poison-in-my-pen
Poisoned Pen
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A Piece of Mine
A/N: After watching S10: Epi 21 and then rewatching S10: Epi 4. A thought came to me, how would Dante's girlfriend react to seeing his unbounded rage?
The car ride home was quiet. I gazed at the images out of the passenger side window that was blurred by the rain. Was I overreacting? I’ve never seen him enraged like this before and it unleashed a hurricane in my head that he doesn’t know about, whose name I haven’t thought about until this moment. Dante’s stoicism, his gentle voice, his shyness, his vulnerability, his pensive stares, it all endeared me to him. But was all of that a facade to counter the rage that lived beneath the surface of his being? Was my judgment clouded because of it? I should've seen it, why didn't I see it? I’ve been here before, but this was not then, Dante is the complete opposite of him, or is he?
"Babe, let me explain." His voice pulled me from my melancholy reverie. He reached out and rested his hand on my knee.
I instinctively pushed his hand away, “don’t touch me.”
The acid in my voice caught us both off guard, I felt him stiffen next to me and my anger rushed forth like a tsunami wave because how dare he flinch when I just saw him bring a man twice his size down to his knees, hands in prayer as if Dante was his God begging for mercy. How dare he!
“Everything was a lie.”
“I never lied to you.”
“How did I miss this? How could I have been so stupid?”
“Babe, please.”
“You never get angry, you don’t raise your voice, not once when most people react, you just…I shrugged and trailed off. “How can someone as shy as you have this level of rage inside of them?”
He pointed at himself, “I never said I was shy, you assumed that because of my quiet nature. I’m a guy, all guys have different levels of aggression, it all comes down to how you choose to deal with that pent up anger. The gym, boxing is the way I release most of that energy and you are never around to see it, so I understand why you’re reacting like this.”
I scoffed, “you can’t possibly understand how I feel. Have you ever killed anyone with your bare hands?”
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, “anyone can kill another with their bare hands.”
“I’m not talking about anyone, Dante, I’m talking about you? Have you killed a man with your bare hands?”
He looked at his hands for a beat, his eyes flashed over to me piercing my own before they turned back to the road. His expressive eyes spoke sentences, but his lips replied with one word. “No.”
“But you could?”
“Any cop can, anyone in law enforcement can, man or woman.”
“Again with the deflecting.”
I gazed out the window watching his reflection as the car stopped and he turned off the engine. He closed his eyes and rolled his neck to the right, the way he does when he becomes exasperated, then to his left; he opened his eyes and exhaled. He turned to me and unhooked my seatbelt. I opened the car door, stepping out before he had the chance to open his door and get to my door. He hated when I opened my own door and I slammed it shut knowing it would add to his exasperation that was building.
I didn’t have the key, so I waited as he opened the door to our apartment. I stepped in front of him, kicked off my shoes and continued down the hall, feeling his presence behind me as he followed me into the bedroom.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
I had my back to him, he spun me around and took a step forward into my personal space and before my brain could relay the action to my body, he spoke, coolly “don’t move.” With his dark eyes fixed on my face, I felt the energy in the air shift as the heat from his body coalesced with the cold chill that escaped my core and scraped across my spine.
I could taste the peppermint scent emitting from his lips, I felt myself sway hypnotically, one kiss would end this argument.
“Are you afraid of me?” My breath hitched, my internal goddess hissed, yesssss. I shook my head. His lips brushed against my ear and I shivered, “I need to hear you say it. Remember, use your words.”
Those three words transported me to another time, our first time where he held me under a similar trance that I was unprepared for, where my body no longer belonged to me, but to him.
I found my words hidden behind my ribcage. “No.”
“No, what?”
The air became thick.
My body hummed.
“No, I’m not afraid of you.”
“Good.” He wrapped his hand around my neck and his thumb pressed lightly against my jugular, feeling my pulse hammer jacking against the pad of his thumb. “Yes, I can kill a man with my bare hands. When I was younger, I had this rage within me, an anger that made me lash out at any and everyone who looked at me the wrong way. Growing up the way I did, you never knew who would do you harm, so I had my guard up all the time and then I went to juvie.” He nudged my chin with his hand, “look at me.” I gazed at him, the green edges of his hazel eyes softened, “the rage you say you see is not the same rage that had a hold on me then. What you saw was rage controlled, I control it, it doesn’t control me. My psych eval says I’m nonreactive, which is true for the most part. There are situations like the one you saw tonight where I come close to the edge, but I will never step over. Now if someone did something to you or my mama,” he shrugs, “then who knows.” He dropped his hand to his side, “but, these are not the hands of a killer, these are the hands of your Danty, I’m the same man you met when you clumsily fell into my arms.”
I laughed and he laughed as we both remembered that moment, the mood in the air shifted, the energy was still charged but it swung to the opposite direction.
This time I reached for him first, lifting his shirt and pulling the buckle to his belt. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”
His fingers trailed upwards under my dress, pulling my panties down to my ankle, he knelt down on his knees and lifted my leg over his shoulder, tossing my underwear across the room. He kissed my thigh, the warmth filled my apex. “Am I forgiven?”
I nodded. My eyes closed giving in to the sensation of his stubble against my inner thigh, his kisses stopped and my eyes flew open to find him staring up at me, “use your words.”
“Yes, you are forgiven.” I said aloud.
He didn't have to speak his hazel eyes with the green edges became liquid gold, his fingers pushed against my opening and my warmth trickled onto his fingers. I moaned, grabbing his head. He lifted me up onto the edge of our bed, while he remained kneeled on the floor, his hands firmly pinned my wrists to my side, while his head was bowed at my altar.
“Dante, I screamed.
I could feel him smiling and I heard his voice in my head before he spoke.
“Use your words, baby.”
Post note: Dante's character is a fun one to explore. Not guaranteed that I'll write more fics, but this was fun to write....
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Urge to write Kang fanfics.
Anyone interested in reading them?
#poisoned pen#poison in my pen#poison in my veins#poisoned ink#fantasy fiction#marvel fanfiction#fan fiction#avengers fanfiction#poisoned veins#fanfic#marvel fandom#kang the conqueror#Kang the conqueror fan fic#Kang the conqueror fanfiction#nathaniel richards#Nathaniel richards fan fic#Nathaniel richards fanfiction
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your work is simply magical! thank you for sharing with us ❤❤❤
Thank you for the kind words! ♥️
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Hi! A lot of ur works in ur reagan and Marshall masterlist wont open for me! Btw obsessed with these two!! Xx
Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I loved writing about these two, I was obsessed with them too!! Does this link work for you? I went through each link and they should be working now.
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Opaline
A/N: You are at a party and Chris sits across from you and strikes up a conversation.
"I'm not your type."
"How do you know that?"
I gazed into his clear blue eyes that watched me curiously.
I smiled and looked away. "Just so you don't waste my time and I yours."
He laughed. "You have your mind made up about me?"
"I don't know you enough to have an opinion."
"But you have a preconceived notion."
"Is that a question or a statement?” He smiled. “You're an actor, a famous one at that and that lifestyle comes with a high price and checked baggage as you can see from the eyes that are currently watching us.”
“And you’re the opposite of that, opposites do attract.”
“Not in this case, no. I like my privacy and obscurity.”
“And I like your honesty and mystery.” He quipped.
“You're charming, I give you that, but it would be better used on someone else who would happily fall, sit, crawl, grovel, drool, faint and worship at your feet. I have no desire to be the former or the latter.”
His laugh was boisterous, piquing the interest of the eyes that were watching us.
"You're a comedian."
"Your modern day Barnum Bailey." I say deadpan, finishing my sparkling water.
"What are you drinking?"
"Sparkling water."
"All the alcohol in this place and of course you chose sparkling water."
I gazed into playful blue, "lemme guess you have a preconceived notion about my drink preference?"
He lifted his beer to his lips and smirked, swallowing the dark liquid. "No judgement."
"Ahh, well I guess you have your mind made up about me?"
He looks into my eyes. "Yes, I have. I want to take you out to dinner."
It was my turn to laugh. "Rain check."
"That's not a no."
My friend approached, "saved by the bell." I quipped.
"We're heading out." She looked from me to him and back to me trying and failing to hide her smile. "Unless you're not ready."
"I'm ready." I stood. "Let's go." I turned to him. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Mr. Preconceived notion."
I turned to walk away and I felt a warmth on my wrist. He stood then leaned into me and whispered in my ear. "I will be collecting on that rain check very soon, Miss, Not my type."
He released my wrist and I looked up at him and we peered at each other silently. I broke eye contact first and turned and walked away without a second glance.
{end?}
Post Note: I'm not sure if I should leave this as a one shot or if I should write a part 2, where they go to dinner.
Chris' tag list: @patzammit
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Bedtime Musings 2
I gazed at him, a few minutes passed before I answered. “Before I answer, let me ask you a question.”
“You can't ask a question with a question.”
“Yes, I can if it gives clarity into how I answer your question.
“Touche.” He leans over and kisses me on the forehead. “I keep you around for your big beautiful, juicy...brain.”
I slapped his arm, “be serious.”
“I am! Your brain is so juicy I could eat it up. “
“Why are you like this?”
He laughs, “continue with your question Miss Lady before this turns into something triple x.”
“Are you happy with the current state of your life?”
“Yes, I am. 100% satisfied.”
“And happy?”
“And 100% happy.”
“Even with the press, the never-ending gossip and rumor-mill, and your lack of privacy, you are 100% happy and satisfied.”
He tilts his head and nods, “the good will always outweigh the bad. There are a lot of things that I do and that we do that the world isn't privy to.”
“Yes, agreed. Which leads me to your question, would I want to live in obscurity with you Mr. Evans, hypothetically speaking of course.” I looked over at him. “No, I wouldn't because it wouldn't be necessary given the things we are currently able to do that isn't front page news.”
“You missed the point of the life of obscurity. That was contingent upon if my wife was struggling with living such a public life and being scrutinized for everything that she does.”
I sat up, “no, no, no, that's not what you said.”
“That's what I said.”
“Christopher, you said if you were to wake up one day and say fuck it I'm done being famous and want to live under the radar. This was completely separate from if you see your wife struggling you would give up your fame. And why do you have to give up your fame in both scenarios?”
“Because you have given up so much to be with me. Why wouldn't I?”
“And giving up your fame is the answer? There are no other solutions? Because you said you're happy with your current life, this life of fame, so why give it up? And, and, and, if you did give it up to live this quiet life and it turns out to be something you don’t want, would you then become resentful to the woman, (i.e. me) because you gave up your life that you were satisfied with to make her (me) happy.”
He exhaled deeply, “hmm. If I did choose this quiet life and it ended up not being what I expected, would I resent my wife, do you really think it’s in my nature to be resentful towards her (i.e. you)?”
“I can’t answer that for you, Mr. Evans. I just want you to see that you don't have to give up a life you love no matter what me or any other woman who might date you might go through when dealing with the press.”
“I respect your point of view and I'm grateful for it, but now I’m questioning morally if I would be resentful if my quiet life didn’t turn out how I hoped and I can’t say no with confidence because I don’t know.” He paused thoughtfully. “I know me, I know that I would do whatever I can for the woman I love and to think I could resent her.” He trailed off, deep in thought.
I ran my fingers through his hair, “I didn’t say you intentionally would become resentful, you might not, who knows, what I do know is that you are a protector and a provider and that is an admirable quality.”
“And knowing that I am a provider and protector do you understand why it would be easy for me to give up my fame?”
Yes, I do, it means you will do whatever it takes in your power to protect even if that means suffering at your own hands.”
“But it's not suffering if I willingly say that this is what I want to do.”
“And we’ve come full circle.” I say as I fall back on the pillow and gazed up at the ceiling.
He reached behind me and turned off the lamp on the side table. He pulled the covers up over us and he turned my head, so that our nose touched. “I can see that we're not going to agree on the subject.”
“I didn’t expect us to. Also, did you just propose to me?"
He laughed, "I'm more romantic than that. If I proposed you wouldn't have to question it. Goodnight, love."
Post Note: Thank you all for your thoughtful answers, they were fun to read. I incorporated some of your answers into the story. You all seem to enjoy these conversational pieces, so there will be more musings in the future!
Bedtime Musings Taglist: @patzammit @deepintothenature @katiew1973 @kissme-hs @bellaireland1981
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Bedtime Musings
A/N: Bedtime Conversations with Chris.
“You would give all of this up?” I gestured as I climbed into bed next to him.
He turned to me and peered into my eyes, “for my family, yes I would. In a heartbeat.”
“Hmm,” I say, falling back against the pillow.
He pulled me into him, so that his head was next to my chest. “Why is that so hard to believe?” He asked. “I don’t want my kids growing up in hollywood.”
“It’s not that it’s hard to believe, you shouldn't have to give up the life you’ve built, that seems a big extreme, no?”
“I have a feeling that my wife will be someone who isn’t used to being around fame.” He eyed me and paused. “Everything I’ve done up to this point has been the stepping stones to that life. I know what being with me entails and I know that the public aspect of my life will be hard on her. As you know and have seen firsthand, parts of your privacy no longer exist because you are with me. If you were to become my fiancee/wife or any woman hypothetically speaking were to become my wife. If I see that this life is taking a toll on her I would do whatever I can to protect her and if that means giving up this public, fishbowl hollywood life, well that is a price I can pay.”
“I don’t think any woman should ask that of you.”
“She wouldn’t, we would discuss it and I would let her know that these are my plans and-.”
“And what if she doesn’t agree, and she were to say no, babe that is not necessary.”
“Then.” He paused, rolling onto his back. “Then, we’ll have a discussion about it and find a resolution.”
“Hmm.”
“Your hmm, always means you don’t agree. Okay, let me ask you this,” He turned to his side, resting his head on his arm. “I wake up tomorrow and I say, I’m done, I’m tired, I want to live a life so normal and far below the radar that it's not even a blip. I call my team and they make an announcement and then bye, bye hollywood.”
“It’s that simple? Just a phone call.”
He nods. “It is that simple and I ask you to be my wife and live this life of obscurity with me, no more press, no more anything, just us, Mrs and Mr. Evans, what would you say?”
[to be continued]
Post Note: Write your answers in the comment section. I'm curious what you would all say. Let me know!
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Sweet Alchemy
A/N: The forecast called for heavy snowfall throughout the day and into the next morning. The fridge was stocked for a month and there was no need to leave our cozy heaven.
Chris was somewhere in the house on a zoom call and I was in the lounge room sprawled out on the deep comfy couch, book on my lap, a cup of tea on the side table and the fire in the fireplace blazing.
I opened my book and read until I dozed off. When I awoke Chris' head was on my stomach and he had a hand beneath my shirt palming my boob. He wasn't asleep, he was deep in thought gazing through the fire.
I ran my fingers through his hair and he tilted his head upwards to look at me.
"Are you done for the day?" I asked.
He shook his head. His pocket buzzed and he felt around finally pulling his phone out of his pocket and silencing the alarm.
"No, I've got two more calls."
He stood and stretched. His navy cable knit lifts up showing his navel and the logo of his boxers.
I feel him watching me. "See something you like?"
"Always." I quipped.
I reached out and he took a step towards me so that I was eye level with his dark gray pants. I hooked my finger into the button of his pants and gazed up at him. There was no mistaking what I wanted.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" I asked coyly.
He bent down so that we were at eye level. I pouted. He ran the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. "Don't you start."
"I won't start anything I can't finish."
He exhaled sharply and I looked Into his eyes. He kissed me lightly at first and then I felt the ache that morphed into complete hunger. I fell backwards on the couch taking him with me feeling as he pressed his weight into me. I reached beneath his sweater raking my fingers across the sinew of muscles in his back flexing and unflexing.
His phone in his pocket buzzed against my thigh and he ignored it. His phone buzzed again and he lifted his head and paused, his phone buzzed a third time and he pulled it out of his pocket and gave me the puppy-eyed look.
"No, Chris!" I whined sitting up.
"I'm sorry babe, I have to join this call." He leaned down and kissed me on my forehead. "I'll make it up to you."
"Promise."
He tilted my head upwards and looked deep into my eyes, "have I ever started anything I couldn't finish?"
I shook my head.
"Good girl." He gave me one last deep tongue kiss and then he pulled away.
I watched as he walked out of the room, he turned and winked at me before disappearing around the corner.
I fell back on the sofa watching the crackling of the fire while sucking on the love-bite on my lower lip.
Post note: I've got a few short stories around this theme of being snowed in and enjoying each other's company.
#chris evans#chris evans imagine#chris evans one shot#chris evans fanfic#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#poisoned pen#poison in my pen#poison in my veins#poisoned ink#fantasy fiction#fan fiction#poisoned veins#poison in my ink
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The Third
Chris patted the empty space next to him on the sofa. I walked over to him popcorn in hand and sat squarely on his lap snuggling into his chest.
His brother looks on, "why do you always sit on his crotch?
I wiggled my butt and Chris groaned. "Because it is one of the two best seats in the house.
"Two, what's the second?" He asked.
I looked over at him then gazed up at Chris' full beard and cherry lips, Chris arched an eyebrow and smirked.
His brother gets up from his seat and walks out of the living room rolling his eyes, "ugh, why did I even ask."
"One of two, huh." I nod. "Maybe tonight we can make it three."
I turned to face him, "what's the third?"
Lust immediately fills and darkens his eyes, causing me to shiver. He runs his finger across the hem of my shorts and slowly sticks his hand down and into my underwear.
I inhaled sharply.
"The Third." He confirms, pecking me on the lips.
Footsteps approach and he pulls his hand out of my shorts and pats me lightly on the butt. His brother comes back into the living room with snacks and throws a packet of gummy worms at Chris. I slid off his lap and cuddled next to him gazing down at his bulging sweatpants.
He gazes over at me and I looked up at him. His brother hits play and the movie starts.
END.
Post Note: Let me know if you like one shots like this. I've got a bunch of cutesy stories like this lined up.
Also, can you share links of any blogs with flirty Chris Evans gifs. You can send them through the comments or DM.
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Body
A/N: Bucky meets variant Winter Soldier
James and I rang in the new year in the most cliched couple moment you can think of. It was a tough year for James, it was a bit shaky when he started seeing a therapist, but over the past couple of months there has been a noticeable change within him. He smiles more. the distant look he once had in his eyes is no more, he’s present and happy. We’re happy.
I’m happy that we can finally sleep in the same bed again without me fearing that he’ll wake up from one of his thrashing nightmares thinking he’s still the winter soldier and try to strangle me. He sometimes wakes up in a cold sweat, but I’ll take that over the former.
So, tonight New Year’s Eve was spent in the throes of each other’s bodies.
-
“Let go, dollface.” The inaudible cheers and the burst from the fireworks enlivened the neighborhood as he leavened my insides. “That’s it baby girl.”
I unclenched, riding the waves of pleasure. “J-jamessss.” My head lolls to the side and he gently wrapped his fingers around my neck, turning my head to face him. His kiss commanded the full use of my tongue, his mouth was my salve, healing my body’s needs.
“Hmm.” He smiles against my lips. “You’re close, so close.”
I nod. “I’m going to…”
“I know, my love.”
My orgasm rocketed out of me in unison with the massive fireworks explosion followed by a red flash of light. The figure materialized. I gazed up into the familiar eyes that were dipped in liquid moonlight. I closed my eyes. “Jamesss,” screamed out, arching my back and feeling his warmth deep inside.
The orgasmic wave had me under its sway. My eyes were glazed and I was satiated from the tingle in my scalp to the tremor in my toes. I smiled up at him as he stood at the foot of the bed staring at me, the bright red star on his arm reflected in the fireworks light and I lifted my hand extending it towards him as the orgasmic sleep dragged me into unconsciousness.
-
Bucky’s thoughts
Bucky knew something was wrong, he sensed it, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was, he scanned the room and not seeing anything amiss, he focused his attention on his beautiful and naked girlfriend riding him. Her head lolls to the side and he gently wraps his fingers around her neck, and she looks at him eagerly, her eyes dilated and her insides at his mercy. He kissed her deeply and hungrily because he knew that she didn’t need to be conscious for what was about to happen.
He flipped her over, so that she was on all fours, he hooked her legs behind his knees and sat back holding her in place. He held her waist and stroked her deeply, filling her to the brim with each thrust. He felt her trying to free her legs, but there was no escaping her orgasm that was going to be hard and intense. In this position a few deep strokes is all that it will take to knock her out for the next 8hrs.
He groaned as her walls tightened around him. “Let go, dollface.”
The fireworks exploded and she screamed my name, the inflection of my name spilling out of her lovely mouth is enough for me to delay her orgasm, but, next time, definitely next time. I groaned and released deep into her.
The red light flashed and Bucky felt the hairs on his neck standing on edge as he gazed at the reflection of his former self. The stitching of his newly repaired mind coming undone.
Hollow eyes and a blank mind gazed back at him.
He knew that look.
Identify the target and kill.
He momentarily forgot she was there. She looked up at the killer and extended her hand towards him, he broke our gazes and looked at her, but my eyes haven’t left him. Her body relaxes as she succumbs to the deep orgasmic sleep.
I moved.
Big mistake.
His arm engages.
Identify the target and kill.
Post Note: Happy New Year my lovelies! Let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged in this new series.
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Helllooooo! Can I please be added to your Keanu Fan fiction list? Thank you! I love your works by the way! You keep a smile on my face. <3
Hiiiii! Yes, of course. Thank you for the kind words and thank you so much for reading.
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Slow Up
A/N: Alex is home after a few weeks away filming and his features have completely transformed making him unrecognizable to you.
Alex’s family and I gathered at his father's house for dinner awaiting his and Bill’s return. It isn't often that his entire family is in Sweden at the same time, and when they are a family dinner is a must. Bill volunteered to pick Alex up from the airport, while the rest of us lounged around.
I was helping to set the table when the front door slammed and the footsteps approached. Bill entered followed by Alex or I think it's Alex. There was a small cheer and laughter as he made his way around the room hugging and kissing everyone and all I could do was stare.
He approached me with eager eyes and opened arms, this is the moment when I would launch myself into his chest and kiss him tongue and all with no regard for who was around. I saw as he braced himself for the impact of my hug and added enthusiasm that wasn’t going to come. I was rooted.
I tilted my head to the side and squinted. "Alex?"
"Hi, min kärlek.” His arms encircled me and I held him loosely. He planted a kiss on my forehead and I gazed up at the familiar voice with the stranger's face. He wore a black north face cap and his natural blond hair, which was the longest I’ve ever seen it, was tucked behind his ears, so that it grazed his neck. I was used to the beard and the sideburns, but everything else was a lot to take in.
We sat across from each other at the dinner table and I couldn't take my eyes off him. It's Alex. I know it is, but my brain just couldn’t see it. There was a piece of the jigsaw puzzle missing. I remained quiet during the dinner and for most of the evening trying my damndest to figure out if my occipital lobe was damaged or if I was having some type of psychotic break.
Those are his eyes, that’s his nose and that voice, I can recognize anywhere, his movements, his scent, it’s Alex, but his face, it’s not connecting, is it the length of his hair? Could it be the hat? It’s the hat! It has to be the hat. He was in mid-conversation when I walked over to where he sat and took his hat off, which didn’t phase him, he ran his fingers through his locks and laughed at something his brother said. I retook my seat across from him on the sofa, his hat on my head and my eyes on him, he glanced at me and winked. I frowned and knitted my brows lost in thought, it’s not the damn hat, why can’t I see him.
***
As the night drew to a close and we were alone for the first time, I felt the tension clenching and unclenching its fist in my stomach. I know it's him, I’m 99% sure it's him, but that 1% has wrenched my insides, what if it isn't him?
He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on a chair. “Are you going to tell me why you've been distant all night and acting strange? Is it facial hair, don't you like it? You've always liked the scruff." He scratched his cheek.
I didn’t like the scruff, I loved the scruff especially when it grazed my inner thigh, but this was different. I looked at him willing myself to see him beneath the beard and the long hair, but I couldn’t. I don't see Alex, how do I tell him this?
“You just look very different, that's all.”
“Babe, it's me.”
Is it though? I thought.
He tried to kiss me on the lips and I turned my head.
“I can't.” I say avoiding his eyes.
“What? Why? What is it?”
“Your voice, your eyes, your mannerism. I know it's you, but.” I paused.
“But what?”
The silence had time to stretch into a downward dog and a cat pose before I spoke. “I don't see you.” I finally say.
“What do you mean? I'm standing in front of you.” He gestured.
“I don't see you, I don't see my Alex.”
“What do you see?”
“A conundrum.” I glanced up at him, he didn’t laugh. He always laughed or smiled at my witty comebacks.
“What do I have to do to prove it's me?” He approached me and I instinctively backed up. "No, don't you dare do that to me." He admonished.
I stilled as he approached, he held my face in his hand and I closed my eyes. My body responded, it knew his touch, it craved his touch. I remembered the last time he was away for a long stretch and that weekend of his return, we never left the bed. I filled myself up with so much of him that if you saw us side by side you wouldn’t be able to tell us apart. And tonight before he walked through the front door I anticipated the feel of his weight on top of me, the feel of his lips kissing me all over, the feel of him deep inside. The feel of us.
He ran the pad of his thumb against my lips pulling me back into the present, I inhaled the warmth of his breath as he kissed my cheeks, my chin, my forehead, my nose, and my eyelids. His lips brushed lightly against my lips and my body became voltaic. His kiss was soft, firm, passionate and familiar, yes, his tongue swirled in my mouth, I’m coming undone, he pulled the zipper to my dress and his fingers scraped against my spine as he pulled the straps of my dress down my arms. I grabbed fistfuls of his hair, his hair, his hair, that nagging 1%. My eyes flashed opened.
"Please.” I heaved.
His mouth was on my neck and my knees buckled as he bit down on the sensitive spot at the base of my collarbone, I'm his. “Babe, it's me." He took my hand and rubbed it against his jeans. "I promise you it's me, baby. I want you. I need you."
My breath hitched. I’m his, I’m his, I’m his, but...
“I don't see you.” I whispered against his ear.
“It's me. It's me. It’s me. It’s me.” He repeated gently as he lifted me up and carried me to the bed.
“It feels like I'm cheating on you.”
He stopped and gazed down at me. “Min kärlek, you're not cheating on me. I promise you’re not.” He stood and I watched as he pulled his jeans down. He rejoined me on the bed laying on his side, his head propped up by his hand. “Touch me.”
I reached out tentatively, he grabbed my hand assuredly and placed it on his face, he closed his eyes and fell back on the bed and exhaled slowly, my fingers roved across his nose, to his cheeks then down to his neck and collarbone, I made trails across his arms down to his fingertips, he interlaced our fingers and slowly brought the back of my hand to his lips, he released my hand and my fingers continued down across his chest and to his stomach. I stopped.
“Don’t stop.” He murmured.
I gazed at his black boxer briefs, he was straining to get out. I glanced up at him and his moonlit eyes were studying me, he pinned me with his gaze as he took my hand and pushed it into his boxers. He wanted me, he needed me. I wanted him, I needed him, but...I pulled my hand away and he sensed my apprehension. He sat up and freed himself of his boxers, I glanced down, Alex, that is definitely Alex, mole and all, I thought.
I straddled him and interlaced my fingers around his neck, I whispered in his ear, “forgive me, if it’s not you. ” He lifted my hips and slowly I opened to him, hugging him tightly as he filled me to the top. “Alexander!”
Post Note: This story popped into my head when I saw this photo of Alex because I honestly don't see him, I know it's him, but I just don't see it, and I thought this would make a fun story.
#alexander skarsgård fan fic#alexander skarsgård x reader#alexander skarsgård fan fiction#alexander skarsgård one shot#alexander skarsgård imagine#alexander skarsgard#poison in my ink#poisoned veins#poisoned pen#poisoned ink#poison in my pen#poison in my veins#fantasy fiction#fan fiction
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Hi I was wondering if I could be added to your tag list for Keanu Reeves please. Thanks
Hi! You have been added. Thank you soooo much for reading.
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Just came across your blog. Please add me in your keanu fan fiction list plzzzzz
You have been added. Thank you so much for reading!
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featherweight
A/N: Follow up to the wilderlove series.
Marrakech was a honeymooners dream, but without the actual honeymoon. It was more romantic than our first time there when he was filming John Wick. This time around I had his full attention and that came with being spoiled at every turn and him giving in to my every whim, which I think he secretly enjoyed more than I did.
***
A week later we were back in the City and we agreed that we would keep our pregnancy, my pregnancy to ourselves for as long as we can manage it. This was our moment and we wanted to bask in it for as long as we could or before my belly would start to show, which would be months from now.
***
We fell into our routine, he went to LA when it was necessary, but for the most part we were here in NYC and I continued my marathon training with him a bit leery, but the doctor signed off and said since I was a seasoned runner there wasn’t much to be worried about because my body and lungs were well acclimated. This didn’t stop Keanu from being over-protective.
I tossed my running watch on the bed and peeled my socks off. I walked into the closet and came out with a massage ball. I sat on the chaise that faced the bed and I placed the ball on the floor, massaging the balls of my feet. He came out of the bathroom with a shirt in his hand, I watched him and braced myself as he picked up my watch and clicked a few buttons then placed it back down on the bed.
I felt the coolness of his eyes on me, "you ran thirteen miles?"
I shrugged, "if that's what it says, I didn't realize I did." I lied as I stood and walked past him into the bathroom. I pulled my shirt over my head and felt his eyes in the mirror.
“You said you would take it easy.”
“I am.” I answered as I tugged on the straps of my sports bra and pulled it over my head.
His breath catches. “Running a half marathon is not taking it easy.”
I tilted my head and gazed at my boobs, are they bigger?
I tugged the string to my running tights. “Ke, it’s training season. I’m going to have to run twenty miles in a few weeks.” He became exasperated as if I told him I was funding a small militia to overtake NYC. “Dr. Rene said I was healthy and fit to continue my training. You were sitting right there or did you forget.”
He shakes his head, “I said I was okay with this, but I’m not. You need to stop, defer to next year.”
“I can't.”
“Or you won’t.”
“It’s the 50th anniversary. This race is big.”
“And you’re two months pregnant. I’m worried that the training is going to take a toll on you.”
“And I told you not to worry about that. This isn’t my first marathon. This will be my fourth.”
“But your first since 2016. It’s been four years since your last marathon.”
“You have to stop training?”
“Excuse me.”
“You're carrying our children.”
“And this is my body, nobody knows my body like I do.”
“You’re being reckless.”
“And you are being unreasonable.” I countered. “It’s not your choice to make.”
“Yes, it is, when you are putting yourself in harm's way. I don't want you running and that’s final.”
He pulled his shirt over his head, glared at me then turned and walked out of the bathroom.
I gawped after him. What just happened?
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, what in the actual fuck just happened?
***
I stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later feeling refreshed, but moody. I pulled on shorts and a crop top and made my way to the kitchen. He had his back to me and his phone up to his ear and a strong cup of coffee that made me crinkle my nose in his other hand.
“Thanks, Dave, text me when it’s done.”
He hung up his cell phone and turned to see me standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island. His anger was etched in his clenched jaw and knitted brows.
I sat across from him and he placed a cup of tea in front of me. I took a sip thinking of how best to plead to his softer side.
“Keanu.” I say softly.
His phone pinged and he looked at it and wrote a quick text. My cell phone vibrated and I pulled it from my shorts, it was a call from Debi, my assistant. I place the call on speakerphone.
“Hey Debi.”
“Hi, good morning, I’m just checking in to see if everything is alright.”
“Yeah, everything is fine, Whats up.”
“How are you feeling? Are you sick?”
“What? No, I'm not sick.”
“Okay because I just received an email confirming your medical deferment of the marathon.”
My eyes flashed upwards and he didn’t flinch. “Debi, I’ll call you back.” I hang up the call, my eyes becoming slits of fury.
“What did you do? You had no right.”
“You weren’t listening, so I took matters into my own hands.”
Anger gripped me by the throat and squeezed. “You had no right! None! What are you so afraid of?” I knew exactly what he was afraid of, but my ego wasn’t having it. I unleash my fury and Ambrose Bierce was right when he said, when you are angry you will make the best speech you will ever regret. “You being afraid that I’ll miscarry or have a stillborn has nothing to do with me or my training, that’s all on you.”
His movements were quick. Two strides and he was on my side of the kitchen island and in my face. I felt the heat and anger thrumming from him. “I’m trying to protect you from any unnecessary stress that can lead to early complications.”
“And you think this isn’t stressful? Ke,the doctor gave me the all-clear. I can do this. I am doing this. It's my body. I-.”
“You have never lost a child," he interrupted. I heard the tremor in his voice. “Y-you think you know pain and loss, you know nothing of it until you've held your unborn dead child in your hands.” He hissed. “There is no compromising or coming to a middle ground on this. You are not running, not until after our babies are born."
I saw the determination in his eyes, he wasn't going to give this up. He was prepared to drag this out for as long as it needed to, but I wasn't ready for how quickly my emotions and hormones laid down its arms. My shoulders fell and my eyes filled with tears, not because he was right because he was not, he had no right to tell me what to do with my body, but because I felt a slight tightness, a twinge in my belly as if the babies are telling us not to fight.
I reached out and placed my hand against his cheek, he leaned down so that our foreheads touched. I inhaled his warmth, his anger, his concern and exhaled calmness and love. I know the battle was lost, but I pleaded again hoping he would see reason. "Ke, please. Nothing is going to happen to me. Please."
He exhaled deeply and wiped the tears streaming down my cheeks. He ran the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip the way he did before he kissed me, I held my breath. He took a step back. "End of discussion." He picks up his coffee mug and leaves me standing in the kitchen.
****
Post Note: Did you really think I would let Keanu's birthday past without a new series? Shame on you! I can't believe wilderlove was 2 years ago. I hope you enjoy this new series, it's going to be so gooey like a warm & fresh out of the oven chocolate chip cookie.
*Keanu Reeves Fic Tag List: @missymysa @writerandee @my-fuckin-problem @all-by-myself98 @raindancer2004 @sarahivi @lovekeanureeves @gwenebear @howethornes @buttsucker99 @all-will-be-well-love @corpusthebamf @derangedcupcake @lovebug8301 @beacosta27 @esplosionedicoloriintesta @pigeonsbones @homeorbust @katnisspeetaprim @aspiringtranslator @celestiaelisia @zorrics @badhabitsbabyx @bookwormefm @jasmindaughteroftheworld @catsmieow @partypoison00 @harrisongslimited @suelonatomy @freyamoonriver @abeautifuldisplayofgeek @curlyhairedblueeyedangel
*Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the Keanu Reeves tag list or my permanent tag list.
#keanu reeves#keanu reeves x reader#keanu reeves fan fiction#keanu reeves fandom#keanu reeves fanfiction#keanu x reader#keanu reeves fanfic#poison in my ink#poisoned veins#poisoned pen#poisoned ink#poison in my pen#poison in my veins#fantasy fiction#fan fiction#keanu reeves x oc
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To all of my wonderful followers, it has been brought to my attention that @shado-raven has stolen a few of my marvel fan fics and are passing them off as their own.
This person clearly knows how to use the reblog function based on some of the stories they choose to reblog, so it's very disheartening to see the stories I've worked so hard on over the last 4-5 years being reposted without giving credit to @poison-in-my-pen
(@poison-in-my-veins is my main blog)
I use poison in my pen for ALL of my writing & fan fic content bc I'm anal in that way (lol, anal 😆). I've done all that I can do on my end and I need your help in getting my content scrubbed and removed from this person's page.
Thank you! ❤️
#poisoned pen#poison in my pen#poison in my veins#poisoned ink#marvel fanfiction#fan fiction#avengers fanfiction#poisoned veins#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel fandom#loki fandom#loki fan fiction
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@shado-raven the next move is yours!
Did you miss the part where my work is "licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License." Which means you can remix, reblog, transform, build up on what I have written, but YOU MUST GIVE CREDIT, which you have failed to do.
#TO CATCH A THIEF! BEWARE ALL MARVEL FANFIC WRITERS WE HAVE A WOLF AMONGST THE FLOCK!#marvel fanfiction#avengers fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fandom#marvel fandom#avengers fandom#loki fandom#loki fanfiction#bruce banner fan fiction#bruce banner fandom#steve rogers fandom#steve rogers fan fiction#doctor strange fandom#doctor strange fanfiction
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