#question x reader x huntress

[earlgreylatte]

2V1

In which you stand no chance against them.

Hal Jordan and Barry Allen

You were going to die. You were definitely going to die.

Writhing against the binds Hal constructed did little to let you escape Barry’s fervent mouth. You lost count on the number of orgasms the speedster ripped out of you, vibrating his tongue and fingers in a way that had you seeing stars. You’re not sure how a training session devolved into the two men trying to see how many orgasms they could wring out of you. This was not you intended your endurance training to go, but you couldn’t deny you were being pushed to your every limit.

Hal, using his ring, had kept you on the edge for what felt like hours, mercilessly teasing you with his fingers, forcibly keeping your body still with his constructs, the only thing you could do was cry and tremble. You nearly sobbed in relief when sweet Barry felt guilty enough to step in, kissing your thighs apologetically before pressing his mouth against your mound, eating you out like a men possessed. But now you were shaking and sobbing for a different reason as the man refused to even come out for air.

“You were so desperate earlier, begging to come, but now you want to tap out, sweetheart?” Hal crooned, watching you break again as he languidly strokes himself. “After Bar gives you exactly what you asked for?”

The man tsks mockingly as Barry nips at you, eliciting a yelp from you.

“Don’t focus on him, just let me take care of you, honey, I want you to feel good,” Barry murmurs, blue eyes gazing at you with a striking intensity as he moves up your body, peppering you with open mouthed kisses until he’s able to mouth at the pulse point on your neck.

Hal barks out a laugh, “You’ll spoil her like that.”

His suit dematerializes, revealing him in his full nude glory as he approaches your laid form with a smug smirk as you try not to gawk at his size.

“After all, you still owe us, don’t you, baby?”

Booster Gold and Ted Kord

Earlier you had insisted you could handle it. You were more than ready. Honestly, how hard could it be, you joked.

But as Ted began to slowly penetrate you from behind, you realize you might have bitten off more than you could chew.

Letting out a shaky moan, your head falls forward onto Booster’s shoulder, who nuzzles his cheek against your hair, “Just breathe, you’re doing so good.”

You can only whimper pathetically, panting at how overwhelmingly full you felt. You hear Ted groan into your ear, hands flexing against your hip.

“Almost there,” he grunts before letting out a hoarse laugh, “Might not last long with the way you’re gripping me.”

“‘Think that’s my line,” you mumble, keeping your face pressed against Micheal’s shoulder, before flinching away when you feel him twitch inside you.

“MJ!” You scold halfheartedly, keeping your eyes shut lest you finish embarrassingly quick.

“You’re both so hot,” he groans out, strands of blond hair sticking against his forehead.

Ted chokes out a laugh, sliding his hands up to grope your breasts, having finally bottomed out. “Let’s try not to make this into a fastest orgasm contest.”

“Don’t know if anyone is going to beat your record,” Booster teases you, kissing your forehead, as you try to shoot him a teary glare.

“Just shut up and move already—ah!” You are promptly cut off when Micheal sharply thrusts into you before laughing again.

“Don’t be in such a rush, we have all night to leave you in bed for the next week,” The blond hums, bringing a hand down to rub at your clit causing your breath to hitch.

“Besides, you look cute when you’re stuffed by our dicks…want to savour it, right Teddy?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him tease you…too much,” Ted whispers in a mock conspiratorial tone as his grip on your chest tightens.

Yes, you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle

After dumping Bruce, you hadn’t expected another of his ex lovers to approach you nor did you expect for her to make advances towards you. But you count yourself grateful, knowing that the bat’s other lovers would have rather put a blade to your throat. And there was something undeniably alluring about her, something that left every one of her actions demanding your total attention.

And it was nice to talk shit about your mutual ex.

So, it wasn’t a surprise to when you found yourself drowning in her arms, every stroke and graze being devastatingly intentional, leaving you to completely submit to her whims. Not that you minded. What you did mind was when Bruce suddenly entered through your hotel room’s window while Selina had three fingers in you.

It was almost funny seeing the detective visibly stiffen in shock, seemingly out a loss for words, “I…I thought—“

“You know I don’t spend all my time stealing. Maybe you should spent more time out of that cowl too,” Selina smirks, still not removing herself out of you, only pressing more weight against your body when you squirm.

“Well, might as well stay for the show,” Selina jerks her head toward the armchair next to the window, “God knows you haven’t been getting any since you let this one go.”

You almost laugh at the woman’s boldness before she bends her fingers in a way that having you letting out a shaky moan.

“Eyes on me, sweet girl, let’s show the bat how a lady should be treated,” She purrs.

You quickly find yourself forgetting about Bruce until you hear the sound of his belt clinking and a quiet moan.

Huntress and Question

Honestly, you must have a penchant for attracting weirdos, you think, as you find your days consisting of a certain anti hero and conspiracy buff glued to your side.

Both were, without a doubt, nut cases; Helena, with her too knowing gaze and sharp tongue, and Vic’s muttering and faceless mask making the duo a bit odd in the eyes of others. But the two weren’t all bad. Helena always looked out for you, ready to come to your defence without question, even if it meant threatening people with her crossbow. Vic had a knack for remembering the most obscure details you’ve shared and always knew what you needed with just a glance.

Really, they weren’t as bad as people made them out to be.

However, you promptly withdraw any kind word you’ve said about the two of them when you’re left at their mercy.

You squirm against Vic’s lap, his grip on your naked waist unrelenting, as his erection presses against your rear as Helena tightly sucks your clit, ripping a strangled yelp from you. You’re sure you would have jumped out of Vic’s lap if not for his hold on you.

“Aww, you’re so cute, never had anyone lick this pretty pussy before?” Helena laughs before pressing her tongue against your folds as you let out a cry.

You feel Vic’s thankfully unmasked face nuzzle against your neck, “Based on her reactions and lack of any evidence of a former lover in my investigation—“

“Q!” You complain, feeling your face heat up before moaning when Helena slides a finger in you without warning.

“What have I said about names?” She scolds you with a twinkle in her eyes.

“A bit unfair considering you’re both still in costume,” you pant.

“I wouldn’t call my coat a ‘costume��—”

“Shut up, Q.”

Really, they weren’t that bad.

Yeah, wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first helenavic threesome fic LMAOO actually I will now take this as fact without verifying, it is my badge of honour…also I really put b in that chair lol… Masterlist

This is how rip hunter was conceived btw!!

[marscardigan]

begin again

joel miller x reader

summary: after ten years, you see joel again.

warnings: blood, typical tlou canon violence, mentions of death and description of gore-ish wounds

longest fic i've ever writeen! enjoy!

Present day (spring 2035)

It was another typical Tuesday for Joel at Jackson. After his mission to patrol the woods that surrounded the little city, he came back to his home, and prepared something easy to eat with Ellie.

After that, he rested for a bit in his couch, always falling asleep for twenty or thirty minutes. When it was already dark, he went to the local bar to finish the day with a good beer. Maria, his brother's wife, sat down by his side.

"Hey, Joel" The named one turned his gaze to her, leaning his back to the wall. "Are you free tomorrow morning?"

"I wanted to fix the bathroom door" that" he shrugged, "but apart from that, I guess I'm free"

"Great, because Rick rescued a group of three women this afternoon. There is one of them that volunteered for patrol, and if you could go with her to train her a bit, although she is great with the shotgun" She laughed. "That chick almost blows Tommy's head". Joel drank the rest of the beer. "Alright, tell her to be at the stable at 7"

May 2024

The air smelled like summer. You loved summer, because the infected were easier to kill with the strong heat. And also because that allowed you to have some free time from the fireflies.

You joined them five summers ago, when they found you almost dead, with a bullet dangerously close to your chest. They saved you, and you owed them. So here you were. Owing them. Cleaning the zone from clickers and infected ones. Since the apocalypse started, you were grateful for your capabilities with the shotgun, thanks to your grandfather and his love for hunting. Thanks to that and your surprising survival skills, you were one of the fireflies best huntress; which meant you worked a lot, but also gained some free time for yourself.

You were sat on the rooftop of a building, killing some time with some old book you have just stolen, when you saw two people running through the perimeter. When you were about to shoot, your walkie sounded. It was Marlene, warning you not to kill them. You scoffed, asking who they were, and she evaded the question. Without feeling satisfied, you grabbed your shotgun and followed them.

Those fuckers were good at running, because after an hour, you lost them. It wasn't until a big arm grabbed you by the neck and put a knife - too close to your liking -, that you guessed they found out.

"Oh my god" The woman smiled, murmuring your name as if it was a foreign myth. "Glad to finally meet you, you are quite de legend around here" She got closer to you, "Joel, you can let her go"

"That won't be necessary" you hissed, taking advantage of their realization to kick him right between his legs. The male fell to his knees. You grabbed back your shotgun, pointing right between her eyebrows.

"My name is Tess, and this man is Joel" She raised her arms, getting back, but without showing a single sign of panic in her gaze. "We won't hurt you if you don't hurt us"

"You can't hurt me if I open your head" You answered, with your finger caressing the trigger.

"We were looking for you, for god's sake" Joel now said annoyed, still on the ground. "Marlene told us where you were. We know her."

"Why would she-"

"Your debt with the fireflies is done" Tess cut you off. "We were here to get you out of the quarantine zone. If you want, of course"

"Or you can stay here and still kiss Marlene's ass"

"Oh, you don't want to mess with me, big boy" You laughed, looking back at Tess. “Your boyfriend should keep his mouth shut, doll.”

"He ain’t my boyfriend" Tess admitted, sighing. "We also came to make you a job offer"

You bit your lip, then lowering your arm. "Keep talking"

"We work as smugglers, and we heard how good you are with your job" Tess grabbed Joel's hand, helping him get up. "If everything we heard about you and that shotgun of yours is true, we would like you to join us"

"You pay good?" You asked. "We pay great, and our job would suit your potential." The brunette nodded. "So, what you say?"

You didn't have much of a choice. You wanted so bad to get out of here. Also, you have done smuggling for free, so what's better than getting paid for doing things you were the best at?

"I'm in"

Present day

It was uncharacteristically cold today. Joel woke up before his alarm went off, taking advantage of these ten minutes to prepare a sandwich for his patrol today. It wasn’t rare that citizens of Jackson found stray people and opened their gates to them.

He got dressed and started his way to the stables, not without before leaving a note to Ellie about him leaving for the morning.

When he arrived, he started to get his horse ready, petting shimmer for a bit. Once he finished, he waited, sitting down in a chair. Then it was seven. He light up a cigarette. Then it was seven fifteen, seven twenty… And when the clock hanged on the stable wall marked seven thirty, Joel was exasperated.

Before he could leave, Maria appeared on his eyesight.

“Sorry, Joel, he had some issues with her prosthetic leg” She then announced: “She’s ready now.”

Joel’s brows furrowed. Then you appeared on his eyesight. His gaze softened, but just for a moment, before getting his guard back up.

“Hey, big boy”

October 2024

“You missed today” A voice behind you said. “You never miss.”

You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Joel talking. You were tired and the last thing you wanted was to talk to him. “I know”

“Why? Why did you miss?”

You shrugged. “I suppose you’ll never know.”

The room fell silent again. You started to appreciate the silence after all the loudness that entered to your life for the past months.

“You knew that woman” Joel then said. You didn’t notice when he got closer to your figure. “Am I right?”

You were still quiet, focusing your eyes to the book.

“I thought I knew her” You didn’t know why you were telling him that, you just wanted him to go away. “She looked like someone I knew”

Joel sat down right next to you, still keeping a distance. He didn’t insist about it. He just fell quiet.

“Doesn’t it happen to you?” You break the silence. “Thinking someone you knew fell sick. Or killing people you knew without being aware of it because of some fucking fungus”

“I think about it all the time” He then said. His voice seemed soft, weak even. “You lost someone because of it?”

“I lost everyone” You laughed at the irony. “But, uhm…” Tears threatened to come out of your eyes. “Five years ago, I lost my sister. And it was my fault.”

“Got infected?” Joel asked. You nodded slowly with your head. “She begged me to kill her, to end her pain. I guess I couldn’t do it.” You shrugged, trying - and failing - to act indifferent about it. “So when I see an infected that looks at least a bit like her, I get scared. It doesn't happen often, and I know it’s not scientifically possible for an infected to keep-”

“I understand.”

You closed your mouth shut. It was your turn to get quiet. “I lost my daughter because of it. I understand”

His words made you realize lots of things, the most important one, how similar you two were. Tried to act out as dangerous and powerful, when on the inside you were just two lost and broken people, who didn’t want nor care to be fixed.

That night, something clicked between you and Joel.

Present day

Joel stood static on his position. It couldn’t be possibly you. He had to be dreaming. He had to.

“I see you two know each other” Maria chirped. “I have work to do. Don’t mess this up.”

The woman disappeared, leaving the two of you alone.

You ignored his burning gaze towards you and jumped to the horse. “Come on.” Joel tried to ignore all the thoughts that were evading his head, and started riding his horse. Once the gates of Jackson closed, he positioned the animal right next to yours.

“How did you find me?” He asked, taking advantage to see your face. You had a long scar that went all through your right cheek. And he also looked at your missing leg, now replaced with a prosthetic metal one.

“You know I am very good at my job” You simply answered. When you looked at him, the male felt cold. “Where’s Tess?”

He took a minute before answering. “She didn’t make it”

You felt bad. Although you shouldn’t, you did. Maybe it was because a tiny piece of your heart still belonged to them. Even after everything.

“Sorry” You mumbled. “Infected?”

“Uh-huh” Joel looked at your leg. “How did you make it?”

You ignored him, riding your horse faster.

February 2025

The glass snapped with the pass pf your boots. You were all bloody - thank god it wasn’t yours - and you were also exhausted. Joel followed you close.

You two had a mission around Boston, and Tess couldn’t come with you, she got shot and lost a dangerous amount of blood. “Fuck” He mumbled. “We shouldn’t have accepted it until Tess recovered.”

“Oh shut up you pussy, we can handle this just fine” Your voice said the opposite, but Joel didn’t seem to notice.

All of a sudden, a window broke right on top of you. An infected grabbed you by the shoulders, her mouth too close to your neck. Before you could even process what was happening, Joel drove the bat into the infected’s head. You moved the now corpse to the floor, standing up. “Thank you for that” You laughed. “Lord, you scared me” He said at the same time.

You grabbed your shotgun and smiled at him. He didn’t smile back, yet his lips curled the tiniest bit upwards. You tried to remember every inch of his face. After all of these months together, you started to not dislike Joel and Tess' company, even you dared to say enyoing.

It was usual to start your routine wrapped in cold sheets, only Joel's body keeping you warm. Though you must admit it was nice to lay your trust on him and allow yourself some calm in your life, your job didn't make things easier. With your strong character and Joel's stubborness, you usually ended up fighting, a lot. It wasn't a relashionship what you both had, but for you, it felt like something much more important. You let him inside your head and your heart. You told eachother every fear, every dream, every thought that occupied your minds. Your connection with him was something built with time, patience and trust.

WIth everything you learned since you were with them, there was one thing you yearned for, and yet it was something that seemed imposible. Stability. Stability and a calm life was everything you wanted. It was pretty hard to find, knowing your head had a price in half of the states. But at some misions, like the one you were right now with him, you decided to be selfilsh for a while. You decided to priorize what your heart longed for, not what your head ordered.

So here you were. With one of your legs tangled in Joel's hip. Inside a house that wasn't even yours. Both of you only wearing underwear, your mind focusing on the light sound of the rain from the outside and Joel's calm breaths. "We should get going" Me whispered, plastering soft kisses in your forehead. "Tess must be waiting for us tonight"

"We already finished the mission, Joel. I can assure you by three pm we will be with Tess again. And please, don't name another woman's name after we fucked. It doesn't feel right." Joel chuckled, getting up from the bed. "Sure thing. come on, let's go."

Once you both got dressed and grabbed your guns, you went back to the road. The soft rain turned out to be a pretty loud storm, banning you and Joel's chance to go back as fast as you would've wanted.

It turned out to be a longer journey back home than you anticipated. And by the time you entered the building where youb three were staying, you and Joel shared a worried glance. A clicker sound.

Without further explanation, you reloaded the shotgun and runned to the third floor, whereTess was supposed to be. With every step you took, a woman's shouts became more louder. You killed two runners, who heard your fast footsteps. You didn't hear - or at least denied - Joel's screams to stop and get behind him. You could only hear Tess cries. When you killed two more clickers, you started to think this was serious. Joel screamed your name again.

"Get behind me! For the love of god get the fuck behind me!"

"There's too many!" You shouted back, throwing your shotgun to the floor once it ran away from bullets, and decided to stick with a metal bat instead. "Go get Tess!" The bat found an infected head, knocking it out at the instant. "I'll cover you! NOW!"

Joel failed to look you in the eye. He just nodded to himslef, trying not to think about everything that was happening right now, and just followed your orders. He grabbed Tess as carefully as he could and started running towards the exit, you following behind.

After that, everything happened in less that a minute. Your bat ended up blending with an infected's open head, leaving you unarmed and scared. You still hitted as hard as your could the other infected bodies that seemed every second harder to get rid off. And by the time Joel was on the third floor again, almost leaving the building, a clicker jumped on your back. Tess was the first ti notice.

"Joel get back! Get back! She needs you!"

Joel denied, not stopping nor looking back, where you were shouting for help. "We need to leave"

"No! Joel!"

You never seen a clicker so close. You never noticed how behind the fungus that filled his head, you could still see a human face. Ypou could see the pain the man was in. And stil, with both of your arms holding his cheeks and shovinmg him as hard as you could, it wasn0t enough. You were going to die. You used your last string of strenght to look back. Joel and Tess were gone. They left you. He left you.

The fatigue turned to anger, and the anger turned to rage. Thanks to that rage, you succeded to grab a brick at splash it into the clicker's head, allowing you to catch a breath and try to escape. You thought you made it when a high-pitch scream left your throat. You felt how every tooth burned the flesh of your leg. Your vision was blurry from the inevitabke tears that ecaped from your eyes. Taking advantage of how the clicker was eating your muscle, you ripped the clicker's head apart, killing him in the act. Leaving you in silence. God, how you appreciated silence. The only sound that was audible were your soft cries. You laid down the cold floor and kept crying. You were going to die. With all the stimoulation that ran through your veins, you didn't hear how at the end of the hall, Joel had come back to you. But when he saw your leg, and your weak figure, he knew you wouldn't last much. He now understood, better than ever, your story with your sister. That night, Joel decided to be selfish. He decided not killing you, even if that meant you would turn into a montser.

He never told Tess the truth, thinking it would be easier for both of them to believe you died that day. A couple of minutes later, when you were alone again, you crawled to a now dead clicker, and removed the knife from its neck. You cut your own leg and with Joel's jacket you stop - or at least tried to stop - the hemorriage.

The next thing you saw was darkness.

Present day

The sun started to hide behind the mountains and the air started to grow colder. You spent all day at patrol with Joel. Even though you haven't talked much, he knew why you were here. At least, that¡s what he thought.

"Come on" He stopped his horse, not daring to lock gazes with you for more than mere seconds. "I know why you're here."

"Oh, you do?" You mocked him, turning your horse around and getting closer to him. "Then why am I here, handsome?"

"To end me" His voice was nothing more than a mere whisper. "I left you, and now you'll get your revenge"

"You're right as always" You smiled at him. "Well, at least on the abadnonement thing. That was rough, even for you, asshole. But I'm not here to kill you. I don't blame you for what happened."

"When I found out you had been staying at Jackson for two years. I got jealous. You got what I wanted. A calm life." You shrugged. "I came here to have that, even if it means seeing you everyday, I just want some peace. I had enough violence."

Joel went quiet. Until his voice cracked. "Maybe we could begin again."

To begin again. To be gifted with another chance. To welcome him in your life again. Your voice sounded soft and yet cold when you murmured. "Yeah, maybe we could."

[jensengirl83]

Pining In The Pines

Dean x reader

Word count-3843

Warnings- Angst, some fluff

Summary- Y/N and the boys have to go on a hunt in her old hometown. She's not happy to go home, and especially not when Dean makes a comment that brings up bad memories. How will she take it? And will Dean be able to make it right?

A/N- This fills my Secret Passageway square for @jacklesversebingo

First, I suck at summaries 😂 Second, this fic is a little self-indulgent. I've written it about where I'm actually from and the stigma about the people in this area. I really hope you like it!

“So, get this,” Sam started the conversation as he looked at his laptop. 

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled in her chest. It never failed. When he found a hunt, the first words out of his mouth were, ‘So, get this.’ That’s how she and Dean knew to stop and pay attention. He had something they needed to hear. So, she tried to contain her laughter and give Sam the attention he wanted. 

“Y/N…Do you have to laugh every single time?” Sam groaned but didn’t wait for a response, continuing with what he wanted to say, “There’s supposedly been a Wendigo spotted in Morehead, Kentucky. Homeowners caught it on their security camera for their driveway.”

“Morehead…Isn’t that close to where you grew up, sweetheart?” Dean wondered, looking over at the huntress beside him. 

“It’s a few counties over, but yeah, it’s close enough. Did you say there was footage?” she questioned, leaning forward to look at Sam’s laptop as he spun it around for her and Dean to see. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Dean put his hand on her lower back as he leaned forward to watch the video. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she had fallen in love with the eldest Winchester. But how was she supposed to be around him, living in the bunker with him, and not fall head over heels? 

It was true that he had a temper, could be a real grump, and be downright mean sometimes. But, over the years, she’d learned that his temper flared most when someone he cared about was in danger. He would be grumpy when the weight of the world had gotten almost too heavy to bear, and he tried to push it down and keep it bottled up. He was mean when he thought he needed to push someone he cared about away because he was the one putting them in danger. To her, that was just the sign of a man who had been hurt, a man who loved deeply, one who cared so much that the thought of losing someone he loved was unbearable. So, how was she not going to fall for him at some point? 

But that’s as far as it went. She would never admit her feelings. She couldn’t. The likely rejection would be her end, and she would have to leave the bunker. She’d rather pine for him in tortuous silence than not have him in her life at all. So, as always, she shoved her feelings back down, focusing on the screen in front of her, and prepared for the hunt she knew was coming. 

“Earth to Y/N,” Dean nudged her, clearly seeing she was in her own little world. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m watching,” she rolled her eyes, trying to hide that she was fantasizing about the green-eyed Adonis. 

“Where was that pretty little head of yours?” he teased, his words making her heart ache. If only he really thought that way. 

“Just thinking of what I’ll need to pack. ‘Cause we’re clearly going to Kentucky, am I right?” she lied, hoping they would buy it. 

“Yeah, we have to check this out. I’ve never heard of a Wendigo this far east before,” Sam answered, getting Dean’s attention away from her. Thank Chuck. 

“There’s a lot of things in the Appalachian mountains that no one knows about. Trust me, you don’t want to be caught in those woods alone after dark,” she shivered at the thought. 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of the dark?” Dean tried to tease, but she gave him a stern look that made him think twice. 

“You should know that I’m not scared of the dark. I follow you into some of the darkest, creepiest places on earth. But, I grew up there, Dean. It’s not even just the monsters you have to worry about. I mean, there are bears, mountain lions, wolves…” she trailed off, not wanting to mention some of the crazy people that live in those mountains. 

“Okay, okay,” Dean huffed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “I get it.” 

“You better. You have to keep your head on a swivel while we’re in the woods. I’d hate to have to save your sorry ass from the real-life Yogi Bear,” she winked, “Because your ass will be the picnic basket.” 

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed at her sarcasm as Sam laughed. Even though she was crazy in love with him, she could give him shit right back. And to be honest, she thoroughly enjoyed frustrating him. As she saw it, it was payback for him making her love him in the first place. She continued to chuckle as she went to her room to pack. Y/N didn’t like the thought of going home. Too many memories she’d like to forget. But duty calls, so she was packing her bags for the long drive to southeast Kentucky. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I highly doubt there’s a Wendigo here. They don’t stay in the wide-open woods,” Dean complained while trekking through the mountains. 

“Dean, do you not know anything about the topography of Kentucky?” Y/N asked, shaking her head in annoyance. He’d been in a mood all day. 

“Yes, sweetheart. I spend all my free time studying the layout of a state I rarely ever visit,” his sarcasm made her want to smack him in the head. 

“Well, dear,” she said just as sarcastically, “Kentucky is known for its underground cave systems. You know, Mammoth Cave. One of the biggest cave systems in the world…”  

“Of course! Because spelunking is high on my to-do list!” 

“Oh! Look at him, Sam. He’s using big boy words like spelunking. I’m so proud of you, Dean!” she half shouted at him. Trying to keep her voice down so as not to attract unwanted attention to whatever was out there. 

“Guys! Knock it off. We’re here to kill a Wendigo. Not for you two to kill each other!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“She started it,” Dean whined, acting like a child. 

“Fuck off, Dean,” she growled as she walked ahead of them. Leading them to the caves she knew were close. 

Y/N ignored the bickering between the brothers behind her as she made her way through the trees. She loved Dean, but today, she thought about leaving him in one of the caves they found. He’d been an ass since they woke up at the motel, and she couldn’t figure out what had his boxers in a bunch. They’d had to share a bed, but she didn’t think he’d be that pissed about that, but she wouldn’t put anything past him at that point. But, whatever it was, it tempted her to make him Wendigo lunch. 

“Slow down, Y/N. We’re not born and raised hillbillies like you are. It’s taking us a little longer to navigate this hellscape,” Dean yelled, grumbling under his breath about her getting too far ahead. 

Y/N froze. That was the last straw. Yes, she’d been born and raised in the area, but that word…Hillbilly. She’d been trying to get rid of that stigma since she left the mountains, and now hearing Dean, the man she loved, call her that derogatory term was too much to take. 

“Let me tell you something, asshole! Yeah, I grew up here, but I’m not a fucking hillbilly! I’ll have you know not everyone who lives in Appalachia are backwoods, uneducated, rednecks! So, take that term, and shove it straight up your ass!” she screamed, her anger boiling over into dangerous territory. 

Before either of the boys could say a word, a guttural, terrifying growl tore through the darkening woods. Y/N spun around to see what they’d been there to find. The Wendgio was only about thirty feet behind her, moving in quickly. Sam shouted for her to get behind him, breaking her out of her stupor. Once she’d cleared his line of sight, Sam grabbed his homemade flamethrower, flicking his lighter to ignite it, but nothing happened. He tried again but to no avail. Y/N’s screams tore through the night air…

“Run! Follow me!” 

The boys were quick at her heels as she weaved them in and out of the trees and underbrush. Dean couldn’t help but think about how impressed he was at her agility in that terrain. He could tell she’d grown up here and knew her way around, which brought him to his next thought. How guilty he felt for saying what he had. But now was not the time to apologize. Right now, he had to concentrate on not losing sight of her and getting shredded to pieces by the monster on their tails.  

“Here! Guys, hurry!” she shouted, an old moonshining cabin in her sight. 

Once she reached the cabin, she flung open the door, waiting for the boys to enter before slamming it shut, silently praying that the rickety lock would hold just long enough to devise a plan. 

“What the hell happened back there?” Dean asked, hands on his knees as he panted for breath. 

“I don’t know! The flamethrower has never not worked before,” Sam answered with the same labored breathing as his brother. 

“Well, we can figure that out later. Now, we need to figure out how to stay alive!” Y/N yelled, panic starting to set in. 

“Calm down, sweetheart. We’ll be okay,” Dean tried to calm her down, but she was still too angry with him. 

“Don’t! Do not ‘sweetheart’ me! You had no right to talk to me like that!” 

“Look, swe- Y/N, I’m sorry. But I don’t understand why that made you so mad,” Dean spoke as he looked around the cabin for something to use as a makeshift weapon. 

“That was a shit apology, Winchester. Just…just don’t speak to me until we get out of this mess,” she groaned, then mumbled, “If we live through this mess.” 

“Hey!” Dean shouted, getting her attention, “We are getting out of this. Don’t talk like that.” 

“Can you tell me how you plan to get us out of here? Cause I don’t see another way out except through the door that Wendigo is now trying to beat down!” 

As she walked toward Dean, her foot almost went through the floor, or at least it felt like it. She stopped, pushing down with her foot one more time. The bounce under her foot had her laughing loudly, and the boys looked at her like she’d lost her mind. Dean spoke as she started to rip the rug she stood on out of the way. 

“Care to tell us what you find so funny?” 

“This!” she continued to laugh in relief as she pointed to the hatch in the floor where she’d been standing, “It’s our way out!” 

“How do you know that? It could be just an old cellar,” Sam asked, walking over to inspect what she’d found. 

“Well, as Dean so nicely put it, us hillbillies would dig secret passageways to transport the moonshine back and forth without the police seeing them. They almost always lead to an abandoned coal mine or cave opening. Sometimes other cabins.” 

“Y/N, come on, I tried to apologize. I didn’t know it would upset you that much,” Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. 

“Well, it did, and…” she started to argue when Sam interrupted them. 

“Maybe you two can finish this fight once we know we’re not going to die? Let’s go!” 

Y/N and Dean simultaneously rolled their eyes. Sam would have told them they were two peas in a pod if they weren’t in such a hurry to save their asses. Y/N was the first one down the ladder, explaining that she’d be their best bet for not getting completely lost underground, and neither brother disagreed. Dean followed, with Sam on his heels. Once they were underground, Y/N led the way, and the boys were impressed with how well she could get around in the tunnels. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, Dean was going to ask if she really knew where she was going, but before he could open his mouth, they turned a corner and could see a light up ahead in the tunnel's ceiling. Y/N was climbing the ladder through another hatch before Dean knew what was happening. Maybe her nickname should be Squirrel instead of him, he chuckled to himself. As the last brother made it out of the tunnel and into another cabin, Y/N slammed the hatch, pushing an old, heavy piece of furniture over it. Luckily, this one was still quite furnished, with beds still in the bedrooms and an old couch in front of a fireplace. 

“This is home until morning,” she stated, looking around, finding, albeit dusty, pillows and blankets in a closet.

“Better than nothing,” Sam shrugged, walking into one of the bedrooms and shutting the door, leaving only one bedroom for her and Dean. 

“Looks like we’re sharing again, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Nah, take the bed. I’ll take the couch,” she whispered, not looking at him. Damn, she was still mad. 

“I’m not taking a bed and putting you on an old debilitated couch, Y/N.” 

“It’s fine. My adrenaline is still too high to sleep. Besides, I’ll keep watch so you can get some rest. You have to drive us back to the bunker tomorrow. I can sleep in the car.” 

“Y/N…” 

“No, Dean, it’s fine. Please, just take the bed. I’m too tired to argue,” she almost begged, wanting to be alone. 

“I thought you said you weren’t tired?” he smirked, trying to joke, but she wasn’t having it. 

“I’m mentally exhausted. I just need time to myself to wind down. Now, please, go get some sleep so we can get the hell out of here in the morning,” she pleaded, the look on her face breaking his heart. He had really hurt her with what he said. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Good night,” he said dejectedly, knowing it would be a sleepless night. His guilt would make sure of it. 

“Night,” she replied, turning her back to him, sitting down on the couch, staring out the window, never glancing his way. The click of the door made her wince as Dean went to bed.

Sleepless night was an understatement. Dean’s eyes didn’t close once as he lay there thinking how wrong the day had gone. He and Y/N had argued since their feet hit the floor that morning. Him being an ass was the reason for it. He hated fighting with her, but when he woke that morning, she was curled up at his side, her head on his chest. Usually, a man wouldn't complain about having a beautiful woman wrapped around him, but it tends to put you in a pissy mood when it’s a woman you love but can’t have. 

Dean was ass over tea kettle for Y/N, but he’d never tell her that. She deserved so much better than being saddled with a man who could barely stand his own company most days. He drank too much, and he wasn’t good at communicating how he felt. He knew that. Sam had told him many times he needed to learn to open up, but he didn’t want to burden anyone with the shitshow that was his mind. Especially her. So, as with his other emotions, he pushed his love for her deep and tried to ignore it. Lately, that hadn’t been working so well. As he lay there telling himself all the reasons he couldn’t have her, a sound caught his attention. He tiptoed to the door, cracking it slowly, and what he saw had him rushing out the door. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he quizzed her as he rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms. Her sobs were what he’d heard. 

“I’m fine, Dean. Go back to bed,” she hiccuped through her tears. She couldn’t tell him the full truth. 

“Obviously, you are the opposite of fine. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, placing her chin between his thumb and index finger to turn her face to him, “Is this about today?” 

“Partially,” she admitted, trying to turn her head back to the window, but his grip wouldn’t let her.

“Y/N…I’m so so sorry. I know I was being an ass, but I had no idea it would hurt your feelings like that. Can you explain to me why? I’m not trying to fight. I honestly don’t understand.” 

“I’ve tried to get rid of the ‘hillbilly’ stigma since I left this place. It's always the same thing whenever someone finds out where I’m from. There’s this image people have about people from the Appalachian mountains that just aren’t true. We’re not a bunch of ignorant, uneducated people who live deep in the woods and never come out. Unfortunately, movies and TV shows have depicted us in such a bad light that most people think that’s all we are. And when that term comes from the man you…” she gasped, catching what she almost said. But Dean caught it as well. 

“The man you what, Y/N?” he asked, holding his breath. Was she about to admit what he thought? Maybe, just maybe, he could try to be better, be the man she deserved if she loved him too. 

“Dean…” she whimpered, trying to turn away from him again, but he wasn’t letting her go now. 

“Uh uh, say it. Say it, Y/N,” he pleaded, his eyes staring into hers, “Were you going to say the man you loved?” 

“Yes! Okay? I was going to say the man I loved!” she shouted in frustration as she jumped from the couch, finally breaking Dean’s hold on her, “Now, go ahead and tell me that you don’t see me that way, tell me that you don’t want me, so I can prepare to pack my shit and leave when we get back to the bunker. Because I can’t stay there and see you every day after your rejection. I just can’t.” 

Dean stood and walked to her as she stood staring out the window, her back to him after her confession. He touched her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. Her look of sadness and despair nearly ripped his heart from his chest. He thought having his heart literally ripped out would hurt less than seeing her like this. He slid his hand up from her shoulder to cup her cheek. A tear trickled down her face as she closed her eyes at his touch, and he swiped it away with his thumb. 

“Is that what you want me to tell you, or do you want me to tell you the truth?” he asked softly, waiting for her to open her eyes, which didn’t take a split second. Her eyes went wide. 

“What are you saying?” she uttered shakily. 

“I’m saying that I love you, too, Y/N. I have for a long time.” 

“But, but,” she stuttered, trying to find her words, “You were so mad at me when we woke up this morning. That isn’t how someone acts when they love the person in bed with them.” 

“Sweetheart, I was mad because I opened my eyes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen curled up against me, and all I could think was how I wanted it to mean something, and I didn’t think it ever would. If I’m being honest, you could do so much better. And thinking I’d never have you that way pissed me off because I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I want you, Y/N. You’re my first thought when I wake up, and I fall asleep picturing you beside me. I know I’m not a good man, and there’s someone out there that could and would give you more than I’ll ever be able to, but if you really love me, I’m going to be selfish for one time in my fucking life and ask you to give me a chance. I can guarantee that I’m going to piss you off and probably hurt your feelings again, but it will never be intentional. So, what do you say? You want to give us a shot?” He poured his heart out to her, leaning his forehead against hers as he waited for an answer. 

“Dean, contrary to what you believe, you are a good man. You love with your whole being and fiercely protect those lucky enough to get that love. I know you don’t believe you deserve it, but you deserve the world, Dean Winchester, and I’d be honored to be the one to try and give it to you.” 

“Really?” he asked with a million-watt smile, leaning back to look her in the eye. 

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she returned his smile, both sighing in relief. 

“Come here,” he growled, pulling her face to his and kissing her passionately. 

The kiss was better than either had imagined, and they both poured the love they felt for the other into it. They stayed that way until the need to breathe became too much, pulling away with smiles. He pulled her into a hug, laying his head on top of hers. They stayed silent for a few minutes before Dean broke the silence. 

“So, you want to move your stuff into my room when we get back? 

“I don’t know, Dean,” she pulled back, chewing on her bottom lip, “I really think we need to take this as slowly as possible. Make sure that we’re going to last.” 

“Oh, yeah, okay,” he agreed, his heart clenching at the hurt he felt. 

“I’m just joking,” she laughed, poking him in the ribs, “You’re not going to get rid of me now!” 

“Damn it, Y/N! That wasn’t funny! You almost gave me a heart attack,” he grumbled, not finding her joke all that funny. 

“I think I’m hilarious,” she smirked up at him. 

“You’re something, alright. Now, how about we both try to get some rest? We have a lot of packing to do when we get home,” he suggested, leading her toward the bedroom, “You have a lot of shit. I don’t know where we’re going to put it all.” 

“Ha ha,” she deadpanned, “Well, we could always get rid of your vinyl collection to make room.” 

“Hey! Those are fighting words,” he growled playfully, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. 

“Bring it on, old man,” she cackled as his eyes shot up his forehead in shock. 

“I’ll show you an old man!” he said in faux anger, chasing her into the bedroom. 

All that could be heard as the bedroom door shut was the laughter and playful banter between the new couple, and that’s how it stayed for the years to come.

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[holdmytesseract]

Hello sweetie!!!

Good to know that you've opened requests because do I have A WONDERFUL request for YOU!

Okay okay, of course for me I'm going to request Loki so here goes...

Loki and Reader are arranged to marry and have never met before (either Reader is a princess or just a lady). The day of the wedding, reader suggests a first touch with her fiance - how could Frigga deny that? So they do it. Then, when they see each other at the altar, it's as if the world stops for them both.

I left it a bit vague so you can expand but I am so excited to see what you make of it! I love you so much and please do DM me if you need something 🫂🥰❤️

~LRM

Marrying a Stranger

Loki Odinson x fem!Princess!Reader

Summary: You are arranged to marry Prince Loki of Asgard. Fear and pre-wedding nerves get the better of you and you can't help but ask Frigga for help. Of course is the good-hearted Queen more than willing to help out...

Warnings: arranged marriage? angst, fluff, sweet Loki

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: I actually wanted to post a new chapter of 'Through the Years' today, BUT the birthday of my wonderful friend @lady-rose-moon is definitely more important. 🥰 Therefore, I'd like to post this lil' oneshot as a gift. 😊 Again, happy (belated) birthday, friend!

Ps. I'm also incredibly sorry that his took me so long to write... I hope you like it nevertheless! I love you, too! 💚

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds (Continuing in the comments!)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The day had arrived. The day you looked forward to in excitement and anticipation, but also with fear and nervousness. Your wedding. Your arranged wedding, to be precisely.

You were a princess. Only daughter of the king and queen of Vanaheim. And due to the royal blood pumping through your veins, you were not allowed to choose the man you'd marry. The man would be chosen for you. At first, you didn't approve of this and were literally appalled by the mere imagination of marrying a strange man you had never seen before, but your mother and all your tutors had quickly put you in your place.

There was no way out of this - and you had to accept that. It was your fate. Your destiny. The destined path for a princess.

This is not of importance, sweetheart. You don't have to meet your future husband, in order to marry him.

A few centuries ago, when you had reached womanhood, your marriage was arranged and announced within the kingdom. You were bespoken to king Odin's and queen Frigga's youngest son... Prince Loki of Asgard.

Throughout all the years you had never met your betrothed.

That is the man I shall marry?

That was what your mother had answered to your question if you could meet the prince you were going to marry.

So, the topic was off the table. You had been taught to obey your mother, so why would you dare to ever ask her again? The decision was made. No meant no. You only ever heard stories of your future husband... That he was quite special - and not in the good way. Most people spoke of his mischievous and cunning nature. Some even said villainous, brute and rebellious. To hear those words scared you.

You had dreamed of true love and romance. Of being courted and wooed. You dreamed of a sweet, kind man who would treat you like you deserved - and not of a brute who would treat you like his maid. You spent endless sleepless nights within your chambers, thinking about your future with Loki. What if he truly was just a harsh, mischievous scamp? What if your dreams were about to shatter?

And now, suddenly the moment had come...

But then you started to hear other stories of Loki Odinson as well. About how charming and witty he is. How gentlemanly and eloquent. And how utterly handsome he shall look.

You were torn. Torn by every story they told you - and the worst part was that you never got to find out what the truth was and which talk was cheap. At least not until the day you would marry him. It left you a mess.

You were standing in a huge chamber in the royal palace of Asgard. The room bustled with maids, who were preparing everything to get you ready for the wedding ceremony. You nervously fumbled your fingers; constantly tugging at the soft fabric of your wine red dress. Your mother had just left the room along with your father; leaving you and your troubled mind alone.

From the first encounter with Frigga, you could tell that she had a heart of gold. She was so kind and lovely. Perhaps the most good-hearted person you ever met. You got along with your future mother-in-law instantly. She had welcomed you with open arms. And right in that moment, you couldn't picture another way out.

You couldn't deny the anxiety any longer. It hit you full force; realisation dawning on you like the sun... I can't marry a man I never saw in my life.

So, you decided to order a maid to fetch the only person you hoped would be kind enough to help you. Queen Frigga. The Allmother. You and your family had arrived about a week ago and even in that week you never got to see Loki. Only the king and queen. Not the princes.

Frigga gently took your hands in hers and led you over to the bed; sitting down with you. "What is the matter, dear? The fear within you is stronger than your nervousity. I can feel it." You swallowed hard, "I- It's... It's just..." and had to take a deep breath. "I'm afraid of marrying a man I never saw in my life. I-I know that this is not of importance and probably even forbidden, but-" A radiant smile forming on the queen's lips interrupted you. You furrowed your brows; were confused. Even more when she started to chuckle.

Only a few moments passed, before the young maid returned to your chambers; following the queen.

"Y/N, my dear..." She immediately walked up to you. "You called for me?" You just nodded; anxious eyes meeting Frigga's beautiful blue ones. "I-I did. Could we... Could we talk in private?" "Of course!" She reassured you, then clapped her hands twice. "Would you all please leave and give us some privacy?" All the maids stopped in their tasks and immediately rushed to leave your chambers.

"My son requested the exact same. Barely before you called me to your chambers, I sat with Loki and spoke about this with him as well. I guess you are quite similar in that case." She chuckled again and reached for your hand again. You just stared at her; not quite believing what she just said. "I understand you, dear. I couldn't do such a thing either. Back when I had to wed my husband, I demanded to at least see him and share a few sentences with him beforehand as well. It helped me to adapt to the situation I was in. Therefore, I can't deny yours, neither my son's wish." Frigga stood up and offered you her arm. "Come on."

You swallowed hard; feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest, as you approached the little pavilion.

You blinked; were utterly speechless. You knew Frigga would understand you, but that... That wasn't something you anticipated to happen. Still a bit stunned, you stood up and took her offer. She led you out of your chambers, down several hallways you had never seen before, until you were outside the palace and had reached a beautiful garden. She stopped, nodding towards a small pavilion quite a few meters away, which was surrounded by rose bushes and cherry trees.

"My son is waiting for you in the pavilion." Frigga let go of your arm and gave you a smile. "You have about an hour before the maids will return to get you both ready for the ceremony. Make sure to be back at your chambers by that time." With a wink and a soft pad on your arm, she turned around and left.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Carefully - almost shyly, you peeked around the corner.

A man was standing in the middle of the small pavilion, with his back towards you; hands clasped behind his lower back. You could see that he was wearing a green tunic and black leather boots. Gold accents highlighted his whole outfit.

He had long hair - as black as the feathers of a raven. It fell in soft curls over his shoulders. Your gaze climbed up and down his body. He was tall. Norns, he was so tall - and his hands were big. You could tell. They would swallow yours whole.

"H-Hello?" A dark, smooth and slightly high-pitched voice spoke. "A-Are... Are you Princess Y/N?" You could tell by his voice that he was nervous, too. Probably even afraid - just like you.

You didn't even notice how your mouth fell agape. Or how you made another small step forwards; totally enhanced by the God you saw standing in front of you.

Barely after you set one foot in front of the other, a small twig snapped underneath the weight of your body. You flinched - and the man quickly turned to face you; flinching the slightest bit as well. The gust which was created by Loki's quick spin was sent directly into your direction and no second later, his scent hit you; invaded your nostrils... Leather, something dark and musky, charred wood and a slight hint of mint and something fruity. It smelled so rich, so divine, but also so addictive and cosy. You almost fainted.

You needed a moment to get yourself together. "Y-Yes, I-" Your words faded into a gasp as your eyes met his for the first time ever. He had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. Blue like water and as deep as the oceans. They held so many emotions. Nervousity and fear, but also curiosity and excitement. But above all kindness - the same kindness which sparkled within his mother's eyes.

Loki smiled and took a few cautious steps towards you. "It is my utmost pleasure to meet you, my princess." He gathered a bit of his bravery and hesitatingly reached for your hand, taking it gently in his. With a soft bow, he bestowed a small kiss upon your knuckles; soft, smooth lips brushing against your cold skin. A shudder rippled through you.

"The- The pleasure is a-all mine, my prince." You more or less stammered out, now utterly distracted by his chiselled facial features. High cheekbones, sharp jawline and a perfectly shaped nose. Norns, you thought. He looks like carved out of marble.

Loki gave you a smile. "Thank you for agreeing to this little... secret meeting. I-I just had to see you before the ceremony, I-" You gave his hand - which still enveloped yours a soft squeeze. "I know. I felt the same way." A nervous chuckle left his lips, followed by an even bigger smile. "That makes this situation so much easier..." You reciprocated his smile. "Indeed, my prince."

You took a seat on the small, cosy bench and decided to use the time you had left to talk and get to know each other at least a little bit, before you'd become husband and wife. It was exactly what you - and Loki needed. But especially, it calmed your fears of marrying a brute, despiteful man. They had been wrong... Oh so wrong. Loki was not like that. He was like you hoped he'd be. Kind, gentlemanly, sweet - and utterly romantic. His heart may be battered and bruised, but you could feel that this man would do everything to be a good, loving husband for you.

The hour flew by way too fast; within the blink of an eye and soon it was time to part ways - for now.

"Thank you, my pri-" "Loki. Please... It's Loki for you." That made you blush even more - if that was even possible. "Thank you, Loki." You smiled. "I can't believe I'm going to be wed to such a handsome, polite and sweet man either."

"Again... Thank you for agreeing to this." Loki said; voice soft. You shook your head. "No need to thank me. I wanted this, too, you know..."

Silence settled over the both of you, until he let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "I can't believe I'm marrying such a beautiful, kind-hearted woman in barely a few hours." You blushed in the darkest shades of crimson at his words; suppressing a girlish giggle to slip past your lips.

That caused Loki to blush.

A nervous chuckle bubbled from deep within his chest. "Thank you-" "Y/N." You interrupted him. "Y/N." The way he rolled his name off your tongue almost send you into another dimension - you were sure of it.

His words hit you straight into your heart. You could swear it was aflame by now, burning for this man you knew so little, but were going to wed in a few hours.

"Are you still nervous?" Loki asked then; eyes soft. You nodded. "Y-Yes, I- I'm afraid it's going to get worse..." You giggled nervously; desperately trying to play it cool, but failing.

He took your hand in his again; gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "I know this is normal. I-I am nervous, too, but... Please don't worry. You are not alone in this. I'll be there - and I won't ever let go of you."

You took deep breaths; smiling brightly. Now you could say that you were really looking forward towards your wedding. For the first time in centuries.

"T-Thank you. That is really reassuring to know. I-I won't let go either." Loki smiled, "That's good to know, my darling." and leaned in for a delicate, small peck on your lips. It was gentle and barely lasting - but it felt so right. So good.

Before you were able to answer something, his hand slipped from yours as he was passing you by; stepping out of the pavilion and out of your sight.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." Your mother said with tears in her eyes. She placed her pointer finger underneath your chin. "It's time for you to enter the next chapter of your life. A lot is going to change, I know - but your whole life was spent preparing you for exactly that moment. You're a strong woman, Y/N. Never doubt that. And Loki is going to be a wonderful husband. He's the perfect match."

By now, you had to fight off the tears as well.

Your mother leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. "I'm so proud of you, just like your father. I love you." You smiled; swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in your throat. "Thank you, mama. I love you, too." She gave you a loving, motherly smile and left to sit with the other wedding attendants.

You took a deep breath and with the sounds of the fanfare, you stepped through the golden doors and slowly walked down the red carpet towards Loki - who stood at the altar; dressed in his ceremonial armour, waiting for your arrival.

All eyes were on you, but you only had eyes for your prince.

When his eyes landed on you, they widened immediately; his mouth falling agape. He watched how your wedding dress swayed softly with each step you took.

She looks absolutely beautiful, he thought; feeling his heart beating rapidly against his chest.

It was all you needed in that moment.

You walked slowly, gracefully - like you've been taught. It felt like an eternity, until you finally reached him.

Loki immediately stretched out his hands for you to lay yours in his - and you did. The moment you touched, it felt like you could finally breathe normal again. His skin was so soft and warm; giving you the feeling of warmth and comfort. For you, his touch was a safe haven. He was anchoring you; preventing you to get lost in the sea of no-man's-land.

You looked up. His endless blue eyes met yours for the second time - and time seems to stand still around you. In that moment, it was only you and him.

You smiled and finally weren’t afraid anymore of the future. Not if it involved the man right in front of you.

[redheadjustin]

could u do batfam x toddler male reader who is rlly shy but someone tries to like kidnap him at a gala and the fam just has to figure out what to do

Ah yes, the infamous bat family. And the family that proves blood isn’t everything. Bruce, the infamous Batman, had adopted all of his children. With the notable exception of Stephaine and Duke. Steaphaine was still living with her mom, when she wasn’t in rehab. And at this point Burce was only fostering Duke though everyone but Duke knew adoption papers were imminent.

Which brings us to you. You were adopted by Bruce the second you were born. Though that's because both of your parents weren't in a good place to raise you. So, one night your parents approached Batman after a fight. And you were a member of the bat family ever since.

Dick was the best oldest brother. You could ask for. He always made time for you. And always took you to the circus. And he instilled the same love for elephants he had.

Jason was not as lovey dovey as Dick. but he always has time for you and a nerf battle. He also takes you to the safe part of crime alley.

Tim loves to teach you technology. He's also the one to keep watch over you during your naps since he never sleeps. 

Damian is in charge of your exercise and physical development. He also is as caring to you as his pets. And he almost never insults you. He also trains with you in the bat cave when Bruce is busy. 

Duke is the one who exposes you to Gotham culture and other things like music and art. He knows how easy it is to become spoiled and out of touch. He doesn’t want that for you. Plus your parents are from the streets like him. He wants you to know full well what background you come from. 

Bruce is the best Father you could ever ask for. He loves to take you to meet other heroes. He knows Batman will be your favorite hero till you die. He also brings you gifts often after a mission. And he is there most nights to tuck you in. He genuinely cares and has done his best to scale back his Batman activities. He cares about his newest son.

But during a gala Riddler kidnapped you. It was all hands on deck for the Bat family. They called all reserve membersing Batwoman, Batgirl, Spoiler, Orphan, Batwing, Huntress and The Question. Bruce wasn’t taking any chances. 

Riddler was driving when the Bat family found you. You were in the backseat scared, confused, lonely. Your young mind couldn’t figure out why you were taken. You didn’t know that your family’s wealth would put a target on your back. 

What neither you or your captor noticed was the batmobile gaining on the car. Or the batcycles riding next to the car. You looked out the right window and saw Robin(Damian) on a batcycle. Damian smiled seeing you unharmed. The current Robin winked at you and pointed backwards. Curious, you turned your head to look out the back window and you saw the batmobile. Your eyes went wide with happiness and you whispered to yourself. “Daddy came.” 

It was then the car hit spikes in the road that Batwoman and Question set up. The car’s skidd was controlled and you were left unharmed. Then the windshield was broken as a fist reached in and pulled Riddler out of the care. That’s when you saw Red Hood. jason was pissed as hell but you didn’t have time to think about that for long as the door opened and a pair of black gloves reached in to pick you up. You knew instantly it was Your Daddy. Batman. And as soon as you could you curled in to Batman’s chest.

“Shhh, its okay baby bat. We’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Bruce says to his youngest son, he is determined to never let this happen again. “I’ve got you.”

[shu-box-puns]

Just finished all of your works (big fan btw) and couldn’t help but cheese at Jake and reader working so well with Spider! I like the idea that their mates bond over their humans as it is but, then they start to bond over realizing that oh my gosh they want their own families with these human idiots 🤣 Miles is legit being raised by a village

I have to admit that the dynamic of Reader and Jake attempting to take care of a kid together and accidentally unleashing baby fever on everyone around them, is my favourite thing to write at the minute. I love the softness of the four of them learning together how to balance Miles in their lives. I also love that Miles has strolled onto the scene and single-handedly thrown everything off course.

It will indeed take a village, but damn is that kid going to be prepared for the wonders of Pandora by the time he can crawl. With Jake and Reader taking care of him within the compound where he will have access to all the knowledge the scientists have gathered, outside of the compound he has the clan's best huntress (Neytiri) to help him learn to hunt, and a scarily overprotective father (Tsu'tey) to protect him from all the dangers of Pandora until he can protect himself. And then we have his terrifying Grandmother who need not be elaborated on.

AS ALWAYS: To anyone confused, you can find the chapter in question here! It is a Tsu'tey x Reader based after the war of the first film, where they accidentally end up adopting Spider instead of babysitting him like they were supposed to.

[sangoziethesimp]

That would be really cute if Acheron and reader had a child together. You should totally write that :D

Fractured Family | ACHERON X FEM!READER

And I did it.

MEN AND MINORS DNI.

Y/N lives on the Astral Express, a spaceship traveling between planets. Their child, Orion, has striking purple features like their missing partner, Acheron. Acheron vanished on a mission months ago, leaving only a cryptic message. One day, Acheron returns, weary and dusty. Confusion and tension fill the air as Y/N reveals Orion is their son. A flicker of hope emerges as Acheron connects with Orion, hinting at a chance to mend their broken family.

The hum of the Astral Express lulled you to a knee as you wrestled a giggling toddler into a pair of mismatched boots. (H/c) curls, stubbornly mirroring your own, bounced with every wiggle, intermingled with a defiant streak of violet – a clear echo of Acheron's unique hair color. However, the most striking feature on his face was a pair of bright purple eyes, a perfect inheritance from his mother.

"Hold still, Orion," you pleaded, finally managing to secure the laces. His laughter echoed through the cramped cabin, a sound both familiar and foreign at the same time.

"Mommy," he exclaimed, pointing at the battered leather satchel by the bunk. "Is Mama coming home today?"

Your heart squeezed. Acheron. The name still sent a jolt through you, a bittersweet reminder of a love both passionate and fleeting. Months ago, she'd vanished on a solo mission to a remote outpost, leaving only a terse message on the ship's communication board: "Gone rogue. Taking care of it myself. Sorry."

The cabin door hissed open, revealing a weary Acheron coated in dust and grime. Her eyes, the same piercing purple you knew so well, scanned the dimly lit space before locking on the small figure huddled by the bunk.

Silence. Acheron stood frozen, her expression unreadable. Orion, sensing the tension, tilted his head and chirped, "Hi, you must be Mama!"

Acheron's brow furrowed. She slowly approached the bunk, her gaze darting between you and the child. The air crackled with unspoken questions.

Finally, she spoke, her voice a husky whisper, "Y/N... who's this?"

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. "Acheron," you started, your voice steady despite the nervous tremor in your heart, "this is Orion. Our son."

The revelation hung heavy in the air. Acheron stared at Orion, her eyes wide with a mix of shock, disbelief, and a flicker of something you couldn't quite decipher. The stoic huntress's mask seemed to falter for a moment, a glimpse of vulnerability beneath the weathered exterior.

Then, a hesitant smile touched her lips, a sliver of recognition lighting up her purple eyes. She knelt beside Orion on the worn rug, her movements tentative at first. But as his infectious laughter filled the cramped space, a playful glint returned to her gaze.

Tentatively, she reached out a hand, brushing it against his cheek. Orion, unfazed, leaned into the touch, a contented sigh escaping his lips. A flicker of warmth crossed your chest, a fragile hope blooming amidst the years of unspoken words.

As you watched them, Acheron's calloused fingers gently traced the contours of a mismatched sock on Orion's foot. You saw a flicker of something else in her eyes then – a flicker of regret, a silent apology.

Gathering your courage, you shifted closer, leaning into the space beside Acheron. The warmth of her presence, familiar yet distant, sent a shiver down your spine. She didn't pull away, and in that small gesture, you saw a sliver of hope for the future – a chance to mend the rough patches on your relationship, to build a new foundation for your fragile family.

[addicted-to-dc]

Jekyll/Hyde Part 2 - Taskforce 141 x Reader

Tags for those who encouraged me to write this. Thank you!!! @greeniegreengreen @aeilani @poetslastdeath 

Link to Part 1

Content Warnings: Typical CoD violence, ptsd, reader is going to be unhinged (even more so in the next chapters).

The computer does all the work for you nowadays. Honestly, you expected this to be your time to think things over. ‘Meditate’ as Laswell calls it. Rumination sits better on your tongue. How in the world can you ruminate in conditions like these? The overhead lights are buzzing, a high-pitched constant ringing that’s giving you a migraine. It feels like an ice pick was shoved through your eye socket, the cold metal turning warm as it disturbs thousands of nerves.

The seclusion you needed has fucking left the building, leaving you alone with a team of walking dead men. Laswell didn’t tell them why you had so many deaths. One would assume that the common denominator (i.e. YOU) are the reason why families mourn their loved ones. With every step you take you can hear the jingle of all those tags, so many souls gone because you couldn’t stop digging for the truth.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to drag yourself out of your exhaustion. Your efforts only reward you with a sharp pain in your skull. Checking the time, you internally groan. Less than an hour until your dogs are here. Fuck, you miss them.

There’s a flick of a lighter, the scent of leather and wood assaulting your nose. Then tobacco invades your senses. “What’s on your mind?”

Captain Price, the man who started it all. He’s a survivor. He might stand a chance at what’s coming next. It’s been a while since you’ve interacted with a man this intense. He’s a smart one. The cigar erases the mustiness of the room. Smells like home. You can feel your body relax, albeit slightly. Maybe you just need a smoke.

“The only family I have left,” you reply, yanking out your cigarettes. Your only photo lies folded in the nearly empty pack. You flick it to Price, your aim true as it rolls to the edge of the table. “Three dogs. Sir, Bear, and Ruse.”

Ghost shifts slightly in his chair, dark eyes on the photo as soon as Price uncrumples it. “Cerberus?”

You can see recognition flash in Price’s eyes. In all of theirs. At least they don’t try to hide it. Sunshine leans forward, his eyes reevaluating you. “You’re The Huntress.”

It’s not a question. He knows. They all do. Price hands the photo to Mr. Mohawk. You shake your head, “I haven’t been called that in a long time.”

“Fuckin’ unstoppable is what you should be called,” Mr. Mohawk chuckles, looking up from the photo. “I’ve seen yer work. Thorough, precise, efficient, and batshit crazy.”

“They say you’re a sniper hunter,” Ghost states, eyes blazing with intrigue. “That true?”

You nod, your index finger running over the scar on your chin. Mr. Mohawk’s bright ass blue eyes bore into your own. “Why the name change?”

Your muscles tense, feeling the weight of hundreds of hands pulling you down, down, down… Broken nails tear at your flesh, opening old wounds that never fully healed right. The screams ring in your ears, curses that taint your very soul to this day. “A story for another day.”

“Is this your original taskforce?” Price asks, pulling your attention away from his sergeant.

“Yes, it is,” you reply, lighting up your last cigarette. “Picked every single one of them myself. Two Polish battering rams, Maryna and Urszula Kowalski. They were always at each other’s throats, but they were the devil and angel on my shoulder.”

You take a long drag. They were the first ones to die.

The frequent migraines and metal plate in your skull are because of them, cracking your skull open before you could even walk off the transport. Their deaths were too quick, but watching the Semtex burst in the sisters’ faces was cathartic. Liars always fail to earn mercy from you. Traitorous ones at least. You exhale, releasing the tension. They don’t deserve to weigh down your conscience.

“August Lindemann, a German tech genius. Spoiled us with all the newest gadgets on the field.” You chuckle, dark eyes meeting Price’s. “I always said they’d make us lose our edge.”

For all the brains he had, they didn’t look so special splattered across the wall. You fought through the entire base to get to him. Cowering like the leach he was until he was the only one left. It didn’t even take cutting off his precious fingers to find out who organized all of this: General Sheperd. You know this leads deeper into the abyss, merely scratching the surface of this conspiracy.

“The last one is American; best shot I’ve ever seen and an even better medic. Dane Reid was a serious man, but he always kept everyone together.”

His ring lies against your chest, right next to yours. You scratch your right ear, digging your nails into what’s left of your upper cartilage. He was the best shot, but your dogs were loyal to no one except you. Even your husband. Using yourself as a decoy was risky, but Sir, Bear, and Ruse tearing him apart made the sacrifice worth it. And the bullet you put into his heart? Even more so.

You can’t wait to see them again.

“You and the dogs are the only ones left?” Sunshine asks, gently taking the photo from Price. “How did Laswell find you?”

“Wandering the Russian forest with stolen data,” you reply, picking at your broken nail. “She found me and the dogs months later.”

“An’ yer team?” Mr. Mohawk questions. “Wha’ about them?”

“I killed them all,” you answer, putting out the cig. You’ll save it for later, death usually ruins the taste. “They tried to sabotage the op. I only got one name when all of it was said and done, and you want to know who it was?”

You scan over every single one of them. The truth always hurts to tell, but you need them to live. You can’t lose anymore, not when Laswell holds these men to the highest regard. What did she say to them? Oh, yes, you need a team to survive with you. There’s too much death permeating the air. The smell of burnt flesh burns your nose.

“General Herschel Sheperd,” you snarl, the rage of Hyde breaking past Jekyll’s walls. “Laswell says you’re looking for him, and I want my pound of flesh.”

You’re sure they can see the insanity in your eyes, the ferality that consumed you in the forests of Russia and nestled its way into your very soul. Split into two beings, one desperate for peace and the other salivating for revenge. You’re not a Captain anymore. You’re nothing. Just a revenant walking amongst the living until your duty is fulfilled. Peace was never an option for you in life, only in death. You accepted that the day you lost your team, your only family. One gaze bears the most weight.

Your eyes catch Ghost’s. Dark eyes penetrate your soul, reading the scripture of your heart. Loyalty broken, trusted allies and friends betraying old bonds. Killing them. Broken, a living being inhabited by the scraps of its own psyche. Two peas in a fucked-up pod. Your phone vibrates on the table, one singular message popping up on your screen: They’re here.

“Thank fuck,” you mumble, pocketing your phone. “They’re here.” You’re itching to leave, to run to the last semblance of family you have.

Clearly, you’re too easy to read. Price stands, the others following suit. “Let’s go meet them then.”

Sunshine barely has the door open when you slip through, quickly maneuvering through the shitty corporate layout of the building until you reach the side lot. You can see them. Tears threaten to cloud your vision as you see Sir chase Ruse around the grass. Bear lays in the shade. Laswell notices your approach, giving you a small nod. You whistle loudly, their playtime immediately put on halt. It takes a second for the noise to bounce around their brains, immediately whining once it finally clicked. Sir, the eldest German Sheperd, is the first one to make it to you, whining and jumping in your arms. His love is always overwhelming, but it’s welcome.

Sir manages to hold onto your shoulders, forcing you to catch him to regain your balance. Only for Ruse, the younger Shepherd, to knock you to the ground. It startles a laugh out of you, a smile following soon after. God, it’s been too long since you’ve seen them. Bear in all her glory runs up and sits at your feet. Your smart girl. A Rottweiler mix, probably shepherd, but her fur pattern always draws you in. You coo, using whatever body part you can to pet all three of them. “Yeah, I missed you, too.”

You sneak them treats, whispering sweet nothings to each of them as you try to make up for lost time. Six months away from them has been torture. Then again, you thought you’d never see them again. Every op feels like the last.

“Forgive them, it’s been half a year since we’ve seen each other,” you turn to the group, sputtering when Ruse licks into your mouth. “CERBERUS!”

They fall in line perfectly, ears perked and waiting for orders. A hand pops into view, and you take it. Sunshine pulls you up, chuckling at the slobber left behind. He tilts his head, eyes catching something on your chest.

Frowning, you look down. Your rings are exposed. Tearing off the necklace, you shove it into your pocket. You’re allowed to have your secrets.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

[preciouslandmermaid]

🕸🕷 weapons don't weep 🕸🕷

pairing: insomniac peter parker/spider-man x huntress!reader --(reader is kraven’s daughter / fem-reader / reader has scars from fightin’, but no other descriptions are used)

rating: mature/explicit (18+)

prompt: "I would die for you." // "I don't want you to die." // "I would kill for you." // "I don't want you to kill." // "Then I have nothing to offer you." // (source)

tags: past enemies, secret identity, reveal of identity, canon-typical violence, established fwb relationship, POV second person, no use of Y/N, blood & injury, hurt/comfort, reader struggles to quantify her worth when she’s not being used as a weapon, explicit sexual content.

*takes place after the events of Insomniac 2.

-> the reader doesn’t know who spider-man is, but spider-man knows who she is, considering she doesn’t hide her face/identity. You can read the prior parts here and here or find the whole series on ao3.

🕷🕷( READ ON AO3 ) 🕷🕷

Peter doesn’t ask questions about your scars. Although, that’s maybe because you don’t let him. Whenever he opens his mouth in a querying manner with his eyes on the marks, you grab his chin and kiss him until he’s panting and wordless. This arrangement works better without questions.

You and Peter haven’t defined ‘it’ yet. So far, ‘it’ includes working his garage to help with his foundation, getting take-out, and fucking him on the couch or the floor (the bed, you wordlessly decided, was too intimate and so you started pulling his clothes off before he could get you there). Plus, it's thrilling to fuck Peter on the floor. It feels rushed, heady, and impulsive. Today, you skip the take-out and work your tongue across his sweaty, salty throat instead.

Your hand curls into his short, soft brown hair, and your nails graze against his scalp. You’ve never known how to let things go once you got your hands on them and Peter is no exception. He whines into the hollow juncture of your throat, his hips snapping into yours, and your nails dig into the solid, sinewy heat of his shoulder. Peter is surprisingly fit for a cute, nerdy researcher. His lean musculature cages you in and brings you to new heights.

“Oh fuck,” you bite out as your neck arches backward. Your hand glides across his damp skin until you reach the nape of his neck. You cling to him as he holds you in his arms, his thighs tucked between yours as he kneels beneath you and shallowly thrusts into you. “’m close,” you warn him, gasping.

“Already?” he teases, “so soon?” You hear the smile in his voice, feel it pressed against your collarbone, and you swallow the growl in your throat.

You say, “Oh, fuck off, Peter.” You clutch his scalp tighter, letting the strands pinch between your fingers, and tug.

“God, yes.” His breath tickles your moist neck.

When you and Peter started sleeping together, you assumed he was the romantic and sensual type. The type of guy to kiss you throughout sex and want to cuddle afterward. The type of guy who called it ‘making love’ instead of sex. Now, your assumptions weren’t too far off. Peter does like kissing you and he likes you close. But, you’ve figured out what kind of mood he’s in based on how he kisses you. And thankfully, he likes a little wildness, too. You doubt you could ever tame yourself—even for him.

He enjoys it when you rake your nails down his back, when you cover his collarbones in love bites or pin his wrists over his head when you’re riding him. It’s fun. His surprising athleticism and flexibility have resulted in a range of experimental positions, although, Peter seems to favor the ones that he can see your face. Again, you don’t talk about it.

The ridges of his cock slide gloriously through your folds, earning a hiccup torn from your throat, and Peter clutches tighter. The slow, shallow rocking creates a new, wonderful depth that presses into your front wall, sending pulsing shock wave after shock wave through your nerves. You whine. Your body trembles.

“I can feel you,” he rasps before his mouth works over your jaw. “Squeezing…” he bites the word out and clenches his eyes shut. There’s nothing you like more than seeing Peter reduced to putty in your hands. His fine cheekbones grow ruddy and his lips glisten with saliva. He’s so painfully earnest. All his emotions ricochet across his face like flames. Sweet, and cute Peter, with his tense arms and beautiful brown eyes, and his kissable mouth waiting for you to devour him.

You kiss him, stroking your tongue over his, and forcing your mouths to breathe the same air. “Peter,” you whimper, gyrating your hips, “gonna make me cum—you’re gonna make me—”

“Yeah?” he mumbles against your mouth, “want you to, want you so bad.”

Your swollen clit rubs against him, creating a slick and tempestuous friction, as his cock steadily thrusts into your drenched cunt. His calloused palm drags over your ribs, skating across raised scars and old bruises, before he cups your breast and squeezes it, kneading the flesh between his fingers, and pulling another moan from your throat.

“Peter, peter, p-peter,” you pant. Something inside of you shudders and cringes at this wanton, weak, and breathless tone that he carves from your chest. You buck into him as he rolls your tight, peaked nipple between his index and thumb. You are as taut as a compound bow drawn back to strike. You clutch his hair tighter, unraveling, and your other hand dug into the hard curve of his shoulder. Peter groans like you ripped the air from his chest. You snap and cry out as your walls pulse around his hard cock, your body quaking in quick, short bursts.

Your back hits the carpet and Peter – sweet, kind, generous – Parker thrusts hard, fucking you through the swelling waves of your orgasm, as the wet, slick sound floods your head and your heartbeat threatens to pound through your chest. You yank his hair and his head is pulled back, exposing the beautiful, vulnerable column of his throat that’s covered in reddish-purple bruises from your teeth and tongue. Through heavily lidded eyes, you watch his mouth drop open and release a guttural cry of your name before his hips snap erratically into yours and you feel him finish.

He’s huffing, gasping, like you wrought his soul and wrung it dry before he collapses forward and onto your chest. You loosen your grip on his hair and let your palm settle on his nape, idly stroking your fingers through the fine, sweaty hair at the base of his skull.

What would Peter say if he knew the real you? If he knew you grew up alongside hunters and trained to kill. If he knew you and your siblings were taught to compete for your father’s attention and praise—no, praise was the wrong word—Kraven gifted knives, not compliments.

It doesn’t matter now, of course. Kraven, and the rest of your family, are gone. Dead. You’re the lone huntress who remains for better or worse. Whether you earned your father’s respect or not is irrelevant.

But would Peter still press his lips feverishly to yours if he knew who you were? Really, truly knew you. If he knew of your nightmares, triumphs, and proud kills, would he still clutch you to your chest or hold your face in his hands while you came?

In a rare moment of post-coitus vulnerability, you say the quiet part out loud, “Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning because of you.”

Peter lifts his head from your breastbone, his flushed expression pinched with curiosity. “What?” His lips quirk into a smile. “Because of the sweat?”

Because of the goodness in you, you want to say. In the months that have passed in his company, even before sleeping together, you are – and continue to be – baffled by Peter’s selflessness. He helps old people carry their groceries, he leaves an extra penny (when he has one) in the dish at the bodega, and one time he helped a woman with her cumbersome, folded stroller on the subway stairs during a slushy, cold winter storm before joining you at the turnstile, and the way he gently held your bleeding hand and carefully wrapped your injured palm in gauze.

You close your eyes for a second, collecting yourself, remembering yourself, and you roll your eyes when you re-open them.

“Yes,” you reply, nudging his shoulder with your hand, “up and at ‘em, Parker.”

“You’re more than welcome to use the shower.” He places a quick, almost self-conscious kiss on your sticky cheek before sliding off of you. “But, I can’t promise there’s hot water,” he adds with a grimace.

You sit up, admiring your handiwork for a selfish moment. His tousled, fucked-with hair, the hickeys on his throat, the pink hue to his cheekbones and ears, and his glossy, pupil-wide eyes that regard you with...something...attraction, probably, if you had to guess.

“That’s alright.” You snatch your underwear from where it landed on the coffee table. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time, same place.”

Peter rubs the back of his neck. “You could stay,” he offers while pulling on his black boxer briefs. “It’s getting late.”

You scoff. It’s barely eight. “I promise I’ll get home safe.”

You can’t afford to indulge him – to be vulnerable is a death sentence. This arrangement is all you can give him. You can kiss him in the garage and let him hold the door open for you and suck his dick on the couch, but you can’t stay. To stay would be to admit that you feel safe with him. To stay would be to admit that you trust him. No. No. It’s better to go home, to your one-bedroom with pockmarked walls and your careful traps and scraps of Kraven’s leftover technology.

He doesn’t know the real you, you remind yourself, and that’s a good thing. Peter deserves someone uncomplicated for his little quiet life. You have no illusions about yourself and what you mean to him. This arrangement is built on mutual attraction and the stressors of late-night lab work. It’s a fun distraction. Nothing more. Nothing less. And, if you’re being honest, you like the simplicity of it.

Despite the horrors of being Kraven’s daughter, you liked having a place among the hierarchy and having a role to fulfill. A job. And Peter gave you that. He gave you a purpose outside the hierarchy of bloodshed, trophies, and cruel competition.

You are his partner in the foundation and you’re trying to find a cure for cancer. That’s your role. You just so happen to fuck him on the side, but that arrangement can be dissolved whenever without any hard feelings on your end. Simple. You like simple.

“Text me when you get home?” He holds the front door open for you.

You grab him by the collar of his cotton t-shirt and press your lips to his. He melts into you, his hands finding your waist, squeezing your hips, and pushing your spine against the doorframe. The kiss has your toes scrunching inside your boots and you’re almost tempted to take him up on his offer – stay and earn a hundred more kisses, and a few more orgasms until you’re boneless and drunk on dopamine. You sigh into his mouth and catch his lower lip between your teeth and give him a light, teasing suck before releasing it.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind?” he breathes, sounding ever-so-eager.

You pull away, smirking. “Nope.”

He places one hand over his heart. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

A surprised laugh escapes your throat. “No way. You’ve got the spirit of someone who will live into their eighties and spend retirement feeding ducks and pigeons in the park.”

Peter smiles, though it’s hard to know if he’s smiling because of your joke or your unexpected laughter.

“If I’m lucky,” he says, still smiling.

***

“You know,” Spider-Man begins, his legs swinging over the ledge of the building you were both perched upon, “you said ‘one time’, but if I’ve done my math right, then this is like the hundredth time you’ve helped me.”

You don’t remove the binoculars from your face. “Your point?”

“Just makin’ observations,” his tone is light, but there’s something else there – you can sense it as easily as you sense animals moving through the brush. You drop the binoculars and let them dangle from your throat where they bump against the sore pieces of your chest that Peter marked. The subtle, thrilling twinge of pain sharpens your focus.

“I’m not doing this for free,” you remind him.

His lenses widen. “I’m supposed to pay you?!” he asks incredulously. “Since when?”

You shake your head. “I have my reasons for tagging along when your targets are interesting enough,” you say, “and they aren’t monetary.”

“Then what is it? It can’t just be my company.” You hear the smile in his voice. “Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were.”

You bite back your smile, bring the binoculars back to your face, and return your attention to the street. Sometimes, Spider-Man will say something that reminds you so fiercely of Peter that it makes your heart ache. A good person would cut ties with Parker, end the arrangement, and let him find an uncomplicated lover without a serrated, damaged heart. But, alas, you’re not a good person. You decide to text Peter after this and see if he’s interested in pretending to watch a movie with you.

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Who?”

Your reply is short. “That’s none of your business.”

He sighs and mutters almost to himself, “Can’t blame a guy for trying…”

***

Your plans to text Peter fly out the proverbial window when the explosion sends you flying into a concrete wall. There’s no way he won’t question the bruises that’ll undoubtedly litter your back like Dalmatian spots.

You cough, rolling onto your side, and blink past your tears toward the shifting shadowed shapes of Spider-Man and the armored human on the flying bat-shaped glider.

The smoke has a strange, otherworldly green hue. Your instincts kick in. Your knees curl forward as your palms brace yourself and you push upright and remain crouched. You tug the scarf around your neck toward your nose and cover your mouth. You recognize toxic bullshit when you see it.

You notch an arrow and squint through the haze. Spider-Man moves insanely fast. His body contorting and twisting, dodging near-fatal blows at the last second, and jumping back into the fray like a snapped rubber band. But, your opponent matches Spider-Man in speed, using the glider to dodge or flip out of the way of his webs. You hold your breath and a bead of sweat tickles your temple.

“Easy,” Kraven’s voice fills your head. The smoke shifts to verdant, lush leaves surrounded by moist heat, intensified by the recent rainfall, and you are surrounded by your father’s breath and the hum of insects. Your fingers press into your cheek as you draw the bowstring back. The green-armored villain tosses several blades and Spider-Man stumbles back, clutching his ribs, and your breath trembles. You must kill this creature. You must find it’s weak point. The tip of your arrow tracks toward the villain's skull. The design of it is strange. It’s almost...impish.

‘It’s too well protected’, you think, frowning behind your scarf, ‘we need a different opening.’

Kraven admonishes, “Do not rush, Huntress.”

The yellow eyes pierce you through the leaves. You release your arrow and it sings through the air before catching on the goblin’s large, insect-like yellow eyes of his helmet. As the impact rings through the smoke and fire-filled building and the goblin is knocked from his glider, another sound cuts the air, and a rush of wet, warm copper fills your mouth.

You glance down and stare stupidly at the two small blades that are lodged inside your chest. Your yelp is strangled by the blood in your throat. The concrete beneath your knees is strange and off-putting. Weren’t you outside? You cough and bloody phlegm splatters on your shirt and over your chin.

A cry rips from Spider-Man’s throat, “Huntress!”

“What did I tell you?” Kraven sneers. “Too soon. You could have killed him if you had waited.”

“Shut up,” you say thickly, stowing your compound bow on your sore, bruised back. “I’m busy.” Spider-Man still needed your help. You’ve thrown the goblin off, but he isn’t giving up. His wide, bleeding eyeball glares at you through the broken yellow glass even as he defends himself against Spider-Man’s agile attacks.

Kraven says, “Is that any way to speak to your father? You will choke on those words, girl.”

You pull your hunting knife from the sheath on your thigh. “Looking forward to it.”

The pain should cripple you, but you’ve trained under more duress than this. Your inhale is ragged and impeded by the stuffy, claustrophobic heat. It’s agony. Your lungs, with joyously shared breath with Peter a few hours ago, rattle and crinkle with blood. You push forward and into the chaos. The goblin is faster than you expected for a target that’s covered in iridescent green armor that’s reminiscent of a beetle's shell.

The upside to fighting with Spider-Man and against him is that you know his technique. You know how he moves, where his feet will be, and how he follows through. There is a fluidity to it that you’ve never experienced with any other hunt. Your blade clangs loudly against the forearm armor of the goblin, and it’s enough of a distraction for Spider-Man to get a good, solid hit.

However, you sense the fight isn’t over. You understand, through virtue of being Kraven’s daughter, that this creature, this man, will fight to the death.

The black shadows start to crawl at the edges of your vision. You grunt and block a kick that would’ve landed on your sternum. You clench your jaw and your blade, trying to fight off the prickling numbness that trickles into your fingers.

“Careful, Spidey.” The Green Goblin laughs. “Your girlfriend doesn’t look too good.”

“You could make this easy by just giving up,” says Spider-Man, “have a nice and relaxing vacation in jail. But noooo! Bad guys always gotta -” he lands a kick “- make things so-” another kick, followed through with two quick web bursts “-difficult!”

A small lick of pride works up your spine. Spider-Man isn’t merely holding his own. He’s pushing the goblin backward, cornering him, and soon there will be nowhere left for him to run. The goblin laughs. Something flashing catches your attention. It’s the goblin’s glider and it’s – your eyes widen with realization - oh fuck – it's counting down. You shove your blade into the Green Goblin’s armpit, the only weak point you managed to catch and grab Spider-Man’s arm.

“Trap,” you wheeze. The bomb-rigged glider has barely five seconds remaining. Your body jolts and a pained scream shapes your mouth as Spider-Man pulls you into his arms and shoots a web toward the broken, metal support beams above.

There is a rush of smoke and cinders and terrible, terrible heat.

“Stay with me,” Spider-Man says above the roar. You cling to him, your chest and stomach slick with blood and smearing against his red and blue suit. The void swallows your vision. The world is a blur, a rush of sound and sensation, and your head lolls backward.

***

You smell singed, burnt clothing. You taste is metallic, harsh blood. You wiggle your fingers. You are, for the time being, alive.

You open your eyes and catch Spider-Man removing his burned mask. Short, brown hair and earnest coffee-hued eyes, his skin smudged with soot, and trails of shiny blood glistened from both ears.

“Oh good,” you wheeze, “it’s you.” You want to laugh, all the little moments of Spider-Man reminding you of Peter now make sense in retrospect. You resist the urge to giggle. You don't need further pain added to your delirium. 

“If it was anyone else,” you continue, “I don’t think I’d die for them. But, I would die for you.”

It’s such an easy truth to give him. Peter, who gave you purpose beyond bloodshed, is a worthy person to die for. Spider-Man, your once-enemy, a worthy adversary, who risked his life for a city that you weren’t sure deserved him, is a worthy person to die for. You’re glad they’re one and the same.

Peter crawls to you, hands tenderly cupping your jaw, and says, “I don’t want you to die.”

Your fingers trail lightly over his bruised cheekbone. “I’d kill for you, too, if that means anything.”

“I don’t want you to kill,” he chokes the words out.

“Mhm.” The tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Pain or grief? It’s hard to tell. “Then I have nothing to offer you.”

How shameful to admit it. You are a weapon and weapons don’t weep, but here you are – you are weeping. You try to muffle it because it’ll hurt from the blades protruding from your skin that pieced into your body armor, and because it’s been so many years since you’ve cried that you think you might’ve forgotten how.

“Don’t – don’t say that.” His thumbs stroke your face and graze over your lips. “You’re more than Kraven’s offspring and you’re brighter than his legacy ever was. You are more – so, so so much – more than that. Now, hold on, for me? Okay? Help is coming.”

You close your eyes. In that building of greenish smoke and torn-asunder concrete and twisted metal, was it really your father’s ghost that came to help you and taunt you in equal measure? Perhaps it was. It serves as a good reminder. You’re a killer. A hunter. No matter how domesticated you pretend to be, you cannot escape the thrill and excitement you feel before and during a hunt, and that delight, that euphoric release, cannot be replicated and it cannot be tamed. You drop your hand from Peter’s face and weakly hold his wrist, your thumb pressing into his pulse point.

This is always how your story was meant to go. You are destined to die at the hands of a greater predator – just as your father before you. How foolish of you to dream otherwise. How naive.

“I am what they made me,” you admit softly.

“Stop.” Peter shakes your shoulder and your eyes snap open with a pained, sharp wince. “Stop acting like this is goodbye. I need you to fight this, Huntress. I need…” He swallows and his eyes are bright, almost glassy when they meet yours. “I need you.”

A thousand arguments jump to your tongue but you don’t have the energy to articulate them. The tempestuous pull of oblivion laps at your consciousnesses like the swell of the sea. It would be so easy to let go, to release, and to succumb. So, so easy. No more pain. No more doubts about your place in the world. No more pacing around your apartment waiting for the next call to action. No more desperate searching for your father’s half-brother. You don’t even understand why you want to find him.

‘I don’t want to be alone anymore,’ you think in a shock of clarity (it seems near-death has its uses). Your eyelashes flutter. The lull of the void sings her siren’s call to you. It would be so, so easy to let go.

“You aren’t alone,” Peter says urgently. Oh fuck. You said it out loud. How does this keep happening? How does he keep effortlessly pulling the truth from you? Your defenses are good. They’re well-built and maintained and nobody has ever, ever managed to get past them.

Until him.

“Listen to me,” he says your name sweetly and desperately. Usually, that tone is reserved for when you’re lost in the throes of each other's skin, and so, you do as he wishes. You force your eyes to remain open, and you hold his gaze even though it feels like he’s burning you with it, and you grip his wrist tighter – let him be your anchor, your tether, to this wicked, heartless world.

“When I lost Harry, and when I lost Aunt May, I thought I’d never...be capable of finding someone like you...and I was afraid to let someone get close. And I’m terrified...I am so fucking scared that I’m going to lose you. I don’t want to lose you,” he says your name again as if to punctuate his sentence.

“I don’t care about your family, or your history, or any of it. I care about you. So, stay. I’m asking you to stay. Please. Please stay,” he says through his tears and you clumsily reach forward, gripping the front of his suit, and pulling him weakly toward you. You press your forehead against his. His expression fractures with tenderness and it presses into your skin like a hot, sizzling brand.

“Apply pressure to the wound,” you whisper, tasting blood and salt, “and keep me talking.”

He does as you ask and you do as he asks. For the second time in your life when Spider-Man asks you to stay – you do.

[your-goth-sis]

HI BAE IM LIKE 90% SURE YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPENNN.

Anywaysssss

I've seen loads of different aus but I've been really into self aware recently. so could I request a self aware dbd x fem!reader oneshot (I think u do dbd? I know u do danny Johnson so if u don't do any other dbd characters danny is okay I love him 🥰🥰)

I would like danny, trickster, trapper, amanda and wesker pretty pls or like just one if that's too much.

headcannons on how they would act of reader playing them in dbd, switching to a different character or switching to survivor and stuff like them being jealous and interacting with reader, voicelines etc.

thanks a bunch baby girl <333

Heyy pookie 🥰🥰🥰 Idk if I read this wrong so I If did read this wrong, PLEASE LET ME KNOW TYSM 🥰🥰🥰🤩🤩🤩😍😍 I think I'd only do two for now and make a part two 🤝🏻

The Trickster (Ji-Woon Hak)

You sat down in your chair, ready to play dbd

You press space to proceed through the loading screen and as you were around to put on your headphones, HE appeared

"Hey babe" his voice jump scared you.

You jumped a little "Ji-Woon!" you panted "Damn..."

He chuckled "What you got there?" he averts his eyes to the screen

"Dead by Daylight" you answered

"Hmm ohhhh, you know I'm in this game, right?"

"Yep" you switched to killer and selected him

"Beautiful" he mumbled "You don't happen to have any skins for me, right?"

"I do" you went to the customization tab and selected your favourite skin "Wait actually I feel like playing Huntress" as you were about to switch, you felt a deadly aura surrounding you.

"N... No, you have to play me" Ji-Woon's jealousy raised to the roof

"I'm so sorry! I'll play you

"Good girl"

Danny Johnson

You were sitting on Danny's lap as you opened the game.

"Which killer are you gonna pick, Doll?" he questioned, expecting you to pick him.

"You obviously" you smiled, selecting him. He had the classic Scream outfit with the zombie mask. Very nice.

"Of course you'd play me" he lowers his mouth to your ears "I'm the best, afterall"

You shivered "Y-Yeah but I also feel like playing Freddy-"

"Freddy? That weak mf that no one plays? Honey... You can't be serious"

You chuckled "I was just kidding"

"You'll be punished for this" he picked you up and took you to your shared room. Oh boy.

[yesihaveaobsession]

The Ultimate Bet

Alastor x Dean Winchester x female!huntress reader

Summary: Your soul is on the table, and Alastor wants it, why not settle it through a game of poker?

A/N- Sorry if this suck I barely know anything about poker! Anyways enjoy!! I googled a lot of this ... HA

The lounge of the hotel was dimly lit, the only light source being the overhead lamp above the poker table. The usual cheerful chatter was hushed tonight, as all eyes were on the table. Alastor sat with his perpetual grin, eyes filled with mischief, having the best poker face of them all. Opposite him sat an infamous rugged hunter, Dean Winchester, who was leaning back in his chair, his gaze steely.

You, a fearless huntress and good friend of Dean's, stood by his side, your heart racing. Your soul was on the line. Alastor wanted another soul to add to his collection, and yours interested him the most. You had encountered Alastor a few years back; this wasn't your first time in this hell. You had bumped into him at a bar, even before the hotel existed and before he disappeared for those seven years. Now, you two met again, here for a purpose.

Husker stood behind the table, dealing the cards. He dealt two cards to each player, then spread five community cards—three at once, then one more, then another—forming the basis for their best possible five-card hand. This was indeed a game of Texas Hold'em.

Alastor's smile widened as he tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table, the sound echoing through the silent room like a heartbeat. Dean, on the other hand, was focused and determined despite the weight on his shoulders. His pretty green eyes stared at the cards in his hands.

"You know," Alastor drawled, his voice dripping with amusement, "I do love a good game of chance. And this one… well, it's particularly exciting, wouldn't you say?" He broke the silence. Dean looked up through his eyelashes at the demon, then back at his cards.

As the game began, the tension grew. Even Husk was boiling with stress watching the game unfold, knowing how good a player Alastor was. Dean's mind raced as he calculated the odds, while Alastor seemed almost relaxed, his confidence unwavering.

Round after round, the chips piled up, and the stakes grew higher. Dean tried to catch the Radio Demon bluffing and calculate his next move, but there was no stress behind that smile and those red eyes. Alastor let out a laugh. Finally, when Dean was ready, he peeked at his hand, glancing at a pair of aces and a king. He watched Alastor closely, looking for any tell that might give away the demon's strategy. Alastor, still grinning, called the bet, his own cards held close to his chest.

"So, Dean," Alastor said, casually tossing a chip into the pot, "how confident are you feeling about this hand? Confident enough to risk it all?"

"Confident enough to know you're bluffing," Dean sneered.

"Ah, is that so?" Alastor questioned. The pot grew bigger with each round. Finally, it came down to the last hand. Dean looked at his cards, his face betraying nothing. Alastor's grin was as wide as ever, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes.

"All in," Dean said, pushing his remaining chips to the center of the table. Alastor nodded. The cards were revealed, and the room held its breath. Dean's hand was strong, but Alastor's was stronger. The Radio Demon let out a triumphant laugh, his victory all but assured.

"Looks like luck is on my side tonight," Alastor purred, reaching for the chips. But Dean wasn't done yet. With a quick, almost imperceptible movement, he revealed an extra card hidden up his sleeve. The room fell silent as the realization dawned: Dean had outplayed the demon.

Everyone gasped slightly. Despite the smile, Alastor's eyes widened. Dean showed a cocky smile, looking over at you to see the relief and practically hearts in your eyes. Dean looked back at the demon who sat across from him.

Dean leaned back in his chair, a triumphant smirk on his lips. "Don't mess with a Winchester."

"Clever," Alastor said. With a flick of his wrist, Dean swept the chips toward him, securing your soul. He flipped the card that he had up his sleeve and flicked it at Alastor, then stood from the chair and made his way over to you, hugging you.

"Thank you," you whispered.

[the-marshals-wife]

Keep Me Close (Tech x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

*BELOW THE CUT THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR S2 EP 8: TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES*

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, babes! I'm hitting two mynocks with one stone: writing something short and sweet for my favorite Batcher and processing my emotions over [redacted].

Description: Tech x Fem!Reader Batcher, semi-established relationship (there's an unspoken thing *wink*) | Warnings: none, hurt+comfort fluff | Word count: 804 | Gif credit: user dreamswithghosts

★ Bad Batch Tag List ★ @dantes-devil-huntress @sageislostinspring @sweetheart-bo (comment to be added!)

Imagine being unable to sleep, upset by Echo's departure, and turning to Tech for comfort

The ship was stuffy. Your mind was full. The future was uncertain. It was the perfect mixture of reasons to be restless.

You'd removed the top half of your blacks and tied it around your waist, putting on a tank top in hopes of cooling down. Sitting on the lowered ramp of The Marauder, you stared into the misty night sky, feeling trapped by the stale silence. Your eyes began to sting, emotions starting to overcome you. How could so much have changed so quickly?

The sound of footsteps pulled you from your troubled thoughts, and you didn't have to turn around to know who approached. The rapid tapping of gloved fingers on a datapad was enough for you to recognize him.

"You are unable to sleep," Tech says.

It wasn't a question. He'd just stated it as a fact, as he did with most things.

"Not really," you answer, quickly wiping at your eyes.

"I suspect there is a reason," he begins, sitting down beside you, "Would it ease your mind if you shared your concerns with me?"

Your heart skipped at the prospect, and at how near he was.

"I'll be alright, really," you hesitate, trying to compose yourself.

"The tension in your voice and your constrained body language suggests otherwise," he replies, putting away his datapad.

You can't help but chuckle, "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"Not really," he parrots your words. He removes his helmet and puts it aside. You're surprised to see he's smiling ever-so-slightly.

You sigh, trying put your many thoughts into words. "We've all lost so much. After all our fighting and all our running, sometimes I've wondered what it was all for. But I thought as long as we stayed together, things would be alright. We would figure it out because together we had hope. Now, I'm afraid that we've lost it."

Tech pushes up his goggles before responding.

"I know it may seem that way, but Echo did not leave because he had no hope," he offers, "He believes that there are better ways apart from this squad that he can help preserve hope, and if he is successful, pass it on to others."

"I thought we were already doing that," you reply, shaking your head, "I know we have to be careful, especially for Omega's sake, and we can't fight The Empire the same way others can, but I thought we were making some kind of difference."

"Echo's departure does not necessarily signify failure in our pursuits."

"But aren't we stronger together than apart?" you ask, looking to him.

Tech blinks slowly, visibly weighing your question. Surely he is bothered by all this too?

"Theoretically, yes. But our objections cannot change what has happened," he admits.

Your gaze falls back to your boots, shame setting in. How selfish you must sound. "You're right. I don't think less of Echo. Truly I don't," you say, holding your arms, "I just don't want to lose this squad, and I really don't want to lose..."

You were desperate to say it, but the word caught in your throat. Tears threaten to return. This is not how it was supposed to go. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bow your head, hoping he wouldn't see your entire façade crumbling.

You nearly jump as you feel his hand gently clasp your shoulder. You look up to see his soft brown eyes, full of warmth and understanding.

"I do not have plans to go any place where you cannot also be," he affirms, "And I intend to never make such plans."

A tear slips down your cheek as you choke back a sob. Whatever was left of your composure, he'd just destroyed it, and somehow it was the push you needed.

You lean over to rest your head on his chest. You hold your breath as you feel him tense up at the contact. Fear washes over you that you've gone too far, and you're about to sit up, but then he carefully wraps his arm around you, holding you close.

You purse your lips, trying not to grin. How long you had waited for this moment. Heart racing, you close your eyes and wish for time to stop. So many words had passed between you over the months, but now you could barely speak.

"Tech?" you breathe.

"Yes?"

"I never want to make those kinds of plans either," you say, relaxing into him more.

"It's settled then," he confirms, proceeding to rest his chin upon the top of your head.

It was settled. You knew with absolute certainty that this is where you wanted to be. You were stronger together, and no matter what became of the galaxy, together you and Tech would stay.

[fishyvamp]

Readers choose DbD killer(s) x M!reader

Part 1

The air was sharp and cold against your bare skin. You don't remember anything, about you or where you were. Towering figures talking above you staring down at you as if assessing what you were, “This thing is supposed to entertain us?” A particularly tall one growled, his body built and toned. A skull of some kind hiding his face. “Such weakness,” he growled, turning away, “kill it, feed it to someone, keep it, I don't give two shits, just keep it out of my sight.” The words were harsh, but yet you understood what he was saying.

The lanky one stared down, eyes glowing white as he bent down. Fingers dragging gingerly along your face before carefully pulling a blanket up over you. Wraith didn't know what to do. His mind was a mess as he felt like he needed to help you, but he didn't know how. “What am I to do?” He whispered, rising to pace the space.

This was strange, you were neither a killer or a survivor, nor were you monster of the fog. He, Trapper, Hillbilly, Nurse, and Huntress were handed you after Tryks appeared out of the fog saying some joke about “the wife needs a break from yer Goddamn tantrums. Have a toy and try not to break it.” All before she disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Wraith didn't know the wife in question, but he had his guesses. His footsteps echoing against the walls of this empty shack, too many things going on in his head as he started to count the things in the room even resorting to mental math. He felt overwhelmed and worse yet the other killers had left him to tend to you. How could they do this to him?

This wasn't like the trials, there were no rules, no one to tell him what to do. He was bad with people, worse with strangers. His teeth gnawing on his bottom lip as began to frantically drum his fingers against his leg. His head turned just in time to see you stir. Your body felt heavy and groggy like you had been drugged or something.

The stealth killer by your side in a moment. “Are you okay child?” His voice was soft but scratchy like it wasn't in use often. The cords fatigued almost.

[offbranddrpepsi]

Hello! Could you do a Reyna X gn!reader that is mute and their dating? (Maybe you could also add how she first viewed reader since their mute and joined the Valorant protocol, also if she would learn sign language or not)

Apologies if my English wasn't the best.

Have a great day/night! <3

Your English was perfectly fine and I can MORE than do this and absolutely love this ask!

When you first met Reyna it was a matter of being less annoying than the other agents since you seemed to rarely speak however that changed when she found out you couldn't. As a paragon of her community and an avid advocate for those who struggle, be them Radiant or humans, it wasn't much of a surprise when she didn't bat an eye at their newest agent being different from the rest. You couldn't speak, what of it? In her eyes you were just as worthy and capable as anyone else on the team and what mattered more was how you fought for their cause. As you made an effort to get to know the other agents she was very receptive, answering your questions and chatting with you via note pads and later texting. Once she saw how you would move your hands when talking to some of the other agents, though that was few, she would raise the question if that was easier for you and if that was the case she would learn your native language and would learn the sign language for it to her best ability. Perhaps this is why the two of you grew as close as you did as fast as you did or maybe it was just one of the many factors that helped the relationship blossom. As some agents are more dense and sign language has a bit of a learning curve, as well as isn't as common as it should be in all honesty, Reyna took her lessons seriously and offered to act as your voice when ever you'd allow while also encouraging the other agents to learn how to read your voice rather than hear it often encouraging them to sign as she helped interpret . She also would regularly hound them to be more attentive to you when you signed and visually expressed yourself, ensuring that not only her eyes found you and understood you. Once you became her partner she devoted her entire being to learning all the things you said without your hands. Keen eyes were nearly always trained on your face and body as she showers you with affection, seeing how you react so she could be alerted at the slightest change in your receptiveness. Her huntress eyes found a new use in this way. No piece of you went missed. Reyna knew your interests, how you looked when excited, the little fidgeting you did when you were trying to figure out how to sign what you wanted to say; nothing escaped her and she adored all of it and made that known. There was scarce a moment where you felt unseen or unheard and never one where you felt unloved.

Of course her efforts to be in-tune to you didn't just stop at staring and paying attention. Reyna herself started to gradually change. The other agents noted her being less verbally affectionate to you as she was others. While she would shower her beloved 'children' in words of affirmation and pet names she instead would greet you with a few sweet words. In the place of words were signing, sweet kisses placed on your head, that smile that only you seemed to get, her un-gloved fingers rubbing circles on your cheeks, shoulders, or hands. If you'd allow it she would either have her arms wrapped around you in some way or would be wrapped around yours in turn. You are her sweet little love and everyone is well aware of it. Despite never speaking her ears are still as keen as always and especially sensitive to you. From your foot steps to the way you breath she knows it all. The moment you step into a room her ears are on you and her eyes always join the moments after, a simple sign asking if its okay to come to you usually presented with them. Reyna is a woman that doesn't enjoy loud sounds due to her heightened hearing but she encourages you to make them if you need her attention and don't already have it, the other agents envy you for this but would never dare voice it. Nearly all her senses are devoted to you as is she. Reyna love's you fiercely and will defend you at all costs if allowed as she does still understand that her advocacy isn't always needed, you are after all more than capable of getting your message across as you've proved countless times. On the battle field, as signing isn't the most ideal, she was the one who bothered Killjoy into creating you a communication device to alert them of various intel or if you needed someone to 'speak' to. Because of you their call out system entirely changed for the better as it made up for other language barriers and just difficulties in communication. Reyna looked on with such pride, and a bit of smugness, as Killjoy put your name on it. Reyna would happily stay by your side for life, becoming eventually fluent in sign language and naturally using it as she spoke. You're her partner and that means she would do absolutely anything for you no matter the difficulty. If your native language, the one you signed in, was different than hers then she would also become fluent in its spoken form as an extra effort and to perhaps try and be a bit of a show off to your family/friends.

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg <3

Surprising News

Jotun!King!Loki x fem!Æsir!Queen!Reader

Summary: You are suffering from circulation problems since a few weeks, which gets your husband quite concerned. Unbeknowst to either of you, is a sweet surprise waiting to be discovered.

Warnings: fluff, bit angst, protective Loki, some health issues, pregnancy stuff

Word Count: 3,4k

a/n: I'm back, guys! 😁 This oneshot is based on an idea @eleniblue had. I hope y'all like it! I do, 'cause it's definitely not how it 'normally goes'. 😊

P.S I have no idea why I chose that gif. 🥴🫡

Tagging: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @theaudacitytowrite @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @evelyn-kingsley @chantsdemarins @vanilla-daydreaming @valencia-rou @loz-3 @simping-for-marvel @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @linaax @mochie85 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @november-rayne @mandywholock1980

(Continuing in the tags :))

Ice Flower Masterlist ❄ Loki Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

It all started a few weeks ago, while taking a stroll through the royal gardens in Asgard, as you visited your family.

Circulation problems.

It wasn't that bad, though. You had felt a bit dizzy, but nothing more; brushing it off and telling yourself that it was caused by the sudden change of temperatures. Sure, it was summer. On Jotunheim as well, but there it was definitely colder than on Asgard. Problem solved - you thought.

But then it came back. Only a few days later, when you were on the way to the city with your husband for the monthly visit of your folk. It came suddenly. It was unpredictable. You swallowed hard; eyes squeezing shut as your hand gripped the fabric of your dress tightly; knuckles turning white.

Loki - who sat opposite you in the open carriage noticed your distress - of course and leaned forward; hand gently touching your hand with a worried look in his eyes. "Is everything alright, flower?" You nodded quickly; not trying to cause your husband to worry further. "Yes, my king. Just a bit dizzy." Loki frowned, but nodded. "Do you wish to return to the palace and do this another day?" Again, you shook your head. "No, no! It's alright. I'm good." "Very well. Your decision, my queen."

The next time it occurred, was on the summer hunt. Sure, you weren't hunting yourself, but you accompanied Loki - like you always did. In your eyes, it was an obligation as the queen to join in on the hunt. So, you did. Unfortunately, the circulation problems got worse... It wasn't just the dizziness which increased. Slight nausea joined the party as well. You shortly had the feeling you were going to faint. Everyone was immediately at your side - with Loki leading the way. Luckily, it subsided after a few minutes, and again you brushed it off.

But Loki really started to worry by now. So, it was no wonder, that he sought talks with you...

A knock on the door ripped you out of the documents you were reading; head snapping up. "Yes?" Ivan - one of your personal guards stepped inside; taking a deep bow. "The king wishes to speak to you, your majesty." You couldn't suppress the smile which instantly darted over your face at the Jotun's words. "Please, let him in." Ivan nodded and stepped aside; letting Loki enter your study. Before your husband went to greet you, he turned to the guard. "Leave. I wish to be alone with my wife." Ivan took another bow, "Of course, my king." and left the room. Almost giddily, you stood up and rounded the big, wooden desk. "Hello, my beautiful, precious flower." You immediately went to hug Loki; arms crossing behind his neck. "Hello, my king." You bit your lip; smiling, before you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him.

"What brings you here, my love?" At your question, Loki's demeanour shifted immediately. A sigh left his lips, and you could swear that you saw worry in his eyes. "We need to talk, darling." Your brows furrowed. "You seem very serious... What is it?" Loki took your hand and led you to the chair. He sat down, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his strong arms around you. He took a deep breath; deep ruby eyes gazing into yours. "I am worried about you, my love." You blinked, but knew exactly what Loki was talking about. Nevertheless, you tried to cover it up. "Worried? About me? Why?" "Your circulation problems." You just wanted to open your mouth to speak, when Loki cut you off. "No, no, please... Don't deny it. I saw. I noticed. Flower, please... Go to the healers and get this checked. I need to know that the love of my life is alright."

You sighed; "Loki... I am alright. It's nothing. Just a few stress symptoms." brushing it off once again. But Loki wasn't very convinced. "I am not so sure of this, Y/N. You should really go to-" You interrupted your husband; shushing him with a kiss on the lips. "I am fine. Stop worrying."

At that moment in time, you had no idea, that you were going to eat your words only a week later...

"My king, I don't know if we can trust this convention. Something about all this seem off to me." One of Loki's advisors spoke up; scratching his beardy chin. The king of Jotunheim was in the middle of an important converging with his royal advisors. "And what is it you are suggesting?" He asked; crossing his bulging arms over his chest. "I suggest that your majesty-" The advisor didn't come any further; got interrupted by a guard, who just barged inside the room. It was Ivan.

Loki hated it, when somebody did that and was about to chide the man, when he spoke up quickly. "My king! I apologise for the harsh interruption, but..." The Jotun panted; trying to catch his breath. "...but it's urgent! An emergency! The queen, she... She almost had a circulatory collapse!"

The words had merely left Ivan's lips, when Loki immediately jumped up from his seat. Adrenaline shot through his body, causing his heart to fall over the cliff and beat as fast as if it had a race to win. "She what?!" The guard just nodded frantically; unable to form any words at the king's 'outburst'. "When?! Where?!" "I-In the gardens, your majesty. A few minutes ago. I-I was with her and brought her immediately to the healers." Loki gave the guard a last look, before he stormed past him; literally running towards the medical wing of the palace. Anxiety started to flood the king's system; infecting his body like poison. He had told you. He had warned you; had begged you to seek out the healers, but no, you didn't want to listen - and now you seemingly paid the price. A price Loki wasn't willing for you to pay. He couldn't lose you. Not today, not now. Every possible worst-case scenario played out in his head on the way to the healers.

To his surprise, he was already expected...

One of the friendly, Jotun female healers waited patiently in front of the big, wooden doors; hands clasped together in front of her body. "My king." She started and curtsied. "We thought you would come here as fast as possible." Loki didn't beat about the bush, of course.

"I want to see my wife! I demand to know what is wrong!" He was quickly losing his patience; his temper taking over. After all, this was about Y/N... About his lover's health and safety!

The healer gave him a short, soft smile. "She's well and asleep now. Please, your majesty, I can assure you that she is perfectly healthy." Loki blinked; totally confused. "But... Where are those circulatory problems coming from?! There must be something wrong!" "We should sit down and have a chat, my king." The healer answered calmly; gesturing towards one of the smaller treatment rooms. "Please, follow me." She started to walk towards the room - away from you, and Loki had no other choice than to follow. He wanted to know what was going on - and that was seemingly his only option.

Still walking the lines between confusion and scepticism, the king sat down on the chair. The healer closed the door behind herself and joined him; sitting down opposite of him. Nobody could hear what she told Loki then. He was the only witness of her words.

"What?!" Loki choked out; eyes widening. He couldn't believe what his ears had just heard. For the second time within minutes, he felt completely overwhelmed, like one of the biggest stones just had hit him. "Are... Are you certain of this, milady?" The elderly lady nodded. "We are, my king. We checked. Twice." An audible gasp left his lips, as his brain tried to fully process the information. "Does she know? Does my wife know?" She shook her head. "No. We didn't quite have the chance to talk to the queen, as she passed out in exhaustion as soon as we regulated and stabilised her circulatory." The king nodded. "I wish to tell her." "Of course, your highness."

"I... I need a moment now." The healer smiled. "Of course, my king." Loki had a hard time to not show his emotions so openly; needing to suppress some tears. "Am I allowed to see my wife?" "Whenever you wish, your majesty." With those words the woman left the room, leaving Loki alone. The king ran his hands over his face and through his thick, luscious locks, before he took a few deep breaths of relief and happiness; even letting some tears fall down his cheeks. He had definitely needed the small moment for himself - but then he couldn't wait to see you. 

Gently closing the door - not to wake you - Loki stepped inside the big, cosy, but medically looking room. With his eyes not leaving your frame, he walked over to you and sat down on the chair beside the bed. A smile grazed his lips as he watched you sleep so peacefully.

Loki would wait by your side, until you woke up again. He had no intention to wake you. So, that's what he did... Waiting.

The king had no idea how long he waited. Perhaps only half an hour; perhaps three hours. He didn't know; lost the feeling for time.

A soft, sweet groan left your lips, before you furrowed your eyebrows for a moment; eyes fluttering open. Loki reacted immediately; greeting you with his deep, gentle voice. "Hello, my darling flower. Did you sleep well?" You blinked a few times; head turning to face your husband. "Loki?" He nodded. "I'm here, my love, I am here." One of his big, cerulean hands went to cup your face; thumb gently stroking the skin of your right cheek. You leaned in his touch, of course; feeling warmth spreading throughout your body.

"Why am I here? What happened?" You asked; slightly confused why you were in the medical wing. "You almost had a circulatory collapse. In the gardens. Ivan brought you here and alarmed me. I came as fast as possible, but the healers told me you were asleep." You swallowed hard. You could remember that you had been, indeed, in the gardens, but then everything got blurry. "Oh norns..." "I was quite worried - and I told you to seek out the healers, but you just didn't want to listen..." You squeezed your eyes shut; feelings of guilt over rolling you. "I-I know that now. I'm so sorry, my love, I-" "Shhh..." Loki shushed you on an instant. "It's okay now, flower. You are going to be just fine. Everything is alright."

Now you were slightly confused. After all, something had to be wrong... But not just at your husband's words. About the fact that he had tears in his eyes. Happy tears?

And Loki? Loki saw the confusion reflecting on your face, but he just wasn't able to hold back his emotions.

Letting out a shaky breath, he lunged forward and showered you with countless kisses on your lips - which managed to confuse you even more. What by Odin's beard was going on here?

Between some moments, where his lips weren't locked with yours, you were able to take a few breaths and literally pant out: "L-Loki, what... What is going on h-here? I'd like to have an e-explanation."

Your husband smiled brightly from ear to ear and took your hand lovingly in his bigger ones. "My love, you... You are with child."

You blinked; needed a moment to process the information, but then your eyes widened; jaw dropping. "W-What? I... WHAT?!" Loki just nodded; softly squeezing your hand. "I-I am pregnant?!" A small laugh escaped the king's lips. "Yes, flower, you are. The healers told me. They checked. Twice." You blinked again. This was a little overwhelming for you at the moment. "A-And my circulation problems are-" "A side effect." Loki finished the sentence for you. You swallowed. "Wow, um, I... This is..." Your husband's cheerful expression fell; smile vanishing. "Are you not happy about this, my queen? Didn't you - we, wish for this to happen?" When you saw the troubled look in his eyes, you quickly lifted your free hand to cup his cheek. "No, no, my love! I am happy about it! I truly am!" You tried to reassure him. "It's just a bit overwhelming at the moment. You know, normally it's the woman's job to break such news to her man and not the other way round... I absolutely wasn't prepared for this." Loki nodded; smile returning slowly. "I see - and I understand. I am sorry. Perhaps I just should've let you rest first and tell you tomorrow, but I was just too excited. I wasn't able to control my emotions. Apologies, flower." You shook your head. "No, Loki... Do not apologise for that. Ever. It makes my heart beat so much faster, to see that you are so excited to become a father."

Loki's bright smile had returned. "Oh, I am so excited, my darling. So very much..." He leaned forward to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

Loki hadn't left your bedside that evening; completely abandoning all his royal tasks and telling several guards and advisors, that he'd not be available in the next hours. Loki wanted to stay by your side - after all, you almost collapsed today... And he wanted to enjoy this happy, intimate moment with you. Only you.

Now he was laying in bed with you, after the healers had checked on you once again. His arms wrapped around your middle securely; keeping you pinned against his chest.

"I still can't quite believe this..." You mumbled; softly shaking your head. "A child, Loki..." The king's chest vibrated with a hum, "Me neither, flower." before he pressed a small kiss on the exposed skin of your neck. "You know what that means from now on, yes?" Your husband continued. "Umm..." "No more hard work for you, love. No stressful royal duties, no hunting, no long travels. None of it. Especially now. The healers said your body needs more rest." You wriggled around; turned in his embrace to face him. "But, my king, I-" "No, no, no." Loki cut you off immediately. "You are growing our child. That's already hard work enough." "Okay, okay, I understand that, but... Aren't you a tad bit overprotective now, my love?" You placed one hand on his strong pecs; right where his heart beat for you.

The king just shrugged his shoulders and started to gently stroke the clothed skin on your lower back with his thumbs. "Perhaps. But I can't help myself. It's in my nature; my genes; my instinct. I must protect my woman and growing offspring - at all costs."

Your mouth literally fell shut after these stern, but loving words; knowing that you had no chance in arguing with him anymore. His point stood. Despite that, what were you supposed to do against his DNA? So, instead you opted for a slight change of subject...

"We need to tell my father... And brother." Your husband nodded. "I know, yes. We should - but not now. We're not telling anyone right now. It's so fresh and vulnerable... This is our moment. Nobody else's. We should give it some time." "Yes," you agreed; knowing that Loki was right. "We should."

Three months later, it was time for you and Loki to tell the whole palace and kingdom. Thor and Odin knew it already. They've been told by you and your husband a month back. During those three months, you hid your growing baby bump as best as you could. Sure, it was unavoidable that a few guards and maids figured it out, but those who did had been bound to secrecy.

Like in almost every realm and kingdom was a pregnancy reveal quite a big event. That was the reason, why countless Jotuns gathered in the big courtyard of the palace and waited excitedly, but also anxiously for their king and queen to step out on the big, majestic balcony, in order to tell them why they got invited here. Nobody knew. Nobody had a single clue.

"Are you ready, my queen?" Loki asked you, as he came to stand beside you in front of the green flapping curtains, which led out on the balcony. You took a deep breath and nodded. It wasn't like you already stood quite often on this balcony for various reasons, but this... This was bigger... Different.

"I think I am, yes. I won't be able to hide those two much longer anyways." You placed one hand underneath your steadily growing bump; hosting your twins. Loki smiled softly; "That may be true, yes." cupped your hand and pressed a kiss against your temple. "I am by your side, my flower. Always have been; always will be. This is something good and I am happy to finally share this with our folk." You couldn't help but smile as well; heart fluttering. "Me too, my king, me too." Loki gave you another nod, then took your hand in his; fingers intertwining. "Let's do this." Together you stepped past the curtains, which got held open by two guards, and onto the balcony.

Silence spread over the courtyard on an instant, when the Jotuns saw the both of you appear. They went down on one knee or took a deep bow; showing their king and queen the utmost respect.

"Arise!" Loki started to speak; lifting his arms. Everyone raised to their feet again; all eyes directed on you and your husband. "I thank you all for your appearance." You were glad that Loki did the talking. He was by far better at that. A born king. "Now, you all might wonder why we - the queen and I ordered you all to stand before your rulers today."

Immediate whispers broke out within the crowd and everybody seemed a little... tense and afraid. You could feel it - and so could Loki. "Don't fret, my loyal folk. I can assure you, that the reason why we are all standing here today is purely good." And again the whispers picked up, but this time you could see quite relieved and happy faces. The built-up tension left the Jotuns.

You felt how Loki reached for your hand again; trying to help calm your nerves down a bit.

"My wife, the queen and I..." He spoke up once more, and you knew that the moment had arrived. This was it. Giving his hand a squeeze, you told him that you were ready. Nervous, but ready. Until now, the Jotuns were still unaware, since you wore a wide gown, which hid your quite pregnant belly. Nothing uncommon for you. Sure, it was summer, but for you, it was early spring.

Loki gave you an encouraging nod, alongside a smile and helped you to get rid of the gown - and the 'façade' to drop. Your belly was for everybody visible now, causing a murmur to go through the crowd. Everybody stared at you surprised, shocked; jaw slacking.

"We are expecting offspring!" Your husband announced then cheerfully; placing a hand on your baby bump. "The lineage of our family continues!" His words caused the dam to break and the realisation hitting your people full force. Suddenly, they broke out in loud cheers and claps. There were smiles everywhere; alongside some chants saying things like: 'All hail the king and queen!' or 'Long live king Loki and queen Y/N!' It was a firework of emotions - not just for them.

You and Loki bathed in the positive reactions from all of your people for several moments, until he lifted his hands again, in order to shush them - which worked immediately. The power this man has over the crowd, you thought. Everyone is so devoted to him.

"But with that not enough..." He continued his little speech; dropping the next bombshell. "My wife is going to give birth in a few months... to twins!" This caused even louder claps and cheers to emit from the Jotuns; and a shiver to run down your spine. It was so intense. You felt so much love, sympathy and support radiating from everyone who was standing to your and Loki's feet. You felt accepted. It was overwhelming. Incredible.

You couldn't help but smile and wave, all the while leaning over to kiss your husband; showing some 'public' affection.

[loserreinawriter]

Can I get a Jess Black fluff? I always imagine that once Jess let's people into her life she becomes much more softer and touchy, especially with Dep since they met

The Heart Of The Huntress

Jess Black X GN Deputy reader

Fluff- 1.1K words

This isn’t as long as I wish it was, but I think it’s fitting enough given the theme! Sorry for the wait <3

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It was always so clear to the Deputy when they first met Jess Black that if there was one thing the woman had, it was one hard and cold shell. It didn’t mean she lacked the ability for openness, no. She could be open and vulnerable, even if indirect about it. It seemed all was laid out before the Deputy when they went on to help her defeat The Cook, her story leading the path of their journey and soon enough the anger Jess felt towards the sadistic man had burned It’s way into the Deputy. It was sickening. It was enough to make even the strongest stomach churn with the upset it caused. If there was something Jess Black deserved, it was the right to be cold after all she’d been through.

The Deputy remembered the look on her face when she’d gotten her revenge. It wasn’t enough, it never had been. Her revenge was the first step to being able to heal, but that was going to be a hell of a trip for her to do alone. how much they wanted to reach out, just to place a single hand on her shoulder but they knew better. She didn’t seek their comfort, and they didn’t need to make this more uncomfortable for her than it already was. They didn’t know each other enough then but that sparked an idea in the Deputy. She sparked a light in the Deputy, and they could excuse it as wherever they wished but they knew from that moment on. They enjoyed her company, they wanted her with them.

So the Deputy kept her around, of course they did. A skilled woman like herself, her witty comments were enough to make them smirk and it sometimes even brought out a small laugh while the pair were supposedly undercover. It never gave them away, they were too good. They always had been, but it made it so much more enjoyable. She was truly one of their favorite people to do this with, their joint strategy of stealth and takedowns, Jess watching the Deputy’s back as the Dep went through each outpost and mission given to them. They worked wonderfully together.

The pair soon found themselves together at the end of a long day, seated comfortably at a campfire somewhere in the county. It didn’t really matter where they ended up, though they both tended to avoid the Henbane. It felt more private without the bliss tainting their fresh air. And that’s where they were at that fateful sunset, seated beside each other with Peaches across, sleeping soundly while the two watched over the county from a high up mountainside view. They were in a good enough spot to see trouble, and possibly even shoot it down if it was close enough.

The wind very slightly picked up for the pair, pushing Jess’ hair all around her face as it couldn’t escape her lifted hood. The grin that dawned on the Deputy’s face was enough to earn a playful shove from the woman, the pair laughing together as Jess reached up and pulled her hood down.

The soft stare from the Deputy was unintentional. She looked so much more free.. so comfortable. A smile adorning her features as those teal eyes watched over the county, one hand reached down to lightly stroke through Peaches fur. Her mouth moved as she voiced her opinions so openly, so strong in everything she said and declared. The huntress was unaware of the Deputy’s admiration of her growth and just.. her. They didn’t think they’d see the day she’d be so comfortable with them, it almost made all this fighting worth it.

They must’ve been staring for much longer than they thought, however, because within a second those teal orbs were now facing their way, a look of questioning on the woman’s face as she lightly jabbed at their shoulder.

“Earth to the grinning gunslinger, did you hear me? Or is this just how you take a conversation now? Jeez, I know silent and deadly is our thing, and silence is your entire vocabulary but I didn’t think you’d take it to this extent.”

The jab to the side didn’t hurt and helped pull the Deputy from their gaze much quicker, looking almost sheepish before just laughing it off with a chuckle and shoving her back. Their playful banter had become a daily occurrence, if it weren’t for the comments on the Deputy’s weapon choice Jess managed to find something about them to pick some fun at. She knew they could take the playfulness with her and it felt so.. refreshing. Their entire relationship, whatever it was, was refreshing. They always found time for each other, even after the most eventful and tiring days. Even when the Deputy ended up in the Hope County Jail Medical room for a full day and night, they forced Jess into a trivial card game. One where the rules escaped both of them. It was so much more than a partnership against the resistance now, they were truly something together. It didn’t need a name, they didn’t need any type of label for their friendship. They were closer than anyone knew, and that was perfect for them.

“Sorry. Miss what you said, my bad?” The Deputy’s head turned to look over the county once again as they smiled, feeling Jess shift on the bench they shared before they felt her against their arm. They didn’t flinch or move, but their gaze shifted immediately back over to her as their smile remained. She had leaned against them. Her head falling to rest on their shoulder. A silent gesture, one of many the pair had shared together. It was always so shocking when she made any attempt at being physical with the Deputy, but it was always accepted. It was becoming more of a common occurrence now and it made the pair feel a sense of warmth they couldn’t find beyond each other.

The Deputy’s shoulder tensed just enough to keep her upright as they tilted their own head to rest atop of hers, the pair letting out soft breathes as they settled into silence and their new position. It seemed the night followed their peaceful gesture as night fell over them, the dark blanket of the deep blue sky pulling over them as the sun settled away beyond the mountains. The twinkling of the stars begin to poke out and shoot their winks down playfully to them. They knew they’d remain here until the moon’s rays were coming over and above them and neither could complain, they’d find their way to a bunker or safety once they decided to do so. For now, their companionship was enough for them both, and contentment had settled into them both.