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bigassmoonchild · 1 year ago

Text

The Aftermath

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2k

The first part does give context, but isn’t required for this read.

Summary: You knew the difficulty the process of being a mated Omega in the military. You understood how much you would lose, but you never thought about the difficulty in your normal life. Never thought about the panic you would have, or how much it would effect you and Ghost's personal relationship.

Content Tags: Hospitals, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: I was not expecting such a good response to Maple Syrup, and since y'all seemed to like it so much here's basically the next part. Let me know if you want anything specific, my asks should be open. <3 I'm adding a 'keep reading' link to make sure you can scroll on if you want.

Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Everything felt wrong. Ghost wasn't injured, but he was being held overnight in the medbay. The Maple Syrup had run its course through him, but he could hear chatter echoing in the room. He could smell you, you weren't too far from him but he wasn't allowed to see you. Price had come in not too long after the doctors had checked him over and cleared him, arms crossed as he sat in the chair next to the bed Ghost was in.

"We'll need to talk, you know," was the only thing Price had said, leaning back and relaxing in the chair.

"Is the Doc okay?" Ghost asked, looking in the direction your scent was coming from. The sickly sweet smell of heat was becoming stale, but you were on lock and key just in case any Alpha soldiers tried to come in. Price looked in the same direction, giving a faint shrug.

"I'm going to be updated once she's steady enough for the doctors to leave her alone," Price said. "Gaz is on watch outside her room," Ghost nodded. Gaz was a Beta, so it would be fine for him to be that close. Ghost still didn't like it, he didn't know how his pack was, where everyone was, if everyone was safe.

It took a few hours, it was well past midnight before any movement came from the direction of your room. The curtains surrounding Ghosts bed was moved, the Doctor gesturing for Price to follow him. Ghost had tried to listen in, but it wasn't worth it. He was still in mild pain from the mission, the place where the tranq had stabbed him still throbbed every so often.

Price walked back in some time later, looking at Ghost with a sigh. That didn't make him feel good, panic started to flow through him, thoughts of you dying flashed in his mind for a few moments.

"She's gonna be fine," Price started. "They got her heat back under control, they're just waiting for it to finish cycling through her. Outside of that, she's fine," Price sat next to Ghost. "I can't ask you about what happened. I can only tell you what will happen," he looked away.

You woke up, head foggy and throbbing with a headache. You could see a form moving next to you, checking your vitals. You gave a soft groan, your neck throbbing alongside your core. Everything hurt, but you weren't able to tell if it was everything.

"You finally waking up?" The voice asked, and you could recognize it. "You've been out for a few days, you've even had Ghost trying to get in," she giggled a little. Amanda. That was her name, she was one of the nurses you'd been working with prior to the mission that went south.

At the mention of Ghost, you sat upright, vision spinning before righting itself.

"It was a really bad heat you were sent into, y'know. Took us a few hours to stabilize you, but you're doing good for yourself," she smiled, trying to lay you back down but you pushed her off of you.

"I need to talk to him," god even your throat hurt. She nodded slowly, sticking her head out of the door. You rubbed your head, headache now making you feel sick. It took a few moments, but you heard footsteps come in the room, a figure standing next to you. When you looked up, it was Price.

"There are some procedures we need to go through. I've already got some officers in, but we still need to talk about what happened," Price started, moving to sit in the chair near you. "Ghost has already spoken with them, so it'll be you, me and the officers. I think Laswell has flown in as well," you stared at Price.

With a few blinks, you looked down to think. Ghost had already spoken with the officers? You knew what the rules were like, and you knew that your career was now in his hands. It pissed you off, if you could really focus on feeling much outside of pain.

"The officers are trying to get him to make a decision on your career. I can't let you two talk about anything yet, the Adjutant Officers still need to figure things out before you'll be allowed near each other," Price looked away, your jaw tensing. You really had no rights anymore, did you?

It took another few days before you were released. The second you had clothes of your own to wear, you were gone off into your room.

Someone had been here. You could smell a stale scent, but you weren't able to place it. It was too distant to be able to decipher, but your room was exactly the same as it had been left before you were hospitalized. You didn't feel comfortable in your room, knowing someone had been here.

A knock on the door made you spin, nerves set tight. As you opened the door, a large figure came into view.

"Doc," Ghost started, before being yanked into your room and having the door slammed behind him. You turned on him, staring at him sharply. You pointed, opening your mouth before shutting it and groaning, running hands through your hair.

You kept trying to start talking before you stopped yourself, eventually kicking at the wall in irritation.

"What did you say to them?" You hissed, back still turned and facing the wall. You could hear him shift behind you, boots scuffing against the ground. You turned, storming up to him, chest to chest. "What the hell did you tell them? You gonna dismantle my career? Make me some fucking house-omega?" You were growling now, you could feel your muscles tensing.

When he didn't respond, you groaned, tossing your hands up in defeat and walking away from him. You turned, hand on your hip, waiting for a response.

"I don't want to take your career away," he whispered, finally. You barked a laugh, rubbing your wrist against your bitten gland. His hand reached out to grab you, but you moved away from him. "I don't want to make decisions for you," he added, voice growing more desperate.

You shook your head, pulling your hand away from your gland and shaking them out. Ghost reached out to you again, hand catching your shoulder before you shrugged him off.

"I don't know what to do," you whispered. "I'm terrified, because now I'm outed to so many people, and there's quite literally nothing I can do to save myself," you turned to look at Ghost.

He scoffed. "You think I'm going to ruin things for you? I've already told you, I don't want that kind of control over you," he looked away, crossing his arms. You could smell the distress on him.

"You have done shit to make me trust you!" Your voice raised before dropping, a hand running down your face. "I have zero control left, you know how many rights I have as a mated Omega?" He shook his head. "None," you glared at him.

Ghost glanced at you before looking away again. He shook his head, moving to leave before you blocked the door from him.

"You don't get to walk out when we're talking," you growled at him and he growled back.

"This isn't a conversation, this is you getting all pissy on me," he loomed over you, forcing you to take a step back. "I didn't want this to happen, I would have chosen any other way to save us, but we didn't get a choice, did we?" You looked away.

"Get out,"

He could smell the distress on you the second he spoke. Your scent left him spiraling, he was panicking. His Omega was distressed, and he was the cause. He wanted to fix it, correct the problem and make you happy again.

Ghost could do nothing when you repeated yourself.

"Get the hell out," you glared at him. Ghost opened his mouth to give you a retort, but you had turned away. He bit his tongue, turning to stare at the door.

"You know that's not what I meant," he whispered, opening the door and leaving.

Even after walking aimlessly for ten minutes, he could still smell your distress on your scent, the sour taste stuck on the back of his throat. This wasn't how he had intended to talk to you, he wanted to make a plan for when they asked him more questions regarding your career.

Ghost was pissed off, more so with himself than you, but he wanted to comfort you. Fix what he had said, take it back.

But he had a meeting to attend, and he needed to make sure he didn't say anything wrong.

You sat in the conference room, Price, Laswell and an Adjutant officer sitting across from you. This was the third time you'd gone over what had happened.

"So you say this 'Maple Syrup' is what caused Ghost to go into a feral rut?"

"Yes," you deadpanned, glaring through the Adjutant. "We've already been through all of this, there is literally nothing else that I haven't told you," the Adjutant hummed.

"We need to make sure everything is covered," he told you, looking at the paper he had been writing on for the past hour and a half.

You looked at Price, hoping he would help you in any way. He looked away, leaning further back into his seat.

"What about my career?" The room went silent, the Adjutant stopped reading, glancing over at Price who had finally looked at you. "I want to know what's happening," you whispered. The last few days had left you unsure of yourself. You wanted to confront Ghost, you wanted to apologize for snapping at him, you wanted to fix what you'd said.

None of them spoke, Laswell had opened her mouth to speak before closing it, taking a deep breath. Her fingers tapped on the table, looking at Price and the Adjutant.

She looked back at you. "You aren't allowed to make any decisions regarding that, you know," your head dropped back with a groan, wrist rubbing against your bitten gland roughly. You were terrified, you didn't know what the future was going to hold.

You had so little control and it was getting worse. You stood abruptly, going to walk out the door before Price spoke.

"Would you like to speak with Ghost?" You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. With people around, you wouldn't snap on him, but you also didn't want to see him since his last remarks. You really needed to know if you still worked here, or if he was going to force you to become a house-omega.

You nodded, turning around and sitting back down while staring Price down as he made a phone-call. A few moments later, Ghost walked in and sat beside you, but you still couldn't look at him. It was silent for a few minutes, everyone looking at each other, waiting for the first to speak.

"You still have a job here," Ghost spoke up. "I didn't let them remove you, but they won't allow you on missions anymore," he added the last part quietly. You nodded.

You could hear Price and Laswell ushering the Adjutant Officer out of the room, the door closing with a click behind them. Neither you nor Ghost talked for a few minutes, you could smell a certain level of stress on him.

"Thank you," you whispered, glancing quickly at him. He was staring at you, eyes watching your every twitch and shudder. "I'm... sorry, for the other day," you fiddled with your fingers. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Ghost shook his head, hesitating before grabbing your hand, pulling it close to him and in turn tugging you towards him. You finally turned to look at him, and his eyes visibly softened.

He looked down, then back up to you. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said what I did. Not in the way I did," he tugged you even closer to him, nuzzling into your gland. "I don't regret having you as my mate now, but if I could've changed what I did, you wouldn't be stuck with me making decisions for you now," you leaned in to him, pressing your face into his chest.

It relaxed you, his scent, and allowed you to think much clearer.

"I'm just so scared,"

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dinsbeskar · 17 days ago

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Homecoming (Sauron/F!Reader)

Sauron finds his wife in Eregion when Galadriel is forced to find aid for Halbrand's terrible near-fatal wound, a thousand years after she left him at his coronation

AO3 Link

Soundtrack: a thousand years by Christina Perri (shut up, I know it's obvious!!), If I Could Turn Back Time by Cher, It's All Coming Back To Me Now by my girl Céline Dion, Can't Fight The Moonlight by LeAnn Rimes

Warnings: 18+ only!! Smut!! Tooth rotting fluff!! (Remember to floss!!) Tiny bit of angst (the rest comes later, it's a slow burn!) P in V sex, handjob, Halbrand’s glorious chest hair (I'm amused when we tag for that so I'm joining in 😂), separation anxiety lmfao (no but fr), cuddling, spooning, emotional manipulation (what a mix), tiny bit of rough sex/teeth/biting, praise kink, teasing (the guy is a menace, sorry!), male masturbation, fingering, dom!Sauron (he's a service top, okay?), big dick Halbrand (it must be done, idek at this point)

A/N: hi guys!! So finally, after so many chapters, I have for you: Sauron and Reader's reunion. I wrote In The Dark first, and promised a follow-up, and then ended up writing a bunch of prequels first. But finally, here they are!!

Word Count: 4.9k!

Quick rundown of what to read before this one for context (or don't, I'm not the boss of you!!):

Haunted, where we split them up

In The Dark of The Night, the story that started it all, where Reader fantasises about Sauron and he manages to reach out for her

Evil Will Find Her, Sauron’s POV of the above.

Y'all this is the softest, most candyfloss like fluffy smut I've ever written, what is wrong with me??

When Galadriel is sent to Valinor, you mourn the loss of your friend, of course, but there is a traitorous part of you that is secretly glad that your husband's last hunter will no longer keep you up at night in fear for his demise yet again.

You have not felt him stir in such a long time, you were beginning to give up hope. But one night you swore you could feel him, the ghost of his touch, his comforting presence. And the next night, and the next, until you'd grown entirely accustomed to imagining him beside you, atop you, beneath you.

The quaking in the earth beneath Lindon was barely perceptible, but perceive it you did. It must have come from afar, but what could cause the very foundations of the earth to shake so? The rest of your kin brushed it off as some natural occurrence, but you were sure deep down that these stirrings in the earth and in your heart were one and the same.

So when the High King sent Elrond to Eregion, you figured your best bet was to go with him, travelling further east in search of answers. You knew what you hoped for, but would not dare speak it even in your mind, not wanting to dispel the wish before it had even taken flight.

Lord Celebrimbor was a most gracious host, giving you both rooms and leave to stay as long as you wished. It was so different to Lindon, you thought you might stay a while, and with the building of the new forge, a tiny part of you hoped your beloved would seek out a place where he could practise his craft, and what better place to do so.

The last person you expected to see was Galadriel, whom you thought had arrived safely in Valinor, racing through the city gates, another horse in tow carrying a nigh-unconscious man who nearly falls from his seat as they come to an abrupt halt.

"Enemy lance. Six days ago. We rode without rest. Can you help him?" Galadriel's voice carries to your Elvish ears as you run to meet them, a feeling in your gut that your healing was required.

"Come, he needs rest, take him to the infirmary, I will follow." You say to the guards propping him up.

He's filthy, as is Galadriel, and the first thing you'll need to do is strip him off and bathe him.

You thought he was unconscious, but he turns his head slightly to catch your eye, winks, then allows himself to be dragged away.

A sweat breaks across your body, accompanied by wild fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

Mairon.

Your husband. The husband you thought had abandoned you. The husband you thought was dead. That husband.

You can't fight the smile on your face, the utter joy that is about to overwhelm you; even after everything you'd said to each other the last time you spoke, you still missed him, yearned for him with a fiery passion that hadn't dampened in the eons you've been apart. The utter delight of finding the other half of your soul again obliterated your momentary shock at his arrival, and you hasten to be at his side.

"I'll go see to our guest," you excuse yourself, while squeezing Galadriel's hand. "It's good to see you, mellon nin [my friend]."

She watches after you with a strange expression, bemused that in your hurry, you thought to ask no questions as to how she was back on the shores of Middle Earth.

"Leave us. I can tend to him well enough without an audience." You nod to the guards standing over your husband; any excuse to be left alone with him.

Thankfully they don't need much persuasion and take their leave, the room filling with tension as soon as the door clicks shut behind them.

The thrill of his presence has not faded; in fact what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder might indeed be the case. However your joy is overcast by the malice you threw at each other a millennium ago.

You have no idea what to say, now that you're face to face with him. Your last words were cruel, and you remember them as if they were yesterday; if he has brooded upon your words, he might never forgive you. You pick at a stray thread on your sleeve, avoiding his gaze, which is suddenly very alert now that you're alone.

"No greeting for me, dear wife?" His voice is different, his cadence of speech is rougher but no less silver to the ear.

"I missed you."

"I know."

You step closer, bringing a washbasin and cloth, placing it beside him. You go to feel his forehead with the back of your hand to check for infection, but he snatches it from its path and holds you in place, studying your face intently. His green eyes pierce your soul, and instantly you feel more at peace than you have in a thousand years.

You reach out once more, trembling slightly with anticipation, tracing his face, learning every new contour in case he is ripped from you again.

He leans into your touch, letting you take your fill of him, before reaching up to grasp your face, pulling you in for a tender kiss that makes you see stars, his rough stubble a sharp contrast to the way his tongue softly delves into your mouth.

He breaks away first, his mortal form forcing him to take a breath, the wound in his torso paining him more than he'd like you to know.

"I thought you'd still be angry with me." You whisper against his cheek, heart racing.

He shakes his head slightly, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Never, not with you." His voice is so soft, you barely catch it, his words meant strictly for your ears only; in Eregion, surrounded by sensitive Elvish hearing, the walls really do have ears.

"I've had so much time to think about what happened, and I take it all back. Every word. I love you and I'm so sorry, I should have been there for you." You hold his gaze, searching his eyes for confirmation of his forgiveness, that he will not just say what he thinks you want to hear.

"No, that was the only thing that saved me, knowing you were safe, out of harm's way."

"Still, I should have-"

"Hush, my love, I'm here now and I won't be parted so easily from you again." He means it, you can hear the determination in his voice, but Morgoth's curse has plagued you both for centuries, even after he was banished to the Void, and joy makes way for the dread already beginning to build in the pit of your stomach.

Relief rolls through the two of you, and the very air is lighter as you take each other in after so long. You look entirely as he remembers, perhaps more radiant, more lovely, than his memory allowed him to recollect. Perhaps it is just that he can finally touch you.

He, on the other hand, looks entirely different. Not that you're complaining. This new form is just as pleasant as any other you've enjoyed; perhaps a little coarser, rough around the edges, more hair than you're used to... but it is no bad thing, and you find yourself just staring at him until you remember why he is here.

"Oh, would you like healing, perchance?" Your tone is playful but the tiny crease in your forehead tells him you're still worried for him.

He chuckles, wincing as he does so, pain smarting in his side.

"If you'd be so kind, fair maiden." And with that, he lays back to let you work.

You let him away with a fair amount, this being only one thing of many. You know he's perfectly capable of healing himself of such a wound, and he knows you know, but sometimes it is satisfying to care, and to be taken care of. He did always enjoy your attentions.

"I'm afraid I must get these rags off you, my lord. I cannot possibly see the wound through all these layers." You pull out a wickedly sharp pair of scissors, slicing through the fabric in one fluid motion, moving it to the side to examine him.

Your gaze is already locked onto the gaping hole in his side, but you allow yourself to run your fingers methodically up his torso, marvelling in the thick black hair that populates his chest. Certainly different from what you were used to, but not unappealing in the slightest.

His wicked grin reminds you of your work, and your blush grows with your smile, enjoying yourself far too much.

A little cleaning, some herbs and a healing song render him virtually healed, as well as a little of his own power to speed the process along, but you run your hands over him long after the wound is knitted together, enjoying the feeling of your husband beneath your fingers after so long.

"Did you know I was here?" You ask him softly, your head laying on his bare chest as you nestle into his side on the small cot, running your fingers through his hair.

"Of course. I could feel you, in fact, I was on my way here," he pauses, considering his next words; you wouldn't be too happy to hear he'd used the scenic route, instead of hastening to your side.

"But?" You can practically hear the cogs whirring in his mind, trying to come up with some elaborate fabrication.

"Fate pulled me to the sea. And then it brought me back to you." Perhaps he'd regale you with tales of Númenor another time; right now, he was simply content to listen to your heartbeat, fluttering in time to his once more.

"With Galadriel and an army? That must be quite a tale." You ponder aloud, leaving him space to elaborate if he wishes, but not wanting to press him too soon.

"It is." He kisses you again, this time deeper, rougher, tongue demanding entrance to your mouth as he curls his fingers in your hair.

He has to resurface first, letting your lips part reluctantly as his lungs demand air. It's quite charming, considering how he is so used to torturing you with your bodily needs, only letting you gasp for air when you're desperate, if he's feeling particularly cruel.

"Don't get used to it," he chuckles, overhearing your thoughts as always; you muse over how that used to irritate you, but now you're so ecstatic to have him under your fingertips again, you'd unlock every door of your mind for him.

"I'm just enjoying the difference in dynamic, my love, it's delightful being the torturer, not the tortured." You laugh, as a low growl emanates from his chest.

"Don't remind me," he rolls his eyes before pulling you closer, as if that were possible.

"I really did miss you, love, it's been a lifetime and ten since we could last do this." You lift up your entwined fingers to emphasise the point, which he answers with a kiss to each knuckle, as if in apology.

"I won't be parted from you again, you need not worry," he whispers in your ear, and you want to believe him, but fate has always had other plans for the two of you, and you have no reason to assume it might be different this time.

"Besides," he continues, stroking his fingers through the hollows of your knuckles, "it's not as if I was wholly absent, especially recently."

You crane your neck to meet his gaze, confused as to what he could possibly mean. You raise your eyebrows, encouraging him to elaborate.

"Admittedly it was difficult to manifest myself in two places while I gathered my strength, but surely you noticed me reaching out for you? Touching your mind?" He pauses for dramatic effect. "...and other things?"

"Now I really have no idea, my dear husband, you will need to explain." You laugh at his bemused expression, still none the wiser as to how he could have been with you while physically absent.

"I reached out for you, I could see you, feel you, and I swore you felt me too. Did you really not feel me?" He asks, slightly indignant, as if you could hardly have missed him.

Ah. Yes, now it clicks into place; you'd thought you'd sensed something, or perhaps someone, with you on those dark nights alone. You were right. He hadn't abandoned you after all.

"It was you," you breathe, marvelling anew, "I thought for a moment- you found me, even then, even when you were at your weakest, you found me."

He kisses your palm and holds it to his chest, reluctant to ever let you go again.

"Of course, love, I vowed I'd always find you," he murmurs in your ear, his physical being aching with the reunion of your two souls, electric tingles dancing across your flesh as you trace across his unfamiliar form.

You relish in his closeness, unwilling to be parted from him until-

"Oh no! What you must have witnessed-" You go to cover your face, cheeks flushing as you recall exactly what you were up to when you felt his presence.

He takes your hands and chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. How could you still be embarrassed in front of him, your lord husband, after all this time? His heart swells, taking you in as you squirm under his gaze.

"Darling, you are mine, I am yours, we are one soul, one flesh, are we not?" He squeezes your hands, gazing at you fondly; after a thousand years, your hearts still beat as one, and you meet his eyes with relief, cheeks still heated but no longer with embarrassment.

His fingers travel across your body with the practised touch of one who knows you better than you know yourself. Even after all this time, he knows exactly where to be gentle, where to be rough, where to knead your flesh or trace it softly. He knows your body better than his own.

"You're trembling, love," he whispers against your lips, cocking an eyebrow.

"Anticipation, darling, you did always know how to draw these things out." You smirk, already over the foreplay, wanting your husband to fill you in every way he can, mind, soul, and body, each way just as delicious as the last.

"How long it's been, not an ounce of patience left in you," he teases, provoking a groan as he licks a long stripe up your throat.

"I've done my waiting," you groan against him, "I think I deserve my reward."

His grin grows wicked, as he takes you in, laid bare under him.

"And I am that reward? Surely such a beautiful maiden would prefer-"

You press your lips to his, interrupting his teasing, refusing to let him play his games for now, needing him atop you, inside you.

You roll him over, thighs pinned around his hips, gazing down at him fondly, relishing the view that you've been denied for a millennium. He smirks at you, continuing to grope and knead your flesh, grabbing your ass and thighs to steady you, leaving deep finger marks that drive you wild as you rock against his crotch.

"My lord," you chuckle as you attempt to unsheathe him, his belt proving a challenge for your trembling fingers. "There are still too many layers between us."

He sits up, reaching for your lips with his fingertips, humming against your skin, his small laugh breaking the tingles down your spine with a shiver.

"Well, my lady, we can't have that..." he murmurs into your abdomen as he journeys down your body.

His lady. A phrase that never failed to delight you, to send tingles of arousal shooting through you. The connotation of your vow to each other. That you were his and he was yours.

At the moment, you have the upper hand, pinned atop him with your body weight as leverage, but you'd sacrifice it in an instant to have him claim you.

You lean back a little, keening under his touch, wanting your skin on his, your souls already singing in a harmony you could never forget, even after all this time.

Every breath you take is from his lungs, grasping at his thick brown curls, savouring every unfamiliar sensation.

Every movement you make sends shockwaves through him; the only pleasure he has known in this body was by his own hand, but his wife back in her rightful place was far sweeter.

He's fucking desperate for you, and you can sense it despite his immaculate self control. Your favourite thing in the world is seeing Sauron lose his mind for the love of you.

"I cannot possibly continue my work if the patient is clothed. I'm afraid I need to conduct a-" you pause, pretending to consider your choice of words- "thorough examination."

He fucking growls at you, deep and low in his chest, and you can't help but grin. You roll off him, only to release him enough to help you out and shimmy his trousers off. Instead he grabs your upper arm, flips you underneath him, smirking with heavily lidded eyes, his hair falling over his face.

"How did I know you would do that?" You laugh, wrapping your legs around him as he strips bare for you, finally.

"One thing I will not allow-" he kisses your neck softly before baring his teeth- "is being called predictable."

He scrapes his teeth against your throat before yanking your head back with your hair, the pain smarting through your scalp obliterated by the feeling of his other hand between your thighs.

"You're so fucking wet for me already," he gasps, rocking into your thigh, his cock weeping on your abdomen.

"I've waited this long, I won't wait any longer." You moan against him, taking his cock in hand, running your thumb over the head.

"No, darling, wait, no-" his strangled pleas fall on deaf ears as you stroke him once, twice, before you force him over the edge.

He worships and curses you in the same breath, wanting nothing more than to spill himself inside you. But you've foiled that plan, for now.

"Too soon-" he chokes out, his pent-up orgasm pouring out of him, surging through him, but doing nothing to quench the thirst he has for you.

You stroke him through his orgasm, kissing him softly, letting him moan into your mouth.

"It's okay, I wanted you to come, love," you whisper in his ear, tracing his chest, running your fingers through his thick black hair. "You needed it, you deserved it-"

He arches his back under your praise, kissing your neck, grasping at your bare back, raking your skin with his blunt fingernails.

After so long apart, with a new mortal form with which to grapple, you had a feeling he'd need release sooner rather than later, needy under your touch after centuries only dreaming of you. Now, with his first orgasm out of the way, you could tease him for longer and get what you'd been craving during your centuries apart.

You pluck at his pleasure like an exposed nerve, drawing every groan, whimper, gasp from his lungs, until he is hard and aching for you again.

He wants so badly to be inside you, to crawl into the space between your flesh and bones, your mind and your soul, to simply relish in the feeling of being home with you.

Thankfully you have the same aching need, pulling him closer with your legs, still wrapped around his waist.

This new body feels strange under your fingers, between your thighs, wrapped around you, coarse hair brushing your torso every time he rocks against you, never mind the hardening length that presses against your core.

"That feels... different." You gasp against him, feeling his smirk against your jaw.

"Different as in bad? Or good, my love?" He raises his eyebrows innocently, as if he is asking you about the weather.

"I could not possibly say," you laugh, "we shall have to try it out to see for certain."

"My sweet wife. Moments ago, you were embarrassed that I saw you relieve your yearning for me," he groans as he circles your clit with the head of his cock, "and now you speak of me as some kind of object for your pleasure."

His faux-sincerity in his scolding is so carefully balanced that for a second, you're unsure if he is actually offended. But you quickly realise he is teasing you when he spreads your cunt, ready for his new thick cock.

A whimper escapes your throat as he teases your folds with his fingers, gathering your wetness to ease his way inside you, stroking his cock, unhurried now that you've relieved him once. You regret that decision now that he draws out giving you your own release.

"Please, love," you stammer out between shaky breaths, rocking your hips against his hand.

"Please, what? Use your words, my darling, tell me what you need." The glint in his eye is dangerous, full of promises of rich reward, but only if you can play his game to the end.

"I need you," you murmur, eyeing him through heavy lids, desperate for any touch he will bestow upon you.

The expression on his face is positively profane, lips parted, a thin ring of green lining his blown pupils, sweaty brown hair falling in his eyes. He wets his lips as you watch his tongue enviously. Oh, to be those lips, his tool for such pleasure. And pain.

"Need me how, love? Be specific." His tone becomes harsher as he reaches for your chin, to impress upon you that you will not get what you crave unless you beg for it.

You keen and moan under him, but he is steadfast, stroking himself while he gazes down at you with such longing, such fondness that even in the throes of your desire, your heart sings for him in harmony with his.

"Love, please-" you whine, your vehement desire to be one with him again overtaking your senses completely; it has been a thousand years, too many lifetimes, and he teases you like this?

"Please, what? I need you to tell me what you long for." He enunciates every syllable, the cadence of his unfamiliar accent falling like sweet summer rain around you, his silver tongue plaguing you with its sweet promises, if only you can find your words.

"Need you, need to be close to you, need you inside me, need-"

He interrupts you with his fingers at your entrance, forcing a sharp gasp from your lungs at the sudden intrusion.

"Is that better, my sweet? Is that everything you crave?" You'd give anything to kiss away the self-satisfied smirk that graces his lips, but he holds you down with one hand splayed on your torso as he begins to spread you open to his velvet touch.

You shudder as he lightly strokes your folds, delving in with a finger to make you gasp, working his way to two, then three, whilst grasping the flesh under his other hand almost painfully, grounding himself in your body.

If he could just open you up and slither into the space between your ribs, nestled beside your heart, to do nothing but listen to it beat for eternity, he is sure he would be content.

You arch your back into his touch, trying to work yourself onto his fingers, but he pulls away too quickly for you to find any relief.

"Ah, my love, that would be too easy, would it not?" A smile tugs at his lips, but Sauron fixes his expression into one more akin to concern, perhaps even pity.

"Tell me, love, tell me what you crave." He is drunk on the power he has over you, intoxicated by the goddess writhing under his fingertips, so eagerly in his thrall.

After a thousand years parted from you, it is taking so very much self-control to keep from ravaging you, but he wants to savour every moment, wants to hear it from your lips, your sweet surrender to his control.

"Need you inside me, need you, my love, it's been so long, please take me, I'm yours." His eyes blaze as you struggle through every word, as your breath hitches and your legs shake, his fingers unrelenting in his slow torture of your cunt.

"You are mine - and I am yours." His vow is made through ragged breath as he leans down to claim your lips hungrily, your wetness allowing him to rut his cock between your thighs, so tightly pressed together, that he sees stars.

Sauron kisses at your neck, sucking and biting, sure to leave dark bruises that will not be easily covered tomorrow. Claiming what is his, and his alone.

He pulls your hips to his, forcing your thighs apart, laying his cock on your mound. He is bigger now than he was all those eons ago; he is frankly fascinated as to how you will take him, but he knows you'll take it all for him.

You squirm under him, pushing your hips to his, desperate for him to take you, patience wearing thin for his teasing now.

As if he senses you are at the end of your tether, he smirks, adjusting himself to set the head of his cock at your entrance.

"Please... Mairon, please, I need you." You know what you're doing when you use his true name, know that he won't be able to stop himself from ravishing you, breaking any semblance of self-control.

With a groan, he presses his body impossibly close to yours, sliding inside you, forcing all the air from your lungs as you feel his girth fill you so sweetly, so completely. He draws your legs up to press himself deeper inside you, his hips rocking against yours, rougher and more erratic than he has ever been but satisfying every desire in your core.

Running your fingers up his strong forearms, feeling the muscles tense and flex with each thrust, you grind back into him, whimpering and pleading for more. More what, exactly? You're not sure, but you know you need everything he is willing to give you.

And he wants to give you the world.

Centuries apart, thinking of little else but each other, it is hardly any surprise that you are both ravenous in body and soul, your love and lust building to a towering inferno to spite the gods who would see you parted.

When he feels you tighten around him, he pulls back from devouring your mouth to stare agape at your blissful expression as you ride your high, awestruck that he has you in his arms again. It is that awe that pushes him over the edge again, pulsing inside you, clutching at every inch of bare skin he can reach, your torso pressed against his as he holds you both upright, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear as you quake against him.

Breathing heavily, lying entwined in the tiny infirmary cot, the two of you fall into quiet, intimate bliss. Holding each other close, you let the world fall away until it is just the two of you, the calm in the other's storm.

"I told you. Predictable." You chuckle, your laugh reverberating through his chest, sending tingles down his spine.

"Perhaps predictability is not such a bad thing. When it comes to you, at least." He continues to stroke your hair, giving you a tiny squeeze as if to make sure you were no illusion.

One thing that is predictable, even certain, is that he will be parted from you soon enough. It always happens, even after Morgoth’s defeat, and the notion is enough to send a chill down your spine.

He senses your discomfort, knows what you're thinking immediately without needing to probe your mind for once.

"I am here, beloved, let us enjoy what we have now, and worry for tomorrow when fate reveals itself." He hides his trepidation better than you do, but he pulls you closer all the same.

You look up at him, fingers tracing his chest softly, reaching for his free hand. He grants it to you, would grant you anything in the cosmos if you only asked it of him.

His palm at your lips, you breathe him in before looking back up at him, his dark green eyes alight with the love of ages. The words you whisper next shatter his heart, the edges of your souls knitting together more completely with every yearning wish woven into your plea.

"I beg you, Mairon, for the love of all that is good and pure in this world, please stay with me."

The way his eyes crease and his face lights up with the widest smile, it wrenches your heart, a pain so sweet and pure you would carry it for a thousand years more to keep him at your side.

"For the love of you then."

#sauron x reader #halbrand x reader #annatar x reader #the rings of power #my fic #not a kronk meme reference (kudos to whoever finds it lmfao)#no for real please let me know if you find it i will die laughing

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socksracoon10 · 11 months ago

Text

Being best friends with Legolas

Headcanons below the cut!

Legolas and you are probably inseparable.

I mean let's be real here, when it comes to friendship, Legolas values it so much.

You're practically family to him.

And you think the world of him.

90% sure as young elves, you two would spend all day in the woods and play tag, practice archery or just run around and laugh about something.

hang out in the trees, swing from tree to tree.

usually you'd instigate the tomfoolery (as Thranduil would point out) and Legolas would just follow you with a soft smile because though he's not very expressive, it's super clear that he loves to just hang out with you.

Yeah, Thranduil ain't too happy about that, though. But then again, when has he EVER been happy after his wife passed away?

It's obviously no surprise that when everyone's gathered in Rivendell at the secret council with Elrond that you volunteered to go with Legolas.

Wasn't really a favored choice, though, considering that Elrond gave you the side-eye and Gimli almost lost his mind at the thought of having to deal with not just one, but TWO elves.

Poor dwarf's wringing his hands in the air, and swinging his axe around.

Doesn't sway Legolas's opinion, he's ecstatic about the fact that not only were you joining The Fellowship to get rid of the One Ring (an important task) but you were going to be able to hang out with him even more?

The past few years the two of you hadn't seen each other since he had been with Aragorn, but this was a prime opportunity!

You'd probably eat Lembas bread with him and chat about how your life has been since you've grown up

Not much time for your usual shenanigans and the dynamic has quite shifted since you were young

Rather than trying to do something for the sake of adventure, you were going on an adventure for the sake of saving Middle Earth.

Yeah, BIG change.

And Legolas, being the best friend you could ask for, would certainly help you along the way, guide you through the quest and still be that kind soul you knew when you were young.

You could tell him anything, and he'd listen intently

your own personal little therapist and he'd listen to you rant about something

and he's ALWAYS interest to hear what you have to say, even if it's in the middle of fighting a bunch of orcs or Nazguls.

Y'all got each other's backs ALL the time.

I mean ALL the time.

When Legolas and Gimli are having a face-off at Helm's deep, best believe you're killing these orcs alongside him

"That's not fair! You can't just add your kills together!" Gimli would cry out

"Ah, but you forget, we're practically the same... one in soul," you'd reply with a cheeky grin.

Legolas would totally grin back as Gimli's losing his mind.

The banter?

Insane.

You're more forward than Legolas, so you're quick to tease Gimli whenever an opportunity comes up. Legolas is more subtle, finding only a few moments to tease the dwarf

but when he does? yeah roasted

Both of you teaming up against Gimli for fun sometimes, hunting together, making plans

Safe to say that when Legolas leaves for the Undying Lands with Gimli, he brings you as well.

Just the three of you guys, on a boat, talking about life and making tons of jokes

Best friends, side by side, with no worries at all.

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

Text

You're Safe With Me [Chapter Six]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.8k

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of chapters for You're Safe With Me here.]

a/n: Finally we get the next chapter! There's a surprise in this one; can y'all catch it? Things are starting to get even more interesting...and dangerous, maybe. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @lunaticgurly @allaboardthereadingrailroad @linamarr @hollandorks @sleeperthelazy @marcysbear @mattkinsella @mattmurdocksstarlight @xxdrixx @v4leoftears @aoi-targaryen @danzer8705 @anon-cat-posts @heimtathurs @kmc1989 @thepunisherfrankcastle @agirlcandream84 @americaarse @desert-fern @youmakelovinfun @callmebrooklynbabes @jooheoniesdimples

"What are you doing?" you asked in confusion.

Looking out of the front windshield, you watched as Frank pulled off onto the exit ramp on the side of the interstate. Frowning, you glanced over at him in the driver's seat beside you. He was focused on the road, his face set in his typical flat and stern expression as he drove with one hand on the wheel. His other arm was resting against the window beside him, his hand absently running across the firm set of his lips.

"Takin' a detour," he replied simply, eyes remaining fixed ahead.

"A detour to where?" you pressed.

Frank’s attention shifted to you for a moment, his eyes briefly scanning the inquisitive look on your face before his focus returned back to the road. Eyebrows rising up onto your forehead, you impatiently waited for a response of some sort from him–anything at all–but he remained mute. Not even a grunt of acknowledgement.

With an irritated huff you glanced back out of the windshield, noticing the van was now gradually rolling to a stop at a stop sign. Eyeing the shops and gas stations around the area, you were still confused as to what would make Frank take a sudden detour. You thought he'd said this morning that he was trying to put as much distance between you and what had happened back at that motel you’d been ambushed at the other night as fast as he could. He wanted to make it as difficult as possible for the Patriot Militia to pick back up on your trail.

So what the hell was he doing stopping? It was still a bit before dinnertime and therefore still earlier than when he usually stopped for a motel. A look at the van's gas gauge showed you that the tank was just over half full. If he was stopping for a bathroom break he usually just said so because he always warned you not to 'fuck around,' always eager to just get back on the road.

And really, you couldn't have him stopping. Not here. Not right now. Not after yesterday.

"A detour to where ?" you pressed further.

"To Walmart," he finally answered.

One of your brows quirked up onto your forehead at the simple response. As if a detour to Walmart was the most obvious thing in the world right now while you were driving state to state with the Punisher trying to stay alive. When he predictably didn’t elaborate, you pushed for more information.

"What's at Walmart?" you questioned.

Frank’s focus remained on the road as he drove, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "You need a phone in case of emergency," he replied, his tone a bit clipped. "And I'm guessin' you need some things since you left your place so quick." He shot you a look over his shoulder as he added, "You don't even have a coat. It's gettin' cold in some of the places we're driving through."

At his response, you sat in the passenger seat completely stunned, entirely forgetting about your current location and the shooting you'd seen on the news last night for the first time today. He was making a detour just for you ? So you could get things you needed because you hadn't had a chance to properly pack before you'd slipped out of your house?

"You're taking me shopping?" you asked incredulously.

Frank shot you a firm, stony look as he pulled up to a stoplight. "Let’s get one thing straight right now. I am not taking you shopping, Spunky," he snapped. "It's a Walmart, not a goddamn mall. You're going to quickly grab whatever the hell it is you need while I grab you a prepay. This isn't a fun stop. Got it?"

You nodded, still in shock that Frank was actually taking the time to do this for you, even if Walmart was not the first place you'd want to stop and buy clothes at. But if you were being honest, with the way he'd been treating you so far, you figured you'd be begging him to let you find a laundromat just to wash the few clothing items you had. Yet here he was letting you grab some necessities–and you certainly were going to make sure you grabbed some tampons while you were there.

The light turned green and Frank continued to drive, turning farther up ahead and navigating his way to the nearby Walmart. Your eyes were staring out of the windshield as your mind raced, quickly trying to make a mental list of everything you needed while attempting to ignore other thoughts. You weren't about to test Frank's patience; you were sure he wasn't kidding about not wanting you to spend a lot of time there so you had to prioritize what you absolutely needed.

A few minutes later he'd pulled the van into a parking spot in the Walmart parking lot, your eyes still glued to the window as you took in the sight of all the other parked cars around you. Frank cut the engine before shifting in his seat, the movement of him reaching towards the center console and grabbing his wallet catching your eye. Wordlessly he opened it, pulling out a stack of bills and counting some out. Folding the stack in half, he held it out towards you and you froze in your seat, eyeing the cash.

"Take it," he ordered. "It's two hundred. Should be more than enough for a coat and a few things. Can't have you usin' a credit card or anything for them to track."

For a moment you just stared at the cash, feeling awkward about taking it but also increasingly aware that it meant you and him would be splitting up inside the store. Nerves shook loose in your stomach as that realization fully hit you, but when he held the cash out further towards you with an irritated grunt, you hesitantly reached out, accepting it from his hand. Though it still felt weird taking the money from him even if he'd told you that this little road trip was being funded by the government.

"Should probably get yourself a hat and some sunglasses," Frank added. "To help disguise yourself. Might be useful at some point while we're running."

"Okay," you replied softly, mentally adding it to your checklist.

Frank held your eye, his stare making you a little uncomfortable with how hard it was. Especially with the way your palms had begun to sweat at the thought of him not being right beside you in the store. Ever since he'd tossed you into the back of the van at Ruby’s Diner he hadn't left your side for longer than a quick bathroom break.

"We don't have long," Frank told you. "I'll give you twenty minutes. Get the necessities. Take a piss. Meet me at that exit–" he said, gesturing to the doors nearby, "–in exactly twenty minutes. No later."

"But what if–"

"No later," he reiterated firmly.

"Alright, Sunshine," you grumbled, unbuckling your seatbelt.

Opening the van door, you slipped out of the seat and onto the pavement, pocketing the cash and carefully surveying the parking lot around you yet again. There were a handful of parked cars–about the amount you'd expect in a small town a little after two in the afternoon on a Monday–but no one was wandering around outside. Though that didn't stop the prickle of fear beginning to form low in your gut as you anxiously hugged your arms around yourself, increasingly becoming more nervous.

You knew exactly where you were right now. Ever since you and Frank had gotten on the road this morning and left the Happy Lodger Motel, you'd made a point to pay attention to the road signs and read the maps posted at the rest area stops. You were currently on the outskirts of Harrisonburg, Virginia. Which was very near Glen Allen–the place where the shooting had happened just yesterday afternoon. Meaning you were currently very near recent Patriot Militia activity.

And Frank had no idea.

Frank's form appearing around the front of the van startled you, causing you to jump on the spot. His eyes narrowed at you curiously as he paused mid-step. He had clearly caught the way you'd frightened just now. You knew that he'd noticed something had been going on with you today with the way he kept watching you with those perceptive eyes of his. He had asked you a couple of times now if you were alright, but you'd always simply lied and answered yes. He hadn’t said anything past that, but the way he continued to silently stare at you with a look of disbelief on his face was unnerving. It was as if he was waiting for the right time to pull the information out of you.

Truthfully you knew you probably needed to tell him exactly what was going on because clearly Madani hadn't told him much herself. If there was possible danger nearby, you knew he should be made aware of it. For both your sakes. But Frank was still hard for you to read. Would he think you were far more trouble than you were worth to protect if he knew the full story? If he knew what was actually going on? Is that why Madani hadn't already told him herself? Because as much as you didn't like the killing he did, you had to admit, you'd be dead without him. You needed him. You couldn't have him bolt on you and leave you an unprotected target for an entire militia with members that spanned the countryside.

The thought of you on your own without Frank had your fists curling around the fabric of your shirt, arms hugging your chest a bit tighter. You were too terrified right now to question when your fear of Frank had shifted to a fear of losing him in just a matter of days.

"You good?"

Drawn back to the moment, your eyes darted over towards Frank. He was standing there with that hard to read expression on his face, but it felt like he was seeing right through you. He knew you weren't good. But instead of telling him the truth, that fear of him abandoning you to fend for yourself in a Walmart parking lot so close to a place you knew there were militia members, you simply nodded and hummed out an affirmative. Frank's eyes narrowed further, his lips thinning out. You forced a smile onto your mouth, but even you could feel how tense it was.

Without another word, Frank turned and headed towards the entrance of the store. Sucking in a deep breath you followed after him, each step further increasing your panic. By the time the pair of you stepped inside, Frank was gruffly reminding you that you had twenty minutes to meet him back here before he walked off. And then you were alone and fully panicking.

Ducking your head, you tried to keep your breathing even as you hurried towards your right. You were going to try to focus on why you were here and not on where you were. Attempting to remain calm, you prioritized grabbing tampons first because the thought of asking Frank to stop and let you buy some later was absolutely mortifying.

For a few minutes you navigated the Walmart, trying to orient yourself and read the aisle signs as you went. The store was massive and all the aisles looming above you felt suffocating right now. Internally you kept repeating the items you needed, listing them off in your head as you tried to ignore the racing of your heart and the way your breath was starting to come in faster each time someone in the store made eye contact with you.

You wished you could say you felt safe in the semi-busy public place, but you knew better. The Patriot Militia clearly had no qualms with opening fire in public and killing innocent people. The only place you felt safe anymore was at Frank's side. But as your jaw clenched tight, you fought the surge of fear roiling in your stomach at the reminder that Frank wasn't by your side right now.

Grabbing the box of tampons from the shelf, your hand nearly crushing the side of it with how tight you were holding on to it, you turned and headed back out of the aisle. You needed to find a hat, sunglasses, and a winter coat. If you had time, you'd find a few more clothing items for cold or hot weather. Since you and Frank were going to be all over the country, you knew you needed to be prepared for all types of weather wherever you found yourself with him.

As you continued your shopping, trying to keep track of the time with a clock that was on the wall just past the registers, you felt that gnawing guilt since watching that news segment last night at the bar return to you. Somehow it crept its way past the fear still holding you in a vice and you suddenly froze, overcome with that guilt that had been steadily chipping away at you all day until it abruptly drowned you in it. Your hand fiercely clutched the hanger of the tee-shirt you were holding, your left arm crushing the other items you had to your chest as the thoughts hit you again all at once.

You'd heard them talking about Glen Allen at the Patriot Militia rally where this whole nightmare had begun. At the time, the city hadn't rung any bells in your mind because nothing had happened there. But you'd told Madani about it and your fears, and you knew she'd obviously heard it mentioned on the recording you'd sent her. But still, the shooting still happened. People had still been injured and killed. The proof of that was on the news last night at the bar you'd been at with Frank. And somehow it felt like it was partially your fault for not doing more to stop it. For not finding a way to warn everyone in Glen Allen or finding a way to stop the shooters ahead of time instead of just running and hiding and saving yourself.

Your hand began to shake, gripping the hanger even tighter in your fist. Your breath was coming in even faster and sharper now than it had when Frank had initially parted ways with you at the store entrance. Eyes closing, you tried to fight the lightheadedness washing over you. But the longer you stood there, guilt and fear mingling together and clawing at your mind as it spiraled further, the more you felt yourself freeze up and your feet root themselves to the floor.

You weren't going to survive this. Eventually these people would find you and kill you. And all the deaths and terror they caused before and after that would partially land at your feet. You were a news anchor, you could have reported this. Tried to stop them somehow. Maybe even told Frank ahead of time and been in Glen Allen and he might have been able to stop them.

But you'd done nothing instead.

Your hand tightened so hard around the hanger that you felt it snap in your fist. Feeling like you could barely breathe, your eyes clenched closed tighter as your thoughts continued to spiral further and further, your chest constricting firmly around your lungs and your heart. You were hyperventilating now, having a panic attack in the middle of the Walmart.

Something grasped onto your shoulder and you gasped, eyes flying open. Frank was standing just beside you, concern written clear across his features. Those warm, dark brown eyes of his were boring into you, but instead of fear, you felt relief flood you at the sight of him.

"C'mon," he urged softly, gesturing his head towards the registers. "Let's get your things and go."

He gently pried the shirt you'd been holding onto–the one you'd snapped the hanger on–from your hands. And then slowly, he carefully took all of the items from you without a word before making his way towards the registers. You followed after him easily, the promise of safety in his presence quickly quelling the panic in your mind as your breathing became less shallow.

Once again you'd wrapped your arms around your chest, nervously hugging yourself as you stood next to Frank. He was focused on ringing up all of the items you’d had, his face expressionless as he used the self-checkout. You were far too relieved that he’d found you when he did to care that he was currently ringing up your box of tampons.

After he’d bagged all of your items into three bags, Frank grabbed them all into one hand before he turned towards you. His left hand reached out, landing on the middle of your back and surprising you with the touch. Gently he began to guide you out of the store without a word, though you knew plenty of them were soon coming. For now you focused on keeping in step with him, surprised to discover yourself relaxing even further underneath that large, warm palm of his on the center of your back.

It was a minute before you were both back at the van, Frank opening the back doors of it and setting your bags onto the floor of the vehicle. You had significantly calmed down in his presence and under his gentle, reassuring touch by now. Whether Frank had noticed that was unclear because he had quickly focused his attention on a cellphone he had retrieved from one of the bags, typing away on it as he sat down on the edge of the van.

"You gonna tell me what's actually goin' on now?" Frank asked, breaking the silence as he continued to focus on the phone in his hands. "Or you just gonna keep pretending you're alright?"

Exhaling a breath, you leant up against the side of the van opposite him, your eyes continuing to survey the parking lot. Thankfully the pair of you still seemed to be alone. Though you figured Frank was currently more aware of your surroundings than even you were despite it appearing that he was currently distracted.

"Wondered when you'd push," you whispered.

"Been in your head and jumpy ever since you saw that news story at the bar last night," Frank observed. "That story that upset you and made you want to leave last night." He glanced up from the phone, holding your gaze. "Guessin' that shooting’s got something to do with why you're on the run from this militia. Got me thinkin' there's some things I should probably know that you're not tellin’ me."

Guiltily you focused down on your shoes. Of course he’d picked up on all of that. Frank was smart and perceptive.

"Madani told you I'm running from the Patriot Militia then?" you asked softly.

"Said you accidentally stumbled on some information that proves they're a terrorist organization," he replied, attention returning to the phone. "And that there's some big names involved in the mess, too. Making it so she can't trust everyone in Homeland and any other federal departments."

"Yeah," you admitted nervously, looking up at him through your lashes. "That–that shooting on the news last night? That was them. The militia."

Frank's hands momentarily paused what they were doing, his jaw tightening as he glared at the cell phone in his hand. A second later he locked the phone screen, his attention entirely shifting to you now as his hands lowered to his lap. There was a hard set to his eyes, but you could also see the way he was trying to piece things together with that soft furrow between his dark brows.

"The shooter?" Frank clarified.

"Yeah," you told him with a nod. "Things must not have gone as planned because the shooter was apprehended by police, but he was supposed to be shot by a bystander. Like some of those other shootings going on around the country lately." Feeling your guilt beginning to creep back into your mind, you could feel the sting of tears in your eyes as you continued. "The–the bystanders who shoot the assailants in these mass shootings are also Patriot Militia members. It's all planned out, meant to paint them as heroes for carrying a gun and using it for protection. The others–martyrs for their cause."

"To push some rich political bastard's agenda, I assume?" Frank asked. “Considering there’s federal officials involved in this.”

" Many rich political bastards' agendas," you replied, nodding. "But I–I overheard them talking about Glen Allen, Virginia at that rally. I knew they were going to hit that city somewhere like this and it's–it's my fault it wasn't stopped. Its my fault–"

"Stop," Frank said firmly. "Stop it."

You froze, mouth still half open as you stared back at Frank. He was shaking his head as he looked back at you, his expression softer than it had been a minute ago.

"'S'not your fault," he repeated. "What those assholes are doing is not on you. You did what you could–you took this to Madani. She's dealing with this now."

"But I'm a news anchor," you continued, the tears further building in your eyes. "I could have gone on the news. Warned people. Outed them. Something more than just running and hiding."

"Doubt your station would let you air that," Frank told you. "And you'd have only ended up with a bullet right here," he said, pressing a finger to his forehead, just between his eyes. "Because you'd have had them on you instantly. If there's big names involved in this, I can guarantee you there's worse out there looking for you than these half-assed organized militia members, Spunky. People like me. Maybe worse. You’d have had them on your doorstep so goddamn fast if you’d have taken this public."

And that was what did it. The thought that there was possibly something or someone worse than an entire militia after you right now sent the tears running down your cheeks, hot and wet. Frank winced when he spotted them, running a hand across the top of his head.

"Shit, I didn't mean to scare you," he said. "'M'sorry. I just meant this isn't on you. You're doing your part to try to stop them. You can't control what those assholes are doing out there."

"Except you're probably right, though," you choked out. "There probably are others out there after me right now. And I–I can’t outrun them forever. Not if they’re all out looking for me.”

Almost immediately that tightness in your chest returned and you pushed off of the van, turning your back to Frank and burying your face in your hands. You couldn’t fight the sobs that wracked through you, ashamed that you were breaking down like this in front of Frank. But his words had set a new fear loose in you, one that felt like it confirmed the fact that you were on borrowed time.

Tentative hands were on your shoulders, your body going rigid at the touch. The tears continued to stream down your cheeks behind your hands, but you tried your best to hold back your sobs, though they kept coming out in strangled hiccups.

“Hey, hey,” Frank’s soothing voice said, his hands on your shoulders very gradually pulling you in towards himself. “You’re alright. Everything’ll be alright.”

“They’re going to kill me,” you breathed out, your hands muffling your words.

“No they won’t,” Frank said firmly. “I won’t let them. They’d have to get through me first. And I’m a stubborn asshole.”

You couldn’t resist the laugh that slipped out of your lips, Frank’s deep chuckle that followed somehow soothing. Slowly you lowered your hands down your face, the tears beginning to fall a little slower. Frank had somehow wrapped you in his arms, one of his hands soothingly rubbing back and forth across your upper back. The feel of it had you relaxing into him, though it didn’t help that you were now quickly becoming aware of your proximity to him.

“Told you I’d keep you safe,” Frank murmured. “And I’m gonna do that. You’re gonna help Madani take these assholes down. And I’m gonna make damn sure you’re alive for that. You hear me, Spunky?”

A slow smile spread across your lips at his words. You nodded, your forehead brushing lightly against his firm chest as you did.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Good,” he stated, unwinding his arms from around you.

He turned back towards the van, grabbing the cell phone he’d set down when he’d gotten up to comfort you. With his back turned for a moment, you hurriedly wiped the back of your hands over your cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears that had fallen. If you were being honest, you were still terrified of the nameless and faceless people out there after you, but Frank’s determination and confidence to keep you alive was certainly comforting.

“Here,” Frank said, turning back around and holding out the phone to you. ��Already programmed mine and Madani’s number in there. Don’t think you’ll ever need it, but just in case you do, you have it.”

“Thank you,” you said.

Reaching out, you accepted the phone from his outstretched hand. Your other hand slipped into the pocket of your jeans, pulling out the cash he’d given you earlier. When Frank saw it he immediately shook his head, waving a hand at it.

“No, keep it,” he told you. “Probably makes sense you have some cash on you in case we’re ever separated.” When he saw the way your eyes widened he immediately added, “Which we won’t be, but it’s better to take precautions. Don’t need you stranded somewhere without money, right?”

“Right,” you whispered weakly, slowly returning the cash to your pocket.

Frank’s eyes narrowed at you for a moment, studying your tear stained face. You noticed his expression wasn’t as hard as it usually was at the moment.

“How far from that shooting are we?” he asked curiously. “I’m guessin’ you’re aware.”

“Less then two hours away,” you answered instantly.

Frank let out a grunt at your response before he turned, closing the doors to the van with two solid bangs that echoed in your ears. Your eyes followed his movements as you stood there quietly, grateful that the urge to cry in front of him again had disappeared for the moment. Though at some point you knew you were going to have to unpack whatever that unexpected moment with him was when he had yet again comforted you.

“Next time, tell me this information,” Frank said, turning around and facing you. “That’s the kind of shit that I need to know to keep us both alive.”

“I was–was worried you’d think this whole thing was too big for you to want to deal with,” you admitted awkwardly. “Was afraid if I told you that you’d…leave.”

Frank’s eyes fell closed, his expression briefly looking pained. A second later his eyes opened again, focusing back on you. The look in them was almost pleading when he spoke.

“I’m not gonna leave you behind,” he assured you. “Can you just–just please trust me on that? I’m here to see this through to the end with you.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay,” Frank confirmed. He gestured his head at the front of the van. “Get in. I’m gonna drive a bit in the opposite direction before we grab an early dinner and a motel. We’ll be on the road first thing tomorrow morning and puttin’ as much distance between us and this Glen Allen as we can. Alright?”

You nodded again in response. “Alright,” you agreed.

“Let’s get the hell outta here, then,” he said, turning and making his way towards the driver’s side.

Silently you made your way over to the passenger side, suddenly realizing that you were beginning to really trust Frank. And maybe you were even beginning to like him a bit.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Standing beside Frank in the motel lobby, your hands held the greasy bag of fast food that you’d both picked up just before stopping at this shady little motel, your duffle bag slung over your shoulder. Just like he’d said he would, Frank had driven a couple of hours in the opposite direction of Glen Allen, trying to put more distance between you both and that city. The pair of you were planning to get a room and call it an early night in the hopes of getting back on the road early tomorrow morning and putting even more distance between you and here.

Though neither of you had expected to be waiting in a line at this motel, something you could tell was irritating Frank with the way he kept impatiently running a hand across his mouth. You also noticed it wasn’t just you who’d been eyeing the young blonde with the long curls that were pulled into a pony-tail booking a room in front of you with interest, either. Frank had also been curiously eyeing her, something like concern written on his face. She looked barely eighteen–if she even was–and that combined with her staying in a place like this was admittedly strange and a little worrying. You couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she was doing here.

As if she could feel the weight of both sets of eyes on her, she glanced over her shoulder back at you with distrust on her face as the woman behind the desk filled out some paperwork. The blonde’s eyes narrowed, especially when they landed on Frank just at your side. She gave him a quick once over, her nose wrinkling in distaste as she did.

“What’re you looking at, rough road?” she snapped.

“What?” Frank asked her, head cocking to the side as surprise washed over his features.

“Why don’t you stop staring at me?” she shot before abruptly turning back around.

Frank’s attention shifted towards you as he sent you a look of confusion at the interaction, his dark brows pulling together. You shrugged wordlessly in response, shaking your head at him. Though you had to admit, part of you wanted to laugh at her comment. Not even knowing who Frank was, he already looked intimidating as hell for someone like her to just say something so brazenly.

It was a minute later that the girl had grabbed her key from the woman behind the desk, turning and storming off out of the motel lobby, giving you and Frank a wide berth as she went. Frank briefly watched her leave, a frown on his face before he returned his focus on the woman behind the desk who was looking rather bored.

“Can we get a room?” he asked, approaching the desk and pulling out his wallet. “Two queen beds.”

The woman immediately began to shake her head at him. “Uh uh. Don’t have any more of those,” she replied, gesturing a hand at the door. “She just took the last one for her and her father. All I’ve got is a single queen left.”

You heard Frank swear under his breath, running a hand in frustration through his short hair before he reluctantly agreed to take it. As he paid for the room, you nervously clutched the bag of food tighter in your hands, wondering what having only one bed was ultimately going to mean in a place like this. A moment later the woman was handing Frank the room key before you were following after him out of the motel lobby, silently making your way past the rows of doors while looking for room eleven.

As you approached the door behind Frank, you watched as he stuck the key inside and unlocked it. Awkwardly you stepped into the room after him, your eyes immediately falling on the single queen bed in the center of the space. Glancing around, you noticed that the only other piece of furniture was a very uncomfortable looking armchair and a small table beside it.

“You can take the bed,” Frank said, closing and locking the door after himself.

“And where do you plan to sleep?” you asked, looking over at him.

Frank turned, taking in the room himself. His mouth pressed into a firm line before he gestured to the armchair.

“I’ll just sleep here tonight,” he answered.

“That thing looks way too small for you,” you pointed out.

“Then I’ll sleep on the floor,” Frank shot out with a shrug. “Don’t care.”

Your eyes dropped down to the worn and very dirty motel carpet. You weren’t entirely sure what color it had been initially with how faded and stained it was. You cringed at the thought of him laying down and sleeping on it. Gradually your eyes returned to the single bed as Frank shrugged out of his coat, laying it along the back of the chair.

“We could…share the bed,” you said awkwardly, not entirely sure why you were suggesting that idea.

Frank stiffened beside the armchair at your words, his head slowly turning back towards you. One of his dark brows rose onto his forehead as he studied you questioningly for a long moment.

“You sure you’re good with that?” he asked.

Feeling heat creep into your cheeks, you stepped over to the coffee table and set the bag of food down onto it before dropping your duffle bag to the floor. “I mean I trust you’re not going to do anything other than sleep,” you muttered. “You’re doing all the driving and–” you broke off, shuddering as you continued, “–protecting. You need to get decent sleep. I’d give you the bed and sleep somewhere else, but…admittedly I don’t really want to sleep on that floor or that chair, either. So…we could just share the bed?”

Hesitantly you glanced over at Frank beside the chair, anxiously chewing the inside of your cheek as you waited for his response. He was still studying you with one of his usual impossible to decipher expressions on his face. Eventually you saw him give a single nod in answer.

“Alright,” he agreed. “If you’re sure. Should probably eat though and get to sleep. I want to get outta here early tomorrow.”

With a sigh you turned, opening the bag of fast food and grabbing the chicken sandwich you’d ordered out of it before making your way to the edge of the bed to eat. As Frank rooted around in the bag for his burger, your eyes lingered on the muscles in his back and the way his shirt was straining against his thick arms. For a brief moment you wondered how it would feel to curl yourself around his hard body in that bed tonight, having him wrap those strong arms around you while he comforted you yet again.

Though you quickly shoved that thought aside, blinking rapidly as you averted your gaze, beginning to unwrap your chicken sandwich. You were both just going to sleep in that bed tonight, and whatever those thoughts were that you occasionally found yourself having about Frank needed to stop.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle #frank castle angst #the punisher

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itsgrimeytime · 2 years ago

Text

Maneater (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Dialogue Prompts: "Don’t play friendly with me." + "Try me."

Summary: You and Rick Grimes had a backstory, one no one knew except you and him. It's one you refused to share, you never really wanted to get into it. All anyone needed to know was you hated the man. When you're in a rough spot, and you could use the shelter the question is... does he hate you?

TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, angst, a touch of abandonment, grudges, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: y'all ever heard of TENSION?? Or enemies to lovers??? Because I'll tell you what, I have :))) Lowkey, you have a good reason to hate Rick, but like... you'll see. also I am living in delusion for what Rick looked like in the Alexandria timeline, so just know I picture the gif, okay? Thx <3 ]]

Before you go thinking this is another long series, this is just a two/maybe three-parter. There was more to this idea than what I felt I could naturally convey in one one-shot. So, let me know if you want to be tagged for the continuation.

"Shit."

This really, truly, was never supposed to happen. This was the worst-case scenario, the kind of thing that plagued your dreams with things that were so not probable they shouldn't be scary. And yet here you were, in nightmare territory.

"Y/N? Really, is that- is that you?" the familiar face spoke -Glenn, you realized now.

God, it had been so long, you'd thought for sure at least half of that group had vanished.

Well, maybe they had. You weren't exactly sure, but Glenn hadn't really looked worse for wear. He suited the lifestyle well, actually, which you were a little impressed by -the pizza delivery guy had come a long way.

"We thought you..." he faltered off, still a bit in disbelief.

"Died? Nope," you finished, bitter, sure, but you'd never really had the chance to get over it, "-despite your wonderful leader's best efforts, I remain unscathed."

Glenn frowned.

The joy from moments before dissipated in the now fairly tense air between the two of you -others you recognized weren't there, but you imagined they were wherever he came from. Which you were currently trying to keep in the very back of your mind -you'd never follow him to them, you just couldn't.

"I should've..." he began, words seeming to come to a stop, "-Any of us should've stuck up for you. It wasn't right."

There was a bit of pleasure hearing that, somewhere deep in your chest, you appreciated it. But while the idea was good, it was very much too late. The resentment that had developed in your chest, had only solidified there -unbreakable and set in stone. You hadn't trusted a soul since, not fully anyway.

This world was filled with broken hearts, and yours was one of them.

And that was something Rick and his group had to live with, whoever they were now because that... was their fault.

You hadn't meant to hate Rick Grimes specifically, above everyone else, but the words came out of his mouth.

'Get out of here, we can't... we can't have a group this divided.'

You could still see him now in your head, clean-shaven and dressed in his uniform, taking the world by storm despite not knowing what the fuck he was doing. You were different then, scared but ready to do what you needed -hell, the first time you'd ever even held a gun was against a walker. It was with that group, they'd taught you.

You swallowed down the bile in your throat, and pushed through the rubble -your feet ached from being on the move for so long. You couldn't remember the last time you slept, or even sat down.

You couldn't not in this world, it was all about motion, about survival, about getting through the next few hours at a time.

"Look, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be," Glenn began -following you close behind, "-but we have a place... It's safe, you could sleep. You could eat. There are houses, hot water-"

You froze in place, the idea spreading a sort of warmth in your chest, something you'd forgotten somewhere along the path. Hope. Yet, there was still a sting there -deep under your skin, "Glenn-"

"It doesn't have to be forever," he added, and now that you looked at him, he did seem clean -his clothes washed and the desperation that dusted your skin was so distant you could hardly see it, "-just for a few days."

Feet frozen to the spot, you exhaled -the breath shaking you to the root, it had been so long, but how could you trust him? How could you trust any of them?

You remembered Glenn had looked hesitant, that day, his own suspicion drawn in his eyebrows but it hadn't gone farther than that. He hadn't said a word. No one had. But now, he was here offering solace, safety. And you knew it wasn't just out of pity.

The world had enough of that on its own. You had enough of that on your own, your story spilling to listening ears -they'd all been the same. Still, you could use a break.

And as much as you didn't trust the group, whatever it had become, you knew that if anyone had survived this long -they'd been skilled. Skilled enough for you to breathe, for you to close your eyes and sleep.

You sighed, wiping the sleep from your eyes, or rather the lack of, "Just a few days?"

"As long as you need," Glenn reiterated, somehow conveying that you never had to leave, it was a small thing. But comforting.

"I get to decide when to leave?"

Glenn frowned, his own body almost shrinking in on itself, disappointment. You'd never thought you'd see this, someone from so long ago -the regret, the remorse, "Yeah, of course."

And you were thinking about it. As your joints ached and your throat burned for water, the breeze felt cold against your bones, and you truly couldn't imagine it getting any warmer. The sun setting only meant it could get colder, and you were currently without a roof.

"Okay," you quietly agreed, despite the churning in your stomach saying otherwise.

That was when one of the others, neither of which you knew, spoke, "But, didn't Rick say-"

"Shut it," Glenn exhaled, tone icy and you suddenly realized maybe they were new to him too.

The walk was long, not grueling since Glenn had known exactly where he was going -he'd always had that sense of direction though. You remembered the early days when he'd been the one to volunteer to go back to the city, he'd known so much. Maybe he was just made that way? Or it was some sort of thing they'd invented. It had been a long time.

"There's a few of us that'll be happy to see you," Glenn spoke, casually walking beside you as the other two paired off behind you.

You swallowed the tensing of your shoulders, the last time you'd been in a group it hadn't ended well, and every time before that too actually. You didn't meld well with groups, let's just say that.

"I don't think so," you hummed, remembering so far back in your brain that day -the eyes all set on you, strong and decisive. You couldn't imagine who else survived other than Rick Grimes himself. Because this world wasn't what you expected, you shouldn't have survived more that a week... but here you were.

Glenn didn't say anything else, you assumed he noticed your more pressed tone -as the opposite of an invitation to keep talking. It stung a bit, watching the man's face solemn considerably, but there was also a sick part of your brain that had been waiting for this day.

As you approached the new community, Glenn spread out his hands -with a voice close to an announcer, "Welcome to Alexandria!"

Alexandria was big, bigger than you thought really. When you pictured the homes, there was bordered up windows and broken glass -blood stained into the wood. But these?

They were almost pristine.

Your head spun as you made your way through the gate, Glenn casually guiding you through the space without much forethought. It seemed he'd known this daze, he'd experienced it himself, maybe?

You knew how this world was, Alexandria seemed to be a new wave of something fresh.

Actually, you'd seen signs once or twice but never pursued it. Things like that didn't quite work in this world, you were scared of what it may truly have been. But Glenn had brought you hear with the promise of a bed to sleep in, so you assumed whatever kinks were there had already been worked out.

Or maybe you hoped they would.

In your haze, you hadn't noticed the two other members bump ahead -headed straight for a particular place, you assumed. Nor did you really notice Glenn kind of easily navigating in front of you.

Until, you heard the voice you'd vowed to never hear until the day you died.

"Glenn?" the drawl was deeper now, older and a touch more dangerous, "-The others told me you brought someone back, I thought we talked about-"

"Rick," Glenn interrupted, voice steady and calm -he had been prepared for this, "-it's Y/N."

There was silence there, as you trailed your fingers along the trim of the house ever-so-gently -the dirt stained into your fingertips didn't need to smudge there. It would've ruined it.

"What?" His voice was low, and despite how much you wished you could understand the tone, you couldn't -you didn't know him.

He could be angry, in disbelief, in shock. You had no clue, instead focusing on the ivy running up the sides of some of the houses -rubbing the leaves with your thumb, muttering, "Wow."

"Y/N?"

You blinked out of your haze, stilling at the direct contact with you -it felt odd, hearing your name out of his mouth. So familiar yet, so so far off. Yet, the sting still burned deep under your skin -it would probably never go away.

Without turning around, you acknowledged him simply -direct and without much other force, "Rick."

Then the space grew even quieter, the tension laying thick into the air -you could feel it set the prickling of goosebumps on your skin.

With a heavy breath, you turned around -equipped to set your eyes on his skin.

He looked... different. His hair was much longer, curled at the nape of his neck, and he had a beard -now littered with grey. It suited him, he'd been too uptight back then, now though, he'd seemed more adjusted.

"Y/N, I-" he began, and you could hear it -the pity, the 'I'm sorry'. You couldn't take it, not from him. Not now.

It was too late, it made you want to rip your hair out. And thrash and cry and scream. Scream for all you'd lost, scream for the fear you felt that day, pushed into the woods -separated.

You spoke, pushing back the bite in your tone as much as you could, "Don't play friendly with me. I'm here for a few days, at most."

Rick's mouth snapped shut, jaw setting. He seemed frustrated, but that was hardly your problem, the whole thing was his really. He could die with that regret, aching to give an apology for his wrongdoings... and you would let him.

The area, which you now realized was slowly filtering people in, eyes all beginning to focus on you and Rick. Questioning, mostly, but you figured any pushback on Rick and you'd end up dead. So, you pushed back -the strength of your tone settling and the brush of the cold warming.

You didn't need to make enemies.

And then you heard it, a familiar voice, older than you'd expected, you'd known that voice younger... what was-

"Y/N?"

Your breath stuttered, as you spun on your feet and there he was, taller and older, "Carl? Oh my god-"

You hadn't even thought about it, that where Rick was Carl would follow. You had less than high hopes that he'd even survive this far, and yet, here he was right in front of you.

You'd known Carl early on in the group, he had been so young. Lori needed help sometimes, and she'd grown close to you, so, pretty quickly, she'd trusted you with him. In the early days, he was stuck to your side -playing games with the sticks and rocks you could find nearby, giving him comfort when his Mom seemed too far to touch -she was often like that. Her eyes were far, and her mind farther.

Without much less of an introduction, he ran to you with ease, despite the filth you must've been covered in. Especially compared to him, who seemed to be as perfectly clean as the rest of them. He ran into you, arms wrapping tight around your figure -and god, he was so much taller. You bit back a sob, how much had you missed?

"I thought you were dead," he spoke, muttering into your shoulder and his hands gripping desperately at your shirt.

You remembered the tiny version of him kicking and screaming, 'Why do they have to leave, Dad?!' He had been crying so hard his body was shaking, they practically had to tear him off you. You'd told them you'd leave in the night when he was sleeping, so it wouldn't be so hard on him. He couldn't put up as much of a fight if he wasn't there.

"You've gotten so tall," you laughed, pulling back and wiping at your eyes -gesturing to his stature.

Carl laughed too, wiping away his own tears.

You forgot for a second where you were, and how long it had been. Only reuniting with someone you cared tremendously about. The moment was bittersweet with the eyes of many sliding across your figure, the scar detailed across your arm, or maybe the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd had some run-ins, but you'd taken care of them with what you could.

The next few days were a bit stuffy, the doctor (who you didn't bother to learn the name of) had been keeping a close eye on you -consistently telling you to rest and sticking the one and only sheriff on you when you resisted.

Apparently, she thought that it was the best idea.

The single thread that didn't have you running out of this place wore a sheriff's hat and seemed to relish in your arrival. Carl had been by your side frequently, introducing you to practically everyone (including Glenn's wife, Maggie, what-) -which you had originally been strictly against, but the kid was your soft spot.

You'd felt more at ease after a run-in with two familiar faces, Daryl and Carol. They both did similarly to Carl, and you couldn't seem to fault them too much. Not at that moment anyway. It was midday and Carl had run off with some people his own age, which you refused to separate him from that. It was important, he needed it.

And you needed something too.

The space felt cramped, with someone constantly looking over your shoulder and someone else always in your area. It was a far cry from your previous loner life where your days fell to silence and the slice of whatever your blade was echoed through it. Before Glenn, you hadn't spoken out loud in months.

So, with new energy from the hot water and regular meals, you'd found yourself roaming the streets towards the fence. Just for a sense of normalcy, you needed to taste the adrenaline, feel the blade in your hands, and the urgency in your movements. Dancing with death.

Trying to watch your back, you kept your eyes behind you -ducking behind some of the unused houses that you'd scouted out earlier in the day. It wasn't like you were leaving forever, just a few hours that's all you needed.

"And where are you going?"

You jumped, turning to the sound in front of you, and because god simply hated you it happened to belong to one Rick Grimes. His eyes leveled with you, standing confidently in your way like he'd expected you. And shit, maybe he had.

Stammering, you regained your composure, "Where's Carl?"

"Asleep," he responded with ease.

"Look, I'm not-" you groaned, "-Why are you keeping me here like a prisoner?"

"Doctor told me to keep an eye on ya," he answered, once again too prepared, it infuriated you to no bounds, "-you don't think I'd notice you scopin' out an exit?"

"That's not-" you straightened your posture, pressing your lips into a thin line, "I don't have to explain myself to you. So, kindly, if you would get out of my way, I'll be back in an hour."

Rick chuckled, not in a really joyful way either, neither of you was quite joking, "Yeah, not happenin'."

"Rick," you echoed, tone ice and hand tightening on where your blade rested on your hip -a handmade hilt someone had made you a long time ago, "-move, or I'll make you."

He paused, licking a line across his teeth, and slowly making his way into your space. Your breath caught in your throat, but you stayed strong in your place -eyes set on his and shoulders set in place. He didn't speak until his face was right in yours, a breath away, and his expression remained unchanged -his eyes only betraying the heaviness of his words, "Try me."

Rick didn't reach for his gun, which sat with was at his hip -inches from his hands. You knew he wouldn't pull it on you, it wasn't in his character, but there was a chill in his tone -something new.

What happened to him?

You washed out the worry that settled under your skin for a second, that didn't need to be there. He'd abandoned you -they all had.

Setting your jaw, you exhaled -pulling back and letting your hand fall to your side, "Look, I just need an hour."

Rick stared at you, you couldn't read him -years of age, and most likely tragedy by the missing faces, gracing features you once knew. And even then, he was new -you hadn't known him.

"This place is-" you faltered off, looking back to the houses, where most lights were switched off in the dark -except for just a few spare ones, "-suffocating. I've been on my own for so long, I feel like I'm having an out-of-body fucking experience here. This isn't... I need something familiar."

He still hadn't said a word.

"So," you began, strong, before deflating, "-just let me kill some of the dead, yeah?"

Rick pursed his lips, before sighing deep and heavily, "Okay."

You opened your mouth to rebuttal, before the words set in, "Okay?"

"Just let me tell Michonne and Daryl I won't be around for a bit," he continued, seeming to waltz on past you, and then those words hit you.

"Rick, I don't need a babysitter," you answered, that lick of bitterness slinking through your skin again -your mouth opened before you could stop it, "-you weren't worried years ago, were you? Why now?"

He stopped in his motion, frozen solid by your words. A part of you felt vindicated, he deserved it -it may have been years for him, but that was the way your way in this world had started.

You hadn't expected him to speak, but he did.

"You can't do that."

A flash of frustration hummed under your skin -burning hot and bright -who was he to say anything to you, "I can't do that? Do what? Talk about what you did to me? The day you kicked me to the curb at the beginning of the fucking apocalypse...?"

"I've been tryin' to apologize since you got here-" he started, tone angry in the way of hands shaking not voice raising, "-you won't let me."

Something in you snapped.

"So what?" you started, tone shaky and you'd say it was for rage but you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, "You think I want an apology from you?"

Rick looked lost then, and something in you begged to keep going. The dam was cracked now, and the water could flood out -who better than the man who hit the nail in the coffin, "What...?"

"You, you don't get the resolution that would get you. You don't get to sleep well at night because you said sorry, no."

He didn't speak.

You laughed, the tears were free now, years of being locked behind something as thick as the shell you wore after that day -your breaths were ragged and you felt like maybe your heart would be out of your chest, "I never wanted to live through this."

"Y/N-"

And there was something there in those words, heavy and gravelly against the cool night air. But you couldn't dwell on it. You had too much to say to him, to all of them really, but just him would do.

"No," you exhaled, taking a deep shaky breath in, "-Rick, I just need to know one thing."

He opened his mouth, assumedly to answer your question, but you still couldn't let him speak. Your brain was going so fast, you had to keep up.

"Did you ever ask them why?"

Rick spoke then, slowly, "Who?"

"Shane," you spoke, the air seemed to get heavier, "-and Lori. Did it never seem odd to you that it came out at the same time? That they'd both seen me that exact same day?"

Rick stilled, and his jaw seemed to set.

That was what had gotten you kicked out, Shane and Lori had alleged you'd taken more supplies for yourself -stolen from everyone. You weren't sure of the specifics, whether it be an extra graham cracker or a tissue to wipe your busted lip, as you didn't let them get too far into it. They'd been egging him on, Shane on some sort of masculine level and Lori using their love as a pawn -you'd seen it clear as day. Rick hadn't.

"I was going to tell you," you spoke quietly, barely a brush over the wind of the chillier nights.

He didn't have to ask what. He knew you assumed he had known pretty much immediately after you noticed their absences. Something had happened, maybe not long after you'd left. You could only assume so much.

"I didn't know," he echoed out, his voice strained in a way you'd never heard from him -pained, regretful.

Without much else, you turned back the way you came -voice steady and strong across the space between you two, "I know."

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #twd twoshot #does that make any sense?#maneater #twd oneshot #angsty

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n3ptoonz · 1 year ago

Note

How’d u think earth realm boys would react to their wife telling me there ready for kids 🎤

mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react to their wife being ready for kids

warnings/tags: suggestive, fluff, female reader obv

Liu Kang

The way you brought it up was so subtle and casual. It was during his downtime, which was kinda rare. A simple "Hey...I think I'm ready to have children." and Liu is looking at you with surprised eyes and a full heart.

Being the kind of man Liu is, and how busy his life has become since being appointed as a god, this man set an exact date and time where there would be zero distractions. All his focus and effort was on you. And in you (ba dum tss)

So be prepared for a long night of passion, love, lust, and care. Cause you're not leaving that bed until you've gotten every last drop

Doesn't mind the gender. Boy, girl, he would love them just the same. Hell, even if it was more than one child at once, he wouldn't hesitate to give them the world.

Smoke

You mentioned it while you two were cuddled up on the couch. Little did you know how red his face turned until you felt his heart beat increase in real time, looking up at him with his genuine concern.

At first you thought he was nervous or probably didn't want to, and once he saw your slight frown he immediately countered that thought. He was so excited he froze. Endless reassurance from him until you verbally say you got it.

Did you think he wouldn't nervously suggest you start as soon as possible?? Pish posh, you are sad- happily mistaken. "Why not try right now?" he said, except he's stuttering over his own words and sweating profusely. No matter how many times you've been intimate with one another, he's always nervous around you <3

Gender doesn't matter to him either, however he does lean more on the side of a daughter. Simply because he'd die at the sight of a little girl running around the house that looked like you. If you had a son though, he'd be sure he doesn't meet ol uncle Bi Han bro would prob try to recruit

Johnny Cage

What if I told you he brought the idea to you one day as a "joke" and you're immediately like "That's crazy, I was going to say the same thing!"? You both looked at each other with narrowed eyes before making a run for it to the bedroom

Less talk, more action. It's safe to say y'all were up all night, touchin', lovin', going multiple rounds to the point where you forgot the entire reason for heading straight to bed. But hey, who's complaining? Johnny promised to tap that at the earliest opportunity (yes, i went there)

He SWORE that cowgirl and mating press were the "only efficient ways" to make sure you'd definitely get pregnant. As if going raw wasn't enough already-

Daughter. He wants a daughter. Give the man a daughter. He won't shut up about being a girl dad when you aren't even a month in yet. He's practicing dad jokes. Even coming up with ones that are tailored to daughters. Has a CVS receipt list of girl names and the only one you both decided that was perfect is "Cassandra/Cassie" (wink) He CANNOT wait to have another favorite girl in his life to spoil!

Raiden

It was after training. You finished first and watched him complete his, and the idea came to you while he was helping one of the younger recruits. You just laid it on him without warning: "I think we should have kids." and cue him almost spitting out his water. Was he dreaming?!

Another nervous one who blushed and stuttered a bunch upon trying to conjure up a response. The thought of having a child with you has been on his mind for some time now and it's like you read his mind, he just didn't want to overwhelm you.

Speaking of overwhelming, that was all out the window once you got home. Going from a peaceful walk to a heated make out session on a matter of seconds. Not to mention, you both had a longgg day of training and could use a shower...why not save some money on the water bill!

Raiden is too good with all types of kids to really have a preference. Growing up with his little sister AND kung lao gave him experience on both sides

Kung Lao

After your weekly sparring session, you got to thinking. You're already married, you've seen him handle kids and younger people well, and most of all he looks so damn hot when he's sweaty and out of breath. Not an unfamiliar sight to you at all!

It was when you two went to Madam Bo's for a good after-spar meal when you slyly threw it into the conversation. Mid bite, he couldn't help but back up from his food and look at you with that classic smirk he does and his dimples are fully visible (currently dying at this imagery.) And he'd end up saying something cocky but playful like "You think I'd oppose you carrying the next great Kung Lao?"

Got straight to it when you got home. Luckily you had already showered after the session, otherwise the water bill would've been looking like a traditional Chinese scroll after you were done. Prepare for his teasing, flirtatiousness, and pride to be multiplied by a thousand

I feel like he'd want a boy, and we all know why. He's not at all opposed to the idea of having a daughter. But if your first child was a daughter, you're going back to that king sized mattress once you've fully healed and trying again! (who's complaining 🤨)

Kenshi Takahashi

He had come home from a long day of a series of trips and tasks given by Liu Kang. You were in the kitchen brewing some tea late at night just because when you heard him come in. He wasn't exhausted, but you could tell he just wanted to drop everything and spend all his time with you the way he plopped down at the dining table.

When you offered food he politely declined since he had already eaten earlier. But he could sense something else was on your mind by the slight shift in your tone. Being visually impaired, his auditory has improved considerably since. "Is something on your mind?" he asked. "I think we should have kids." you responded, sitting next to him with your cup of tea.

He was at full attention now, whatever tired him from the day vanished just like that. You took his silence as uncertainty, so as you began to start listing the pros and benefits, he quickly cut you off with a "Let's do it." "Seriously?" you said, just to make sure you heard him. He stood and took your hand in his, "I'm very serious. We can start tonight, tomorrow, next week. The sooner the better." (hey, starting tonight didn't sound like a bad idea 😮‍💨)

He says he doesn't really stress the gender, but he'd like a son. Kenshi would adore your child under any circumstance, but being an only child (idk if that's canon but it's gonna be today XD) who practically raised most of his younger cousins who mostly consisted of girls, he gets a little giddy at the thought of having an older son younger daughter dynamic around the house.

Sub Zero

With how busy he is all the time and how even more tense he's become since the rift, it was a little difficult to find a way to get his undivided attention. However, the whole reason he married you is because you don't take any shit. You voiced your opinions and concerns whenever you deemed fit, and it never got in his way. So, you waltzed into his office on a mission.

It was one of the few times he wasn't running around or training his heart out. He just got done talking to Cyrax when you walked in looking as determined as the day you met. He knows you never interrupt him unless it's something terribly important. At a moment's notice, he gestured for Cyrax to leave so you could speak your peace.

"What is it?" he asked. You made sure the door was securely closed behind you before walking over to sit in his lap. He was quite surprised but also would be lying if he claimed he didn't enjoy it. "Let's have kids." you said. He always told you to be blunt with him about anything, and this was no exception. "Alright." he replied, seldom reason to say no, especially to the love of his life.

Bi Han would for sure want a son. He's set on carrying on tradition, even if he did oppose some of his late father's views. If you had a daughter as your first born, like Kung Lao y'all aren't stopping until you had a son. Though, he knows he will have to learn to raise your kids better than how he was raised. He'd rather die than ever neglect or overwork his children. Plus, you wouldn't have any of that anyway.

Scorpion

Despite being busy a lot as the head of his new clan, he always makes time for you. All his down time was yours unless you said otherwise. You were giving fighting advice to a recruit when Kuai approached you, a gentle warm hand on your shoulder. Earlier in the day, you said you wanted to talk in his free time

After excusing yourself and talking to him on the way to his office, you wasted no time laying it on him. "Kuai...I think we're ready for kids." He stops in his tracks and looks directly into your eyes. "...You're sure about this?" he asks softly, taking your hands in his with the most gentle gaze you've ever seen from him. He's been thinking about this for a while now, but didn't know how to bring it up. Your approving nod with a smile set his heart ablaze with happiness.

Because of his busy schedule, like some of the other kombatants with a lot on their plate, there's a set day and time. And once that time comes...it's tiimmeee (mariah carey voice) That night is gonna be filled with romance and deep love for one another.

Kuai wants a boy. He, like Kenshi, wants the older son and younger daughter dynamic, but for no particular reason. He just likes it. His feelings wouldn't change if your first kid was a girl though, the older daughter younger son dynamic would remind him of how his mother treated Tomas when they were kids before she passed.

a/n: as a mf who doesn't even want kids, this was so fun and cute to write omg😭ty anon for the idea! remember y'all my asks are open and i'd be down to do x or 11 if you want! just clarify pls <3

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dangerpronebuddie · 7 months ago

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Several Sentences Sunday!!

Tagged by @hippolotamus @tizniz who both wrote INCREDIBLE stuff y'all should show some love!! 💜🩵

Still working on my BTHB prompt! *Insert Kronk gif: oh yeah. It's all coming together.

I am about halfway through it right now, I just need Eddie to wake up. In the meantime, have some of Buck and Tommy's argument. (Again, if you'd rather not be tagged, I understand and I will make sure to alter the list for this fic 🩷):

Buck turns to face Tommy, who's staring wide eyed at the door. "What was that?" Tommy raises his eyebrows. "What was what?" "You!" Buck cries. "You're supposed to have my back, and you didn't. You know the situation well enough to understand why I-" "I don't know the situation," Tommy interjects, shrugging helplessly. "Yeah, the kid really likes you, but he's not yours." "He is," Buck says in a low voice. "Christopher is mine. In every way that matters. I didn't tell you about the will, that's on me, but you know enough. And yet you stepped in like you knew better." "Evan, he's only yours if Eddie dies," Tommy says bluntly. Buck shakes his head. For years he believed that. Never let himself think of that paper as anything beyond a fail-safe. But he knows now. He knows it is so much more than that. Eddie asked Buck to talk Christopher through dating and abandonment. Christopher came to Buck when he voiced concern about Eddie and Marisol (and Kim). So many instances, over so many years, have built the relationship he has with Christopher. It's the same relationship Buck has with Bobby. Just as paternal and loving. Dad, even if he's not a donor. "I've been a part of Christopher's life since I met him," Buck says. "Well before a legal document was even thought of." "I'm not saying you aren't important to him, kid," Tommy says, holding his hands up in surrender. "I just think you might be overstepping." "First I'm not enough, now I'm too much," Buck mutters to himself, looking at his shoes. "That's not what I meant," Tommy huffs. "Wasn't it?" Buck scoffs. "You left me on the sidewalk on our first date because you decided I wasn't ready, that I- I should be completely comfortable with myself days after you kissed me. Now you think I'm overstepping in a life I've been living for years." "You weren't ready," Tommy shrugs, like he still has some high ground. "That's not for you to decide," Buck counters, his voice rising in his frustration.

(Tags under the cut)

Absolutely no pressure tagging:

@13shadesofanni @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway

@ronordmann @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @wikiangela @kitteneddiediaz

@inell @exhuastedpigeon @spagheddiediaz @diazsdimples @thekristen999

@actuallyitsellie @daniwib @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley

@rainbow-nerdss @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

@lunarspark-cos @idealuk @shipperqueen6

@misshiss727 @likeamollusconarock @lin27 @jshadow01 @orangeboxfox92

@smallandalmosthonest @thegeekcompanion @emilybahu @lemotmo @awolfnamed-nyx

@kaseysgirl86-blog @darkrose6578 @totallynotagoraphobic @dandelioncasey and anyone else who wants to share!! 🩷🥰

#911 #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #911 abc #fanfic #Maggie writes #spec fic #maybe #9-1-1 #tommy kinard #several sentence sunday

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detectivemarvelingcomics · 1 year ago

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Ik you're working hard on the next nycv chapter buuuuuut if it's okay can i ask for more cute pre-isekai!batsis stuff with the batboys 🥺 if you're okay with it ofc!

Oh I'm always down for writing stuff about NYCV, sure I'll do like some bullet points or something

Not a chapter but y'all get some NYCV stuff too! Also to those who haven't read it this should be readable without having prior knowledge of the series so feel free to sit back and enjoy some Batboys fluff!

Tag list since it's technically NYCV content: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435 @f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnacks @akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz @lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc @rainnyydaysworld @underworlder @franini @mayo-0-o

NYCV!Batsis & the Batboys

[Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Dick Grayson

As we all know, he's the first batsib, talk about a high bar to reach (ba dum tss), and luckily for you he was an amazing older brother.

Fun where it counts, doting 24/7, protective when the situation calls for it, and stern when he has to be. There's a reason why you looked up to him more than your father in some regards.

Whenever he's off on a mission somewhere far away, he sends you postcards. You keep them in a box under your bed and you haven't thrown a single one away! Each card had a cheesy joke written on them, something to make you smile while he was gone is how he signed them all off with.

There was one time he was on 'Babysitter Duty' (as they later put it) and you ended up staging a bank robbery in the ballroom while he played the Boy Wonder (of course) who saved the day! (Poor Alfred was nominated to be Condiment King).

He's actually insufferable, his coworkers used to hate him because of how often he'd pull his phone/wallet/photobook/whatever could physically hold your picture just to gush and say "Look at my baby sister isn't she perfect?!" "Dude, that's, like, a whole ass teenager" "Shut up."

Although you'd always shown interest in his vigilante work, up until after the whole "I will never be a vigilante thing" much later, Dick was always very very careful in keeping you away from it. Hell, you didn't even know he was a Robin until you wandered into his room one evening when he came back from patrol.

By the time you'd figured him out, he did everything he could to keep you away from harm's way. You just weren't trained to handle yourself, and Dick would be a leader before he was your brother, as much as he'd hate to admit it. So, to keep you safe, he kept you away.

But, when he was there, he made sure to be the best older brother you could ask for. Gifts, advice, jokes, confidants, anything you'd ask. After all, he had competition.

Jason Todd

AKA, the Competition. He's the next batsib you got and so far he apparently holds the title for 'Best Sibling' (according to a ranking system you didn't know about that's being score kept by Alfred, in second place is Cass, for those wondering).

If Dick was the doting older brother then Jason was the annoying one. The kind of brother to open the door to your room, stare at you for five minutes, and walk away like nothing happened. The kind of brother to pull a 'I'm not even bothering you!' kind of move.

But, when it comes down to it, oh this dude's taking a bullet for you. I mentioned it once in the story but he'd always wanted a younger sister and bam he got one, sure he thought you were a spoiled brat at first (and in some ways you were) but hell he's damn sure he'll keep you that way if it meant you'd always be, well, you.

There were some days he'd wonder what it would be like if you'd switched places. If he was the one with the silver spoon and you were the Gotham street rat and nope, shake that thought out of his head. Without you he's sure he'd have gone off the deep end in this vigilante shit.

As much as you'd argue that you both secretly hated each other, you'd remember the time when Jason broke his hand punching Conner Kent in the face. He'd just come back to the family and while you were both getting caught up, you let slip that you broke up because he fell in love with someone else and... whoops. Good thing Tim was there to talk some sense into him.

For the record, Conner did lose his footing, but he argues it's because he was caught off guard, while Jason swears up and down it's because the Lazarus Pit made him stronger, or something like that. You try not to think about it, you're surprised you're still allowed within Titan tower.

He'd never admit it, but of the batsibs he actually knows you best. If the others have questions about what you'd like or how you'd react to something they'd ask Jason. He'd always answer in a way that would wave them off, but he's never been wrong.

Jason, as cold-shouldered as he could be, he has a soft spot for you. If he ever saw you in trouble he's definitely going to step between whatever's going on, don't doubt him on that.

Tim Drake

The first younger brother and, in his argument, therefore the best. Ironically since he was the first younger one you did dote on him a little too much, being the one "good cop" figure in the manor while he was training to be a Robin.

Of course, though you were on the civilian side of things, he actually looked up to you in ways he never could with Dick or Bruce. While they're mainly for the vigilante stuff, you're just there to make sure he doesn't forget who he is: Timothy Drake and not just a Robin.

You were really trying to replicate what your older brothers did for you with Tim, though it was only a little more difficult with his background. Hard to get gifts for someone who probably already has it, and hard to keep secrets and surprises from someone who's good at figuring them out, but you always figured out a way, and those ways always made him happy to see.

Thursdays are Tim and (Y/N) days, everyone in the family knows it. It started out as a mini tradition to get Tim out of the house every now and then and soon it became routine, it was the time you both took to catch up with each other and this especially became true after you went to college. Those times were precious for him, and he always looked forward to it.

Until, that is, other members started crashing it. It started with Dick coincidentally running into you both and suddenly now Jason's already sitting at your booth? And Stephanie? And Cass? Barbara?! What happened to Tim and (Y/N) time?!

But, he had to admit, it was rare to see them all getting along well like this. He couldn't complain, as long as you all got to spend time together that's all that mattered. And, in the end, it was always you two anyway. You are one of his greatest confidants, and he is one of yours likewise. Despite the short age gap, you often found that you shared a lot in common with him. Maybe it was because of your similar backgrounds, or maybe it was because you doted on him so much.

Tim looks up to you. More than you think, and more that you'd expect. Every time you reminded him that you were just a civilian part of it seemed wrong to him. You're as much a part of the family as he is, or as anyone is, and usually it would be him to remind you of that when he caught you distancing yourself again.

You couldn't hide anything from each other, you could read him so easily and he was just good at finding things out. And when it came to being middle siblings, well, that's a pact in and of itself.

Damian Wayne

When you'd heard about getting another younger brother, a blood related one at that, you were ecstatic. Of course, you had Tim, but Tim had his responsibilities to the Drakes too, Damian was a Wayne and so were you, it was a little different.

Sure, his appearance was... sudden. His first impressions not so great either, but you could read him well. He was so young when he came into your father's care and underneath the harsh training and the poisoned words was still that little boy he is and you were determined to help him remember that it was okay to be a boy.

Taking him to the arcade, buying him books, and treating him out for meals were just a few points off of a list of things you've done to make him feel comfortable. You're not a vigilante, you can't help him with training or anything else, but you can help him in other ways and you tried to show that to him.

It took forever. Maybe about a year or so for him to finally open up to you, but once he did it was like a triumph to you, and you knew that you did well when one day you woke up and saw him fast asleep at the foot of your bed, still clad in pajamas and eyes slightly puffy from whatever happened the night before. He's still a boy. You'd remind that to everyone when necessary.

After a while, he would come to you to ask about civilian things, troubles at school, troubles with making friends, and even troubles at galas. And every time you were there to help him out, giving him a few tips and tricks on how to avoid the paprazzi, maybe a clue here and there about what to look out for when looking for friends, and, of course, study tips so he didn't lose his mind in academy.

One day, while waiting to pick him up, there was a knock at your window. It was a woman you'd never seen before. She wore a headscarf that covered her hair and a pair of sunglasses that partially concealed her identity and, hell, if you didn't know any better you'd think that was your own mother. But something told you that she wasn't there to just say hello and, naively, you opened your door and let her in.

She sat at the passenger's seat, everything about her poised and elegant to the point that you were near in awe at her disposition and, quietly, she spoke, "thank you, for everything you've done for Damian." Talia al Ghul, she had to be, why else would she be here? You hadn't heard much about her, you'd barely even seen a few pictures of her from Damian's belongings, but here she was. "Of course," you'd answer, "I know it's not the same, but I know a little bit of how it feels to be alone." And to this she nodded, with a small smile, and with one glance out the car she left, moments later being replaced by Damian.

"So, where are we going today?" He'd ask. You'd give him a list of places, ask him to choose one, and you'd head there with him in tow. One of his favorites had always been the park.

Bonus: Bruce Wayne

I had to include bat-dad. Despite how I write him, he actually really is a good father, just not in the way you'd expect him to be. Y'all hold out for his arc, I promise it will be good!

When you were first dropped off at the manor, you didn't know what to expect from him. He was this huge imposing figure who was clad in black with a scowl on his face, you thought he hated you already. You were so young at the time, how could you have known any better?

Whenever he spoke to you, he'd crouch down and speak in a gentle voice. Whenever you'd ask him of something, even if it seemed like he didn't hear you, you'd see your answer within the next few days. He'd build you a whole other manor if you asked for it.

If only he wasn't so busy, juggling his role as CEO and Batman, he barely had enough time for the both of those, let alone time to raise a daughter, but he tried to show you that he was there in other ways. Fully funding your schooling was a given, but whenever you'd show interest in anything suddenly you'd see more of it in the manor.

When you'd expressed to Dick that you were interested in the piano, you found one in the house the next day. When you'd told Jason that you wanted to read more of a certain author, her entire collection was in the library. You once told Tim that you wanted to go to Metropolis U for college and, out of nowhere, there was an offer for a full ride. You and Damian used to go over to the Kent's to play a certain video game since neither of you had the time to bring it over and, would you look at that, the manor now has a game room.

A series of misunderstandings is what plagued this relationship. One from a father who barely felt the love of a parent and the other from a daughter who vyed for it. You both found your own way of communicating with each other, and it wasn't until the very end where it got strained.

But could you blame him?

You called him a monster.

You didn't even let him explain himself.

But, truthfully, even if you did...

He wasn't sure if you'd understand it.

Hell, he didn't even understand it himself.

All he felt was the heartbreak of realizing he made a mistake that couldn't be undone.

#dc #batman #batfamily #batfam #batsis #batsis fics #batfamily x batsis!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily scenarios #batfamily x reader #batsis!reader #batfam fics #batfamily fics #batfamily x batsis #batfam x batsis!reader #batfam x batsis #my writings #nycv

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thegildedbee · 8 months ago

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Familiar/Fall: May 3 & May 4 Prompts from @calaisreno

I've been knocked off my feet at comments some of y'all have shared ❤️🌞🌺(so I've added some tags if you want to keep following along -- let me know, though, if you'd prefer not to have your stream cluttered :-) Program note: So the comments have surprised me into doing something I hadn't thought to do with @calaisreno's daily-merrie-month-of-May-party-invites: incubate a fic. So, full disclosure, seat of the pants improvising is the order of the day! There's no storyline tucked away in my pocket, not even a hazy 🌫️ one -- I'll be making this up as I go along 🤔, responding to the first thing that pops into my head with the prompts (so the timeline will be bouncing around and I will likely be working myself into puzzles I can't get out of 😰) But, hey, if you're game, so am I, you crazy kids! 😜 .............................................................................................

"John, right on time,” Lestrade says, waving him in after hearing the knock at his office door.

John steps across the threshold and pauses, tilting his head to gesture at the door.

“Right,” Lestrade replies, with a quick nod at the unvoiced question. “Turn the lock.” He shuts down the computer window that's open on his screen, and walks over to John and grasps his good shoulder.

“This is really happening, then?” he asks, scanning John’s face intently.

“It really is,” John confirms, pushing his shoulders back slightly and reflexively straightening his already straightened posture. “I’ll be leaving for parts unknown in two days' time, so I’ve been doing not much else -- even sleeping -- except cramming the prep. As we suspected, Mycroft tries to arrange for local operatives as back-up for Sherlock -- that is, when he knows where he is, or where he might be headed, which is often not the case -- but I’ll be a roving asset, one that he won’t ever meet face-to-face.”

“A shadow,” Lestrade offers.

“Yeah, something like that. As far as Sherlock will know, I’m still in London. Mycroft has stripped the metadata from stills he's pulled from CCTV footage that he can use to send to Sherlock if he asks for an update on my status.”

Lestrade takes that in, and then nods his head. “No time to waste. Let’s get what you came for, and send you back out to do whatever needs doing before you leave.”

Slipping on a pair of nitrile gloves, Lestrade walks over to a bank of filing cabinets at the back of the room, moving swiftly to pull out and fully extend the second drawer from the bottom of the second unit on the right. He barely glances at the contents, reaching toward the back for a horizontally stacked set of folders, which he lifts up and sets aside. He then retrieves a small black steel case that’s been revealed and sets it on a nearby table, and beckons for John to join him, pulling another set of gloves from his pocket and holding them out for him to use.

Lestrade pulls a blank file folder from the bottom of the stack he’d removed and opens it, revealing a small key taped inside, which he detaches and hands to John.

“Thanks, mate,” John says, a slight catch in his voice, “for keeping it safe . . . and for returning it.” He raises his fist to his mouth and coughs into it briefly, which allows him to pause and regain his composure. “I know this wasn’t a by-the-book decision,” he acknowledges.

Lestrade snorts. “That’s one way of putting it,” he says, giving a shrug. John touches his elbow, and says insistently, “It was a risk for you, a real one. Don’t think I don’t know that. Once I walk through the door we’ll forget it ever happened. Although I won’t ever forget you standing by me.”

John uses the key to open the steel box, and stops to gaze at the Sig P226 before he picks it up. He palms the grip, the familiar feel of its shape and of its weight in his hand a comforting one. He briefly disassembles it, then reassembles it, giving it another long look. Hello, comrade. We took out the first henchman Moriarty set at Sherlock, and, when the time comes, we’ll finish the game and take out the last one as well.

John furrows his forehead and looks at Lestrade, his expression fading from determination to being at a loss, saying in a lowered voice, “And thanks for taking it away from me when you did. You’re a damn smart copper, Greg, and a damn fine friend. I owe you.”

“Ah, hell, John, no,” Lestrade protests, throwing up his hands. “That you were in such a dark place is partly down to my own participation in the whole bloody shitshow at 221B,” he says, a pained look on his face.

John places the Sig at the small of his back, and looks down at his shoes, pausing for a moment before turning to Lestrade, and saying harshly, “We were pawns, Greg. Pawns of all of them: Moriarty, Mycroft, MI6. All of us were trapped in a knotted-up web they were weaving as they pulled the strings. It was a struggle to even begin to figure how to get out in front of any of it.” He squeezes his eyes shut, and sighs. "It was a colossal clusterfuck.”

The two men look at each other, somber, each recalling, in retrospect, what they can now understand counted and what didn’t, what they should have seen but had failed to recognize, and how the seemingly solid facts they thought were in their grasp had liquefied, running through their fingers, leaving only emptiness behind.

Leaning his hip against the table, John crosses his arms across his chest, and says evenly, “And Sherlock, too. I try to imagine what it was like in his brain in the days before Bart’s, running scenarios and switching-out variables, over and over, unable to fight his way out of a tangle of nets and hooks, trying to find the surface.

“We didn’t know . . . but when he fell . . . from Bart’s roof,” John says, starting, then stopping, his voice trailing off, lost in whatever he’s picturing in his mind’s eye. “His fall . . . it’s as if he slashed through the tangled-up parts of the web when he fell. And that made an opening to begin taking all of it apart.”

Lestrade makes a soft noise of agreement, and then rocks back on his heels, his hands in his pockets. “I know it’s hard for you to know how long you may be gone . . . but I hope we see the both of you back here soon.” He reaches out to shake John’s hand, and then shifts, pulling him into a hug instead. “You take care out there, mate. We’ll keep our eyes and ears open here.”

“Well, that’s what got us this far,” John says, with a knowing look at Lestrade. “I wouldn’t be doing this on our terms without all of us having brought it about. Mission accomplished, in getting out into the field; let’s hope the first leg of what's to follow goes just as well.” ........................................................ @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper @topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk @solarmama-plantsareneat @bluebellofbakerstreet @dragonnan @safedistancefrombeingsmart @jolieblack @msladysmith @ninasnakie

#mayprompts2024 #calaisreno #sherlock bits and bobs #may prompts 2024 #johnlock

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kmomof4 · 5 months ago

Text

Return to Me: A New Fic for CSSNS24

Here is my second fic for the final @cssns!!

Ohhhhhh, I am SO EXCITED to share this fic with you!! I have to tell y'all, I thought I had an idea of what the original Dracula story looked like, and that idea is what inspired this fic. But turns out, I had no idea what Dracula was really about, which shouldn't have surprised me since I've never read the book nor seen any Dracula movie. Too much of a wimp... But anyway, that idea is where this fic came from, even if the idea bore almost no resemblance to the original story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

@snowbellewells and @hollyethecurious deserve all the love and long distance internet hugs for their beta work on this fic. They both had suggestions and insights that made it so much better!!! Thank you so much, ladies!!!

@motherkatereloyshipper did her magic AGAIN on the artwork!! Isn't it gorgeous? Please give her ALL the love!!!

Summary: Vampire Killian Jones has been waiting for his bride to return to him for 250yrs, and now that she has, there are a couple of obstacles that must be overcome before they can truly be together. Will they succeed?

*Spoiler Alert*

Of course they will. Happy endings are ALWAYS guaranteed with me...

Words: 7300

Rating: M for violence and smut

Tags: CSSNS24, Vampires, Reincarnation, TLK, Happy Ending, Temporary Major Character Death

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza

@djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling

@caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones

@mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Return to Me

Queen Emma stood at the window in the highest tower of the castle she called home and watched as her love led their army away to fight King Malcolm - the despot of a cobbled together kingdom some leagues away, who’d now turned his sights on adding her husband’s small kingdom to his dominion.

She had no doubt that Killian would ultimately emerge victorious, but she couldn’t help the dread that squeezed her heart as she watched him march away, leading his men into battle. Their kingdom was small but prosperous, their people strong, loyal, and eager to defend their homeland and their Sovereign from the aggression of a very well-known and universally hated tyrant. The people of Malcolm’s kingdom were little more than slaves to his oppression, with no real strength or motivation, other than fear, to conquer strong and well-defended lands.

There was nothing she could do but hope and pray for his safe return to her, so she turned away from the window and prepared herself for the day ahead. She was no stranger to duty and was ready to fulfill hers while her beloved was away. It was important for the remaining people in her kingdom to see and to know that their welfare would not suffer while their Sovereign was absent. And that duty fell now to Emma alone. Just as her husband wouldn’t fail their kingdom, she would prevail in her charge as well.

Many hours later, a large hand slammed over Emma’s mouth, waking her from a sound sleep. The strangled scream that burst from her was muffled both by the offending appendage and the way she struggled within her assailant’s grasp. It was only moments before the hand was replaced with a gag that was stuffed in her mouth and a bag placed over her head. A strong arm was wrapped around her middle as she did everything she could to escape. There were several of them, as evidenced by the grasping hands trying to grab her flailing limbs. They were finally successful, and her hands and legs were bound securely as she was carried through the silent halls of the castle. The guards who should have defended their queen had obviously been dealt with when her kidnappers approached her chambers.

They emerged into the night, evidenced by the slight breeze against her bare arms. She was unceremoniously thrown into a cage of some sort - the wooden bars solid and tearing at her exposed skin. She tried to stand in her prison as, with a jerk, they began to move, but her tied hands and feet made that impossible. She fell into a heap, tears of pain and fear filling her eyes.

Still blinded by the bag over her head - the stink of it making it difficult to draw a deep breath - Emma tried her best to keep her wits about her and not panic.

Who were these men and where were they taking her?

~*~*~

She must have fallen asleep at some point in their journey, because she was jerked into wakefulness when they came to a sudden stop. The air didn’t seem as close now as when they set out from the castle, and the sounds of many horses and low murmurs among the clanking of iron told her she was in the camp of an army. King Malcolm must have sent men to kidnap her to give him an advantage in the coming battle. She could hear her captors dismounting and coming to the door of her cage.

She positioned herself as far away from the door as she possibly could. There was blessed little hope for escape, but she wouldn’t make it easy for them. The gate of her prison was opened and, from the lurching tilt of the cage, she knew the man who’d just climbed inside was quite large. She held her breath waiting for him to put his hands on her. She suppressed a shudder of revulsion as a large hand wrapped around her bound ankles and began to pull her forward. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as his stench reached her. The moment she perceived that she was close enough, she pulled her head back and then forcefully jerked it forward, hoping beyond hope that she’d make contact with some tender part of her aggressor’s anatomy.

A sickening crunch and a howl of pain reached her ears a moment later. The hand around her ankles disappeared, and Emma began kicking her legs, trying to keep anyone else from laying their hands on her person. But her victory was short-lived. Similar to the night before, strong arms wrapped around her middle and hauled her bodily out of the cage she’d traveled in.

She twisted and flailed as much as she could while in her captor’s grasp, until she was put down on her feet and tied securely to some kind of post or tree. Only then was the bag over her head removed.

She blinked furiously against the bright morning sunlight that was just cresting the hill on which she stood. Once her eyes focused, she could see the army bearing the colors of her kingdom on the opposite hill, on the other side of a small valley where the two armies would presumably meet in battle. The army and her beloved were too far away to see clearly, but she now knew with certainty who had kidnapped her and also had a pretty good idea of his plans for her.

She turned her head to the side to see King Malcolm, a gloating sneer on his face. Finally seeing him in person rather than conjuring him in her mind's eye, he wasn’t nearly as impressive as the tales made him out to be. He was only slightly taller than she was - certainly not as tall as Killian - stocky, and with straight hair the color of dirt. His teeth were yellow, though the beard and mustache he sported was neatly trimmed.

He stroked his chin as he moved toward her. “It’s a shame that I’ve already bound myself to Lady Fiona,” he mused, his sneer turning lascivious as he looked her up and down. “You’d make quite a lovely bride…”

His words came to a sudden stop when Emma spit in his face. He roughly grabbed her chin in his hand and moved closer to her, his face inches from her own. He stank, like the rest of his men, and Emma was glad she’d had nothing to eat for hours, or she would surely lose it from the foulness invading her nostrils.

“Now you listen here, you draggle-tail.” The sneer was back in full force, and Emma glared with all the animosity she held in her heart for this foul coward of a man. “The only reason you’re still alive is because I want to be sure King Killian sees what happens to those who defy me.” He turned away from her, and over his shoulder she could just see the line of her kingdom’s army charging down the hill toward the valley.

They were too far. He was too far. He’d never reach her in time. A calm resolve settled about her shoulders. King Malcolm intended to kill her to punish Killian. She could see him now at the front of the army, though he was still too far to make out any details of his beloved face.

She thought back over the past weeks and months of their lives together. Killian approaching her father to arrange their marriage. The flutter in her heart and instant connection she felt with him when she saw him for the first time as she entered the church to join her life to his. After their wedding, when she was escorted to her chambers - Killian explaining that he did not expect consummation of their marriage when they’d only met a few hours ago at the altar - turning to her husband and informing him that she expected consummation and would be sharing his bed henceforth. Killian’s affectionate appellation the exchange engendered. The days, and nights, since then, the love and happiness they’d found together.

She gasped in pain as the blade King Malcolm carried found its mark. Numbness spread through her body from the fatal wound as her lifeblood spilled to the ground below.

She could see Killian now, far enough ahead of the main line of the army, even as darkness encroached on her vision. His scream of anguish reached her ears even as she sagged against her bonds, her strength failing her. Her vision was blurring, but she struggled to keep her eyes on him until the last possible moment.

I love you, Killian.

Then her eyes closed and Emma knew no more.

~*~*~

Many, MANY years later

Killian awoke from his slumber at dusk, yet another long and lonely night stretched out before him. No different from every other night. He sighed, melancholy settling on his shoulders like a cloak. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure this lonely existence. But when he thought of the future - the future he was waiting for, that he’d been promised - he knew he could wait forever. To the end of the world, or time.

As he moved through the corridors of the castle, something came over him. He could smell a freshness in the air, a sense of anticipation that rivaled the longing for spring when the first crocuses and snowdrops pushed through the frozen ground.

Turning his attention to the village below his castle, he sent forth his preternatural hearing to try and locate the source of this difference in the air. The village was growing quiet as shopkeepers closed their doors, children were called inside, and families gathered around the table for the evening meal. All was as it should be. As King of this tiny kingdom, he took his duty to see to the welfare of his people seriously. Just as he had during his days of life. Even if it wasn’t strictly necessary any longer.

The inn on the edge of the village drew his attention as he focused in on the newcomer who’d just entered the common room. The kingdom didn’t have visitors. Since the day his existence had changed, no one but those specifically traveling here for some reason had ever come. So this man had a reason for being here, and Killian needed to know what it was. The man’s voice had an oddly familiar huskiness to it - something about the cadence and inflection, the way he uttered the words more than the words themselves - that made Killian want - no, need - to see exactly who spoke.

With a wave of his hand, he transformed into a bat and quickly flew down to the large pine tree in the open courtyard of the inn. This particular perch would give him a good vantage point to see inside both the stables and the common room, as well as many of the private rooms inside, in case he wasn’t immediately able to put eyes on the speaker who had brought him down to the village in the first place.

He hung upside down from one of the lower boughs of the tree, peering inside the common room, when the freshness of the air he’d noticed earlier permeated his concentration causing him to turn his attention to the stables. An involuntary gasp in the form of a high pitched squeak- too high for humans to hear- left him as his eyes beheld his love for the first time in centuries.

His shock was profound as he transformed back to himself and hid in the shadows of the huge tree. Blood tears filled his eyes as they eagerly drank in everything about his Swan - his pet name for his beloved bride because of her beauty and fierceness if provoked. Long golden hair that curled slightly was gathered at the crown of her head, but still hung down to her shoulder blades. His keen eyesight could see the green of her eyes and even the dimples on her chin and on either side of her full pink mouth that he’d traced many times with his tongue in the throes of passion. It was all the time he had before she entered the common room of the inn, shutting the door tightly behind her.

Killian moved to the window, still careful to remain in the shadows, to see if she joined the man he was seeking or if she was traveling alone. She sat down at a table across from a man whose countenance tickled the edges of Killian’s memory, but he couldn’t quite place him. They were sitting close enough to the window that he had no trouble hearing their conversation.

“Neal, what is going on here?” she asked, furtively looking around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You bring me to this… place… not on any map, out in the middle of nowhere with no explanation other than you have some mission to fulfill before the wedding. This looks straight out of, I don’t know, almost Medieval times. No paved roads, or vehicles for that matter, other than carts and horses. The women are all dressed like…” She looked down and motioned vaguely at her own attire of pants tucked into tall boots and a close-fitting shirt with no evidence of a corset underneath, all covered by a red leather jacket that barely skimmed her waist. “Not like me.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “It’s like time stood still here.” She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think it’s time you told me exactly what this mission is and why we’re here.”

Just at that moment, the innkeeper approached their table holding two keys. “Dr. Cassidy, Miss Swan,” he began. Killian was shaken down to his marrow to hear his own sobriquet applied as a proper name to his reincarnated love. She looked at the innkeeper confusion furrowing her brow.

“We’re together,” she informed him. “We just need one room.”

The innkeeper shook his head. “Separate rooms for men and women who are not married,” he informed her. “King Killian would never allow otherwise.” He left the keys on the table and withdrew just as one of the serving girls laid down plates of roasted chicken, vegetables, and fresh baked bread in front of them.

The consternation on her visage was very familiar, and Killian felt a surge of inexpressible joy that brought a wide smile to his lips.

“Is he kidding?” she asked this Dr. Neal Cassidy. The stare she pinned him with was also very familiar, and Killian could almost feel sorry for the man as he seemed to squirm a bit under her intense gaze. “Explain. Now,” she continued. “What is this place? What are we doing here?”

The man leaned across the table and lowered his voice, obviously not wanting to be overheard.

“Ems,” he began, glancing around to make sure there was no one near enough to hear him. Too bad he didn’t know Killian stood just on the other side of the wall and could hear every word that proceeded from his lips. “The reason we’re here - the mission - is to kill…” His love’s eyes widened as Dr. Cassidy glanced around again to be sure there was still no one within earshot, “a vampire.”

Killian let out a resigned breath as full recognition flooded him. Here we go again, he thought. The reason this Dr. Cassidy sounded, and then looked, vaguely familiar to him was because he was of King Malcolm’s bloodline. The last in a long, long line of adversaries who refused to leave him in peace.

“A… vampire?” she asked, incredulously. “But…”

“Don’t say they don’t exist,” Cassidy interrupted, his hand waving dismissively about. “I can assure you, they do. And this one has had a vendetta against my family for 250 years.” Killian could clearly see the disbelief in his love’s eyes as the man continued his impassioned explanation. “This vampire has killed every single one of my male ancestors, from my own father to my great-great-great-whatever going back to 1768. Why, I have no idea. But I didn’t want us to begin our lives together with this shadow hanging over us. So I’m here to kill him, before he comes after me. And I will succeed.”

The words took a moment to register, but once they did, Killian’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in suspicion. This man, this Dr. Cassidy - descendent of Malcolm, the man who’d… - was planning to marry his Swan. He stood rooted in the shadows unable to do anything but watch and seethe in helpless fury.

“Neal…” she began, doubt and confusion in her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he insisted, interrupting her rudely. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but you wanted an explanation and you got it. Just trust me, ok?”

“Fine,” she said, though her eyes told a different story altogether. “Let’s say I trust you, and vampires are real.” The skepticism in her tone was on full display, and Killian knew she still didn’t believe Dr. Cassidy’s words. “What if you don’t kill him?” she asked. “What if he kills you, too?”

“He won’t,” he assured her, reaching across the table toward her. “We’ll attack during the day, while he’s asleep. A stake to the heart and cutting off his head will ensure his death. Then we can return home, get married, and live our lives in peace.”

Killian ground his teeth in anger at the lies Dr. Cassidy was spinning. Why the man felt the need for deception about the history between his family - King Malcolm’s progeny - and Killian himself, he could only speculate. But the man was obviously not worthy to call his Swan his own.

“And you know how to find him?” she asked.

Dr. Cassidy nodded and pulled out a small notebook. “This has been handed down to me from my father and from his father before him. Everything we need to know to kill the creature is right here.” He opened the book and flipped to a page with a map. “This is a map of the castle, so yes, I know exactly how to find him.”

They finished their meal in relative silence. Once they’d satisfied their respective appetites, they each took a key and walked toward the stairs on the other side of the common room. Killian’s gaze fixed on Dr. Cassidy. He had some plans to make before he’d surely face this latest adversary come dawn.

~*~*~

Emma Swan rummaged through her duffle and pulled out her sleep shorts and tank top as she tried and failed to put Neal’s words from her mind.

Something about his explanation didn’t ring true to her. She had a sixth sense type of thing- she likened it to a superpower- but she could always tell when someone was lying to her. And as she ran back over his words about the vampire, she knew he was not telling her the truth. Not about the vampire himself, though. As unbelievable as his words were, they were not the rambling mutterings of a madman. And her superpower had been completely silent when he spoke about its existence. It was only when he spoke of the reason for the vampire’s vendetta that her intuition awoke, telling her of his deception. He had to know why, why the vampire was targeting his family. That was the only thing he said that wasn’t straight facts. For some reason though, he didn’t want her to know what the reason was.

She crawled into bed, closed her eyes, and prayed sleep would find her quickly.

It seemed only minutes later that Emma felt a feather light brush against her cheek and heard whispered words laden with tender affection.

“Emma. Emma, my Swan.”

Her eyelids fluttered open and her gaze landed on the most handsome man she’d ever seen. There was something very familiar about him, though she couldn’t say just what it was. It didn’t even occur to her to be alarmed at the presence of a strange man in her room. His hair was black as midnight and his blue eyes shone in the moonlight spilling into the room. His skin was unnaturally pale and neatly trimmed scruff the same color as his hair covered his jaw. He was tall and well built. His pants clung to the long lean muscles in his legs and he wore a dark shirt that wouldn’t look out of place on a pirate of old underneath a red brocade vest.

“Who are you?” she asked as she sat up in the bed. “How do you know my name? What are you doing here?”

He knelt beside her bed and extended his hand toward her. She placed her hand in his, feeling inexplicably drawn toward him.

“I am Killian Jones,” he said. His voice was low and rich and it wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. “I am the Sovereign of these lands, and you are my love. I’ve waited for you for 250 years.”

“What?!” she cried, pulling her hand from his. His last words made her mind race back to what Neal had said earlier as she quickly put the pieces together. “You’re the vampire!” She couldn’t contain the horror in her voice or, she was sure, on her face. “Oh, God! You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” She could hardly believe what she was seeing, visual confirmation of Neal’s words. She pulled her legs toward her chest and scooted as close to the head of the bed as she could, trying to present as small a target as was possible. “Why me? Neal said you targeted his family! I’m not his family, yet!”

“No, my Swan,” he assured her, gentle compassion beset on his features, his hand still outstretched, her superpower as silent as could be. “I am not here to kill you. You are my bride. Returned to me. As promised.”

Bride? Returned to me? As promised? “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nobody promised anyone anything!” she exclaimed. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she extended a hand towards him, and he gently clasped her fingers.

Love. A deep and abiding love that she’d never known swept over her as pictures filled her mind. Pictures narrated by the man kneeling before her.

“King Malcolm demanded tribute from our small but prosperous kingdom. He was nothing but a tyrant, and I refused. Our people were loyal and strong, and I knew that we could defeat him if it came to battle. The dawn when we were to meet, our lookout ran to me with his spyglass. I opened it and trained it across the valley to where his army was mustered.”

A gasp of profound grief filled her mind as she saw what Killian saw through the spyglass. A woman tied to a post, her face covered with a dark bag. The obvious leader of the army, King Malcolm, grabbed the bag off of the woman’s head, her long blonde hair settling about her shoulders. There wasn’t time to get a good look at her face, but the scream of anguish from Killian told her that whoever it was, was someone of great import to him. He sounded the advance - the thunder of hooves and battle cries of the men deafening in Emma’s mind. Watching the scene now through Killian’s eyes, as they got closer to the opposing army, King Malcolm drew his blade across the throat of the blonde woman, Killian’s cry of fury now filling her mind. The armies met, and Killian was relentless against his adversaries until he met King Malcolm himself. The fighting between the two men was brief - Killian obviously a far superior swordsman. It was only moments before Killian’s sword was buried in his enemy’s gut, withdrawn and brought down again where King Malcolm’s neck met his shoulder, literally slicing the man in two.

The battle was over, and Killian rushed to the dead woman on the other side of the valley. Emma watched through Killian’s eyes as he gently turned her face towards him. Emma’s breath caught and she couldn’t look away from the ashen visage of Killian’s beloved- her own face. His grief and despair poured from his lips as he gathered his love to his chest, uncaring of her blood that covered him.

Killian’s narration resumed.

“King Malcolm was soundly defeated, paying for his hubris with his life. But not before he took my greatest treasure away from me. My Swan, my bride, my Emma. We’d only been married a few months when I rode away to war. If I’d known what his plans were…”

His words drifted off for a moment before resuming again. “I’d heard of a witch who lived in the woods near the border of our kingdom. I’d left her in peace because, to my knowledge, she didn’t use her magic for nefarious purposes. I took the body of my beloved to her, mad in my grief, hoping that something could be done to bring my love back to me.”

Emma watched as Killian emerged into a clearing with a small hut on the opposite side. She could smell the woodsmoke tinged with aromatic herbs from the chimney. Could hear his gasping cries and the sound of his pounding fist upon the door. When it opened, Emma gasped in horror. The witch had no face. Long matted red hair framed a pale visage with thick black stitches where her eyes should be. She spoke in an otherworldly whisper as she invited Killian Jones in.

He laid the body of his beloved on a pallet on the floor and begged the witch to do something, anything. Holding her hands out in front of her, Emma gasped again at the bright blue eyes in the center of each of the witch’s palms. She slowly moved her arms back and forth, the eyes darting around, before she began to speak.

“I am powerless against the bonds of death, Killian Jones,” she murmured, but with an undertone that reminded Emma of the swell of the ocean pounding against the rocks of the seashore. “But know this, your love will return to you one day, not by my hand and many lifetimes hence. I will give you a potion that will enable you to live until that time. When she returns to you, her True Love's Kiss will restore you to life and you will live out your days in peace.”

The witch fell silent and her arms dropped to her side, the unnerving eyes now covered from Emma’s sight. The witch turned to a shelf laden with bottles and her hands moved surely among them until they settled on the one she sought. She turned back to Killian and handed him the bottle before speaking again.

“Drinking this will give you endless life, and will freeze time within the confines of your kingdom. The night will be your domain, and you will thirst for blood. Until the time your True Love returns to you.”

Killian uncorked the bottle and downed the contents in one go. It was only seconds later that he doubled over in excruciating pain, his cries surely reaching far beyond the woods in which they all stood. It seemed forever to Emma, but his cries finally came to an end and he straightened upright again. His eyes darted around the hut before landing on the witch. Emma could feel the struggle within him - his thirst for blood was overwhelming, but his gratitude for the witch’s prophecy and the potion kept him from slaking that thirst on the first available person he met. His hands shook as he reached out toward her, expressing his thanks. He turned and picked up his bride and quickly took his leave. It wasn’t far into the woods before the thirst took him completely. He hid his love and found a deer to satisfy his hunger. Emma had never hunted anything in her life and couldn’t watch this particular scene. As she waited for it to be over, she heard his voice in her head again.

“Since this time, I have never left my lands.” His voice was sad, resigned, the weight of centuries contained within it. “I’ve only left my halls to feed on the animals of the forest as I waited for you to return to me. Malcolm was the first, but he was by no means the last, to seek to forcibly take my dominion from me. Over the centuries, father and then son have sought to destroy me, but all have failed. Your Dr. Cassidy is the last of that line. Each one has come after me. I have never, in 250 years, sought them out. Malcolm was the one who took you from me, and he tasted my wrath. I held no ill will toward his progeny. I have only ever defended myself against their aggression.”

The scenes came to an end, and Emma was back in her room in the inn, Killian Jones, still gently holding her hand in his own, kneeling before her.

“I knew he was lying,” she whispered. “He said he didn’t know why you targeted his family, but you didn’t. They targeted you.” He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “His great-great…” Emma shook her head slightly, “whatever murdered your love… Murdered… me?” He nodded again. “And you’ve been waiting for me to return to you all this time.” Emma’s heart broke at the sadness in his eyes, and she moved to the edge of her bed, placing her feet on the floor, only inches separating them. “I can’t. I won’t allow this to happen.” She brought her hand to his face and cupped his jaw before lifting his face to hers and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

A prism of rainbow colors blew through the room, and Emma gasped as she pulled back from him. Memories of her previous life flooded her mind - the contract of marriage drawn up between her father and Killian, her love for him from the moment she laid eyes on her betrothed, the swan nickname that he’d called her when she insisted on sharing his bed on their wedding night. She remembered the happy days of their lives before Killian had ridden off to defend their home from Malcolm and then being kidnapped and murdered on a high hill, her beloved on the other side of the small valley that lay between them.

“Killian,” she cried, falling into his arms where he still knelt on the floor. She kissed him fiercely, her hands in his hair, her body held in strong arms and lined up against his from their knees to their lips. They separated briefly, and Emma thought she could drown in the bottomless pools of blue that stared back at her. His skin was no longer pale, but glowed with youth and health. Her fingers trailed lightly down his face to his neck where she could feel his pulse fluttering under her fingers.

“Emma,” he whispered. “You’ve returned to me, and brought me back to life.” He was too overcome to say anymore and rose to his feet, his beloved still in his arms. Taking a deep breath, he was completely without words to express the love and joy flowing through him, not to mention the blood flowing through his veins! He was alive! At long last! He lived again, and his Emma, his Swan, was in his arms after 25o years. He captured her lips with his, teeth and tongues clashing with all the fervor of lovers long separated, finally reunited.

He lowered her to the bed and drew back, his eyes raking over his beloved, taking her in from head to toe - green eyes like emeralds glazed with passion, blonde hair fanned out over her pillow, her lips were red and kiss swollen, her chest heaved, nipples at attention as she struggled to catch her breath. Her long long legs writhed on the bed, seeking friction for the arousal she clearly felt.

“You are so beautiful, my Swan,” he murmured. His fingers trailed lightly down her arms, then sought the bare skin underneath the bodice she wore. She gasped and grasped the bottom of the garment before drawing it over her head in one smooth movement, baring her breasts to him.

Killian quickly removed his own clothing as she took her bottoms off before returning to her on the bed. Stretching out beside his love, his fingers lightly grazed the side of her breast as his mouth sought hers again. His moan of rapture came from the depths of his very soul. His beloved wife was returned to him. There were times over the past two and a half centuries that he despaired of ever seeing this day, but now that it was here, it seemed all these years without her were but a blink of an eye.

The fervent and frantic motions between them calmed when Killian captured her lips. Emma clung to him, drawing him closer and closer to where she desperately needed him. Her hands traced the long lines of his back from his shoulders to his ass, and delighted at the lean strength she found there. She rolled to her back, bringing him with her, settling him between her legs. Pressing her hips against his hardness, she shuddered at the exquisite pleasure that raced down her spine.

Killian released her lips and dipped his tongue into the two dimples on either side of her mouth and the one on her chin, just as he had remembered doing earlier this evening when beholding her for the first time in so long. He worked his way down the graceful slope of her neck, nibbling and biting, leaving open mouth kisses and raising gooseflesh in his wake. He circled one nipple and then the other with his tongue before drawing it into the warm cavern of his mouth, sucking gently. Her moan of pleasure went straight to his cock and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to wait to be inside her until he brought her to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

“Killian,” she breathed, writhing beneath him. “Killian, please. I need you so much.”

“Patience, dearest,” he replied in between kisses down her torso. “I must quench my thirst on you now.” She released her breath on a shaky exhale as he spread her legs and blew gently on her soaked folds. Killian couldn’t help but chuckle as she squirmed, but his need was also great, so he dove into the decadent feast laid out before him and was rewarded with a burst of sweetness on his tongue and a high pitched cry from his beloved signaling her climax. He lapped up every drop she bestowed on him before moving up her delectable body once again. Capturing her lips once more, he lined himself up with her channel and pushed into her scorching hot depths.

“Emma,” he cried, “How I love you!” He began to move, slowly at first, but then with more speed as his passion overtook him.

“I love you, too, Killian,” she moaned. “Take me. Mark me. Make me yours! Please!”

“I have missed you… so much… my love…” He buried his face in her neck and obliging her words, sucked on her pulse point, drawing heat to the surface of her skin. Her walls gripped him as she fell again, and he could hold himself back no longer, emptying himself into her with a roar of euphoria.

He collapsed onto his love, but couldn’t open his eyes for several minutes, his newly alive body utterly exhausted. When he could move again, he rolled off of her and gathered her into his arms, nuzzling and kissing her neck. She hummed in satisfaction and met his lips with her own.

“At times, I would despair that this day would ever come,” he murmured into her lips.

“But I’m here now. And I’ll never leave you,” she promised him. “We need to do something about Neal. He plans to kill you come dawn.”

Killian chuckled amusedly. “Let him come. I’m human again. I won’t be asleep like he expects. I’ll be waiting for him.”

“Let me,” Emma said, her green eyes flashing, her voice filled with passion. “His ancestor started all this - trying to take everything from you and separating us for 250 years by murder, no less. And Neal lied to me about you. Allow me recompense for all that he and his ancestors have taken from us.”

Killian stroked her cheek tenderly. “As you wish, my love.” He gathered her close, her head resting on his chest. “Once we awaken in the morning, you’ll meet him and I’ll slip away to the castle. I’ll be waiting for you in the great hall.” He smiled gently at her. “We will resume our rule of this land, side by side. As it should be.”

“I can’t wait,” Emma murmured. She reached up and kissed him gently before settling her head back on his chest again. It wasn’t long before her breaths evened out and deepened, indicating her peaceful slumber. Killian struggled to remain awake for just a few minutes more of finally holding his love in his arms again after so long. He stroked her hair gently and kissed the top of her head before his eyes slowly closed.

~*~*~

Killian peeled his eyes open and sat up, alarmed, to find himself alone in his chambers at his castle. The magic within him - that bound him and his kingdom - always made sure that he was safely ensconced in his castle before dawn. And the remnants he could feel now left within him must have done the same. Even if it was no longer necessary. He gasped in fear and looked down at his hands in a panic, terrified he might find it was a dream and he was still a vampire. The sun was just beginning to rise over the trees and into his chambers and he could clearly see that his hands were warm and pink with life, rather than the pale ashen color he’d seen for so long.

He rose from his bed, still naked, his eyes darting around his chambers. It was dawn, and he was awake! He was alive! He hadn’t seen the sun in 250 years and it was glorious! The comparison to Emma’s hair was completely unavoidable.

Emma!

She’d be here with Dr. Cassidy soon, and Killian needed to prepare himself. He dressed himself carefully and proceeded to the great hall to receive his guests.

~*~*~

Emma and Neal approached the castle, bold as brass. When she’d awoken alone that morning, Killian’s clothes were still scattered around the room, testimony to the night of passion she’d shared with her love, besides the sizable hickey he’d left on her neck. She’d needed to leave her hair down to hide it from Neal when they left the inn on horseback about forty-five minutes before. Now they could clearly see the gates of the castle, wide open.

As if they were expected.

It was exactly the same as her memories of her past life. As they passed under the portcullis, she knew what she’d see - the wide courtyard where the market day was held weekly, or the army Killian commanded practiced drills. They approached the keep, and Emma held her breath. Neal strutted forward as if he was the lord of this castle, and Emma ground her teeth in anger.

She followed behind him as he consulted the notebook he’d shown her the night before. They continued through the halls of the castle until they entered the Great Hall. Emma’s heart leapt to see Killian on the other side, silently waiting for them.

“Killian,” she cried, running to him, completely uncaring about Neal’s reaction. He rose to his feet, unspeakable joy on his face. Catching her in his arms, their lips met in a kiss so full of passion, she never wanted it to end.

Much too soon for her liking, Killian pulled back.

“My love,” he whispered, trailing his fingers down her cheek. The move was so full of tenderness, it made Emma want to weep.

She met his sapphire gaze with her own and whispered. “Soon,” she assured him before turning to Neal, who stood dumbfounded where she’d left him by the doors. Taking slow, deliberate steps, Emma crossed the room until she stood just a few feet away from her former fiancé.

“I imagine you have some questions,” she began. “Are you wondering how we could possibly know each other, what that kiss was about, exactly what is going on here? I am very happy to answer those questions,” she said with a satisfied smirk on her face. She paused for a moment, before taking another slow and deliberate step toward him. “But not before you hear what I have to say to you.”

Another step.

“You lied to me,” she accused softly. “You said that this monster had a vendetta against your family, and you didn’t know why. When actually, it was the other way around. Your family held on to a hopeless vendetta against him.” The blood drained out of Neal’s face, and Emma couldn’t help the small smile that touched her lips. “You and each of your male ancestors have come against him. Never has he come against you. Not once in two-hundred-fifty years.”

“Emma…”

“Now, for the questions… And the answer is really all rolled up into one. What exactly is going on here? Justice. You came here, the last in a long long line, expecting to finally destroy the vampire whom you claim has plagued your family for centuries. When actually, my True Love and I will be exacting retribution for your and your family’s crimes against us.”

Neal’s voice shook as he whispered, “True Love?”

“Yes,” she replied. “True Love. And you want to know how I know?” She nodded at him, a knowing and gleeful smile on her face. “I know because after he told me the truth, his kiss brought the memories of my past life back to me and brought him back to life again. This vampire has waited for me to return to him after your ancestor murdered me in cold blood, in full view of him and the armies they both led. Since then, your family has come against him, over and over again, until this very day. You are the last. And you will be the last. With no son to take up your vendetta, we will live out the rest of our lives in peace.”

With those words, Emma reached into the bag at her side where she carried all the weapons Neal had brought along on his fruitless quest. Quick as lightning, she pulled out the wickedly sharp wooden stake that he’d planned to plunge into Killian’s chest and plunged it into his neck. Blood poured through his fingers, too much to be stopped. He staggered forward, his other arm reaching for her, his eyes glazed and unseeing. Emma stepped back out of his reach into Killian’s warm embrace.

It was only moments before he was completely still. Emma turned to face her True Love and was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s over,” he said in a whisper.

“It’s over,” she repeated, nodding gently.

“And you’ve returned to me.” A tear slowly tracked down his face as he looked into her eyes and tenderly, reverently stroked her cheek.

“And I’ve returned to you.” She lifted her hand to his face and drew him down to her lips, her kiss promising forever.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think!!

#cssns24 #return to me #krystal writes #art by motherkatereloyshipper

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matthews-69 · 12 days ago

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Uh...hi. I'm not really sure what I'm doing on this app.

I'm Paul 69.

Yes. 69. Go ahead and laugh.

I'm one of the many clones of Paul Matthews made by CCRP, and after realizing that there were other clones here on Tumblr, I thought that maybe I should give this place a shot.

...wait, I'm supposed to do some facts about myself, right?

Pronouns: He/Him

Aroace

I probably have autism, but I've never been officially diagnosed.

I definitely have anxiety. (Also have never been officially diagnosed)

I work at Starbucks. If you've ever seen the guy who looks like Paul with the name "Mathew Paulton" taking your order...that's me.

I have a pet rat! I love her very much!

Also if you work for CCRP, please don't tell the higher-ups I'm here. I don't want to go back to the basement-

[OOC UNDER THE CUT :3]

Yo, what's up! It's ya boy Joey (or Disaster) from @multi-fandomdisaster back at it again with another OC rp blog!

Let's jump straight into the ground rules:

NO NSFW!!! Paul 69 may be a legal adult, but I sure as heck am not, so please refrain from explicit content! Anything explicit sent in will be ignored and deleted. That being said, dirty jokes are allowed!!! (this is a character with "69" in his name. I'd almost be disappointed if someone didn't end up making a joke about it /silly) If you're unsure if something would be taken as explicit or not, don't be afraid to message me privately and ask!

Hatchetfield-general triggering topics may be brought up. I will try to tag anything potentially triggering with "tw: [insert trigger]" as best as I can, but I might forget at times. PLEASE let me know if you'd like me to add a trigger tag! I want y'all to stay safe out there!!!

Any of 69's dialogue will look like this, while rp direction will look [like this]. All ooc stuff will be written in red and found under the tag #Disaster says stuff

And speaking of tags, here's what the tagging system will look like:

General in-character posts: #6-9 posts

Rp replies: #6-9 responds

OOC posts: #Disaster says stuff

(I would have made it "#69 posts" & "#69 responds", but it turns out that if you put the number "69" in the tags of a post, Tumblr immediately assumes your post is explicit and throws it into the void, never to be seen again, so that's fun lmao)

If you have any ooc questions about the character, don't be afraid to send an ask here or at my main account! I'm always happy to talk about my silly little guy lol

And with all of that, I hope you have fun and have a great day!!! :D

#6-9 posts #intro post #hatchetfield rp #hatchetfield roleplay #hatchetfield ask blog #Disaster says stuff #hatchetfield

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holdmytesseract · 2 years ago

Text

The Price of Love

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N

Summary: You convince Loki to take you with him on a charity event, together with some other Avengers. What starts as a nice and exciting little trip to Canada, ends in a nightmare...

Warnings: pregnancy things/symptomps, overprotective Loki, almost nudity? thirst, suggestive smut?, swear words, Loki being the best hubby and dad possible, angst - quite a lot of angst, guns, bad people, violence, fighting, injury, blood, Loki going FERAL and being a bit... brutal, death, fluff

Word Count: 7,9k

a/n: Here it is, guys! The (almost) 8k words Baby Fever rollercoaster ride. 🫡 Yep... I went absolute bananas with this one. 😂 I love every bit, though. 😁 The story behind this fic? Well... @iamlokisgloriouspurpose made a post about a story she was looking for (some of you might remember) a few weeks ago. It was something about Loki x pregnant!reader, where she accidentally gets hit or something and Loki is overprotective, etc. She couldn't find the fic and I was like: Hey, would you want me to write something along that? And @iamlokisgloriouspurpose was like: Heck yeah! Well, here we are. You know how much of a sucker I am for such things... I couldn't resist. 🤷🏼‍♀️👀 Anyways... I hope y'all like it! 😁

Baby Fever Crew: Tagging y'all again in the comments! 😊💚

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"No, love, absolutely not," Loki stated; shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. "I won't allow that. Not in your condition. You rather stay here with Ella."

You raised an eyebrow, and put your hands on your hips. "In my condition? Babe, I'm pregnant! That's not a condition. I thought you knew that?" Loki snorted. "Well, to me it is." You sighed. "Okay, look, I understand your worry - but geez... Ease up a bit. I didn't even pass the first trimester. And besides, this is just a charity event. Not in the slightest dangerous." Your husband's jaw clenched, as his brain searched for the right words.

"I know, Y/N. I am more than aware of that, but..." He paused; unlocking his arms to tenderly cup your tiny, almost still invisible baby bump. "We fought so long for this, darling. Against heartbreak, sadness - Norns, even depression, and now that we are finally blessed with this little wonder growing in there, I'm not letting it go again. It was so hard for us to get pregnant. I'm not going to risk it."

You swallowed; raised your hands to cup both his cheeks. "I know, babe, I know..." You whispered; on the verge of giving in - but then you remembered a very important thing. "But you'll be there, too. You can always have an eye on me and protect us. I promise, that I'll never leave your side. And that I'll be careful. Plus, you wouldn't need to worry about our princess as well, 'cause she's more than safe with her grandparents on Asgard. She's already so excited to go there."

You could practically see the gears turning in his head. "How does that sound? What do you say?" A low grumble of disliking rumbled through Loki's chest, but in the end, he gave in with a sigh. A decision he was going to regret later. "Alright, fine."

Only a few days later, you and Loki were on your way to Canada - Calgary, to be precisely; together with Bruce, Peter and Tony. It wasn't a very big charity event, but an important one nevertheless.

Once the Quinjet landed, Tony immediately made sure to get everyone to the hotel you were staying in. After checking everyone in, the billionaire was quick to get to his room. "Alright, team... We'll meet at exactly eight p.m. tonight. No minute later. We have to be on time." He pointed at everyone - the longest at you and Loki. "Especially you two lovebirds. Understood?" Everybody nodded well-behaved. "Sure thing, Mr. Stark." Except Loki. The god just rolled his eyes. Tony ignored him and instead turned on his heels to leave the lobby. "Now if you'd excuse me... I've got a terrible headache, caused by all the sweet talk coming from Laufeyson's mouth. Ta-ta." From the corner of your eyes, you could see Bruce shaking his head. "He's such a diva sometimes." "Sometimes?" Asked Loki in return, causing you - and even Peter to giggle.

Loki stopped mid-sentence, to ask you this question in an almost offended voice, once he had turned to face you. You put the t-shirt in your hands down and looked at him confused; blinking. "Umm... Unpacking our stuff?" He immediately shook his head and walked over to you. "No, you're not." Loki said in a firm tone, taking the suitcase away. "You are going to lay down and rest. We can unpack later or even tomorrow. The flight was very stressful and exhausting - and the next few days are going to be packed and eventful as well. I don't want you to overdo it." "But, babe, I-" "No." He shushed you, placing both hands on your hips. "No excuses. You promised me, remember?" You sighed, knowing that he was right. You did promise him. "Alright, alright, fine. I'll go, lay down."

Loki took your hand and guided you to the hotel room you shared - and it was absolutely beautiful. Modern, luxurious, cosy - perfect for a few days. Tony had planned to take everyone to a few fan events and Comic Con's around Calgary after the charity event. Something you were definitely looking forward to.

"Tony definitely has a nice taste in hotels... Can't deny that. Don't you think, babe?" You looked over at Loki, who had just pulled the t-shirt he wore over his head. "It's more than likely the only thing Stark has a good taste in." You couldn't help yourself but to laugh. That laugh quickly died in your throat, though, when Loki slipped the jeans – which covered his lower body, over his hips and down his thighs; leaving him only in his black underwear - and socks. You bit your lip; tried not to stare or give into your raging pregnancy hormones. It was difficult. So, you decided to stop watching your husband strip and rather start unpacking your luggage. "I'm going to take a shower now, love. It was way too hot in the Quinjet. Stark always pretends he doesn't know that I am half a Frost Giant… And after that, I'm taking you out for dinner. You have to- What are you doing?"

Loki smiled and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. "Thank you." You wrapped both your arms around his torso, in order to hug him. But then another idea crossed your mind, and you let your hands wander down to the waistband of his briefs. "I could join you in the shower, you know..." A dark chuckle rumbled through his chest. You really thought you had him for a minute, "As tempting as this sounds, my queen..." but then he stepped out of your embrace. "But no. Not now. Not today. Please rest. It'll be good for you and the baby." Once again you sighed. It couldn't be helped. Loki stood his ground. "Okay, okay, I give up." Loki smiled and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, "Good girl." before he left for the bathroom.

Later that day, after having eaten dinner, you and Loki got ready for the charity event. While your husband got dressed, you decided to pay the shower a visit as well - for which you took your time. Getting ready for such a big event wasn't just done in a few minutes. Funnily, you had absolutely no idea what Loki was going to wear, so you chose to wear a black, elegant dress, which wasn't too sexy and overdressed, but also not completely innocent. It reached to your ankles and had a slit on the left side of your leg; stopping at your thighs. It was also tight around your waist, but not too tight - since you decided to not show the world (and teammates) yet that you were pregnant again. Okay, admittedly it could be easily mistaken by weight gaining, but you didn't want to risk the rumours to spread. After fixing your hair and applying some decent makeup, you were ready to go. You hoped Loki was ready as well, because a look on your phone told you, that it was almost time - and you didn't want to face Tony's diva wrath.

"Babe, are you rea-" Your words died in your throat, when you closed the bathroom door behind yourself; eyes landing on the god. He sat on the big, king-sized hotel bed; legs spread wide and phone in hands - which wasn't an unusual thing. It was the outfit he chose to wear, that took your breath away...

A black shirt, which hugged his arms and torso snugly; causing his biceps to bulge. The sleeves were rolled up, leaving his forearms deliciously bare. He had left the first few buttons of the shirt undone, exposing his chest in an almost sluttish way. With that not enough... Black, tight suit trousers covered his muscular thighs and legs; held together by an equally black leather belt. All this was paired with shiny, black dress shoes.

"Sweet Lord have mercy... Have you planned to get me pregnant all over again, looking like that, or... Perhaps to kill me?" Loki just chuckled, shaking his head, "Absolutely not, my queen." and stood up, "As much as I'd love to do that, though..." straightening his shirt. "I can't, because I already did." He practically growled; winking at you. "I just wanted to give you something to look at. Besides, it's for charity - and you should look adequate on such a big event, right?" You were speechless. Entranced by his look and the words leaving his mouth.

And if this wouldn't have been erotic enough, he overcame it...

Those wild raven locks of his, were bound together, styled into a high manbun, with only a few loose curls being loose; neatly tucked behind his ears. On his fingers twinkled beside his wedding band a few other rings in black and emerald green; completing his outfit. Loki looked drop dead sexy. You could've jumped him. Right then and there - and he knew. Oh, he knew. The mischievous smile and cheeky look he was giving you said it all.

"You are a naughty, cheeky little shit sometimes, do you know that?" Your husband just chuckled once again and stepped over to you, in order to place his big hands on your waist. "I am aware of that, yes - and I know how much you love it." You smiled; trailing your fingertips over his exposed chest. "Hell yes, I do." He smirked mischievously and leaned down to kiss you passionately.

His oceanic blue eyes roamed over your body then; wetting his lips. "You look absolutely stunning as well, my love. Beautiful as ever. I especially appreciate..." His hand found the slit in your dress; cool palm gliding over the hot skin of your thigh. "...this little feature." You giggled like a schoolgirl - high on love and pregnancy hormones. "Thanks, Lokes - but I don't look quite as sexy as you do. You are going to break so many hearts tonight, babe." Loki shook his head. "That may be true, love, but I'd never break yours. Never." "I know."

About twenty minutes later, the whole team - including Pepper, who joined the party a bit later, 'cause she had a meeting this morning - arrived at the charity event, where already a lot of fans and paparazzi waited... At the red carpet. "Are you ready, my love?" Loki asked; taking your hand into his and helping you out of the limousine Tony had rented. "More than ready."

Together, with the other Avengers you set foot on the red carpet; cameras flashing around you like lightning. Loki kept on holding your hand tightly, not letting you go. He still wasn't convinced of your idea in joining all this - him. You noticed it; felt it. Recognized it in the way he acted around you. "Loki! Loki! Loki!" From everywhere around you, fans (mostly girls, of course) and paparazzi screamed his name; literally praising him like the god he was. But Loki only had eyes for you. He didn't give the people that much attention; his number one priority being you - his pregnant wife and mother of his little princess.

Nevertheless, he couldn't help himself but to throw one of his smouldering looks at the crowd, causing several women to faint - you were sure of it. After that, he redirected his attention back to you. "Everything alright, my love?" You nodded, squeezing his hand. "Of course. We're good." Loki gave you a smile, then turned to lean closer to your ear. "Stay close to me, please. I know this is just a charity event. And I am also very aware that you can defend yourself, but I told you once and I'm telling you again... I don't want to risk anything. I hope you understand." There was so much love, adoration and worry in his eyes; it almost caused your legs to give in.

Once more you nodded. "I promise. I promised you already." He smiled the softest of smiles and lifted your hand to his lips, earning a lot of coos and 'Aww's' from the hundreds of people at the display of affection. "Thank you. Somehow, I have a very bad feeling about all this. I don't know why, but... It's present." And Loki was proven right with his gut feeling. He watched you like a hawk during the whole evening, but he couldn't prevent it from happening...

The god was talking together with Bruce to a few of the important people who organized this event, when you were approaching the group of men, after getting yourself something to drink with Pepper. "Apologies to interrupt, but… Babe, do you have a second?" Loki immediately turned to face you, "Sure, darling." and placed a hand on the small of your back. "Please excuse me for a moment, gentlemen, but my lady is in need of me." He gave the men one of his charming gentlemen-like smiles and guided you a bit off sides from all the people.

"What's the matter, my love? Are you alright?" "Actually, I feel a bit woozy and..." You grimaced and placed both your hands on your lower abdomen; Loki's hands following suit. "Uh... Nauseous." Your husband frowned. Sure, this wasn't uncommon and it happened when you were pregnant with Ella as well, but that didn't stop him from being worried and protective. "Do you wish to leave?" "No. It's not that bad. I think I'm just going to pay the bathroom a visit; freshen up a bit and take a breath." Loki nodded, "Alright. I'll accompany you." and was more than ready to walk ahead, when you stopped him. "I think I can do that alone. It's just a visit to the bathroom. I won't be gone for long." The god bit his lip; clearly not convinced by your suggestion. "I don't know, I-" "Hey..." You gently grabbed both his hands squeezing them. "I'll be just fine. I don't want to drag you all across the building just for this. Besides, it's the ladies bathroom and you're a man, so..." Loki sighed, but once again, gave in. "Fine. Be careful, yes? And if it gets worse, we'll leave immediately." "Yes, Sir," you promised and pressed a quick kiss on his lips, before you let go of his hands and left for the bathroom.

Both, Loki's and Bruce's eyes widened immediately. They exchanged one look - and started to run, into the direction from where the woman came from. It led both men into the big, fancy stairwell of the building. Scanning the area, they searched for the said men - and found them quickly. They had barged through the doors on the bottom floor and were now standing in the entrance area, looking up. The Hydra logo shone bright on their black battle suits. "Hydra," stated Bruce, recognising the danger as well. "Stark, get your billionaire ass over here. We have a problem." Loki spoke through his little communication device. Not a second later, Tony flew over their heads, dressed in his suit, of course. "Already on it, Reindeer Games." "We have to get all the people out of here." The god nodded; green seidr washing over his body and changing his suit into his armour. "You do that, Banner. I'll go find Y/N." "No. She'll be alright, Loki. She can look after herself. I firstly need your help. I can't get all those innocent people out of here alone. Tony can distract those guys, but not for long."

That was the last time he had seen you for quite a while. At first, Loki was all cool with it, giving you the time to freshen up and calm your pregnancy symptoms - but after fifteen minutes, he got suspicious and an uneasy feeling started to grow within his stomach. So, he started to look around for you; asking his colleagues on the way, if they had seen you. Unfortunately, they didn't...

"Banner... Have you seen Y/N?" The doctor shook his head. "No, sorry. I haven't seen her in a while to be hon-" Bruce's words got interrupted by a loud noise - causing everyone inside the big hall to freeze. "What was that?" Loki's question didn't need to be answered by Bruce. A woman in black high heels and a sparkling pink dress literally ran inside the hall, screaming. "Guns! Gun! There are men with guns!"

Loki didn't like this. Not at all, but he knew that Bruce was right. If he wouldn't help him, a lot of innocent people would get more than likely hurt or killed. "Fine. Let's go." Bruce nodded and started to run off; Loki following him. "There's an emergency stairway, right down that hall. We'll get them out there."

That's what the two Avengers did then. Evacuating all the people. Loki was unable to stay focused, though. His thoughts were constantly travelling to you. He had a bad feeling about this from the beginning - and he had been right. He just hoped that you were alright...

After emptying your stomach one last time, you walked on slightly wobbly feet out of the cabin and to the sink. Looking in the mirror, you noticed that you were quite a bit pale. Well, no wonder. After throwing up that much... Once more you sighed and turned on the tap to splash yourself with some cold water and to rinse out your mouth to get rid of the foul taste. Then you took some more deep breaths and when you felt slightly better, you decided to find your husband and leave. So, you stepped over to the door and opened it - only to walk into an absolute chaos. It was loud. Gunshots sounded from everywhere. Rubble was laying around; the insides of the building was quite a bit damaged. Then you saw Tony in his suit flying around and shooting at something. You blinked. Whatever it was what happened and what was going on... How could you not notice?! Still in some kind of shock, you walked to the still intact railing of the open hallway, in order to find out what the fuck was happening. A mistake. A wrong decision. A decision your still woozy and foggy brain didn't think through. With horror in your eyes, you witnessed the literal army of what seemed to be Hydra men fighting against Tony and Pepper. Help..., you thought. They needed help. You were about to switch into your fighting mode, when you suddenly heard Loki's voice from far away. "Y/N! Watch out!" The warning came too late. Before you could even make out the sniper from across you, the bullet had hit you already. The force of it threw you to the ground. The last thing you heard before everything got dark, was the heart wrenching scream, which left your husband's lips.

While Loki, Bruce, Tony and even Pepper fought the army of Hydra supporter, you were still in the ladies bathroom; not having a clue what was going on. Yes, you had heard a loud noise, but were too occupied with not missing the toilet bowl while throwing up. On the way to the bathroom, your condition had suddenly switched very fast from 'not that bad' to 'I'm going to throw up any minute now'.

Well, that's where you were now... Hanging over the toilet; literally puking your guts out - all the while trying to not ruin your dress and hair. "Oh gods..." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You felt awful. Perhaps it was for the best to accept Loki's offer and return to the hotel. But... What to tell the others? The only people who knew of your second pregnancy were Loki, Ella and Natasha. Nobody else. After all, you told your best friend to not tell it a single soul - and you knew you could trust her, so... Bruce wouldn't know. Just like Tony and Pepper. And you had no intention in telling them. At least not now. You wanted to wait until you passed the 'critical' first trimester. Although, the little Frost Giant inside you was growing fast and soon you wouldn't be able to hide it for much longer anyway. Ugh, you thought. Decisions, decisions...

Loki was powerless. He couldn't do anything about it; was too far away from the sniper to stop him. With wide, teary eyes, he saw your body hitting the ground. For a moment, time seemed to stand still for him. He didn't even notice how he screamed. But then the harsh realisation hit him, and he started to run, getting as fast as somehow possible to you.

His heart was beating fast against his ribcage when he saw your limp, seemingly lifeless body - and the tears started to fall rapidly. "No, no, no, no, no!" Loki didn't care that there was a battle going on. All he had on his mind now was you - and his unborn child. He ran over to you and fell to his knees beside you, gently turning your body around. There was blood and a big, gushing wound on your shoulder. Luckily your shoulder. Loki's shaking hand quickly went to check your pulse. It was there. You were alive. Utter relief flooded his body. "Oh thank the Norns, thank the Norns." He praised; voice breaking. But then he noticed how much blood you were losing and that your bullet wound needed medical attention - unless you were going to die. So, he switched on his communication device. "Banner, get over here. Quick. Third floor. Ladies bathroom." The answer came prompt. "On my way." "Bring every medical supply you can find on your way. And hurry up! It's urgent!"

While Bruce was on his way, Loki sat down beside you. He took one hand of yours into his and placed his other hand on the wound. He wouldn't be able to heal you, but he could slow the blood loss. He closed his eyes for a moment; green seidr starting to flow from his palm. "Hold on, my love. Norns, please hold on. I'm here." Loki squeezed your hand, before he gently let go again to cup your lower stomach. Seidr started to pour out of his other hand as well. He tried to feel the baby; knowing well that it was too early for him to feel him or her. And he was right. He couldn't feel them. He couldn't tell if they were alright or not. With a frustrated groan, he stopped his attempt - just as worried as before. Anyways, he had to try, didn't he?

Only a few minutes later, Bruce came running down the hall. The doctor's eyes widened, when he came to witness the scene in front of him. "What happened?!" It was, of course, as clear as a day what had happened, but the question bubbled out of him nevertheless. "Sniper," Loki answered dryly; then quickly removed his hand, so Bruce could take a look. He nodded; examining your shoulder. "There's an exit wound. That's good. Means the bullet went through. Nevertheless, we have to patch this up. Unless she's going to bleed out. We have to get her out of here." Loki clenched his jaw. "I am very aware of that, Dr. Banner," he hissed. "Just do something. I can't lose her." His teary, frightful and worried eyes met Bruce's brown ones. "Please," Loki added, desperately. The doctor nodded and reached for the medical supplies he found on his way... Plasters, bandages, disinfection, gloves and other things. "I'll try my best to stop the bleeding as good as possible, but- Loki, what are you doing?" Bruce witnessed how the god stood up; eyes focused on something across the grand stairwell. "You got her, Banner?" The doctor frowned, "I-I think so, y-yes, what-" and followed Loki's eyes - and realised. There was a Hydra agent - and Bruce had a guess. He could count one and one together. "Loki, no. Leave him be; I-" The god turned around; the fury and anger in his eyes causing Bruce to clap his mouth immediately shut. "You got her, Banner?" He repeated his question, more firmly this time. Bruce nodded; swallowing hard. "Good." His eyes wandered shortly to the man with bright pink hair again - the one who shot you. Loki recognised him, of course. And when he saw him standing there, he lost it. Completely. Rage was taking over his system like venom. "Guard her with your life," he said and started to walk away; adding in a threatening, dark and intimidating voice: "Or you'll be the next."

Led by his untamed wrath, Loki made his way quickly to that one Hydra soldier; killing every other on his way - without even blinking. He was like in a trance; blinded by his anger. That man had almost taken one of his most precious things in his life away from him - and he couldn't just let that pass. That man was going to pay - right now.

The man with pink hair was about to escape through one of the ventilation shafts, when green seidr hit him; causing him to get thrown to the ground. He tried to reach for his rifle, but the god was quick to kick it away and out of reach for him. Before the man could even stand up and defend himself, Loki had picked him up off the hard ground and literally slammed him against the nearest wall; big hand wrapped around his neck. The man's eyes met the god's furious ones - and he just laughed. "What are you waiting for, huh? Kill me." Loki practically growled, squeezing his neck tighter. "Do you even know with whom exactly you are dealing with and what monster you just unleashed by doing what you did?" Again, the man just laughed - not even trying to fight Loki. "For such a smartass god, you are incredibly stupid, Laufeyson." The god's jaw clenched. He was losing his nerves. "What I did was the only reason I came for. Killing Agent Y/L/N was my job; knowing very well that I'd die here tonight doing it - because of you. So, what are you waiting for. Do it." Those words caused Loki to laugh dangerously - almost hysterically. This man really thought he had killed you. "Possibly. But you are the fool - not me. Being so stupid and trying to take my wife away from me… You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, little mortal," Loki whispered in a threatening voice and started to shapeshift into his Jotun form.

The man's eyes widened in shock. He didn't know. He didn't know. Loki was towering over him now; ruby eyes glowing dangerously red. "Not so brave and impudent now, are we?" The man just swallowed; still gazing at Loki shocked. "I told you. You have no idea what monster you unleashed..." He stated once more, tightened his grip a bit. "Tell me, mortal... You've got a family?" The man nodded, unable to form any words, due to Loki's strong grip. "A wife? Children?" Another nod. "So you are a father, just like me and nevertheless you agree to take the life of an innocent child's mother? That is pathetic. Weak. Cowardly. You disgust me." Loki spat. "And with that not enough... You almost took two lifes." The man's eyes widened to the size of plates; connecting the dots. "That's right. She's with child. I don't know yet if your headless, rash assassination hurt them, but… You better pray it didn't." And again, Loki tightened his grip, before conjuring a dagger - made out of ice, "But... Actually, if I think this through, you don't have to pray, because you won't get to know. It's time to pay." and rammed the dagger into his stomach, causing the man's jaw to drop and a breathless scream to leave his lips. Loki twisted the dagger and let go of him. The man fell to the ground, gasping and gurgling. The god rounded the man – like a predator its prey, before he squatted down beside him, shifting back into his Æsir form. "Next time you try to take my family away from me, do it right - or better... Don't even try it. Although, I highly doubt there will be a next time." With a clasp on the dying man's shoulder, Loki sauntered away. He had to do it. He just had to.

After Bruce had turned the Quinjet on autopilot; giving it the coordinations of the next hospital, which was fifteen minutes away, he returned to you and Loki. He checked on your wound - which was oozing a bit of blood again, but not as much. Loki's seidr and Bruce's pressure bandage had helped, but so slowly the fabric of the bandage turned from white to red as well... "I already informed the hospital. They'll be ready when we arrive," he informed the god, who stared at your unconscious body. "Good." His eyes were focused on your stomach. Loki was utterly afraid and worried, that the blood loss this bullet wound caused, could've harmed the baby. He just couldn't shake off that thought. It drove him crazy not to know - up to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. So, he had no other option but to tell Bruce...

As soon as he had quenched his thirst for revenge, his mind wandered - of course, back to you. So, without further ado, he made his way back to you.

Bruce was luckily still sitting by your side; two lifeless Hydra men laying a few meters away from them. "How is she?" Loki asked immediately. The doctor turned at the god's voice; facing him. "For the moment, stable. I stopped the bleeding, but the point still stands... She needs medical attention." Then Banner looked Loki up and down, swallowing. "Did you...?" He knew what Bruce meant, and nodded. "I had to." Loki stepped closer to you and knelt down, "Let's get her out of here and to the Quinjet." and gently took you in his arms; carrying you bridal style. "Back me up?" Bruce nodded, and turned quickly to Hulk; watching out for any enemies to come your way.

The three of you made it out of the building and to the Quinjet without any further incident. While Bruce started the engines, Loki laid you slowly down on the stretcher. "Stark. Banner and I are on the Quinjet now, bringing Y/N into a hospital and-" "Yes, yes, I know. Bruce told me. Make sure she's alright." "Are you able to make this without us?" "What kind of question is that, Reindeer Games? Pepper and I are almost done here. The civilians are safe and sound and the Hydra men reduced to a group of ten." Loki rolled his eyes at Tony's comment. "Fine."

"Banner, would you check her stomach and lower abdomen, please?" The doctor frowned. "Why? She's been shot in the shoulder, not in the stomach and-" "Just do it!" Loki cut him off; almost screaming at the man. "Alright, alright, I'll do it. Calm down, man." He went to grab a little device and held it over your stomach. Looking down at the miniature display, and not expecting to find something, Bruce's eyes suddenly widened. He lifted his head, gazing with surprise and a little shocked at the god. "Loki, that... There's... Y/N, she... She's-" "Pregnant, yes." Loki finished his sentence. "That's why I asked you to check. Is the baby alright?" Bruce blinked, and nodded. "Y-Yes, I... As far as I can tell, y-yes." "Oh thank the Norns," the god breathed out relieved. He took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, all the while he leaned down to pepper your stomach with little kisses. "Our baby is okay, my love... They are alright - and you'll be too, I promise," Loki sobbed into the fabric of your dress; holding on to you.

As for Bruce, he clearly needed a moment to grasp this. "How far along is she? How... How long do you know?" Loki turned his head to Bruce and smiled through his tears. "About ten weeks. She told me a month ago, right after she found out. Well, Ella told me, but yes..." Bruce couldn't help but smile as well. He was, of course, happy for you and Loki. "Well, in that case... Congratulations." "Thank you. I'm honestly a bit surprised that Romanoff didn't tell you anything." The doctor's eyes widened. "Natasha knew?!" Loki nodded. "She was the only one who knew. She was with Y/N when she found out." Banner nodded, "Makes sense." before he went to land the Quinjet. "Let's get her help - as fast as possible."

"Mr. Laufeyson, Sir." A doctor ripped him out of his thoughts. Loki literally jumped to his feet, looking at the young man with anticipation and hope. "How is she?" "She's alright according to the circumstances." The god let out a deep, relieved breath he didn't know he was holding. "Oh Norns… Thank you." "She was lucky that the bullet went through and we didn't have to operate." "Is the baby alright?" Not that Loki didn't trust Bruce, but he'd rather have it checked twice - and besides, Loki had to tell the doctors that you were pregnant anyways. "Yes. The baby is safe and sound." He took a deep breath, nodding. "Can I go to her?" "Of course."

While the doctors looked after you and patched the wound up, Loki sat on a chair in front of the wooden door in the white, empty hallway, waiting. Bruce had returned to Tony and Pepper.

Fear and worry were still very present in the god's head, but also guilt. He felt utterly guilty. Guilty of taking you with him on this damn event. Guilty of not accompanying you to the toilets - as stupid as it might sound. Guilty of not having been able to protect you - and his baby. It weighed him down. And nevertheless... He couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't change the past. It happened; and the most important thing now was that you were going to be alright.

No ten minutes later, Loki was sitting by your bedside; your hand in his and patiently waiting for you to wake up. To his sheer relief, he didn't have to wait long. Your eyes fluttered open; blinking; needing to adjust to the bright light. "L-" Loki was it you wanted to say, but your throat felt dry, causing you to not even get his name out. Your husband reacted immediately, of course and reached for the glass of water on your bedside table; gently helping you to drink. "T-Thank you." "Of course, my love." Then you looked around. "Loki, where... Where am I?" "In the hospital." You blinked, before you started to smile. "I survived this?" Loki couldn't help but chuckle softly. "For sure! Do you think I'd let the most important being in my life die?" You smiled even wider, shaking your head. "See?" Loki smiled as well, squeezing your hand. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?" You shook your head. "No, but... I feel utterly tired." Apparently were the pain killers working just fine yet. "Good, that's good. But you should rest then. Give yourself and our child time to overcome this accident." Your eyes widened on an instant at Loki's words; free hand flying to clutch your stomach (It was luckily not your hurt arm). "Oh my g-gosh, the baby! Are they alright?!" You panicked for a moment, but Loki was quick to reassure you. He placed his free hand on yours. "Don't worry, darling. They are completely fine." "T-Thank god."

Loki's expression changed suddenly; the guilty feeling returning. "My love, I am so sorry. This all is my fault. I promised to protect you... And I failed. I-I wasn't there when you needed me and-" You shook your head, interrupting him. "Let me stop you right there, babe." Intertwining your hand with his, you looked him deeply in his stunning blue eyes. "This is absolutely not your fault. I am the one to blame for this. Not you. I chose to accompany you. I chose to go alone to the bathroom. It was me, not you. You did your absolute best and protected me the best you could." Loki blinked. "But-" "Ah.Ah. No but's. Please... Don't blame yourself."

Your husband took a deep breath; running a hand through his luscious curls. "I... I could've lost you, Y/N. And our child. Ella could've lost her mother." "I know... But you didn't. Ella didn't. I'm here. I'm alive. The baby is alive. We are both okay - and we will make this. My shoulder's going to heal." Despite your words, there was still hesitation in his eyes. So, you tugged gently at his hand, "C'mere." encouraging him to lean down. He did what you asked him to, and leaned down. You didn't hesitate; pulled him instantly in a kiss. It was so loving and intense; almost taking Loki's breath away. "Stop. Blaming. Yourself," you mumbled in between kisses. Loki couldn't help but smirk; brushing your nose with his. "Only if you keep on kissing me." "Pfft," you laughed and shook your head, but kept on kissing him.

Once Loki assured himself, that you were, indeed alright - according to the circumstances, he decided to take a trip home and tell Ella and his parents what had happened. He had to. So, he stayed with you the whole day, night and even the next day, before he left on the following morning; travelling to Asgard.

"My, my, what do we have here? Is this a tea party? And I am not invited?" Loki asked; approaching them. Ella's head snapped, of course, immediately into his direction after hearing her father's voice. "Daddy!" She squeaked out excitedly and scrambled to stand up. Loki knew what was about to come, so he squatted down and opened his arms. Ella came running and threw herself into Loki's awaiting embrace. He swiped her off her feet and lifted the girl up; hugging her tightly. Ella giggled; both her little arms tangling around his neck. "Ah, my little princess... I missed you." "I missed you too, daddy." Loki kissed her cheek, before letting her down again.

"Welcome back, prince Loki." Heimdall greeted him with a bow of his head. Loki gave him a nod. "Heimdall." "Bear my best recovery wishes for her - and congratulations." The prince smiled. "Thank you. I shall do that."

On a horse, the god made his way to the palace. "Greetings, my prince." The guards welcomed him and let him inside, of course, where he asked for his daughter and parents. Loki got told, that Ella was with his mother in the royal gardens and the Allfather caught up in a court meeting with the royal advisors of the king from Svartalfheim. So, Loki went to the gardens. He could already see his princess and mother from afar. They were sitting on a soft blanket, which laid underneath a cherry tree, in order to shield them from the sun. Both of them had tea cups in their hands and he could swear that he also saw two big slices of cake. Loki couldn't help the smile, which spread over his lips at the scene in front of him - and when he heard Ella's sweet laughter, it only widened.

Frigga just watched with a smile on her face. She loved seeing her son being a father. "Mother," Loki greeted her; kissing her cheek as well. "Hello, son. You're back early." At her words, the god got taken back in time; remembering what had happened. "I know. I'll explain. But first..." He turned back to Ella, tickling her. Again, she bursted into fits of giggles. "I'd like to have a biiiig slice of cake. It looks so very delicious. Princess, would you go to the kitchen and ask Bjørn, if he would be so nice and give me a slice?" "O-Okay, daddy," Ella panted; still giggling and trying to recover from her dad's tickle attack. "You're a treasure, thank you." Ella smiled, then hopped away. The skirts of her pink summer dress billowing in the wind; raven curls, which just reached her shoulders, bobbing.

"I have the feeling you want to tell me something without my grandchild listening..." Frigga noted. She wasn't stupid. Loki nodded, "I do, mother." and swallowed. "I... Have good news and bad news." Loki pondered about with which news to start, but then decided on the good news. His parents didn't know yet that they were going to be grandparents - again. Perhaps this was the time to tell them. Well, at least Frigga. He'd come around the next few days to tell his father as well. Actually, Loki wanted to do this with you, but... The current circumstances didn't allow it. Hopefully you wouldn't be mad at him...

"The good news is; Y/N is... Well, she's pregnant again."

For the second time, Frigga's eyes widened - but this time out of shock. "Oh by the Norns! How is she?! Did it affect your child?" "She's alright - according to the circumstances. The bullet went through, so they didn't need to operate. She lost a lot of blood, but we made it in time to the hospital. Luckily, it didn't affect the child. They are safe and sound, steadily growing in their mother's womb." A relieved breath left the Allmother's lips. "Indeed... That's why I am back earlier. I'll take Ella with me now and tell her. Y/N's dying to see her baby again," he stated with a small chuckle. Frigga nodded. "Of course, my son." Just in that moment, they noticed Ella returning - carrying a plate with a big slice of cake on top. "Please greet her and wish her all the best. And tell us if she's getting better!" Loki took his mother's hand and squeezed it. "I will do that, for sure."

Frigga's eyes widened. "Pregnant?" The god nodded with a smile; almost unable to hold back the tears. "Yes, mother. We're having another baby." The queen gasped; hand flying to cover her mouth. She tried to hold back the tears again. "Oh Loki..." She more or less sobbed, before lunching forwards to hug him. "That's wonderful, son. I'm so delighted and happy for you and Y/N." Loki hugged her even tighter. "Me too. I'm honestly a little surprised that Ella didn't tell you. Well, we told her to not do it, but... You know how excited, small children are... We wouldn't have been mad at her if it had slipped past her lips, but well..." Frigga just giggled. "It would've been a great way to find out as well." "Oh definitely!" Loki chuckled; pausing. "I, uh, wish to tell father as well. I'm coming back in the next few days as soon as he has got more time." His mother smiled, "My lips shall be sealed then." but it dropped quite quickly again. "I'm a little afraid of the bad news now..."

"Well..." Loki started; thoughts returning to the accident once more. "We, um, we were on that charity event and... And there was an attack." He fumbled with his fingers. "I swore to protect Y/N and couldn't in that very moment. She's... She's been shot in the shoulder and is in the hospital now."

After Loki had eaten the delicious cake and spent a bit of quality time with his mother and daughter; he decided to return to you, taking Ella with him. They both bid their goodbyes and off they went through the Bifrost; only to land in a hospital - much to Ella's confusion...

"Uhh, daddy? Why are we in a hospital?" The little girl looked around; seemed quite a bit frightened. "Where's... Where's mommy?" Loki's heart felt already heavy; having to tell his child what had happened. He took a deep breath and squatted down in front of Ella, to be on eye-level with her, and took her smaller hands in his. "You know we were away to attend an Avengers thingy?" She nodded; getting visibly more nervous and angsty. "Unfortunately, we've got attacked by some really bad guys and... Mommy got hurt - but she's okay, sweetheart! She has a wound that needs to heal, but she will be perfectly fine!" Loki immediately went to calm her down, since her eyes started to get watery; tears running down her cheeks promptly. "M-Mommy's hurt? What happened?" The god swallowed. "A man tried to shoot mommy and hit her shoulder," Loki explained; gently wiping the little girl's tears away with his thumbs.

"Can… Can I see mommy?" "Of course, princess. That's why we're here." He smiled softly; looking down at his daughter, who resembled him so much. "Come here." Loki then just scooped her up in his arms; hugging her and carrying her to the room you were in. He didn't care that Ella got heavier so slowly; being not a toddler anymore. She held onto her dad, burying her face in his neck and hair. It had been clearly a shook for the little girl to learn that her mother was hurt in a hospital...

Loki gently knocked on your door and waited patiently for an answer. "Come in!" You were awake. Loki freed one hand and opened the door; stepping inside. Your eyes immediately lit up, when you saw your husband and daughter. You were so happy to see Ella. You had missed her - a lot. When you saw that Loki was carrying her, you knew exactly what was going on...

"Princess, hey," you greeted Ella softly, after your husband had carried her over to your bed. She was still clinging to her dad, but when she felt your touch on her back and especially heard your voice, her head snapped to face you. Her cheeks were reddened - just like her eyes, in which were still tears glistening. It definitely teared at your heartstrings. "Oh no, sweetie... Come here." You opened your arm (the one which wasn't hurt) for her. Loki immediately let her down and she didn't hesitate even a second; ran into your arm as quickly as possible. Sure, Ella had to overcome the obstacle which was the hospital bed; but that didn't stop her.

"Mommy," she sobbed; clinging now to you. She may have been already a big girl, but in moments like this, she was still just a child - which was more than alright. "Don't cry, baby. I'm ok." You stroked her hair in a reassuring manner and pressed soft, little kisses to the crown of her head. Exchanging a look with your husband, you could tell that it hurt him as well; seeing his daughter sad and crying. It always did.

Once you managed to calm her down, you were in for a long round of cuddles. Ella laid in your arm, cuddled against your side. At some point she had just slept in. Perhaps from the exciting vacation she's been on. Perhaps from the shock. Anyways, you were just glad she had calmed down - and so was Loki, who sat beside your bed on a chair. His oceanic blue eyes watching over you and his princess. He still had to tell you that his mother knew now about the little wonder growing within you, but that was a story for another time.

#the baby fever au #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #tom hiddleston x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki #loki laufeyson x reader #loki angst

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rayssyscourse · 4 months ago

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discussion prompt :)

thanks @snezhnayan-nights and @indigochromatic for giving me this discussion idea!! (hope y'all are okay with being tagged, lemme know if you want me to take you off)

So, we talk about safe spaces a whole lot in syscourse, so I thought it would be nice to hear what everyone actually wants in a safe space. This can be for any safe space (traumagenics, endogenics, endo supporters, anti endos, whatever); but what makes a safe space actually feel safe and helpful to you? And what is some of the best things you've gotten from safe spaces that you'd like to see more of?

#syscourse #rayssyscourse #sysconversation

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

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You're Safe With Me [Chapter Two]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you accidentally stumble upon something far bigger than the fluff and filler news stories you’ve always covered for WGN News Chicago, you reach out to the Department of Homeland Security and come in contact with Dinah Madani–but that only seals your fate as a target for the Patriot Militia and their wealthy political backers. Determined to root out the culprits deep within the government, Madani tasks an unlikely person to keep you safe while she builds her case. But when the person she expects you to go on the run with is Frank Castle–the Punisher himself–you feel anything but safe.

Warnings: 18+; series contains violence, mentions of mass shootings, angst and comfort, slow burn romance, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

Word Count: 3.6k

a/n: Got chapter two already finished so y'all could see the not so cute 'meet-cute' between Frank and Reader. Also note Reader's career shift to news reporter. Hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated! Chapter list can be found here.

Tag List: @lunaticgurly @allaboardthereadingrailroad @linamarr @hollandorks @sleeperthelazy @marcysbear @mattkinsella @mattmurdocksstarlight @xxdrixx @v4leoftears

Sitting in the stiff and worn, peeling red booth, you ran the heels of your hands over your tired eyes, pressing them roughly against your closed lids. They burned and ached horribly from overuse and lack of sleep but you tried your best to ignore it this morning. There were far more important things for you to worry about besides exhaustion right now.

Hands sliding down your face, your head turned to the window at your left yet again, your foot anxiously tapping against the outdated tile floor of Ruby’s Diner. It was the location Agent Madani had told you to be at before seven this morning when she had called you last night. Apparently whoever she'd gotten to accept the task of keeping you safe–for the undesignated length of time it was going to take for her to piece this case together–was supposed to meet you here. Other than the fact that he was ex-special forces, you'd been given no other information about the man that was supposed to keep you alive so Madani could get her witness testimony from you. She hadn’t even given you a name. All Madani had told you was that he’d find you and you’d know him when you saw him. Which still seemed weirdly ominous when you thought about it. What did that even mean?

Your thumbnail slipped between your teeth and you began to nervously chew it, your eyes scanning back and forth over the parking lot out front, jumping from car to car. Though admittedly there weren’t too many parked outside. Besides the cook in the back and the two older women who were waiting tables, there was only a family of four in the back of the restaurant and two other couples at nearby booths. For the most part, this place was empty.

You had been sitting in this booth for the past forty minutes keeping an eye on the parking lot, watching as cars came and went. You’d had breakfast while you’d waited–or rather, you’d pushed the slightly overcooked eggs around your plate for twenty minutes after taking a few bites. Your phone had died a couple of hours after that final call with Madani last night so you had no idea if she had tried to reach out to you since then. Meaning you had no idea if something had changed with the plans she had given you as you sat there impatiently waiting for whoever it was to come find you. Your panic had been steadily growing with each passing minute. Sitting here chewing your thumbnail, you desperately hoped that the wrong person didn’t find you first.

For what felt like the tenth time in the past few minutes, your hand dropped down to your pocket, about to slide your phone out to check the time, but then you yet again reminded yourself it was useless until you could buy a phone charger. Unfortunately when you'd hurriedly packed your belongings into your duffle bag last night before climbing out of your bedroom window, you hadn't thought to grab your phone charger. And once you’d gotten somewhere you had deemed ‘safe’ last night and ended that first call to Madani, you'd gotten a taxi out to a hotel where you'd barely been able to sleep the entire night. Early this morning you’d showered and made a quick exit from the hotel, having paid an exorbitant amount for a car to take you all the way out to this rundown diner in some unknown town in Michigan. Buying a charger hadn't made it onto your list of priorities.

"Would you like anything else, ma'am?"

Startling in the seat, your thumbnail slipped from between your teeth as you turned to your right, spotting the middle-aged woman who'd seated you and taken your order when you'd first arrived. She was smiling down at you now, a genuine smile that warmed her face and crinkled the corners of her green eyes. Somehow that kind smile only unsettled you as you shook your head, forcing a tight smile onto your lips.

"No, thanks," you replied. "I'm still just waiting for someone."

She held up the pot of coffee in her hand, her eyes dropping down to your almost empty mug.

"Would you like another refill?" she asked.

Your eyes slid past her, landing on the clock that hung on the wall behind her. It was a few minutes past seven already. Whoever was supposed to be meeting you should be here soon, which hopefully meant you'd be out of this diner that smelt like burnt toast and bacon. Eyes returning to the woman, you shook your head again.

"No, thanks," you repeated. "I think the three cups I've had already are more than enough."

She nodded and you began to turn in the booth, about to focus your attention back out of the window beside you to keep an eye on the parking lot again. Though you had barely moved before you’d stopped, noticing the woman was hesitating beside your table after having taken a single step. Glancing back up at her, you noticed her smile had faltered. You frowned in return, growing uneasy under her attention after everything that you'd been through in the past twenty-four hours.

"You alright, dear?" she asked softly, leaning towards you over the table. "You in some sort of trouble?"

You fought back the bitter laugh that nearly spilled forth at her question. You absolutely were in trouble, but it wasn’t like you could tell her that. Instead, you fought to keep that strained smile on your lips, your cheeks beginning to ache from the effort.

"No, I'm alright," you assured her. "Just waiting for someone."

She stared at you a moment longer, her eyes narrowing a bit as if she could see through your lie. And maybe she could, but you weren't about to tell her the truth. Eventually she gave you a single, curt nod before walking away and your attention quickly returned to the window.

But this time, movement outside in the parking lot immediately caught your attention. Your eyes landed on a man making his way across the pavement and towards the diner. Just behind him you spotted a large, dark gray van that hadn’t been parked there a couple of minutes ago. Nervously your hands dropped into your lap under the table, fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt. This had to have been the man Madani sent, right? He certainly had that sort of ex-military look about him.

But so did many members of the Patriot Militia.

Your eyes lingered on the mysterious man as he continued his approach towards the diner, his own eyes surveying the parking lot around him as he moved. You quickly began to take in his appearance the nearer he came, trying hard to piece together if he was friend or foe–if you needed to run or not. You’d already discovered a back exit down the hall by the bathrooms shortly after you arrived just for that very purpose of running.

The man looked tall, almost six foot, and he carried himself in a confident and intimidating manner that sent a chill down your spine with every step he took. He certainly looked dangerous. He was wearing a dark jacket, but even with it on you could tell the man was well-built and broad shouldered. He had dark and fairly short, cropped hair that had a bit more length on top, and as he walked you saw his hardened stare scanning the diner through the windows. The look on his face alone was enough to scare you.

There was something else about him, though. Something that almost looked familiar the more you studied him, as if you knew him from somewhere. You felt that nagging feeling beginning to tug at your mind as your eyes narrowed, your thoughts racing as you tried to place him. You’d swore you’d seen him before. It wasn’t until his dark eyes landed on you through the diner window that it hit you.

You knew exactly who that man was.

Frank Castle. The Punisher.

You’d remembered following the story about him closely in the news not that long ago. For a few months he was all anyone ever talked about at WGN’s station. Always talking about how he’d gone after all those criminals who’d played a part in killing his family. How he’d been charged with killing thirty-seven of those men. You even remembered hearing about how he had opened fire in a hospital once. A handful of local news stories you'd read at the time had painted him as a heroic vigilante of sorts because he had never killed an innocent person, only criminals. But the vast majority of news stories had painted him as a heartless murderer and a trained killer who left a trail of bodies in his wake wherever he went.

And he was supposed to be in prison, so what the hell was he doing here about to wander into a diner in a random small town in Michigan and looking at you like that?

Unless…he was here on behalf of the Patriot Militia.

You knew next to nothing about Frank Castle besides what details the media had published and presented. He didn't seem like the kind of killer who would align with a domestic terrorist group, but it's not like you knew the man personally. Maybe he was a member. Maybe someone hired him. Because you certainly found it hard to believe Frank Castle was the ex-military person that Madani–a federal agent–would've sent to keep you safe. The man was a mass murderer, if anything she'd lock him back in prison, not send him to come find you.

Which meant it was high time you ran.

Your hands flew to your wallet sitting on the table, rapidly opening it and pulling out a neatly folded pile of bills. Barely taking the time to count the money in your trembling hands, you tossed a stack of cash onto the table before hurriedly unzipping your duffle bag beside you. Throwing your wallet inside, you quickly rezipped it before sliding out of the booth, your heart pounding in your chest and the few bites of eggs you'd eaten threatening to come back up.

You began making your way towards the hallway with the bathrooms, planning to slip out of the back door and make a run for literally anywhere. Even making your way back to the interstate was better than nothing–though knowing what you knew, you wouldn't put it past the Punisher to shoot you in front of everyone driving by.

That thought didn't help the digested eggs in your stomach.

Ducking your head, you tried to look casual as you slung the strap of your duffle bag over your shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the friendly waitress glancing up from her place at the counter where she was making another pot of coffee. You could practically feel her eyes on you as you moved, making your way past the counter and towards the dimly lit hallway.

Just as you’d almost made it, you heard the ding of the bell above the entrance sound, your head involuntarily shifting over your shoulder in response. Frank Castle was standing just inside the door, his dark eyes fixed on you. The hair on your forearms bristled beneath your sweatshirt and as you turned to head down the hallway, you caught sight of the waitress suspiciously eyeing Frank.

You didn’t have time to worry about that as you continued forward. Once you’d gotten out of sight, you didn’t bother to walk. Running down the hallway, you practically slammed into the back door with your shoulder and pushed it open. Stepping outside, your eyes quickly glanced from left to right as the door behind you shut with a comforting click .

But now you didn’t exactly know what to do. You didn’t have a car and it wasn’t like you had the time to wait to call for one. Panicking, your only options were to run back towards the interstate and hope to flag down a state trooper, or to try to find somewhere to hide at the joint gas station and fast food building a decent distance down the road. Neither option offered you immediate cover and a place to hide though. Surely the Punisher was going to see you running and chase after you. But what other option did you have? Stand here and let him kill you?

Setting your jaw firm, you began to sprint off in the direction of the gas station. You weren’t by any means a marathon runner or an olympic sprinter, but you hoped somehow luck would be on your side. Hoped somehow you’d manage to throw him off your trail and find a way out of this situation.

Adrenaline pumping through you, you pushed yourself to run faster, your eyes focused straight ahead on the building down the road. Maybe it would have a bathroom you could hide in. Or maybe the fast food restaurant beside it would have somewhere discrete. Maybe someone would let you use the phone to call the police. Surely alerting them about a missing fugitive would slow Frank Castle down.

But as you inhaled a deep breath, your lungs protesting the physical exertion yet again, you’d rounded the back of Ruby’s Diner only to run straight into the man you were trying to escape. A scream tore out of you when his large hands grabbed you abruptly by the upper arms, his hands gripping you so tight through your sweatshirt you thought he’d leave bruises. He’d momentarily lifted your feet almost entirely from the pavement as he caught you mid-run.

Immediately you began to thrash in his hold, struggling to get away. He only held onto you tighter, his expression growing harder. And when another loud scream for help ripped through you, he clamped one of his large, rough hands right over your mouth before he twisted you in his grasp, drawing the back of you to the front of himself.

“Stop screamin’,” his deep voice ordered in your ear. “Madani sent me!”

Fear instantly raced through you at his words. Madani’s concern that someone in Homeland was working against her only seemed even more apparent to you now. Because you refused to believe this man was the man she’d sent to help you. He was certainly doing anything but that. Hell, he was an escaped fugitive.

Your hands reached up and tried to pry his large one from over your mouth. You heard him release a rough grunt behind you when your nails dug into his skin which only encouraged you to claw at him more. His hold only tightened further around you, almost entirely halting your movements as you tried to squirm away.

“God-fuckin’- dammit ,” he growled out. “I’m not tryin’ to hurt you but if you don’t fuckin’ stop fightin’ me you won’t give me a goddamn choice !”

His mouth lowered to directly beside your ear, your eyes going wide as his hand released his grasp on your arm to instead wrap around your waist. He pressed you firmly back into him, the thick muscular arm of his holding you in a vice against the front of himself. You could feel the hard muscle of his body pressed against your back and it only caused you to flinch in his grip.

“You’re coming with me no matter what. So I’ll give you two choices, Spunky ,” he rumbled into your ear. “You either stop fighting me and I bring you with me the easy way, or you keep fucking causin’ a scene and I bring you with me the hard way. So what’ll it be, Spunky?” he goaded. “You wanna do this the easy way or the hard way? ‘Cause you’re not outrunnin’ me and no cops are gonna be able to help you.”

Slowly, he released his hold from over your mouth, but the moment he did you let out a scream for help. His large hand immediately clamped back down over you as a curse flew out of him. You continued to thrash against him as he began to drag you around the building with you still pressed to the front of him, his hand firmly covering your mouth. It was pointless to fight him though, there was no way you’d ever overpower this man on your own.

As he led you nearer to that gray van, you heard the front door to the diner open. A woman’s voice called out and your eyes lit up with hope, your head whipping in the direction of her voice.

“Leave her alone, asshole!”

It was the waitress who’d served you. The one who’d been wondering if you were in trouble. You were instantly grateful for her right now.

“This doesn’t concern you!” Frank yelled back at the woman. “Go back inside!”

“I’m calling the cops!” she shouted back.

Your heart sank in your chest when you saw her disappear back into the restaurant to call the police. There was no way they were going to get here before he threw you into his van. Giving up for now, you stopped your struggle as the pair of you came to a halt at the back of his van. Maybe the waitress had gotten his license plate so the police could follow him. You had to hope for that at least.

“Thatta girl, Spunky,” he muttered. “Ain’t worth the fight.”

He opened the back doors one at a time before he released you from his grip. Frank grabbed your bag from off of your shoulder, tossing it into the van before he nudged you lightly with a hand against your upper back.

“Get in and sit down,” he ordered.

Reluctantly you did as he asked, moving as slow as you figured you could get away with. Because he was right, it wasn’t like you could outrun him, but you could at least hope to buy time for the police to catch up.

When you settled onto the floor of the van, you turned and rested your back against the wall of it. You watched as Frank pulled something out of his jacket pocket.

“Hands out,” he ordered next.

Your eyes went wide when you noticed the black zip tie in his hands. Your attention flew up to his face, a pleading expression on your own.

“Please, don’t,” you begged him.

His eyes narrowed back at you. “Look, I don’t know you for shit and I sure as hell don’t trust you aren’t going to run on me,” he told you. “So until I know you won’t, hands out, Spunky. I don’t feel like chasin’ you all around Michigan.”

Nervously you held both of your hands out towards him, wincing as he tightened the zip tie around your wrists. The plastic dug uncomfortably into your skin as your shoulders dropped in defeat, your hands lowering down to your lap. But apparently Frank wasn’t done. He leaned into the back of the van, digging something out of a duffle bag opposite you. Your frown deepened when you saw he had a roll of silver duct tape. He tore off a piece before turning towards you, covering your mouth with it.

“I don’t feel like listening to you screamin’ for the next few hours,” he said. “And now, thanks to your struggling, I’ve got police to deal with and a call to make. So get comfortable, Spunky. You’re goin’ to be there awhile.”

You glared back at him as he grabbed his bag, throwing the strap over his shoulder before closing both of the back doors of the van. Shifting uncomfortably on the floor, your eyes scanned the nearly empty space around you, though there wasn’t anything you saw that would help you get out of this situation. You’d figured as much.

A moment later you heard Frank open the driver’s side door before getting in and tossing his bag onto the chair beside him. He started the engine before he abruptly pulled out of the diner’s parking lot, dialing someone one-handed on his phone as he drove. You curiously sat back, listening in as he held it to his ear.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said after a minute. “I got your girl. Put up a goddamn fight about it, too.”

There was a pause before Frank scoffed.

“No, I didn’t hurt her,” he snapped back. “I don’t know what her deal is. She’s the one with the damn attitude. And now I need you to get rid of the damn cops that diner waitress called.”

Your eyes narrowed, wondering what he’d meant about you having an attitude. Because of course you’d have an attitude. The Punisher had just showed up and abducted you, was he expecting you to be smiling about that?

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill, Madani,” Frank said.

As he hung up the phone, dropping it into the center console of the van, you perked up at the mention of the Homeland agent’s name. Your eyes had once again gone wide and if there hadn’t been duct tape over your mouth you were sure your jaw would have hit the ground.

Madani really had sent the Punisher to keep you alive on the road? He was the one she’d chosen for that irritatingly long and undesignated length of time you’d be on the run?

There was absolutely no way this was going to work out at all.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle #the punisher #the punisher x reader #frank castle fanfic

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