more pathetic as he comes closer and closer with each slow step.

“Please,” You whimper out again, more desperate as you tilt your head up towards him when he stands in front of you. Your neck strains at this angle, your eyes blurred with tears. You don’t feel scared, you only feel what could only be described as yearning. Longing for this man. Like as if you had been but a teenage romance and one of you had to move away, finally seeing your other half again and feelings coming rushing back.

“Please,” You choke out. Pyramid Head has stopped in front of you now, the low metallic groan heard as you blearily see him through your tears. You reach for him with shaking fingertips, your breathing heavy in your own ears and your heart rate increasing.

You expect your dream to come true. For his great blade to come slamming down onto you or for him to toss you over his shoulder and drag you kicking and screaming to a hook.

You don’t expect his gloved hand to delicately take your outstretched hand.

You tense, waiting for him to yank you. But instead, his hand clasps over yours, his thumb running over your knuckles. You manage to blink your tears away, your breath shaking and looking at him in awe. He has no face to show emotion, not even a voice, but you can feel it in how he touches you. The same way you looked at him.

Disbelief. A dream. Not real.

You’re yanked to your feet and it makes you yelp. But before you can even react, he’s yanking you upwards and over one shoulder. One hand firmly grabbing your ass and the other doing the slow drag of his blade across the ground.

You don’t...feel endangered. Perhaps that is foolish of you, but all you can really concentrate on is how Pyramid Head feels. Seeing the lines of his back through his apron flexing with each step and each press of his fingertips against your ass.

The Entity had told you ‘Have fun and don’t forget to thank us’. Now you think you understand what it means when you are taken to a room and set on top of a desk.

You don’t have to wait for him to do anything before your legs are wound around his waist, taking his hand that grabs onto the curve of your side and guiding it up your body. You press his fingers around your throat, delighting in how you can hear the sound of his metallic groan have an edge of a growl into it. “Did you miss me?”

The press of his hand tells you enough. You give off a breathy, delighted laugh when his hips hump forward against yours. A desperate sort of groan leaving him when you reach up to hook your fingers under the metal of his pyramid and jerk him forward. Gently pressing a kiss to the pointed tip.

“Made you wait long enough, I think. Wanna take me, sweetheart?” You murmur out to him. Another breathy laugh leaving you when Pyramid Head’s hand falls from your throat to grab your hip instead to try and jerk you closer. As if trying to fuck you through your clothes as his hips hump against yours.

Desperate. Wanting you. His sword clattering to the floor so both his hands can grip your hips to try and yank you forward with a low groan.

“Thatta boy.”

You were definitely in for a fun match. Not to mention you save your fellow Survivors some sweat and tears.

You just hope you won’t be too loud...

#Pyramid head #Pyramid head x Reader #Silent Hill #Dead by daylight #dbd #dick by daylight #nsft #lemon #princess writing

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

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Twisted 26 - Blood On My Name [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, guns.

Word Count: 3000

Summary: No one can run away forever.

There were some days when you just knew it wouldn’t be easy for you, and today was one of them, that was for sure. It was as if after seeing how Spencer had managed to charm your family the other night and how everything was going well in your relationship, the universe had decided to throw in some difficulties to make it interesting.

For starters, you had forgotten to buy coffee the day before so you couldn’t even have your much needed caffeine. After managing to get rid of the sleepiness with a very cold shower and getting ready, you left your apartment to get to your car, and that was when the second problem hit.

It wouldn’t start no matter how much you tried, so you had to take a taxi to your office.

And as if all that wasn’t enough, Spencer had decided to call you with some bad news as well.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined, pressing the phone to your ear as you paced in your office, “Spencer, please tell me you’re not leaving me alone at a party I didn’t even want to go to in the first place!”

“Trust me, I don’t want to.”

“You have a case,” you felt the need to repeat, “Today of all days.”

“We’re flying there in ten.”

You heaved a sigh and plopped down to the couch, nibbling your lip.

“I’m really sorry,” he said softly, “I swear I’d be there if I could.”

You sook your head, “No, don’t be sorry,” you murmured, “I get that. It’s your job. Besides, it’s probably a life or death situation if they called you guys there.”

He hummed in agreement, “Probably,” he said “But are you going to be alright?”

“I mean I’ll probably drink a lot,” you tried to joke, “And miss you for the whole night.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he confessed, “They’re sending some agents to make sure the copycat doesn’t try anything at that party if they even show up, but… Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“When am I not careful?”

He scoffed a laugh, “Do you want a list? Because I think it’d be a long list.”

“I’m always careful!” you protested, “Also, given our occupations it’s kind of ironic to hear this from you, I’ll have you know.”

You could almost hear his smile, “Just promise me.”

“I’ll be very careful,” you said, “Cross my heart. Besides, it’s Nolan’s company, professor. No one can walk there with any weapon, it’s a security company remember? Even I am leaving my knife at home.”

“Just don’t go anywhere alone, be in the crowd for the whole time—”

“Make sure to stay where security cameras can see me, I know.” You finished his sentence for him, “It’s not my first rodeo. Relax boyfriend, it’s just one boring party. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Don’t say that,” he warned you, “Bad things happen when people say that.”

“I didn’t take you for a superstitious type, professor.”

“I’m not,” he said, “I just don’t want to take any chances. It’s already bad enough that I won’t be there.”

“You’re telling me,” you said, “I was hoping we could hook up somewhere in there, it’s a huge building.”

You heard his chuckle, “You’re incorrigible.”

“Well it’s always Mina and Kenzie who have fun in these things, for once I want to have fun too!” you defended yourself, “Besides, don’t pretend like you don’t like it.”

“Hey, I said nothing of the sort.”

“Reid, come on.” You heard Luke’s voice and Spencer sighed.

“I should go,” he told you, “I love you.”

A smile warmed your face, “I love you too,” you said, “Go save some lives.”

You hung up, then ran a hand over your face, slumping on the couch.

“Y/N?” your assistant knocked on the glass door of your office before peeking her head in, “Hi, are you busy?”

“Not really,” you sat up straighter, “What’s up?”

“You wanted me to remind you when it’s time for lunch,” she said, “Also I sent your dress for tonight to your place, the front desk will get it.”

“Thanks,” you checked the time and stood up to walk to your desk, “Damn it, I’m going to be late.”

“I also called the mechanics, but they said it would take two days for it to be fixed.”

“Today just gets better and better,” you muttered and she tilted her head,

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hm?” you looked up, “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine, it’s just one of those days. Since the morning everything is going bad, and I was hoping my boyfriend would be with me at this party, but he had something to do so…”

“Maybe he can change his mind?” she suggested, “See, I had this boyfriend once, and he said he wouldn’t show up to my birthday party because we had this huge fight, but then he showed up anyway.”

“Oh it’s not like that,” you shook your head, “There’s no fight, he’s just not gonna be in the city tonight.”

She scrunched up her nose, “That sucks.”

You scoffed a laugh and grabbed your coat and your purse, “It’s fine. Where are we on the Riley wedding flower arrangement by the way?”

“All confirmed, she says she loved it,” she said and you smiled.

“Thanks,” you said as you walked to the elevator with her following you, “I’ll be back in an hour, okay? Have a nice lunch.”

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lincoln said as you sipped your rosé, looking around the restaurant you two were having lunch in, “How did you even break down your car?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“When was the last time you took it to a mechanic to get it checked out?”

“When I bought it?” you said and he let out a chuckle.

“So you have no car for tonight?”

You pulled your brows together, “Tonight? How did you-?”

“You know we run in the same social circle right?” he said, “My dad’s company also does business with Nolan, of course I’m invited. That being said, I wasn’t sure if I would show up, but since here you are, begging me to help you—“

“I’m just eating my food here.”

“I can drive you there,” he finished his sentence as if you didn’t interrupt him and you tilted your head.

“I can just take a cab,” you said, “Or mom could send a car, it’s fine. You don’t have to.”

“Consider it my thanks for your unrequited advices on my relationship.”

“Oh you need more advice?” you perked up and he rolled his eyes.

“No.”

“You made up with your girlfriend then?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You really need to go to Italy for a surprise visit,” you pointed at him with your fork “That’d be incredibly romantic.”

“Is that right, love doctor?”

Your jaw dropped, “Come on, when have I ever failed you with my advice?” you asked, “If you love this girl, you need to show her that.”

“I’m just gonna play it cool.”

“That’s a terrible idea!” you said, “I know you’re not the romantic type, but you need to at least make an effort!”

He shot you a look “I’m a romantic.”

“Bullshit,” you let out a laugh, “You might be the most emotionally distant person I’ve seen after me, and you’re telling me you’re—“

“I believe that some people are meant to be,” he cut you off, “No matter the circumstances. Consequences be damned, anyone who thinks otherwise doesn’t deserve to be in love. I think if you’re in love, you should adore that person every day, and be there for them for better or worse. Whatever sacrifice it takes.”

You blinked a couple of times, shock coming over you, “Linc…”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the woman I love,” he told you, “Trust me. Nothing at all.”

You just gawked at him for a few seconds before you put your fork down.

“I stand corrected,” you muttered, and he grinned at you.

“Yeah, how does it feel to be wrong?”

“Oh shut up,” you said and stabbed your salad once more, ignoring his laugh.

By the time your lunch with Lincoln was over and you got back to your office, your fingers were itching to text Spencer. Reminding yourself that he was probably busy, you managed to suppress the urge and waited for the elevator doors to open.

Erica was already waiting for you by the door and you let out a whine.

“Don’t tell me,” you said, “You have bad news because today has a grudge with me.”

“I mean it’s not bad, but I figured you’d want to know.”

“Give me some good news, like you saw a puppy today or they named a whiskey after me or—“

“Your mother is waiting for you in your office.”

“I said good news, Erica.” you reminded her and made your way to your office before you opened the glass door to step inside. Your mother looked over her shoulder, sitting up straighter on the couch.

“Hi honey.”

“Hi mom,” you walked to peck her on the cheek, “What’s up? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need help,” she said and you hung your coat, placed your purse on the coffee table, motioning at one of the interns for coffee before you leaned back to the table.

“Sure thing, what is it?”

“How do my nails look?” she held up her hand and you pulled your brows together.

“That’s what you need help with?” you asked “You do realize that this is why we have phones?”

“No, I wanted to talk face to face for my next question.”

“Ah, I won’t like that question will I?” you hissed in a breath, “Your nails are fine by the way.”

“It’s just that, I don’t know when Nolan will propose so I booked my nail artist for a month.”

“I want to have your problems,” you muttered as your phone buzzed and you checked the screen, then touched the text message.

From: Spencer

The power of Love borne in my lady's eyes

imparts its grace to all she looks upon.

You couldn’t help the wide smile pulling at your lips as you skimmed Dante’s lines, then thought for a moment and typed in:

See that you bless the day that I took you captive; it is your duty to do so.

“Y/N!”

You lifted your head, “Hm?”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you lowered the phone as the intern brought you two cups of coffee. You thanked her, then turned to your mother, “It’s just… Spencer is out of the city again, that’s why— never mind. What did you want to ask me?”

“I think I have an idea about Nolan’s proposal and this…potential marriage.”

You cleared your throat, “Uh, sorry. My client list is full.”

“Nobody buys that excuse honey.”

“I mean can you blame me?” you asked, “You would be the worst bride I’ve ever had to deal with, no offense.”

“First of all, I’ll just have a cocktail, not a wedding,” she said, “It would be inappropriate to have a wedding, considering our ages.”

“Mom!” you protested, “That’s not a thing! Anyone can have a wedding, fuck what society thinks.”

“Very delicately put, but I’ve made up my mind,” she said, “That’s not what I came here for. I decided, I want to be with Nolan and spend the rest of my life with him. So I will say yes when he proposes.”

“A surprise to no one,” you grinned and she shot you a look.

“But considering what people would think, I feel like I need to make a schedule. Do you happen to know when Spencer will propose?”

The coffee you were drinking went down the wrong tube and you started coughing, but your mother sipped her own coffee, patiently waiting for you to stop.

“Say- say what now?” you asked and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Yes, I was thinking I could stay engaged to Nolan until after your future wedding.”

“Mom we’re not— I’m—“ you stammered, “That’s not happening.”

She tilted her head, “Oh don’t be nonsense, you’re in love. Very obvious to anyone who has eyes, he couldn’t stop looking at you throughout dinner the other night.”

“Yeah but….” you cleared your throat, “I don’t think he’s planning anything like that.”

“Well—“

“I’m not going to ask him if he’s planning anything like that,” you cut her off, “I don’t live in Victorian ages, neither do you. I told you, you can get married to the eccentric billionaire puppy with a bowtie whenever you want.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Unbelievable.”

“Right back at you lady.”

“If Nolan lets you know about when, you will tell me okay?”

“I doubt he’ll let me know, he looks like he’s got it covered.”

“And you’re still planning my cocktail party when the time comes.”

“Mom, no!” you let out a whine, throwing your head back, “Please don’t do that to me. I’m your daughter, you’re supposed to love me!”

“I do love you, that’s why I don’t trust anyone else with my wedding except for you.”

“Don’t trust me,” you said, “I’m begging you not to trust me. Planning Mina’s wedding was bad enough, you’re even a bigger control freak than she is—“

“Y/N.”

“I say that respectfully!”

She put her cup of coffee on the glass table, then stood up.

“Just remember, I absolutely hate carnation flowers and polyester gives me a rash.”

“Why does God hate me?” you wondered out loud and she kissed you on the cheek.

“I’ll see you tonight honey,” she said and walked out of your office, ignoring your overly dramatic whining. You buried your face into your palms, letting out a groan.

“I really should’ve drunk something heavier than rosé.”

***

You had picked this dress thinking Spencer would like it, and now that he wouldn’t be there with you, you were two seconds away from changing it. You heaved a sigh, looking in the mirror before you fixed the tulle floor length skirt of the pale pink dress and pulled at the long sleeves adorned with lace. The small screen by the door lit up as it started ringing and you walked there to touch it, then told the doorman that he could send Lincoln upstairs when he told you he was there.

Soon enough, the doorbell rang and you opened it.

“Hey,” you said, grinning when he did a double take and blinked a couple of times.

“Wow.”

“Bad wow?”

“Good wow.”

“Why thanks Linc, you clean up well too. Come in!” you stepped aside so that he could enter the apartment and he looked around as you closed the door.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks,” you said and checked the time before you went to the kitchen island. “You’re early.”

“And you started early,” he nodded at the wine glass on the kitchen island, making you shrug.

“I just have one e-mail to check for confirmation, then we can go.”

“No rush,” he said, leaning back to the wall as you looked at the photos of the wedding venue for your newest client, swirling the wine in your glass.

“You want some?”

“Nah, not yet,” he said, “Work stuff?”

“Mm hm,” you mumbled, “She describes the venue she wants as boho-glam so it’s going to be pretty tough for me to find a lot of options.”

“Your job is definitely more fun than mine.”

“My job is harder than yours,” you pointed at him and he scoffed.

“How is that?”

“Have you ever dealt with an angry bride?” you asked him, “You wouldn’t last a goddamn second. Just the other day, one of them tried to make me give her a list of her wedding dress options too, the one thing I’m not responsible from.”

“I mean can you blame her?” Lincoln asked, “You obviously have a good taste, look at yourself.”

“Aw thanks Linc,” you hit send, and closed down the laptop lid before you reached for your wine glass to take a sip, taking a step towards the coffee table.

“Yeah I’ll almost feel sorry for Spencer for missing it.”

It took you a second. For a second, it was all good and then you stopped dead on your tracks, a shudder running down your spine as your brain comprehended what he just told you. You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms as you put the glass down, your back still turned to him.

“I never told you I was dating Spencer,” you managed to mumble through frozen lips and he chuckled.

“No you didn’t,” he said, “Erica told me. Family dinner with Spencer, it was on your schedule the other night.”

Your thoughts were like a tornado in your head as your heart started slamming against your ribcage and you turned to him, your eyes finding potential weapons you could use all around the room instantly and he tilted his head.

“So I know that there are about fifty things in this room you can attack me with,” he said, “But just so you know, if you try anything, your niece goes down. You don’t want your precious Lily to have an accident, do you? Because I don’t either.”

That red haze clouded your vision for a moment as your jaw clenched.

“I’m going to kill you,” your voice didn’t even sound like it belonged to you anymore, it was way too cold, way too calm, the shock leaving its place to fury roaring through your veins. A manic smile pulled at Lincoln’s lips and that dangerous gleam which you had seen multiple times in your father’s eyes appeared in his eyes as well before he took a step towards you.

“I missed your fire,” he said as if he was in awe, “So much. It’s been a torture to keep my distance from you. But honestly, Petal,” he tut-tutted, then reached behind him and pulled out his gun to point it at you.

“You should’ve known better.”

Chapter 27

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #twisted #spencer #reid

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afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years ago

Text

Bratty

Summary: Chris didn’t like being ignored.

Pairings: Jealous!Daddy!Chris x Black!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Daddy kink, arguing, reader slaps Chris, slight sugar daddy vibes, swearing, jealous Chris, PR stunt, wall sex, oral (female and male receiving), reverse cowgirl, riding, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, creampie, name calling

Tagged: @titty-teetee , @harrysthiccthighss , @iam-laiya , @mariahthelioness29 , @night-of-the-living-shred , @liquorlaughslove , @blackmissfrizzle , @stargazingfangirl18, @whiskey-cokenfanfic, @olyvoyl , @zaddychris

(A/N: Knocking out these WIPs by combining some WIPs. Like, reblog, enjoy and all that jazz.)

No one knew about your relationship with Chris. He was the hot guy that every girl around you wanted. Girls were always trying to shoot their shots. You hadn’t done much, but ignore him a few times when you started being friends with his brother’s boyfriend and somehow that ended up with him asking you out. From then on, you’d been a part of a very intense sexual relationship.

Your friends didn’t have an idea. Sure, they knew you were at the very least fucking around with someone. Somehow you managed to get away with not disclosing who anytime they bugged you about it. Your friends were great, but you couldn’t exactly trust them to not tell everyone and their mothers. It wasn’t even like they’d be doing it maliciously, but the scandal it’d be if people had found out that you and Chris had ended up together would be astronomical.

This is why you were able to save face when you saw another one of those publicity stunts with him and some actress. They were Hollywood’s hottest couple. Gag. You couldn’t even go to the grocery store without seeing pictures of them all over at checkout.

Whatever.

You were Y/N L/N. You didn’t need him anyway. You didn’t have time for fuckboys. No matter how good looking or rich. No matter how good he dicked you down in bed.

So, why did it hurt so bad.

Again, it’s not like Chris was your boyfriend. Did you even have the right to be upset? If anything, it hadn’t been more than a booty call. You wiped your tears quicker than they could fall because why the hell were you even crying. He wasn’t even worth it. Deep down you kind of knew this was always going to happen. The man was a commitment-phobe. If he really wanted to be with you, he would’ve made it official months ago.

So, you tried to not think about him. Even if you had to see him every time you went to the grocery store. Even tuning out your mutual friends. Then threw out those stupid forever flowers he’d bought you. You could pawn the jewelry, at least. Maybe give the clothes to charity.

On second thought.

You’re keeping the clothes. Those Chanel bags were staying firmly in your closet. Someone could pry those Christian Louboutin heels out of your cold dead hands. Okay so maybe you were more like a sugar baby than anything else. You needed to stop trying to figure out what you even were because who cares fuck him.

Either way it still stung.

Fuck it. You could go on a Chris Evans diet. You didn’t need him.

Hey baby I’m back home

Let’s get dinner tonight

He’d texted you as you were getting ready. It’d been almost a month since you’d heard from him. Maybe his girlfriend dumped him or his agent told him he didn’t have to play along with what you were sure was a stunt. It didn’t matter. You were no one’s second best and you had a date tonight. With someone that actually wanted to not play games.

Your palm itched because you wanted to text him back so bad. Wanted to tell him to leave you the fuck alone. Except you were trying to go cold turkey. Instead you muted his contact before finishing your hair.

The dress you were wearing was one he’d bought you and so were the shoes you wore. Not that he cared, but it felt more fun to use the stuff he brought when going out with someone else. You knew that it would have at least gotten under his skin. Your date was some guy your bestie kept trying to push on you.

He was cute enough. Made good money. In the back of your head, though, not that you would ever say it out loud he was no Chris. You weren’t sure any other man would be able to do you like he did. To fuck you so hard that you forgot your own name. How he’d get you into all these crazy positions. How he spanked you and made you call him Daddy.

You shook those thoughts away. You didn’t need him.

Anyway, you’d gone on like two dates with Devin. He was okay. You liked him so far. You weren’t really expecting much to come out of it, but you were having fun with him. At least he texted you back in a timely fashion.

There was a knock on the door so you went to grab it seeing your date on the other side.

You’d been trying this new thing. Where you didn’t kiss to quickly or have sex to soon. Which you’d told Devin your boundaries right off the bat. Dinner was nice. He was cute enough anyway.

Your mind kept wandering to thoughts of him which was annoying. You didn’t want to think about him. You wanted to feel like you were living in a post Chris Evans world.

When he took you home you could tell he was trying to kiss you on the lips. You turned your head at the right moment so he got your cheek. You weren’t surprised that he tried to.

As you were getting ready to take off your shoes and retreat to your room, happy that your roommate was spending the night at her boyfriend’s so you could spend the rest of the night walking around naked there was a knock on the door. You groaned as you looked through the peephole and then backed away seeing the man you were trying to avoid on the other side.

Your stomach turned and suddenly you wanted to throw up your dinner. Maybe if you didn’t make any noise he’d go away. “Y/N, I know you’re in there,” his Boston accent was so thick.

You took out your phone, going to his contact. Seeing all the messages. Then the final one.

I’m coming over

He’d of course been in your apartment before. Sometimes when your roommate had gone to visit her family or stayed with her boyfriend, he’d come over. You’d end up having sex all over just because you could.

“Open the door!” He said. You didn’t want your neighbors to think you are crazy. So, you did. Anything to get him to stop.

“Are you crazy?” You asked in a quiet voice. “My neighbors can probably hear you.”

He pushed passed you with his face all red. “Who the fuck was that guy?” He asked.

Your heart started to race. Stick up for yourself. Like you do in your head. Tell him you’re tired of his shit and tell him to leave.

You took a deep breath before finally opening your mouth to speak. You could do this. “I was on a date,” you finally said with your head held high.

Chris quirked his eyebrow. “What the fuck? Why?”

You shrugged still trying to maintain your composure. Cool, calm, and collected. “Why not? You go on dates with other women. I haven’t heard from you in a month and you think you can make demands?”

He clenched his jaw, scoffing at your words. “That’s work and you know it.”

“Did work tell you to fuck her? To ignore me for a month.”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t know shit, Y/N.”

“I don’t care. I saw you! Every time I went on Twitter. Every time I went to the fucking grocery store, I had to see stupid tabloids with your stupid faces on it.”

He pursed his lips and sighed. “Look-“

“Did work tell you to wait a fucking month before texting me? Oh, hey let’s go out for dinner,” you mocked him. “After ignoring me for a fucking month! Like fuck off!”

“And look you hopped on another guy’s dick quickly like a fucking slut.”

You’d never laid your hands on someone before, you always felt like you were above that but you gasped and before your brain could even think you’d already slapped his face. Tears welled up in your eyes when you realized what you’d done. “I’m so so so sor-“

But before you could finish what you were saying, he cut you off with a kiss. He slammed you into the wall before lifting you up with one arm and wrapping his hand around your neck. “Think you’re in charge here. I was about to apologize, but you just couldn’t shut the fuck up, huh.”

He pushed up your dress so you were completely exposed to him. It didn’t take him very long for him to undo his pants. Before you knew it, he was pushing into you. Your head lolled back as he started fucking you. Not even giving you the chance to push him away.

You hated how good he felt. How his thick dick made you not even care anymore. You just wanted it. Wanted him. Needed him to fuck you.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you moaned.

“That’s right. I’m your Daddy.” He hissed. “I’m your fucking Daddy.”

You bit your lip as he moved you into the wall. Like he was about to fuck you through it. “Right there,” you gasped as he started fucking into your spot. Right where he knew you liked it. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“See you naughty little slut. You fucking like it.” He was pounding into you.

You nodded trying to move back against him because you still needed it. It’d been two months since you’d last had sex with him. “Yes, I love it.”

“Yeah. You love Daddy’s dick?”

“Yes!”

“Say it. Fucking say it.”

“I love Daddy’s dick.” You moaned trying to keep your voice low so no one could hear you.

He hissed before letting out his own moan. “Louder, Baby.”

“I love Daddy’s dick,” you cried.

“Fucking louder. I want your fucking neighbor to hear you.”

“I love Daddy’s dick! I love Daddy’s dick!” You said a little louder as you tightened around him cumming all over his thick dick. He carried you over to the back of the couch, still stuffed inside of you.

He leaned you over the back of it so that he could kiss you. Thrusting in and out of you. It hurt so good.

He suddenly pulled out of you, grabbing your waist so he could make you turn around. Chris started kissing down your back getting on his knees pushing you up so you were leaning over. He finally tugged ag your panties ignoring the rip that he’d put in them as he pulled them off of you.

His tongue went to your pussy as soon as possible, licking and sucking up all the juices that were there “Fuck,” you mewled. “Don’t stop.”

He swirled his tongue around inside you. Licking you like he was making out with your cunt. His hands came up so he could jiggle your ass.

You started rubbing your clit. Needing to touch the nub because it was like it was throbbing for attention. He smacked your hand away as he started doing it himself.

His fingers were rubbing you so good. His mouth working at the same time. You could feel your orgasm so damn close. Chris didn’t let up until finally your drippy little pussy was gushing as you came hard. He wasted no time in standing up and pushing into you.

Your face felt flushed as he started moving into you again. Chris was never satisfied unless he made you cum so many times you were begging him to stop. Even then he might push you a little because he loves how whiny you get when you’re over stimulated.

“Did you let him fuck you like this?” Chris slammed his hips into you. Needing to keep fucking you as rough as he could.

“No,” you whimpered.

“Just me, huh. No one else could do this to you.” He smacked your ass leaving a stinging pain behind. “Bet you didn’t even let him hit it, huh.”

“No,” you answered.

“Why?”

“Because no one fucks me good like you.”

He chuckled clearly getting some amusement out of your desperation. Before he could cum again, he tore away from you leaving your pussy clenching on nothing as he grabbed your neck so he could take you to the carpet.

He signaled for you to get on you all fours and you thought he was going to make you suck his dick until he got down beside you. He grabbed you hard so he could put you into position. Grabbing a throw pillow to place on the ground before pushing your head into it.

The anticipation of whatever he was about to do was scaring you. Your body trembled as a reminder of the two orgasms he’d forced you through so far. He grabbed both your arms, holding them behind your back so your face was kind of dependent on the pillow that was about to be stained with your makeup for balance.

Oh, he was about to destroy your cunt.

The first thrust was so deep your body tried to pull away before you could even think about it. “No. Don’t you fucking run from me. You take it.”

The only thing you could do was take it since he was holding your hands behind you. He was violating your pussy and there was nothing you could do about it. You gasped with each thrust not being able to even wrap your head around how deep he was. You could feel him in your stomach.

It was like this switch in your brain had turned off. All you could do was think about how much you needed Daddy’s dick. All you could fucking do. You wanted to be his bitch. Wanted for him to own you. You needed him to never ever stop.

“Oh, no. Did I fuck you stupid, Little Girl? Your stupid little brain couldn’t take it?” He sounded so condescending and it only added to how far gone you were. “Who am I?”

“You’re my daddy,” you whispered.

“I can’t hear you.”

“You’re my daddy,” you whimpered. You bit your lip, burying your head into the pillow because fuck you’d just buy a new one. Your roommate would understand.

He moaned seeing how fucked out he’d gotten you. In the same way your mind had slipped into the subspace, he felt him hit this feeling where he felt so dominant. Like you seemed so small compared to him and what he was doing to you. He reeled in these moments.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cried because right when you announced it, it hit you so deep. Your pussy juices cascading down his length. If he wasn’t stuffed inside of you, you would have probably made a mess everywhere.

Your eyes rolling to the back of your head. It felt so fucking good. Tears sprouted from your eyes and you knew you probably looked as messy as you felt.

“That’s it, Baby.” He let go of your arms, seeing how far gone you were. He pulled out of you so he could pull you into his arms. He cradled you bringing you close. “I’ve got you.” He kissed the side of your head as you cried softly. Your eyes were glazed over from how hard you came.

You sniffled burying your head into his chest. He kissed your nose before getting up with you in his arms and sitting you on the couch. He helped you pull your dress over your head because until then it’d just been bunched up. He undid your bra next so you’d be more comfortable.

“You need some water?” He asked.

You nodded, but didn’t let go of him. You needed him to be close. He chuckled, standing up with you still in his arms as he walked to the kitchen. It was fine he could hold you and get you water at the same time.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

“What is it, Darling,” he whispered kissing the top of your head.

“I need you.”

“I’m here,” he sighed as he carried you back over to the couch. He brought the glass of water up to your face helping you take a sip. “That’s a good girl.” He set it down on the side table. “Need anything else?”

“I need to pee.”

He chuckled. “Well I can’t help you with that.”

You took a minute in the bathroom to wash your face so you could wake yourself up a little. The night was far from over. You knew that. He was just nice enough to let you take a break.

When you walked back into the living room, he was right there stroking his still hard cock. Your poor Daddy. You’d left him like this. As soon as you got closer to him you got on your knees, ready to take him into your mouth like a good slut.

He licked his lips as you got leveled with his thick cock. “It looks so yummy,” you said, before licking the underside.

He groaned, bringing his thumb to your cheek. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck Daddy’s dick.”

You got to work. Slobbering all over him. You wanted to leave another mess on him. You could taste yourself on him and it only made you want to work harder.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, eyes hooded as he watched you. It was such a pretty sight seeing you on your knees before him. Your mouth worshipping his dick. “Did you suck his dick?”

You shook your head, looking up at him with big eyes. You held your tongue out as you bobbed your head up and down. He could feel the back of your throat every fucking time. Then you went all the way down his dick disappearing into your mouth completely. Your soft lips around him while your throat felt like it would swallow him whole.

“God damn,” he moaned, putting his hands in your hair so he could pull you off and then shove it back in. He fucked your throat and you let him, gagging on him sometimes, but still trying to be a good girl and take it. You didn’t want to let your daddy down. “That’s it, Bitch. You’re a good girl. You knew better than to fuck someone else, huh?”

You hummed around him, nodding your head. “Mhm.”

“Even when you’re a little fucking brat you know this is daddy’s cunt.” He groaned. “Daddy’s mouth. You’re fucking mine. You hear me?” You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him as he yanked your head up by your hair. “When I ask you a question you fucking answer me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

He grabbed your face before slapping your cheek. “Who owns this pussy?”

“You do.”

“See, that’s a good little slut.” He grabbed your hair so you’d have to lean up to kiss him. He made you stand up then turned you around so you’d have to sink down onto his cock again. You yelped as he stretched you out all over again.

His legs were spread wide as he started to move you up and down his length. Fuck he loved watching your ass as you rode him in reverse. You twerked on his length and watching your ass shake like that with your pussy full of him was so damn sexy. “Fuck, Daddy.”

See, perfect. Where the fuck else was he going to find a girl that let him do such depraved things and twerk on his cock while also calling him Daddy then thank him for it.

“Did you kiss him?” He suddenly asked, suddenly feeling irritated all over again. He fucking hated that you even thought it’d be okay to go on your little date.

“He just kissed my cheek,” you answered honestly.

Even the thought of that was enough to make him mad. He pushed you off of him, turning you back around so you had to climb onto his lap. “Don’t you ever, ever, ever pull some shit like that again.”

“I’m sorry,” you moaned.

You heard the keys in the door and he got up quickly so he could get you to your room without your roommate getting an eyeful of either of you. He closed the door, locking it behind. You put your head against his chest, laughing. He chuckled before kissing your forehead. “That was a close one,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry you haven’t even been able to cum.” You giggled.

“It’s okay we got all night,” he said, smacking your ass.

There was a knock on your door and you groaned. “Um,” your roommates very clearly amused voice came from the other side, “as glad as I am that you’re moving on from the asshole that broke your heart, can you please keep it in your room.”

You scrunched up your face before looking at Chris who did not share your roommates’ sense of humor at the moment. “Sorry,” you said through the door. “I thought you’d be gone.”

“I will be. I just forgot something,” she replied. “Have fun with Devin.”

Chris slammed you down onto the bed. You purse your lips before trying to back away from him. “Just wait for when she leaves. I’m tearing this ass up,” he threatened.

And he did because as soon as you heard the front door close, he started pounding into you again. Spreading your legs wide open as he fucked into your cunt.

“Want me to cum in you?” He asked. “Fill you up?”

“Yes,” you cried.

“Look at it,” he grunted grabbing your hair again so he could force you up to watch his dick go in and out of you. “This is my cunt. Don’t you get forget that.”

“I won’t,” your voice got all whiny again as you started to cum again. This time he started to shoot inside of you giving you every single spurt. “Daddy!”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned himself hips stuttering as he shoved his cum into you.

Finally, as the two of you started to settle down getting you wrapped up in your blankets, he laid next to you to pull you into his arms. You were breathing heavy as he kissed your face. “You better break up with him,” he said so sweetly.

You groaned softly. “Chris... you still did what you did.”

“I promise nothing happened. It was just for the photo op.”

“Yeah, but they’re going to keep thinking something is going on because you don’t want to make things official with me. If you can date so can I.”

He groaned. “Is that what this is about?” He asked. “You need to hear the words?”

“It’s bigger than that. It’s about you respecting me.”

“I do, Baby,” he replied. “Fine. Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

“Yes.” You poured before kissing his lips. “Was that so hard?”

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s just that I thought you were already my girlfriend and that you just wanted to keep a low profile.”

“Oh...”

“And I wasn’t ignoring you. I broke my phone and wasn’t able to get one right away,” he said. “If you hadn’t been dodging Scott’s calls, he would have told you.”

“Well now I feel like a jerk.”

He sighed. “It’s alright. I should head home, though.”

“Why?” You poured.

“I don’t want Dodger to be alone all night,” he replied. “Wanna come?”

You nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Okay, but on one condition.”

You huffed. “What?”

“First of all, lose the attitude,” he said. “Second, you gotta breakup with David.”

“It’s Devin,” you corrected him.

He gave you a very pointed look. “I don’t give a shit. Breakup with him right now or I’ll spank you.”

You groaned tossing your head back. “That’s so mean we literally just went out.”

“I don’t give a shit. Break. Up. With. Him. Now.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes.

After getting ready to go, he made you sit down on the couch so you could write your message. “Can’t I call him? It feels less mean.”

“Either you do it right now or I will,” he said. “Keep complaining and I’ll make it worse.”

He looked over at your shoulder as you typed before snatching it out of your hands. “Chris!” You protested.

“You took too long.” He shrugged before standing up, pulling you into his arms. “See isn’t that better?”

“You’re mean.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you how mean I can be when we get to my place.”

#Chris Evans smut #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x black women #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x woc

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colorfulbard · 4 years ago

Text

Hopelessly devoted

Summary: Things between you and Levi got weird ever since you saved him.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Warnings: Fluff and some angst(?)

Words: 4.6K

A/N: I got this idea from a tiktok a while ago, can’t remember the user. Yes, I know the title is very cliche, I thought it was cute.

~~~

The uncomfortable mix of sweat and blood was a common feeling most scouts got used to, but not you. To you, it was probably always going to feel bothersome like an itch you couldn't scratch. Not like anyone really blames you, even if the blood evaporated the feeling of it somehow always remained. With an annoyed groan, you grabbed the handkerchief from your pocket and attempted to wipe excess blood that remained along with sweet off your brow.

You sighed at the sight of your now dirty handkerchief and leaned back against the tree. It wasn't a good idea, but you decided to close your eyes even if just for a moment. Ever since the destruction of wall Maria, there had been no expeditions outside the actual walls. At the moment, all there was to do was figure out ways to plug up the holes and exterminate titans skulking around.

Those extermination missions have proven to be tiring considering the way almost felt yourself falling asleep. You shook off the sleep and opened your eyes to look down at the handkerchief again. There was quite a bit of blood on it now thanks to you. You stowed it away back into your pocket with a chuckle. He wasn't going to be too pleased to see the way you dirtied it.

"Y/N!"

You automatically stood at the sound of your name. Nearing your line of sight, you recognized someone from Levi's squad. You squinted to try and make out their appearance. Your eyes returned to their normal state when you recognized it to be Petra, making her way towards you at an alarming speed.

Your brows furrowed as she landed in front of you with a worried expression. "Is everything alright?" You asked, not giving her a chance to speak. It shouldn't be too much of a cause for concern considering Petra was always one to be a tad nervous, but something felt different this time.

After taking a quick once over of her, you noticed the edge of her cape was wrinkled. Most likely because she had been wringing it between her fingers. That was something you recognized to be one of her nervous habits. However, you'd never seen her do that during a mission. It was clear that whatever was happening was probably serious.

You placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a comforting look as if to will her into talking. She seemed to appreciate it and took in a deep breath before speaking, "we got separated from the captain and can't find him anywhere," she said, choking up on her words.

You rose a brow at her. Levi was a smart man, he was most likely fine. Besides squads get separated on missions all the time, you were even separated from your own at the moment. Miche was usually never concerned when you did either way.

Petra should have enough faith in her captain to know that by now. "I don't understand..." You took a moment to think, "why is this a cause for concern?" You inquired.

"Before the expedition, we distracted him and I don't think he ever got the chance to do maintenance on his gear..." She trailed off as her words got caught in her throat. The edge of her cape was getting more wrinkled as the seconds passed.

"So, you think there's a chance it could've malfunctioned?" You asked. Your eyes couldn't help but widen in surprise. Even after being apart of the scouts for years, it seemed like there was a first for everything. Even if it had to do with someone as meticulous as Levi.

"I'm not sure," she responded, "I can't remember the last time he did maintenance on it." Her gaze shifted down to the ground as if to try and remember.

You nodded, "alright go inform the commander and Mike of the situation. I'll go and begin searching-" you grabbed your handgrip- "after that, join your squad and continue the search," you instructed.

Petra nodded, "we already sent Eld to inform the commander," she assured. She was about to pull her trigger until she turned back to you, "thank you, Y/N."

You gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her shoulder. "No problem and try not to worry," you said, "I'm sure he's fine, we just have to be quick." With that said, you pulled your trigger and jumped down once the anchor sunk itself into a tree.

Once your horse was in your sight, you reeled back your anchor and landed next to it. The landing wasn't your best, you stumbled a bit, but there wasn't time to think about that now. You quickly mounted your horse and kicked your feet back to coerce them into running.

It felt like you had stopped breathing the moment you were able to pull your thoughts together. In hopes of saving time, you hadn't even bothered to let yourself properly breathe. You'd have to thank Petra later for telling you, you knew she didn't have to, but it was still nice that she thought of you at that moment.

After taking a deep breath to expel the nerves slowly forming in your gut, you willed your horse to go faster. Clearly, the words you had said to Petra weren't currently working on you. It wasn't as if you had no faith in Levi. It was more so that you had no hope that fate would be kind to you at this moment.

Taking deep breaths wasn't helping all the intrusive thoughts coming up. You couldn't even blink properly without horrific images flashing behind your eyelids. You tried to shake them off and pushed forward. This was Levi you were thinking about, he had to be okay, right?

How troublesome could this expedition get? Not only did his gear malfunction, leading him to slam his body into a tree, but he also had a rough landing causing his leg to break. At least, he assumed it was broken, even if he could walk a little. Not that it mattered at the moment considering there was nothing around.

Even with all these odds stacked against him, Levi was never one to give up so easily. Which willed him into attempting to use his gear about five more times to no avail. He groaned under his breath in frustration, "damn it..." He grumbled.

As much he would like to put the blame on an inanimate object, there was no point. There was no one to blame, but himself. Levi had been apart of the scouts for so long, you'd think maintenance would be second nature to him. He should've been more attentive, even if his squad was hammering with dumb questions. So much for that being one of his more exceptional qualities.

Levi supposed he should count his blessings. So far, everything was quiet. That calming thought lasted for about five seconds before he heard a loud groan in the distance. His eyes widened to see a titan slowly making its way towards him. "Just my luck," he cursed at himself.

No point in sitting around like a wounded, helpless animal. Levi knew he still had a chance to survive, even if it was slim. He took his blades to prepare to hopefully kill it. The titan's eyes narrowed in on him at the sound of his blades being unsheathed.

"Shit, so much for thinking it was already looking at me." He knew it was a curse to think this, but could it get any worse?

As if the titan could comprehend what he was thinking, it began crawling towards him at an alarming speed. Levi grit his teeth as it grew closer and closer. "It just had to be abnormal, didn't it?" He asked himself.

Levi looked down at his legs and his posture slacked, no point in running. He wouldn't get very far and would have to deal with wondering when the ugly fucker would get it over with every second. That meant the only thing left to do was try and fight back. He gripped his blades and thoughts of why he was fighting came to mind.

The first thing was him being known as humanity's strongest, meaning he had a duty. No telling how everyone would react knowing their strongest soldier died. The next, everyone he had grown close to in the scouts. Just imagining their devasted faces brought a sour taste to his mouth. Lastly, you.

Levi was usually never one to get sentimental in moments like this, but he couldn't help it. If there was a chance these were his last moments, it'd be nice to be thinking of you. All of those private moments together just simply enjoying one another's presence. You truly were good to him, always assuring him that those moments were enough and that there was never a need for an actual date.

You knew how awkward he can be when it came to public displays of affection and never gave him shit for it. You truly were a blessing in his eyes. Too bad the last time he would ever see that blessing was in his memories.

Once the ugly thing came close enough, he reared his arm back to prepare to take out its eyes. However, it seemed like there was no point in even trying. The titan didn't even get a chance to come within six feet f him before it went limp.

"Levi!"

There it was, the familiar voice of his savior. You stood from your knelt position at the titan's neck with a wide smile at the sight of him. "You're okay!" You exclaimed in relief as you slid off the titan's body. Without even giving him a single second to process your being there, you wrapped your arms around him.

You sighed as you felt him squished against you. "I'm so glad," you whispered in his ear, "I thought I was going to be too late."

Levi brought his arms around you, not even fathoming how you were here. Call him a sap, but you almost looked like a guardian angel in his eyes when you peeked over that titan's head. His grip on you became tighter, happy to feel your familiar shape in his arms. He could gladly stay forever like this, had it not been for this fucked up leg. A groan came from him when he readjusted his footing.

You immediately pulled away at the sound and inspected him. "What happened?" You asked, worried.

He gestured to his leg which was limp. "Gear malfunctioned and I had a bad landing because of it," he explained, "but I'll be fine."

You furrowed your brows, something you always did when you thought he was lying about something. Levi poked a finger between your brows to fix them. "Don't look at me like that-" he began to unconsciously lean into you- "I'm fine. Just need to get back to headquarters."

You nodded and knelt down in front of him. The silence between you two was thick as he stared two holes into your back. "You're kidding, right?" He asked rhetorically. Even he had to admit to himself being carried on someone's back was slightly embarrassing, it made him feel like a toddler.

"It's either this or I can carry you in my arms like a blushing bride," you responded cheekily.

Levi swore he could feel you smirking even if he couldn't see your face. Nonetheless, he relented, it was better than dying at least. Getting comfortable on your back was easier said than done, his shitty leg definitely wasn't helping. Eventually, he got the hang of it and tapped your shoulder.

You gave a nod and stood up, albeit a little shaky, but you managed. Even after getting used to the weight of your own gear, pairing another along with Levi proved to be a challenge. You tried not to let it show, but a pained grunt managed to slip past your lips anyway.

Levi tensed on your back at the sound you made. "Alright let's try something else." He made an attempt to get off, but you tightened your grip.

"No way, I'm fine," you said, your voice rasping. You managed to grasp your handgrip and placed your finger on the trigger, "hold on, it's gonna be an unstable ride."

Levi relented at the sight of your determination and wrapped his arms around your neck. He braced himself as you immediately took off at the feeling of his arms. A few hiccups occurred during your flight, but you managed to land close to your horse without a permanent scratch.

You took a breather once Levi let himself off your back. You bent yourself back to get rid of the ache that was forming. Your little break didn't last long when you spotted Levi limping to your horse. You quickly grabbed an arm and put it over your shoulder to aid him.

"You know, I'm starting to think all that tea is giving you a little extra weight," you teased in an attempt to make light of the situation. You knew he had to be feeling useless at the moment. It always happened whenever he got hurt.

The only response you received was a pinch to your side causing you to squeak. "Ouch..." You whined while trying to soothe it by rubbing it.

"That's what you get for teasing your superior."

You gawked at him. "Wow, you're pulling out the superior card now?" You questioned, "Would you rather I tease you in other ways?" You wiggled your brows at him. He looked away from you and pinched you again.

"Shut up."

Things had been a little odd ever since that day and you were positive you were the only one who noticed. Levi was still out of commission, but that didn't stop him from fulfilling other duties. The only reason why it bothered you is that he was currently using crutches to move around. You were, however, put at ease when you were told his injury was only a hairline fracture.

All of that wasn't the biggest issue though. The issue at hand was Levi was practically hovering over you as if you were the one injured. He never made it obvious in fear of being called out by comrades. You, of course, didn't miss the way he followed you everywhere until he was called away to do something important.

His hovering only got worse whenever you were asked to assist in Hange's titan experiments. There was also the issue of him getting weird headaches at random times of the day. You usually caught him suffering from them when you returned from different errands. You tried asking what caused it, but not even Levi could figure it out.

After long deliberation, you decided it might be a good idea to get out for a little while. Some time away from everything scout related might be good for him. So, you dragged him along with you to Trost. Fortunately, it was one of your days off so there was no need to convince Erwin to give you one anyway.

Before Levi could bother resisting you had already forced him to mount your horse. You had to come up with a creative solution for his crutch considering it'd be uncomfortable for him to hold onto, plus you were going to make him hold your basket anyway. You managed to tie the crutch onto the saddle and sat behind him to hold onto him. You knew he wasn't entirely opposed to the idea considering he could've shoved you off him, even if he was injured. You smiled when he leaned back against you to relax if only for a moment.

The ride didn't take too long and you quickly dismounted your horse when you reached some stables. You hesitantly held out your arms to assist Levi but judging by the look on his face, he'd much rather fall. You held your arms up in mock surrender and let him dismount on his own, a little clumsily.

The marketplace was a little more crowded than normal. You glanced at Levi to see if he was okay, it seemed like he didn't mind. You linked your arm with his free one and smiled. It wasn't notable on his face, but you could tell by the way he gripped your arm that he was content.

Even if it was crowded, it was nice to see it more lively. After wall Maria was breached in Shinganshina, everyone in Trost had been put on edge. But now, everything seems to have returned to some form of normalcy. Not to mention, more people meant more merchants.

"Should we go see if we can find some new tea leaves?" You asked absentmindedly. Your eyes went from stall to stall, not even paying attention to where you were walking.

Levi hummed. "With all these merchants around there's a good chance we might find something new," he surmised, pulling you closer so you didn't bump into anyone.

You nodded, "well then, we better start looking."

There was so much to see you couldn't help yourself. You barely ever had a chance to walk through markets thanks to the survey corps. It was fun walking from stall to stall with Levi on your arm. It almost made you feel like an old married couple with no worries whatsoever. The thought brought a big smile to your lips.

You glanced at Levi who was busy observing various tea leaves. You knew your life with him wouldn't change with a ring on your finger, but you couldn't help thinking about what it would be like. You giggled as you thought being referred to as Mrs. Ackerman.

"Oi, what are you laughing at?"

You tensed, "uh, nothing important," you said in between nervous giggles.

He rose a brow at you but shrugged it off. Fortunately, his seriousness with tea leaves made him forget of your silliness. You knew he'd be here for a little while and proposed that you would go ahead while he took a moment here. He seemed hesitant at first but nodded nonetheless.

As you walked ahead, the stalls got more scarce. "Oh well," you mumbled to yourself. They were a lot more exciting near the front, which made sense. Too bad there wasn't anything more exciting or rare back here.

You took a final look around and decided to walk back to where Levi was. The sun was beginning to set, so it was best that you went back to headquarters now anyway. Before you could even take another step, something grabbed your basket and tugged you back.

You grunted and landed back against something hard. You glanced behind you and saw a man standing there, his hand grasping your basket. You rose a brow, "I'm sorry, did you need something?" You asked, slapping his hand away.

He yelped in response and frowned at you, "is that any way to treat a gentleman?" He asked.

"Well, when a so-called gentleman grabs a lady without her permission, yes," you responded, crossing your arms.

He chuckled at your words, "how cute-" he grabbed your wrist- "don't you know that ladies should use kinder words when addressing a man." You could feel his grip was tightening.

"I could've used cruder words than that, sir," you sneered, tugging your wrist free.

Your choice of words only did more damage and excited him. "Oh, how crude?" He asked while laying a hand at your waist, "wanna tell me?"

To Levi, it felt like no time had passed as he stood at the same stand looking over various teas. Looked like coming to Trost wasn't such a waste after all. He managed to find tea leaves he'd never tried and his favorite. Now all that was left to do was locate you and go home.

The longer he walked the more he began to wonder how far you could've gotten. He knew you had a tendency to wander, but he never thought you would've gotten this far. Levi practically made it to the end of the market when he overheard your voice.

"I'll tell you when titans fly!"

Levi blinked as he processed the words you spoke, that's definitely you. He rose a brow before he caught sight of you. You were currently fighting off a man who had a tight grip on you. He immediately frowned and got ready to toss his crutch into the man's direction. He stopped his actions when you kneed him in the crotch and elbowed his back when he knelt down from the pain.

You huffed and straightened your clothes. You continued to frown until you spotted Levi standing a couple of feet away. The frown melted away into a smile and you waved at him. "Levi, are you all done?" You asked, walking up to him and taking his arm again.

Levi couldn't help but blink at you again. You rose a brow at his silence, clearly wondering what was wrong. "You just kicked him in the balls without a second thought..." His words trailed off, unsure of what else to say.

You chuckled, your brow still raised. "Of course, what else was I supposed to do?" You asked rhetorically, "now, come on. Let's go home." Your grip on his arm became tighter as you began to walk.

Before Levi could even take a single step, he flinched and gripped his head. That same familiar ache came back and once again, he had no idea what the cause of it was. These headaches were becoming a nuisance and he didn't know how much more he could take.

He could feel you staring at him, even with his eyes shut tight. He just knew your brows were furrowed, concern shown on your features.

"Levi, are you alright?" You asked, laying a hand on his head.

All he could do was nod in response. The pain was still making his head feel like it was throbbing, but he didn't want to continue making you worried. So, he pretended everything was fine and peeled his eyes open. He noticed you let out a sigh of relief when he did.

Everything would be fine as soon the both of you returned to headquarters. Fortunately, everything felt like a quick blur while walking back towards the horse and riding back to headquarters.

The moment the horse stopped he didn't bother waiting for you to help him and jumped down on his own. Levi ignored the small twinge of pain he felt and walked to his room as if nothing happened. He hadn't even seen the concerned look on your face as he did.

Later on, at night, you thought you would be able to speak with him. As soon as you had gotten to your shared room earlier, he had holed himself up in the bedroom. You figured he wanted to be left alone for a little bit based on the headache he had earlier. But, now, you assumed he had enough time to himself and walked in with tea in hand. You thought you might get him to relax a bit with some.

"Levi?" You asked softly, shutting the door behind you. "Are you alright?"

The only response was a small grumble. You sighed and walked over to his side of the bed where he laid. You watched as he perked up a bit at the new smell, it was the new tea leaves he had bought. With a small smile, you placed the cup on the nightstand and sat next to him.

"Levi, talk to me." You placed a hand on his leg, "I'm worried. You've been in here since we got back in silence."

Speaking of, the silence was suffocating. He wasn't looking at you, you couldn't tell if he refused to or if the only way to soothe the headache was to cover his eyes. You sighed again and moved your hand from his leg to get up from the bed.

Before you could fully get up his hand caught yours, stopping your actions. You looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I'm sorry..." He sighed while squeezing your hand. You rose a brow at his apology and sat back down. You remained quiet and waited for him to explain.

Levi's grip on your hand tightened as you watched him grit his teeth. You knew he was trying to find the right words to say. You moved your hand around to rub your thumb over his knuckles to soothe him. He seemed to slowly relax with the motions as he stopped gritting his teeth and became less tense.

The silence continued dragging on, so you decided to give him a gentle nudge to persuade him into talking. "For?" You asked.

Levi took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was nervous about what he had to say and you had no idea why. His grip on your hand tightened again. "For not being able to protect you," he admitted, "I'm so useless like this." He gestured to his leg.

Your eyes widened at his words. It took a moment for you to get over the initial shock, but once you did you grabbed the arm that covered his eyes to move it away. You don't know if it was moonlight streaming in through the crack in the curtains or your eyes playing tricks on you, but it looked like there were tears in Levi's eyes.

You ignored it for now and placed your hands on his cheeks. You called his name forcing him to look into your eyes. "You're not useless, please don't say that-" you began stroking his cheek with your thumb- "you never say that to me when I get injured, so, don't say that about yourself."

You lowered your forehead to rest against his. "You don't have to worry about me, I can take care of myself," you whispered. "Don't you have faith that I'm strong enough to take care of myself?" You asked.

Levi let in a shark intake of breath as he heard your words. He began to sit up causing you to move away from him. "Of course I do," he replied, "I just... Can't help it." His voice was strained as if it was painful to even say.

"I want to protect you no matter what." He was staring down at his lap. "But when I can't-" he gestured to his injury- "it hurts..." He laid a hand on his forehead.

Your brows furrowed. He was being so cryptic, it was hard to tell what he meant. You couldn't help but ask, "what hurts? Why?" You laid a hand on his cheek to make him look into your eyes.

Levi didn't answer as he stared into your concerned eyes. Based on the inner turmoil you saw in his own eyes, it was safe to say that he couldn't even begin to explain the feeling. You shook your head as a way to tell him that he didn't have to explain. A shadow cast over his eyes when you did.

You let your hand fall to your side and dropped your gaze to your lap. You didn't want to leave him alone with his thoughts tonight, but you weren't sure of what to do next. Fortunately, an answer came unexpectedly.

Levi leaned forward and rested his head against your chest, his hands were on your waist. You welcomed the unexpected affection but froze for a brief moment. Most of the time, Levi was never one to initiate intimate moments like this, but it always made you happy when he did.

You brought a hand to the top of his head when he spoke.

"I'm just hopelessly devoted to you."

You said nothing and continued cradling him close to you with no intention of letting him go. There was no way of knowing if either of you would ever find out what was wrong, but you knew you would find out together.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #aot fanfiction #aot self insert #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #hopelessly devoted

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samstree · 4 years ago

Note

For the reverse trope ask: the soft character comforting the tough character after a trauma

Piece Him Back Together

Part of the reverse trope series.

When Geralt gets kidnapped, it's up to Jaskier to rescue him. Some truths about a witcher's worst weakness come to light.

(geraskier, 2.1k, hurt/comfort, geralt whump, mutual pining, competent jaskier, love confession, mild blood)

read on AO3

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Jaskier lets out a string of curses all the while balancing the weight of two fully grown men with stumbling footwork. He desperately tries to keep Geralt up with a hand on the small of his back but fails to stop the injured witcher from drooping with each step, until, at last, both of them wind up in a heap of limbs by the road.

Geralt lets out a pained grunt and Jaskier scrambles with apologies.

“Fuck, sorry.” The bard shifts Geralt’s bulk with all he can muster and finally settles him on a patch of soft moss under the tree. The witcher hisses as his back hits the bark rather heavily. “Shit, I’m so sorr—”

“You already said,” Geralt interrupts him but there’s no anger in his tone.

“Still. I am.”

Jaskier retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and begins to dab at the mess of blood at Geralt’s temple, wincing when he finally sees how bad the blow is. Blood oozes from the gash, slower than a moment before. The fabric is soaked through and the skin there is still tender.

It’s all witchers’ weakness.

The temple. A blow to the head.

It messes up all their senses and coordination, leaving them in the most vulnerable state. If Jaskier had reached him any later, this might have done Geralt in.

Jaskier lets out a distressed sound at the thought.

“Stop fussing. We need to go.” The witcher, against all odds, remains level-headed.

“No, it’s all right. I knocked out all the guards and servants, along with the duke and his mage.” Jaskier tilts Geralt’s head for a better angle to press the handkerchief down on the wound. “I may have given the two of them a little more than the recommended dose. The lady at the apothecary warned me about the risk of choking with much sleeping potion, urgh, like I give an ounce of fuck if they die a gruesome death or not. It’d be a favor to the town.”

The venom surprises even Jaskier himself, and Geralt lets out a meaningful hum.

“Rest assured, my dear. No one will be looking for us today.”

Up close, Jaskier can feel Geralt scrutinize him intently as if to burn a hole into his face. He meets the amber gaze, the dark pupils still a little blown wide from the shock, but there’s also something akin to relief flowing in those beautiful eyes.

He revels in the silence, observing Geralt in return for further signs of hurt, but finds none.

The witcher relents first, the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So you drugged an entire castle?”

“Didn’t think I had it in me, huh?” Jaskier teases. “The White Wolf, saved by a humble bard and forever impressed by his wit.”

“Hmm.”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up, oh mighty witcher. I’m sure you only needed the rescue because those villains took advantage of your only weakness.” The bard adds his usual dramatic flair into the last two words.

Geralt blinks. Something shifts in his expression, his breathing picking up and his eyes darting everywhere. If the bard didn’t know better, he’d say the witcher is flustered, which makes it all the more confusing.

“Mocking me, are you?” Geralt drops his gaze and tries to shy away, but the bard holds him in place with the other hand. Under Jaskier’s palm, the frame of the witcher’s ear is heating up.

“How am I mocking you? Geralt, even you must admit witchers aren’t all-powerful beings.” Jaskier frowns. “They messed up your head. I know all your senses get muddled when you’re like this. Seriously, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What are you talking about?” the witcher snaps his gaze back to Jaskier, a puzzled crease deep between his brows, which only makes the bard scoff with amusement.

“The head wound, of course. How did they get you? An ambush and a blow to the head, I’m assuming.” Jaskier explains. “How else did you get yourself into a dungeon and dimeritium cuffs? What, are you telling me you walk into their trap voluntarily?”

He rolls his eyes at the offhanded joke but the silence from the witcher leaves the mood heavier. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a denial of what he just said. Geralt is staring at him with an inexplicable look on his face, and these looks are hard to come by these days. Jaskier prides himself in being the best on the continent at reading his witcher, and he has no inclination to break the streak.

“What happened then? Talk to me, Geralt.”

Jaskier removes the handkerchief a little. The gash has stopped bleeding, so he ties it around Geralt’s head carefully to keep the wound shielded, at least until they can wash it properly. His hands stay with Geralt afterwards, waiting for him to open up.

“I—” Geralt purses his lips before continuing, golden eyes meeting the bard in earnest. “They didn’t ambush me, Jask. I walked into that castle unarmed by choice.”

“What?” Jaskier’s jaw drops.

“It’s because—” the witcher scowls. “Because I thought…that they had you.”

It’s like a lightning strike, where their skin connects tingling all the way from the tips of Jaskier’s fingers to a warm pool of fuzziness in his stomach. The air is suddenly too hot so Jaskier decides to put more space between them.

“Oh.”

Geralt chases him ever so slightly before settling back with resignation, his eyes still bare and vulnerable, as if he just revealed the darkest secret when it is only the sweetest thing in a horrible, horrible way.

“A whisper of you being held hostage and suddenly I couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember to check the truth. Couldn’t waste another second.” Geralt hovers a hand near the bard’s face before retreating to his side. “You were right that they got me because of my one weakness, Jaskier. Just not the one you assumed.”

The pounding in Jaskier’s chest is jumping out of his throat. He’s sure he will die within the next minute if he doesn’t speak to ease this ache in his heart.

“Oh.”

He ends up saying dumbly.

“It was too late when I noticed the absence of you. Your voice, your heartbeat, your scent. Nothing. You weren’t in that castle or the cells. All I could hear was silence and all I could smell was blood.” Geralt draws a shuddering breath. “I hoped, when they kept me in the dark, that they were lying about ever having you. That you were nowhere near that damn place instead of—”

The witcher swallows, unable to finish the sentence.

“Instead of,” Jaskier adds for him, “they’d already killed me.”

The tension hangs between them. The bard sits back on the heels of his feet and finds himself at a loss for words for the very first time in his life.

Geralt might be the only person who can force Jaskier through so many firsts in his life. His first time writing a hit song, first time smashing into someone’s face with a lute, first time saving a witcher’s life, and perhaps, first time murdering two evil overlords obsessed with collecting witchers for experiments.

Hmm, it’s not like Jaskier regrets any of these.

Geralt reaches out again, tentative and patient like he’s approaching a spooked horse. This time, Jaskier takes pity and meets him halfway, his thumb rubbing small circles at the sword callouses that he adores so much.

“Say something,” Geralt pleads.

Jaskier swallows a lump in his throat and sniffles to ease the congestion in his nose, his vision blurring in desperation.

“It’s the most words you’ve said in one sitting, Geralt. You’ll have to allow me a moment to figure out what you are saying and, most importantly, not saying.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s you, you know? There’s always something you are holding back and that is often the crux of it. I thought I got good at reading between the lines, but this is…overwhelming.”

With the enhanced healing kicking in, Geralt is looking much better by the minute. The blood dries and crusts over and his eyes almost shining in the daylight, or is it just the emotions within them? Jaskier can’t tell.

“Maybe I can help you. With the hidden words.” Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s fingers reassuringly. He tilts his head in the most endearing way. It happens to be that particular head tilt that Jaskier treasures with his life, the one that manages to always take his breath away.

“I love you, Jask.”

The warm pool of fuzziness in Jaskier’s stomach turns into a bottomless pit, and he’s falling.

And soaring.

“I love you.” Geralt smiles sadly. “In the dark of that cell, it became…ever so clear and so loud that I couldn’t deny it anymore. I love you, in spite of myself. Gods, I’ve loved you for so long.”

Geralt picks up Jaskier’s hand and places the barest touch of a kiss there, his lips chapped but oh so gentle. Jaskier lets out a soft gasp and the tears roll down uncontrollably. The next thing he knows, he’s buried deep in Geralt’s embrace. The sobs choke in his lungs like a dam has been broken.

“I—” Jaskier is amazed to find that their roles have reversed. The witcher has expressed everything but the bard becomes mute. So he takes up Geralt’s role gladly and replies with actions.

Jaskier’s lips are pressed everywhere he can reach: the soft, warm skin of Geralt’s neck, the sharp of his jaw, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He disregards the grime and dirt and kisses Geralt’s uninjured temple, the single most fragile part of a witcher’s body—barring their heart, so it seems. He tucks away a strand of white hair and kisses Geralt’s temple one more time, tasting the salty tang of tears.

When he pulls back, Geralt’s smile is blinding.

He hears Jaskier, even though—

“I still don’t know what to say,” Jaskier croaks, sniffling hard.

The bard rests his hands at the nape of Geralt’s neck and loses himself in the sunlit golden honey, his favorite color in the world and the most beautiful dream that’s ever come true.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Geralt wipes away the wetness on Jaskier’s face with the pad of his thumb. “Master Jaskier, poet, minstrel, professor… Stumped for words and forever impressed by a witcher’s love confession.”

He mimics Jaskier’s phrasing and the bard can’t help but chuckle despite the tears and snout, his hand swatting at Geralt’s shoulder. Jaskier knows he must look so absurd, laughing and crying all at once, but it’s the last thing in the world that matters.

Geralt loves him, and—

“You got hurt because of me.”

The remorse licks up, along with the urge to protect and to care. The sight of Geralt limp and bloody, bound by the wrists in a dark cell is something Jaskier never wants to relive again.

“I don’t care, Jask.”

“I care.”

“Then make it better.”

So he does. Geralt never wavers as Jaskier captures his lips and pours everything he cannot voice into the kiss, drawing a contented moan out of the witcher.

“Does it still hurt?” the bard whispers between one breath and the next.

“A little.”

Jaskier resumes his work and cards deft fingers through silver hair, careful not to nudge the handkerchief. His nails ghost over Geralt’s scalp and scratches gently until a purring sound rumbles deep in the witcher’s chest. The bard giggles proudly.

“Now?”

“Keep going.”

Geralt traps Jaskier between his strong arms devours him with passion, the heat of his body solid and calming.

Jaskier has never thought of himself as a protector, except at this moment with his witcher arching into his every touch and producing those heavenly sounds. The world is too bent on hurting Geralt, too eager to take and take and take from him.

A bard is not a fighter. Jaskier cannot stop monsters from tearing through armors or crossbows fired with ill intent.

But a bard is a lover. What Jaskier can do is heal, is piece Geralt back together with gentle words in the dark and soft lips on the thin skin at his temple.

“How about now?”

They are panting in tandem, the gold of Geralt’s eyes dreamy and out of this world.

“Still dizzy.”

“That’s from all the kissing, you oaf.”

But Geralt begs wordlessly with those wide, puppy-like eyes so openly, and Jaskier’s already non-existent resolve breaks into a million pieces. He kisses Geralt until the witcher melts into a puddle of purring mess, sun-warmed and pliant.

And he kisses Geralt more.

Again and again.

---

Thanks for the prompt. I kind of just rolled with the concept. The twist looks a bit obvious from the beginning, but feel free to tell me what you think. <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @dapandapod @artisanbaguette @birdsflyhome

Please tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #reverse trope #trope subversion #soft geraskier #geralt x jaskier #cw: blood #soft jaskier #hurt geralt #geralt whump #mutual pining #love confession #first kiss #italicized oh #hurt/comfort

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

Text

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

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

“Dearest [First],

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

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

Not that I can blame you.

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

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

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

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

-Yours eternally, Tartaglia”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughed and waved off your concern.

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

“Ouch!”

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

Tartaglia rubbed the spot and smiled sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ii.

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

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

“I thought I might find you here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How could I forget?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kids always say the craziest things unprompted.”

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

“Hey, [First].”

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

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

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

And he intended to do just that.

#childe #yandere childe x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia #yandere tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff #commissions

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