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#so they steal some emeralds and try to go to the past and they manage to do it
mira0000000-blog · 4 months
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It's kinda funny that I have fankids in the brain but they have almost 0 dynamic (or zero GOOD dynamic) with their parents they just go on silly shenanigans
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ria-777 · 5 days
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There is not enough letters in the alphabet for me to tell you how much I love you
E - Emerald
She seemed uncomfortable.
Standing there, amongst all those diplomats, kings, queens, princes, princesses, dukes, duchesses, or whatever their alien equivalent is.
It was so oblivious she felt out of place.
Every time she tried sneaking away from all this attention to a calmer corner, someone demanded her focus on them once more. Allura had ordered all of them to be on their best behaviour, a smile was to be constantly plastered on their faces for the entire duration of the night. So Pidge had no choice but to give it to them.
He had spent most of his time observing her, so really, it wasn't surprising when their eyes found each other. Keith could see she was trying hard to look in her element, but he knew her so well. Her eyes said it all.
This was it, the moment the red paladin of Voltron would be ultimately defeated.
She was beautiful in that emerald dress
Staring at him with the same wonder-struck look. It was like she understood him perfectly. The feeling when you long to be close to someone so badly, the one that gives you the impression your heart is going to jump out of your throat every time. All you want to do is keep that person close to you, scared it will be the last time you'll ever see each other.
When she first entered the reception with the altean princess after their teammates did, she caught the attention of many others, including him.
And yet, it was in his direction she smiled shyly.
Not those arrogant princes who thought everyone should like them for a reason as stupid as their title and how filled their pockets were.
How could a human be so mesmerizing?
Maybe it was a bit selfish, or even possessive, but deep down, Keith hoped he would forever be the only one Pidge gazed at like she was currently doing.
The green dress was about two shades darker than her lion and armor. Nevertheless, the colour was perfect on her skin, which adored war scars. The open back of the floor-length gown revealed the now partially white mark. How she acquired it still left him shameful. He had failed to protect her by making sure no one approached her while she was attempting to hack a Galra cruiser.
Keith had felt so guilty, watching her staying by her side the entire time she was in the healing pods, refusing to leave her alone even at night.
After she fell out of the pod, he waited until she was aware enough of where she was before she started to apologize profusely, his arms still around her.
She had only laughed, saying she was fine and that neither of them expected so many foes to show up. It was an honest mistake and she forgave him.
Maybe it was when she grinned at him that he realized how much he truly loved her.
A slower song was beginning to play in the ballroom. Both knew many would attempt approaching the paladins in hopes of stealing at least a dance with them. Keith could see Lance already enjoying the attention on the other side of the room.
There was no way the red paladin was going to stand there and watch Pidge being taken from his grasp.
Ignoring anyone who tried talking to him and those surrounding the green paladin, he offered his hand to her.
"May I have this dance?"
For the first time that night, she smiled brightly, obviously struggling to stop herself from laughing as her teammate bowed in front of her. "Of course you may."
She deposed her calloused hand from working constantly and all the fights they survived in his similar one.
Allura had meticulously put the top half of Pidge's hair in a messy but stylish braid, which she had then placed in a bun. The bottom was slightly curled, successfully managing to tame the young girl's wild hair. She had let her hair grow a bit but never more than five centimetres past her shoulder after four years in space. She said it would be too much of a hazard to take care of.
From up close, Keith noted the princess somehow convinced the younger girl to let her apply some light makeup on her face. A simple pink blush on her cheeks, what appeared to be glitter on her eyelids, and some mascara. There was also a red tint on her lips that made them look so... kissable.
If only he could confess, maybe she would let him-
Quiznack, Keith could feel his face heating up.
Would it be crazy to wish only he could see how gorgeous she was, like that, no one would even try to steal her away from him?
This was unlikely to happen and he knew it. She was simply that pretty.
The song was already over before he could savour the moment. Shit, he was so lost in her beauty he had no idea for how long they danced. Judging from her equally confused expression, she was in the same situation.
Soon, the guest began leaving.
*******
After Allura, Shiro and Coran congratulated them on the successful impression they gave, Keith and Pidge were the only ones left on the bridge.
Just because he yearned to be close to her as much as he could, the red paladin offered his dearest friend (and hopefully more in the nearest future possible) to walk her back to her room. A simple act of courtesy.
They didn't talk much, but it was more than fine. Their silence was far from awkward, on the contrary, he loved them more than anything. Well... less than he adores her.
And just like their dance, the pleasant moment ended far too quickly.
Instead of immediately bidding him goodnight and entering her room, Pidge hesitated to leave him in the quiet and empty hallway, her hand immobile in front of her door.
Keith saw her shoulder go up and down as she took a big breath before she swiftly turned, facing him with determination in her eyes. That expression was usually reserved as she piloted her lion in a fight.
With her hand, Pidge signalled him to lean down at her level. Keith thought she had something important to say when she seemed to get closer to his ear. Useless to mention he was utterly surprised when she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"Sleep well, and thank you for tonight."
Keith didn't even have time to respond, hell, he didn't have the chance to register what she had just done before the door was closed as he stared stupidly at it.
Pidge just kissed him. Who cares if it was only on the cheek? His heart was beating at a dangerously fast pace.
Oh God. Without even having to look in a mirror, the boy knew his face was probably as red as his lion.
*******
As he lay wide awake in his bed, his fingertips were delicately touching the place she had graced with her soft ruddy lips. A smile was plastered on his face, stubbornly refusing to go, preventing him from falling asleep, making his jaw ache. Only one thought in his mind.
Maybe he did have a chance with her.
*******
(Posted on ao3 and Wattpad)
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greenlantern94to04 · 10 months
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Green Lantern #49 (February 1994)
"EMERALD TWILIGHT," Part 2! Hal Jordan has gone so far off the deep end that he's started imitating one of history's most infamous monsters: Ringo Starr. After the events of last issue, a pissed-off Hal is speeding towards planet Oa to give his bosses, the Guardians of the Universe, a piece of (what's left of) his mind. The Guardians try to stop Hal by deploying formidable Green Lanterns like, uh, this red guy and that purple girl.
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Hal brutally whoops their asses and steals their GL rings to become more powerful; if he manages to nab 3597 more rings, he can become a One Man Green Lantern Corps. Hal's dangerous bling addiction even leads him to fight Lanterns he personally recruited into the Corps, like Tomar-Tu (the guy with the bird face who doesn't sound like Geoffrey Rush) and Boodikka, a fierce warrior who refuses to let go of her ring... so Hal just chops her hand off. I like to imagine a Green Lantern from some sort of phallus-shaped alien race turning around at this point and going home.
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Meanwhile, in Oa, the Guardians seem pretty confident that one of their "servants" will stop Hal, but their arrogance starts evaporating with every ring he steals. Ganthet, paradoxically the least dickish of the Guardians despite being the only one wearing a ponytail, has some sort of secret plan for how they could "preserve themselves" if all else fails. At first, the others just mock him (for his plan, not the ponytail), but as Hal gets closer, they get nervous and start preparing for Ganthet's plan, whatever it is.
Hal finally reaches Oa and faces one of his best friends, Kilowog, the most distinguished trainer of the Green Lantern Corps and the Justice League's one-time handyman. Hal reminds his former mentor that he's got like ten rings by now, but Kilowog defiantly says, "Didn't I teach ya nothing? It's the warrior, not his weapons."
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As it turns out, nope, it's the weapons, because Hal defeats Kilowog too within one page. With no one else around to stop him, Hal heads for the Central Power Battery -- literally, a giant battery that powers every GL ring in the universe, and now Hal wants that power to himself (I guess stealing it from here is easier than figuring out how to wear 3600 rings on his fingers). However, the Guardians still have an ace up their oversized sleeves. A hooded figure walks out of the battery, and the final page reveals that it's the other "greatest Green Lantern ever" who went rogue: Sinestro! A villain so heinous that the Guardians executed him for "crimes against the universe," causing his soul to get trapped inside the Central Battery.
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Yes, the Guardians are so desperate that they're willing to give a GL ring to a guy whose name means "evil" and who has tried to kill them multiple times in the past. Interesting tactic. Will it pay off?!
NEXT ISSUE: It doesn't pay off.
Plotline-Watch:
When Sinestro is revealed at the end, we also find out that he'd been narrating the issue, which gives a double reading to lines like: "Were he not blinded by his obsession, would these acts wreak havoc on his conscience? I rather like to think so." That almost sounds like Sinestro's version of the Joker's "Far too late" moment from The Killing Joke.
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The fight with Kilowog could be seen as another callback to Emerald Dawn, Hal's origin story, since that contained a montage of 'Wog training Hal when he was a rookie... by making him balance rocks and catch eggs in the air and stuff. Would have been funny if Hal and Kilowog's dramatic face-off in this issue had consisted of an egg-catching contest. To the death.
Ganthet the Least Dickish Guardian first appeared in 1992's Green Lantern: Ganthet's Tale graphic novel by Larry Niven and John Byrne, which establishes that 1) he once drove himself insane by looking at the beginning of the universe, and 2), perhaps related to the above, he has a fondness for human fashion. Ganthet had appeared in exactly two issues of the regular series before this one, but he'll appear a lot more often and have plenty more chances to show off his fashion sense after this.
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Also in Ganthet's Tale, Hal learns the "forbidden knowledge" that the end and the beginning of the universe are linked together, which the other Guardians would have erased from his mind if Ganthet hadn't protected him. Not only will this little bit of trivia come in pretty handy for Hal as he starts toying with cosmic forces in the near future, but also, looking at the final panels in the graphic novel, Hal's comments about being disappointed in the Guardians' lies almost feel like a teaser for Emerald Twilight (which, again, was definitely not being planned in '92).
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Question for the Hal Jordan veterans in the comments (hi, Neil): was the idea that wearing more GL rings makes you more powerful already a thing before this issue? Seems like something a villain would have exploited by now. Or did Hal change how the rings work through sheer force of will?
Guy-Watch:
Meanwhile, in Guy Gardner's corner of the GL universe: the Guy Gardner series officially becomes Guy Gardner: Warrior with #17, which sees the debut of Guy's new moniker and his shorter, non-Moe hairdo. Plus, artist Mitch Byrd!
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In this issue, Guy finally works up the nerve to go back home and tell his abusive dad what he thought of him, only to find out that he died shortly after his brother Mace committed suicide. Both were assholes, but that's still pretty rough. Then, he's attacked by Militia, the armored loon we met last issue. The fight ends when Guy's yellow power ring (which, incidentally, used to belong to Sinestro) suddenly stops working, but luckily, Militia's armor happens to malfunction at the same time and he's ran over by a truck.
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Huh, curious that Militia has ginger hair too. Probably a coincidence. To be continued!
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angelbymadonna · 1 year
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Marinette's heart was beating in her ears. She'd spent hours on end sewing the suit she wore, talking herself up. But this was the moment she'd really know. If she could do it.
A deep breath in. Marinette opened her eyes, cast a line to a building at the end of the street, and jumped.
The street fell from under her feet and the row of buildings sped past her vision. Marinette's stomach seemed to get left behind once she started to turn, doing a complete 180 around that building on the end. She pulled the string, flinging herself upwards above the rooftops.
Honestly, the view was really great. That one moment was golden and could've lasted forever.
Unfortunately, it was overshadowed by the hour Marinette spent vomiting. Traveling by web was going to take some... getting used to. Maybe she'd get a glider or bike one day, but until then, she'd show up nauseous to save the city.
---
Marinette clung to her pillar, trying to be still so the intruder wouldn't see her. Sure enough, he sauntered through the door, stepping around the guard's limp body disdainfully.
He made his way to the center of the room, inspecting the emerald. So he was after Tsurugi's trinket, then. What would he want with it? He could sell it, sure, but the same was true for every treasure in the room, and the others weren't on loan from famously cautious, well connected people.
Marinette wasn't sure she'd even have to do anything. She'd followed the thief in, but the precautions on the gem itself would catch him. As soon as the boy moved to lift the emerald, an alarm would alert every other guard, not just the one unlucky guy he'd managed to subvert.
But he moved to the pedestal instead. Marinette couldn't see exactly what the jewel thief did, but she could hear an electric pop as the mechanism broke. It seemed she must get involved anyways.
She cast a web line to the ceiling and swung down straight to the center of the room. Around halfway, the boy turned to look at her.
It was at this point Marinette realized the burglar was dressed like a cat. For some reason. Ears, nose, even a bell! Her surprise was probably why she crashed into the boy.
Once Marinette for her concentration back, she looked closer at the boy. He wore a plain black masquerade style mask over the top half of his face, but it didn't cover his eyes. Greener than any jewel, they almost popped out at her, and had creepy cat-like slit pupils. He was about the same age as Marinette. How strange for a teen to steal a jewel alone, Marinette thought. Well, no stranger than a teenage arachnid to leap forth from shadows and thwart him, she supposed.
"Pleased to meet you, webs. I wasn't aware they hired such pretty guards here!"
"Not funny. I'll tie you up and call the guards!"
"Oh they've all had accidents. Such unlucky folks! Seems to happen often around me!"
So he must have some type of power he used on the guards... and probably the warning mechanism too! So nobody would know he took the emerald until it was too late!
"I must be really lucky though, to make your acquaintance, Miss..."
"Spider-Woman." Marinette's tone must have revealed some annoyance, much to the pleasure of this stranger.
"Spider-Woman. Black Cat, at your service." he bowed and everything, enjoying his charade.
Black Cat, as he called himself, made his way back to the emerald. Marinette tried to follow, but she tripped and fell on her face.
Great. First time meeting this guy and she'd fallen over twice already. Clearly fighting a guy who's power gave her bad luck was going to take some... getting used to.
----
Marinette stared into his pupils, ones wide enough she could see her mask reflected in them. Maybe she was too hopeful, or the long night and several hits to the head had gotten to her. Or maybe she was getting through to him.
Black Cat wasn't a bad dude, he just liked being into trouble. Marinette couldn't for the life of her figure out why, but she knew there was no grand plan. He had a taste for it or something.
It wasn't the first time they'd been like this. Face to face in a quiet moment, waiting for the other to make a move. Other times, he'd let slip that he looked forward to meeting the Spider-Woman. He liked her company. And the thieving cat sounded like he believed it himself, too.
Her hand still rested over his on the mask. Some theatrical deal didn't seem.. right somehow for revealing his identity. Marinette didn't entirely know why she cared.
Plus she was so not going to reveal her own. But.. a little earnesty might go a long way in convincing him.
Marinette felt her free hand along the seam of her mask, not hesitating to pull the hem over her nose. "Is this enough?" Marinette had meant to sound cocky, more confident in herself than she was, but it was for the best that her voice shook. Better than another mask.
"Now we're even." She added instead, with a breath of relief. She studied Cat's face, trying to gauge his reaction. Let that show him who doesn't care.
"Not even close, milady!" was Cat's answer, complete with a kiss on the nose as he swung upwards, breaking the web around his ankle to make his escape.
Black Cat lingered on the wall above Marinette for a moment or so, and she didn't go after him. She simply stood, realizing she didn't only care about that boy because he was a citizen, but that her feelings about him were personal.
Yeah, putting her heart on the line hoping it'd be seen only to be disappointed would take some... getting used to.
link to Adrien pov
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darkjanet2 · 1 year
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Sonic Adventure 2: Sonadow
Chapter 6: Arrive at the Prison Island
Sonic was sitting in his jail cell, his knees close to his chest and his head resting on them. His hands were folded neatly in his lap as he rocked back and forth.
'Why won’t they tell me what’s going on? I know I didn't steal the Choas Emerald, but they won't believe me. I mean, I know it’s not my fault that I got caught' Sonic thought bitterly to himself.
He looked up at the ceiling, deeply thinking about Shadow and how to beat him. He was a master of many forms of combat; from gunmanship to hand to hand and from hand to foot. He was also pretty damn good at fighting with his fists. He shook his head.
'No time to think like that,' he thought. 'It's important to focus. I have to practice beating Shadow.'
He stood up and raised his fists, staring at them as he clenched his jaw. “I'll show Shadow that I am not going to lose! I'll become the best!” He pumped his fist in the air as he punched through the air several times before dropping into a crouch and punching the ground. Then he was doing the kicking exercises again. He was just getting started.
“You can do it, Sonic! Just hit harder and kick harder, just like Knuckles taught you how to fight!” he shouted to himself as he did another set of kicks. “Yeah, I’ll get you! I’ll kick your ass until you’re crying for mercy! And then you’re going down!"
Meanwhile
Amy and Tails arrived at the Prison Island. The sun was rising before them, casting long shadows across the ocean. They landed near the island and walked out towards the edge. The sun glinted off the sea’s surface as it rose higher and higher above them, illuminating a large expanse of water. ‘So beautiful…’ said Amy as she gazed around her, admiring the view.
"So this is the Prison Island," said Tails, looking over the edge. “Sonic must be here somewhere."
"We can always find him if we look for long enough," replied Amy as she began walking along the edge of the cliff. "This place has an amazing view. It makes me feel like I could conquer the whole world. And there are so many things to explore, too."
"Yeah, I guess it does, although I'm sure Sonic could come up with something better than this," Tails frowned, gesturing around at the prison island and the ocean. "And I bet he already knows it. He would be bored if he couldn't do all those things!"
"I'm going to save my Sonic from boredom! That’s what I’m going to do after I defeat Eggman," said Amy, running to the center of the island.
"Amy, wait!" shouted Tails, but Amy had already gone. He sighed, "What am I going to do with her?" Tails wasn’t exactly a big fan of the idea of leaving Amy alone with Eggman, especially since he knew that she was going to try and rescue him. He hoped that she wouldn’t go in there all by herself.
Tails took a capsule out of his pocket and threw it on the ground to reveal a vehicle called Cyclone, he mounted his Cyclone and went into the forest.
“Alright, let’s see what I can find.” He ran towards the forest, hoping he could find some clues as to where Sonic might be. And Amy, too, if she managed to get past Eggman and get to the Prison Island. He was a little worried about that possibility.
-- Amy looked for Sonic in all the forests and swamps surrounding Prison Island, but no sign of him seemed to appear. She had tried searching everywhere except for the prison itself and was starting to wonder why. But then she saw a shadow in the distance. ‘Is that Sonic?’ she wondered, picking up speed towards it. She soon reached the clearing area and stopped, surprised to see the black hedgehog and a female bat talking to each other, standing about five feet apart.
Amy smiled in relief. “Thank goodness he’s okay!” She rushed forward. She grabbed Sonic around his torso and hugged him. “Oh Sonic, it’s so great to see you again,” she whispered in his ear. He didn't respond to her hug, so Amy pulled away and stared into his eyes. He was different. He had black fur with red stripes on his quills, arms, and legs. He had crimson-red eyes, and he had white fur on his chest.
Amy gasped, "You're not Sonic! Who are you?!" she demanded angrily, pointing at the ebony hedgehog. She backed up, ready to defend herself should the other figure attack her.
Then Eggman appeared in front of Amy. He pointed a menacing finger at her, "Don't interfere!"
Amy backed up, "Dr. Eggman!" she cried in fear. Her heart pounded in her chest. This was not the first time he had threatened her, but this one scared her more than anything else ever had. She was frozen in fear.
"Aaaaaahhhh!!!" she screamed as she ran away from Dark Team.
"Aaah, Amy, your timing is impeccable!" Eggman turned to Rouge and Shadow, "Leave it to me. I'll take care of her. You two go."
They both nodded and disappeared. Amy kept running until she had run about half a mile. She stopped at the edge of the cliff and looked out over the ocean. The waves crashed onto the rocks below, sending huge waves crashing against the coast. The wind blew strongly against Amy’s hair and face, causing a shiver to go through her. She turned her attention from the ocean to the prison island.
"Give up, Amy! No one can escape my clutches! Especially not a foolish girl like you!" Amy whirled around to face the sound of Eggman's voice. He was standing about ten yards away from her, smiling maliciously. Amy gulped in fear. She couldn't let him catch her. If he caught her, he would hurt her.
Fortunately, Tails was able to save Amy from certain death. She felt relieved at the moment. It was clear to her that he was capable of protecting her.
"Amy, are you okay?" Tails asked, trying to calm her.
"Yes, thank you, Tails," replied Amy.
"Stand back, Amy." Tails jumped backward and fired an energy blast at the approaching villain. Eggman was knocked off his feet and fell down to the rocks below. He quickly got up and glared daggers at Tails.
"Where is Sonic?!" Tails demanded, "If you don't tell me, I'M gonna break every bone in your body and throw them into the ocean!"
"I don’t know where Sonic is," answered Eggman. "But if I did, you wouldn't get any information out of me." The two friends stared at each other, their hatred for each other evident. "Now," growled Eggman as he pressed the button. It transformed into a massive robotic scorpion made of steel materialized in front of him. He aimed his claw at the two Mobius as it slowly began walking towards them. "Let's finish this."
15 minutes later
Eggman was panting, looking all scratched up and bruised from Tails' attacks. Tails was still panting too, but he was alright. Eggman looked at Tails and growled, "Not bad, young fox, but you've lost your edge! You weren't able to knock me unconscious. You need to improve, or you won't survive."
Eggman fled from the battlefield, disappearing into thin air. Amy watched him fly away, confused by what just happened. She turned to Tails, who looked slightly shocked. "Are you okay, Tails?" she asked him.
"Yeah, but what were you doing? Don't you know how dangerous it was? You could have been hurt! What if you were hurt or captured? I couldn't even think of a way to get you out of the situation! Why are you so reckless sometimes?!?" asked Tails, exasperated.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to save my lovey-dovey Sonic from being in prison," replied Amy sadly.
Tails paused for a moment, then looked up, a strange expression coming across his face. His mouth hung open slightly. Then he snapped out of it and shook his head, "No, you…you have to stop that. It's stupid. He's not your Sonic."
Amy frowned. "What do you mean? We're in love, aren't we?"
"You know what I mean," said Tails sternly. "Anyway, we have to save Sonic and get outta here."
"You're right. We have to hurry! I know Eggman's up to no good again!" said Amy.
"Okay, you stay here and I'll be right back!" said Tails, he left Amy and raced away towards the prison island.
"Don't leave without me! I wanna help Sonic, too!" yelled Amy after him, running after Tails as fast as she could.
Meanwhile in prison
Sonic was pacing back and forth in his cell, thinking hard. He needed to figure out what Eggman wanted with him, and how he was going to destroy the machine that controlled the robot. As soon as he figured that out, he was confident that they would be out of jail before the end of the day.
Suddenly, a clanking metal noise came from the ceiling causing him to look up. A vent in the wall near the ceiling had opened, and Amy climbed down from it. Sonic tensed.
"Amy?!" he exclaimed in surprise.
She placed her index finger to her lips to shush him, "Shhh! Keep your voice down! Have no fear, Amy Rose is here," she twirled around as she danced around him in circles, "to save you." She walked over to his cell and held up the key for him, "Come on, let's get you out of here."
Sonic sighed, "How'd you get here?"
"Well, if you gotta know… I caught a ride with Tails. Are you sure you don't need my help? It looks like you could use it," she tilted her head, gave him flirty eyes smile, and batted her eyelashes.
Sonic rolled his eyes, "Whatever, the reason I'm in here is because of that fake hedgehog."
"You mean that black hedgehog?" asked Amy.
Sonic turned to Amy in surprise, "Wait… Do you see him? Where is he now?"
"If I tell you, will you marry me?" smirked Amy, placing her hand on her cheek with a coy smile.
"For God's sake, Amy! Stop acting crazy and give me answers already!" replied Sonic annoyed. Amy giggled and winked at him. She moved closer to him and whispered seductively in his ear, "We'll make him pay, Sonic. Trust me."
Sonic blushed a little, knowing Amy meant everything she said. She put the keycard through the slot to open the cell door and led him out of his prison. Amy walked to Sonic, she smelt something reek coming from him. She pinched her nose and grimaced. She moved away from him in disgust.
"Ew, you reek! Have you been working out?" she asked, disgusted.
Sonic scratched sheepishly his head, "Um… Yeah… Sorry, I had to train hard about how I beat that fake hedgehog last night…"
Amy sighed, "That black hedgehog came here with Dr. Eggman."
"So, Eggman's behind this, huh?" mumbled Sonic.
Amy walked into the cell there was a lot of writing on the wall and she found what she was looking for in the corner.
"What's with all the writing on the wall, anyway? Did you write that?" she asked Sonic curiously.
He didn't respond to her question. She turned around and Sonic was nowhere to be seen. She furrowed her brows. Where could he possibly be? Had he managed to get away? Was he hiding somewhere?
"Hello?" she called.
Nothing. No response.
"Wait for me, Sonic!" she yelled after him, then she sighed. "He's such an ass sometimes."
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wandaromanova · 3 years
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Enough
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: cussing, failing marriage
A/N: hello! happy reading! <3
anon requested: Wanda x reader where they give her divorce paper because Wanda is always gone and distant
Summary: Even the most unbreakable bonds fall victim to the struggles of marriage.
Word Count: 5.1K | navigation
please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3
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When you first met Wanda Maximoff, it was under unusual circumstances. You were browsing through a farmer’s market a couple of streets over from your apartment, glancing at various booths as you passed them by. It was a quiet day, the sun was shining down brightly, the heat stifling. You liked to get your groceries from these marketplaces, the fruit and vegetables were fresh and fewer people touched them in comparison to a wholesaler franchise. 
You had been stood at one of your favorite fruit stands, warmly greeting the elderly woman who ran the booth and observing some strawberries. Then suddenly, your purse had been snatched from your person. You were startled and caught sight of a man running down, your purse in hand. You intended to run after the thief, but he didn’t get far. 
A red glow encased the man, stopping him in his place a couple of feet away from you. Your eyes widened, as did everyone else’s, at the sight. You turned your head over your shoulder and were mesmerized by a brunette woman, eyes red, and her head tilted slightly to the side. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Considering you didn’t live under a rock, you knew exactly who she was; Wanda Maximoff. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
You had seen her on the news quite often. She was an Avenger who had unique abilities that surpassed the rest of the group. Your eyes followed Wanda as she walked past you and toward the man who was still trapped by a glow of red. You moved without thinking, following behind her. After all, it was your purse that had been stolen. 
“Stealing purses from women? How desperate could you be?” Her Sokovian accent met your ears as you stood back slightly. Wanda tore your purse out of the man’s grip and released him. He looked terrified as he took one glance at the brunette before running in the direction he was originally going in. 
Everyone in the marketplace went back to what they were doing while you stood in the middle of the walkway, frozen in place as the Sokovian turned her body around to face you. Television and photos didn’t do her beauty justice; she was captivating. 
There was a glow that surrounded her, a silhouette of gold colliding with her brunette locks. Her eyes were emerald with the smallest specks of blue. Her skin was remarkably flawless. You couldn’t help but wonder what her skincare routine was. 
Wanda smiled lightly at you, amusement present in her eyes. “I don’t have a skincare routine. I just wash my face with a bar of soap and call it a day.” You blushed profusely at Wanda’s words. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Right… she could infiltrate people’s minds too. How could you forget something like that?
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“T-thank you for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if that dude actually got away with my purse.”
You mentally berated yourself for stuttering. The woman smiled at you and handed you the object, which you hung on your shoulder. 
“Don’t mention it.” Wanda spoke dismissively with a wave of her hand. “Is there anything I can do to repay you? Maybe buy you a cup of coffee? There’s a really good cafe a couple of blocks down from here.”
You looked at Wanda hopefully, wanting to thank her for what she had done for you.
The brunette took a pause, contemplating her answer before nodding her head. “I could go for some coffee.”
You smiled brightly and pointed behind you with your thumb. “Well, it’s back that way.” You turned back and began walking, Wanda right beside you. 
•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•
You sat in a booth with Wanda sat across from you. The cafe was fairly empty, which you were grateful for. Two cups of coffee were resting on the table, steam rising from the hot liquids.
“What’s an Avenger like yourself doing in a little farmer’s market?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee as your eyes peered at the brunette over the rim of the mug. 
“I always loved farmer’s markets. In Sokovia, my country, they were everywhere. So, I really love coming out to these sorts of places. It reminds me of home.”
You tensed at her words. Everyone knew about the rubble that Sokovia had become, and you felt kind of like an asshole for asking. 
“I’m very sorry for what happened to your home.” You spoke sympathetically as you put your mug down gently. Wanda sent you a small smile. “Thank you. It wasn’t the greatest country. We were plagued by poverty, but it was still home.”
The Sokovian looked down to the mug in front of her in thought. You cleared your throat before speaking.
“Well, I know a ton of farmer’s markets in this area. I tend to alternate between them, depending on what I need at home.” Wanda’s eyes moved from her mug and to your own. 
“If you want some recommendations, I’m your woman. Not to brag, but I’m kind of a farmer’s market pro.” You brushed off imaginary dust from your shoulders and Wanda let out small giggles at your faux cockiness.
“I would love some recommendations if it means you’ll take me on your shopping trips.” 
You raised your eyebrow at her with a smirk. “If you wanted to spend more time with me, you should’ve just said so, Wanda. No need to be so coy.”
Wanda threw her head back, laughing wholeheartedly at your words. You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for making her laugh.
“Nah, I don’t want to spend time with you, I just want your street knowledge.”  Wanda managed to let out, slowly coming down from her laughing fit.
“Oh! So you want to use me? I mean, let’s be honest... I wouldn’t mind if you did.” You spoke dramatically and Wanda laughed once more. 
You smiled as you observed her. Her head was thrown back, cheeks red, and eyes closed as the cutest giggles you’ve ever heard met your ears.
It was then you decided that her laugh was your favorite sound, especially when you were the one to evoke them from the Sokovian.
•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•
Since that day, you guys had exchanged numbers and Wanda had accompanied you shopping once a week. You’d drag the Sokovian by the hand through various markets and give her pointers on which stands sell the best produce. You even introduced her to the vendors, even if they already knew who she was. 
It was a wonderful time and afterward, the two of you would grab lunch in random restaurants, conversating over anything and everything. You had to admit, you looked forward to the one day a week you got to spend with Wanda. So, it kinda sucked whenever she couldn’t make it, away on some sort of mission. 
However, her absence made her presence all the more special. She took time out of her hectic schedule to hang out with you and roam around carelessly.
Truthfully, you were kind of a nobody, just another number to the extensive population of New York. You were the head chef of a fine-dining restaurant, hence your preference for fresh ingredients at home.
It baffled you that someone of Wanda’s caliber would want to spend time with you, but you definitely weren’t complaining. 
As weeks turned into months, you had grown exceptionally close to the Sokovian. You had gone from seeing her once a week to every other day, well, when she wasn’t away for work. 
Wanda would come over to your apartment, sipping on some wine as she watched you cook dinner. You figured she was intrigued by your gracefulness in the kitchen, but really, she was just checking you out.
She thought you looked amazing in your little chef apron, your hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep your hair out of your face. However, a few loose strands fell and framed your face perfectly. 
“Your hair looks sexy pushed back.” Wanda spoke, pulling you out of your concentration. Your eyes moved upward, staring at the woman who sat on a stool on the opposite side of your kitchen island.
“Did you just quote Mean Girls?” You asked amusedly and the brunette shrugged, a small smile on her face.
“Yes, I did. And what about it?” You rolled your eyes at Wanda’s sassiness. You would continue your task, disregarding her comment as best as you could, trying to ignore how flustered the woman made you. 
Once dinner was prepared, the two of you would sit on the couch and choose a random movie on Netflix. Those nights were always filled with commentary and laughter. It was so easy to relax around the Sokovian. Everything seemed to fall into place whenever she was near. 
So, it was no surprise when you realized you had feelings for Wanda that surpassed friendship. You had been nervous about revealing how you felt to the woman, but when you finally did, you felt like an idiot for being scared.
“I have feelings for you. Like, I like you a lot.” You anxiously played with your fingers, scared of Wanda���s reaction. She had been sat on your couch right beside you and you couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Hey.” Wanda spoke, gently gripping your chin and forcing you to look at her. “I like you, too.” Wanda giggled when your eyes widened in surprise.
“What? Don’t look so surprised. We’re practically dating already.” You rolled your eyes at the brunette with a smile on your face. The two of you sat there, smiling at each other like idiots, but neither of you seemed to care.
Your feelings weren’t one-sided and a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. After that day of confessions, you and Wanda became official.
Truthfully, not much changed between you two. You guys acted the same way you always did, but now kissing was added to the list of activities you would participate in. 
ㅤ Wanda Maximoff is the love of your life; ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ and you would never let her go. 
•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•
3 Years Later
You had been dating Wanda for three years and things were going wonderfully. She had moved into your apartment with you. It was amazing, knowing that she would end her days in your bed and you’d wake up with her in your arms the next morning. 
However, one morning, you definitely weren’t particularly happy with your girlfriend. She had dragged you out of bed at 5AM and rushed you to get ready. Wanda didn’t tell you where the hell she was taking you at the ass crack of dawn. Each time you asked, she just shushed you. 
Thirty minutes later, you walked with Wanda hand-in-hand. You knew the route she was taking and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You remained silent until you made it to your destination, and your suspicions had been confirmed; she had taken you to the farmer’s market closest to your apartment.
The area was completely empty, there were fairy lights strung about and a basket full of strawberries sitting on your favorite fruit stand. The sun was rising and the sky looked immaculate, the sun radiating a blood-orange color, complemented by golden yellow undertones. It was beautiful. 
Wanda let go of your hand and moved forward, turning around to face you. It was then that you noticed how anxious she looked. Seriously, it looked like she was about to puke. “What are we doing here? Is everything okay?” Your concern for the Sokovian was evident in your tone. 
Wanda gave you the best smile she could muster in her nervous state and nodded her head. “Everything is okay. Wait, scratch that. Everything is more than okay now that I have you in my life.” You smiled at your girlfriend as she took a deep breath.
“Y/N. Do you remember this spot?” Wanda asked you curiously and you nodded your head, a laugh escaping your lips. “Well, of course. We come here like once a month, duh.” The Sokovian shook her head at your words, rolling her eyes playfully.
“No shit, Sherlock. I meant, do you remember the significance of this specific spot?” You instantly nodded your head.
“This is where a random ass dude stole my purse and you scared him with your powers.” You smiled triumphantly while Wanda giggled. 
“Well, you’re not wrong, but yeah. This is where we first met.” Wanda let out a shaky breath and you stared at her curiously.
“When I first came to America and joined the Avengers, I was petrified. They say this place is the land of opportunity, but it didn’t feel like that to me.”
The Sokovian began to ramble on, her eyes locked onto yours as you listened intently. 
“Coming to America wasn’t a choice that I made, but it was the only option I had. I used to think that I could never find a home in this city, but I was wrong. I found a home. Not with the Avengers or in the Compound where I lived, but in this little market.”
Wanda moved forward, taking a step closer to you and holding both of your hands in her own. “I found you.” Your heart fluttered at her words, heat rising to your cheeks despite the cold morning air. 
“I’m so happy that I decided to come here that morning because if I didn’t, I would’ve missed my opportunity to find love.”
Wanda let go of your hands and you instantly missed the warmth. However, your eyes went wide when your girlfriend got down on one knee. 
“Y/N, you brought hope and love into my life when I ran out of it. I never thought I would entertain the idea of marriage, but now… it’s all I can think about.”
A loud gasp surpassed your lips, your hands flying up to cover your mouth as Wanda pulled out a tiny red velvet box. She opened it slowly and inside sat a stunning engagement ring with a huge diamond sat on top of it.
“Will you marry me?” Wanda looked up at you hopefully as you stared down at her with tears springing to your eyes.
You instantly nodded your head as a few tears fell down your face. “Yes!” You managed to breathe out and the Sokovian was beaming. 
She took your left hand in hers and steadily slid the ring onto your finger before kissing the back of your hand. Wanda stood up hastily and pulled your body into hers by the waist, passionately moving her lips against your own. 
It was euphoric. The sunrise encased your figures in a golden hue, the cold atmosphere turning warm from each other’s body heat. You were two women who loved each other dearly, kissing in the middle of a vacant farmer’s market without a care in the world. 
ㅤ The promise of forever hung in the air that ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤsurrounded you both; and you were free. 
•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•
1 Year Later
A year after your engagement, you and Wanda had gotten married. The ceremony was absolutely gorgeous as you were surrounded by your family and friends. You would never forget the way Wanda teared up as you walked down the aisle, your father by your side. 
You recall the small giggles you’d share with Wanda as the two of you stood at the altar. Neither of you could take it seriously, whispering quiet flirtatious remarks to each other. However, your laughs died down when you reached your vows. 
“Wanda, you are my hero. Sure, you may save the world from threats for a living, but you do so much more than that. You save me from purse thieves and kill the spiders in my apartment because I’m too scared to go near them.” 
Wanda and the audience seated in front of you had laughed at your words. You let out a shaky breath, Wanda sending you a reassuring smile before you continued.
“Whenever I order a burger, you always eat the tomato because you know how much I dislike them. You take care of the tiny cuts I get from work, sometimes being a little too dramatic about my injury.
You looked down at your hands nervously before returning your gaze to the brunette who stood in front of you. The white dress she had on was absolutely gorgeous, complementing her emerald eyes perfectly.
“But you’re always so gentle, you’re always there for me. I promise to do the same for you. I won’t kill the spiders for you, but I’ll be there whenever you need me, even when you don’t. I’ll be on standby anyway.”
You were entranced by the woman who stood in front of you. You weren’t too fond of public speaking, but it was easy when Wanda was with you; everything was easier with Wanda around.
“I’m so grateful for you, Wanda Maximoff. You are the other half of my heart and soul that I didn’t realize was missing, but now that I’ve found you; I never intend on letting you go. Sorry, but you’re stuck with me.”
You ended your vows with a small chuckle. Wanda’s eyes were focused on your own, shining brightly as a smile crossed her features. When her turn came around, you were practically a melted puddle by the end of it. 
“Y/N, you are my love. I don’t think you realize just how deeply I love you. I would do anything for you. From fighting off an entire army to letting you eat some of my food even if you said you weren’t hungry.” 
The room filled with laughter once more, a blush coming to your cheeks from being called out. Food just tasted better when it wasn’t your own. 
“I’ll let you fight your own battles, but I’ll always be there for backup. I promise to you that I will do everything in my power to keep you happy and safe because you are my main priority.. I’ll be anything you need me to be; a best friend, a shoulder to cry on, a protector, a wife. You name it and I’ll be it for you.”
You were a crying mess when Wanda finished her vows. You felt an overwhelming feeling of love consume you. Her words struck a chord within you and just… god damn it, you loved her so much. 
After the ‘I do’s,’ you and Wanda kissed as if you were the only people in the room. Honestly, it felt like it at that moment. You had just declared your devotion and unwavering love to one another.
It was the beginning of forever and you couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for you both. 
•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•
2 Years Later
Two years of marriage had been interesting. The first year went flawlessly, it was as if you and Wanda were on a high. It was the most intense and passionate year that the two of you had ever shared. The two of you had purchased a condo together, moving out of your former apartment.  
Long nights of love-making that spilled over to the morning, working out together, and spending practically every single minute together possible. Of course, the two of you still had your respective jobs, but that never affected your relationship.
The married life seemed like smooth sailing, but little did you know, there was a thunderstorm not too far ahead. Treacherous waves and destructive lightning were in the near future, you just didn’t know it yet.
Things had started going south at a relatively slow pace. Wanda was progressively assigned to more missions, spending less time at home and an increased amount of time at work. You didn’t let it get to you at the time, it was the way life worked. Wanda was literally a superhero and the world always seemed to need saving. 
This went on for several months. Waking up to an empty bed and going to bed the same way. You rarely saw your wife and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t upset you. It was a drastic change from what you were used to. You only saw the Sokovian for an hour or two, every other day.
And when you did see her, your time was filled with arguing over things that neither of you could really remember. There was a sudden halt to all forms of affection, animosity taking its place. 
It was particularly bad the night you brought up the topic of Wanda’s presence and the lack thereof.
•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•
You had been lying in bed, your head resting against the headboard as you scrolled through your phone. The sound of the front door opening had caught your attention and you quickly tossed your phone aside and stood up, making your way out of the bedroom.
You were met with Wanda taking off her shoes in front of the door. Her eyes darted up to you, the annoyance that crossed her face had hurt you, not that you would tell her that.
“Hey, you’re back early.” You stated, maintaining a happier tone to avoid an argument. Wanda walked past you and toward the kitchen, opening up the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.
She shut the fridge and turned around to look at you. “Why? Did you not want me here? Because I can leave if it’s such a problem.” 
You were taken aback by Wanda’s attitude. You spoke one sentence and somehow managed to upset her. It was absurd.
Despite your growing irritation, you remained calm. You hated fighting with your wife and you knew that someone had to be the bigger person.
“No, it’s not a problem at all. I’m glad you’re here. You’ve been gone a lot and I miss you.” You smiled, walking over to your wife who still stood in the kitchen, wrapping your arms around her waist.
However, the brunette grabbed your arms and tore them off her body, whipping around to face you. 
She was clearly angry and you didn’t understand how any of what you said could’ve pissed her off. “Yeah, I’m gone a lot because people need me. I can’t drop everything to be with you just because you’re needy as fuck.” Wanda spoke bitterly as she glared at you. 
Your chest tightened at her words, flashbacks of your wedding day hitting you. You took a deep breath, gulping to prevent a sob from coming out.
“I thought I was your main priority or did you just make that up for show? To have everyone at our wedding believe that I’m of any importance to you?” 
You were getting angry, your voice rose slightly. You felt your blood pressure rising, your body getting hot from your frustration.
“Wanda, I just want to see you more because you’re my wife. It has nothing to do with being needy, seeing you more than an hour or two every few days is a fucking standard in a marriage!”
You took a step back from Wanda as you screamed. You were fed up with being made out to be some clingy person when you were simply being a wife to the Sokovian. She rolled her eyes at you, crossing her arms over her chest as she gazed at you. 
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
“Well, then maybe our marriage was a mistake.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Wanda spoke without thinking, not caring about anything other than going for the killshot and winning the argument. Her words seemed to have worked as you visibly deflated.
Your anger was replaced with sadness. You let out a dark chuckle at her words, shaking your head before walking into the bedroom slamming the door behind you, and locking it. 
Wanda didn’t expect that reaction, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that she had won the argument. She figured she would be sleeping on the couch tonight and she was satisfied with that. You didn’t want to see her and she didn’t want to see you. 
So, the Sokovian brought her bottle of water over to the living room, placing it on the coffee table before crashing onto the couch. She got comfortable, closing her eyes as slumber took over her.
•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•
3 Weeks Later
Since the argument, things were the same, but different all at once. Wanda still went on mission after mission, but you had taken up more shifts at the restaurant. You didn’t want to be alone in the condo any longer than you had to be. You needed the extra money anyway. 
When you were home, you were silent, no longer bothering to speak to your wife. You were two strangers that occupied a living space together. Wanda’s words played in your head like a broken record. It was all you could think about whenever you’d see her. 
The promise of forever hung in the air that surrounded you both; and you were trapped. Your life had become a vicious cycle of tension and avoidance.
Your engagement and wedding felt like an absolute lie now. They always say the first years of marriage are the hardest, but you didn’t think it would be this difficult.
You and Wanda had petty arguments over the six years you two had been together, but they were rare and were usually resolved quickly.
But not this, no, this entire situation was different. You were in a never-ending loop of anger and resentment, and you couldn’t take it anymore. 
•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•
Wanda pulled out her keys and unlocked the door to the condo. She had just gotten back from an emergency meeting with the team. The Sokovian stopped in her tracks as soon as she opened the door. 
There you were, sat at the kitchen table. You were leaning back, your arm resting on the table as your hand enclosed around a glass of whiskey. Your bloodshot, red eyes, and the dried streaks of tears that adorned your cheeks were evidence of your crying. Wanda had never seen you so down. 
The brunette slowly shut the door behind her, surprised when you spoke. She didn’t think you’d noticed her presence, your eyes trained on the glass in your hand. “We need to talk.”
Wanda nodded her head at your words and slowly approached the table. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she saw a stack of papers on the table. 
Wanda sat down across from you and finally, you looked at her. The Sokovian’s heart clenched as you stared at her emotionlessly. You downed the entire glass of alcohol, not even wincing at the burn, but welcoming it. You put the glass down and cleared your throat before speaking. 
“Wanda, I love you so much, but we can’t keep living like this.” Your voice was hoarse, a result of your earlier crying and the beverage you had just ingested. Wanda stared at you in confusion.
“What are you talking about?” The Sokovian felt fear slowly creeping in. She didn’t have a good feeling about this. 
“Oh, come on. You know what I’m talking about. We act like we don’t even know each other anymore. We aren’t even wives anymore, we’re just two people who live together.” You didn’t have the energy to yell anymore, your voice was soft and calm.
Wanda still didn’t understand the direction this conversation was going in. Nothing could’ve prepared her for your next words. 
“I visited a lawyer and hired him. He was going to give you these, but I decided to do it myself.” You sat up and pushed the papers across the table. “I’m officially serving you with divorce papers.”
Wanda’s heart stopped as she comprehended your words. She couldn’t believe this was happening. 
“Wha- what? A divorce? Please tell me you’re joking.” Wanda looked down at the papers and back up to you in utter disbelief.
“I wish I was joking, but I’m not. I want a divorce.” You were eerily calm, maintaining your composure while Wanda felt like she was going to crumble to pieces at any given moment. 
“Is this about my missions? If it is, I’ll ask Steve to relax my workload. I’ll be around more often and I’ll stop being an asshole. Just, please don’t do this. I’ll make it right, I promise.” Wanda leaned forward and reached out for your hand pleadingly, but you didn’t let her.
You pulled your arm off of the table and shook your head. “Wanda, you shouldn’t have to make it up to me in the first place. It shouldn’t take a divorce for you to finally act like a proper wife. I’m not changing my mind.” You spoke firmly, but Wanda refused to accept your words.
The Sokovian abruptly stood up, the loud sound of her chair scraping against the floor filled the room.
“So, that’s it? You’re just gonna give up on everything we have? You’re gonna throw in the towel because things are a little rough right now? You’re a fucking coward, Y/N!” 
Wanda was enraged as you stared at her unimpressed. Her chest was heaving as she glared at you. “This is exactly why this needs to happen. We can’t have one conversation without someone yelling.” You stood up slowly, rounding the table and making your way to the front door. 
Wanda watched your every move like a hawk. You reached for your purse that hung beside the door and flung it over your shoulder before turning around to face the Sokovian. “I suggest you get a lawyer as well.” You spoke simply and turned back around, your hand on the doorknob. 
Something in Wanda went off, seeing you about to walk out had raised alarms in her mind. You were really leaving her. The brunette moved without a single thought, rushing over to you as you pulled the door open. She gripped your wrist tightly, causing your head to turn back to her, a sad expression on your face.
“Please don’t leave me. I love you and you love me. Does that not mean anything to you anymore?” Wanda’s anger dissipated to desperation. She stared at you right in the eyes, begging you to stay. Pleading you not to put an end to your marriage.
“Our love means the absolute world to me, Wanda. But sometimes… love just isn’t enough.”
You smiled sadly at the Sokovian before gently pulling her hand off of your wrist. It was kinda difficult considering how firm her grip had been, but you managed. 
You walked out and all Wanda could do was sit there and watch as you walked down the hall and away from all of the memories you had made together. You never thought that your marriage with the brunette would come to an end, let alone an ugly one.
But your marriage had become toxic, slowly feeding away at any sort of happiness you had left. It was a painful decision to come to; a divorce, but it felt like the right one. The Sokovian was right, you did love her; which is why you needed to put an end to the torture.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ Wanda Maximoff is the love of your life; ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ but you had to let her go.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
───────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────────
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tavvattales · 3 years
Note
hihi! was wondering if i could request a fluff where reader is singing/humming to themselves and [character] overhears? with bennett, xiao and childe <3 ty!! <33
Yesss! I love this so much 🥰 Here you are, I hope you like it and thanks so much for your patience 😊
If you can, please listen to Thomas Bergersen's song Promise from his album Illusions. It fits perfectly with this request 🥰
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GENSHIN IMPACT Character x gn reader fluff stories~♡♡
Scenario: Your beautiful voice
Characters: Bennett, Xiao, and Childe/Tartaglia(Seperate)
Pairings: Bennett x gn reader, Xiao x gn reader, Childe x gn reader
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety/sleepless nights, minor swearing
SFW------> Click down below for some massive fluff
Bennett:
● This guy absolutely loves the sound of your voice. When you soothe him after a long day with just your voice he wishes he could just hear you speak forever. The way you praise him and tell him how proud you are of him makes his heart melt every time. It's no wonder that when he hears you sing for the first time he hopes the moment would never end.
You had your fair share of bad luck in the past, but this took the cake. The Adventures guild asked you to check out some hidden ruins that were discovered that were said to be haunted. You somehow managed to get yourself trapped inside the old decrepit ruins while investigating the supposedly haunted remains when the ceiling above you collapsed, blocking your path.
You heaved a frustrated sigh, "I wish I didn't decide to go off on my own. ." You mutter, plopping down on one of the rocks that had fallen from the ceiling. Thank the Archons you didn't get seriously hurt, "Bennett's company would be nice right about now," you said with a frown. Thankfully being a skilled adventurer, you had packed enough supplies to last a while, at least until somebody realized you were missing. After all, these rocks were far too heavy for you to lift on your own.
A sudden shiver crept up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep yourself somewhat calm, "Right. . Supposedly haunted, they said. This is fine. Yep, " you grumble. You could swear you felt eyes all around you. The only thing that helped you calm down was to sing softly, so taking a deep breath you start singing.
Bennett on the other hand was getting worried as it was getting late and you always managed to come back before it got too late. He wished he could have gone with you, but he was tied up with another commission that he just barely managed to complete. He was starting to get restless and decided to make his way over to the guild to ask where you had gone off to.
Upon getting an answer Bennett ran as fast as his legs could carry him to come find you and didn't stop until he reached your destination. Sweat plastered his face, his silver hair clinging about. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his emerald eyes washed with worry. That's when he heard a soft, faint singing. Bennett's heart fluttered as he recognized that it was you.
Your singing voice danced in the old ruins, painting the air with a sense of gentleness. It seemed to calm the restless spirits as the feeling of anxiety washed away. Your voice grew louder, but still kept the same graceful, velvety tone. Bennett paused for a moment, his heart pounding as he listened to your beautiful voice. He knew he had to come get you, but he couldn't help but linger just a moment longer so he could take in you gentle voice.
This was a rare treat indeed for him. You only ever sing when you're by yourself. He considers himself super lucky in this moment.
Bennett x gn reader END
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Xiao:
● When Xiao heard your voice for the first time it was when you were speaking to Verr Goldet about renting a room at the Wangshu Inn. You voice caught his attention because it was so soft spoken. It made his heart flutter in ways it never did before. He wanted to get to know you, but never knew how to approach you so he stayed hidden and out of sight. When he heard you sing for the first time, he felt a tug in his heart.
You shot awake, your chest heaved as you tried to calm your breathing. Sheets soaked and sweat running down your temples, you were drenched. Another nightmare about your past you were desperately trying to run from taunted you as it lingered in your mind. You took slow, staggered breaths, trying to slow your pounding heart. The moon was high in the sky as it peeked through your window letting you know the moon wasn't even close to setting.
"Damn it," you let out a shaking breath, wiping the hair from your face. Once you steady your breathing you slip out of your bed and head towards the sink to wash the tiredness and sweat from your face. The water was cool, refreshing, as it washed away your worries. You changed into clean sleeping garments as you toss your sweat covered ones into a hamper in the corner of your room.
Debating on going back to sleep you ultimately decide against it, instead you decide to relax out on the balcony. Your room was on the highest floor of the Inn overlooking almost all of Liyue. It was absolutely breathtaking. You lean over the balcony rails, taking in your surroundings. The moon danced across your features, casting beautiful shadows across your face. You take in a breath of the crisp night air before you start singing.
You sang of your past, sorrowful, yet everything about it was beautiful. Your voice was soft, tears bubbling at the sides of your glimmering eyes as you felt the music in you flow. Little did you know someone was watching you silently and with care.
Xiao was perched on his usual spot on the roof also taking in the scenery before he noticed you. He watched as the moonlight enveloped you beautifully. Xiao's golden gaze shimmered, his deep forest green hair blowing gently in the night time breeze as he sucked in a breath for a moment, "Hmm. .?" He muttered, pulling his knee towards his chest as he leaned his head against it, his other leg dangling from the roof.
He closed his eyes, listening carefully to your sorrowful song. The sound of your voice caught his heart and how he longed to comfort you, to touch you, hold you in his arms where you would be safe and sound from the past you so long to run from. Xiao swore from this moment forward that he would protect you.
You heard rumors of an Adeptus living at the Inn and you hoped one day you would meet him. Tonight, though, all he wanted was to listen to you.
Xiao x gn reader END
----------------------------------------------------
Childe:
● He really lives up to his alias. You both always find yourself playfully bantering back and forth. He pushes your buttons because he loves the way you react and vice versa. The playful tone in your voice drives him crazy, but in all the best ways. When he hears you sing for the first time it was after a really long day. It calmed him down instantly.
Childe came home groggily and clearly overworked. There were bags under his tired sapphire eyes, his red hair disheveled, "Y/N, I'm home," he calls for you. You were in the kitchen preparing supper, a savory smell lingering in the air. You came out if the kitchen to greet him excitedly, an apron tied snuggly around your waist. The sight of you excited to greet him made him smile as he pulled you into a deep hug, "Mm, I missed you so much, sweetheart. Today was brutal, " he vented, kissing the top of your head.
"You look exhausted. I'm sorry, honey. I wish they wouldn't over work you so much. . ." You pout, worried for the wellbeing of your lover, reaching up to fix strands of his messy hair before placing a small kiss to his cheek, "Get comfortable while I set the table. Dinner is just about ready, " you instructed, pulling away from his warm embrace, pulling him along to the kitchen table to get him situated.
You quickly set the table and serve dinner. The both of you enjoying a delicious meal while he talked about his day. You gaze at him lovingly, reaching out to grasp his hand as the two of you ate. After dinner Childe attempts to clean up the dishes before you abruptly stop him, "Nu uh. You go take a nice long soak in the tub and rest up. You've done enough for the day. I'll clean up, okay?"
"Awh, my darling is so caring," He chuckles and swiftly steals a soft, but warm kiss. You lean into it, standing on your tip toes, your face flushed pink before pulling away, "I'll meet you in the bedroom then." He whispers in your ear teasingly.
You give him a playful shove in response, "Yes, now go on." You feel the heat rising across your face as you try to calm your beating heart. You take your time cleaning up so he could have more time to relax in the tub. Finishing up, you untie your apron and hang it up. All you wanted to do was lay down and hold the love of your life so you make your way to the bedroom.
Childe is already slowly dozing off as he looks up at you from the bed, his sleepy gaze following your graceful movements towards the bed. You softly plop down next to him, "You'll catch a cold that way, you know," you said, picking up the towel that was on the dresser. You reached over to him to pat his hair dry, but he wraps his arms around your waist, catching you off guard.
He pushes you close to him, your face flushed, "Let me just hold you like this, please?" He looked down at you, pleadingly. How could you say no? You snuggle gently into his chest, breathing in his scent, his arms resting on the curve of your back. He was so sleepy, you wanted to lull him into happy dreams, so with a soft gentle voice you started to sing.
You sang an old Snezhnayan lullaby, your voice sweet, like honey. His eyes widened, then softened with surprise. Your gentle way of singing was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. He squeezes you a little tighter, his eyes heavy. You reached up to gently stoke his cheek as he drifted to sleep, happy that he was able to hear you sing, knowing he was going to have the best dreams tonight.
He hopes that you'll sing for him again and he'll be waiting patiently for that day.
Childe x gn reader END
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THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING! I had SOOO much fun writing this piece. Enjoy~ ♡♡
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wkemeup · 4 years
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summary: A chemical spill, uncontrollable desires rushed to the surface, an unbridled need, and the consequences in the aftermath  pairing: steve x reader word count: 5k warnings: SMUT (18+), sex pollen (dub/con), a very slight dom!steve, angst, absolute filth ok dont shame me a/n: first sex pollen fic, first steve smut. felt right. and hot. 
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“Rogers! Watch your six, dammit!” you shouted, hair whipping into your face as you lunged at a stray opponent aiming a gun directly at the back of Steve’s head. Roundhouse kick to his hand and the weapon flung halfway across the room; another blow to the man’s temple and then, he collapsed to the ground in a heavy thud.
“That’s what I have you for, isn’t it?” Steve chuckled from the doorway, turning back with a smirk over his shoulder as he nudged his way into the vault with the edge of his shield. All confidence and charisma and still, his ears were a little pink, his eyes flickering down at the floor by your feet when he held your gaze a moment too long. A hesitancy in his teasing. A sincerity nestled in pale blue eyes.
You chewed on the edge of your lip, unbothered by the coppery taste left behind by the hit of a Hydra agent unconscious at your feet, and you side stepped your way into the vault. Steve stood with his arm extended, gesturing you to lead the way, smile creeping up the left side of his mouth before he followed behind.
This was how things were between the two of you. Flirty banter. Quiet moments. Poking at the tension in the air with the blunt edge of a knife. Careful, but still pressing. Lingering. Waiting in agony until the moment it snapped.
“What is this place?” you asked, covering your nose with the crook of your elbow as a lingering burning sensation filled the air.
The walls were lined with chemicals placed neatly in organized vials, within enclosed glass tubes, and refrigerated syringes. Beautiful bright colors to dull, dreary shades, big and small, carefully sealed, with hazmat suits hanging from the rack at the corner of the room. At the center sat a single metal table with restraints hanging down off the sides.
You stepped closer to it, carefully examining the cuffs made of leather where it cracked along the outside from years of use. You shuddered to think of the men they laid strapped on this cold unforgiving surface, injecting god knows what into their veins.
“This is sick,” you exhaled, dropping the restraint and watching as it swung over the edge of the table.
“It’s Hydra,” Steve replied tensely. “Whatever they have in here, it can’t be good. Let’s just get what we came for and get the hell out.”
You nodded, walking closer to the shelves in search of the small vial Dr. Cho described. Blue in color, almost translucent, a liquid of only a few milliliters in total. If you were lucky it would be labeled NR-829. You didn’t know what it was for, but you weren’t one to ask questions. Steve went along with the mission without hesitation and you followed his lead. You trusted Steve enough for that.
It took a while as you filtered through dozens of unknown chemicals until you found the vial. Tucked in the back of the shelf, hidden behind a series of test tubes and a particularly large glass bottle with a large ‘X’ scribbled in black marker over the cap, the light blue serum sat in wait. You grinned, gently pulling the tube from its stand and holding it up for Steve to see.
“This is why I keep you around,” Steve teased, a sigh of relief etched into his tone.
“Thought you needed me to watch your six, huh?”
“That, too.”
Steve hung his head with a smile so wide on his face it made your stomach twist into knots. Hands planted firmly on his hips, stealing careful glances up at you from under long, thick lashes, you couldn’t help but admire the tenderness he carried. Even under pounds of muscle, a super soldier’s strength running through his veins, and the weight of the world on his shoulders, he still managed to carry an innocence, a lightness, and he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.
“We should go,” Steve said after a moment and you nodded quickly, hoping he didn’t notice your staring.
You were just about to place the vial into the small pouch at the edge of your hip when a movement at the edge of the vault froze you dead in your tracks.
A flicker of metallic.
The click of the safety unlatching.
The grunt of a man in vengeance.
Laying on the floor, mouth covered in blood as it drenched down from his broken nose, the man you’d rendered unconscious now aimed a gun in your direction; a sickening grin pealed up along his cheeks to reveal yellowed teeth soaked in red.
Steve’s arm jutted out in front of you, yanking your body quickly out of the line of fire, but the man only smirked. He didn’t attempt to follow in his aim. Instead, he narrowed in on something beyond your position. Something on the shelves.
The gunshot rang out, echoing painfully within the small confines of the vault enough for a violent ringing to pierce in your ears, and still, you heard the glass shatter.
The air filled with the sudden sweet smell of candied apples and caramel; a scent specific to the night Steve dragged you out to Coney Island in efforts to relive his old memories, when you’d spent nearly half the night sitting on the docks prying sticky caramel from your fingers and laughing until your stomach hurt. The way he’d looked at you that night, like maybe all these feelings stirring deep in your chest might not be unrequited, how he’d smiled just enough until it pressed dimples to his cheeks.
No ordinary chemical could produce a smell like that. Not something so specific. Nothing but—
“Oh God.”
Steve was at the doors to the vault, desperately trying to pry his shield between them as the chemical spill must have set off emergency protocols and sealed you inside, but it was no use. He let out a visceral groan as he used all of his force, and still nothing.
“Steve,” you crocked, already feeling the sweat dripping at the nape of your neck. Your eyes glanced back at the emerald green liquid fizzling on the cement floor. The smell was intoxicating, burning almost to the point where it physically ached, and you closed your hands tight into fists.
“What is that?” Steve grunted, finally turning away from the doors. He brushed at his nose, confused, as tried to find the source. “It... it smells like... coffee and—and cinnamon sugar.”
The bakery down the block from the tower. Where you’d taken Steve in the early hours of the mornings when he’d find himself standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, shame lingering in his features and a redness in his eyes. It was a safe haven. An escape. The smell of a pleasant memory.
You’d heard that this chemical had the ability to manifest individually to those it effected, but it still took you by surprise. Drawn on the desires of its host, different to each in its unrelenting path. There was no time to wonder what it meant, why it smelled like the bakery around the corner and the nights you spent with Steve when the nightmares woke him in a blinding panic. There was no time because your eyes kept flickering down the lines of Steve’s body, tracing him hungrily, like a woman starved.
You choked back a moan, squeezing your thighs together as a sudden all-encompassing emptiness tore through you.
“Steve, listen to me,” you tried again, voice a little dry as you stretched your neck away from the collar of your suit, tearing your stare from his body as you focused on the wall in front of you. You zipped down the edge of your suit to your sternum and it only provided an ounce of relief. You were suffocating under it, burning, and you swore if you didn’t get it off soon you might collapse.
Steve didn’t seem to hear you though as he walked towards the exposed chemical on the floor, examining it. “Why expose us to this chemical instead of just killing us? What’s the point? What the hell is this stuff anyway?”
Your legs were crossed at the ankles, thighs pressing tightly together in an effort to relieve some of the ache at your core, but it did nothing. Not when you knew what you needed. Not when he was standing right there.
“Steve, please,” you whined, close to tears, hands gripping tight at the edges of the metal table.
Steve whipped around at the sound of your voice, panicked by the urgency, the desperation in it. His shoulder tensed, eyes darting wide at the sight of you.
The chemical had taken its effect quickly. Your hairline was drenched in sweat, heart pounding so painful in your chest you were certain he could hear it across the room, but what surprised him most was the slight tang in the air, a sweet kind of smell that was only and entirely yours; one he only dared allow himself to notice once before, under the cover of night when he’d walked past your bedroom in and heard the soft whimpers beyond the door.
Your legs were shaking under you, ready to collapse, and Steve darted forward. His hand gripped at your waist, trying to hold you steady.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he cooed sweetly, though there was a panic in his voice as he turned to look back at the sealed exit. He exhaled a heavy breath, pulling you in closer. “I’ve got you. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
The pressure of his hands was unlike anything you’d ever felt. It was exhilarating, like the touch of lightening to your skin and still, feather soft. It was a jolt of desperation that only worsened the pulsing at your core, the agonizing emptiness you felt between your legs.
You whimpered, shaking terribly in his arms, and then, his hands moved slowly up along your body to cup at your cheeks. He pushed away the damp hairs on your face, sky blue eyes searching yours, trying to understand what was affecting you like this, so concerned, so full of worry, but it was too much.
Your skin was too sensitive; every touch heightened beyond what you’d ever experienced and each rub of his thumb over your cheek bone, each pressured dip of his fingers against your neck, was almost unbearable. Your cunt clenched around air, waiting eagerly to be filled and used and — fuck — you were going to die if you didn’t get that damn suit off now.
“Y/n?” Steve called, though it sounded far away, like a lingering semblance of an echo long carried through a tunnel.
Unable to take it, you tore Steve’s hands away from you, stumbling back until you hit the table with a painful corner to your spine. You whined, shaking, whimpering, and as Steve tried to take another step closer to you, you held up a desperate hand.
“It’s not effecting you as quickly because—because of the serum,” you gasped, trying to find your breath as a hand slipped under your collar, pushing down at the zipper on your suit in search of relief, “but it will. It will, Steve, and we—we have to—God, we’ll die if we don’t, but—”
“What are you talking about? What’s happening to you?” Steve demanded, trying to step closer to you, to reach out in comfort, but you flinched away. You still had some semblance of control, even if your dignity was in pieces. You wouldn't dare let him touch you again until he understood what this was, until he could have some kind of choice.
“The chemical,” you shuddered, pointing to the shattered vial on the floor, “it’s the extract of the pollen Tony warned us about in Brussels.”
Steve narrowed his eyes. Brussels was almost three years ago but he remembered it well. They’d been tasked with infiltrating a Hydra base attempting to create an army of enhanced super soldiers by pairing the gifted with their knock off experiments. Creating offspring artificially wasn’t an option, it seemed, and well, Hydra needed to convince their participants to engage.
Realization hit Steve like a truck and he stumbled back, eyes wide. “N-No, it’s can’t be. That stuff should have been destroyed when we blew up the base...”
“Should have been,” you repeated, nodding slowly as you shrugged your shoulder out of the suit. The cool air touched your skin and it was instant relief. Teeth clenched, lump in your throat, you looked at Steve. “We don’t have a lot of time. I—I have to get this off. I feel like I’m burning alive...”
“Okay, okay,” Steve nodded, rushing towards you to help. You choked back a whine as his fingers touched over bare skin, slipping under your suit as he helped peel away the skin tight fabric until it dropped down over your thighs and was left in a pile on the floor.
Left only in your sports bra and panties, Steve started to evert his eyes, even as his breathing started to pick up in pace. It was affecting him slower than it did you, but it was still in his veins, it was still coming for him.
“Steve,” you gasped, your hands fumbling with the band of your bra, trying to pull it over your head. Your nipples were pebbled hard, the touch of the fabric agonizing against the buds. Your thighs squeezed tight together and you could feel how soaked through the thin cotton between your legs had become. You could smell it yourself, so you knew Steve could, too.
“Steve, please. I—I need you. It hurts so much…”
Steve swallowed, eyes gazing up at your body as you stripped clean of the remaining material. He tried desperately to hold your eye, but as your hand slipped down between your legs in search of some relief, he followed.
Your fingers dipped in between the folds, swirling in the wetness that dripped down your thighs, and even as you circled in rushed movements, sunk two fingers deep inside you, it did nothing to relieve the ache. It couldn’t be relieved on its own, not without help.
In a surge of pollen-induced confidence, you carefully reached out for Steve’s hand, letting your fingers hook around his as hooded eyes gazed up to a startling pale blue and the bite of teeth over pink, swollen lips. Slowly, you guided Steve’s hand closer to your core and when you were met with no resistance, replaced your fingers with his own, pushing his touch to the heat between your legs.
He shuddered as the wetness dripped over him, fingers moving of their own accord and circling sweetly at your clit. It was like fire through your veins, rendering you outside of yourself, and still, you needed more.
“You’re alright, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, running a free hand through your hair, but you could only whine in response, resting your forehead to his shoulder.
Hands curled into the thick fabric of his suit, dipping into the muscle in his arms as you tried to focus on the pressure on your clit, how his fingers swirled and circled and pressed and flicked at the sensitive bundle of nerves, but that emptiness lingered. It screamed at you, tore through your body and consumed you, begging to be filled, to be abused and used.
“More,” you begged, too far lost to the effects of the pollen to feel shame for the tremors in your voice or the neediness with which you rolled your hips to his fingers. “Please, Steve. I—I can’t. I need—”
“Okay, I’ve got you,” he said quickly, a softness in his tone as he helped ease you up onto the metal table. It was cold against your exposed skin, though it supplied no relief to the fever lighting like flames within your veins.
You called his name again, a desperate cry, and Steve gently ran his hands down your curves, slipping over your hips and thighs and gently returning to where you needed him. It was like he was trying to hold onto some kind of semblance of romance or affection amongst the intensity of the pollen igniting dangerous levels of dopamine and oxytocin in your brain; like maybe he could fool himself into believing it was real.
“It’s okay. I’m here, sweetheart. Just try to relax for me,” he whispered, sinking two fingers into you, and then a third. It was relief unlike anything else. The slight sting of the stretch, the rub of his knuckles by your entrance, the curving of his fingers deep inside your walls, pressing up against the spot that made your back arch up from the table.
“Fuck, Steve,” you gasped, eyes closed, overwhelmed in the sensations, in the pumping of his fingers and his thumb circling at your clit, the high that started to take over completely and render you in a mess on the table, open and exposed. “Yes! Ah—don't—don't stop!”
Even through your haze, you felt the slight touch of his lips on your forehead. Something so tender, so soft, in stark contrast to the heat of the pollen’s chemical amplifying your senses.
“That’s it,” Steve urged, his breath warm on your skin as your walls began to clench around him. Tighter. Tighter. He pumped his fingers faster, the sounds filling the room enough to draw heat to your face if it wasn’t for the heightened bliss produced by the pollen.
You rolled your hips against his hand, meeting him at his knuckles, begging for more.
More, more, more—
“Let go, doll,” Steve whispered against your ear, breath hot to your skin, “come for me.”
Closer and closer and rising to the very edge of the peak and— nothing.
You whined, a sob breaking through you as the crescendo faded out just before the highest note. Your body collapsed, sinking into hardened metal, exhausted, desperate, aching.
“What is it? What happened?” Steve questioned, panicked.
“It’s not enough,” you gasped. “I need you.”
Steve froze, slowly pulling his fingers from between your legs to find them dripping in your wetness. He closed his hand. “Y/n, I—”
“I need you to fuck me, Steve.”
He shook his head, backing up. “You don’t-- You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I do. Please, Steve,” you begged, your own fingers circling back at the head of your clit, swirling in the drench of your juices at your core and still, it wasn’t enough. It won’t ever be enough. You needed thick veins and a pulsing heartbeat, rushed thrusts, hands digging to your hips, and the labored pants of a man above you.
You needed him.
“You don’t want this,” Steve argued, determined, though you could see the pollen starting to take its effect. His pupils were blown wide, sweat dripping at the nape of his neck though he tried to brush it away. His legs were trembling.
“The pollen is only enhancing desires that already exist,” you urged, breathy and in gasps as your fingers worked tiredly at your clit and still—nothing. In your haze, you didn’t notice how Steve’s eyes widened at your confession. He stared at you for just a moment longer before he shook the thought from his mind, unwilling to let himself go there.
“Steve, I’m begging you. I gonna—I'm gonna die.”
“No, you’re not. I won’t let that happen.”
He could feel the pollen starting to take it’s hold in his own body and the longer he looked at you, exposed and ready for him, dripping, the sweet smell of your cunt filtering in the air, the closer he came to the losing edge of control.
The serum kept it at bay for a while, but he could feel his cock aching painfully hard under layers of Kevlar. The fabric rubbed against it, creating an almost burning sensation, and he understood why you were so desperate to rid yourself of your clothes.
Jesus – it was a miracle he kept it together as long as he did. He could still feel the squeeze of your pussy on his fingers; the heat, the wetness, the softest most vulnerable parts of you. His hand was sticky in your slick as he clenched his fist, nails digging painfully to his palms.
“Steve, it’s starting to affect you, too.”
He shook his head. “I can deal with it. I’ll handle it on my own.”
“You can’t, Steve. It won’t be enough.”
“It has to be!” he snapped, harsher than he meant to, but the pollen was pushing him towards an edge he wasn’t certain he’d ever come back from. “I can’t-- I won’t let that fucking chemical turn me into a monster!”
Steve groaned, raking his fingers through sweat damped hair and ridding himself of the shield and weapons strapped to his suit. He was panting long before he started shouldering the vault doors again, desperate to lodge his way through.
You closed your eyes, tears slipping past your temples as you laid on the metal table. Shaking, dripping at your core, aching. Your fingers doing nothing to relieve the painful, empty feeling left in Steve’s wake. Chills swept up your spine, like a fever, and you stared up at the ceiling, watching as the tiles swayed over one another, melting and twisting into a blur of grey cement as you listened to Steve’s labored breaths, the grunts in anguish, as he tried to break out of the vault.
But suddenly, it came to a stop.
A heavy exhale. A pained groan. And then—
“How certain are you?”
You propped yourself up on your elbows, vision blurring, dizzy, but you could still see how desperately Steve was trying to hold himself back. His arousal was thick and prominent against his thigh, a wet spot growing at the head, as he rubbed himself through the outside of his pants.
“Y/n,” he asked again, tenser, strained. “How certain are you that it’s only enhancing existing desires?”
“Certain,” you choked out. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, Steve. Since Coney Island.”
Steve gritted his teeth, and you could tell there was a part of him that lingered, wanting to know more, wanting to say something meaningful in return, but the pollen had taken a hold of him and he wasn’t the one in control anymore.
“I can’t hold back.”
You shook your head, heart racing in anticipation. “You don’t have to.”
“You don’t understand, Y/n,” Steve groaned, sliding his hand under his belt in search of some relief, unabashedly stroking himself in full view as his pants circled around his ankles. “I can feel this shit taking over and— I won’t be able to— I can’t hold myself back. Do you understand?”
He took a step closer to you, pulling his jacket off as well until he was naked before you. He paused at the edge of the table, hesitant for a moment, before slowly, he set his hands on the tops of your thighs. You moaned at the sensation, arching up for him, though he didn’t touch you where you needed him most. Instead, he let his hands travel along your legs, sliding all the way down to your ankles before he yanked hard enough to pull your body right to the edge.
You met him with a gasp, hands landing on his chest as you looked up to darkened eyes.
“It’ll be rough,” he gritted out.
You were panting, heart stammering. “I can take rough.”
“I might hurt you.”
“So hurt me, Captain,” you begged, voice low, hands snaking up around his neck.
“Say it again. Tell me you want this. I need to hear it,” he demanded, darker than you’d ever heard him, and still, there was a soft kind of pale blue in his eyes; a lingering piece of that tender, hesitant man you knew who kept his distance, who flirted and teased with shades of pink in his ears. He practically growled as his fingers dug deeper into your thighs.
“I want this,” you said firmly, your left hand raking through his hair, your right slipping down his stomach until you reached his cock. Circling your grip around his shaft, you slowly began to pump him and spread the precum down the throbbing vein underneath. His breath caught in his throat, eyes fluttering closed as he sucked in a harsh breath.
“I want you, Steve,” you whispered against his neck, your lips pressing a kiss to his pulse point before you licked a stripe along his jawline, up to his mouth, where you paused. You caught his eyes for a moment, laced in lust and thick in desire, and you mewled against his lips, “fuck me, Steve. Use me. I’m yours.”
It was hard to tell what was the pollen and what was inherently you, but when it was Steve standing in front of you, his erection sliding at your folds, his eyes gazing hungrily into yours, you couldn’t find it in you to care where the words came from. They were real desires, a real longing, a real desperation you carried deep inside you, hidden under lock and key, and the vial shattered in the back of the room only released them from their cage.
Suddenly, Steve yanked you from the table, spun you around, and held you firmly against him, his breath like fire against your neck. Your back was only kept pressed up against his chest for a moment before he pushed you flush onto the table. The cold of the metal ice against your skin, your cheek pressed onto the surface as he kept you still with a hand on the mid of your back. Your toes barely touched the ground, but Steve had a good hold on your hips with his free hand.
“That’s my girl,” he praised, his hand on your back nestling along your spine, pressing like the keys of a piano. You shuddered under him, trying to squeeze your thighs together but he kept them propped open. “Be a good girl for me, won’t you, baby? Can you do that for me?”
“Y-yes.” Your hands gripped onto the edges of the table, your toes lifting off the ground.
“Gonna let me take what I want from you? Gonna let me use your body how I want? Fuck your tight little cunt? My sweet girl...”
“Yes,” you whimpered, shaking, as the painful aching between your legs grew stronger. “All for you. Just you. Steve... please...”
Steve’s hand gripped to your hips, painful enough to leave bruises but your whole body was stripped to the bare edges, sensitive unlike you’d ever been in your life, and the divots he dug were sweet relief. You ached for more. Whatever he would give you.
You felt the tip of Steve’s cock edging at your entrance and you let out a desperate whine. You tried arched up for him as much as the position would allow, even with Steve’s hand keeping your upper body flattened on the table as he came up to you from behind.
He slid into you with ease, bottoming out in one harsh thrust that nearly jolted the entire table. You gasped, holding onto the surface, reveling in the ache of the stretch, how thick he was pressing you open, stretching you.
“Christ, you’re tight,” Steve grunted, adjusting his grip on your hip. He pulled out, just to the tip, slowly, agonizingly, before he slid back in with a shuddered breath. “So fuckin’ good, baby. Your cunt’s fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. Shit.”
You’d never heard Steve curse like that. It was foreign in his voice, but God, it was like pure sin. Pieces of him he kept hidden, desires he wouldn’t dare allow to the surface broken free by the pollen littering the air and seeping deep into his veins. A man without boundaries or confinements. A man unleashed.
“Fuck, yes, Steve,” you moaned, gripping so tightly at the edges of the table, you wondered if you might be strong enough to crack it. “God, Steve, don’t stop! Just like that—Just like—ah, fuck—”
He was relentless. Rushed. Desperate. Quick and harsh thrusts of his hips snapping against your ass, his cock throbbing and dragging against clenched walls, spurring on that twist deep in your stomach, bringing you closer and closer to release, to relief.
The noises he made only urged you on, filling the room with cries and screams, his name and yours, uncontained, unfiltered. Through the gasps in his breath, through your name exhaled low in his voice, he muttered praises and curses, his grip tightening, your skin burning against the metal surface with every drag of your body. It was a rush, a high, every thrust, every bruise he pressed into your skin, every inch closer to the peak that left you screaming his name over and over again until finally—
The ground fell out from under you, mountains crashing down, and you cried out through the free fall; impossibly sensitive, withering and desperate to hold on as he chased his own release, prolonging the longest, most intense orgasm you’d ever had, one that left you in near tears, until he came into you, releasing against your walls.
There was a moment of relief, of a comforting stillness. The labored pants of your breaths filling the room and the sticky sweet smell of sex overpowering the long faded scent of the pollen. The dizziness cleared from your mind, the high of the orgasm pulling you fully back to your senses, and you were shocked to find how cold the room had become.
And then the silence started to carry an unease within it.
Steve’s hand released its grip on your hips, on your back, unpeeling away from skin he’d colored under his touch and you tried not to wince at the sting of it because you knew he was watching you. Then, he pulled his softened cock from inside you, slipping out slowly and leaving behind a kind of emptiness that pierced straight through to your chest.
With the desperation gone, the heat of the pollen absent from your veins and a chill in your spine, you turned to find Steve, hoping for something as tender and sweet as the man you knew to offset the bruising on your body and the new kind of ache between your legs; pains you eagerly agreed to and even in your clearest thoughts knew with certainty you had wanted. Still, there was a need for more, something of the man you know Steve to be.
“Steve?”
He was scrambling to put his suit back on. Hands fumbling with his pants until he covered himself, then, quickly began to search around the room. Shaking hands yanked open drawers, throwing around papers and supplies until they covered the floor.
“Steve, hold on a moment...”
“I don’t-- I don’t have anything for you to--” he exhaled harshly, rubbing at his eyes and you realized what he meant. The sticky residue between your legs, his release and yours. He swallowed thickly, and it didn’t slip your notice that he couldn’t meet your eye. “Just-- just give me a second. I’ll-- uh—I'll find something.”
“Stevie, it’s okay,” you tried to tell him, but he couldn’t hear you.
You bent down and grabbed your suit from the floor, stepping into it as his cum had dried along your thighs. You could wash it away later. There was no concern for pregnancy. SHIELD provided all agents with standard birth control. Steve should know that and he should know that Sam would still be waiting on them in the jet, concerned that the coms hadn’t been working for the time you and Steve were trapped down there.
You crossed the room, coming up behind Steve and placing a hand on his bare shoulder. He flinched the moment your fingertips grazed his flushed skin and you pulled away, curling your hand to your chest. He turned to face you, but his eyes were focused on the floor by your feet. Even clothed, standing in front of him as the woman who had loved and adored him for years under the guise of friendship, he couldn’t bear to meet your eye.
A crack nestled in your chest, straight through your heart. God, you just wanted to hold him.
“Steve...”
The vault doors sprang open with a thunderous echo, a clear mist expelling from the ceiling.
A sudden darkness came over Steve’s features, the soft outline of his face turning hard as a growl brewed in his chest. He grabbed the gun from his waistband and bounded toward the exit. Without a moment of hesitation, he fired a single shot at the Hydra agent who had broken the vial of pollen in favor of killing either of you; still laying on the floor, barely even enough time to react to defend himself.
You gasped as a bullet lodged through the man’s head and he slumped over. Deep red pooling around him.
Steve stomped back into the vault, slipped the top of suit back over his head, ran his fingers through his hair to tame the mess. With his back turned to you, he paused.
“You have the vial we came for?” His voice was cold, detached, incredibly unlike the man you knew.
“Y-yes,” you replied, feeling for the small test tube securely placed in the container at your hip. You zipped up your suit to cover the exposed hills of your breasts; even with Steve’s back to you, it left you feeling exposed.
His back straightened, a short nod to himself, and he stepped over the body of the Hydra agent. Boots imprinting into the mess of blood, leaving a trail in their wake as he quickly made his way back to the jet.
You waited until the echoes of his steps disappeared down the hallway and you were left with a deeply unsettling silence. There, you allowed yourself to cry.
--
part two
3K notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 4 years
Text
Unrequited (Thor x Reader)
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WARNINGS: NON-CON, loss of virginity, side of Loki x reader, reader has it bad for Loki
➥ {page breaks done by @firefly-graphics​ }
summary: you, a servant, are in love with Loki, your prince. He’s never noticed, and while that’s unfortunate for you, it is much to Thor’s delight because he has noticed. And he can’t stand it.
~
You stood along the wall with the rest of the servants, waiting as patiently as ever. The other girls beside you had been fidgeting for a while, Ingrid huffing for the fifth time in minutes, and you supposed that you couldn’t blame them. The feast had commenced hours ago, and it seemed as if an end was nowhere in sight. You, however, were more than happy to wait.
A familiar hand lifted into the air, long fingers snapping to beckon you over. Without hesitation, you answered the dark-haired prince’s call, feet hurrying to take you to him. You knew what he wanted as soon as he lifted his goblet, and you were extra careful in pouring him more wine. You’d hate to spill any on him.
“Thank you, Y/N,” he absentmindedly said, the words falling so easily from his lips.
You’d heard them probably a thousand times, and just like before, you always asked:
“Is there anything else I can do for you, my prince?”
And just like always, he said:
“No, that will be all.”
You kept your smile in place as he waved you away, heart sinking as you turned to join the rest of the servants on the wall. Your fingers scraped along the pitcher in your hands, and you let your eyes fall to the ground as a particularly loud laugh climbed out of the king’s throat. You cringed at the grating noise, lip trembling as you forced your beating heart to still.
Your eyes finally rose again, landing on the prince, and your heart clenched in your chest. His dark hair shone as it brushed along his broad shoulders, long fingers dancing along the rim of his goblet. He stood out amongst the rest of the rowdy guests, his quiet disposition a stark contrast in the rowdy room. He was always quiet though.
That’s what you loved about him.
Prince Loki didn’t care to be the center of attention…just like you. He spent his time reading and writing. Occasionally, you’d walked in on him drawing a sketch or two. On most days, he was subdued, preferring to observe those around him. You noticed that he took his time when talking with people, seeming to really mull over his responses before voicing them. He was such a breath of fresh air from-.
Your thoughts were cut short by that laugh again, and you winced. King Thor bellowed, completely tickled by something Hogun had whispered to him. You straightened and glanced away from him with a small sigh.
You had no ill feelings towards the king…none of consequence anyway. Everything about him just seemed to overwhelm you. He was too loud or too big or too abrasive. He was just too much. For as long as you’d known him, he was loud and demanding and a bit spoiled. Not to mention impulsive. He and Loki were so different that you often found yourself wondering how the two could even be related.
Fortunately for you, it seemed that Loki had finally grown tired of the antics, waving you along as he stood. You set the pitcher down and rushed to follow him, trailing behind him like a pet would. Sometimes you thought that you should feel embarrassed at how completely devoted to him you were, but you couldn’t find it in yourself too.
The prince was beautiful, and not just because he was a god, but because he was Loki. His green eyes sparkled like emeralds, and his pink lips had never once formed to say anything to hurt you, the opposite in fact. His voice could soothe even the crankiest of children. Prince Loki had never been anything but kind to you, even allowing you to borrow his books.
You were irrevocably in love with him.
You knew it was silly. He was a prince, a god, the highest caliber of royalty there was, and you… You were a servant. He would never look at you the way you looked at him, but you knew that his brother had a reputation for pulling servants into his chambers through all hours of the night. Heat settled into the pit of your stomach as you thought of Loki doing the same to you.
It became clear early on though that he was not like that. At first, you thought that it had just been you, and disappointment and sorrow had eaten away at you for weeks, but you soon realized that no one was warming his bed. You hoped that one day that would change. Even if that was all the prince wanted from you, you’d happily give it to him.
You’d do anything to please him.
“Draw me a bath,” he tiredly murmured just as you closed his chamber door behind you.
“Of course.”
You breezed past him, and through his bedroom, making your way into the bath. Loki didn’t like his bath water too hot, and you waded your hand through it many times to make sure it was just right. You added some soaps to it, grabbing the bowl of flower petals you’d placed beside the tub this morning. You were seated on it, tossing them across the water just as he made his way inside. You set it down, hurrying to help him undress.
“Thor was more energetic than usual tonight,” he said, sighing as he eased into the warm water. “How do you always manage to get it perfect?”
That last part was said so softly that you wondered if you’d imagined it, and you knew that it must have been said more to himself, not meant for you. You smiled anyway.
“Did you enjoy yourself, my prince?” you genuinely wondered, resting your arms and chin on the large bath.
His head was leaned back, eyes closed as he soaked. A small smirk danced along his lips, and you eyed it.
“As well as to be expected, I suppose. I’ll never understand why Thor demands my attendance to such trivial gatherings. Nothing more than a self-congratulatory circle jerk,” he sneered.
You swallowed a laugh at his crude language.
“Pardon my wording,” he apologized.
“It’s alright. Would you like for me to wash your hair?”
You were already moving as you asked the question, but his soft ‘please’ warmed your heart. Your fingers were gentle in combing through his locks, massaging his scalp. A low moan rumbled deep in his throat, and you ran your eyes over him as he relaxed under your ministrations.
When you were done, you cupped some water in your hands a few times before letting it run over his hair. You swallowed when he began to rise, and as much as you didn’t want to, you looked away.
“I’ll go turn back your bed,” you told him as you turned around to give him some privacy.
As you pulled his sheets and covers back, you couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingers over the cool material. You wondered how comfortable they were, how cool they’d feel against your skin. How cool they would feel while the prince had his way with you…
You snatched your hand back like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. You swallowed down your wanton thoughts as Loki exited, fully dressed for bed.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, my prince?”
Your voice was soft as you asked the same question you did every night, hoping against hope that he’d finally say what you wanted to hear. That he’d ask you to stay, ask you to share his bed, ask you to please him…
He threw you a smile, so small it was barely there, but you knew him so well that you could easily spot the subtle change in expression.
“That will be all. You’re dismissed,” he told you.
With a shaky nod, you turned and left. The minute you were in the corridor, you pressed your back to his chamber door, tears in your eyes. The desire that coursed through you should have terrified you, but it only fueled the hope in your heart. You had to hope that he at least desired you half as much as you did him.
When you finally got your legs to move down the hall, you passed the king’s wing. A feminine giggle echoed down the hall, and you turned your head just in time to see his chamber doors slamming shut, the tail end of a flowy dress nearly getting caught.
You blinked, lips parting as your shoulders sagged.
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Your fingers ghosted over the beauty products before you, brows furrowed in confusion. You knew that it was wrong of you to sneak into Ingrid’s room, but you were desperate. You only wanted to borrow a few things that she wouldn’t even notice were gone. She had so much.
You bit your lip, wondering if this was even the right thing to do. What if he laughed at you, thinking you silly for this? What if he didn’t take you seriously after this? What if he thought less of you? What if you were only making a fool of yourself? With a sigh, you dropped Ingrid’s rouge just as her door opened.
There was a frown on her striking features as soon as her eyes landed on you. It was late in the night, and her hair was perfectly mussed, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. You had suspicions that she was the one you saw going into the king’s chamber earlier.
“Never pegged you for a thief, Y/N,” she chuckled, closing her door.
“I wasn’t stealing…only borrowing,” you replied unconvincingly.
“Uh huh,” she brushed you off, nearing you to see what you had.
She took it and turned it over, a small smirk gracing her lips.
“…and…just who are you trying to get all prettied up for?”
Your mouth opened and closed, words failing you as you pondered over whether or not you should tell her the truth. Deep down, maybe a part of you wanted to get caught. Maybe you wanted to ask for her help? You doubted that she’d help you without the truth though.
“Don’t tell me… You’re trying to gain the king’s favor…?”
Her voice was colder, eyes hardening as yours widened.
“The-the king?” you exclaimed, eyebrows rising.
She scoffed, running her eyes over you.
“I already have to fight for his attention with just about every other woman in this kingdom. I’d hate to have to put you in your place because you got way in over your head-.”
“No, no, heavens no,” you said, frowning in disgust. “I am not trying to seduce the king.”
The thought made your stomach turn. She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes on you as you slowly rose to your feet.
“Well, then who? Because a girl like you doesn’t go rifling through other people’s things just to seduce no one,” she argued.
“Well, trust me, it is not king Thor. He’s all yours. He’s not exactly my taste…”
Her frown deepened.
“Who is?”
A soft sigh escaped you, and again, you wondered if you should be truthful or not. Ingrid would probably press you for details, and you weren’t ready to embarrass yourself further by admitting you were hopelessly in love with prince Loki. Your eyes reluctantly met hers again, and her face evened out as her eyes lit up.
“The prince,” she whispered, a genuine smile on her face, a light scoff escaping her. “I shouldn’t be surprised, and yet… I am. You were right. The king isn’t your taste.”
You swallowed.
“Can you…help me?”
“You sweet summer child,” she tsk’d. “You do understand that while the prince is definitely no Thor, he is still a man. There’s a very high chance that he’ll only want one thing from you.”
You rubbed your arm, gently shaking your head.
“I don’t care,” you whispered. “I just…want him.”
She let out a long exhale, eyes softening as she eyed you.
“I see. How…cute, but I’ll help you.”
She grabbed your arm, pulling you along.
“You wait on him hand and foot. I always thought you were just being a dutiful servant, maybe even a bit of a pushover, but now it all makes sense.”
“You don’t have to tell me how silly I am,” you mumbled.
“I’m not,” she chuckled, placing a finger under your chin, lifting your head. “I’m commending you.”
You were sure the confusion was clear on your face.
“The prince has seen how wonderful a servant you are. I’m willing to bet that he has never had one complaint about you. He thinks you’re perfect, and now you will show him that you have even more to offer.”
Her smile grew, and so did your nerves.
The night was spent with Ingrid teaching you everything she knew. How to walk, how to smile, how to speak. You hadn’t realized that seducing required so much work, and you suddenly realized that it was going to take more than you thought to get what you wanted.
When morning came, she helped you dress, whispering words of encouragement to you. She assured you that you could do this, could have him right where you had wanted him for years, and with her guidance, you left to go down to the kitchens to gather his breakfast.
You breezed into the prince’s chambers like you did every morning. You walked through his receiving room and laid out his breakfast before making your way to the large windows on the far-left side of his room. You pulled the drapes aside, letting the sunlight in just as a groan sounded from behind you.
“Is it morning already?”
His voice was always husky in the morning, deep and groggy from sleep.
“Yes, my prince. Do not forget that the king requested you join him this morning for a meeting regarding the-.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” he sighed. “Heaven forbid Thor tend to his duties as a king should without me by his side to guide him.”
When finished, you turned to help him out of bed. All of his movements halted as you neared, and you avoided his eye as you went to turn the cover back. You could feel his eyes on you, and your body grew warm under his scrutiny.
Ingrid had lent you one of her dresses. It was the typical cream garment that all of the servants donned, but the neckline sat lower, showing off a tasteful eyeful of cleavage. Where your regular dress had loosely flowed around you like water, this one hugged you, accentuating your curves.
You were startled when Loki’s hand found your wrist, stopping you. You finally looked at him, brows furrowed ever so slightly as he stared at you, a small frown on his own face. Your arm trembled at the feel of his hand on you, and he noticed, quickly letting you go. Much to your disappointment…
“Thank you, Y/N, but I can take it from here,” he quietly told you.
You nodded, backing away.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
For the first time, his reply did not come quickly. There was a brief pause, hesitation that had never been there before, and butterflies fluttered in your stomach. He cleared his throat, shaking his head.
“…no.”
Your heart sank, and you nodded, turning away.
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As usual, the king was the last to arrive, everyone else having long taken their seats. Loki had been one of the first to arrive, and you had happily served him water while he waited. Thor strolled into the hall like there wasn’t a care in the world, taking his time in sliding into his seat before beckoning one of the servants over.
Your eyes did what they do best and fell on the prince. Other than his perusal this morning, nothing had changed. For a moment there, you had thought that he finally saw you as you saw him, but whatever you thought you saw was gone just as quick as it had come.
Did he hate the look of the dress? Your face? You had applied rouge to your cheeks and lips, keeping your hair simple. Ingrid had assured you that you looked ‘good enough to eat’, and yet… Your shoulders sagged as a stifling sadness fell over you.
What if it wasn’t a matter of getting him to notice you? What if he already did and simply…did not feel the same way? The thought of Loki never returning your affections because you did not appeal to him made your heart hurt, and you blinked back tears just as the prince beckoned you over for more water.
As you refilled his glass, you felt the odd sensation of being watched. Against your better judgement, you glanced over only for your gaze to connect with that of the king’s. You quickly looked away, topping off Loki’s drink just as the blond spoke.
“Brother, you do not think to introduce your servant to her king?”
You frowned in confusion, and so did the prince as you both looked to Thor. His blue eyes were on you still as a secretive smile graced his lips. You tilted your head at him.
“As many years as Y/N has served me now, you’ve never thought to formally introduce yourself,” Loki told him, frown deepening.
A spark of recognition flitted through the king’s eyes as he gazed at you, and a chuckle left him.
“That would explain why she’s looking as if I’d asked her why the sky is green,” he jested.
As he pointed that out, you worked to even out your face. You nodded at him before dismissively turning to Loki.
“Will that be all?”
“Yes. Stay close though. I have a feeling Thor will drag this meeting far beyond what’s necessary,” he complained.
You nodded at him, eyes lingering as you hovered for a moment before your feet reluctantly moved you back to the wall. Loki offered his input throughout the meeting, but it seemed that the king never liked whatever the prince had to say. You could see him growing more taut by the minute, and you longed to place your hands on his shoulders, easing his tension.
You wondered if this was all you’d ever be to him. A servant. The possibility of that seemed to be growing by the minute, and you started to feel so silly for thinking you could ever be anything more. You considered being bolder, possibly even just confessing to him, but you didn’t want to think about the humiliation if he rejected you.
Or worse.
What if he was so affronted that he dismissed you for good? You couldn’t truly imagine such a thing happening, but your mind was running wild with the possibilities. When you came back to the scene before you, Loki was rising, voice clipped.
He was angry, you realized, and you frowned. You took a small step forward as you eyed him, hating the way his face was twisted. He seemed to be scolding his brother, and when you looked to the king, you found his blue gaze already on you. Your frown deepened, and you hurriedly looked away just as Loki pulled away from the table, waving you along.
Without a second glance to the king, you hurried to follow him. He was grumbling to himself when you caught up to him, running a hand through his hair.
“What is my purpose of being there if he isn’t going to listen to a word I say?” he wondered.
“My prince, you know that your brother has always done what he wants to do,” you softly told him.
He slowed to a stop, shoulders heaving as he sighed. You reached for him before thinking better of it, pulling your hand back.
“You are right, but it does not mean I have to like it.”
You hated to see him so bothered, and you stepped closer.
“Would you like something to eat from the…?”
You swallowed the rest of your words as heavy footsteps approached, and you both turned to watch as the king neared. You took a few steps back to stand behind the prince, quietly acknowledging Thor. Your eyes landed on Loki again as his frown deepened at the sight of his brother.
“Loki, the meeting was far from over, and there is still much for us to discuss,” Thor boomed, a frown of his own covering his features.
The dark-haired man heaved a sigh.
“I’d hardly call it a discussion, brother if you aren’t actually listening to a word I say,” he complained.
Thor opened his mouth to say something when his eyes caught yours. He appeared to think better of it, blue eyes quickly running over you just as Loki turned to look at you as well. You frowned at the king’s perusal.
“Fetch something from the kitchens for us, and then bring it to my chambers,” he softly ordered, rolling his eyes.
You bit back a smile at his evident irritation with the king before nodding.
“Right away, my prince.”
As you walked past the king, you felt something catch along the fabric of your dress. You turned with a slight frown, but both the king and the prince were already walking away. You blinked, writing it off as you made your way to the kitchens.
It took you no time to put a platter together, grabbing some ale. When you returned to the prince’s chambers, he and Thor appeared to be locked in a stalemate. You set the tray down between them, filling their goblets as they glared at each other. You felt a bit awkward, so you touched Loki’s shoulder.
“My prince…”
He blinked, finally looking away from Thor before reaching for the platter with an angry huff.
“Thank you, Lady Y/N,” Thor said.
You sent him a quick smile in return, barely sparing him a glance before turning your attention back to Loki. His green eyes found yours, and they softened.
“Thank you, Y/N. You’re dismissed for the rest of the day. Thor and I have much to discuss indeed it seems,” he murmured.
You bit your lip, and you could feel the king’s gaze searing into the side of your face.
“If you’re sure. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”
He shook his head, and reluctantly, you stepped away. With a quiet sigh, you left his chambers without a farewell to the king.
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The days that followed were…odd, to say the least. The king seemed to be around Loki a lot more, and by default, that meant he was around you more as well. You didn’t know how to feel about it, but you didn’t think you liked it. Not only was his presence upsetting the prince more than usual, and therefore upsetting you, but the king tended to stare a lot.
Having always been strictly a servant for the prince, you hardly interacted with Thor, but the few times that you did, you didn’t remember this being a part of his behavior. His ever-watchful eye unnerved you, and you soon started to wonder if he knew how you felt about the prince. You prayed not, because he didn’t strike you as the type to keep it to himself.
Unable to hold your tongue regarding his hard to ignore presence, you brought it up to the prince one night.
“It’s all rather tedious,” he sighed. “It’s nothing that I believe truly requires my input. That’s excluding his grand idea of me finding a wife.”
Your chin had been resting on the tub, fingers running along the smooth surface, when he spoke. You froze, feeling as if someone had taken a knife to you as you slowly lifted your gaze, eyes landing on him. He was leaning back with his eyes closed, the perfect picture of relaxation, a contrast to you at the moment.
“…what?”
Your voice was small, but the worry must have been evident, nonetheless. Loki chuckled.
“Do not fret,” he told you, finally opening his eyes. “No strange woman will be coming here to demand things of you anytime soon. I’m merely humoring him. Although, I will admit that he does seem to be rather persistent upon the idea.”
He moved to rise, and you looked away.
“It’s preposterous if you ask me. He suggests I began looking for a wife when he has yet to find a queen?”
You didn’t laugh along with him, knowing that the king had a rather annoying habit of getting whatever he wanted. The rest of the night was spent in silence as you helped Loki prepare for bed. If he noticed your strange behavior, then he did not comment on it, and for that you were grateful.
After quickly leaving his chambers, you found yourself amongst the rose bushes in the garden. Your shoulders shook as tears kissed your eyes, chest clenching at the thought of the prince binding himself to someone else forever.
A part of you had always known that this day would come, but you had never wanted to acknowledge it. You had hoped that something would happen before then. Of course, how could you expect that to come true when all you did was stare after him like some lovesick fool? A tear skipped down your cheek, and you hurriedly wiped it away just as you heard footsteps.
You thought nothing of it, knowing that many people ventured into the gardens throughout all hours of the day. However, when the footsteps stopped behind you, you had no choice but to turn. Surprise and confusion filled you as your eyes landed on none other than the king. Unlike before, you couldn’t get away with ignoring his presence.
“My king,” you greeted, standing.
You worked to school your features as he looked over you, a crooked smile on his lips.
“It is rather late for you to be frolicking about all by your lonesome, is it not?”
You frowned at his tone but brushed it off.
“I just wanted some solace and fresh air to think,” you told him.
He hummed, and you moved to leave.
“Goodnight, my king.”
He stopped you, and you looked to him with a small frown.
“It is late and dark. Allow me to walk you back to your chambers,” he offered.
You shook your head.
“I appreciate the offer, my king, but there’s no need. I’ve walked these dark halls alone many times before,” you replied.
You went to step around him, but again, he was there. You swallowed down your annoyance, biting your cheek.
“I’d feel much better if you allowed me to. I’d rest easy knowing you made it back safe.”
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you nodded, choosing to pick your battles with the almighty Thor. He rested his hand on your back as he walked you out of the garden, and you stepped out of his reach. The walk back to your room was filled with silence, but you were not bothered. Your mind was too crowded with thoughts of Loki.
He said that he was only entertaining Thor, having no intentions of taking a wife anytime soon, but that could easily change. The king had a way of getting what he wanted one way or another, and for some reason, he wished for his brother to be married. Your frown deepened.
“I’m sorry for my odd behavior at the meeting the other day. You did not look as I was used to seeing you,” the king said after a while with a small chuckle.
“It’s quite alright,” you sighed.
There was a brief silence before he spoke again.
“I do hope everything is alright. You appeared rather upset in the gardens…”
You shook your head, somewhat annoyed at his uncharacteristic behavior. You had never known Thor to be so observant of another unless it affected him. The only time you’d notice him pay so much attention to a woman was when…
Your lips parted, and you looked away as realization hit you. Your eyes slowly looked to him, and you found his attentive gaze already on you. You pursed your lips, annoyance filling you.
“If it appeared that way then I apologize. It wasn’t my intention. I merely have a lot on my mind,” you told him, voice clipped.
“Such as?”
“Nothing of importance.”
Your tone left no room for questioning, and you heard him huff. Relief filled you when your door came into view, and you bowed to him with a quiet ‘thank you’ before walking away. You felt him grab your arm, gently, but it still startled you, nonetheless.
You looked to him with wide eyes, brows furrowed. He stepped closer, and if it weren’t for his hold, you would have stepped back. His gaze was intense, sparkling with something you had seen all too often, and disgust filled you.
“If my brother is mistreating you in any way, you are always more than welcome to serve me instead,” he quietly said, voice thick.
Your frown deepened, and you pulled your arm away before stepping back, watching as his face fell.
“Why would the prince be mistreating me? He has never been anything but good to me.”
He cleared his throat.
“I just worry that your behavior might have something to do with him-.”
“As kind as that is, it is not necessary. As I said, I merely had a lot on my mind. The prince could never put me into a foul mood. Goodnight, my king.”
You swiftly entered your room before he could reply, and you placed your ear to the door. He seemed to stand there for a while before finally leaving with a huff. You only sighed in relief when he was gone, quickly ridding yourself of your dress.
You quickly slipped into one of the night shifts Ingrid had lent you, feeling naked in the flimsy fabric. You felt like you were crossing a line, but you couldn’t allow the king to get his way and have Loki married. The night air felt even cooler as you stepped out of your room.
You felt scandalous, but so many of the other women had done what you were currently doing a thousand times before. There was no need to feel ashamed or weird about it. Still, if anyone caught you, you’d have to come up with something.
The walk to the prince’s wing felt long. It wasn’t late enough for him to be asleep, that much you knew. He usually had his nose buried in a book at this time. You slowed when you got to his door, heart surprisingly steady in your chest. With a deep breath, you smoothed the fabric before knocking on his door. You could hear his footsteps approaching, but with a frown, you realized that his weren’t the only ones you heard.
You looked over your shoulder just in time to see the king approach, his wide eyes taking you in. Your own widened just as the door opened behind you, and you felt your body grow cold at the predicament you found yourself in.
“Y/N?”
You spun around, facing Loki as confusion filled his features. He ran his eyes over you, a myriad of emotions swirling in their depths just before he finally noticed his brother.
“Thor. What is the meaning of this?”
Your mind whirled, and you blinked.
“I…believe that I must have been sleepwalking, my prince. I’m so sorry-.”
“Nonsense. Here, the nights are colder these days,” he said, taking off the robe he was wearing before covering your shoulders with it. “What are you doing here, Thor?”
You too wanted to know the answer to that, and it was hard to keep the irritated frown from your face as you looked to him. His own eyes were on you, and you knew then that he saw through your lie. He cleared his throat.
“I came to discuss something with you, brother,” he said.
Loki let out an exasperated sigh.
“Well, surely it can wait until the morning. I must walk Y/N back to her chambers to ensure she makes it to bed safely,” he told him.
You smiled at him at him as he pushed you along.
“Thank you,” you told him.
You caught the frown on the king’s face, but you ignored it as Loki rested his hand on your arm.
“You’ve never been known to sleepwalk before,” the prince murmured.
“I know. Well, at least not that I know of. I’m not sure what happened,” you lied.
“Anything could have happened. You could have fallen down the stairs, or one of the unscrupulous characters who roam these halls could have happened upon you.”
You sent him an appreciative smile. His hand was warm on your arm, and you inhaled, breathing in the comforting scent of him. You basked in his presence, but all too soon, you reached your door. You took off his robe, handing it back to him, but when he grabbed it, you didn’t let go.
A frown was on his face as you tugged on the fabric, pulling him closer. You blinked at him, smile widening as hope filled your eyes, unable to miss the way he ran his eyes over you.
“Stay,” you finally whispered.
His eyes widened, face falling as you made your intentions clear. Realization bled into his gaze.
“You were not sleepwalking…were you?”
Reluctantly, you shook your head. He heaved a sigh, and your face fell.
“Y/N…you are my servant. A good one. I cannot use my authority to-.”
“Why not? The king does it all the time-.”
“I am not Thor! I refuse to be,” he said, and your lips trembled. “I will not take advantage of you.”
You grabbed his shirt, pushing yourself against him. You watched his throat bob, a look in his eyes that you had always prayed to see.
“I want you to,” you quietly said, hurrying to continue when you noticed that he was about to protest. “My prince, I would do anything for you. I would give you anything you asked of me.”
He exhaled, and it was shaky, and you smiled. He hesitantly leaned in, and your nose brushed against his. He whispered your name so softly, the sound going straight to your heart…and stomach.
He kissed you, and you moaned against his lips. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and one of his hands pressed into the wall, the other going to your waist. Your heart soared, and you felt like you were floating as he moved his mouth against yours.
“Take me,” you breathed into his mouth.
He froze, and you could have cried. Your heart sank as he pulled away, his chest heaving, and lips swollen and red. He smoothed down the fabric of your night dress.
“I…am giving you the day off tomorrow,” he murmured, and you frowned.
“What?”
Panic filled you, but he hurried to ease it.
“Do not fret. I merely have much to think about and…I cannot do so properly when you tempt me so.”
Embarrassment filled you, and you looked away as a deep chuckle escaped him.
“Things are starting to make sense, and I’m realizing that you have been tempting me for days,” he whispered.
“I would do it again,” you said, kissing him.
He hummed into the kiss before pulling away and opening your door. He gently pushed you inside, green eyes sparkling in a way you’d never seen before.
“Sleep well for I shall not abandon you.”
You smiled at him, biting your lip as he turned to leave.
“Loki…”
He paused at the use of his name, looking over his shoulder. You sighed, lashes fluttering.
“I love you.”
He blinked at your confession, lips parting. He took a step towards you and kissed you one last time. You watched him walk away, and when you closed your door, you slid down to the floor, the happiest you’d ever been.
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Your happiness only increased the next morning when you noticed a folded slip of parchment that had been slid underneath your door. When you opened it, Loki’s handwriting greeted you, and your eyes widened as they skimmed over each line.
He wanted to meet you tonight in the master chamber of the abandoned wing. You briefly wondered why there, but his next few words informed you that Thor’s presence had been rather persistent lately, something you too had noticed, and he did not wish to be interrupted.
You spent your entire day off in a daze, wondering what tonight would entail. You remembered everything that Ingrid had told you, even some of the things that had made you squirm, and there was a very high chance that you would be doing those things tonight.
When the night finally came, you felt your nerves increase like no other. It was late, and the corridors were empty, bare feet walking on the cool floor. You wore nothing underneath the robe, body bare and clean from your bath earlier. You weren’t afraid. You trusted the prince more than you trusted anyone else in the world.
The room was empty when you entered it, but light was cast onto your features from the candles placed around the room. The bed was made, but you wasted no time in turning it back, robe slipping from you, a whisper of fabric in the quiet room. It fell to your feet, and you slid into the bed, pulling the sheet to your chest as you waited for Loki.
You didn’t wait long, and you sat up when you heard footsteps approaching. A soft smile danced along your lips, excitement filling you as Loki approached. You watched as the handle turned, but when the door creaked open, it was not his form that filled the entryway.
Your heart dropped to your stomach, a frown taking over as confusion and fear and anger filled you. Thor’s eyes met yours, and you felt your breath pick up, chest heaving as he shut the door behind him. Your lips were parted, at a loss for words as you fought to voice your thoughts.
“Well…this is a first,” his deep voice hummed. “A woman has never been disappointed to see me before.”
“…wh-what? What is the meaning of this? Where is Loki?”
He did not answer you right away, and your frozen frame finally moved as he took a step forward. You hurried off of the bed, clutching the sheet to you as you reached for your robe.
“I see the way you watch him. Such devotion in your eyes,” he murmured, almost in awe. “What man would not envy such loyalty from a woman such as yourself?”
You froze again, jaw clenching and fingers tightening as the truth hit you.
“You tricked me,” you quietly spat, glaring at him.
You didn’t bother to school your tone, king or no king. You were disgusted with him. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse in his features, and your anger grew.
“How else was I to get you alone? Your eyes only ever see my brother,” he said.
“So you take it upon yourself to use deception to get me alone with you? Because that’s the only way I’d ever do so.”
His own jaw ticked, and he narrowed his eyes.
“You practically fall on your face to get away from me, but him you throw yourself at like a common whore,” he sneered, finally exposing himself.
You surmised that he saw you and the prince last night, and your stomach turned. You took no offense to his statement for it was true. You’d do anything for Loki.
“It’s okay for women to act that way as long as its for you,” you said. “I would do anything for the prince…and you can’t stand it.”
You shook your head at him, watching his face twist into anger.
“You’re like a child,” you said in disbelief. “You get anything and anyone you want, and still, you know no satisfaction.”
“You will watch how you speak to me,” he ordered, taking another step forward.
“You have tricked me! And for what? Because I want your brother and not you? You’re despicable,” you threw at him.
“One more word of disrespect, and I shall have your tongue,” he threatened.
“The prince would never allow such a thing to happen,” you smugly replied.
He straightened, and he knew it was true. You threw the robe around you, only allowing the sheet to fall once it was secured.
“You do not spare me a glance,” he finally said. “It is as if I am not there.”
You snorted.
“What does it matter? I have always shown you the proper respect, my king, but you are angered because I’d rather fall at the prince’s feet than yours? There are lines of women in this kingdom ready to do your bidding. Leave Loki and I be,” you snapped, flurrying past him.
He stopped you, and you sharply inhaled.
“Surely you could be just as happy giving me what you so desire to give him.”
You frowned, offended. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Thor was hurt by your rejection. You shook your head at him, disbelief coloring your tone.
“You do not understand. I love the prince.”
You watched his fall, lips pressing together as he registered your confession.
“My loyalty and devotion to him is because of my love for him. I am in love with Loki. Do you get it now?”
He took a step back, letting go of you as he blinked, realizing that this was no matter of fleeting lust.
“That look that you envy so much is love, not desire. It angers you so because you have never known it,” you told him.
He glared at you, and you returned the look. You watched as he picked at a piece of lint on your robe, lip curling over his teeth.
“Then I will simply have to make you love me as well.”
He yanked you towards him, and you yelped, kicking at him. He pressed his mouth to yours, forcing a kiss on your lips, and you pushed your hands against his chest. He tore at the robe that covered you, and fear gripped you, a scream bubbling in your throat, but he swallowed it down.
You had always thought that Thor was too much, a list of things falling under the vague statement, and too strong was quickly added to it. He had you naked before him in no time, and you bounced against the bed as he threw you onto it. He fell over you, hands pinning your wrists down as he took his fill of you, eyes tracing every curve of your body.
“There is a part of me that regrets taking you away from my brother, especially like this, but the part of me that wants you all for myself already won.”
He kissed you again, and you only started to cry when you felt him moving to release himself. You had been prepared to ruin your reputation for the prince, risking the fate of marrying a second son or marrying no one at all. You loved him, but you would never risk such a thing for the king. Yet here he was, taking that choice away from you.
You screamed for Loki, desperate and afraid, but Thor’s lips covered yours once more, swallowing your cries. His beard tickled your skin, and his blond locks brushed over your face. You could feel the tip of him brush against you, and you trembled beneath him. He ignored your cries and your please, pushing into you so swiftly that the pain didn’t even register until moments later.
You yelped into his mouth, and he moaned into yours, trembling at the feel of you wrapped around him. Tears spilled from your eyes, anger and sadness paralyzing you. The king was in heaven…while you were in hell.
“Loki,” you sadly murmured, chest hurting at the thought of never being with him.
This angered Thor, and he snarled just before pulling his hips back and snapping them against you. You gasped in pain, nails digging into his arms as more tears ran down your face. His lips kissed at your cheek and neck as he thrust into you, low moans leaving him.
You turned your head away, anger increasing at the extent of Thor’s selfish nature. You hit at him, slapping his shoulders and face, curses flying from your lips. He quickly grew tired of your antics and grabbed your wrists, slamming them down beside your head. You sobbed in frustration.
His heavy breathing filled your ears as he slammed into you, every thrust making your heart clench in pain. You struggled to get your arms out of his harsh hold, but he only tightened them. You knew they would be sore in the morning.
Against your will, your core grew slick under his ministrations, the sound of his assault reaching your ears, making you cringe. He tried to kiss you, but you kept moving your head, refusing to give him what he wanted.
“You shall grow to love me as well,” he murmured.
You shook your head, and he pressed his lips to your jaw, groaning against your skin.
“I wish for you to show me the same devotion that you give to my brother.”
His thrusts grew slow, gradually pushing into your slick walls until you were forced to feel every vein and ridge of him. He moaned, a low sound from deep within his throat. You felt him shudder, and you did as well as warmth filled you, his cum slowly leaking out around his cock. He softened, but barely so, and fresh tears spilled.
He forced another kiss on you, grinding his hips into yours as he fucked his cum into you, the wet sound reaching your ears.
“I can give you the world too,” he groaned into your mouth. “I shall not rest until you look at me like you look at him.”
~
tags: @mcudarklibrary​ @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​ @harryspet​ @readermia​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @nickyl316h​ @captainchrisstan​ @sebabestianstan101​ @villanellevi​ @lokislastlove​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @coconutqueen21​ @hurricanerin​
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obeymeluv · 4 years
Text
You Steal the Boys’ Clothes
Something I’ve been thinking of for a while.
Lucifer
It was rare the eldest was without his cape, as everything seemed to be a formal event and he must be dressed to impress. Being dressed to impress, however, means being clean so he gets it cleaned from time to time
Lucifer is a very organized, practical man. Constantly towing the line of obsessive for the sake of orderliness.
He knows where his cape should be, and that it’s not there
With a demon’s-only screech that warns Mammon to stretch his calves and run, Lucifer hunts down the three most likely suspects to interrogate them (Mammon, Satan, and Belphegor).
He tries to get a two-for-one by dragging Mammon into the study where Satan sits smugly with a book (because he knows he didn’t do it but MAN is he enjoying this!)
Imagine surprising not one, but THREE demons when you come shuffling down the hall with a Lucifer’s cape wrapped around you like a blanket.
It whispers and it drags and it absolutely DROWNS you.
Very charming. Ethereal, almost like some sort of wedding wear
Lucifer would’ve never imagined you’d be the culprit, and now his poor brain is trying to save and process the idea of you looking so sleepy-happy in his clothes
And the ex-angel falls all over again.
He catches the little cheek nuzzle and way you bunch it around your body, a foot poking out not to get tangled
Satan and Mammon will probably die laughing instead of at his hands, but Lucifer could really care less
Lucifer idly wonders where you’d curled up that he totally missed you, and escorts you gently but red-faced to your room
Satan and Mammon tag along, and when they see Lucifer come out with his cape they can only deduce he put you to bed.
Mammon
With no homework to do and some money in the bank, Mammon was ready to spend the weekend tearing up the town with you!
He was fresh out of the shower and mostly dressed, searching feverishly for his beloved white and brown jacket
Mammon wasn’t the cleanest person by nature (hello, money hoarder and collector of interesting/valuable things) so he tidied up as he went
As he started to suspect one of his little brothers was holding the jacket for ransom, he sent out a group text asking about it
There were several typical smart-ass responses (Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan) and he was in the middle of a snark fight when you showed up at his door somewhere between bashful and chill
In HIS jacket
Mammon’s brain shuts down.
HIS baby in HIS jacket? HELL YEAH! OH GOD, IT’S TOO PERFECT!
FIEND, TAKING HIS HEART!
“It’s kind of a human thing,” you explain. “There is a one-jacket fee among couples. Usually it’s a hoodie.” you tease, reluctant to shrug it off, “But this seems to be your only jacket so I guess I could give it back.”
It’s very subtle, but he’s worn that jacket for centuries and no amount of detergent can disguise the scent that makes his heart skip a beat
Something about the smell of your skin and a hint of his has him purring
You hold the jacket out to him. Mammon wraps his fingers around it and swings it around until he’s holding it over one shoulder
The yellow takes over in his eyes a little more. Gets a little brighter and intense.
“You want to take anything else off?” he husks playfully
Your day out turns into staying in and Mammon is happy to trade his jacket for a shirt you can sleep in (like, forever. It’s fine. Whatever, dummy.)
Leviathan
It was actually really hard to steal Levi’s clothes because he lived in his hoodie and turtleneck. His RAD uniform was really just for show and that wasn’t what you were looking for, anyways. You didn’t want to chill in uniform.
He was very particular about his merch because certain shirts were collector’s items and he didn’t like people messing with his folding patterns
You went to Asmo with your dilemma and he found it absolutely ADORABLE. It was almost enough to make him jealous, really
Somehow (Asmo being Asmo?), the fifth- born was able to swipe one of the green button-ups Levi wore under his RAD uniform
His first thought was to alter the garment to make it fit you (matching outfits? YES!) but Levi would probably kill him. His big bro hated shopping for clothes unless he HAD to have them.
Asmo gets the bright idea to magically/temporarily alter the fabric to fit you. Maybe Levi will like it so much he’ll just give you a shirt! 💖 (Or get some fucking outside time and go buy more shirts!)
Levi catches his own scent somewhere outside of the door and his brain goes off. He hits the pause button at lightning speed.
No one else smells like him! They haven’t shared bath products in centuries! He already finished his laundry so what’s happening?!
His first thought is: Mammon broke into my room while I was in the bathroom and stole something to pawn!
Levi doesn’t even think to take inventory of his stuff, barging out of his room to hunt down his big brother
He’s yelling and whining before he even sees him. Then he sees you. In his shirt.
All the angry words die in his throat as the absolute mortification and adoration sets his face on fire
SO KAWAII! It basically makes up for your normie-ness.
Levi’s stuck standing there, blushing his head off and unable to say anything as his fists shake with joy and nervousness
He gets a nosebleed. One of his brothers are laughing at him.
You guide him back to his room to take care of him, Levi lets you and becomes very fascinated with the idea of you in his clothes .Lots of petting and figuring out you look DOUBLY MEGA CUTE when the magic wears off and you’re just in a pool of fabric.
He’s totally down for matching clothes and definitely lets you keep the one you’re wearing.
Satan
His wardrobe is very...interesting...to say the least
Colors and personal combinations aside, Satan actually has a very smart wardrobe. Lots of basics and easy layers.
You can’t steal his signature green sweater or the blazer he seems to live in, so you settle for an emerald knit sweater that has a bit of a v-neck/university feel to it
It takes Satan a while to notice, as he’s buried in a book. You two tend to gravitate towards each other and just enjoy a cozy, companionable silence
He’s just finished a book and is debating cracking open one from the stack to his left when the color catches his eye
The smooth, sly comment dies on his lips when he realizes he likes the damn thing because IT’S HIS
You look very cozy and warm. It’s a very ‘cuddle me’ kind of look.
Perhaps you could warm his lap? Or give his poor hands a rest under the hem?
Very cheeky and clever. Grabs you by the sleeve of it just to ‘answer his curiosity about whether it matched his nails’.
Does he have a cute university student kink? If he didn’t, he does now?
There’s a 50-50 chance of you guys having sex.
Will definitely want to hold you and cuddle you close, petting the fabric and whispering compliments into it.
If you don’t already have a business/academic attire, Satan will definitely suggest a few pieces because YES. This is a thing he loves and it DOES things to him.
Asmodeus
He’s the type to let you think you stole something
Probably stages what he wants you to steal just so you take it
Honestly, I could just see him dumping some of his clothes on you because you’re dating now and this is a cute thing he read about!
It’s super likely he’s into couple outfits or coordinating outfits, so he’s either spent time in his closet pre-planning or asked you to try on a million things just because
This cutie pie purposely orders THE BIGGEST thing he can find so you can both fit in it at the same time
Asmo loves you to pieces no matter what, but seeing you in his clothes makes him squeal and hit a note Mammon has threatened to murder him over
Ever dramatic, this is like, THE BEST THING EVER
A MILLION Devilgram posts about it (safe ones, of course)
Do you guys spark a couple’s trend and spade of lover’s stealing each other’s clothes to snap a victory pic? Maybe
Probably fake faints at the sheer glory of you in HIS bomb ass clothes. Definitely fans himself
Spoils you rotten with compliments
This man is weak. “Gorgeous! Smother me.” as he falls back on the bed and gestures to his face
He won’t turn down the idea of sexy times (depends on your libido, comfort, etc.) but sometimes he makes raunchy jokes just to be funny. Smothering could also mean using him like a body pillow (which he’s totally okay with).
You get max cuddles and WILL be the envy of Devilgram
Beelzebub
Beel felt a little guilty for leaving you at the House of Lamentation with his brothers
You guys were supposed to hang out after school but there was an emergency practice. The coach always got pre-game jitters and demanded a few last runs. He showered and ran back to the House, hoping you still had time for him.
He tiptoed quietly into his shared room, unsurprised to find you waiting there for him. You’d been caught in Belphie’s sleepy little aura by the looks of it,
Beelzebub couldn’t help the grin or little hum that made it past his lips. Your eyes were open but he didn’t know if you actually saw him. You looked super cute in his humongous bed though
You were getting sleepier and sleepier, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Beel pulled the sheets over you and gentle untangled the arm you managed to latch on to
Maybe waking up to a bit of food would make up for everything! Beel toiled away in the kitchen, making a cute little snack tray for the two of you.
In reality, it could probably feed at least twenty, and he ate at least half of what he prepped.
Beel returned to the room with what he considered a decent amount (scraps, kind of, but enough variety! He tried! It’s the thought that counts!) and was surprised to see his sheets all tangled and half-kicked from the bed
You were wearing his jacket now, passed out and turned into the furry lining that usually went across his shoulders and neck
DId you sleep walk? He was trying to understand how you’d gotten into his jacket
Beel realized it was the first time you’d been in his clothes and it was enough to make his heart melt
Super huge on you, obviously (extra fabric everywhere), but so cute! He could basically swaddle you in his jacket
“They’re a restless sleeper,” Belphie yawned. “I thought it would help them calm down.”
It used to work on Belphie, so Beel could see why he resorted to it
Beel offered his twin some food, sitting carefully on your other side.
He shifted some of the parka fur away from your face, trying to fix your hair and nudge your chin up so your nose wasn’t buried in anything. He stroked your cheek a little, mesmerized by the sight of you and how you felt.
Belphie declined, muttering something about, ‘Stop looking like that and eat your food! Gross!’ before Beel settled for patting your head one last time and eating quietly
Belphegor
He’s another one that’s hard to steal from
You’d think it’d be easy since he sleeps all the time, but Belphie really only wears 10% of the clothes he buys
Yes, he’s a pajama snob and has all things comfy and cozy, but hardly any of them smell like him because he falls asleep anywhere with little issue (no special clothes required!)
You thought about stealing his blue cardigan with the pocket, but he’s always sleeping in it!
Belphie picks up on your train of thought, and the frustration, because you fall asleep thinking about it. Dreaming about coyly stealing his cardigan and being all cute and snuggly in bed
It’s enough to wake him up, shuffle to you, and break your sleep. He flops down on your bed with his cardigan unbuttoned and says ‘climb on’ while patting his chest
You’re obviously sleepy and confused and he loves it. Belphie slides you onto his chest and wraps his arms around you, resting bits of the fabric on your back as you settle into him
It’s not the same but it’s close enough
Would you be offended if he got you cow pajamas so he could snuggle you like his favorite pillow? He falls asleep wondering about the answer
He wakes up to see that Beel has covered the two of you with his favorite blanket.
You in his blanket? Against him? Slowly smelling of him and his clothes? It’s the best thing to fall asleep to.
Makes a joke out of your clothes-stealing quest by stripping one of his pillowcases off and putting you in it like a little sack. You have to stay on his bed now because you’re his pillow and all pillows stay on the bed.
“What? You wanted to smell like me! It’s something I use!“ Belphie defends as you wonder whether or not you like this human pillow thing while he snuggles you.
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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years
Text
Day 24, Post #2 by @cheesyficwriter
Title: More Like Family
Author: cheesyficwriter
Pairing: Ron/Harry brotp
Prompt: Brother from another mother
Rating: T
Trigger Warnings: None
More Like Family
The blistering heat of the summer scorches my pale skin, drenching the jet black fringe stuck to the ever-present scar on my forehead. My glasses slip to the tip of my nose from the droplets of sweat invading my skin, and I fight to keep them in the proper position. 
The verdant hills just beyond the Burrow shine like emeralds, matching the clear, blue sky. It’s one of those rare, perfect days. Summer is not my favorite season, but moments like these are my favorite. 
I lay down in the cool, overgrown grass and close my eyes. I've never been more relaxed than I am right now, in the only place I can call home outside of Hogwarts. 
Meeting Ron on the train to school for the first time provided me with a family I didn’t have the opportunity to grow up with. We clicked straight away, and Ron soon became the one constant in my life, along with Hermione, that I could count on. 
I spent most of my first eleven years alone, with no one to talk to who cared. Before I knew it, Ron came along, and I had someone to share my secrets with. I had someone who provided me with a breadth of wizarding knowledge when I had none. 
We were just kids, heading on the train to Hogwarts, unaware of what was ahead for us. Our innocent bond was formed simply from us being in the right place at the right time, having nowhere else to sit but in a tiny compartment with each other.  
Our friendship was pretty much unspoken after that initial meeting, and I never had to ask Ron twice, or once even, to join me on the many spontaneous adventures that followed. I trust him more than anyone to always have my back 一 to support me and my wildest ideas without judgment.
We’ve endured many hardships together, but I can’t, nor want, to imagine going through all this shit without him. 
My thoughts are interrupted when I feel little droplets of cold water sprinkling over my body and the burn of the sun disappearing as if there is a silhouette hovering over my face. Squinting one eye open, I find said ginger-haired best friend peering down at me with a mischievous smirk.  
That annoying twat. 
“Enjoying a kip, sunshine?” Ron teases, and I swat him away with a kick of my foot. 
The sodding git chuckles before plopping down in the grass next to me. I sit up and fold my elbows over my knees. From this view, I can see and hear Hermione and Ginny squealing as they take turns splashing each other in the swimming hole.  
We have only one week left until we head back to Hogwarts for our sixth year, and my stomach churns with uncertainty over the future. 
As if Ron can read my mind, he fills the silence. “You nervous about going back?”
I attempt to swallow the dry lump in my throat. Some of the worst moments of my life happened at the end of fifth year, and it wasn’t easy to think about trying to go on with life while he is still out there. 
"I think this school year will look a little different." 
Ron scoffs. "Do you ever think there will be a time that we're not fighting for our lives?" 
I bump my shoulder with Ron’s. "What? This isn't how normal teenagers spend their school years?" 
Ron gives me a hearty shove. "You speckle-eyed prat." 
I manage the smallest of smiles before returning my attention to the girls, who are now floating on their backs in the shallow pool. 
"By the way, whatever you're planning, I have no qualms about going against the rules.” Ron takes a deep breath. “Just 一 don’t try to do it all by yourself, mate.”
“I wasn't-"
My rebuttal is thwarted by the pointed look Ron sends my way. 
"I'll try," I offer instead. 
"You know I'm always right by your side, no questions asked, right?" Ron insists. 
Don't have to ask him once. 
I manage a small nod of appreciation, and he mirrors my stance, a wave of mutual understanding flowing between us. 
We bump knuckles together, a symbol of brotherhood that solidifies the deep-rooted respect and admiration we have for each other. 
A strangled noise comes out of Ron's mouth, and I follow his gaze towards Hermione, who emerges from the water in search of her towel. 
"What are you looking at?" I probe, my eyebrows raising with amusement.  
Before Ron can respond, my eyes land on Ginny, and I feel my cheeks grow hot as I get a glimpse of her deep blue two-piece swimsuit. I break my stare in haste, finding Ron's eyes narrowing as he glances back and forth between me and Ginny. 
"What are you looking at?" 
“N-nothing.” I’m quick to reply, hoping that he didn't just catch me checking out 一 is that really what I should call it? 一 his little sister.  
Lucky for me, Ron seems to not notice, or care, about my flustered state as he's too busy tracking Hermione as she skips towards us up the hill, followed by Ginny. 
I decide to save Ron from embarrassment if he were to be caught gawking, so I shove him down into the grass before leaping to my feet and taking off down the hill. 
"First one to the bottom gets dibs on your mum's cooking!" 
I high five Ginny as I run past the girls, a spark of electricity bursting at the tip of my fingertips.
"Oh, you're on, Potter!" I hear Ron's boisterous laughter from close behind me, and I know his long, lanky legs will soon catch up.
For a brief few hours, we are just teenagers, living a normal life, stealing away the last fleeting moments of summer. The best times are the little moments in between like this, where we’re doing hardly anything at all. 
True best friends don't come around every day, and my best friend feels more like family.
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katsukikitten · 4 years
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Part 5
For once in your life, your eyes slowly open, only having been disturbed by warm morning sunlight. The soft comforter trapping your body heat and essentially you, as it pinned you to the soft mattress. You snuggle deeper into the sheets, breathing in the smell of clean linen and caramel.
Wait. Caramel?
With a jolt you jump from the bed, eyes wide as you look for the source of the scent. Patting down your jeans and shirt for at least one knife. You hardly remember what happened after dinner with his family. You remember booze, light conversation while feeling warm and floaty. Oh shit what was that passive that activated again? Rest assured?
"Info on rest assured." You grumble, voice soft from disuse. Your quirk happily pulls up a little informational box that you can see. Too sleepy to make the box private as it reads aloud to you.
"PASSIVE BUFF REST ASSURED. A newly unlocked buff that increases sleep quality and can only be activated around trusted individuals and safe places. Would you like a list?"
You stare at the question box with a flashing yes or no before you point with the tip of your knife to yes.
"Currently there is only one thing listed. Type : Individual Name: Bakugou Ka…."
"Oi." Someone calls from the front door of the apartment as you dismiss the information with a wave of your hand. He discards his boots at the door before making his way to his bedroom.
"You talking to yourself dumbass?" He says, blocking your only exit by leaning on the door jamb. He holds an iced coffee towards you, his eyes sharp as he adds.
"We need to talk about your file."
Crossing his arms you ignore his offer of iced appeasement, he sets it on the low dresser as you speak.
"It's not up for discussion."
"I'm your boss, I deserve to know."
"What you deserve to know is what's in that file. My whole life doesn't fit into a manila fucking folder. Quit asking questions."
"I'll ask what I want." He growls, "Because it's suspicious that you have this unbelievably complex quirk and yet I'm sure your top skills have nothing to do with stealing."
"If you're that concerned then ask the director of the program. I'm not the only secret 'reform'." You throw your hands into the air is exasperation
"He showed up dead shortly after you were inducted. Plus no one has any real record of what you've done. Not a single thing listed on what you've stolen."
"Talk to Deku then, he's next in line for that program, he ain't dead."
"He said he doesn't remember approving your file." He bites back and before you can retort strong fingers wrap around your wrist. His calloused pads brush over the cool metal of your bracelet.
"RECOGNIZED, BAKUGOU KATSUKI : NEW LIMITED ACCESS GRANTED. 1. Health and Condition status, upon request 2. Top five skills 3. Buffs that would benefit Bakugou Katuski. 4. Pending buffs to be activated by host. Please state a number."
"Two." "Cancel!" You try to shout over him but he beats you to it. The bracelet opens up a little box displaying your top five skills as of late.
"Stab resistance, poison resistance, what would a thief need those for? Stealth is number three and slight of hand is number five. Shit don't add up Princess." He glares while your nostrils flare, ripping your wrist away from his grip.
"You're really fucking pushing it…" He takes a step towards you while you step back as if it were part of a dance as you try so hard to keep your wrath in check.
"Am I? Like I said, shit ain't adding up. You have this bracelet that still has limited information to your quirk, support knows nothing of the recordings or god damn blocks you've placed on it and lastly…" Your knees hit the back of the back of the bed causing you to sit on the mattress. His rough palms come to lie flat against the fabric next to your thighs as he leans in. You fight to shrink back.
"Lastly, I deserve to know how an unnamed woman, who obviously knew you, turns up dead moments after I arrive on scene and then her body is gone in a matter of minutes. She poisoned you with a complex concoction that the lab in the agency has yet to figure out the formula to it and yet you knew the fucking antidote? What did you really do?"
Rage boils in your blood as you stare into his vermilion eyes. Like flipping a switch you turn ice cold, your breath mingles with his.
PASSIVE BUFF SHARP TONGUE ACTIVATED INSULTS DEALT WILL HAVE 39% MORE STING.
"You know what's funny? You don't see me asking how you became a manager with your shitty attitude. Nor do you see me asking how you manipulated and gaslit your way to the number one spot." You press your cheek against his as your lips graze his ear, "And you sure as hell don't see me asking how you're considered a hero at all after you told Izuku to kill himself in middle school."
The scars in his chest and stomach roar to life, demanding attention as his shirt scrapes against the sensitive skin. He takes a step back as if struck while the room begins to smell of smokey spiced caramel. His bones groan as his knuckles bloom white.
You smile as you stand, collecting your bag and the jacket he lent. Even grabbing the iced coffee he got you. Because why let it go to waste?
Cruelty slips onto your shoulders as nicely as his borrowed jacket while you pause at his bedroom door wanting nothing more than to leave him with terrible thoughts.
"Did you ever even apologize for that?"
Silence is your answer as you chuckle to yourself.
"Didn't think so."
You leave him with those nasty thoughts. Long gone as he still pants, pain shooting through his gut and lungs as it did all those fucking years ago.
As he moved without a second thought and placed himself in front of a stupid, dopey mop top boy who tried to hold up the weight of the world by himself.
With a guttural growl he looks over his destroyed room, as if a bomb went off.
He reaches for his phone dialing the number he never bothered to save.
"Meet me at our usual when you get off your stupid fucking shift. I know you've forgotten to eat you useless hero." The other line chimes in with a deep laugh as he adds.
"Okay Kaachan. I'll be there."
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Izuku doesn't get invited out often and especially not by Bakugou. So the emerald haired boy decides to keep an eye on his oldest friend. Silently watching and not glancing too long as hot head huffs and puffs, taking another shot. The ash blonde's favorite spicy ramen goes untouched as the large man across from him slurps up his fourth bowl, covered in sweat and dirt from the day's work.
"You better get my fucking money's worth of this endless ramen bowl shit." He bites, slamming down another shot, fingers subconsciously finding the old scar on his chest. The action does not go unnoticed by his more docile friend. Izuku thanks the waiter as he starts on his fifth bowl.
"I'm starting to think you're mad about more than the endless ramen you ordered me." Bright emerald meet dark garnet eyes that glare, Bakugou's cheeks burn in his buzz.
"Fuck you. Nothin's wrong." Another deadly shot.
"That's your seventh. Kaachan you can't fool me. Your body language gives it away." Bakugou follows Izuku's eyes to his fingers. Quickly he removes his calloused pads from the divot. Angrily staring at the wall like a child who's been caught.
"Fuck you." He murmurs, silence settles over the pair in the far back corner of the restaurant. Bakugou's eyes glance over to Izuku who continues to eat, crimson bore into the scars on his arms from where the dumbass had broken them time and time again. His scars burn with your words, with the memory of what he's said in the past.
Too cruel and for what?
"You know I'm-" Bakugou starts but Izuku holds up a hand, wanting to spare his friend.
"I know, you've shown me everyday, even before you jumped in front of me, Kaachan. I've always known." He leaves it at that, in his heart he knows that Bakugou is sorry. He's seen it in every action since their first year at UA, he doesn't need to hear him say it.
What good are words when actions spoke louder?
"So what's bothering you? Worried over someone? You're dating Rogue now right?" Izuku asks, holding his chopsticks at a point while Bakugou takes another shot.
"Her file is what's bothering me. Deku, she doesn't have a fucking thing of her past. Not to mention you don't even remember signing off on her. Real responsible." Bakugou watches with a dull snarl as Izuku goes back to slurping his noodles.
"Ka...Kaachan." Izuku chokes, "Not fair. They put a lot of your desk too and I bet you don't remember half of it."
"I'd remember something like that. Just makes it that much more suspicious. Probably foraged by someone but the question is who…." Katsuki sets his head in his hand, staring at his orange broth.
"Well, did you ask her yourself?" Bakugou scoffs in response.
"Yea, and it didn't fucking turn out well." His finger finds his stomach this time, the ghastly white crater suddenly irritated by the fabric of his shirt. Izuku stops eating, he isn't stupid and easily connects the dots. The soft man thinks back a decade of his friend is the worst condition but more worried about him.
"Kaachan…" Deep jade eyes water a bit but Bakugou puts up a hand
"Don't." He barks, sighing.
"So you must really care about her if whatever she said affected you that much. You weren't even bothered when they were trying to 'cancel' you." Izuku taps Bakugou's bowl with his chopsticks, silently begging the blonde to eat. Hopping he'll take at least a bite to soak up some of that alcohol. Reluctantly deadly fingers pick up the sticks, gathering ramen between them but still undecided if he should eat.
His silence is answer enough for Izuku.
"I know my agency started the program. I'll look into it some more tomorrow. I'll be mostly office duty since I have so much paperwork anyway. But even if her past is dark Katsuki, what are you going to do? She may not have had any say in the matter, she doesn't give me that evil vibe."
Bakugou thinks back to you. How you fight, how you hold yourself.
How cute you were sleeping on his shoulder before he eased you onto his lap. How softly you snored in his bed. His stomach twists, Izuku's words and yours floating around his head.
"I guess I'll decide once I have more answers." With that the blonde decides to bring the spicy noodles to his lips.
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The Dark Team (part 12)
<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>
(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296, @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 @toe-vind-ek-jou @joscelyn02, @t00-pi, @irwxnhugsx)
Warnings: alcohol.
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Disclaimer: pic not mine.
After the sun came completely down and the night bathed the city, making the flashing lights of the buildings and cars look like the sky had spat all of its stars, you gathered all your work and called it a day. Thor, Steve and Bucky were able to go through everything you told them to, and everything was in control. You had managed to solve a chaotic situation from the distance, and the pleasant feeling of doing things right gave you the last push to close your laptop and join Peter and Loki.
Opening one of the windows, you let the fresh wind hit your face and unfurrow your brows, releasing all the tensions you had been accumulating all week long. Peter sneaked up from outside the building and hung upside down from the frame. You gasped, forgetting for a brief moment he was sticky and not completely out of his mind.
“Are you joining us, older?”.
“Yes, little. I’m going”, you laughed at the comeback of the nicknames. Standing for older sibling and little sibling Tony had baptized you with, years ago. Loki chuckled.
“You two are the epitome of adorability, sometimes”.
“Oh, we can get worse”, you laughed.
You had ordered some food in, without wanting to ever touch the mess of that kitchen again, and a bottle of wine. Nobody was there, else than you three; might as well have fun. As you waited for dinner to arrive, you decided on a slide presentation night. You gave each other no more than twenty minutes to arrange it all, so the chaos would be absolute and uncontrollable.
Peter presented first, with a long powerpoint ranking things the Avengers did in “vine-vibes” ascending order. You two tried (and failed miserably) to explain to Loki what a vine was and why something would have its vibes without being actually a video.
Loki’s presentation was titled “Seven hundred reasons why you shouldn’t worship the God of Sparkly hands”. There were actually only six reasons; two of them were about mass murders he was about to commit, and most of them talked about annoying things he did as a child. There was an extra one where it was just a white background and tiny letters in the middle saying “he dyes his hair blonde, he’s actually a redhead”.
Your presentation was titled “Seven hundred and one reasons why you should worship me instead”. No need to elaborate. They all differed except for Friday; she clapped with her electronic hands.
Two board games and some chess later, the food had already arrived. Peter was famished and ate more than you could’ve imagined a boy was capable of. He got so full, so quickly, that he instantly got sleepy. Loki could not bite his tongue and had to say “just like a baby”. It did not help that you snorted, and Peter shot his webs at you two; Loki avoided them and you couldn’t, so you ended up stuck to the roof. Peter started to walk to his room, leaving you up there.
“Hey, hey! Don’t leave, I’m still here!”, you called him. But he was gone. What an avenger. Loki chuckled, and raised his hand to free you with magic, and you instantly realized you were six meters away from the floor. “Wait! I’ll fall!!”.
He didn’t stop, and dissolved the net with a simple spell. As you fell down, you closed your eyes and tried to cover your head, knowing you’d have at least a broken bone. Peter has done this before, you knew there was no way to actually leave unharmed. Loki’s arms tightened around your body, avoiding you to fall flat against the floor.
As you looked up, you met his face, closer than ever. Closer than it ever has been. Your heart skipped a beat, and you knew you had to think about something else than the feeling of his chest against yours, his hands in your back, how he was holding you so gently, how he was looking at you so dearly. You knew you had to think about something else; for he could be reading your mind. He surely was. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t stop focusing on his peach lips and how soft his cheeks looked from up close. You couldn’t see anything else than the movement of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed hard, and how his hand trembled a little in your back.
He let you down slowly, still holding eye contact, still with his arms around you. Not the threatening gaze he would hold against everyone else on the compound. Not the lustful gaze he would sometimes draw while stealing some glances at you changing on your suit (he thought you didn’t notice, you certainly did). Not the concentrated gaze he would hold still on his face while reading one of those books he always carried around.
It wasn’t any of those. You had studied them thoroughly, meticulously, every inch of his facial expressions, every inch of his being while he wasn’t aware of your eyes on him. God, how you hated to look at him this way, but how much you couldn’t avoid it. Your brain knew you shouldn’t get attached. You had no chance at all to be with him; he was a God, a criminal, and he’d go back to Asgard. And, foremost, he didn’t feel the same. He had a lover, and his mind was still there, stuck in that person, undeletable.
And, as much as you could have read him like a children’s book the entirety of the past week, right now, you had no clue what those green eyes on you meant. You had no idea why the blush on his cheeks was in there, and why he let out a tiny (the tiniest, ever so subtle) gasp. Parted lips that shone, looked so…
You shook your head, closing your eyes. He didn’t let go of his grip around you, but your feet were already on the floor. You could’ve walked away if you wanted to. And you wanted to, you definitely did not want to stay there, and sink your nose in his neck. You certainly did not want to play with his hair while staring at those pair of emeralds he couldn’t keep away from you. You couldn’t read him. He looked at you in a way you’ve never seen him before. Yet it felt so… right.
No, it wasn’t right. God, what were you thinking?
He pulled away, and the cold breeze from the window surrounded your body. You didn’t realize how much body heat he was warming you with until he left. Or maybe it was your own. Your face was still burning. You visibly cringed at your reaction, and could not play it cool at all. He chuckled, again, and walked to the kitchen.
You didn’t say anything. Your face still burned, and your chest was tight. You haven’t felt like this in a long time, why now? Why in the middle of an important mission? Why just now, that he specifically told you he would not stay, and that once he left he would not come back? Why now, that he was opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen, and pouring it in two glasses?
Opening the balcony’s doors, there were two metal chairs (those with delicate designs, that would usually belong to a grandma’s garden) and a round and tiny glass table, just waiting for you two to sit there. You needed fresh air, so you did, sinking in all the city, the active flashlights of the cars, the minute people running around, or walking.
Two glasses of wine clicked against the glass table, and Loki sat in front of you with his eyes fixed on the city, too. You observed him from the corner of your eye, and he did the same. A subtle smile drew across his tightened lips.
After a glass of wine, a refill and about an hour of small talk, he uncrossed his legs and stretched his arms and back with a yawn. The blush still remained intact on his cheeks, and it couldn’t be because of the wine. If you weren’t drunk, much less him. He looked back at you, and chuckled uncomfortably.
“What?”, he asked.
“What what?”.
“You’re staring”.
“Oh, sorry”.
“No, it’s fine”, he said, and you furrowed your brows. He specified, “I don’t mind. I wonder what you’re thinking while you stare, nothing more”.
“So you’re not reading my mind?”.
“No. You said you didn’t like that”.
“Ah”, you gave your glass of wine one last sip and emptied it. It was such a simple gesture, yet you didn’t expect him to actually have listened. Of course he would, he wasn’t actually as bad as he was portrayed by Stark, or so you have seen so far of him. “I just… I wonder about you”.
“About what?”.
“You’re difficult to read. My job here is mainly knowing how to read people”, you explained, and he nodded. “It’s almost like you’re purposely hiding. Like you’re shifting your microexpressions into whatever they are now, so nobody can see what you actually think or feel”. He let out a short chest laugh. Probably sarcastic, but how would you know.
“Who would actually want to know what goes through my mind?”.
“I do, just told you”.
He looked down and played with the empty glass in between his fingers. It looked small in comparison.
“You don’t want to, believe me”.
“Are you afraid of letting people in?”.
“No, it’s not that”, he said, trying to let you know he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You ignored it and opened your mouth, but the words died in your tongue as he added, “please, don’t”.
“I wish I knew you better”, you said after a few more minutes of silence. You swore you heard a creaking foot on the stairs, peeping in the conversation. You ignored it; if Loki was to talk to you, he would also say it in front of Peter. Not like you had some sort of special bond, or even friendship. You kind of wished for it, though.
“Why?”. His knitted eyebrows showed how actually curious he was about that. He believed you. He was certain you were telling the truth, but he simply couldn’t put his head around it. Why would anyone want to know me better? What is it about me that you care? And you wished to know the reason, too. If you knew why you were so drawn to him, maybe you could’ve stopped yourself.
“I feel like I’m missing out on something”.
“Something like what?”.
“Something great”.
“There is no greatness in me, it’s all an act”.
“I know it’s all an act”, you said, referring to his whole I’m a God and you’ll kneel before me and I’m superior. “I don't mean that kind of greatness. You’re hiding the wrong things”.
“You’re not missing out on anything”, he insisted, and not for humility, but because he wanted to brush you off. Keep you away from him.
“Don’t you think we could ever get along? Friends, even?”, you pressured. You knew you shouldn’t have, but Loki didn’t take it badly. Instead, he finally looked at you, drawing a sad smile.
“I’m going back to Asgard after the mission. I don’t intend to make new friends”, he said, but a softness in his voice hinted he wasn’t being mean; simply stating the facts. Exactly as it should be.
“Why did you come only for this mission?”, you asked. You actually wanted to ask do you even have friends back there?, but you knew better.
“I owe Stark. I messed up and wanted to fix at least something with him. He’s not taking it too kindly, but I think he understands the intentions”, he explained, sitting back up on his chair and getting his eyes back on the city.
“A peace offering?”.
“More like an apology. Redemption, even”.
“Redemption? Do you see yourself as a villain to him?”.
He didn’t answer right away. Took his time to find the words.
“I wronged. I did things I shouldn’t have”, and then you realized, he wasn’t apologizing for the New York incident. It was personal. You even wondered, maybe… was he…? Was Tony actually the...? No, imposible. “I know helping out on a mission won’t cut it, but if I can at least be a little bit of help to his planet…”.
“May I ask what did you wrong him in?”.
“I tried to take over Midgard once”, he said, and you didn’t believe him.
“If you ask me, it’s not Stark’s place to accept that apology. He doesn’t own the planet, even though he thinks that”.
“Does he?”.
“He acts like such, at least. He has a big ego, but also a big heart. He’s the closest thing I have to a father”.
“I know”, and you weren’t sure what he had said I know to.
The night was kept awake with more small talk you wouldn’t remember the next day. You saw the sun rising from behind the buildings in silence, with a bad aftertaste of wine, takeout food and unspoken words that would stay just like that.
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anjuschiffer · 4 years
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The Fabric Roll Of Fate
So this has been sitting in my WIPs since October of last year... Finally had the time to finish it up! More like I couldn’t sleep so I finally worked on it
Hope you enjoy it!
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Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo (welcome to the permanent taglist!)
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It was one of those random family outings, one of those moments that Damian was reluctantly dragged to
He just wanted to stay home and train for the upcoming fencing tournament in his school, one of the few things that Damian looked forward to in the school year
Yet here he was, being held captive and listening to Garyson talk for the umpteenth time about his daughter’s latest adventure
Finding an opening, Damian slips off, walking through alleyways to escape his family, eventually arriving to the fashion district of Gotham
He decides to enter the first store he sees, seeing as his hands were starting to get cold
He hated Gotham’s chilly and cold seasons. Spring was his favorite season.
As he ventures inside the store, he starts to look at the fabric inside, now wondering why fashion designers were so picky with their fabrics
It was when he saw two identical rolls of fabric that he decided to investigate for his answer
As he runs his hands across two white fabrics (linen and velvet), he notices the slight differences, not noticing that he was starting to mumble his observations
It was then that his hand bumps into someone else’s Damian turning to see a girl his age.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you!” She quickly apologizes. “You were probably in your zone and-”
“I was simply looking at them. You didn’t interrupt anything.”
Damian watches as the girl relaxes and smiles at him.
“I see. Well, if you need any help, I’d be happy to help! Is there a certain reason you’re-”
“I was thinking of hiring someone to make me a suit for an upcoming event-” Damian attempted to lie (although he technically didn’t as his family was looking for one...not like he was going to tell them about the one he just found), taken aback when the girl looked at him with twinkling eyes. What was going on
“A suit? So I’m guessing a tux, but if you want something to make you standout- but I think you don’t want that, huh?” She begins to look him up and down, quickly mumbling some numbers to herself. “Black or any dark color would suit you, but having emerald accents-no! Gold accents would suit you better.” Damian remains silent as she circles him, not once placing a hand on him. “Shawl collars, traditional or modern could work. Definitely single breast, maybe tail-oh god no. No tails.” Damian watched as her eyes filled with happiness. “A cumberbund would definitely suit you. That’s where I can place the gold!”
Damian kept listening as the girl kept listing ideas to herself, watching with awe as she kept the ideas coming, eventually snapping out of his trance when she presented him a card.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to make that suit. Of course! The decision is yours if you’d allow me to make it.” He watches as the girl points to a phone number and email address in rose gold. “Give me a call, text or email if you decide to accept my offer. See ya!”
Damian is left dumbfounded as he watches her go and pick some fabric rolls, purchase them and then leave.
“What just happened?”
Damian looks at the all black card in his hand. On one side was the phone number and email. On the other, the letters M D C were on the card, a single line going through the three letters. Simple, yet elegant.
Damian ends up accepting the offer, setting to meet the girl that Friday afternoon after his classes.
When his family attempts to tag along, he tells them no, setting on going alone.
“Welcome to my humble home.” She greets him after picking him up (she insisted despite Damian saying he had his own mode of transport) at the rendezvous and then to her flat. He was faced with one of Gotham’s most expensive penthouses, Damian wondering who exactly was this girl who can afford one of his father’s expensive hotels.
“Do you...live by yourself?”
“Yup! Although my uncle- oh! How can I forget?” The girl says, closing the door behind her. “Sorry for the late introduction! My name’s Marinette. The one behind the upcoming brand MDC. I’m currently here for a commission. Although, by the looks of it, I might end up staying here in Gotham.”
He’s heard of her, the decade’s youngest designer in the fashion world, or so he’s heard.
“Now, let’s start with getting your measurements, shall we?”
One visit became two, to then various
And they were mainly never about his suit that she was making him.
He didn’t know why he found him attracted to her place...to her
But simply felt at home with her
He quickly learns everything about her. Her old school life, her friends, her ex, her parents, hobbies, and old commissions. 
At first he thought she graduated early from highschool because of her bully, but it turns out that it was because she already had all her requirements done and seeing that there was no other reason to stay, she left. Also, having more time is what she needed if she wanted to succeed in the fashion world. So when her uncle (who he learns is Jagged Stone) offered her a hand, she took it and came to Gotham.
But Damian didn’t just listen, he also talked about himself
About Titus, his family, his fencing tournament. His opinions on Selina. His mixed feelings about his mother.
His family kept trying to follow him, but they have yet to figure out where he would go every other afternoon and evening.
Months pass, the suit already done and ready to be worn, but it still wasn’t the day of the Gala yet. But even then, Damian still stopped by, often times letting Marinette use him as a mannequin and dress form
Sometimes they would continue to talk about their mundane lives or things from the past that still ate at them, anything for Damian to simply listen to her voice because while he didn’t fully accept it, he knew he had feelings for her.
A scene that happens:
“And the worst part was that Alya knew she was lying. Lila was definitely not there because Alya was there. She was the one who saw Ladybug capture the akuma not Lila. Lila wasn’t anywhere near Paris when it even happened!” Marinette huffed as she tippy toed to make sure she was measuring the correct portion of Damian’s back. 
Damian felt her presence ever so close to him, causing him to panic. Yes, he only allowed her to invade his personal space, but this was too much for his heart. 
The aroma of baked goods always radiated from her and being this close only made Damian want to become obsessed with the smell even more. 
“So even with that in mind, this Alya decided to take the other girl’s stance?” Marinette let out a sigh, walking in front of Damian and throwing the tape measure around his neck, causing him to tense up. 
“Yeah, and I guess that’s what really made me snap to reality when it came to Alya.” Mari frowned at that, tightening the tape closer to each other to get a collar measure. 
Lord, did she have no idea how much restraint Damian had to put himself under for just wanting to kiss her right now, but he knew better than than. 
He took her hands away from the tape, noticing her eyes lacking that shine they usually carry when she’s in the crafting zone. He looked at her hands, covered in calluses and a few sewing mishaps. Even when they were covered in painful memories, Marinette hands were still gentle. “What’s gentle?” 
Damian’s breath hitched, realizing that he said that last part out loud. 
“You are.” Damian said, bringing her hands to his lips to kiss. Damian couldn’t help but feel victorious at the sight of Marinette glowing pink. “You’re a gentle and kind person. She doesn’t deserve your kindness if she was willing to quickly push you aside like that.”
Marinette looked straight at Damian before throwing herself into his chest, almost causing him to tip back. “Thank you, Damian.”
A few days were left until the gala, and it just had to be that time when his stupid brothers found out about his meetings with Marinette (and him coning to terms that he absolutely loves her)
“A girl, huh?” Jason would tease while Dick tried to gathering more information about Damian’s “friend”
“She’s simply designing my suit for-”
“The gala. Sure Lil’ D.” Grayson would say before wanting to pry more information from him. 
“Why don’t you invite her to the gala?” Bruce proposes, Damian no thinking about it
“Maybe I will.” He regrets saying
And Marinette ends up saying yes, now panicking about what to wear
“What about that dress?” Damian points to her almost completed black dress.
A high collared black dress with long sleeves was what Damian was referring to. With an open back and skirt that fell to the ground, it’s golden accents by the collar that ran across the chest...it would match his own all black suit with golden accents at the shoulders and cumberbund. 
“That.. that could actually work.”
Time skip to the gala, where when the two arrive, they steal the spotlight because not only did Damian arrive with a date, but she was stunning. Despite being three inches taller than him, Marinette was perfect by his side
“So Damian, what’s her name and how’d you meet this girl?” Jason asked first, but to Dick’s annoyance.
“Her name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the one behind both of our attires.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Bruce manages to say despite being surprised by Damian’s new development.
“So how-” Tim attempted to ask, but marinette cut him off.
“We met at a fabric store. A fabric roll brought us together.”
The night goes on, with it ending by Marinette asking Damian to be her boyfriend. (Damian then also reveals that he was also going to ask her to be his girlfriend)
“Of course.” He says, having to stretch to kiss her, glad to have gone into that fabric store that day.
Sure, it was weird, but Damian was glad to day that a single fabric roll decided their fate of meeting each other.
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secret-engima · 4 years
Text
LC Birds: Meeting Child and Accursed
(I have gotten a several asks about Ardyn and Ozpin and such and them meeting and Ardyn wigging out, but I wanted to do a nice ramble on it in a separate post just Because™ so here goes)
...
-Ardyn does not know much about the cloning process. Just that Besithia is able to take blood of himself or even of animals, sometimes long DEAD animals, and grow them into new beings in tubes. He’s never cared. The clones that become MT units are essentially tiny Besithias in his mind, and if the man wants to turn himself into a daemon a thousand times over then let him. Ardyn doesn’t care.
-What he does care about, if only distantly, is the word that comes of King Regis having another child. His two illegitimate children, found at age thirteen a few years ago, have already been the fuel of much gossip in the Niflheim courts. Ardyn had found it amusing that Somnus’s descendant could not keep his lineage in one place. But this child ... this child is his heir.
-This child will be the Chosen King. He can *feel it*.
-And he is curious, in a dark and bitter way, over what this new, “better” Chosen King will look like. So perhaps a year after the “happy” news that the child has been born and his mother recovered from her post-pregnancy complications, Ardyn decides to pay a visit.
-Slipping past the guards is child’s play. They either see one of their own, or a servant, or nothing at all depending on his desire. He steals a keycard from some fool that he allows to remain alive and makes his way up to the royal suites. It doesn’t take him any time at all to find the royal Heir. The twins are in another part of the Citadel, and the young prince’s magic is fresh and new and vulnerable. Easy to track down to a sprawling playroom where Ardyn hears miserable crying through the door.
-”Shh,” someone says as he slips inside, “It’s alright, I can make it better, it’s alright.” Ardyn stills when he sees the Chosen King, at first completely ignoring the young teen rocking him back and forth. The child looks spoiled rotten, chubby with baby fat and red from his tantrum, the source of which Ardyn can see on the chubby cheek. A tiny cut with just the faintest beads of blood. How the child managed to do that is a mystery, but Ardyn feels nothing but scorn. The sheer amount of growing this child will have to do to be anything *interesting* will take more years than Ardyn anticipated. Not that he can’t be patient-.
-Magic.
-Not his, not the child’s. It caresses the Chosen King and NOW Ardyn looks at the teen holding the young prince. The boy is dressed in comfortable finery, with an ornate cane beside him that indicates he himself is not of the best health, but none of that matters because Ardyn is too distracted trying to figure out why the boy’s magic exists. Another wayward elder spawn of the current king perhaps?
-The teen gently touches a finger to the cut, a serene smile on his face as he hums and green magic flickers to life, “There, there, it barely even stings, see?”
-The Chosen King stops crying and coos as the cut heals over-
-And reopens on the teen’s dark skinned one.
-Ardyn forgets everything, forgets stealth, forgets the Chosen King, forgets even to be angry. All he feels is something cold and ugly and fearful in his chest, all pointed at someone other than himself. The teenager is on his feet less than a moment later, the cane in his hand and pointed at Ardyn’s chest like a sword as he backs away, something fearful in his gold eyes and Astrals above.
-Those are Aera’s eyes. Not her color, this boy’s eyes are gold, but the shape, the shape he memorized so long ago, the long, thick lashes, the silver-white hair so common for the males of the Nox Fleuret line. His skin is dark and his eyes are gold but his eye-shape is Aera’s. His wispy, wavy hair is Aera’s. His cheekbones and the way his nostril flare with his fear are all Aera’s even though the magic surging out in alarm-warning-fear-battle is more Lucis Caelum than Oracle and his jawline is just a touch too broad for Aera’s even though it is achingly familiar, as if from a mirror.
-A mirror.
-Aera.
-Him.
-The magic only he had ever possessed, mixed with the warning snaps of Oracle gold that bite at him and make his human guise fall away as the Scourge rises up to snarl back. The boy looks horrified, he looks angry and ready to fight Ardyn to the death even though he has a heavy limp as he backs away with the child king and it hurts Ardyn, on a level he didn’t think he had anymore, because that is Aera’s child. Somehow, some way even though she has been dead and gone for so long. It is like looking at a dark skinned dream, a wish he’d once had that was never meant to be, but that makes no SENSE. Aera is DEAD and Ardyn has never lain with anyone. Ardyn never even laid with Aera, so he cannot be a descendant. And there is no other way for a child to come into being.
-Except there is.
-“Where did you come from,” Ardyn rasps, stalking closer even as the boy’s eyes flash emerald in warning and the cane hums with magic, “Who’s child are you?” The boy stares, and Ardyn roars over the crying child in the teen’s arms, “ANSWER ME.”
-“My name is Ozpin,” the boy manages past the terror Ardyn can see coating his every breath, past the tremble in his hands, “And I never knew the parents who gave me their blood. I woke up on the shores of an island with no memory of how I came to be there.”
-“You have Oracle and Lucis Caelum magic both,” Ardyn growls, “Is not the KING your father?”
-“No.” The teen chokes out as the magic of the twins and the king burns closer-closer-closer to his rescue, “They ran tests. The nearest blood connection I have to the current Lucis Caelum line is two thousand years old-.” He ducks, using his body to shield the child as a green shield flares and guards his back against the glass windows that just shattered. Pieces slam into place and for once even the screaming of the Scourge has no hold on his mind over the chant of Aera-Aera-Aera-Aera’s-child-MY-CHILD-AERA’S-CHILD-. Ardyn’s mind clears. For one moment he feels like himself again. Like the Ardyn he was before the sickness, before Somnus’s betrayal, before he was dragged out of his tomb by Besithia.
-The boy with Aera’s face and hair and Ardyn’s gold-tainted eyes and their magic mixed together in perfect harmony stands up again, and in his face is the sudden calm of someone who has stopped being scared because they are certain that they are going to die protecting another.
-He did that.
-He’s ... frightened the boy.
-He’s frightened Aera’s son.
-The royal twins, the king, and a host of guards burst in moments later, but Ardyn is already gone, flung himself out the shattered window and down into the city to escape, to grieve, to RAGE because he has frightened Aera’s son. A son that shouldn’t exist but DOES and-
-And he knows exactly who is at fault.
-Who should have told him.
-Perhaps it is time to sit down and have that conversation Besithia is always needling for. And when he is done, perhaps it is time for the Empire to find a new head scientist. Because he knows little about cloning, but he knows it can create life from dead bones, and anyone who desecrated Aera’s rest deserved what nightmares the Scourge screaming inside him wanted to unleash.
-(And if he is running from the guilt of frightening the child he never thought he would have, if he is running from the realization that he and Aera had a child only for that child to see him as a MONSTER for the scourge under his veins and the way he found the boy- well. That is his crisis to deal with another time)
-(Meanwhile Ozpin sags into the hold of his Shield and Sword, shaking and bordering on a panic attack as his mind replays the sudden appearance of a man who felt- who lOOKED- like SALEM. Corrupted and sick and not right in the head, and in that moment Ozpin had been so sure the cycle was going to start again, that the man would smile and somehow know to call him Ozma even though the man cannot be Salem and Ozpin knows it-.)
-(He hides his face in the crook of Raven’s neck and tries not to wonder about the way gold eyes had briefly, gut-wrenchingly cleared and become sane again. Become afraid and heartbroken again.)
-(The man had asked about who his parent’s were.)
-(Ozpin refuses to think about how in that moment of sanity, the man’s shade of gold had been exactly Ozpin’s own)
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blackhakumen · 3 years
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Mini Fanfic #814: Texting From Home (Sonic X SSBU)
Knuckles: Hey, Rouge.
Rouge: Well, isn't this a surprise!~ You actually managed to text me first before I could text you.
Rouge: I wonder what's the special occasion might be~
Knuckles: Nothing really. I just wondering how your vacation with your team is going so far.
Knuckles: And hoping that you're not causing any sort of trouble along the way.
Rouge: Knuckles the Echidna, I am appalled!
Rouge: How could you assume that your lovely, beautiful girlfriend would cause ANY sorts of problem!?
Rouge: And besides, who's to say Shadow and Omega aren't the ones causing trouble either, Hmmmmmm!?
Knuckles: Well, for starters, Shadow never seem like the type of guy to cause any trouble intentionally and the only time I see Omega starts making havoc is when Eggman or his robots gets involved.
Knuckles: So with all of that in mind and all the times you tried stealing the Master Emerald in the past, I'd say that you're the only member in the group who would most likely cause trouble.
Rouge: Alright fine, Sherlock Holmes! You caught me.....
Rouge: Back when we were at the Casino, I may have gotten the three of us chased out and possibly banned from there by cheating....
Rouge: BUT in my honest defense, that stupid Game Guy started cheating first!
Knuckles: You're talking that Shy Guy with the Purple Bowtie?
Rouge: Yeah. Him. But fortunately, we managed to escape and landed on Isle Defino instead.
Rouge: It's this lovely, resort like island where Sonic, Tails, and the rest of the Smash Family has gone to for their family vacation.
Knuckles: Sweet. So what are you guys doing there right now?
Rouge: Shadow's spending some quality time with his family, Omega's out there making a sand castle with the Phantom Thieves, and I, for one, am relaxing under the nice, beautiful sun as we speak~
Rouge: My Kind of Vacation🏵️.jpg
Knuckles: Cool.
Knuckles: Glad you're having a good time.
Knuckles: You look great btw.
Rouge: Thank you, honey~
Rouge: Are you surprised by how breathtaking I look in this lovely bathing suit?~
Rouge: So much so that it makes your heart skip a beat?
.....................................................
Knuckles stares at the picture Rouge sent him in silence while blushing and having his nose bleed a little.
...................................................
Knuckles: Please. I've seen you in many swimsuits before. It never faze me.
Rouge: Uh-huh. So are we really going to ignore that one time where you blushed like a cherry when you first saw in a bikini?
Knuckles: I don't know what you're talking about.
Knuckles: Not a clue.
Rouge: Never change, my handsome Knuckie. Never change.
Rouge: But yeah, we're having a great time so far.
Rouge: Though, something strange just happened earlier.
Knuckles: Srsly? Like what?
Rouge: So there were like a bunch of guys fawning over a woman with blue and gray skin.
Rouge: She looks almost exactly like that Bounty Hunter lady with the blonde hair.
Rouge: And then after that, some weird pterodactyl looking monster starts singing her an off-key love song with a guitar.
Rouge: Blue Haired Chick.jpg
Rouge: Pterodactyl Singing.vid
Knuckles: Yeah. That all does sound strange. And Ridley's singing voice is terrible.
Rouge: Wait that was his name? Ridley?
Knuckles: Yep. That was the "terrifying" Space Pirate alright.
Knuckles: I'm just glad none of those guys tried and hit on you.
Rouge: No need to worry about that, hon. I wouldn't let get near me even if they try.
Knuckles: I know you wouldn't.
Knuckles: I do miss you a lot tho.
Rouge: Awwwww~ Really?
Knuckles: Duh. You're my girlfriend and Cuddle Partner. Of course I'm gonna miss you like crazy.
.....................................................
Rouge stares at the words "Cuddle Partner" on her phone for a few seconds before bursting out laughing where everyone present at the beach, can hear her.
Omega: (Glares at Rouge While Making a Sandcastle with Futuba and the Gang) ROUGE! Will you please refrain yourself from laughing in a high volume? You are disturbing our concentrating!!
Rouge: (Starts Calming Herself Down While Giggling) Sorry, Omega honey!~ (Continues Texting Knuckles)
................................................
Rouge: Oh my poor Knuckie~ Words can't express how much I miss you too~
Rouge: And I promise that I'll make it up to you as soon as we come back home in a the couple of days.
Knuckles: You don't need to worry about me too much. I can wait for a few days no problem.
Knuckles: You just keep enjoying the rest your vacation. I love you. (•‿•)
...........................................
Rouge's heart begins to melt in Pure happiness as she hugs her phone lovely before texting back.
............................................
Rouge: I love you too, Knuckles~ With all my heart~ ( ˘ ³˘)♥( ˘ ³˘)♥( ˘ ³˘)♥
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