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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Text

written in the stars

w/c: 2.7k

warnings: jus (lots of) making out

summary: using your newly acquired knowledge of astrology, you test your compatibility with tom

a/n: i was planning on making this a little blurb for y’all but then i got really into it and here we are lmfhfksjks i promise you don’t have to know anything about astrology or birth charts to enjoy cuz i broke it all down + it’s not the main focus of the fic anyways! this is mostly a day in the life with tommy boy and i hope you like it as much as i do :,) also some of this might be wrong.. i’m not an expert so yeah

•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

“right, so how does this work again?” tom watches your laptop screen with curious eyes.

you’ve been getting into astrology lately, and whatever you care about, so does he. that’s why you’re currently laid across your bed in sweats while you teach him everything you know. but first, you’ll need to do his birth chart. it’s the pinnacle of everything.

“you just have to tell me what time you were born, then it does the rest for me,” you grin, typing in the name of the website. you’d had to do some research to find a reliable one. “that’s it? you don’t need, like, my birthday or something?” tom quirks an eyebrow at the chart generator.

“i already know your birthday, babes.” you laugh softly and let your head fall onto his shoulder. “you crazy gemini.” “‘m not crazy.” he smiles despite himself, leaning his head on yours. “just got a big personality, innit? charming, clever, lots of energy,” he lists off the characteristics of his sign, which you just taught him. that lights up your whole face.

“definitely not cocky,” you deadpan, tom scrunching his nose in response. “look at you, remembering all that. you really are clever.” “well, it’s interesting.” he drapes an arm around you, fingers running up and down your side. “i quite like the idea of the universe knowing me so well.”

tapping your fingers on the keys, you hum. “you’ll love your birth chart, then. tell me when you were born.” tom grimaces and squeezes at your waist. “i don’t actually know.” “how do you not know?” you flick his back playfully, making him flinch. he pokes you so you’re even. “i’ve never thought to ask. guess i’m not that clever after all.”

those are teasing words, but you press a reassuring kiss to his cheek. he gladly accepts it and gives you one on the side of your neck.

“no, your head’s gigantic. there’s gotta be something up there.” you knock on his skull for emphasis, your hand tangling in his hair. tom lets out a breathy chuckle. “hot air,” he explains as your fingers run through the messy locks. “you’re so...” you don’t even have the words. tom does. “hilarious? witty? amusing?” he tries to finish, tilting his head back to look at you.

“yeah, all of the above,” you confer and bring your hand back down to the keyboard. your lips curve into a smirk when tom whines. he’s the biggest baby, and he makes no attempt to hide it. “why don’t you text your mom and ask for your time of birth?” you suggest, tom pursing his lips in agreement. “sure, i’ll give mum a ring. i bet she loves this stuff, too.”

you roll over to lay on your back, tom still on his stomach. he pulls his phone from his pocket and opens imessage. “ah, nikki’s an astrogirl?” you wonder. tom makes a funny face at the term. “is that what you call yourselves?” “not really. well, not officially.” giggling, you loop your fingers around his wrist. “you can be an astroboy, if you want. or girl.”

tom sighs and leans over so his face hovers above yours. “god, you’re adorable. how are you so cute?” he gently pecks your lips. you’re about to kiss back, then he moves off to your cheek. after that is your forehead, chin, and finally down the bridge of your nose. it leaves you out of breath from laughter and with warm skin.

“i can’t answer that if you’re gonna launch a kiss attack on me-“

tom’s lips capture yours in a proper kiss, which you now get the chance to reciprocate. you hold him in place with your hands on his cheeks. his eyes instantly flutter closed and lashes tickle your face. the feeling draws another giggle out of you, and right into his mouth.

“absolutely gorgeous,” tom mutters against your lips. “anyone ever tell you that?” “you do, tommy. all the time.” your voice comes out gravelly, breathless, a grin painting your face. it transfers to tom. “mm, that’s right. my pretty baby.” he’s beaming down at you. he moves on top of you swiftly, his weight held up by his elbows on your sides.

you pull apart so you can go back in harder, hands situating in his curls again. tom grabs at your hips while the kiss deepens. your legs wrap around his waist clad in joggers and allow your bodies to be even closer together. the less space between you two, the needier you both get. “love,” tom parts his lips for you. “can i get a little more?” “course you can, tommy.” your fingers tug at his curls, mouth opening slightly.

his tongue skims its way across your lower lip, asking for access. you give his hair another pull to grant it. tom lets his tongue slip into your mouth, searching for your own as his hands continue to roam your body. he’s gone from gently peppering you in kisses to fully eating your face. no complaints, though. a quiet whimper escapes you when your tongues clash.

tom starts to push up your t-shirt, eyes opening to meet yours for approval. they’re completely darkened. you nod because you can’t answer with words. your tongue is preoccupied, intertwined with his. he sets his hands on your bare stomach, your nails scratching at tom’s scalp in a way that elicits a low groan.

“feels good?” your words come out muffled, barely audible. tom still understands them. “so good,” he rasps, calloused fingers dragging along your skin. they start to move up your body as you brush your lips against his. the kiss is light, and tom’s lips feel swollen as they move. his hands are nearing your chest, your legs tightening around his waist.

it earns another sinful noise from him. you want to see just how much he’s enjoying himself, so you peek up at him. what a sight that is. his faced twisted up as he focuses on kissing you, strands of hair stuck to his forehead from your playing with it. he’s so beautiful, and deserves to know. before you can tell him, you see his phone light up from the corner of your eye.

“tom,” you mumble his name. he’s too distracted by searching for your bra hook to hear. “tommy?” you’re louder this time, his mouth moving off of yours. “what is it, love?” tom exhales, hot breath hitting your face. “i think your mom texted back.” you offer a smile and run your thumb over his plumped lips. he only squints at you.

“about your time of birth,” you clarify. “for your birth chart.” “oh, that.” he kisses your thumb, nodding to himself. “forgot we were doing that.” tom tends to get a bit carried away with anything you related. making out can go on for hours and down many different paths, but it’s not the only thing. he’s a man in love, and the woman he shares that with gets all his attention at any given time. you’re so lucky to receive it.

you nod back and feel his racing heart as it beats against yours. “if you still want to, yeah.” “i definitely do. wanna hear you say more nice things about me,” tom jokes, a smug grin pulling at his lips. your eyes narrow. “who says they’ll be nice?” you challenge and earn a snicker from him.

“alright, missy. can you hand me my phone please?” he drops his head onto your chest, big brown eyes gazing up at you. “yes, sir.” you pat his cheek and grab his phone from next to you. tom’s contact name for nikki is set as ‘Ma x’, which brings a toothy smile to your face. “here you go.” you dangle his phone above his head. tom takes it from you promptly. “thanks.”

after leaving a couple of kisses on your clothed chest, he rolls to lay next to you. “let’s see, let’s see,” he murmurs, reading his mom’s messages. you scoot closer so you can look. “ooh, lots of crying emojis,” tom remarks. “i think you made her kinda nostalgic.” you pout at the screen. copying your face, he clicks on a picture nikki attached.

“she even pulled out the birth certificate.” he shows you his phone, and you zoom in to see when he was born. “big stuff here,” you say while you read. tom takes the time to get comfortable, resting his chin on your shoulder. “looks like you popped out in the middle of the night,” you conclude, giving him his phone back. he clicks his tongue at you.

“don’t say popped out.” feigning innocence, you glance over at him. “too late.” tom types out a reply thanking his mom before tossing his phone aside. “middle of the night makes sense, though.” he bites the inside of his cheek. “i’ve always been a party animal, haven’t i?” you turn onto your side and put a hand on his chest.

“it’s in your gemini nature. or really, your tom nature.” tom does an over exaggerated wink. “i like the sound of that.” he chuckles when you hit at his chest. “bring the laptop. let’s get this thing going.” you huff as you reach over him to grab it. you’ve switched positions so you’re laying horizontally on your stomach and over his legs, your laptop in front of you.

“if we find out there’s any scorpio in you...” you shutter. “hm? what’s wrong with scorpios?” tom wonders, watching you plug his birth time into the generator. “they’re literally insane, tom. like, serial killer insane. there’s statistics.” your eyes go wide as you hit enter. he leans his head back on his arms with a wince. “never mind, then.”

a small gasp leaves your lips, you squeezing tom’s knee. “it’s done.” “what does it say? share with the audience,” tom requests so you do your thing. you’re eager to get to it, turning the laptop to show him his birth chart. “ok, so.” you point at a box a few places down. “this is your rising sign, which is basically how other people see you.”

tom reads the chart, moving his own finger along the screen. “it says i’m a... taurus. what are those like?” “in one word? boring,” you summarize, tom only frowning. “kidding, kidding.” his frown fades into a small smile at that. “they’re known for being super nice and chill... also stubborn,” you tell him and prop your head in your hand.

“so, that makes no sense. those are complete opposites,” tom comments, slipping out from under you. he settles by your side. “i don’t get how i can be a gemini and a taurus, either.” “weird, right?” you sigh in content as his hand comes to stay on the small of your back. “very strange. do you think it could be wrong?”

“are you questioning the universe’s plan?” you tease, tom drumming his fingers on you. “yes, i am.” “see, you’re stubborn! taurus things.” you scroll down to his moon sign before he can protest. tom sticks out his tongue and tries to lick your cheek, which you stop by putting your hand in his face. “next is your moon sign,” you laugh out, ignoring his boyish behavior.

“that controls your emotions and private thoughts,” you elaborate and look presently surprised when you see what tom’s is. “yours is sagittarius. that’s a cool one.” “is it? how come?” tom sneaks a few kisses down the shell of your ear. “you guys are really open-minded and into things that challenge you.” he nods, signaling for you to go on. you turn onto your back so you’re looking up at him.

“you’re all about your freedom, though. it’s hard to hold you down for too long.” grinning, tom brings his face into your line of vision. “that must mean you’re a real force because i’m not going anywhere.” he nudges your nose with his, lips ghosting over yours. you return the smile and meet him halfway for your lips to connect. “anytime soon,” tom adds on in a whisper, kissing back easily.

this one doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t need to. it’s just one of those kisses that makes you feel each other’s love, no matter how you go about it. they’re essentially your own made up love language.

you’re still smiling when your lips detach, fingers combing through tom’s tussled locks. “now that we’ve done the big three...” you preface. “androids, aliens, and wizards?” tom jokes, you breathing out a laugh. you’d thought he had a soft spot for sam and bucky. your suspicions were correct.

“cute, but no. your sun sign, moon sign, and rising sign,” you explain to him. “sure, sure. what about them?” tom toys with the hem of your shirt while you think. a mischievous glint in your eyes, you suddenly sit up. “since you know yours, and i know mine, how about we test our compatibility?”

tom is well aware of what that means, and he isn’t so sure he’d like to do it. he’s someone who believes in cliches like soulmates and fate, so he’ll take your results seriously. after the lessons on astrology you gave him, especially.

his heart will always hold a special place for you and you only. nothing will change that. but, what if the universe says you can’t be together? where do you go from there?

“um,” tom presses his lips into an uncertain line. you’re already getting your laptop. “i mean, do we want to know? what if we’re not...” you come back over to him with both eyebrows furrowed. “compatible?” “yeah” he hesitates before answering, which tells you he’s nervous.

“it’s just for fun, tommy,” you assure him and press a quick kiss to his lips. “besides, if anyone could defy the odds, it would be us.” tom perks up a bit, sitting up next to you. “you think we’re that strong, huh?” “absolutely. do you?” you’re already sure what he’s going to say. he pulls you into his lap, kissing at your hair and letting it linger. “one hundred percent. i’ll do it.”

you put your laptop in your own lap with a grin. tom’s arms hold you by your middle. “ok, here we go,” you mutter, searching for a good compatibility calculator. it doesn’t take long to find one. “remember, this all a bunch of theories. our love goes beyond what a stupid website tells us, okay?” you remind him, his arms tightening around you.

“okay. i love you,” tom speaks into your hair. “you’re so good at saying exactly what i need to hear. how do you do it?” “i love you too, and that’s a secret i’ll never tell.” you take one of his hands and bring it to your lips. tom’s leg bounces while you plug your three signs and his into the calculator. before hitting the calculate option, you look at him over your shoulder.

“ready?” your finger hovers over the cursor. you know how much these things mean to him, so you want to be positive that he is. “can we do it together?” tom asks shyly, which is highly uncharacteristic of him. “sure, baby. on the count of three.” you wait for him to place his hand over yours. he grips it tight, then you start to count. “one... two... three.”

the two of you click calculate at the same time, your results taking a few seconds to load. “love, i’m so nervous. i can’t look.” tom dips his head down so yours is blocking his view. you lightheartedly roll your eyes. “it’s fine, tom. i’m sure we’ll-“ the screen changes to display your compatibility rating, you cutting yourself off. he slowly creeps out from behind you.

“oh, god. are they in? what’s it say?” tom grabs onto your waist, feeling vibrations from you giggling. you shake your head at the website. “it’s really good... almost a perfect match. told you we’re meant to be.” he joins in your laughter, an endless amount of kisses going down the side of your head. “now, it’s written in the stars. we’re untouchable!”

he’s flipping you over so he lays above you, lips colliding messily with yours for the millionth time today. you don’t mind, though. you could do this a million more. “a power couple,” you continue for him between another peck of his lips. “always have been,” tom corrects and shuts you up again with his mouth on yours.

your hand reaches up for him, but doesn’t make it as the passionate kiss he’s giving you takes your breath away. he locks your fingers together instead, whispering one last thing.

“always will be.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland au #tom holland request #tom holland oneshot #tom holland blurb #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut

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cutegirlmayra · 3 years ago

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WHAT DO YOU EXPECT FROM SONAMY PRIME

I have an idea.

Prompt:

The weird Amy variant suddenly landed with amazing power and precision onto the beam, looking around and twitching her ears for a sign of him.

As his chest rose up and down, he quieted it and tightened his parted lips back together, trying to not breathe through his teeth but his nose again.

'What is with this Amy?' he questioned, peeking out slightly but trying to have his deep blue blend in with the natural color of the darkened jungle. 'She's like an amazon! Well, she kinda always was.' he peered up to the corner of his eye, smiling weakly as a bead of his sweat awkwardly manifested his fears and nerves on the side of his face.

He heard a snap of a twig and tensed, slowly bringing his eyes back to where the other Amy had stood.

She was on her knees, spear down,... crying.

He jolted and moved from his spot almost instantly at such a change in her characteristics. She had seemed so strong before, on the verge of hunting him down... but now, she vulnerably wept into her hands that covered her face, sitting down on the branch.

The image before him was so powerful that he didn't hesitate to speed up, still under the branch, and ask her--"Amy? What's wrong?"

His heart moved his feet before his mind could catch up with him, but she looked down to gasp and pick up her spear, firing it at him with amazing accuracy.

"W-woah! Yiiikes!" He winced and sped back, "Phew!" he saw it stick the ground, and let out a sigh of relief, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to kill me!"

"Kill you?" She raised an eyebrow, "Nonsense!" she swiped her hand out and got up, wiping away the last of the tears she had momentarily shed. She held herself high above him, her chin rising up as her eyes took on a tough appearance, "I'm trying to catch you."

He paused a moment, his eyes squinting... but nope, not a lick of sense. "Huh?" He tilted his head, his face making a goofy expression.

She nodded, "Y-you're..." she blushed and looked away a moment, turning her back to him and fiddling with her fingers, turning... almost... very cute. "You're the most handsomeness boy Hedgehog I've ever seen... and if I don't catch you by sundown, I'll... I'll be banished from my tribe." she looked down, sorrowfully.

"... Oh, is that all?" In a great wave of letting the tension roll off his shoulders, Sonic finally relaxed and chuckled lightly to himself, letting the exhaustion of the day go as he wiped his brow and smiled up to her, walking with a more carefree manner now. He raised his hand up to continue to address her and talk with her, "May I just ask... why do you need to 'capture' a dude?" He stopped and put his hands to his hips, now directly beneath her. "Isn't it enough to ask a guy kindly to come with you?"

She blinked her eyes rapidly, her face turning red at his suggestion. "Y-you... a man would do that?" she asked, genuinely seeming to be unaware of this.

Sonic just chuckled again, shaking his head as he leaned a bit into the hearty, but quiet laughter. "Sure. Wouldn't want you banished, now would we?"

Sonic watched as Amy independently jumped down to retrieve her spear. She pounded it lightly to the ground just once, and returned his comforting smile with her own, "Then it is settled. Come with me, Hedgehog boy."

"Oh, one more thing," Sonic held up a finger and squinted an eye, "Most dudes like to be asked their names, first." He wiggled his infamous pointer finger about, leaning towards her in a light, teasing scold.

She rose in color on her cheeks again, and nodding instantly, "O-oh! What is your name, Hedgehog boy?"

"Sonic!" he happily greeted, "Sonic The Hedgehog!" he swished up a thumbs up and winked to her, "And yours..? I'd like to guess! Hmm..." he put his thumb up to his chin... then pretended to look over her face as he walked up to her.

Amy leaned back, her eyes fluttering at his closeness which only gave him a further kick and confidence boost.

'So... she is like the other Amys.' he concluded, 'If I play my cards right, she might just lead me to the Chaos Emerald that was thrown into this dimension... along with that device the Robotnik wanna-bes are after...' he leaned back and nodded, "Amy." He then smiled, "You're definitely an Amy!"

She was amazed, "You're a shaman!" she exclaimed.

"Well..." Sonic looked away, "I'm just good at guessing stuff... liiiikkee... how a mysterious glowing rock crashed into your village?" he got close to her face again and held up his pointer finger, grinning from ear to ear in pride and putting his hands behind his back to puff out his chest when she squealed in delight.

She clapped her hands, "The Union Star that was foretold would be my wedding day! You truly are a magical man!"

As she grew excited, Sonic suddenly formed a jagged line with his once--straight and esteemed posture. "Y-your what now?"

As he bent out of place, she grabbed his raised arm and began to drag him off, "It is this way! Come, Sonic my Hedgehog."

"W-wai-wait a second there! I-I'm... I'm not really lookin' for this kinda commitment! Wha-hey-hold on! Ammmyyy!!!" Very reminiscent of their typical dynamic, this Amy hoisted him off to her village, where Sonic was about to be wrangled into a marriage with her by her people due to some prophesy, before the Eggheads attacked and were trying to steal the Chaos Emerald, which the people took as their prophesized 'Union Stone' that came from the Fate Stars.

The Warrior Women fought proudly and were able to drive off the Eggheads, even with their simple, makeshift weapons against the robots, as Sonic successfully got the Chaos Emerald and was able to Chaos Control them through a dimensional portal, needing to go himself.

"W-wait!" Amy charged out with both hands out through the crowd, looking distraught as she stopped in place when she realized he had turned to her, not trying to escape... just yet.

She put her hands cutely into a bundle by her face, her big, emerald green eyes batting in a pleading way as she angled it down to look even sweeter. "You... You're not going to marry me... are you?"

He bent his eyebrows and smiled kindly to her, "'Fraid not." he confirmed, then held up the Emerald. "This isn't a Union Stone... It's from my world, and I have to make sure those mean ol'eggs don't cause other dimensions any more problems then they already are! I'm really sorry." He then scratched the back of his head, turning somewhat humble. "I'm afraid that prophesy of yours has still yet to be fulfilled..."

She nodded, lowering her hands in front of herself and down, "I know... I knew from the moment I saw you... That you had some greater purpose out there than being with me..." she looked to the side of herself, forlorn. "Even though I could tell you were looking for something... I knew it couldn't possibly be me."

Sonic's smile... dropped.

He also lowered his hand as though wanting to reach for her... saddened for her disappointment and filled with empathy at the image of his friend's lonely heart.

"But even still-!" she shook her head, forcing a smile and having shining eyes towards him, "I would protect you from those evil, hard-shelled spirits with my life, Sonic my Hedgehog! I have to protect my tribe first... but if we should ever meet again, I would be honored to be a warrior fighting by your side once more!"

Sonic's eyes searched hers in admiration and gratitude.

"I know you would... Amy." he looked down at the Chaos Emerald... thinking... He closed his eyes, and started to walk towards her.

She was surprised at first, about to step back before Sonic pulled her into hug.

Her eyes trembled in sparkling wonder...

"Goodbye, Amy... Thank you, I appreciate it... Every moment of it... But..." He stepped back, but kept a hand on her shoulder, "I'll see ya again." he gave his charming, comforting smile. He knew his Amy was waiting for him back in his world, where he could simply say, 'Long time no see!' and reconnect with her once more.

This Amy's face lit up as she opened her mouth into a wide grin. "Yeah!" she nodded, little tears at the corners of her eyes.

Though she was exceptionally strong as a fighting amazon in this world... she was still Amy Rose, and he was thankful for that, but also impressed at how her heart could persevere through any dimension and in every alternative world.

"Never change, Amy." He gave her a final farewell, waving to the other warrior women of the village as he put a leg through the portal and it sucked him in, "W-woahhhh!!!" he spun into the spiral before it closed, as Amy wiped her tears and looked to the stars, her hands bundled in prayer.

"Blessed Union Star... may our paths meet again,... and may I become that Hedgehog's bride."

A star... twinkled in the sky.

#sonamy #sonamy prime #prime!sonamy #sonic prime #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #cutegirlmayra #sonamy prompt #sonamy prime prompt #I think this is my first Prime prompt?

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clan-sayeed-fic · 4 years ago

Text

Business (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapter: 1

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios)

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they’re the property of Pixelberry Studios as well)

Warnings: a little bit of angst (I think)

Rating: Mature

Author’s note: I’m not a native English speaker, I’m sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

I know it took me some time. But believe me, this chapter started with 1300 words, then I extended it to 2000, and then I rewrote it a few times, so we ended up here 😂

~ 1700 words

----------------------

Chapter 2

A bolt of lightning cut across the starry sky.

Centuries ago, somewhere in the middle of the forest, loud screams came from the old tavern. The gleam of the night peeked inside the building, seducing men to go outside to face the threat which came upon them. To fight what made them go through the days in constant fear, depriving them of their peaceful life.

Every single day, sunset meant for humans the beginning of the nightmare. As long as the sun was high in the sky, brightening the landscape around, locals remained safe. As if the danger was waiting in the shadows, afraid to step into the light, not having enough courage to show itself.

That day, a mutual threat brought them, leaders of all clans, together in the tavern.

The group of animals attacking their villages under cover of the night forced them to take the final steps. Their last hope was buried in the best hunters of this land. But even they ended up being captured by the darkness, disappearing without a sign.

The pattern repeated itself as bloodsucking creatures left death behind.

Suddenly, lightning hit the ground once again, causing the earth to tremble under its power. At the same time, doors were opened by the wind, revealing the shape of the man barely standing on his legs.

Leaders run toward the only survivor without double thinking, bringing him closer to the light.

"They... are not..." the man managed to mutter, "are not... animals."

Another thunder brightened the inside of the tavern. Silence fell between men as unsureness sneaked into their minds.

"Who are they then?" one of the leaders dared to ask.

The hunter lifted his head slowly at those words, putting enough effort to open his swollen eyes. His face appeared in the faint light of the torch for the first time, revealing scars on his face.

And two dots on the side of his neck with the path of blood flowing out of them.

"Humans," his voice broke when red liquid showed itself in the corner of his mouth. "Only one..."

The man's body moved in convulsions as the coughing took over him entirely. He was spitting out blood in agony until his eyes went blank, and heart stopped beating.

"How can one man lead to such bloodshed?" one of the leaders spoke as the rest lifted the corpse. "It's witchcraft."

Their eyes moved on the body of the dead hunter lying on the table with hands resting on his chest. Words kept echoing in their heads as the realization hit them one by one, making those powerful men feel the fear of the enemy they were not prepared for.

Because what chance did they have in fighting something so inhuman?

Was there even a weapon out there that would be strong enough to restore peace?

And what if coming into possession of it meant sacrificing humanity on their own...

***

The air was thick with anticipation.

Half of the security crew was gathered around the conference table, the rest of them waited outside right by the doors.

It was perfectly quiet inside the room. No one even dared to breathe louder, afraid to distract Paine's daughter. Kamilah and Adrian just watched the girl, trying to examine her reactions while she was studying the documents.

But Amy's face was unreadable for most of the time. She focused all her attention on the words before her, reading paragraphs of the contract carefully. Only from time to time, she had a habit of looking through the window to collect her thoughts or let her eyes rest.

But even then, her expression was impossible to read.

She almost got to the end of the files when her left eyebrow raised slightly for a second as she read the most significant part of the deal. Kamilah squinted her eyes at this, wondering what was going on in this pretty head.

Finally, Amy put the documents aside and looked directly at both CEOs as if she was waiting for them to say something. As if they were supposed to react in a certain way before her final decision.

But nothing happened.

Such a shame, Amy thought, sighing lightly.

Adrian stopped the awkward silence, grunting meaningfully. He stood up, buttoning his suit, just to offer the girl a pen to sign the contract.

But at that exact same moment, Amy got up out of the chair. She turned around without a single word, letting her blonde hair fly in the air with the movement.

"We're done here," she spoke to security guards with the audacity.

The girl intended to put her glasses on when Adrian spoke aloud, confused.

"I don't understand..." his voice showed pure astonishment. "Was there a problem?"

Amy turned around with surprise written on her face as if she just reminded herself about their presence.

The familiar feeling of victory filled her chest.

"Well, if we are talking about those documents, then yes, it was," she kept his gaze confidently.

"It can't be, we've already discussed the details with your parents," Adrian stepped forward, lifting the papers. "This meeting was supposed to be just a formality."

"And it would've been," Amy spoke, lifting her chin a little bit more, "if the details that you discussed together were included in the official version of this contract."

Adrian went through the papers in a hurry, searching for any mistakes. He put all his hopes in this deal, he wasn't ready to give up on it so quickly.

While he was searching through the files, Amy looked behind him, meeting with Kamilah's chestnut eyes. To her surprise, the woman kept her silence this entire time, standing there with the corners of her mouth slightly curled up.

"I'm sure you are aware of what trust means to this family," Amy's eyes challenging, voice sharp, "Mrs. Sayeed."

Adrian followed her gaze, quickly recognizing the look on his best friend's face. Realizing that the woman must have had this planned all along.

"I am absolutely aware of that," Kamilah wasn't smiling anymore. "Mr. and Mrs. Paine need to understand what kind of situation they've put us in," she knew what exactly needed to be said to get to this girl. "We were discussing details with them, not their young daughter."

The tone of her voice provoked Amy immediately, causing her stubbornness to show off.

"Unfortunately, now I'm the one who you need to convince, not them," she said, raising her left eyebrow, challenging.

"I'm sure we can reach an agreement," Adrian tried to ease the tension in the room, standing between two women.

Amy kept her arms crossed as a way to exaggerate her impatience. At that moment, she indeed looked like the stereotypical only child, raised in a wealthy family.

"Of course, we can always come back to the original version of the contract," Kamilah said with a smirk, making her way to the desk where she had everything prepared.

And by doing so, she caused the family pride to burn inside Amy.

She might have been young, but smart enough to know what was happening there. Kamilah was making Paines look bad in this situation, showing the dominance of her own company.

"That won't be necessary," the girl's mind worked fast. "I've already lost more than enough time for this nonsense," she was done playing nice. "Under those circumstances, the last version will not cover the damage to this meeting. I would like to discuss the details again."

Kamilah opened her eyes wide for a second, impressed with this attitude. The harsh tone of Amy's voice made her feel both: bitter and fascinated.

"Fair enough," she held back a smile, getting what she wanted from the start. "We can arrange a personal meeting tomorrow if there are no contraindications," she sensed Adrian's mood changing.

"Amelia, we..." a bodyguard stepped forward, speaking in a muted voice.

"Nothing stands in the way," Amy interrupted, sending him a meaningful look.

Both CEOs shared a quick glance, wondering what that was about. But the girl's tone didn't leave much space for discussion.

"It's decided then," Kamilah nodded to herself, keeping in mind this situation.

She looked at the girl's eyes once again, finding herself drawn to this intense shade of green.

The color annoyed her memory as the long-forgotten past was asking for her attention.

***

"Why, Kamilah... why?"

They came back to her office right after the meeting.

"I don't see the reason to panic," Kamilah's voice remained calm as she got behind the desk, already occupied with work.

"You almost ruined our chance for this collaboration," Adrian couldn't believe that it was the same woman standing in front of him.

The same one who would kill for the deal, push all the buttons to get what she wanted. And at that moment, they both wanted to get this contract signed with Paine's surname.

Or at least, he thought so.

"I needed to make sure what we are walking into," she leaned back in the chair, relaxed. "Besides, I will meet this girl, and everything will be exactly the same."

"Oh, you will?" Adrian's eyebrows lifted, he didn't like the sound of those words. "I thought that we were going to meet her," that's when it hit him. "No, no, Kamilah, leave her out of it."

"Don't be such a baby," the woman frowned at him, slowly losing her patience.

Adrian looked at her closely, noticing something that he assumed faded away a long time ago. This characteristical glow on her skin. Corners of her lips barely curled up as she was holding back a grin. And what was betraying her the most:

eyes of the hunter.

"I know that look on your face," Adrian cheered up, forgetting about the contract. "I haven't seen it for a while, but I would recognize it anywhere."

"Stop this nonsense," Kamilah said with a smile, turning toward the window, away from his gaze.

What Adrian said was true.

She was in the mood to play.

And Amy seemed to be the perfect match for this game.

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Next chapter: 3

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tag list: @cheeto-choices @kamilah-is-queen @ariaminsinclair @helpconfusedpersonhere @ayushixo @nydeiri

#choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #bloodbound fic #bloodbound kamilah #bloodbound fanfiction #bb kamilah #kamilah choices #bloodbound mc #bb mc

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smashing-teacups · 5 years ago

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Missing J/C goodbye scene, 5x02

A/N: Hi y’all! Just scribbled down a quick goodbye scene between Jamie and Claire in 5x02, as I feel like we were missing that in this episode, hm? Their reunion is coming up in 5x03 and Sam has mentioned it’s one of his favorite scenes in the entire season, so I’m not touching that one! I’ll let the masters do their thing. But on the front end, here’s a wee thing I wrote this evening. All mistakes are my own; it’s quick and simple, didn’t even run it by a beta (or title it for that matter, haha)

____________

Jamie rose before dawn, early enough that the rustle of quilts and sag of the mattress didn’t fully wake me. I was still heavy-limbed and lethargic after spending the night entwined with him, unhurried and savoring, burning the feeling of one another into flesh and bone to take with us when we parted. Rolling into the warm depression his body had left behind, I breathed in the scent of him (of us) and drifted off again with a low hum of satisfaction.

He was purposefully quiet as he moved about the room, dressing in the pale grey light of pre-dawn. It wasn’t until I heard the repetitive clink of the metal buckles along the length of his boots that I stirred in earnest, lifting my head with a snuffling breath.

“You’re up early.” I squinted across the room at him in confusion, knowing full well that he didn’t plan to leave until after his men had filled their bellies with a warm breakfast.

“Aye,” Jamie agreed huskily, his morning voice an octave deeper than usual. “Thought I should see to my chores ‘fore I go.” He finished the row of buckles along his left boot and switched to the right while I stretched languidly, arching my back and toes into the cool sheets before coiling back into my ball of warmth.

“You didn’t have to do that. I would have taken care of it.”

My husband glanced up at me with a throaty Scottish noise and a shrug. “Ye’ll already have to take up my slack while I’m gone. Dinna want to burden ye wi’ today’s work as well.” He finished the last of his buckles and crossed the room to me in a few strides, bending to capture my lips in a soft kiss. He smoothed a thumb over my cheekbone and down my chin, his eyes half-closed and trained on my mouth. “Go back to sleep, a nighean,” he murmured, and kissed me again.

Admittedly, I was tempted. It was still dark, the air beyond my cozy huddle of blankets discouragingly cold, and as we’d spent very little of the night actually sleeping, I was still plenty tired. Left to my own devices, I might have hunkered down and dozed blissfully until noon. The only thing preventing it was the recognition of how precious little time remained for us to be together before Jamie left for God-knows-how-long on Tryon’s bloody crusade. Savoring every moment afforded to us had been a hard-earned lesson, carved painstakingly into the shells of our hearts over the course of twenty long years.

Pushing the quilts back, I shook my head and swung my legs over the side of the bed, a prickle of gooseflesh rippling over my bare skin at the exposure to the stark morning air. “No,” I insisted, fumbling in the darkness to find the shift that had been hastily discarded on the floor the night before. “I’ll come with you.”

He waited for me to dress (I was quick about it, eager to bundle myself against the bitter chill), then wrapped an arm comfortably around my waist as we strolled out into the quiet, unfinished house.

“Some tea first?” I asked softly as we walked by the kitchen.

Jamie’s steps faltered for a moment as he considered it, but he shook his head. “Nah, I’ll bide for now. The animals’ll be restless for their breakfast, and I want to turn that new colt out for a bit ‘fore I go.”

I nodded, laying my head in the crook of his shoulder as we walked out onto the porch and down the path toward the barn. He was right, of course; heedless of our nocturnal activities and the ungodly hour of the morning, I could already hear the stamping of hooves and blowing snorts from the horses. Clarence began to bray excitedly when he heard us approaching, and that set off the chickens and the goats and the white sow. By the time Jamie lifted the bolt on the barn door, the whole bloody lot of them were in a cacophonous uproar.

The two of us exchanged knowing, exasperated smiles, then wordlessly set about our individual tasks: I filled grain and water buckets, Jamie climbed up in the loft to begin to heave down bales of hay. Once all of the animals were munching contentedly, I set to work milking the goats while my husband groomed the horses. With my cheek resting against a warm, bristly black belly, I listened to Jamie murmuring to one of the mares in Gaelic, smiling at the phrases I did know (“be good for the mistress, aye?” and “there’ll be apples in it for ye” and “bite her and I’ll tan yer bonny hide”) and closing my eyes to simply listen to the lilting cadence of his voice through the parts I didn't understand.

The comfort of it, the utter tranquility of the morning dawning golden and crisp and beautiful around us as we worked, was enough to fill my heart to the point of aching. After all our years of strife and suffering, sacrifice and separation, I finally had everything — we had everything — we’d ever wanted. We delighted in the simple pleasures of the farm, the land, the community, our family, each other. I had a booming medical practice where I finally felt useful, and Jamie had blossomed effortlessly into the role of laird that he had been born to fill.

But of course, fate simply couldn’t bloody well let us alone.

There was always another fucking war. Another battle, another conflict, another reason to tear Jamie from my arms and into the line of fire. It seemed these moments of tranquility would forever be fleeting for us.

Perhaps that was the price we were meant to pay for challenging history, bending time itself to accommodate our love.

Peace, after all, had never been part of the bargain Jamie and I had struck.

So be it. I’d said it once before, and meant it: I would have him any way I could.

Setting the milk bucket aside, I went to Jamie in silence and wrapped my arms around him from behind, bowing my forehead into the valley between his shoulder blades. He paused at once with the brush at the horse’s withers, turning his head slightly toward me in silent inquiry.

“Keep working,” I murmured against his back.

I just need to hold you.

I didn’t need to say it for him to understand. He did as I bid him, and resumed his characteristic quick darting flicks as he brushed the horse. I closed my eyes, moving with him, memorizing the way his scarred skin stretched beneath my cheek, the way the powerful muscles of his shoulders rippled as he worked.

After a moment, he abandoned his task altogether, letting the brush drop softly into the hay at our feet as he turned to face me and wrap me in his arms.

I need to hold ye too, Sassenach.

I didn’t cry, and neither did he. But we ached together in silence, swaying gently from side to side, my face tucked into his neck and his into my hair.

In the distance, I could hear the stirrings from the other cottages; tenants waking to the new day and starting chores of their own. Within a few minutes, I knew we’d hear the telltale squealing of our grandson in the cottage just down the path.

The world around us was waking.

Which meant my time with Jamie was quickly running out.

We’d say goodbye here, alone. Later there would be people everywhere; we’d exchange nods, smiles, pleasantries, a quick and chaste kiss before an audience.

But here, I could say what I truly meant, and so could he.

“If you do find him,” I whispered against his skin, “make it quick, Jamie.” I pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye, and swallowed the lump in my throat. “For both your sakes.”

His eyes burned red for a moment, and he sniffled hard, dropping his forehead against mine. “Christ, don’t let it come to that,” he prayed, his voice barely a whisper.

“You told him to be hard to find,” I reminded him, squeezing his shoulders. “And the mountains are vast. You’ll make your excuses. Hm? Lead the wild goose chase as long as you can.” He nodded against me, and exhaled shakily. “But if…” I swallowed again. “If you do find him...”

“It’ll have to be me,” he agreed hoarsely. “I’ll no’ let him hang.”

“I know,” I whispered, and smoothed my hands over his stubbled cheeks. My husband stared down at me, earnest and terrified, and I drew him in with a soft, desperate sound, kissing him with everything in me. I stood on tiptoe and pulled him close, wishing I was big enough to wrap around him, make him feel protected, the way he did when I needed his comfort. The best I could offer was tenderness, understanding; shared affection and history with the man he was forced to hunt, defying every last one of his instincts.

I loved Murtagh too. Jamie knew that. I don’t know if it helped him, but it was what I had to offer.

When at last our kiss softened into grazing lips, I nuzzled the tip of my nose against his and murmured against him, “Ride slowly, Jamie. Wander. Take the long road around the mountain. Buy whatever time you can.” I drew back to look at him, to make sure he saw the honest permission in my eyes. “We’ll be alright here. I promise.”

“Aye,” he breathed, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Ye run a tight ship, a nighean. I dinna worry about the Ridge wi’ you at the helm.”

“Good,” I said, and gave him one more firm kiss on the lips.

Jamie held fast though, tightening his grip on my waist. “I do worry about you, Claire. Ye get so deep into tendin’ yer patients that ye forget to tend yerself. Be mindful, aye? Dinna do anything reckless wi’ yer own safety while I’m no’ here to grouse at ye for it.”

I smiled, swaying my hips with his and humming faintly in amusement. “I promise to imagine your most disapproving face every time I get a bright idea, hm? We’ll see if it makes any more difference than when you’re here to give it in person.”

He fixed me with his best exasperated glare, and my smile softened. “I’ll be careful if you will, soldier,” I offered quietly, rubbing my palms over his shoulder caps.

Jamie made a decidedly Scottish grunt; caution and self-preservation were not either of our strong suits. Still, he nodded as he leaned in to capture my lips one last time.

“For your sake, then, my Sassenach,” he vowed, “I will.”

#Outlander fanfic #smashing-teacups #jamie x claire #missing scene #5x02

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mrsdobrik · 4 years ago

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My Name Jeff - Chapter 5

“Please tell me again, why am I letting you do this?” David sighed, trying to stay still. The light was pouring in from the window in Y/n’s dorm room, filtered only by the thin white curtain, and illuminating David’s features as, across the room, Y/n sat with her legs crossed and a big sketch book, tracing the way his jawline curved at his chin.

“Well, Jeff, we are doing this because you want to get into my pants and you know the only way you’ll be able to do that is if I pass this class. Therefore, you are letting me sketch you so we can both be happy.” She smiled behind the sketchbook, her pencil not leaving the paper.

“Fine” David squinted his eyes “But, I want to see your paintings once we are done”

Y/n thought about it for a long moment, no one had ever seen her work, not even her closest friends. It just always felt too personal. She sighed and said “Fine, we’ve got a deal. Now stop moving.”

As she observed him he took the time to closely observe her. Her hair was up in a lopsided bun that had strands of hair and pencils poking out. He smiled internally at the way she stuck her tongue out as she focused on the drawing. His attention then shifted to her lips and the way she would bite on them when she was unsure about how a certain detail was turning out. Finally his eyes dropped to her legs and he admired how they seemed to curve softly. At that point she said “I’m drawing you, what’s your excuse?” as she noticed his obvious stare. He could see her cheeks were flushed slightly as he focused back on her face.

“I’m sorry.” He chuckled, guiltily and a bit embarrassed of being caught. “Go on, draw me like one of your french girls” He quoted, making them both laugh. “Can we answer some questions while we are at it?”

“Sure, go for it” She giggled.

“We were on question 18. What is your most terrible memory?”

David watched as her eyes darkened and the pencil almost fell off her hand. Her lip quivered slightly, she closed her eyes and sighed before replying. “One… one of the times my sister was hospitalized, it must have been like the third or fourth time. It was pretty ruthless. We didn’t know if she was going to make it… my parents cried for days and days straight. My youngest sister was too young… she had no idea what was going on. Definitely not a time I like reliving.”

The room went quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for your entire family.” David whispered.

“It was. What’s yours?” She said wanting to change the subject. “Probably the same as my most treasured one. Flying here on my own.” He replied before asking. “If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?”

“I don’t think so. I would like to keep doing what I love, which is making art, learning and reading a lot. I would also not want to be a burden on my family and I would want to help with their debt as much as possible so I wouldn’t quit working. If anything I would try to spend more time with my loved ones and maybe try to show my work at a gallery or something. What about you?”

“Hmm… I don’t know. I think I would want to just spend time with my family, my hometown friends. I really don’t know…. Question 20: What does friendship mean to you?”

“Friendship means everything with the right people and nothing with the wrong people. I can have great chemistry with someone but if they’ll bail on me when I need them the most then they aren’t real friends. I think valuable friendships are rare and that people use the word too lightly. What about you?”

“I would be nowhere without my friends. I think friendships are a huge part of my life and I’ve had the same friends since high school and I know we would all be there for each other if something were to happen.”

“That is so cool that you have such great friends! I wish I was still friends with people from high school, sometimes life just stands in the way of that” She shrugged. “What’s next?”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“Hmmm… let’s maybe find that one out later” She said with a wink, lightly biting on her lower lip.

“Sure” David’s voice broke, making Y/n giggle. He cleared his throat before asking “Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.”

“So… Jeff, I like how funny you are, I like how attentive you are, I like your hands… a lot actually, I like your smile and above all I love how honest and true you are as we answer this questions”

David felt that familiar pang of guilt stinging at the base of his stomach, even more noticeable than ever before. He looked down embarrassed.

“Oh, come on don’t act humble now. I know you have a huge ego and you are breaking your pose” Y/n chuckled.

“Sorry” David said, going back to his pose. “Wait, that is not it.” Y/n crawled across the room to where David was sitting. Her soft hands quickly adjusted the way his head was tilted. Then she focused on making his hair look like she wanted it for the portrait. As she finished she looked into his eyes for a moment, making sure every detail was right. “Perfect” She let out in a breath before leaning in and softly kissing his lips. “Now don’t move”

She crawled back to her sketchbook and said “You still owe me five compliments.” as she got back to work.

“Right,” David agreed with a smile. “Y/n, I like your lips and the million ways they seem to change with every expression your face makes, I like your eyes, I like how thoughtful and caring you are, I like how straight forward you are and I like how every hour I spend with you seems to last a minute and yet I feel like I could stay here with you for days just talking and looking at you.” The whole scene seemed very intimate, Y/n’s eyes left the sketch before her and focused on his, trying to read whether he was being honest, she felt her lips curve up into a small smile and the heat rising up to her cheeks.

They were silent like that for a moment until David cleared her throat and said “Right, next question, How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?”

Y/n looked down and kept sketching. “The short version, yes we are very close and no, I feel like my childhood was average. Lots of good things and some bad things. You?”

“I feel like I could be closer with my family and… I feel like my childhood was great but not necessarily happier than most.” He shrugged “How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?”

“Pretty solid, she is like my best friend” Y/n smiled. “And you?”

“I love her. I should probably tell her that more, but she is great.

“I’m nearly done. One more question?”

“Make three true “we” statements each. For instance, “We are both in this room feeling …””

“Okay. We… are both kind, we both like romcoms and we both like fast food way too much” Y/n giggled.

“We are both feeling comfortable with each other” Y/n nodded. “We both like spending time together.” She smiled and nodded again. “And we are both falling for each other” David said, making it sound more like a question. Y/n smiled for a long moment and then nodded, a little sparkle lighting up her eye. “It’s.. it’s done” She said a moment later. David crawled to her side and looked at the picture. He loved the way she had captured the light coming from the window and his expression as he smiled carelessly. It looked like a really good candid photograph. She was definitely very talented.

“This is amazing! I want to see the others” He exclaimed excitedly. Y/n sighed, bracing herself and showed David a bunch of sketch books and full on paintings she had stashed under the bed.

David looked through them, at the way she captured lightning, at how the portraits showed emotion and thought at how it seemed like every single brush stroke had a purpose. “These are all amazing, like gallery levels of amazing. You should be proud of this, you should be showing them somewhere.”

Y/n smiled and looked down “You have to say that because you care about my feelings. I’m not ready for the kind of criticism that comes with that kind of exposure. They feel too personal”

“I get that. Putting your stuff out there can feel… scary. And people aren’t always nice… but you are really talented. You shouldn’t feel nervous about what others will say. Art is subjective, isn’t it? The right people will know to appreciate it.”

Y/n smiled up at him. “Thank you, Jeff. For everything. I have a hard time opening up to people and I with you it just feels… easy”

David leaned down to kiss her but as he did he could taste the poisonous guilt on her lips.

Later that night as she swooned about him to her sisters he tossed and turned knowing that the truth might set him free but it would also make him lose the girl he was falling for.

#david dobrik #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik x reader #david dobrik x you #david dobrik x y/n

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centuryofdean · 5 years ago

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Of Food and Comfort - Part 8

Author Note:: Very smutty. Smut. Not well written, but smut. I have no idea where this came from O.O

Be warned. Only 18+ NSFW Readers.

Author Disclaimer:: Marvel and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. Instead I claim the maybe not so great plot, writing and characteristics of the reader insert character. I am not a die hard Marvel fan, I haven’t read all the comics, but have watched the movies. I may get some things wrong, so please don’t hate me. I also have been incorporating Old Norse as terms of endearment.

Summary:: You worked for Tony Stark as a…mechanic of sorts. Anything around the Avengers compound that needed a technicians touch, you handled. With working and living there, you had grown to be friendly with the super heroes. Of course you had grown to have feelings for one of them. The muscled Thunder God to be exact.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+. Smut. NSFW

Pairing:: Thor x Reader

Over the next five days there was little time you got to spend with Thor. Mostly he was off speaking with his father while you were left to either roam the palace or settle into the library to read. When he returned, he walked you around Asgard, introduced you to his friends and took you to eat at some of the restaurants. There was one time you took a lovely nap in the garden just before dinner while he was gone once. It was a little frustrating to not have been spending more time with Thor, but you tried not to let it both you. He was very important here, you knew this.

Towards the end of the fifth day, you were once again in the library, looking through books you could not read waiting for Thor to find you. When he strolled through, you were a little bleary eyed from squinting at the foreign letters in the dim lighting. Once more he was wearing the simplistic Asgardian clothing you had found entirely attractive on him. You smiled up at him, stretching as you rose up to stand. Thor glanced at the book you had set on the armchair of the seat and back at you.

Without another word, he stepped around you and easily slid into the large plush love seat you had occupied. His arm came around your middle and pulled you down onto his lap and then pulled the book out with the other. While you adjusted your dress to cover your curled legs properly, Thor’s deep voice started reading aloud.

It was a book about the realms that Asgard looked over. The way he spoke, read aloud and ran his hand up and down your arm was devastatingly smoothing. Almost enough to make you want to close your eyes and fall asleep. Instead you were gazing at him openly. How was it that you were lucky enough to have been graced with a man—a God—like Thor? Ultimately kind, a fierce warrior and a gentle partner. It was the little things like this that warmed your heart.

Not to mention how incredibly attractive he was. He had let his beard grow out a little more than the normal scruff he adorned. It only seemed to be all the more sexy with his deep voice. It grew perfectly around his lips, down his cheeks and along his jaw to trail his neck. It was slightly darker than his hair, which had also grown.

“Drotting,” he chuckled amused, “are you even paying attention to the story?”

“Sorry,” you murmured, “I got a little distracted.”

His hand closed the book and set it on the arm again, “Distracted? How so? What else could have captured your attention?”

Your fingers already rose, trailing through his beard and up over his jaw to his hair. “Just by you is all,” you smiled, eyes trailing over his cheeks and to his hair, finally landing on his eyes. “How lucky I am that you…that you—me, us.” Suddenly it was really had to phrase your words, to try to describe what you were feeling.

“T’is I who is the lucky one,” he rumbled deeply. A deep flush took over your face again as he leaned in. You would never tire of the feeling of his lips against yours. Granted it had only been a handful of days that you have been graced with them, but damn, they were devious.

With every press of your lips, you worked your way up so that you were straddling his thigh and kneeling slightly above him. Your fingers were finally combing through his hair, using it to pull him closer to your face. Thor’s large hands grasped your hips, gently guiding them down so you were sitting on his thigh. The kiss grew, to something a little frantic that left you entirely breathless. Breaking away for breath, you gasped when his beard scraped a path after his lips down your throat.

Instinctively, your hips rolled to ease the ache that had been steady building. Thor hummed in approval, one hand pushing and pulling your hips again across his thigh while the other gathered up your hair and fisted it behind your head.

Your eyes opened, immediately looking down to see your dress bunched up across the tops of your thighs, knees resting just on the edge of the couch. Another soft tug at your hair ripped another quiet moan from your throat. How was it having your hair yanked felt good? Thor’s knee bounced once, causing you to yelp in the sudden change in gravity and bring both hands down to rest on his thigh in front of you while your feet found purchase on the ground.

“Go ahead,” his voice was ragged.

Confusion filtered your head as you furrowed your brows. Thor’s hand came to your hip again, pressing you down and across his leg rhythmically. The friction against your thinly clothed center caused pleasure to erupt up and into your stomach.

“You want me to—to r-ride your thigh,” you asked as your eyes widened.

His blue irises finally looked up to meet your gaze at this. “Yes,” he groaned softly, “I want to watch you.”

A little shy, you gripped his thigh with your two hands while you worked your hips back and forth. Small jolts of ecstasy raced through you with each change of friction on your clit. A quick glance up to see his reaction was a little too much for you. Dark steel blue eyes were watching half lidded, zeroed in on your mostly covered center as it moved along the wide expanse of his leg. His hot hand had gripped your dress hem and bunched it up at your waist so he could see everything. It was only when his gaze moved up to look at your face, that you got more embarrassed.

The hand that was pulling your hair gently untangled from your locks. You assumed he was going to grab you by both hips to help, but instead it started at your shoulder and lowered down to cover your breast. Immediately goose bumps erupted over your chest and arms, a tingle starting in your breast that caused your nipple to harden in anticipation. He squeezed softly. The pleasure the came from the soft fondle was delicious. You cried out as your hips moved to seek more pleasure.

“Just like that,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re so beautiful schat.”

Distracted by your need, you leaned forward slightly, using one hand to guide one of his own through the top of the dress and onto your breast directly. The moment his warm flesh grazed even the top of your breast you whimpered and continued to grind yourself on him. Finally, his lips met your throat again, adding to all the wonderful sensations.

A cry of sorts left your clenched teeth as you lost inhibitions. It felt more amazing than anything you ever experienced—even better than getting licked between your legs. Maybe it was the combination of the semi-public location, it being Thor and the fact his voice was a turn on in itself—you weren’t sure. All you knew is that you needed to have the explosive pleasure, or you would cry real tears.

One of your hands cupped the back of his neck while the other helped you balance on his thigh. You were close, chasing your orgasm. Your back was starting to ache from all the bending and movement you were trying to do, but you needed it push it to the background for just a little bit longer. Your hips started to jerk a little more frantically when Thor’s lips receded from your neck and a sharp sting was met on the skin of your neck. It wasn’t painful by any means, but hurt just enough to throw you crashing headfirst into waves of pleasure. The nipping of his teeth only lasted long enough to help you reach your climax before retreating.

A small scream left your lips as you rode through it, eyes just barely open to see Thor watching intently. His top teeth were clenching his bottom lip as he flared his nose. The hand still on your breast moved slightly, a finger brushing against the nipple to heighten and lengthen the ecstasy for a few more seconds.

Soon the familiar small aftershocks jittered through your body and nerves. Panting for breath, you brought both arms up to throw around his neck so you could let him carry your whole weight. The pleasure outweighed the pain, but now that your release finished its course you were left with the ache in your back.

Thor’s hand slipped out of your dress, causing you to gasp softly at the lost of his heat. Both of his hands came to cup your back and rub up and down as you sighed in content. “That was the most glorious thing I have seen yet,” he murmured into your hair. Soon you were leaning up to press your lips against his in a quick kiss.

Still trying to even your breaths to control your heart, you slipped off his lap and onto the floor on your knees.

“Y/N—” his eyes widened when he said your name, but you only smiled and reached for the front of his pants.

“Let me,” you whispered, fingers sliding into the band of his pants and tugging softly. He grunted lowly while he helped you slip his pants down his thighs partially.

You could have never been prepared for what you saw.

Unlike the first night in Asgard when he stripped down to sleep in bed with you, Thor was not wearing any sort of boxers or briefs underneath his pants. This graced you with the sight of his complete nudity—below the waist at least.

Honestly throughout your whole sexually active life, you only had fooled around with or had sex with a handful of men. Handful, as in four or five men total. Seeing them naked for the first time was momentous, but with Thor it was almost legendary.

The moment he cleared his pants, his member bobbed up hard and slightly red, only to land lazily against the lower part of his abdomen. Dark blonde curls started scarcely somewhere under his shirt—you were guessing his belly button—and only thickened in size and mass as they descended down to the base of his length and onto his sac.

Unsurprisingly he was large, he was a God after all. Longer than average from your experience but you were concerned with the thickness alone. Yes, you knew it was totally possible for him to fit when it you were ready for sex, but it might be slightly painful in the process.

You were more than willing to endure that little pain when the time came.

Slowly, your fingers rose to trace just the top of his thigh, pressing his shirt up more so you could see his stomach. In a quick jerk of movement, his hand grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up and to the side to reveal his toned abs. A soft squeak left you at the action, and you watched amazed as a small bead of precum trickled up onto the head of his cock.

With measured movements, you trailed your hand up to grasp his base softly while the other worked its thumb into his inner thigh. His hips twitched up. You moaned as you marveled at the softness of his sensitive skin.

A quick glance up at his face told you everything you needed to know. His brows were furrowed together, a sheen line of sweat coating his forehead. Teeth clenched tight and lips pulled back he grunted when you pulled up once. Taking your time, you started to trickle your lips from the top of his thigh, slowly to meet your hand that was working up and down. Your nose ran up the side of his member and let out a shaky breath as your tongue sneaked out to lap softly at the side.

Thor’s hips jerked quickly at the same time one of his hands snaked up into your hair.

After a deep breath, you licked the underside of him from base to tip and sampling his taste. It was salty and musky, though overall not terrible. There was a hint of a citrus to him, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. Swallowing with another deep breath, you finally brought him into your mouth. The deep whimpering moan that he let out the second he hit the back of your throat caused you to moan yourself. Not wanting to end up gagging and ruining the moment, you brought your hand up to stroke him the rest of the way.

You started slow, bobbing down and up while hollowing your cheeks for a better sensation. When you weren’t actively sucking, your tongue traced up, down and around to feel and taste everything you could. The more Thor moaned, twitched and pulled slightly on your hair; you grew more heated yourself. Soon, while you moved up and down his length with your lips, your own hips started to slowly thrust in tune with your mouth.

Resisting the urge to slip your free hand down your dress, you raised it to run your fingers over his heated stomach. Every time you came up and swirled your tongue around the head, Thor’s abdominal muscles constricted up and together, never truly relaxing.

Knowing your jaw was going to cramp soon due to the slight ache you felt, you increased your efforts. Both of your hands grasped him to move in tandem with your mouth that sucked harder and faster as you bobbed. This experience was slowly becoming one of your favorites. You never thought it would be this fun to go down on a man before, just because it seemed like a chore or a returned favor. though now, it was exhilarating to be the one to make him feel good, apparently really good if his moaning was anything to go by.

Thor was quite vocal, moaning and whispering—in Old Norse? Asgardian? Did Asgard have its own language?—his hips sputtering as you increased your efforts. Not once did his hand force your head or did he try to take control. At one point his gyrating hips became a little too ecstatic and hit the back of your throat, causing you to moan in surprise and gag as you continued to follow through with your bobbing.

The hand in your hair grew tight as it urged you up, suddenly in control, and then even higher and off of him. Immediately you gasped for breath, panting while you watched amazed as he gathered his shirt over his cock and gently rub into it. His eyes were closed, sweat had beaded up on his forehead while his teeth clenched, and nose flared with each soft grunt and motion of his hips.

You only got to watch this for a moment before his eyes flashed open, hand in your hair urging you up to meet him when he crashed your lips to his briefly. “That was marvelous schat,” his whispered deep and husky. “Thank you.”

Both of you sat, cuddled together on the smaller couch while your breaths calmed, kissing softly. Thor didn’t move to pull up his pants, but only to usher you into his lap more while he started to run his fingers through your hair. “I apologize if I was too rough with you,” he murmured pressing his lips to the side of your neck. With a hum of refusal, you leaned into his embrace more.

“No you weren’t, just surprised at…at the end,” you responded.

“I understand that not all women enjoy giving such pleasures, much less enjoy receiving the end-result of them.”

“Next time just let me—”

His arms tightened around you, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck where he bit softly here and there. “Next time,” he chuckled inquiringly. “I am a lucky man indeed if you grace me with more.”

Soon he patted your thigh gently, urging you to rise. “We should refresh ourselves and change,” he said softly. “We are to eat with Father tonight.”

Suddenly a little nervous, you started to try and tame your hair while he guided you out of the library. You only have been around Odin for the little of ten minutes the first morning you were here. He wanted you gone the moment he found out you had arrived to Asgard, but after knowing you were able to wield Thor’s hammer, he was more accepting of your presence.

That didn’t mean he actually liked you being there. For some reason you felt as if he looked down on humans, as if they were lesser than him. Technically he wouldn’t be wrong. Asgardians were superior beings to humans from what you saw. They looked the same, but were faster, stronger and well outlived the human race.

It was one dinner so far though. Maybe he would hold his tongue and be polite. Perhaps you could use this dinner as an opportunity to have him warm up to you. Thor was old enough to not need his father’s blessing on who he wanted to date, so you weren’t looking for that.

No, you just wanted the rest of your time in Asgard to be enjoyable. You would like to be able to come back again later on so that you could see Thor more often instead of going months in-between seeing him while waiting on Earth.

Even though you didn’t want to admit it to yourself already, you loved this incredibly sweet and strong man—this God. You only hoped he would feel the same down the road.

Previous Chapter << Part 7: Sweet Berries

Next Chapter >> Part 9: Popcorn

@jumpingmanatee @thorfanficwriter @lancsnerd @captianamericasbeard

@jennie22feona

#thor x reader #thor x you #thor fanfic #thor fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #reader insert #thor odinson

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theory-talestelltalesss · 5 years ago

Text

Chez

Pairing: Y/N, Taehyung, Jungkook

Characters: Rest of BTS

Genre: fluff, angst, vague smut

Summary:

An old artist visits his collection of paintings at a world-renowned museum in Paris. He becomes nostalgic of the past after hearing news about the very woman who served as inspiration in his golden years. She was starving for any type of solace, even brittle and fleeting when she met him-- a penniless tour guide who was in love and only had eyes for Paris itself. Pieces of memories, both awaited to be remembered and desired to be forgotten, come flooding in his mind as he viewed every brushstroke he made in his career. Throughout the years, the museum received letters and donations, but one in particular always stirred his mind.

Chez /ʃeɪ; shā; shey/:

Origin French

Preposition

Chez means to be at a particular location (chez moi --- at my place or home), or refers to a particular state of mind of someone or a collection of people (chez les français — among the French). Yet still, it could be used to describe an artist’s body of work (chez Van Gogh).

“Life was the most beautiful then.” An old man sadly smiled at a painting, branches of his hazel eyes dilated his pupils, absorbing every wavelength of light that refracted through his lenses. The painting was placed in between two others that were brighter and more saturated with glazing golden frames, but none of those things distracted the old man’s gaze, only having sight for the one before him as if it was the only one in the world.

Nostalgic sighs relieved themselves from the old man’s lungs when memories piled up one after another in his mind. His tired wrinkled eyes traced the swipes of what once brushed the canvas before him, spraying a hazy memory that gradually formed a more opaque image in his mind as he viewed every corner, every shape, and every color. The museum was almost empty now. Closing time was near but the dim room, only having spotlights for the paintings, isolated itself from the time that continued on in the outside world.

Triggered by a memory, the old man took out his icy hands from the warmth of his pockets to observe the lines of his palms that forged themselves over the years, remembering someone in the past telling him that one line connecting and separating from the rest were different fates of his life. ‘Could one of those fates been a happier one?’ His mind mulled over as another sigh released itself from his chest.

The old man’s eyes refocused in between his fingers and unto his snow-covered boots, realizing that winter came once again. Winter had a special place in his heart, but like all things, it never lasted. Spring would come knocking, and then summer, fall, and winter again. When the next season comes, the next month, the next week, the next day, they all will be nothing but a memory too, and further away from where he wanted to be.

He eventually shuffled over and sat at a bench nearby, reminding himself that his legs didn’t work the way they used to, justifying a part of himself that wished he wasn’t in the present. But he was distracted from reliving the past once more when a voice invaded his ears louder and louder. A tour guide marched in with a crowd of tourists at his tail, eventually coming to a stop near his vicinity.

“Whoa! It’s The Madeleine!” The tourists started taking pictures of the painting, hovering their cameras over the crowd to get the perfect frame.

“Now some of you may know this painting over here. This is made by the famous artist you might know as Cof. He worked under this pseudonym for all his career and never revealed his real name.” The tour guide spoke eloquently but swiftly about the piece, not a single pause in his pace even when he confidently switched from English to Spanish and back again.

“Was he the one who disappeared in the news many years ago?” A voice in the crowd shouted out anonymously.

“Yes, yes, that was him! His pieces are priced around 10 to 20 million dollars partly because of his story that influenced his amazing art. But this painting, The Madeleine, went up in value the most and is priced around 60 million dollars.” The tour guide brushed to the side, giving the painting ample space for the crowd to take pictures.

“Who’s The Madeleine?” A little girl in the crowd asked with her hand up, eyes large as a doe, grappling her mother’s skirt before she carried her in her arms.

“That’s the question, mon ange. Cof kept her identity a secret. One of the reasons why it’s the most talked about and most valuable painting in his career.”

“So why is it so valuable?” Another voice in the crowd asked.

“You will see that it embodies everything French and it’s now almost a symbol of France. If Italy has Mona Lisa and the Netherlands has the Girl With The Pearl Earring, then France now has The Madeleine. If you think about it, the identity of all these girls in these famous paintings are all mysterious to the public.” The tourists looked at each other curiously, pondering over the words the tour guide just stated, some eventually agreeing with him in the end.

“Now here, you can see her half clothed between the bed sheets looking out the window of Paris at night, embracing the romantic reputation of the city. Over to her right at the side table are some madeleines, and of course is a desert authentic to France.” The tour guide pointed to parts of the picture he talked about, and the old man’s eyes followed through a small crevice within the crowd.

“And as you can see here on the bed railing is a white towel with a red border, which was actually a mass-produced kitchen towel at that time. Every place had them, restaurants, hotels, wherever! But more interestingly, this painting itself was painted on one of those towels.” Ooh’s and ahh’s buttered themselves in the air that made the lips of the old man shyly curve at their corners as he looked back at the lines of his palms.

“Now because of this, some say that the artist captured a raw and on-the-spot moment of the woman in the picture when the only thing he had nearby was a towel. Scholars say this wasn’t arranged or posed for the purpose of painting this scene, but it was a genuine moment between the artist and the French woman in the picture.” His finger pointed up at the ceiling as he finished his last sentence, priding himself on the masterpiece that hung on the wall in front of his clients.

“Everything you said was correct except for something in that last part.” The old man croaked from the back that had the guide as well as the tourists jolt their heads in his direction. Slowly from his seat, he rose carefully with a grunt, bending his body away from any feeling of pain or discomfort from his joints.

“Actually, that woman is American.” He nodded at the painting, softly smiling at it as he put his hands back in his pockets when he finally found a stable stance. “...Very very dear.”

“E-excuse me, Sir. Where did you get that information?” The tour guide moved to the left to get a good view of the old man between several heads as he gripped a binder full of information about the museum paintings, restraining himself from flipping it before getting an answer.

“Oh sorry about that.” He chuckled to the ground, his melancholy eyes sparkled in thought. “This museum...might not remember me anymore.” When the old man swiped his fingers across his eyebrow, scratching his palm with the stubble of his jaw and feeling the loose skin that hung from his cheeks, he recalled that his face surely changed from the last time he visited. “Do you remember me, Namjoon hyung?”

The tour guide stuttered after a few moments of squinting and widening his eyes at the old man and only then did he slowly utter a name he had not used in years. “T-T-Taehyung-ah?” The tour guide was finally able to utter, almost forgetting he had clients before him.

“Bonjour.” Speaking French for the first time, Namjoon confirmed Taehyung’s identity, and only then did his brain click to recognize his voice that preserved its velvet and deep characteristic he didn’t realize he so longed to hear. As Namjoon observed more of his appearance, Taehyung took off his hat to put himself more into light, showing his familiar yet different features. The lines on his face introduced the life of a protagonist that carved difficult paths throughout the years, and are extended by the white and silver strands of hair that Namjoon remembered were once brilliant blonde like the sun. A roadmap etched on every inch of his skin, telling the world he lived, loved, lost, suffered, and grieved.

“You’ve grown into an old man.” Namjoon’s voice quivered as he looked at Taehyung, taking in the effect of the years that had been done to his body, but couldn’t even begin to imagine what the years did to his heart.

“So did you.” Taehyung chuckled as he shrugged his shoulders, holding his eye contact with Namjoon as if time stood still under their feet.

“I didn’t expect you to visit again.”

“I’m sure nobody did but...something reminded me of it again, friend.” Friend. A word Namjoon heard from several people plenty of times, but when it came out from Taehyung’s lips, it came with a ton of weights dumped on his chest.

“What reminded you of it?”

“Her.” A pause in their conversation held before Namjoon could ask another question he wanted to ask Taehyung all these years.

“Does this mean this painting is...?”

“Yes, that’s her. In fact...all of my works here were inspired by her.” He looked around the room, scanning each one briefly as the spirits of the past flashed before his eyes. “Every part, every stroke, every line, was a manifestation of her.”

For him, she was the only one who didn’t change with the seasons. She was the only constant thought in his mind.

Clearing his throat, Namjoon kept his eyes on Taehyung’s before he hesitantly spoke to the crowd. “Everybody, you’re the luckiest group of people in the world right now...and you might get your answer, mon ange,” said Namjoon, giving a glance to the little girl sucking on her fingers.

“I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Kim Taehyung. My past coworker and one of my good ol’ friends. But more importantly…” Namjoon awaited for a signal from Taehyung which he provided with a light nod. “...the artist who painted every piece in this room. You all know him by his other name -- Cof.”

Quiet gasps all around the room chorused in unison as the crowd stared at Taehyung in awe before taking out their cameras to take a shot of the famous painter. Images of uncomfortable poses froze themselves on their screens, and with a single click, his senescence was delivered to the world that would soon contrast images of his youth he so desired to steal back-- the youth the world remembered last.

“My Madeleine.” Taehyung smiled as he rested his chin on the crook of your neck while he wrapped his arms around your abdomen, startling you from your morning daze in the middle of counting down how many days you had left at the edge of the bed. You snuggled your head to the side, grazing your cheek against his soft golden hair as you admired the pink morning skies and the roofs of Paris through your window. “What do you want to do today, Mad?” His voice course and raspy from his sleep, clearing it up slightly, had you feeling the vibration on your shoulder. “Mmm…wanna get some madeleines and coffee down the street and we’ll go from there?” You mumbled against his head as you pecked his unruly hair, never faltering to smell like coffee even when he hasn’t had any. “How’s that sound, Cof?” Mad and Cof, short for Madeleine and Coffee, the accustomed nicknames you gave to each other from both your obsessions towards your favorite food and drink. “Sounds amazing.” He closed his eyes and planted several kisses up your shoulders, letting the blanket fall from his bare shoulders as he did it. The ice cold metal of his necklace tingled your skin as it sandwiched between the warmth of both your bodies. As the final kiss touched the back of your ear, you felt a smile grow before he mumbled his words against you. “Next year when you come back, I bet you’ll still smell like madeleines.” A satisfying shiver traveled down your spine from the rustic voice he still had yet to fix. Two years it had been. Two years of fooling around with a man who you could only see once a year, every winter to be precise. Sometimes you thought it was the most irresponsible and destructive thing you could do to yourself. Other times you thought it was the best thing in the world. You got yourself drunk on the feeling of spending time with someone in the most romantic city in the world, and a boy who was the perfect one to do it with. He had the inexpressible ability to erase any and every problem you ever had in the back of your mind as soon as he took you in his hold. No matter how you saw it, you couldn’t resist his unexplainable allure and your irrational desire for him once your foot plants on Parisian soil. “What makes you think I’ll come back next year?” You half-jokingly teased as you grazed your hands against his arm wrapped around you, closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips and losing sight of the dust falling in and out of the dim rays of the sunrise you were observing a moment ago. “You always come back…” He whispered as he switched to peck at your other shoulder, not caring if he pressed one on your strap. “Besides, your family would be pretty sad if you don’t come.” You slowly opened your eyes and realized that he was right. Every year, your family in Paris expected you to come spend winter break with them. What they didn’t know was that you also found another reason to come back every year – him. Not only would your aunts, uncles, and cousins be sad if you didn’t come, but most of all, your father would miss you terribly. Growing up without him most of your life was one of his biggest regrets he could never make right. Ever since your parents’ divorce, you craved your father’s presence at moments when you thought you needed him the most and only at winter break could you see him to make up for lost time. You could never imagine skipping a year to see him again. “That’s true, but what if…” You reached back and touched the nape of his neck, locks of his hair caught in between your fingers, pulling him closer to you to let a kiss land on his red and flushed nose from the winter cold that seeped through a centimeter crack from the window. “…I meet someone else along the way?” You couldn’t help but test him even if he distracted you from your sullen mood. It was on your mind for a couple of days, per usual every time it was almost time to go home. He chuckled at your challenge, not showing a faze of worry, but instead, planted his lips on yours, pushing your hair back to your ears and gently cupping your jaw with both his hands. “If that happens, Mad…” He gave your shoulder a light push until you slowly felt your back against the bedsheets, keeping his lips on yours. “I don’t think I would still want to stop seeing you…so…” He breathed in between the part of your empty but still famished lips as his hands found their way within the warmth of yours, tangling some of your hair between them. After he pulled back to look at you, you opened your eyelids again to finally catch the sight of his beautiful face since he woke up. His half-lidded eyes slightly hid behind strands of his tousled hair and his scowled lips traced wet from your kisses as they whispered with a pant of sweet breath that fanned your face. “Come back.”

“One coffee please, uh- Americano.” You heard the person in front of you order as you waited in line for your turn. The earthy smell of warm coffee lingered in the air, intermittently interrupted by the gush of icy wind that rushed in from time to time from the entrance of the shop as people covered in snow walked in.

“Uh yes, three Madeleine’s please, the ones covered in chocolate, and umm…a cup of black tea please?” You told the cashier in front of you wearing an apron struck with powdered sugar. “Is that for here or to go, madam?” “To go.” The cashier yelled to some employees at the back to try to overlap the sea of conversations in the coffee shop to take your order. “Heh, you never change.” Hoseok chuckled behind you as he gleamed a heart-shaped smile when you looked back at him. Hoseok was your closest cousin in your family in Paris. He lived in the city his whole life and never even had the desire to venture out. He was closest to your age and naturally, became the closest cousin you had. “At this point, you should be worried if I don’t order madeleines.” You cheekily replied before giving the cashier your card. “Cous, I wouldn’t be surprised if you get diabetes someday.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he looked up at the menu, still trying to decide what he wanted to get. “If that ever happens, I’ll say it was worth it.” A tight lipped smile formed on your face, refusing to back down from any of his playful attacks. “If that ever happens, I will say I told you so.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head before the cashier prompted the next customer in line. “Ah ye- can I have one croissant and a caramel iced coffee please?” “Huh? Iced coffee? We’re in the middle of the winter, cous!” You tried to continue the light banter, even though you already knew for a fact that Hoseok never liked his coffee warm. “If I get a cold, I’ll still say it was worth it.” He mockingly copied you, manipulating his words into yucky syllables before he gave the cashier his card. You leaned against the counter after both of you moved to the side where customers picked up their coffee, ready to check your names on the cups as soon as they come out.

“Sooo…cous…how are you?” Hoseok dragged out his words with a cumbersome tone, almost cracking in the middle of the question that uncovered his prudent approach.

“I’ve been with you the past few days, cous.” You pretended not to know what he meant and wished for him to play along, but truthfully, you wanted him to press on, internally begging for him to get you out of denying your own feelings. It had been a few days since your arrival in the city and you knew this conversation was going to happen even before you stepped foot on the plane. Apparently, this is the time Hoseok picked, finally having time alone with you. “No, Cous. How are you?” He warily continued, keeping a still watch on any subtle changes in your expression. This is one of those times you wished Hoseok didn’t have the trait to be eerily observant. “Mmm…” You hummed to find the right words but more so to keep a lump in your throat at ease before proceeding to your next words. “I’ve been better, cous…hope it gets easier sooner than later.” “Welllll, good thing it’s the holidays, you got time to spend it with family and get out of there for a while.” “Yeah it helps a bit, being away from home…” You scratched a particular part of the counter just to evade Hoseok’s eyes, keeping him from seeing how heartbroken you were even though you already knew nothing escaped him. “Jin hyung, Adora, and I, of course, should be able to cheer you up.” He flipped his fingers at your chin, gleaming his contagious smile in hopes that you will catch it too, but to no avail. Instead, you formed a strong pout that told him his strategy to cheer you up was not working. So he faced the counter with you before he looked to the ground as he spoke seriously, clearly catching the fact that you didn’t want to meet his eyes.

“Remember when I didn’t want to let go of Jimin? If I was successful, I never would’ve met the love of my life, Yoongi.” He chuckled to his feet with hands in his favorite flamboyant bomber jacket which you jokingly repeated as an embodiment of his personality. “Just think…this may simply be one bump away to finding the one. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.” Your lip lifted at one side, unsuccessfully forming a smile that told Hoseok that you didn’t believe in the words he just said. He caressed your head as you both waited for your orders in silence, hoping that they would come soon before you want to bury yourself in your toxic turmoil, hurling into a hurricane of self-blaming and what-ifs. No matter what Hoseok said to keep you optimistic, you couldn’t help but think…what if Jungkook was the one?

The only words that came out of your mouth to reply to Hoseok, but mostly to appease yourself, was, “Maybe cous…hopefully the next one will be the one.” You burned one particular coffee cup with your eyes after the barista slid it across the counter, flashing back at a time Jungkook told you purposely under the stars that you were the one for him. He took your hand in his as he traced over a line on your palm and said that because of that one line, your lives were always connected to each other, from your past lives to the next. You thought it was overly stupid but also overly sweet as he had a thing or two for being “star-crossed” with you, priding himself that no matter the circumstance, you both always made everything work. You now realized that your dumb “star-crossed lovers” agenda had come into full completion; star-crossed lovers were never meant to be together.

The barista called out a name and only then did the wholesome yell pull you to full consciousness, reading the name ‘Taehyung’ written hastily with a sharpie on the cup you were staring at for the past minute. “One Americano for Taehyung!” Hoseok turned his head in a snap at the direction of the man walking over to get his coffee. He did an adorable nudge of his head as he looked at the man walking by in a hazel wool coat and newsboy hat.

“Taehyung-ah?” The man turned back his head and paused midway of tearing up a sweetener, spilling some outside the rim. He instantly landed his eyes on your cousin before his thick brows perked up from behind his glasses and his ears moved back in glee. “Hoseok hyung?!” A smile instantly formed on his face-- the type of smile that reflected years of friendship and memories, whether good or bad, that undeniably formed an unforgettable cherished bond. “What up buddy? Ehehe-hey!” Hoseok took a step towards him before his hand met Taehyung’s, along with a press of both his cheeks against each of his to greet in the French way– La bise.

“How’ve you been, Tae?” An obvious delight in his tone as he looked at the tall man he had not seen in a long time. “Good good, just getting some coffee before starting the day.” He lifted his coffee up along with a charming lift of his eyebrows, spilling some from its rim before turning back to grab its lid to finally cover it. “Ah! Still a coffee addict I see. Still an Americano?” Hoseok never stopped being observant of people’s behaviors, no matter how big or small. One day he would surprise you by recalling something particular about you, no matter how insignificant, thinking that he wasn’t paying attention. Anyone who had ever met Hoseok learned quickly that he was the type of person who talked to you as if you were the only person who mattered at that moment. He was unfairly gifted with a natural intuition to read people, something that you wanted for yourself. He could tell you what you would do next before you could even pick a fortune cookie. Hence, this is one of the reasons why you loved him dearly and why he was always the perfect older brother you never had. “Haha, as always.” Taehyung giggled as he grabbed a napkin and cleaned up the drops from the spill that smeared the sharpie of his name. “Oh- this is my cousin. She’s visiting for the winter holidays.” “How do you do?” You greeted before you instinctively pulled out your hand for a handshake, only to realize that Taehyung leaned in to kiss your cheek and stopped halfway because of your gesture. He then gave your hand a firm handshake as he looked at you with sparkling eyes, infatuated with the fact that they were as hazel as his coat.

“Good! You’re American?” Taehyung guessed as Hoseok played along with a rollicking ‘how’d-you-know?’ and a back throw of his head, teasing the fact that you busted your cover. “She visits every year for the holidays though, so she should know more about French manners than most. Not to mention her dad is from here.” Hoseok added as he rustled the top of your head which looked like a dog getting a good rub after returning a stick. “And we still gotta work on that accent, La Petite.” La Petite, meaning ‘little one’ because that was what you were to Hoseok -- the little sister he never had. “It’s pretty good compared to the tourists I toured around who spoke some french.” “Oh yeah! Taehyung-ah is a tour guide here. He knows everything about the city.” Hoseok smiled coyly at you as he languidly bent his body, preparing for his next sentence. “He’s in love with the city of love.” He ended with a laugh to brush off the mushy thing he just said but the only thing Taehyung did was look at his coffee cup with a shy simper.

“Well, I would offer to show you around but it seems like you got a local here to do that for you.” Grasping Hoseok by the shoulder as he looked at the side of his face in adoration. “Hoseok? Show me around?” You laughed when Hoseok suggestively looked at you, knowing well what you’re going to say next. “The only places he toured me around are the clubs and dance floors.” “Well I can’t say I’m surprised. Hoseok was quite the dancer if I remember correctly back in our college days.” He said before taking a quick sip of his coffee. “Hey! Don’t tell me you didn’t have a good time last night! Even after that-” “Of course I did!” You sliced Hoseok’s words to spare your first impression for Taehyung, not wanting him to know that you chugged a pint of Mojito last night and danced around like a stiff fool. “Here, give me a call if you want.” Taehyung said after he searched for his business card in his coat pocket and you clutched it between your fingers, partially covering the cursive font with your thumb. “You can tag along and you can bring Hoseok hyung.” He gave him a nudge at the arm as Hoseok rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Speaking of tours, I have to go to work! Very nice to meet you.” He nodded at your direction with another raise of his coffee. “And Hoseok hyung, let’s catch up sometime you dance bug!” A smile formed on Hoseok’s face after he felt Taehyung’s playful pat on his back before they said their goodbyes.

After getting your orders, you and Hoseok sat by the window with a view of the glacial streets benevolently decorated with snow. The warm fresh smell of madeleines met your nostrils after opening its container that had your feet wagging from the stool from excitement. Hoseok couldn’t help but make a confused smile at your reaction in between a sip of his iced coffee.

“I don’t know why I even try if this is what makes you happy right away.” He said across from you as he pointed at your pastry, still holding the coffee in between his fingers by the lid. “I should just get a bunch of these and put it under your nose every time I see that pout you gave me a while ago.” He moved his pointed finger to flick it under your nose that made you throw your head back playfully to reject his teasing gesture.

“You know maybe that could work.” You retorted before you took your first bite, eyes popping when the first distinct level of sweetness touched your tongue. “Nothing like it back home.”

“Speaking of home, you should go on that tour some time before you leave.”

“Hobi, you know I was just being polite. I’d be miserable if I go on that tour.” You retaliated as you felt that familiar stinging sensation in your chest every time you were reminded of him.

“Why not? Just because you-know-who is gone doesn’t mean you should not see the city.” He replied as he took a bite of his croissant, deflating its form as his teeth sunk down, releasing a heap of warmth from its core. “I think it would be good for you, you know, get some closure.”

Closure. One thing you wanted but at the same time didn’t want. Did you really want to close this chapter of your life? Is it even possible to close it all the way? After all, what choice did you have? All these years of being with who you thought was the one, it was this year when Jungkook was supposed to come with you to meet your family in Paris; to finally meet your father. France was the one place you saved under your belt until you finally knew that you truly loved him. A tour was a great way to explore the city of love, symbolically solidifying your love for him and his for you, but all was wasted when that love proved to be what you thought was everything else but feeble.

“I feel like that would just be a masochistic move don’t you think?” You leaned back in your seat, suspicious of Hoseok’s casual suggestion.

“Mmm...I prefer the term ‘cathartic.’” He cutely propped his head to the side, a gesture incongruent with the words he just said. Hoseok’s typical sunshine behavior sometimes did not match the context of the situation. “Plus, Taehyungie I heard was pretty good.” “How do you know?” The change in temperature on your palm satisfied you when you wrapped your hands around your paper cup before blowing on it to take a comfortable sip.

“Taehyungie was a good friend of mine. He knows the streets inside and out because he used to live out there.”

“Out there?”

“Yeah, he used to live in the streets. He was homeless.”

A backflush of your tea poured unto your cup along with an extension of your neck to prevent a spill as soon as you heard your cousin. “Homeless?! How did he manage to live?!” You exclaimed with a muffled voice caused by the napkin you placed in front of your lips to wipe your carelessness away.

“If you have two eyes, there’s no doubt you’d think Taehyung is good-looking.” He stopped midway of buttering his croissant before he shot up his eyes at you and your rosy cheeks became totally exposed to his view. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your flushed state and continued. “No one’s really resisted his charms before and I guess he used that to his advantage. He used to model for street artists in Paris in exchange for food and a place to stay. He doesn’t have any family.”

“That’s actually...pretty sad...but also pretty impressive.” Recalling back to when you met Taehyung, you never would’ve known this was the kind of past he had to deal with. He seemed totally...normal.

“Yeah, well, he had to do what he had to do and he didn’t have anything, Cous. Penniless.” He swiped his knife to emphasize his words as the melted butter clinged to its edges. “If there’s anyone who I would say would be a good tour guide, it would be him. Plus, I know you were just holding off on seeing these places because you wanted to see them with you-know-who, so why should that butthead stop you this time?”

Delightfully getting lost and weaving through the nooks and crannies of the city, having Jungkook’s fingers intertwined with yours as your laughters dissolved within each other’s was one of the things you both anticipated for a very long time. Every year that you had the urge to go sightseeing with Jin and Adora, you would let Hoseok instead take you to the bars and clubs. Being in love while being in the city of love were both yours and Jungkook’s dream, a milestone coupled with meeting your dad. However, now that he’s gone, there’s no point in holding yourself anymore, which finally led you to say, ‘I’ll go.’

“Yeah?” Hoseok paused in the middle of a bite to make sure he heard you right.

“No person should rob me of seeing this wonderful place, right?”

“Right. Good.” Hoseok patted a napkin on his lips studded with crumbs, keeping a still eye on you like he always did when conversations felt sensitive. “Would you be okay by yourself? Want me to come with?”

“No, I want to do this by myself.” The surface of your tea rippled in ripples when a whiff escaped between your voice that answered your cousin. You then take a huge sip to down your decision.

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littlesliceofmarvel · 5 years ago

Text

We Don’t Collaborate

Request/Synopsis: Steve has a romantic interest in the reader, and when the team is forces to work with the Fantastic Four, he becomes extremely jealous and over-protective when Johnny Storm keeps flirting with the her. She gets slightly irritated and kisses Johnny just to annoy Steve, but all ends well.

Warnings: Swearing

Pairings: Steve x Reader

A/N: This is my longest one yet! Ok, so I haven’t seen Fantastic Four in like, ten years, so forgive me if there are characteristic mistakes! This is also based off of the Fantastic Four movies with CEvans, Jessica Alba and those guys, not the remake from a couple of years ago. As always, gif isn’t mine, enjoy! x

THIRD PERSON POV

The minute that Fury had told the team that they were going to join the Fantastic Four for the next mission, tension had gone out of the roof throughout the Avengers HQ. They were used to working with familiar faces, the trust being put into each other and only each other. It was always a big deal when a new member joined the team, but now, having to join with another team was enough to get the entire room in a frustrated groan, Fury rolling his eyes at their reaction.

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve said, voicing everyone thoughts.

Natasha couldn’t help the sarcastic laughter that bubbled through her, “Fury, you really think we’d get along with another team of ‘heroes,” she added in quotations, “Some of us don’t even get along with each other.”

Fury rolled his eye, facing the annoyed Avengers, “I’m not asking you guys to get along, I’m asking you guys to have each other’s backs, that’s it.”

Tony and Y/N shared an eye roll amongst each other, knowing damn well that their combined sass and smarts would be enough to get the Four to reject them without so much as a second glance.

“With Stark on board, you really think we’re going to rub off the right way?” Y/N asked with a playful tone to her voice, making Steve chuckle slightly as Tony let out a fake gasp of mock hurt, swatting her in the shoulder lightly.

“I was more worried about you, Agent Y/L/N,” Fury shot her a look, making her squint, tilting her head to the side, challenging what he meant.

“Oh, please,” Y/N smirked, “I’m a joy to work with.”

Fury dismissed her comment and turned back to the team, “They arrive at the compound tonight, please make them feel welcome.”

And with that, he left the room, leaving the Avengers to sulk. Y/N was the only one who didn’t totally see this as a bad thing, as she loved challenges, and with the feeling that the Avengers and the Fab Four weren’t going to get along, she knew it was definitely going to something.

She sat there, a small smile on her face and fire in her eyes as the team argued, and Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She absolutely captivated him and every time he was around her, something sparked within him to want to make her smile, laugh, and make sure she was always safe. She was witty, sarcastic, brilliant, and one of the strongest people he knew. Everyone on the team absolutely adored her, but she caught Steve’s eye from the moment she walked into his life all those years ago.

“Well, while you guys sulk about this collaboration,” Y/N stood up off her chair, cutting off Tony who was ranting about why they didn’t need more hands on board, snapping Steve out of his thoughts, “I’m gonna go eat.”

Natasha stood up as well, “That sounds like a great idea, I’m with you.” Y/N walked over to Natasha and linked their arms together, walking out of the conference room, Steve’s eyes lingering on the girl who captured his heart as she smiled at Natasha.

“Steve, are you on board?” Tony asked, leaning his arms on the table as he faced the blond soldier, knowing he was paying absolutely no attention to a word he was saying.

Steve’s eyes widened as he looked around the room, “Sorry, what?” Bucky scoffed, holding back a laugh at how obvious Steve was being.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Of course you weren’t listening,” he pointed to the door Y/N had just walked out of, “Ask her out already so you can actually be focused instead of looking like a ten year old boy who has a crush on a girl way out of his league.”

Steve felt his cheeks heat up as he rolled his eyes at Tony’s comment, “Shut up, Stark.”

The rest of the day went without hiccup. Y/N, Natasha, Wanda and Clint trained in the gym, working themselves to a near breaking point before ordering pizza and watching TV, like true superheroes. Steve, Tony and Fury clarified the mission that they were going on before joining the others in the living room.

“So, quick briefing,” Fury stated, causing Clint to pause the Golden Girls episode that had stolen their attention, “Wanda, Clint, Scott, Reed Richards and The Thing will go with Tony. Bucky, Y/N, Natasha, Sue Storm, and Johnny Storm will be with Steve. Sam, Bruce, T’Challa, Parker and Rhodey won’t be joining this mission.”

Y/N raised her hand like she was in a classroom and Fury let out a sigh before he pointed at her, causing her to cock her head to the side.

“Yeah, so like, what are their powers? What can they do?”

Fury pulled out a hologram and showed them the information they wanted to know, “Reed Richards can stretch himself like an elastic, Sue Storm can become invisible, The Thing is kind of like their hulk, and Johnny Storm is known as the Human Torch, self explanatory.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at the information, “Human Torch, huh? He must be hot,” she joked and Natasha groaned from beside her, throwing her head back at her friend’s bad joke, “Oh, c’mon, it was funny.”

Steve couldn’t help the slight sting of jealousy pour through his body at her calling someone else hot, but he pushed it back when he snapped it into his head that it was a joke.

Fury told them that the Fab Four were showing up at around 8, and that a meeting was to be placed as soon as they showed up. Everyone took note of it and Y/N nagged Clint to play the episode once again. Steve found himself with nothing much else to do so he sat next to her, and she felt herself almost lean into him, but had to force her body against it. There was a certain feeling of comfort that he brought to her, and she hated to admit it, knowing damn well he was he weakness.

“So, we’re on the same team,” Y/N smirked up at Steve and he smiled, nodding, “Guess we gotta watch each other’s backs, can’t trust these newbies.”

Steve chuckled slightly, “I’ve always got your back, don’t worry.” Her Y/E/C eyes sparkled at his comment, turning back to the TV as Nat gave her a small shove to the shoulder, signifying she was missing something. She gave her a look as to say ‘I was paying attention’ and Nat chuckled, shaking her head. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of Y/N, though. Her bubbly attitude just captured his attention, and although she didn’t know it, she loved that she could always make him smile. Steve’s dazzling smile brightened her day, and his constant determination helped her break through when she first joined the team. They helped each other out in more ways than they could even know.

The rest of the team eventually wandered into the common space, snacking and browsing through the lame channels on the TV, awaiting the dreaded arrival of the Four.

“Do we have to greet them?” Clint asked, reaching his hand into Y/N’s popcorn bowl, making her smack the archer on the back of the head.

“Yeah, we do,” Wanda said solemnly, “But no one’s forcing us to be nice, right?”

Y/N let out a small laugh at Wanda’s comment, “We want them to have our backs, no? I wouldn’t trust someone I didn’t get along with.” This was easy for her to say, considering everyone got along with her, but she was right. Going into something dangerous where you didn’t trust the people alongside you was a terrible combination.

“Y/N’s right,” Steve spoke up, “We want them to trust us, and we need to trust them, so making a good first impression is usually pretty important.” Y/N’s heart fluttered at how he sided with her, but she kept a neutral expression and shot Clint a death glare as he reached his hand into her popcorn once again, eyes focused on the television as he couldn’t care less about the drama.

“Do we have to talk about this again? It’s not that huge of a deal,” he spat popcorn all over Y/N as he turned his head to talk to the team, causing her to flick him across the forehead.

The team realized he was right, that they were dragging this out to be a bigger deal than it should be, so they dropped the subject and went off to do their own thing, waiting for Fury to drag them into a conference later on.

Y/N waltzed over to the kitchen, stretching her legs from sitting criss crossed on the couch for about two hours, and headed towards the coffee machine, the smell of freshly made coffee being too much for her to turn down. She poured herself a cup and took a small sip, letting herself taste the delicious coffee without burning her tongue to a crisp.

“Good coffee, huh?” Tony smirked to her from where he was sitting on the kitchen island, “You’re welcome.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment, sitting herself between Bucky and Wanda, facing the billionaire, “You may have built the coffee machine, Stark, but you didn’t invent the drink itself.”

He was about to respond with a witty comment, but was interrupted by Fury entering the room, gathering everyone’s attention.

“They’ve arrived, so please meet us in the conference room in 10,” with that, he exited the room, leaving everyone looking at each other before stopping what they were doing, making their way to the meeting. Steve rushed up from the couch to stand next to Y/N, but she was too focused on getting over there to notice that he almost appeared from nowhere.

As they walked over, Clint mumbled comments about how he knew they were going to be douches just because they put ‘Fantastic’ in their name. Y/N chuckled at his antics, but noticed Steve was feeling quite the opposite. As he walked next to her, she could feel the tension radiating off of his body, and she placed a hand on his forearm, causing him to turn his blue eyes to face her.

“You good, Rogers?” She asked, her soft features laced with clear concern, making him melt on the inside.

“It’s just, the last time I led a team with people who didn’t get along, it didn’t exactly end the best, I’m hoping this goes better than we’re envisioning,” he said, turning his attention back to the front as he walked and she nodded, understanding where he was coming from.

“We’re not going to war though, Cap, I’ll do my best to play nice for you,” she smiled up at him as they approached the conference room, Clint being first to open the door and lead them inside. When they stepped inside, the four new people sitting around the table caught Y/N’s attention.

Her eyes dragged over Sue Storm, who was a beautiful blonde woman, her hair falling neatly over her shoulders as she sat upright with perfect posture. Rich. She noticed Reed Richards, whose messy dark hair and warm eyes looked comforting, but he didn’t seem like someone Y/N would aspire to be friends with. You already had a feeling him and Stark might not get along. The Thing stood in the corner, obviously too large to sit on a chair, arms crossed as his eyes scanned the room, a dull expression on his cracked face as he looked around. Lastly, Y/N’s eyes fell on Johnny Storm, who if she wasn’t mistaken, had insane similarities in facial features to Steve Rogers. She glanced her eyes back and forth between the two and Steve picked up on it, rolling his eyes as to say ‘don’t compare me to him.’ She laughed and took a seat between Steve and Bucky, the room going silent as Fury stood up.

“So, for introductions, team, this is Sue Storm, Reed Richards, Johnny Storm, and Ben Grimm, also known as The Thing,” Fury spoke, “Fantastic Four, these are the Avengers,” Fury waved his hand to point at them, “Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Y/N Y/L/N, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Scott Lang, and Natasha Romanoff.”

After Fury made the introductions, he pulled up a bunch of files on what would be the upcoming mission, telling everyone whose team they were going to be on for clarification. Y/N tried her best to focus on Fury, but she could feel Johnny Storm’s eyes piercing into the side of her head, a small smirk on his face as he did so. She immediately felt a cocky vibe coming from him but chose not to focus on it, nodding along to Fury’s words.

Steve also picked up on the way Storm’s eyes lingered on Y/N, his jaw slightly tense, but he didn’t want to make a big deal of it, so he let it slide as Y/N gave him a small smile. The rest of the conference went smoothly, no one ripping each other’s throats out, no one really speaking to each other even. Y/N was surprised at how calm Tony stayed when Reed Richards made a small jab towards Iron Man at one point, but really, she was surprised at how she stayed calm. Defending Tony was like instinct to her, so the fact that she didn’t launch herself across the long glass table and knock the guy out made her feel collected.

Fury finished off the meeting with letting everyone know they were taking off tomorrow night, 7:30 sharp, two jets for two different teams, “Please get to know and trust each other before then.”

Everyone stood up and walked out of the room, Y/N walking next to Bucky who was upset at the way The Thing looked at his metal arm, a string of quiet profanities leaving his mouth, even calling The Thing, ‘the stupid sand guy’ making her laugh. Steve stood on the other side of her, not really saying anything, and she decided to break his silence after Bucky went off rambling to Clint about the same thing.

“Steve, did you notice how much that guy looked like you?” Y/N grinned up at the blond who rolled his eyes at her.

“Shut up, we don’t look alike,” he grumbled silently and she noticed how he didn’t seem to be in a playful mood, “I did, however, notice the way he was staring at you.”

Y/N scoffed, “Right? That was intense.” Right as she finished her sentence, Johnny’s figure approached the two of them, but his eyes were more focused on her than Steve.

“Hi, Johnny Storm, it’s an honour to be working with you guys,” he smiled down at her, making Steve instinctively step closer to her, Johnny’s eyes scanning her body.

Steve let out a small cough, “Hi.”

Y/N noticed Steve’s cold tone and looked up at him before turning her attention back to Johnny, “Of course it’s an honour to work with us, we’re the freaking Avengers, thank you very much.”

Steve loved the sass in her voice as she placed her hands on her hips, a small smirk on her lips as she faced Johnny, who raised an eyebrow and chuckled at her comment.

“Of course,” he smiled, “I’ve seen you on the news, you’re quite incredible.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly at his comment, not expecting a compliment, “Oh, I’m only good because I kick Barnes’ ass in training,” she spoke loudly, catching Bucky’s attention as he gave her a small flip of the finger, making her laugh.

Steve wasn’t sure how to feel about the interaction, he knew Y/N had a sassy, lovable personality, but she was also a natural flirt. She was charming, and she knew it, usually using it to her advantage when they needed something from someone, and maybe that’s what she was doing now, but the way Johnny’s looked at her, Steve wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and take her away from him.

“You should show me what you’ve got, then,” Johnny smirked, and Y/N took her hands off of her hips, crossing her arms as if to challenge him.

“You definitely wouldn’t be able to handle me, fire boy,” she teased, and Steve could feel the overwhelming jealousy pour through his body like lava, his entire body tensing up at the way she was talking to him, and he knew he had no right to be jealous, they weren’t dating, but he was so infatuated by her that he wanted to be the only one she teased and flirted with.

“Tomorrow morning, we’ll put this to the test, deal, darling?” Johnny smirked, sticking his hand out to which Y/N gladly accepted the challenge, shaking his hand with a small smirk on her face as well. She could feel the warmth coming from his hand, making her instantly relax, feeling somewhat at ease around him. She realized he was flirting, and she could feel how tense Steve was from next to her, so she thought she’d play around with this and have fun. Afterall, if Steve was jealous, it meant he liked her back, right? Now, if only she could get him to admit it...

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a headache, quickly walking down to the kitchen in her shorts and sweatshirt to take some medication, probably making herself a coffee in the process. She had agreed to train with Johnny this morning, but with the way she was feeling now, she wasn’t sure if that was the best idea, she needed to feel her best for tonight’s mission.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Natasha smiled at the girl when she entered the kitchen, stopping herself from laughing, “I’m really liking the hairdo, it’s very fashionable.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Nat’s comment, trying her best to smooth out her hair with one hand as she searched the cupboards for a glass, “Sorry, Nat, not everyone is blessed with beautifully bouncy hair.”

Natasha laughed, pouring Y/N a cup of coffee, “I think that-”

The redhead was cut off when Tony and Clint walked into the room, arguing about which was better, Star Wars or Star Trek.

Y/N let out a small scoff, “It’s too early to be arguing, you nerds.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, walking up to her, “Too early for arguing? Sorry, who was it that burst into my room at two in the morning last week to cuss me out about something I did in her dream?” Y/N looked down at the cup of coffee in her hand, slightly ashamed at her argument with Tony that he clearly didn’t understand.

“Me,” she mumbled, defeated by his point. Tony let out a hum of content, turning away from her. Steve and Wanda had now piled into the kitchen in search of food as well.

“No training session with fire guy this morning?” Steve asked her, a hint of attitude behind his voice, causing her to let out a sigh. She knew he was jealous, but if he was going to have an attitude about it, she was going to get fed up real quick.

“No, why do you ask?” She questioned him, a small smirk on her face as she turned to look at him. Natasha and Tony shared a look between themselves, both of them knowing about Steve and Y/N’s attractions towards one another, but realizing that they were going to drag this out.

He shrugged, “No reason, just wondering.”

Y/N nodded, pretending to understand his ‘just wondering’ about her training session, walking over to sit next to Natasha along the kitchen island as Bucky and Scott walked in, both looking half-dead.

“Good sleep, boys?” Y/N laughed as Bucky shot her a death glare, Scott flipping her off with his head shoved in the fridge. This is how most mornings were spent, the team lounging around the kitchen together as they made small talk, having breakfast and coffee. It was Y/N’s favourite time of the day, she loved just being with her best friends.

The day went by quickly, extremely quickly, and before she knew it, Y/N was piled into the Quinjet with Steve and the team, going over the floor plan of the building they were about to break into. She locked her guns into her belt and thigh holster, clipping on her suit that Tony designer, tying her hair up into a high ponytail to avoid the loose strands flying into her face.

“You understand your roll, Y/N?” Steve asked her, “You’ll go into the control room, handle the four guys in there, and join me in the room over here where I’ll wait for you to join, we’ll download their files onto this hard drive after you hack their systems in there, and we’ll meet up here once we’re all done, clear?”

The team nodded, all understanding their roles. Y/N sat in the back of the jet next to Bucky, stretching her body to prepare for physical combat. The brunet soldier looked up at her from where he was sitting and motioned for her to come over. She tilted her head, confused, but walked over and sat next to him, eyeing him over to ask what was wrong.

“So, you and Steve..” he started, but Y/N cut him off with a glare, making him immediately stop talking.

“I appreciate you wanting to look out for your friend’s love life, Buck, but you’re imagining things,” she stated, turning away from him to look at Steve. Her eyes wandered down his body, looking so damn fine in his stealth suit, and her eyes might have lingered on his ass a little longer, not that she’d ever admit it.

“Look, I know it’s none of my business,” Bucky stated, causing her to draw her eyes away from America’s Ass, facing him once again, “But from what I’ve seen, Storm boy over there seems to have some sort of interest in you, I don’t want you to get sucked into that when Steve’s really got it for you. Bad.”

Y/N sighed, understanding what Bucky was saying, but her stubborn mind spilled out the words before she could process them, “Well, until Mr Independence Day wants to confess his feelings, I’m free to flirt with whomever I want.”

Bucky let out a sigh as she smirked, but he understood that she was partially going to flirt loudly with Johnny only so Steve could give in and confess his feelings. He didn’t get a chance to continue the conversation, though, because Johnny motioned for Y/N to come over, and she did so with a smile on her face.

“Hey, quick question,” he asked her quietly and she leaned in to hear him, “Do you think Captain’s making a solid decision by sending you into four guys alone?” From the other side of the jet, Steve rolled his eyes at Johnny’s comment, but Y/N only threw him an amused look.

“Steve knows my abilities better than anyone, I’ve taken him down quite a few times, so yes, he knows I can handle four security guards,” she placed a hand on her hip, leaning against the vibrating wall of the jet, and even though Steve wanted to be mad at her for carelessly flirting, he had to admit that she looked beautiful. Before a mission, she had a spark in her eye, excitement, determination, and thrill, and it took his breath away.

Johnny chuckled, “That’s fair, I can’t wait to see you in action.” He finished it with a smirk, reaching his hand across to brush a loose strand of hair out of her face, tucking it into her ponytail.

Y/N noticed the innuendo but decided to brush it off, “Oh, you will.”

Natasha scoffed from the pilot’s seat of the jet next to Clint, “Oh, shut it, you two, keep the flirting for once we’re done.”

“Yeah,” Steve said coldly, sitting next to Bucky, “It’s honestly a little disturbing. There’s a mission at hand, focus on that instead. You’re a good agent, Y/N, don’t change my mind.”

She almost couldn’t believe the way Steve spoke to her, and she couldn’t help her involuntary jaw drop as the blue eyed soldier shot her a dark glare, sending shivers down her spine as she crossed her arms, approaching him.

“What’s that, Rogers?” She challenged, “You doubting me?”

Steve immediately felt bad for what he said, not wanting to sound so harsh, but he wanted nothing more than to stop the flirting between the two.

“I’m not doubting you,” he said lowly, “But I’d appreciate if you acted more like you cared about the mission than him.”

Y/N felt the anger bubble inside of her and had to clench her fists to prevent herself from punching Steve in the face, “You saying I’m letting some guy prevent me from doing my job?” Steve could feel the anger radiating off of her, “You may be from the 40s, but times have changed, Steve. Women can fight, and they can do whatever the fuck they want to do with men, alright? Not that what I do is any of your business anyways, though.”

She raised an eyebrow when he had no response, and turned back to re join Johnny who luckily, didn’t hear the full conversation.

“What’s his problem?” Johnny asked her quietly, motioning his head in the direction of Steve. Y/N didn’t answer, but when she felt the jet slow down, she knew that she wouldn’t have time to answer. Steve and Bucky joined the team at the small table in the middle, clarifying out entrances as Nat and Clint landed the jet. He handed everyone their comms and they all turned them on, ready to communicate once they went their separate ways. Sue and Johnny hugged it out, wishing each other good luck. Y/N and Natasha gave each other a fist pump and Y/N wanted nothing more than to give Steve a good luck hug as they always did, but she was too upset at him right now to do it.

When the jet landed, they each went their separate ways. Y/N went to the security booth and eyed the four men, Steve and Nat went to the side door of the building, waiting for Y/N to take them down and disarm the camera and security systems before going in, Sue, Johnny and Bucky were going to jump in through the second floor window to cause a distraction, and Clint stayed guard over the jet.

“On your go, Y/N,” She heard Steve’s voice through her earpiece and took this as her start. She quietly walked over to the glass booth where four men stood around computer screens in their security guard uniforms.

“Boys, I’m lost, mind helping a girl out?” She asked innocently and within a second, the four men had their eyes on her, one even with his hand placed on the gun in his belt.

“Oh, no need for that,” she smirked, “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

It didn’t take long for her to take them down, leaving them all bloody on the floor, barely breaking a sweat herself as she sat down on the swivel chair, easily accessing the computer as there wasn’t even a password.

“I’m in, gimme three seconds,” she spoke and Steve and Natasha gave small noises to let her know they heard her. Through her earpiece, she could hear Johnny, Sue and Bucky creating a fine distraction upstairs, taking the people out of the room Steve and Nat were about to go into.

“Wonderful job, Y/N,” Johnny’s voice made her crack a small smile as she opened the security software, easily disabling it, letting Steve and Nat know they were good to go in.

“Why, thank you, darlin’,” she grinned, stepping over the bloody bodies to make her way out of the security booth and into the building.

“Shut it, you two,” Steve sounded annoyed, but before she could answer him through the comms, she entered the room where him and Nat sat at the computer, downloading the important files onto a USB drive. Y/N stood guard of the two as they hurried to download what they needed.

Two men ran into the room, guns pointed towards them, but they didn’t have time to even place their fingers on the trigger before Y/N shot the two down, not even batting her eyelashes.

“Second floor is clear,” Bucky said softly, “We’re coming down to you.”

Nat finished hacking into their software and downloaded everything they needed, pulling the USB drive out and throwing it into the pocket on her bodysuit, giving Steve a nod.

Johnny ran into the room, followed by Bucky and Sue, and Y/N almost shooting them as they startled her, and grouped up, ready to head back to the jet. Clint gave them the OK that Tony’s team got everything they needed and that everyone was good to go.

They took off out of the building, hearing more men running after them, but they were quicker than them. Y/N made sure to stay at the back, ready to fire at anyone she saw that wasn’t part of their team. They rushed onto the jet and Clint closed it up, lifting off right away. Natasha showed off the USB drive proudly, making Y/N high-five her.

“That was extremely quick, nice work guys,” Clint gave the team a thumbs up, making them all smile. Steve went around, telling everyone they did a good job one by one, like the true professional leader he was.

“Did I disappoint you, captain?” Y/N sassed, taking her weapons out of her suit and placing them on a table, not daring to look at him.

Steve, although upset with her, was grateful she didn’t get injured, “No, you didn’t, good job, Y/N.”

Y/N almost felt bad for her petty remark, but before she could say anything else to him, he had walked away to go talk to Bucky. She was confused about her feelings towards him, she was crazy about him, there was no denying it, but she hated the way he had treated her like she was incapable before. She wasn’t sure how to feel, but she knew damn well she was going to have to bring the flirting up a notch to annoy Steve even more. She realized how childish it sounded in her head, but she just wanted the soldier to confess his feelings. So, she was about to push him to the brink.

She waltzed over to Johnny who sat quietly in the corner of the jet, and without having second thoughts about what he was doing, she grabbed him by the neck and pulled his face down to hers, pressing their lips together. Steve felt his heart stopped, looking over to Bucky who looked just as bewildered. Natasha rolled her eyes, knowing damn well what she was doing. Johnny tensed up, but quickly eased into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist. Y/N almost instantly regretted it, knowing she probably pushed Steve too far, and pulled away, giving Johnny an awkward nod as she walked away from him, not letting him say anything.

Steve felt his blood boil, he couldn’t believe what she just did. Bucky had always told him she had feelings for him, but now, he was incredibly pissed.

“Y/N, what the hell?” Steve asked in a harsh whisper, following her to the other end of the jet where she sat down slowly, pressing her lips together as she hid her face in her hands.

“I don’t know, that was a mistake,” she mumbled quietly, regret taking over her whole body.

“Damn right that was a mistake, what were you thinking?” Steve asked, a little softer this time as he realized she was feeling bad about what she just did.

Y/N gave in, not wanting to argue with him anymore. She just wanted everything to get thrown out in the open.

“I like you, Steve, a stupid amount,” She began and Steve felt his heart pick up speed, “I saw how agitated you were when he was flirting with me and I wanted to push it so you’d ask me out, but clearly, you wanted to put me down instead. I’m sorry.”

He looked over her, realizing that she couldn’t be lying. Her fingers were shaking and her cheeks were slightly flushed, Steve had never seen her like this. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and she couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“You thought kissing him was going to make me ask you out?” Steve asked, a slight bit of amusement lacing his soft voice as she brought her eyes up to look at him. Her heart stopped when she noticed the small smile Steve wore on his face, the anger from before fading away.

“I guess,” Y/N mumbled and Steve chuckled, placing his hand over her thigh, sending goosebumps through her entire body at his warm touch.

“Well, not exactly,” he looked over at her, “But what you just said makes me want to. I’ve liked you for quite a while too, so how about we go to dinner tomorrow, just the two of us, and have a good time?”

Y/N couldn’t have nodded her head fast enough, breaking into a huge smile. She looked over and saw Johnny now in a conversation with Sue, so she didn’t feel like going over and explaining everything now, but all in due time. Natasha threw Y/N a subtle thumbs up, making her laugh, missing the thumbs up Bucky gave to Steve.

The two sat in silence for the rest of the flight back to HQ, just happy to finally have everything out in the open, both of them buzzing with excitement for their date to come.

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers one shots #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america imagines #marvel #marvel imagine #the avengers #Avengers #avengers imagines #avengers imagine

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grimmjowkurosakidrake · 5 years ago

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Prayers

Sumary: Naruto and Sasuke don’t know, that Kunoichi pray for death before falling into the hands of the enemy.

Rated: T (for discussions of possible rape) Not explicit. (No one gets raped but they talk about the possibility).

Characters: Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki

Relationships: Sakura Haruno/Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura Haruno & Sasuke Uchiha & Naruto Uzumaki

For the Sasusaku month day 15: Prayers

“Hey, Sakura-Chan,” Inquires Naruto one day after practice. “What is Kunoichi culture?”

“Where did you learn about that?” Asks Sakura mystified by her teammate’s randomness even when she knows she shouldn’t. After all, Naruto has a knack for surprising everyone.

“I hear stuff. You know?” he comments holding the back of his head in both palms in a nonchalant gesture. “TenTen-San was talking about it with Neji and Lee...” He finally confesses “So why don’t you talk with us about it?” he’s not accusing her of anything but Naruto still looks pointedly at Sasuke as if wanting for his support.

Sasuke only grunts but he glares at her, waiting for her to give up and share this piece of information apparently only she is privy to hold in their team.

“Shall we go to Sasuke-kun’s house then?” She smiles uncertain.

Sasuke’s bare apartment is their sanctuary, their safe heaven for when they desire to be alone and safe, away from prying eyes. His house is always empty, not like Sakura’s that more often than not, has one or two of her parents waiting to strike up a conversation.

His apartment is also clean; a characteristic Naruto can never brag about when it comes to his own living space.

Sasuke offers them tea and biscuits like his parents always did when they were still alive and had guests over the compound.

Naruto throws himself on his couch and demands ramen, Sakura herself sits on the settee style pastel pink chair he once bought in a thrift sale just for her, after a series of arguments about who sits by who at movie nights in his old couch.

The chair crashes horribly with the minimalist’s colours of his apartment and he knows he would’ve never buy something like that if it wasn’t for her.

But Sakura’s dainty form looks pretty in it. Sakura looks cute in the chair, when she sits with her back straight against it, when she rests her hands in the arms of the chair and smiles content and comfortable.

“Do you want me to make the tea?” She asks.

“No.” He denies curtly to the both of them.

He ends up serving them plum tea, even when he hates it, and salted cookies just because Sakura and Naruto ate all of the sweet biscuits the last time they came over.

“Did you know Kunoichi pray before every mission?” She starts.

“Why? Are you all really religious?” Asks Naruto confused “Are you part of a cult, Sakura-Chan?”

“We pray for death if we fail” She clarifies. “Because for the Kunoichi, there’s a possibility worse than death or torture if we get captured.” Explains Sakura sadly.

“All Shinobi expect death if we fail” Recites Sasuke, “So we don’t disclose the secrets of our village to the enemy.”

“But I don’t have any secrets in my body, Sasuke-kun.” She sips her cup of tea, talking with a cold tone of voice. “So which secrets do you think that I would want to hide so much I pray for death?” Sasuke doesn’t have an answer and Sakura assumes his silence as ignorance “There’s a danger for us women, that men are not subjected to, or at least not as much as us.”

“I don’t understand, Sakura-chan” complains Naruto squinting his eyes in confusion.

“Rape, Naruto. I’m talking about rape.” She states bluntly. Her voice hoarse, her eyes steeled and fixed on both of her teammates. “Kunoichi pray to die before being raped if we fall in the enemy’s hands. There are somethings we fear that Shinobis simply don’t even think about, sometimes. So we form our bonds as sisters and live by the rituals that comfort us.”

Both Sasuke and Naruto can’t speak after that. They don’t even know what to say, they teach them about death, about pain and about lost in the academy. But they never taught them about rape.

Maybe they should have.

“Did you know we’re forced to lose our virginity at fifteen? Some girls like Ino and Hinata-chan are safe from that because they’re the ladies of their clan. But civil Kunoichi are not as lucky.” She sighs. “We keep tight information of good men who will treat us well before the elders decide for us, we take care of each other afterwards and we maintain the love of our bodies as sacred beyond the horrors of Ninja culture. Kunoichi culture is a safe net in a world that sees our bodies as weapons and tools and I didn’t talk with you about it because you shouldn’t have to open your eyes more and see an uglier world than you already have.”

Naruto stares at the floor and tightens his fists so hard, Sakura is sure he’s bleeding. He’s not even holding the fat, ugly tears running down his face. “When I become Hokage,” he sobs soundly “When I become Hokage, I’ll change things around Sakura-chan! I promise you that.” He cries openly.

Even if by then it would be too late for her, Sakura falls off her chair in order to run at his side in the couch, she whimpers, moved by his conviction and holds Naruto’s hand “I know you will, Naruto. I trust you.”

Sasuke who hasn’t said anything until then, suddenly raises his voice “I will assimilate you into the Uchiha clan.” He states. “I have the right as clan head.”

“But…” She stutters in confusion “I don’t understand Sasuke-kun.”

“It’s freedom, Sakura. My clan is dead.” The reality is harsh but just for this time, convenient “You won’t even have to marry me because as the only woman in my clan, you would automatically be named as lady Uchiha, and you would be safe.”

“But that is your family name, Sasuke-kun. Your legacy.” She breaks out crying, thankful but saddened.

“You are my family now” he admits, not only to her but to himself “and I won’t leave you alone to be hurt in any way. Not if I can help it.”

Naruto has the immediate answer of hugging both of his teammates against Sasuke’s protests and encouraged by Sakura’s open cries of happiness and anguish.

“But don’t think about hogging Sakura-chan! You, bastard!” He exclaims. “I will be marrying her someday, you’ll see!”

Sakura hits him on the head and Sasuke elbows him in the ribs.

The three of them fall tired on the couch but they remain there, holding each other close.

#I'm the worst #this is full of headcanons #Sakura Haruno #sakura centric #kunoichi centric #Sasuke Uchiha #Naruto uzumaki #naruto fanfiction #sasusaku #sasusaku fic #Sasusaku month #Team seven fic #Sasusaku month 2019 #Ssm19

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rosa-berberifolia · 5 years ago

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The Man at the Bar 2|Mortal Kombat x Reader|Kenshi x Reader

A/N: This is part 2 to the Man at the Bar. Take a look around and make sure no one is reading over your shoulder. Or let ‘em read it. If you’ve got the balls, use them!

Be Warned: Definitely SFW escalating to Definitely NSFW

Word Count: 2400 ± 50

---------

Jacqui was really helpful in helping you get ready for your date with Kenshi. Even though he couldn’t see you, you still wanted to look your best for him so that at least he could be seen with a good looking woman on his arm. Jacqui helped you curl your hair and pin it up into a loose up-do. You wore statement earrings with a bracelet, no necklace. And your dress (with your spanx underneath ;) ) was a black tea length number with a very low cut neckline, and black pumps to match. Jacqui helped you with your makeup before leaving to go to the restaurant Kenshi asked you to meet him at.

You walked in and looked around. It was a nice place, not the fanciest, but not a regular type place. The room was dimly lit so you had to squint to find Kenshi. He was sat at a table towards the back. Your shoes clicked on the floor as you walked over. You saw his eyebrows knit together as he tilted his head so that his right ear faced where you were coming from.

“Kenshi.” You greeted. He stood up to hug you, something you weren’t expecting.

“Y/n.” He said taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. “You look beautiful.” He said motioning for you to sit down.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “How would you know? For all you know I’m in a onesy that looks like a unicorn. That clicking on the ground you heard is because I’m wearing stilts…I’m eight feet tall right now.” You lied playfully.

Kenshi laughed at your remark. “You’d be beautiful no matter what clothes you wear…or didn’t wear.” Kenshi countered quickly making you smile and blush.

“Good answer.” You said as the waiter came to pour you both some wine. Then he handed you a menu which you took. But you became confused when he didn’t give Kenshi one. Then you realized, unless it was Braille, he wouldn’t be able to read it. “Do you need help with the menu?” You asked.

“I already know what I’ll have.” He said calmly. “But thank you.”

It was silent while you read the menu, deciding what you were going to have, and trying not to be too nervous. In truth, you were very nervous. Your stomach was doing flips and you swore that your heart was skipping every other beat. Kenshi was really nice the last time you saw him. And not to mention, he was very attractive. Even if he was older. You liked his slightly graying hair and beard. You wondered what it would feel like between your legs as he nipped at your thighs before… You decided on the pasta, and then closed your menu and put it on the table, and took a sip of wine trying to calm down from your licentious feelings. You looked up to find Kenshi facing you with one eyebrow cocked.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He said taking a sip of his wine, but then he licked his lips and bit his lower one sensuously. You couldn’t help the pool of wetness growing in your panties. You squirmed uncomfortably in your chair. You cleared your throat to clear your head.

“So how did you get into the fighting business?” You asked trying to distract yourself from the aroused tension that was growing between you two. Kenshi answered your question, and the rest of the night’s conversations were the same as the food. Great and satisfying. You were pleased to find out that you and Kenshi really did have a lot of the same characteristics and interests, and enough that were different that you could challenge one another. You found yourself smiling throughout the evening. You couldn’t lie. You really liked Kenshi. And by all appearances he seemed to like you too.

You were talking about difficulties you two had experienced in your lifetime. Kenshi had his forearms laying on the table while he discussed how he went blind with you. His story was so sad that you put your hand on his to comfort him. He stopped talking as soon as he felt your hand on his. But then he put his other hand on top of yours and then kept telling his story. He stroked the back of your hand lovingly while he talked.

Eventually the conversation took a turn and you somehow found yourself making a reference to a nature documentary that you had seen. You loved to watch them. Even if sometimes they were sad. They just fascinated you so much. Understanding the reference, Kenshi answered with the follow up line from that same documentary, and then you two started talking about how much you love watching them.

“You should come watch one with me.” You offered.

“And when would we do that?” Kenshi asked mischievously lifting an eyebrow at you.

“Whenever.” You smiled and bit your lip at him, not that he could see.

“I could get the check and we could cap off the evening with one?” He offered.

“Your place or mine?” You asked in the most sultry voice you could manage.

“Mine.” He said in what seemed to be almost a growl. Holy shit did it do things in you. The excitement rumbled deep within your core and you found yourself nodding, but then realized he couldn’t see that, so you spoke.

“Okay.”

///

The two of you walked hand in hand to Kenshi’s place. It was within the Special Forces compound. You walked into the small apartment. It was dark, all of the blinds were drawn. Kenshi felt along the wall by the entrance for the light switch and turned it on. You saw that his place was well kept. Almost everything had a Braille label on it. You watched as Kenshi went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine. He felt on the cupboards for the labels, opening one of them and pulling out two wine glasses.

“I can do that if you want.” You offered.

“Thank you.” He said as he moved out of your way. He walked over to the living room where there was a couch and a small TV but an intricate sound and AI system.

“System on.” Kenshi said. The TV turned on and it made a start up noise.

“Welcome home.” The system addressed. You walked into the room with the two now full glasses of wine.

“Does it matter what we watch?” Kenshi asked you.

You shook your head as you both sat next to each other on the couch. “No, I love them all.” You said truthfully. He nodded to you.

“System, open Netflix and play Africa.” He ordered his AI. The system turned on Netflix and immediately started playing the documentary. David Attenborough started talking and you two listened silently while Mr. Attenborough spoke. You held hands and graced each other’s skin with your thumbs. Soon your head rested on his shoulder and you put your other hand on his thigh. You felt Kenshi’s body tense up but then relax as you rubbed gentle circles into his muscled leg. You could hear him swallow harshly at your actions.

Suddenly he sat up and faced you. You moved back for him to move as he wanted. You were confused. Had you done something wrong? You waited for him to say something. But he just held his lips between his teeth as if he were contemplating something.

“May I try something?” He asked.

You nodded, “Sure.” Then Kenshi put an affectionate hand under your chin and he guided your lips to his. The kiss was sweet and tender. As if he were testing the waters, seeing how receptive you were to him. When you kissed back he smiled into the next ones. Soon the kisses became less and less gentle. His hand moved from your chin to the side of your head, putting his fingers through your hair to hold you to him. You did the same with your right hand, using your left one to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him, keeping him against you. You moved on to his lap and you held his face in your hands as you kissed roughly. But he moved to kiss a trail to your ear, taking your ear lobe between his teeth to nibble on it before he sucked for a moment.

“You’re thoughts have been very distracting.” He said to you. You pulled away.

“What?” You asked. How could he know what you’ve been thinking?

An almost worried expression graced Kenshi’s face before it relaxed. “It’s been fairly obvious.” He said pulling you back towards him. He kissed just under your ear before continuing in a husky voice. “In your tone. The way you smell. Everything about you is just…distracting.” And then he started to leave open and hot kisses down your neck, across your chest and then up the other side of your neck to your lips again. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him. Wanted to see what he was capable of in the bedroom. The eroticism of the whole evening was pooling in your core and it was aching to be relieved.

“Then do something about it.” You said playfully. You wished that he would just take you to his room and have his way with you. He pulled away from you slightly to lick a strip from your collar bone up your neck to your chin. Then he kissed you roughly as his hands found their way under your ass, holding you to him as his stood up from the couch and walked over to his bedroom.

He dropped you down on the bed. When his hands were free of you he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. He crawled up your body, leaving kisses as he slowly made his way up to you, taking extra care to leave sloppy wet ones between your breasts and up to your lips. He kissed you once before he hooked his fingers into the straps of your dress and pulled it down just enough so that your breasts were loose.

He captured one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling the nub and then licking it while his other hand massaged the other breast. It felt like heaven and it made the ache between your legs that much greater. He switched to the other breast and that was when you had a terrible thought.

‘Oh god! The spanx!’ You thought. You arched your back as though you were having that much pleasure from Kenshi’s ministrations. And you would have been if it not for the granny panties that you were wearing. So while he worked on your breasts you hooked your fingers into your dress and panties and pulled them the rest of the way down so that Kenshi wouldn’t have to do it and therefore wouldn’t know what you had on underneath your dress.

Kenshi smiled into the kisses he placed on your chest, making his way back up to your mouth to capture your lips in another passionate kiss. His one hand came to the back of your head to cradle it and the other roamed your now exposed body. He eventually came to your pussy and he ghosted his fingers on it making you moan in anticipation. You felt the smirk on Kenshi’s lips as he kissed you. Then his fingers went between your folds rubbing your clit slowly.

“That wet already?” Kenshi asked teasingly. You nodded into the kisses as your hands wandered along his abs, slowly making your way to his pants. You undid the button and started to slide his pants and underwear down his legs. You made sure to run you whole hand along his thighs, feeling how toned the muscles there were. Taking his member in your hands, you swirled your thumb over the tip, coating it in precum before pumping at an agonizingly slow pace. Kenshi groaned into your mouth.

Quickly he removed his hand from your pussy and grabbed your thigh and brought it up exposing your sex to him more. His fingers returned but instead of playing with your clit he entered one finger into your pussy and started pumping at the same pace that you worked on him. You moaned and he added another finger and picked up the pace.

“Mm! Kenshi!” You whimpered.

“Tell me what you want.” He said gutturally into your ear. He curled his fingers inside of you hitting your g-spot.

“Oh god!” You exclaimed. “I want you to fuck me!” Kenshi smiled proceeded to roughly attack your neck with messy kisses that felt so good against your skin. He moved each of your hands to be above your head and he held them there with one hand. The other hand grabbed his cock and teased you with the tip before he put on a condom. You wrapped your legs around his hips giving him better access. He pushed all the way into you at a torturously slow speed. Then he came all the way out and went all the way back in. He continued doing this until you couldn’t take it and you started to buck your hips. You heard Kenshi chuckle at you.

“Kenshi!” You whined. Kenshi smirked and then started to fuck you harshly. Roughly banging into you at a quick pace. The sound of skin on skin filled the room. Your moans and Kenshi’s moans added to make a sexual orchestra of sounds. You couldn’t help but think how amazing it would feel if he lifted your leg onto his shoulder. And before you could even ask he did what you were thinking.

You saw stars. It felt incredible. In this position he was able to hit exactly the right spot within you. Your moans turned to cries as the familiar knot in your abdomen started forming. But you needed a little something more to come. And again, as if Kenshi was reading your mind, he took his hands off of your leg and one went to massage your breast roughly, and the other went to rub circles on your clit. Holy fuck you felt amazing. You had never had sex this great. Within moments your pussy was contracting around his member. You came all over his dick, and the feeling of that caused Kenshi to come as well.

After a moment for you both to regain your breaths, Kenshi pulled out and fell onto the bed next to you. He put an arm underneath you and pulled you towards his side. You wrapped an arm around his chest and held him. He softly played with your hair and kissed your forehead.

Yeah…you liked Kenshi…a lot.

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat imagine #kenshi #kenshi x reader #kenshi imagine

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pvcked · 5 years ago

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s u r v e y : d a r b y b e l l e m o n t p e l l i e r

written in purple gel pen. it be like that.

basic information

FULL NAME: darby belle montpellier PRONUNCIATION: DARH-bee bell mAHnt-pell-yer MEANING: without envy REASONING: darby belle was named after a beloved family dog who was tragically killed by an automobile the night before she was born. how… quaint. her mother insisted on adding “belle” to match her older sister, elody mae’s, “name flow”. her father never really approved, but he his second army deployment began just before her birth, so her mother went ahead and did it anyway. NICKNAME(S): darby, darbs, darby belle, belle, fruit loop, the singer from pelagia, dee, db. puck ( only by her late father ) PREFERRED NAME(S): darby, darby belle BIRTH DATE: march 3, 2001 AGE: 18 ZODIAC: pisces GENDER: cisfemale PRONOUNS: she/her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual NATIONALITY: american. ETHNICITY: american. there are some french roots, way back, but they’re bastardized: her family pronounces their surname the southern way, not the french.

background

BIRTH PLACE: jonesborough, tennessee HOMETOWN: jonesborough, tennessee SOCIAL CLASS: upper-middle. FATHER: eric montpellier. deceased march 2, 2014. suicide. gunshot wound to the head. ptsd resulting from military duty. MOTHER: kenna mae montpellier. deceased february 22, 2007. housefire. SIBLING(S): elody mae, legal guardian. 25. artist and interior designer. faceclaim. BIRTH ORDER: youngest of two. elody mae is 7 years older. PET(S): none. she gets the sniffles! OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: n/a. PREVIOUS/CURRENT RELATIONSHIPS: she’s been in a long-term relationship with clark beecher since the fall of sophomore year. ARRESTS?: nope! PRISON TIME?: nope!

occupation & income

SOURCE OF INCOME: darby’s band, pelagia., has paid gigs around town and in neighboring towns. they sold copies of their first ep, too. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: yes!! between her and elody mae, they make things work. darby loves music; she practially lives and breathes in song. PAST JOB(S): she delivered papers for a lil’ while in tennessee. tagged along while elody mae biked. SPENDING HABITS: darby knows how to find herself a bargain! MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: her dad’s dog tags, which she keeps hidden under her pillow. some of his old navy blue sweaters. she throws ‘em on days when she misses him a little extra.

skills & abilities

TALENTS: musicianship. performing. songwriting. agile skating. playmaking. interpretive dancing. making her friends laugh. going cross-eyed for long periods of time. rolling her tongue. SHORTCOMINGS: she can’t say no to anyone she loves. quick to blame herself for things she can’t control ( like her parents’ passings ). elody mae rubs her wrong a lot and it��s not her sister’s fault, but they’ll go several days at a time without talkin’ when things get tense. swallowing her pride: she’s stubborn. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, enough spanish to get by ( acquired from high school classes, but her southern accent kinda bleeds through? so kids in class always kinda smirk when she tries out the speaking exercises ). DRIVE?: no. never learned. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: no. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: no. RIDE A BICYCLE?: nope. her dad never got ‘round to teachin’ her. SWIM?: no. they never had a pool. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: countless. she sings, plays guitar, piano, drums, banjo. PLAY CHESS?: she prefers checkers. BRAID HAIR?: is the sky blue? yes. TIE A TIE?: mhm. PICK A LOCK?: nope, but that’d be cool!

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: natalia dyer. EYE COLOR: bright baby blue. HAIR COLOR: light brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: down to her shoulders, curly. typically up in a ponytail or some kind of quick style. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: nope. DOMINANT HAND: right. she plays right wing. but she likes to cut food with her left. HEIGHT: 5′0 even. WEIGHT: 108 lbs. BUILD: very, very thin. surprisingly muscular, though. not built like a typical hockey player but boy, does she command the ice. her strength, like… bewilders everyone. recruiters came to see her play this spring and fuckin’ lost their shit. this girl ?! captain ?! right wing ?! does she disintegrate when she’s checked ?!?! EXERCISE HABITS: always movin’ and groovin’. darby loves going for runs. weight-lifting. playing pickup games with her boys. SKIN TONE: very fair. freckled. TATTOOS: none. PEIRCINGS: she has her ears pierced but almost never wears earrings, due to rink rules. MARKS/SCARS: some burn scars from the housefire that killed her mom in 2007, on the back of her left forearm/wrist and across her stomach. she’s really insecure about them and almost always wears long sleeves because of it. she also has a birthmark shaped like canada on the arch of her left foot. when they were alive and darby was very young, her parents used to joke that god put that mark there because he knew their daughter was going to be a hockey star.

NOTABLE FEATURES: her eyes. her tiny size. her laugh. USUAL EXPRESSION: smiley, vibrant. CLOTHING STYLE: long sleeve sweaters, jeans, vans. graphic long-sleeve tees –– she really likes the nature designs on patagonia ones, or cool/eclectic designs. converse. timberlands, leggings, and oversized sweatshirts. denim jackets. in the winter, she’s always bundled up because she runs cold. honestly? she’d sooner wear a hoodie and shorts in the summer than throw on a t-shirt. she does wear short sleeves, but mainly for team workouts and runs. JEWELRY: she wears her father’s wedding band around her neck on a thin gold chain, always tucked under whatever top she’s wearing. her sister does the same with her mother’s. ALLERGIES: strawberries. peanuts. bees. BODY TEMPERATURE: she runs real cold. are you using that sweatshirt? DIET: when elody mae cooks, darby eats well –– lots of pinterest recipes and plant-based meals. left to her own devices, she reverts to ease: poptarts, protein bars, almonds. sunflower butter and jam sandwiches. she typically skips lunch at school to write, or free skate, or sneak into the weight room with whatever team’s rented it out that period. she always snackin’ on pretzels. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: insomnia, since her mother’s death. worsened with her father’s passing. i imagine it’ll get worse with her sister disappearing, too. her mild dependency on painkillers.

psychology

MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good. TEMPERAMENT: sanguine. ELEMENT: air. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: insomnia. SOCIABILITY: she’ll talk to anyone and anything! she flits around west ham’s social sphere like it’s nothing. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: sensitive. doesn’t hide things well. PHOBIA(S): snakes. being stung by a bee. never being loved / never having the wherewithal to find it. not getting a hockey scholarship. emptying the medicine cabinet. not being able to call her dad’s cell to hear his voice. losing elody mae. losing everyone. ADDICTION(S): painkillers. but she’s in denial. DRUG USE: a little here ‘n there. if others are doin’ it. ALCOHOL USE: about as standard as you’d expect, from a varsity athlete dating another varsity athlete. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: if provoked. she’s got a hockey stick and she’ll use it, if you threaten anybody she cares for.

mannerisms

QUIRKS: bites her bottom lip and rolls it between her teeth when she’s thinking. squints directly at the sun despite being scolded for it for years. latches on to friends’ arms as if the universe might tug them apart at any moment, and navigating the school parking lot is exhaustively complex –– like she might get lost; like she might lose them. calling instead of texting. sniffing peanut butter: she can’t eat it, but she loves how it smells. sleeping all curled up in a ball, on her left side, with the blankets tugged up tight against her chin. wearing beanies and baseball caps indoors. waking up early enough for church each sunday: getting dressed, beginning the walk across town, only to turn back halfway. running drills at the rink instead of attending lunch hour. jotting down lyrics on standardized tests. humming in school stairwells, when she thinks she’s alone. tapping her locker dial three times with her index finger before putting in her combo. wriggles her nose when she’s trying not to laugh. gaze always, always drifting to the nearest window. funky patterned socks. she has a pair with picasso. HOBBIES: hockey. guitar, banjo, piano, drums. singing. songwriting. running, weightlifting. elody mae tried to get her into yoga, but her headspace is far too cluttered. making late-night ice cream runs to the local parlor, because she knows the owner and he’s always ready to give her a free scoop. HABITS: tapping her fingers on flat surfaces. skipping meals when she’s stressed. texting thumbs-up emojis to avoid having to give an actual answer to “ how are you? ” . masking darker thoughts with game suggestions and silly jokes. deflection. wearing her father’s old army tees to bed, and sniffing them each time as if the laundered clothing might still hold onto even just a whiff of his cologne. falling for the wrong people. believing. letting her nail polish chip and chip and chip until all that’s left is a silhouette of pigment. biting her nails. midnight runs. pressing leaves into notebooks to capture moments for which she lacks the words. over-gifting outside her means, arguing with her sister about it later. NERVOUS TICKS: biting her lip. not making eye contact. rubbing together her left index finger and thumb. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: honoring her parents’ memories. standing by elody mae. getting that hockey scholarship locked down, so her sister won’t have to give up more for her. making clark smile. oh, that boy’s smile. FEARS: the dark. heights. being stung by a bee. losing everyone. elody mae might find out she kept their dad’s dogtags. POSITIVE TRAITS: saccharine, musical, virtuosic. NEGATIVE TRAITS: diaphanous, dewey-eyed, naive. SENSE OF HUMOR: bubbly, giggly. she can find most things funny. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: no! her parents used to wash her mouth out with soap. CATCHPHRASE(S): “ well, golly ! ” & “ i’ll be darned ! ” & “ who’d have thunk ? ”

favorites

ACTIVITY: making music, playing hockey. ANIMAL: she loves bees. even though she’s terrified of ‘em! BEVERAGE: water. BOOK: twenty-thousand leagues under the sea by jules verne. her father used to read it to her at night, chapter by chapter. it inspired her band name: pelagia . it means the open sea. CELEBRITY: david beckham. adam mcquaid. COLOR: army green. DESIGNER: she likes thrifting. FOOD: pretzel sticks. FLOWER: daisies. GEM: amethyst. HOLIDAY: new year’s eve. she loves getting to blow party kazoos in everyone’s faces. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: walking or running. MOVIE: he wedding date. she’s a sucker for those stupid rom-coms. the mighty ducks. slap shot. MUSICAL ARTIST: cigarettes after sex, stevie nix, amy winehouse, the band camino, daniel caesar, etc. QUOTE/SAYING: “ honey, you got a big storm comin’ ! ” SCENERY: big open fields with bright green grass, wildflowers. SCENT: she doesn’t like candles, open flame. but she likes those lil’ air fresheners. eucalyptus, lavender, and peppermint calm her down. SPORT: hockey ! SPORTS TEAM: the west ham centurions, varsity girls hockey. she’s biased. she also likes the bruins. TELEVISION SHOW: bob ross specials. she used to watch ‘em all the time with her sister. WEATHER: warm ‘n breezy. VACATION DESTINATION: ontario, it looks so calm.

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: make it big in the music industry. have that be her career. GREATEST FEAR: she’ll lose more people she loves. MOST AT EASE WHEN: she’s with clark. or making tunes. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: she’s alone in the dark. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: selling out toad’s place for pelagia’s biggest show. BIGGEST REGRET: the last she said to her dad wasn’t i love you. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: she punched a boy in second grade for calling her a wussy. and then his crying made her cry. BIGGEST SECRET: she prayed to make a deal with the devil to bring her parents back and bartered anything he wanted. she feels like her father’s death is her fault. TOP PRIORITIES: spending all the time she can with clark. lookin’ after tess, making sure grizz knows he’s being watched. taking care of elody mae, at least, as much as she can. securing that hockey scholarship for college. winning states. being a good captain. making music, and using that to help... mend.

#newhamhq: task #🥀 –– i don't like myself when i'm awake ! isms.#death tw #suicide tw #gun mentions tw

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amirosebooks · 6 years ago

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Destiel / SPN Fics by Amirosebooks

This is crossposted to my Pillowfort page (same username as here) where you can actually see the links to the fics. Or you can find them on my AO3 page (also the same username). I’m not abandoning my Tumblr yet, but I will start sharing more things over on Pillowfort and will, eventually, likely migrate there entirely.

❤ Ami

A Chance G · 1,800 Words Getting together · Valentine’s Day fic · Fluff

For the DeanCas Writing Challenge September 2018. Prompt "I would be lucky to even have a chance with you.”

❤ The Rewatch T · 2,100 Words Bi!Dean · John Winchester’s A+ Parenting · Homophobia · Background Femslash · Charlie Bradbury Lives · Angst & Fluff

Based on the prompt "H-How long have you been standing there?"

Dean's is having a shitty day, a shitty week even. He ran into one of his exes unexpectedly and needs some time to himself to decompress. He retires to The Dean Cave to rewatch one of his favorite movies, hoping it will distract him from his memories. (It doesn't.)

They Were Going To Die Here T · 2,000 Words Kidnapped Dean & Cas · Love Confessions · Whump

Based on the prompt: "I told you not to fall in love with me."

Dean and Cas were captured weeks ago and are starting to lose hope of making it out alive. Somehow I'm not convinced Dean would be having a blaze of glory conversation with Cas in that situation with him instead of Sam.

Goop G · 2,000 Words Team Free Will · Destiel if you squint a lot · Goo · Comedy

Written for the Seasons fan fiction anthology. This story is from the Summer section which was intended to cover themes like: freedom, laughter, fun; sunshine, hot days; swimming, sunburns; slow, lazy, relaxed; contentment; flourishing growth, childhood; no regrets or second thoughts; unreality; disconnected from the darkness of “real life”; the prime of life; Fourth of July, Stanford, vacation from school.

I opted for writing a quick story celebrating a happy, ridiculous Team Free Will at its finest on a hunt sort of moment. I've been told by my main beta that the subject matter (witch guts) is sort of gross so keep that in mind.

The Orb T · 1,300 Words Team Free Will · Sammy Knows · Lovecraftian Monsters · Goo · Comedy

From the prompt: "You're lucky you're cute."

Cas brings a strange souvenir back from a hunt.

Band T-Shirts T · 2,500 Words Team Free Will · Domestic Fluff and Crack · Post Season 13 · Cas Gets A New Wardrobe · Agent Beyoncé References

From this prompt: There's a sort of standard fanon idea that when Cas becomes human, he borrows Dean's clothes for a while, and then eventually the brothers take him to Good Will or wherever for his own clothes.

I want to see that shopping trip. Basically just an excuse for fun shenanigans in a thrift store. I was thinking very new relationship for Dean and Cas, early days. Bonus points if Sam and Dean have some kind of game they've been playing in thrift stores across the country since they were kids, and if Cas comes up with some super goofy outfits. :D

❤ Forgetting Your Blues M · 3,500 Words Temporary Canonical Character Death · Post Season 12 · Fluff and Angst · Getting Together · Fix-It Fic · Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester

Dean Jones doesn't know his real name. He woke up on a public park bench a few months back with an empty wallet and a driver's license listing the name Dean Jones with his picture. The name doesn't feel right on his tongue, but he doesn't remember what part is wrong. The cop who found him in the park got Dean a job in a local diner. The diner feels comfortable to Dean. He understands the rhythm of the place, the ebb and flow of the people and food, even if he's clearly never carried a tray of hot plates in his life. He settles into his new life. He makes new friends. He takes beautiful women and men and people to his bed for comfort on long nights. He has nightmares about blood covering his hands. Who is he? Why has no one come looking for him? What has he done? Why did he fall apart when he saw a guy wearing a tan trenchcoat?

Letters To Ghosts Not Rated · 2,400 Words Temporary Canonical Character Death · Post Season 12 · The Mixtape · Season 13 Coda · Angst With A Happy Ending · Grieving Dean

All Dean wanted was a cup of coffee. What he got instead was a whole bunch of feelings and a raincheck he might never get to cash in.

❤ Humanity’s Angels E · 93,000 Words Case Fic · Canon Divergent Season 12 Fic · Bi!Dean · John Winchester’s A+ Parenting · Team Everyone Switches · Past Rape/Non-Con · BiPhobia · Canon-Typical Violence · Side Original Characters OT3 · Background Saileen · Jealous!Dean

To get their minds off of Kelly Kline, Lucifer, and the BMOL, Dean and Sam take a case in Northern Arizona where a rogue angel was seen flashing his wings at a film festival and ranting about blasphemy. They quickly realize that there might be more to this case than they’d initially thought. The angel fits all the characteristics of being a ghost—EMF readings, see-through body, air chilling ability, and all. A local man is found with his eyes burned out like he was the victim of a smiting keeps them in town after salting and burning the angel’s buried vessel in hopes of dispelling his ghost. Between all of this, Dean is finding it hard to keep his feelings for Cas under wraps. Especially when everywhere he looks and everyone he talks to reminds him of how much energy he’s spent hiding his sexuality from his family over the years. Will watching the ghost angel’s grieving best friend mourn the loss of the angel he’d loved spur Dean into confessing his own feelings before it’s too late? Will an angel from Cas's past be able to succeed where Ishim failed? Who the hell has Sam been texting? Will someone please tell Mary what the hell is going on with her sons? Will any of Team Free Will learn to use their damn words?

❤ Hands On Me E · 2,300 Words Bi!Dean · Masturbation · Car Sex · Voyeurism

Dean just finished working a case by himself and was on his way to meet Sam and Eileen a few states away when he pulled over for the night. All Dean wanted was to grab a few hours of sleep in Baby before he had to leave again. His wandering mind had other plans.

This Feeling I Can’t Change G · 2,400 Words Hurt/Comfort · Pining · Season 9 · Graceless Cas · Canon Typical Not Getting Together Moments

Set during season 9 with graceless!Cas and hurt!Dean. An almost first kiss, some pining and feelings.

Cobbled Together Lifetime G · 1,500 Words Angst · Bittersweet · Winchester Family Feels

Mary finds a photo album in the bunker that documents her sons's lives in pictures.

The Mantra G · 3,100 Words 12x12 Coda · Hurt/Comfort · Fluff and Angst · First Kiss · Platonic Bed Sharing and Cuddling

Following the events of 12.12, Dean wakes up from a nightmare shouting Cas's name. Which works out well, since Cas can't sleep or relax either after everything that went on. Dean introduces Cas to some of the healthier coping mechanisms he knows.

#my spn fanfic #destiel #profoundnet

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anearthstruckalien · 6 years ago

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So I wrote another dialogue-based writing thing and it features Giegue and Ninten (for the second time in total on this blog pfffft). But, this time it’s more recent as opposed to further in the past of this blog’s timeline. It’s all under the cut.

Giegue: [Teleports into Ninten’s room and intently fixes his dark gaze upon the individual in question whom appears to be fast asleep; it was just past midnight after all. And perhaps his timing could be a little better, but this was important and could not wait. Matters of safety could not wait until after a specific action or actions were taken, the possibility of another one of them coming here (and thinking about it) cemented that. However, he doesn’t quite speak yet because his attention is immediately drawn to what facial similarities between Maria and the other persisted over the past decade.]

Ninten: [Shuffles around in his sleep—suddenly uncomfortable as if he can sense the distinctly unnatural (and rather unforgettable) presence of his adoptive alien relative—in a rather restless way.]

Giegue: [Vaguely blinks at the motion itself. That’s right. Enough of staring. It’s time to get to his main reason for being here so that he may return to advancing his own goals. He narrows a dark blue void and starts to concentrate on psionic efforts intended to fully wake the other up…]

Ninten: [Squints a bit tiredly as if caught between straining to see in the darkness of his room and trying to convince himself that what he is seeing is real before a rather groggy inquiry is voiced.]

Uncle Gie.. –uncle Giegue…? S’that you… –?

[Then, just as quickly as he voiced his inquiries, something seems to jolt him to full consciousness and before Giegue can answer, Ninten speaks once again.]

No. Wait… –better question: what the heck are you doing in my room in the middle of the night–?

Giegue: I am here to communicate some rather… –important information to you.

[Pale hands clasp one another anxiously behind his back. Yes. This is very important. That is why his message must not only be informative, but effective as well in achieving the desired outcomes… without dragging Ninten (or any other members of that family; innocent humans in general even) into all of this.]

Are you willing to listen to my message… –?

Ninten: [Lazily runs a hand through haphazardly arranged dark hair and squints again in a futile attempt to see any better through the darkness. Damn sight limitations. Turning on the lights was also an option, but if this was as discreet as it sounded like it had to be, that might defeat the purpose of what his uncle set out to accomplish here.]

Okay. This is a super-weird way of going about it but–…[A pause before a slightly resigned sigh follows as the dark-haired boy stops trying to see any better and (for once) rather concedes to his fate instead.]…yeah, I’ll bite. It can’t be any weirder than the lamp and the dolls that one time. What’s on your mind uncle?

Giegue: [Frowns a little at the expression ‘bite’ but also notes that Ninten is making no motions to carry out the promised action. Hm. Perhaps it is a human expression of interest or agreement or both? He does not know… nor does he care enough to bother with thinking much more on such a comparatively trivial matter. Delivering his message is what matters. Ensuring the other’s safety by entrusting him with this knowledge is what matters. And so, that is what he will proceed with doing.]

There is another member of my species present on Earth. But, they are not of this universe.They have traveled to this one from another… and are currently stranded on Earth because I have destroyed their only means of returning back to their universe.

Ninten: [Actually falls right out of bed simply because he had attempted to get out of it far too haphazardly and recklessly in a characteristic show of his innate quality to take action as quickly as is possible, odds of success be damned. But, even the slight fall doesn’t stop him from blurting out what’s come to the forefront of his mind almost immediately.]

What?! Why? What the heck do those creeps want now!?!

Giegue: Nothing with this universe’s Earth if that is your primary concern. Their petty goals no longer have anything to do with me whether it be within this universe or another.

[He says rather firmly as if scolding the other for making such an audacious inquiry at all to begin with. Then a pause. And he continues with conveying what he knows in a deceptively flat and neutral way; fortunately nothing about his external demeanor easily betrays how anxious this is truly making him.]

Based off the information that was extracted from them, the ‘alien’ was tasked with the mission of capturing me. Or if capture did not prove to be a viable option?... then termination was a likely alternative to it.

[He clasps his hands even more tightly for a moment behind his back, before releasing the pressure a second later. He can do this. He must do this. He has done far more difficult matters than this and though the implications of this are still in the air, he will handle them if the time should ever come for such things to become an unfortunate reality. The biggest threat in all of this is none other than Giegue himself if his stability should slip up enough. That is why he must remain as calm and rational about this as is possible; allowing for fear to make its way through will only make everything worse. A deep inhalation of breath.]

It is connected to the events of the second invasion of Earth. My second attempt at it. The magnitude to which my power had grown at the time… and the way it presently is now… have caught the attention of others it seems...

[He looks down for a moment. Then exhales almost exasperatedly. Of course. This is yet another consequence of his own actions. But, it is how it is and as the cause of all this, he must accordingly be the one to address it. No one else should have to deal with this mess.]

But, you need not concern yourself with this. I will handle it.

Ninten: [Looks like he’s on the verge of protesting, but just manages to hold himself back. Protesting or freaking out any more isn’t going to helpful in this situation. If anything, it’ll only make Giegue even more nervous than he already is beyond that deadpan demeanor and just complicate things. Again. He wants to do something to assist, but that’s a matter for later. He should first try and see what he can find out about how things look now.]

… … …

Ninten: [Gets up off the floor and takes a step forward. Okay. He’s got this. This isn’t too different from how things were before except that now? his uncle is on the right side of the conflict. Or potential conflict. It’s really difficult to tell at this point.]

So… –how do things look now? Uh with the alien that’s here on Earth that is? The other stuff is pretty important too, but I think that it’s important to start with that.

Giegue: [Effectively calms himself back down even more and glances directly at Ninten anew.]

The current state of the situation is acceptable. I have effectively neutralized all immediate danger… and reached a cooperative relationship with them.

[The rigidity in his posture eases up a little and as he proceeds with elaborating on the details underlying all of this, the pale alien seems to enter an even greater state of internal peace. After all, the situation could be worse. Bad as the possibility (bordering on certainty) is about any more of them coming over here—never mind how concerning the idea of someone with the title ‘leader’ truly is—it is good that the one that is here seems to have no intentions of causing trouble here.]

They are on Earth, but I do not think that they will do anything to it. They were never here for the Earth to begin with… and seem to value their ‘freedom’ enough to avoid any activities which may otherwise jeopardize it.

Ninten: [Scratches his head intriguedly before narrowing his eyes.]So the alien is uh… on the loose then… –?

Giegue: I suppose so. They are no more ‘on the loose’ than myself.

Ninten: [Nods quickly in understanding. Okay. Maybe that wouldn’t have been his choice for someone that wasn’t some alien relative of his, but that didn’t mean that it was a bad one. No matter how tense things may be with aliens in general, he’s got to remain open-minded for his uncle’s sake. And so, he ponders over the matter for a bit longer before responding.]

I trust your judgement on this uncle. If you say that everything is fine… then I’ll take your word on it…

… –But, I still wanna see them for myself. Maybe even get talk to them just to make sure that everything is good with this whole [He makes a couple of semi-erratic hand gestures as if emphasizing or clarifying a point that he can’t quite get across as nicely as he’d like to.] alien situation thing?

Giegue: [Stiffens before rather rigidly shaking his head and offering an equally rigid retort.] Absolutely not.

Ninten: [Immediately frowns at that. There it is again. This is just like when he had gone to see how things were back on Mt. Itoi a few months ago.]

But you said–

Giegue: [Sticks a hand out (still) rigidly and unabashedly proceeds with interrupting Ninten mid-sentence in a rather strict and controlled way, as if he’s just barely containing how anxious this is making him again and how imperative it is that his mother’s family stays safe during this.]

I am aware of the contents in my message. This does not mean that you should ever approach such a creature. At all. Let alone interact with it.

[He pauses and places his hand down and back by its respective side.]

This is for your own good. You must understand this Ninten.

Ninten: [Now he’s upset and it shows from the way that his hands curl into fists to the clenching of his jaw as he tries not to get too upset despite it all. Part of this is admittedly because it’s always been a dream of his to meet aliens that weren’t totally hostile (or his relatives for that matter) BUT a far bigger part of this is because he’s being denied a chance to his part for the Earth, even if it is as seemingly harmless as just talking to confirm everything for himself. To just do something so that his adoptive family member isn’t stuck doing everything alone. A heavy sigh.]

Yeah, I do get it uncle –but you can’t just expect me to sit on my ass and do nothing while you’re the one taking all the risks! That’s not fair!

This is my home –the Earth is my home and I wanna do at least this much. If they aren’t out to get us or the Earth or anything, then there shouldn’t even be a risk anyways right?

Come on. Don’t be such a wet blanket. It’s just one short conversation–

Giegue: [He takes a step forward and straightens himself out to his full height of just a little over 10 feet and stares down the other in a rather intimidating way. Enough is enough. He cannot let this happen, he cannot fail her (his adoptive human mother) again.]

No. That is a disaster waiting to occur.

Ninten: [Takes a step forward as well and looks him straight in the eye through the darkness, unhesitatingly and utterly unyielding just like he had done so a decade ago.]

Why? What the heck do you think is gonna happen huh? Why is this such a big deal if you’ve already done all the hard parts of solving that whole situation?

Giegue: [Pale hands curl into tense fists at his sides, but this time the motion does not release itself. No. This time it remains even as a rather stiff response comes. He is decidedly anxious and frustrated all at once it seems.]

Because they are closely connected to the species leader in that universe. And it is entirely possible that this leader may come here to retrieve them… and more.

Ninten: [Draws back, but only a little. Not enough to indicate backing down any time soon, but certainly enough to denote a limited kind of understanding and openness to hear the rest of this out.]

… … …

Giegue: My apologies. I should have been more direct earlier. My transmission of this information was… faulty, but nonetheless my point remains.

This connection makes them dangerous and regardless of how cooperative they are being, that alone also makes them utterly untrustworthy.

[An exasperated sigh. He’s already feeling drained by all of this and this isn’t even the hardest part. But, nonetheless he assertively presses onwards.]

Do not be a fool, Ninten. There is no need to involve yourself when I… have everything under control.

Ninten: [There’s so much that he can say and so many things that he can do in response… but in what may perhaps be an indication of having matured over the past decade, he exercises some self-restraint and does none of those things. Not yet anyways. He crosses his arms over his chest and plops back down onto his bed with a light thud.]

What can I do then… –? What am I supposed to do if I can’t directly get involved…?

Giegue: I would say ‘nothing’… but I suppose that… I can understand that you are not that kind of person…

[And that is something that they share in common, reluctant as Giegue himself is to admit it. At the very least, he can appreciate that Ninten seems to have given up on pushing this whole thing. Which is important because if genuine, then it’s one less thing to concern himself with. His overall posture eases up once again and there’s only a split-second of silence before he gives an answer; it’s the least that he could do for the other in light of everything.]

The best course of action that you may take is… to remain cautious… and ensure your own safety along with that of your family’s. Can you comprehend this… –?

Ninten: [He thinks for a moment. And then another. And then yet another… only to reluctantly concede to this after all. It’s not nearly as involved as he likes to get when it comes to important things like these, but it’ll have to do. Ninten gets the distinct feeling that there’s a lot more that he doesn’t know about this entire situation and much as he might want to act, it might end up making everything worse because of that. No one needs that.]

Ugh –yeah. Fine. I can do that. But only if you’re really really sure that there isn’t anything else…

Giegue: [A swift nod confirming his own answer while just a hint of relief washes over him.]

I am certain of it. Thank-you for being reasonable about this.

[He turns away from the other and hesitates for a moment before offering one last farewell and teleporting out as swiftly as he had come.]

Goodbye… Ninten. Stay safe.

#.writingpost #.giegue #.ninten #.timeline: interuniversal interference

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tipsycad147 · 5 years ago

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Will-o’-the-Wisp

By shirleytwofeathers

Will-o’-the-Wisp is the most common English designation for a family of fairy-beings characterised by their fiery appearance and their tendency to lead nighttime wayfarers astray. The term wisp refers to a twist of straw, used as a torch. Other names for these apparitions include:

Hobby-Lantern

Jack-o’-Lantern

Jenny-Burnt-Tale

Kitty-Candlestick

Peg-a-Lantern

Ignis Fatuus

The Lambent Flame

A Will-o’-the-wisp is a phantom light that hovers in the wilderness, luring travellers away from the beaten path. Most of these lights haunt the moors and bogs of England, but they have been reported all over the world, under various names.

Characteristics and Qualities

Will-o’-the-wisps are very simple apparitions. They appear as balls of light, sometimes so bright that they hurt your eyes and other times so dim that you have to squint to see them. They usually have a blue-ish gleam to them, although red has also been reported.

In some rare sightings, a dark figure has been seen carrying the light, as if it was a torch or a lantern. Despite carrying a light, the figure is always too dark to be described in detail.

A light floating in the darkness might seem innocent, even friendly, but don’t be deceived. These attractive lights are almost always malevolent. They lead travellers onto dangerous land, perhaps a deep hole in a bog or a kingdom ruled by vicious fairies.

Aside from their ability to dazzle and tantalise travellers, Will-o’-the-wisps are also powerful omens. They appear to be able to predict the future, appearing to people before their deaths or flocking to the sight of a tragedy before it takes place. They might also reveal the place where a thief or a fairy has buried golden treasure.

Stories of Will-o’-the-wisps

“A wand’ring fire Compact of unctuous Vapour, which the Night Condenses, and the Cold environs round, Kindled through Agitation to a flame, Which oft, they say, some Evil Spirit attends, Hovering and blazing with delusive Light, Misleads th’ amaz’d Night-Wand’rer from his way To bogs and mires, and oft through Pond or Pool, There swallow’d up and lost, from succour far.”

~Milton

The Original Will O’ the Wisp

The classic Will-o’-the-wisp is carried by a blacksmith named Will. Will was such a troublemaker that, when he died and went to heaven, he was sent back by Saint Peter, who told him to reform during his second life. Unfortunately, Will’s second life was even more monstrous than his first, so Saint Peter cursed him to roam the earth forever. The devil, impressed by Will’s evildoing, gave him a coal to warm himself on the cold earth nights. Instead, Will decided to use the coal to make a torch and lure innocent travellers into danger.

The Teine Biorach

The will o’ the wisp (called in Gaelic Teine biorach = sharp fire) is said to be of quite modern appearance, at least in South Uist. It was first seen, it is said, in 1812, and is the haunting spirit of a young girl from Benbecula, who frequented the machair, or sandy plain beside the sea, in search of the galium verum, used in the dyeing of the local cloth or tweed.

Her sin was that of seeking to get an undue share of a product which should have been equally divided for the common good, and which has at all times to be husbanded as one of the plants which bind the sandy soil together where it has been redeemed from the sea.

A special interest of this story is that it tells against the common Hebridean tradition of a cold hell, a tradition one soon learns to accept in South Uist, the land of cold mist and sweeping winds, and damp, and drafts, and rain, where even the nether regions with a fire in them have a suggestion of comfort. Hell is therefore discouragingly known as “the place of the wind of the cold passages, or the wind of the cold channels.”

A Mischievous Gnome

“How Will a’ Wisp misleads night-faring Clowns, O’er Hills, and sinking Bogs, and pathless Downs.” ~Gay

The will-o’-the-wisp is a mischievous gnome who leads people astray at nighttime or in the fog, causing them to loose their way and end up in a swamp. He does this foremost with inquisitive people who purposely follow him. The best way to avoid him or to render him harmless is to stay away from the footpaths where he has power, and always to keep one foot in a wagon rut. He helps some people who have lost their way by leading them home, if they speak to him kindly and offer him a generous payment.

Once a person who had lost his way offered him two silver groschens if he would lead him home safely. The will-o’-the-wisp agreed, and finally they arrived at the lost man’s house. Happy that he was no longer in need of help, he thanked his guide; but instead of the promised payment, he gave him only a small copper coin. The will-o’-the-wisp accepted it, then asked if he could now find his way home by himself.

He answered, “Yes! I can already see my open front door.” But stepping toward it, he fell into some water, for everything he had seen had been only an illusion.

The will-o’-the-wisp takes special delight in tormenting drunks making their way homeward from a fair or an evening of drinking. He leads them astray, and when in their drunkenness they can go no further, preferring instead to sleep off their binge out of doors, then he burns them on the soles of their feet.

In some regions the people believe that will-o’-the-wisps are the souls of children who died without being baptised. They are seen especially atop graveyard walls. They disappear when one throws a handful of graveyard soil at them.

Baptising The Will-o’-the-Wisps

Late one evening a man was walking across a field, returning to Gandshoven from Molenbeek. Suddenly three will-o’-the-wisps came running toward him. Because this good man was accustomed to baptising such, in order to redeem all three, he said, “I baptise you all in the name of the father and the son and the holy ghost.”

But then it did not go well for him, for in the same instant he saw that he was surrounded by more than a thousand will-o’-the-wisps, all wanting to be baptised. He baptised unceasingly, but ever more of them approached him, and this did not end until the cock crowed. Thus the man had to spend the entire night in the field.

Will-o’-the-Wisps with Long Legs

A peasant from Hermsdorf, Germany was going home late one evening when he saw a will-o’-the-wisp. Being of a daring nature, he approached it. Without hesitating, the will-o’-the-wisp fled, and the peasant quickly followed after him.

Thick on his heels, he saw that it had tremendously long legs, and that its head consisted of tips of glowing fire. However, it instantly disappeared, and the peasant was barely able to find his way home in the dark.

Will-o’-the-Wisps Banned with a Curse

In the vicinity of Storkow a preacher was driving home late one evening with his servant. Arriving at a certain place they saw a will-o’-the-wisp approaching them. It hopped about merrily in front of the horses. Soon there were more of them, and finally there were so many of them that the horses took fright and would not continue onward.

The pastor became frightened as well, and therefore he began to pray aloud, but the more he prayed, the more of them came.

Finally the servant said, “No. Stop that. You’re not making them go away. I’ll get rid of them!” With that he shouted, “Go away, in the devil’s name!” and they immediately disappeared.

The Godorf The Will-o’-the-Wisp

The marshy peninsula which extends between Godorf and Rodenkirchen (in Germany) is said to be the favourite resort of the sprite known all along the Rhine as the Herwisch, and in England as the will-o’-the-wisp. This mischievous little creature is said to delight in leading unsuspecting travellers astray, and in playing all manner of pranks, but, like most practical jokers, he is quick to resent any attempt to make fun of him.

One day a maiden, passing across this stretch of ground at nightfall, began to sing all the songs she knew, to beguile the loneliness of the way and inspire her with courage. Having soon come to the end of her scanty repertoire, she carelessly sang a mocking ditty about the Herwisch, who, enraged at her impudence, came rushing toward her threateningly brandishing his tiny lantern.

With a cry of terror, the girl began to run, closely pursued by the sprite, who, in punishment for her derisive song, napped his wings in her face and frightened her so badly that she became an idiot.

Since then, the young people of Germany have never dared to sing the mocking refrain, and carefully avoid mentioning the Herwisch’s name after nightfall, lest they should in some way arouse his anger.

Related Creatures

In the Britain and Ireland alone, there are dozens of variations of the Will-o’-the-wisp. The most famous are the “Jack-o’-Lantern,” “Peg-a’-Lantern,” “Joan the Wad,” “Jenny with the Lantern,” “Hobbedy’s Lantern”, “Hinky Punk,” and “Spunkies.” They are, for the most part, believed to be carried by souls barred from heaven and hell or by devious fairy-folk.

In the Netherlands, the “Irrbloss,” “Iiekko,” and “Iygtemand” are said to be the souls of un-Baptised children, who try to lead travellers to water, where they can be Baptised. They might also be lights guarding buried treasure, which can only be found using a dead man’s hand or after eating seeds from a magical fern.

In Asia, the “aleya” and the “chir batti” are used by dead souls to mark the place where they died. In other places, goblins, pixies, witches, un-Baptised children, and even the devil are blamed for carrying these dangerous lights.

In Australia, “min min” lights follow travellers once they are spotted. If the traveller turns and tries to follow the light, however, they will never be seen again.

In South America, the “luz mala” and “la candileja” are evil spirits who carry ghost lights after death.

In the United States, ghost hunters prize any photo which has captured an “orb,” a ball of coloured light which is believed to reveal the presence of a dead soul in the room. In the swampland of Louisiana, a phantom light called “fifollet” represents dark souls who have been sent back from heaven to do penance on earth.

The Lambent Flame

There was in every hollow A hundred wrymouthed wisps. —Dafydd ap Gwilym, 1340

The Will-o’-the-wisp has been recorded as flickering over marshy ground since at least the middle ages, as the quote above testifies. In the centuries that followed, dozens of antiquaries have recorded anecdotes and personal accounts of the ignis fatuus, with even Sir Isaac Newton mentioning them in his 1704 opus Opticks.

The lights have also been incorporated into modern literature, e.g. Dracula, and have even had a children’s television show named after them. The most commonly cited explanation for them is that they’re the product of ignited marsh gas: most likely slowly leaking methane whose ignition is triggered by phosphene (also called phosphine or phosphorus hydride).

Historical and contemporary accounts of these lights, however, often fly in the face of this explanation given that the lights are often seen to move, and to not emit heat.

Some of their synonyms reveal what cultures thought about them: “treasure lights”, of Danish origin, suggests that they are the marking places of treasure; “corpse candles” suggests that they’re the souls of the departed; “fairy lights”, which now mean quite a different thing, suggest that they’re the work of (or indeed are) fairies.

The phenomenon is also inextricably linked with the leading astray of weary travellers into mires. The light was taken to be a lantern or a torch carried by a mischievous spirit, as is indeed reflected in the name Will-o’-the-wisp itself, which has an etymology of “William of the wisp [of lighted hay]”. The man of the lantern was said to play tricks on people, as in the case of the gentleman who was knocked off his horse by the Lantern Man of Horning, Norfolk in the 18th century*.

As quoted by Wilkie (1996), in 1778 William Pryce wrote in Mineralogia Cornubiensis that tinners would use anomalous light forms to find veins of tin: “another way of finding veins […] is by igneous appearances of fiery coruscations. The Tinners generally compare these effluvia to blazing stars.”

The westcountry seems to have held the phenomenon in generally high regard, in fact, for Dr. Jonathan Couch (or his son, Thomas Quiller-Couch) quotes a poem* in his History of Polperro that is reminiscent of the practice of using foxfire to guide one back home through forest:

Jack o’ the lantern! Joan the wad, Who tickled the maid and made her mad; Light me home, the weather’s bad.

Explanations of the Myth

Although they may not be trapped in lanterns held by the devil or hover over sunken fairy gold, Will-o’-the-wisps are a very real phenomenon. These mysterious lights do exist, and for a long time, they could only be explained through superstition.

Today, science has a few explanations (which don’t involve ghosts, devils, witches, or fairies) for the lights.

Some scientists believe that the light is produced by a type of bioluminescent fungus or algae that grows in marshy areas. Just like fireflies or angler fish, these plants could undergo a unique chemical process to produce light.

Still more scientists claim that a mixture of gases is responsible for the lights. In marshes, plant material often sinks underwater before it can decompose. In the water, the material undergoes an unusual type of decomposition, which releases methane, carbon dioxide, nitrogen, and phosphines into the air. Methane is a highly flammable gas, and phosphines have been known to spontaneously combust when they come into contact with air. Combine these two chemicals, and you could easily produce a burning ball of light hovering above a marsh.

Sources:

Mythology

Pitt.edu

In A Midst

https://shirleytwofeathers.com/The_Blog/powers-that-be/will-o-the-wisp/

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