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kisakis-boyfriend · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 6: Cockbulge

Pairings: Inui x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, top/dom!reader, demon!reader, sub/bottom!Inui, sorcerer!Inui, size difference, teratophilia, overstimulation, mind-breaking, dacryphilia, blood from neck biting briefly

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Prompt List by: sakuyaserenitykira 🧡

Author's Note: This ended up being very different from my original concept (and also way longer than intended) but I hope you enjoy what it turned out to be! :D

Keep an eye out for this AU in a future kinktober installment 🤫

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Inui was well aware of the dangers that this particular ritual held. Sure, any summoning ritual could go awry and become trouble quickly, but this spell was especially fickle. One tiny mistake or missed detail and he could summon something unwanted, possibly some eldritch creature that would destroy every known universe, but to him, the risks were worth it

He had spent so much time meticulously studying the circle that he'd need to draw, which materials you needed to place around said circle, offerings you were supposed to make, and even studying another language to learn how to pronounce the incantation correctly. Everything should be fine, it would all go perfectly and he would get what he wanted with no problems...

...He said to himself, sweating profusely as his arms carrying the backpack full of spellcasting materials trembled... Nevertheless, he marched onwards, deeper into the dark forest where you were supposed to carry out the ritual

Inui found the spot that he needed, a small clearing in the woods where the grass was noticeably softer and the breeze seemed calmer, where the only red flowers grew within the entire forest. This was where he began prepping for the ritual, casting the intricate circle with dried herbs, flowers, and crystals. Fixing several candles around the pattern and lighting them before stepping away to pull out his book of incantations, reading over the lines and practicing in his head. He waited about an hour, just as the instructions mentioned, before standing up and facing the circle. Taking a deep breath, he began the chant, repeating it three times as he walked around the summoning circle

He then put his book away and returned to the circle, stripping off his robes before laying down in the center, announcing his offering to the demon, “In return for your arrival and services, I have brought an offering of... myself. My flesh, my mind, and my soul are yours to do with as you please. Now, come forth!”

Tonight, Inui was uncharacteristically impatient. Normally he had no problems waiting for summoned creatures to appear, or waiting for spells to take effect. Tonight's spell, however, was very special. The being that he was desperately attempting to summon was a demon of lust, not an incubus or succubus, mind you. This was supposed to be leagues above those kinds of demons. And He was rumored to only appear before men that He found exceptionally attractive, which is what made this ritual difficult to find. Most of the sorcerers that committed to this summoning had no results, the demon refusing to come forth for anyone within the last 300 years, give or take...

Many people regarded this spell as nothing more than a hoax, claiming that it had probably become lost in translation somewhere and that was the reason it never worked. Some of the world's most handsome and skilled sorcerers attempted the summoning with no luck, so the magical realms deemed the spell to be fraudulent, because who wouldn't find these men attractive? That's what they all said, anyways. But Inui was tempted by the promises that this spell makes. Promises of "pleasure unlike anything this Earth could ever provide." And, "A love that no other could provide." These were loose translations of course, but Inui was tempted nonetheless. Hoping that if he was the one to finally summon the demon after all of these years, the other sorcerers would have to acknowledge his work, no longer able to poke fun at him or disregard his magic

He had other motivations for this summoning as well. The prospect of demon sex was very tempting...and since it was this demon's specialty, why not dedicate an entire year to studying the ancient books to bring this fantasy to life?

Inui's mind wandered as he awaited the creature's arrival. He closed his eyes, feeling the breeze glide through his hair and brush against his bare skin, his mind conjuring up scenes of what he imagined the demon would do to him. If it has claws, would it use those to scratch his delicate skin, drawing blood and licking it up with it's long tongue? If it has sharp teeth, surely it would sink them into Inui's tender flesh, marking him as it's human toy. And what about it's size, surely the demon would want to shove it's monster cock deep inside of him?

Inui began to squirm, his skin felt impossibly hot, as if he was on fire. His back arched as a single moan slipped out of him, rubbing his thighs together as his cock began hardening from the lewd thoughts. Suddenly, his hips burned, not in a painful way though, in a way that caused him to moan out once again

“My, aren't you an adorable little thing~ ” A low voice purred into Inui's ear, impossibly hot breath hitting his neck as a shiver crawled up his spine. His eyes snapped open to find a large creature hovering over his body, it's hands firmly gripping his hips and haunting yellow eyes boring into his, visibly glowing in the darkness of the forest

Inui wanted to say something, but the words died in the back of his throat, only able to gasp and pant as the demon loomed over his comparably small frame. “What's wrong, little one? Too stunned to speak?” A small noise escaped from Inui involuntarily, unable to process that this was actually happening. “Oh, darling, I hope you're not afraid of me now?”

Inui shook his head, not wanting the demon to leave him. “Good, good. ” It chuckled, brushing it's slender fingers against his cheek, trailing it's touch down the human's neck, smiling when Inui arched his back again, squeaking out some cute response and tilting his head up to expose his neck further

You slowly licked your lips, leaning down and grazing your sharp fangs against Inui's sensitive flesh, causing him to flinch and gasp. Gently kissing his neck, your hands traveling to his stomach and trailing your fingers downwards, stopping at the base of his dick. Inui whined in response, raising his hips up a bit to chase the addictive touch. Desperately wishing you would wrap those hands around his cock and–

“Already excited, are we?” Purring, you tapped his fully erect cock, eliciting a tiny noise from Inui. “Such a horny little thing, I haven't even touched it yet. Are you desperate for this kind of attention, sweet thing? Is that why you summoned me? ” You teased, baring your fangs and growling, just as hungry with lust as the sorcerer was. Depraved from worthy offerings for centuries now

“Take m-me...please...” Inui whispered. Spreading his thighs for you. You cocked an eyebrow at the request, the sorcerer's tone was meek, but you could sense the sincerity behind his words. Humming, you brushed a hand through Inui's hair, and he leaned into the touch, looking up at you through pretty blond lashes

“This is what you want, human? Once we start, I will not stop until you are marked with my seal. Are you certain that you can handle this? ”

Inui swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before his answer, “Yes. I want this, I want y-you...all of you. ” This greatly pleased you, a toothy smile spreading across your face as your slender tail swished from behind

“Very good~ Then let us begin, cutie~ ” You positioned yourself so that your face was hovering over Inui's cock, using your long, forked tongue to wet the member while your hands held the human's thighs apart. Inui moaned loudly when you swallowed his entire length at once, your mouth now flush with his pelvis. He instinctually grabbed your hair, tightening his fist as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on the tip harshly. Teeth grazing against the bottom of his cock and causing Inui to keen, throwing his head back against the ground and letting out a high-pitched moan

Precum hit the back of your throat, coating your tongue and drawing out a moan when you tasted the familiar salty flavour. You couldn't help but moan around Inui's thick cock, the vibrations causing his dick to twitch inside of your mouth. Which only egged you on more, now bobbing your head faster, wrapping your long tongue around his shaft. Inui was losing his mind, vision blurry as it felt like he was getting a handjob and a blowjob at the same time

He cried out your name, his back arching impossibly high off of the ground, “G-gonna– Aaahhh—!!! ” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the sorcerer's load poured down your throat, greedily swallowing every last drop. You slowly let his cock slide out of your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop sound, tongue lolling out and a bit of cum sticking to it

Already spent, Inui panted heavily. But you were far from finished with this new toy, licking your lips and immediately sticking your tongue into the human's hole, eliciting a scream from him. “Oh– Oooohh fffuuuck~ ”

You continued to lick and slurp Inui's ass, working your tongue deeper inside of him and shoving it against his prostate, making him shout out broken moans. Sobbing as his ass was stretched just from that thick tongue

Retracting your tongue, you quickly replaced the wet muscle with two fingers, pumping them in and out of Inui's wet hole. His head felt fuzzy again as his ass was stretched further, it already felt as if he was at his limit, his arm draped over his eyes and chest heaving. You wrapped your other hand around Inui's dick, giving it a few pumps before rubbing over his slit with your thumb. The poor human hissed, biting his lip and clawing at your arms, his dick still sensitive from the previous orgasm

This did not deter you, however. If anything it only made you move faster and push your fingers in deeper, once again hitting Inui's prostate and leaving your fingers pressed against it. Ripping yet another orgasm out of him as your hand milked more cum from his cock, the thick fluid leaking all down your fingers

Inui slumped against the ground, almost hyperventilating from the overwhelming pleasure. With his strength rapidly leaving him, his hands fell onto the ground, releasing their grip on your large arms. You rubbed your hands over the expanse of Inui's chest, cooing sweet praises into your human's ear. “You're doing so well, sweetie. Releasing all of this lovely fluid just for me~” Inui could feel the rumbling in your chest as you spoke, voice low and gravelly. “But we're just getting started~ ”

Inui's eyes opened in bewilderment. He knew that this would require way more stamina than usual, human sex. What he did not expect was how every single touch from your clawed, calloused hands seemed to drain that stamina immediately and light every last nerve on fire at the same time. It was as if your touch injected him with lust, keeping him constantly horny enough to keep going even if he could no longer hold himself up

The familiar sound of clothing hitting the ground brought his attention back to you, having just removed your trousers. Which allowed your cock to spring free of it's constraints. Inui's mind appeared to go blank at the sight, drool falling from the corners of his mouth as he stared at your fully erect length. Most humans would say something along the lines of, “No way in hell is that thing going to fit!” But Inui Seishu was not most humans. Inui was, to put it crudely, a cockslut and a size king. Always craving the things that would stretch him open enough to shut off his mind, only able to moan and take inch after inch deeper into his body

These thoughts were not unknown to you, as every last kink and preference became known as soon as they laid down in the enchanted circle. Which is exactly why you chose him. Inui would be capable of taking everything that you could give him; he craved an experience such as this one, and you were more than happy to give it to him

As if your body had its own gravitational force, Inui inches closer towards it, beckoning you to slide into his tight hole. So you grabbed his waist, impossibly tiny within your grasp, and lined your demonic dick up with his ass. He gulped, glassy eyes trained on your cock as the tip disappeared inside of him, the stretch already burning in the most delicious way

“Shh, breathe for me, lovely. There's still so much more that needs to go in.” Those soothing words echoed in Inui's mind as another inch slid past that ring of muscles. His eyes rolling into the back of his head and mouth falling open in a silent moan. You soothed the human as best as you could, sliding in further and further until your dick had disappeared entirely. “Ooohh fuuucckk yeeesss~ ” You hissed, panting as his tight walls convulsed around your cock, his hips jerking upwards as cum painted his chest white

A devilish grin spread across your face, slowly thrusting into Inui's twitching body. He came just from feeling you bottom out inside of him. Such a good little pet for you.

A familiar tightening in your core caused you to speed up, chasing your first release of the night while your human was already on his third. Yet, you could sense the passion inside of him, he craved more. And more is exactly what you would give him. Slamming your hips against his roughly, you growled praises against Inui's neck, nipping him with your fangs and flooding his insides with searing hot cum

Still partially recovering from his earlier orgasm, Inui arched his back high off of the ground, wailing as you fucked him and filled him. His body going completely limp in your hands, breathing erratically and making the cutest fucked out noises

You took a second to catch your breath and revel in the sight before you. There was a large bulge in Inui's stomach where he was stretched around your cock, his insides pushed aside to make room for the impossibly large intrusion. His blond hair clung to his forehead, beads of sweat sliding down his skin from the intensity of it all. Your hand brushed some of the wet hair away, nails scratching against his scalp and pulling a soft whine from him

You couldn't stop the smile growing on your features, it'd been far too long since you had felt this way towards a human. Especially one that intentionally offered himself unto you like this one did. Hungry lips met Inui's soft ones, moving together harmoniously as your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying this moment before you gave him another orgasm

Inui moaned into the kiss when he felt your fingers brush against his nipples, playing with them so you could hear more pretty noises from your sweet human, humping into his wet hole as you did so. Inui gasped as your hips snapped into him harshly, pinching his nipples simultaneously. Your thrusts began to speed up again, causing him to throw his head back in total bliss, fucking him at just the right pace

The temptation to mark your cute pet up was far too strong, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his sensitive neck. Nibbling on the soft flesh as you fucked your previous load deep into his gut, thrusting faster and faster so that you could add more cum to the mess already within his walls, making the bulge in his stomach even larger. Inui whined loudly, tangling his hand in your hair and tugging at the roots, begging for you to cum in him again, “Please– Ah!! More...cum in me more... Fill me with your cock until I can't think of anything else– F-fuuck—!! ”

Cum flooded his insides once again, dick twitching as his gummy walls squeezed it all out of you, your hips surely hitting him hard enough to leave a bruise later on. Blood trickled down Inui's neck as your fangs pierced his delicate skin. Tears ran down his cheeks from the combined intensity of everything

Inui's dick became hard yet again, still glistening from his previous orgasms. “Sweet thing, will you cum with me this time? ” You cooed, wrapping a hand around his length. Slowly pumping it as you peered into his gorgeous green eyes. “Just give me one more, then you can rest. Can you do that, darling? ” Inui nodded languidly, his hips rolling into your fist on their own

You smiled at him in response, taking a deep breath before thrusting into him again. The reaction from him was immediate; his hips jerked forward, head turning to the side as a loud moan erupted from him, hands grasping at your wrist that was gliding up and down his member. But you continued on, cock reaching the deepest places inside of him, rearranging his guts completely as his body molded to your length

Inui clenched around your dick, his fourth climax just within reach, crying out your name while your thrusting became sloppy. One hand continued to jerk him off, twisting your wrist as you stroked upwards and eliciting high-pitched screams from him, while your other hand rubbed at the bulge in his stomach. Effectively jerking yourself off through his body, almost using him as a fleshlight

The way his mind just shut off was instantly noticeable. Inui's eyes became vacant, unable to look away from your lustful gaze. Little “Ah! Ah! Ah! ” noises escaping him with each rhythmic thrust, no longer capable of forming words as he becomes your dumb little doll. Arms and legs completely limp, the only thing really moving is his hips as they thrust into your hand, chasing yet another orgasm even though his mind is unresponsive to the overstimulation

“I really did fuck you stupid, didn't I, little one?” No response, unless you count the slightest change in the pitch of the human's moans as anything. “So good for me. Mm, cum with me now, let us complete this pact~ ”

With that, you fucked into Inui roughly, snapping your hips into his and vigorously pumping his cock. Biting your bottom lip as you grow closer to your release and finally cumming within Inui's tight ass as he squeezes you once more, his own release following only a second behind yours. His body twitched and writhed under your grasp as a glowing red seal was burned onto his stomach, the large mark spanning from just above his bellybutton to right above the base of his dick. The same mark as your summoning circle, a mark of ownership. Telling all manner of demons and other creatures that this one belongs to you

Caressing the newly etched seal, a wave of possessiveness washed over your features for a moment. Your darling human was fast asleep, exhaustion finally taking over after so much excitement. His soft features became illuminated by the moonlight and you couldn't help but smile fondly

You slowly and carefully pulled out of him, so as not to hurt him or rouse him from slumber. Soothing your hands over his body and kissing his pale cheek before lying down next to his side. You pulled him against your chest and spooned his small body, wrapping your tail around his leg. Placing a kiss on the top of his head, you whispered a few more praises and loving words into Inui's ear before drifting off with him

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Tagging: @anxious-chick @steadybreadbluebird @6kabuki

#my writing #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #inui seishu #sub inupi #sub inui #male reader #dom reader #top reader #inui x reader #terato #sorcerer au #oneshot

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dolceterzo · 1 month

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il museo del sesso

Fandom: Ghost (The Band)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus III x GN!Reader

Genre: Romance - Fluff - Humour

Word Count: 1035

Summary: Reader has had a long day, and Terzo has Secondo's latest newsletter from his travels.

A/N: This is my first ever Ghost fic to see the light of day, and the first fic I've published in over a year. I'm scared, but I figured I'd unleash it into the wilderness! Some Italian terms of endearment are in the feminine, but the actual reader description is gender-neutral. Yes, bad Italian translations are featured - my ancestors are cursing me as I type. Enjoy!

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It had been a long day. Sister Imperator had run you ragged preparing for Terzo’s next assignment, though he would no longer perform the duties bestowed upon him as the anti-pope, being retired meant having other expectations placed upon him instead. You were to accompany him as an international dignitary of sorts, meeting with other congregations within the Ministry’s broader network, building an empire required going beyond Italy, Sweden or Los Angeles… And, after all, Terzo was a popular Papa, no matter how the dismissal from the higher clergy may have looked. Just as Secondo was out there performing ambassadorial duties when he wasn’t in his vineyards, so too would Terzo begin a new chapter.

But that was later. Now? Now you just needed to lie down.

Terzo was already on the bed when you entered your shared living quarters, and he was reading the latest instalment of Secondo’s monthly newsletter - an unusually personal and rather entertaining mailer only the Emeritus brothers were privy to.

To Terzo's great joy, it included a gossip column, specifically for his benefit he was sure, as well as an arts and culture spot. For Primo, there was a horticultural section full of plants and landscapes from wherever Secondo had been, and for Copia, there was a section on animals and literature.

The sound of your arrival has Terzo looking up with a pleased smile, his eyes are bright as he pats the space beside him, his raven hair falling loosely around his forehead. He puts Secondo’s digitally crafted newsletter down, letting the tablet rest on his thighs for a moment.

You waste no time taking him up on the offer, he looked utterly dashing in his glasses, his shirt unbuttoned enough to enjoy a peek of his chest. You loved Terzo in many ways, but seeing him relaxed and enjoying something away from clergy matters was high on your list.

Scooting next to him, you’re mindful of the device. Positioning your head on his torso, your arms locked around his midsection, the instant sensation of his warmth and the weight of his hand on your back has you exhaling with relief.

“Ciao, piccola ucella.” He greets softly, fingers grazing the back of your neck, slowly caressing as he begins to thread his fingers in your hair.

“Ciao, amore.” You hum, eyes closing for a moment, your muscles relaxing with each passing moment.

“Busy day, hm?” He asks with a smile, knowing full well that you would have been giving Imperator a run for her money.

“Si, very busy.” You answer half-heartedly, already well on your way to dozing on him.

You feel the soft rumble of his laughter against your ear, “It seems you’ve already decided on how to remedy this exhaustion, no?” Giving you a gentle squeeze. “Oh absolutely, you’re my favourite cuscino.” You purr, grip tightening as you shiver, trying to draw extra warmth from his body.

He wordlessly puts the tablet on the bedside table and tugs at the blanket draped over the headboard, bringing it down over both of you, making sure you are suitably covered.

“You know, I find it very sweet when you use some of your Italian, tesoro.” He praises, his thumb brushing over the shell of your ear.

His gaze never leaves you, concern and adoration blending into one, though the conversation had been playful, he could see that you were not only physically fried but mentally too.

“Sorry, honey, I’ve interrupted your Secondo monthly.” You mumble, sighing, you wanted to talk to Terzo and enjoy doing something with him, but now your work mode had been switched off everything else was catching up to you.

“Bah, if I cannot cuddle with mia amata, and make sure they are well, then what good is this love we share, hm? It is okay to not always be, switched on, alright? You tell me this quite often, do you not?”

You really cannot argue with him, especially when he speaks to you in that hushed way that few people, if any, ever get to experience.

“I do.” You concede, lifting your head to look at him, your face full of gratitude, your hand cups his cheek, fingertips tracing those lines that make him so handsome to you, watching with a sweet ache in your chest as he closes his eyes and enjoys the sensation.

When he meets your gaze again his lips upturn into a mischievous smile, “Shall I read to you this last section that mio fratello wrote?”

Your expression matches his in excitement, nodding as you immediately plant your head back on his chest, ready to listen to every word.

“Molto bene, prezioso.” He hums, keeping one arm wrapped around you, the other scooping up the tablet and flicking back to the page he had been reading. He clears his throat for dramatic effect, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

Terzo begins, “The weather in Amsterdam was a drizzle, overcast, not too terrible by any means, if a bit glum for such an intriguing visit. Naturalmente, I was invited to il museo del sesso…”

“The sex museum?” You snort, laughter shaking softly through you, positive you understood him correctly.

“Si, si…” Terzo says with a wry smile, continuing. “I was invited to il museo del sesso, and wouldn’t you know it? In the modern and contemporary gallery, they had painted the most squisito portrait of me. Specifically, my “Anno Zero” momento, quite the homage to the Emeritus physique…certainly, they picked the right brother to fully display our prowess, eh, cari fratelli? Needless to say, it was an enjoyable visit.”

Now you’re giggling uncontrollably, whether it was because there was a naked painting of Secondo in Amsterdam’s sex museum, or whether it was because Secondo seemed exceptionally pleased with this fact, you weren’t sure.

“That has to be one of the best instalments yet.” You muse, giggles still bubbling in your tummy.

Terzo relishes the laughter he pulls from you, thankful for his brother’s colourful display of vanity for helping you get rid of some of the day's tension. He laughs too, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, squeezing you gently.

“Yes, my love, I’d say it was too.”

Fin.

Italian Glossary:

Ciao - Hello

Piccola Ucella - Little Bird

Amore - Love

Si - Yes

Cuscino - Cushion/Pillow

Tesoro - Treasure/Honey/Darling

Mia Amata - My Love

Mio Fratello - My Brother

Molto Bene - Very Good/Very Well

Prezioso - Precious

Naturalmente - Naturally

il museo del sesso - The Sex Museum

Squisito - Exquisite

Anno Zero - Year Zero

Momento - Moment

Cari Fratelli - Dear Brothers

#ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #dolceterzo writing

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here-for-the-chaos · 1 year

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Very short and not beta'd fic!!! Before things get inevitably worse. Pls give me some constructive critique this is my first ever posted fic. This is dedicated to @qfliporiana cause they filled me with canon denying love of the two of them.

It wasn’t until around 9:30 that morning that Charlie had realized he was wearing Mariana’s glasses. He had been going about his tasks of the morning, making coffee, checking around the house for any traps that had been set (or mines he had misplaced), collecting all of Flippa’s toys that were strewn around the living room into the toybox along the wall, and beginning breakfast. He had to remind himself to triple the pancake recipe. His cooking had never been very… tasty, but he would try for them. When passing by the mirror near the door, only then did he notice the round edges of the frames, and how just a bit blurry everything was. He brought and hand up and slipped them off his face, unable to suppress something of a fond smile. Definitely Mariana’s. Maybe the reason he hadn’t noticed was that he never had to think of it before. A few nights ago, he and husband’s beds were separated. It was for the best, really, them not sleeping together. (Aside from the nights they did, but that wasn’t the point.) But now it was permanent. It was a hard night, one Charlie didn’t like to remember, but ever since then, the beds stayed pushed together. And the two pairs of glasses rested on the same nightstand. Despite him saying otherwise at every opportunity, Charlie didn’t hate it. Not one bit.

He ran his fingers over the rims. They had cracks and ridges, but were still charming in a way. The brunet sighed to himself. God, all of this was so… Domestic. Was that the right word? Was that how you would describe raising a child with another man, being a husband? Was that how you describe fixing up an exploded house with said man? A comfortable living room. A small but well used kitchen. An indoor farm with all of Flippa’s favorite plants and food. A ladder and stairway lined with family photos, or anything they found amusing. A child’s room with drawings across the walls. A bedroom that once was cold as ice, now warmed by two people sharing a bed. Yes, that was what it was.

The sound of a door creaking open drew Charlie’s attention, a bed wrangled Mariana leaning on the doorway. He wore a loose gold sweatshirt, with boxy glasses slid all the way down his nose bridge. Short dark hair hung down in his face, making Charlie chuckle at the adorableness stupidity of it.

“Charlie, creo que tienes mi-” Mariana was cut off by a yawn, as he rubbed his eyes and fixed the glasses on his face. Charlie could guess enough of what he meant and held up the pair in his hands.

“We switched,” the American chuckled, leaning back on the kitchen counter top as they swapped the spectacles back to their proper owners, “I took yours.” Charlie slid the square glasses onto his face, and watched as the world came back into clear focus. Grabbing the translator he spotted on the counter, he changed the settings so that whatever was spoken would be read out in the other language. Sure, the both of them had picked up enough of the other language to get what they were saying, especially Mariana, but it was better safe than sorry.

Mariana waltzed over to the other side of the countertop and leaned forward to face the slime, translator between them, and quickly took a hold of his hand. Charlie cocked an eyebrow, a green blush rising to his cheeks. He nervously laughed and averted his gaze, “Never knew you one for contact outside of shitty sex,” he quipped awkwardly. The Mexican scoffed and shook his head, sending a confusing pang of guilt through Charlie, as if disappointing Mariana hurt. Huh, weird.

Their eyes suddenly locked, intense, and firm. Mariana began to speak, “No sé muy bien cómo decir esto. Todo esto empezó porque nos dijeron que cuidáramos a un niño para el que no estábamos preparados. Y lamento lo que pasó, y lamento no haber estado ahí. Tengo mucho miedo de que algo así vuelva a pasar, pero lo intento. Intento ser un buen padre y un buen marido. Sé que tú también lo estás intentando. Y creo que está yendo a alguna parte. Espero que así sea. Así que, gracias por estar ahí. Y gracias por intentarlo de nuevo, aunque sólo sea por Flippa. Que sepas que no es mi única razón.”

Charlie blinked, the cogs turning in his brain halting. Similarly, the translator whirled uselessly, the speed of Mariana’s talking making it unable to translate. He dumbly tipped his head to the side, “What?”

Mariana shook his head, an annoyed yet warm spreading across his face. He paused for a moment, before seemingly shortening his thoughts into 3 words, “Te amo, perra.”

Charlie’s blush deepened as the translator read out “I love you, bitch.” He couldn’t help from smiling himself, and was about to explain how he was absolutely not a bitch-

“Uh, is something burning?” Mariana muttered, breaking eye contact. Charlie’s head shot up and he scrambled over to the stove, smoke beginning to bellow up from scorched pancakes. With his correct glasses on, it became clear to him that what looked like the 360° notch on the stove top was the 660° notch. He lowered his head in embarrassment as Mariana’s charming loud laugh filled the air, sticking the torched pan into the cold water filled sink. “Let’s just heat up some Eggo waffles…”

#they make me unwell #<3 #qsmp #qsmp slimecicle #qsmp mariana #fliporiana #slimeriana

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pickled-flowers · 1 year

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Extrait of something im working on

Translation in the ID

[Image description : A four pages comic in muted white, red and black, featuring my oc, Pierrot. He has white skin, red cheeks and lips. He has thin eyebrows, black eyes and black shoulder length hair. His hair is shiny and usually slicked back. In the comic, it is much more loose, curling at the bottom. He’s wearing a louse sweater in the same color as the background.

The first page is divided in 7 panels. The first panel is as wide as the page, with Pierrot laying down on his stomach, his cheek resting on his arms crossed in front of him. There are tears in his eyes, and “et ça déborde encore” (And it spills out again) is written in the top left corner. The second panel shows Pierrot’s crying eyes, nose, mouth and cheeks in a white rectangle. The words “de moi” (of me) are written in parentheses above the headless face. The third panel shows a farther shot of Pierrot, drawn more simply, as if he’s getting up from the floor, an abstract shape behind him. The fourth panel is a wide rectangle showing Pierrot looking up, crying profusely, his mouth open like he’s sobbing. There are abstract stars around his head. The words “J’ai l’amour plein la bouche” (my mouth is full of love) is written in the top right corner. The fifth panel is a tall rectangle. It shows a close shot of Pierrot’s face, crying with his eyes closed, a hand close to his throat as if he’s choking. There are bigger and sharper stars around his face, and the words “et ça coule, ça renverse, ça étouffe” (It flows down, it topples, it chokes) are written below the illustration, with the last line much bigger than the two others. The sixth panel is a wide but small rectangle, directly next to the fifth but much shorter. The words “si je cri” (if I scream) are written on the left, with the bust of Pierrot on the right. He is facing the left, and we can only see his mouth seemingly opening to shout, with an abstract sharp shape behind his head, as if to represent his voice. He is crying still. The seventh panel, which is below the sixth and isn’t in a box, shows the bottom of Pierrot’s face, and his hands close to his neck, as if hesitating. His tears have stopped, and his mouth is slightly open. The words “si je pouvais juste” (if I could just) are written next to the hands.

The second page is divided in 7 panels. The first panel is a tall rectangle with a shot of Pierrot from the waist up. He has his hands in front of his mouth and is crying once more. The background is dark and Pierrot’s left arm is spilling out of the panel. The second panel isn’t in a box. The words “Je t’aime” (I love you) are written three times in red, big and bold. On the right of the three lines, there is a bleeding red pen and two nails. The third panel is below the second and very thin. It shows Pierrot’s hand reaching for the border of his bed, as if trying to bring himself up, in the middle. The word “pourquoi” (why) is written on the left, and the words “est ce que chaque émotion me prend comme une vague?” (Do every emotion breaks me like a wave?) are written on the right. The fourth panel shows Pierrot’s hand letting go of the blanket. The words “et chavire tout” (and capsize everything) are written on the right. The fifth panel shows a simply drawn pair of Pierrots, with one Pierrot on top, choking the second who’s fighting back. The word “étouffe” (choke) is written a the top of the panel. The sixth panel shows Pierrot laying on the ground again, a hand on his head keeping him tackled down. He is crying, and the words “et noie” (and drown) are written in the right bottom corner. The seventh panel isn’t in a box and takes up the bottom half of the page. The words “je suis tellement petit” (I am so small) are written in the middle, with the last word way below the other line. Under it, a simple and very small drawing of Pierrot curled on the floor.

The third page is divided in fifth panels. The first panel is a wide shot of Pierrot’s bedroom, with Pierrot sitting on the ground, leaning on his bed. From right to left, his room has a large two-doors closet, a standing mirror, a bed with a metal frame and canope, a bed table with a lamp (the lampshade is made to ressemble a circus tent), and then the door. Reflected in the mirror are the words “et seul” (and alone). The second panel shows the two pillows on Pierrot’s bed. The one on the left has many folds, and looks like it’s used often, while the other is completely untouched. On that second pillow is written “tellement seul” (so alone). Next to that panel is written “Aimez moi!” (Love me!) in red bold capitals. The second panel is in the middle of the page. On the left of it is written “tout est trop” (everything is too much). In the panel itself, Pierrot is sitting with his arms around him and his knees to his chest. His eyes are out of sight. He looks stuck in a box. On the right of the panel is written “et j’en meurs à chaque fois” (and I die every time). The third panel is a wide rectangle, in which two hands hold a baguette, visibly applying pressure on the bread. The words “et puis ça recommence” (and it starts again) are written above the illustration. The fourth panel is right next to the third, and is the same shape. In this panel the hands have broken the baguette in two, with the words “je veux juste une miette” (I just want a crumb) written above the illustration. The fifth panel takes the rest of the page. In the top left corner is written “un bout de vêtement que je peux garder contre ma peau” (a scrap of clothes I can keep against my skin). A hand reaches out from the bottom left corner, up to the two third of the panel. Its fingers are loosely extended. In the palm is written “une main” (a hand) and on the index finger is written “un doigt” (a finger). The fingers are loosely entertwined with shiny black hair, in which is written in white “un ongle (pause) dans mes cheveux” (a fingernail (pause) in my hair”.

The fourth page is divided in two parts. On the top third of the page are four red mouths on a line, each with a speech bubble coming from them. From left to right, they read “dis moi” (tell me), “je suis si doux, pourtant” (despite it all, I’m so soft), “ma peau est intacte, tu sais” (my skin is intact, you know), “ça fait si longtemps qu’on m’a tenu” (It’s been so long since I was last held). The rest of the page is a square filled with lines, like radio static.

End ID

#.#art #my art #oc #illustration #artist on tumblr #comic #short comic #Pierrot #poetry #trans art #my oc #why did it take me so long to write that image description sddfbhfjdkhsjbn #anyways

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melodylnoelle · 1 year

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Wakanda Sunset

The Cards Have Spoken - Week 11 (My cards)

Here we are being a week late again because I have hit a major life roadblock... but I still hope that you enjoy this piece!

I also referenced @brightsun-and-darkmidnight ‘s piece called Punk from one of the earlier card draws in this one. Please give it a read for context, it’s a very lovely work!

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: Shuri (Additional - Bucky Barnes) Category: Fluff - Picnic in the park (with park being a loose translation on this one) Timeline: Post- The Dark World (took the liberty of making it wayyyy past TDW) Setting: Wakanda Warnings/Notes: This is my first time writing Shuri in any way, so I stuck to making it so something was a little familiar. I hope this is in character enough, but if not, please let me know how I can make it better! // We are trying to keep these all to a minimum of 500 words. You can use these same cards for your own story if you like, but please tag me and @brightsun-and-darkmidnight so that we can see what you do! Please enjoy Words: 1283 Summary: Shuri takes Bucky for a much-needed break from his goats Masterlist

Shuri moved quickly over the uneven grass. It had been a while since she had been out of the lab to enjoy the lush land of Wakanda. She was in need of a change of pace, and this was a perfect opportunity for a certain broken white boy to get a breather, too.

She found him as she expected to as she halted on the top of the hill – tending to his goats not far from his hut. He always seemed to be busying himself while he was here. He had told her once he felt like he owed it to them to get things done, as a thank you for removing the Winter Soldier from his mind. He worked twice as hard as most of the people in the country, only stopping to rest.

Well, she would make sure he rested his mind extra today.

“Good afternoon, Sargent Barnes.” She called when she thought she was close enough for him to hear.

He shook his head, moving his gaze from off into space and turning, focusing on her. “I thought I told you to call me Bucky!”

She smiled at the way they started all their conversations. It was a fun little quip, and she hoped he didn’t mind too much. She jogged down the hill, careful not to jostle the basket on her arm too much, and approached him before speaking again. “How are the goats today?”

He let out a sigh, looking to them. “Well, Punk didn’t get himself hurt today, so that’s always a good start.” A half-smile crossed his face as he looked to his favorite goat, which was bouncing around all of the other ones at a break-neck pace. His eyes looked as though they were looking to something far away, and she couldn’t help but wonder what they were seeing.

“Maybe because he has a good handler to keep him in line,” she bumped his shoulder, and waited for him to shake himself out of wherever he had just been. “I think they will be alright for the rest of the afternoon. If you keep spending all of your time with the goats, we might have to rename you the White Goat.” His head dipped with quiet laughter, and she felt her own smile widen. “You could use a break.”

“Oh, well you don’t know Punk. He gets into trouble pretty easily.” The smile was back, at least.

“Stop putting the weight of his choices on your shoulders for a moment,” she joked back, raising the basket on his arm. “Besides, this food is not going to eat itself.”

He eyed it in question. “You brought food all the way out here to little old me?”

“And for me! And I’m hungry, so come on, would you?”

“If you’re that hungry, we could just eat here. Then I can keep an eye on-“

“That is precisely why we are not eating here.” She insisted, pulling lightly on his arm. “Come, we are on a timeline.”

His brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

“You will see.” She let go of his arm and turned, sure he would follow without turning to look. Soon enough, she heard his footfalls in the grass behind her. She let her stride slow to give him time to catch up.

She tried asking him how he was doing as they walked, but he didn’t say much. He just started talking about the work that he had done, and the goats. He was supposed to be resting more than this, and she mentally chastised him for not doing so. She didn’t want to upset him further, though, so she kept that to herself. Instead, she launched into a story about the work that she was doing in her lab. He had a fascination with technology, she had realized, and she found it enjoyable to talk to someone about her work that for once had a very interested ear. He listened intently as she spoke about the new version of the Black Panther suit she made for T’Challa, and her recent improvement to the kimoyo beads. She answered his questions, which came as many that he seemed to want answered all at once. His eyes lit up with wonder at every answer, and as she used the holographic projector on the beads to show him schematics. It was a refreshing change in him, and she smiled, satisfied that this was now going as she planned.

It was almost an hour when they reached their destination – a grass-covered outcropping on one of the nearby mountains that overlooked much of the land in Wakanda. Hills rolled in waves of green at varying heights below, dotted with trees and splashes of color from wildflowers. Her timing had been perfect, it turned out, as the landscape was washed in the light orange of the just-setting sun, and the city in the background glinted with gold.

She looked at Bucky as he took in the scene, eyes wide and light. His mouth fell open slightly, and he halted in his steps.

“I know your hut gives you a great view of the sunset, but I thought you might like to see it from a different angle.”

“It’s beautiful here.” His voice was nearly a whisper.

“This is one of my favorite places to come to take a break from the lab.” She sat down at the edge of the outcropping, letting her feet dangle. She set the basket down next to her as she pondered the ground far below. It always amazed her, the expanse of the forest and wildlife there.

Bucky took another moment before he joined her, his steps muffled further by the grass and weeds. He braced himself with his arm as he mimicked her movements, swinging his legs under them. Seemingly mindlessly, he kicked his feet as he tore his vision from the scene in front of him. “So, you said you were hungry?”

“Yes, here,” she reached in, grabbing the foods that she had packed and spreading them between them where the basket had been. “I thought you might have forgotten to eat again, what with only grass to graze on around you.”

He chuckled as he took some of the food that she offered. “Thanks.”

“You are welcome, Sargent.”

He dead-panned a moment before ignoring it, taking a bite of his food and looking back into the sunset.

She followed his gaze, admiring the scenery in front of them as they ate wordlessly.

He was the first to break the silence. “I really appreciate everything your people have done for me.”

“It was nothing,” Shuri shrugged. “You needed the help, and we could give it.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

“Just as you do not have to so endlessly help with work, but you do.”

He shook his head, his food pausing halfway to his mouth. “That’s different, I-“

“You do not owe us that much.” Shuri met his eyes with a steeled look of her own. “You need to rest your mind more than you need to repay us. Do not make my work be for nothing by working yourself to death.”

She let that sit for a moment as he kept staring at her. She held his gaze, waiting for him to argue.

She was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t. He just nodded and looked back out at the deeper orange of the sky. When he spoke again, it was quieter this time.

She let him think his thoughts. She focused hers on the sunset, too, settling back into eating her food. She would take this small victory, that she had gotten him to at least try to relax for just this moment.

#the cards have spoken #shuri #Bucky Barnes #MCU #writing

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shadsiesartattic · 1 year

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My Fury Against the God of Hell [IMAGE ID: A black and white pen-drawing with highlights in black and gold Sharpie of a demonic-looking feminine lion-like humanoid with horns eviscerating a corpse-like being with a tipped halo behind his head. There are dark clouds and stars swirling in places in the background. / END IMAGE ID] A drawing I did to parse grief. My adult nephew died this week. He and I were very close and I've been a wreck and violent imagery is always a good thing to turn to when I'm not feeling right in the head. I am... an ex-evangelical. I used to have the whole shitty belief going on that you needed to believe in specific things in order to get to Heaven and that the consequences of your "sin" and not believing in these things this way was an eternity in Hell. It was what trusted elder people told me the Bible said when I was a young, dumb, anxious and self-hating teenager. I always held out hope for "unsaved" people I'd known who had died, but wasn't overly close to. Having gotten away from the church, I've spent years deconstructing that. I became Progressive Christian / half-agnostic and Universalist concerning the afterlife (if there is one), which is the only thing that makes sense to me because I've decided that if any of my loved ones are in Hell because they didn't jump through the right specific belief-hoops, I'm doing this to God. Yes, even if I'm a dumb little mortal-ant that he'll send to Hell for trying. My loved one who passed on this week wasn't religious. Kind of loose agnostic. So, you know... in my grief this week, I found myself shouting at the ceiling, flexing my claws and threatening God. If my nephew / best friend wasn't taken care of well... yeah "I'll do this to you." There is nobility in trying, dragging God down from heaven by his GUTS if he's actually anything like the fundamentalist-types say he is. Fortunately, I do believe in a more loving God, one of more complexity and I don't believe in a "plain reading" of the Bible anymore because that thing's been through so many translations and re-translations all with biases mixed in and ancient concepts that don't translate well to modern day and modern languages and I think we all bring our bias to it. God is more and better than what people who claim to speak for him say. So, this is me parsing my thoughts and my grief and personifying myself as a demon-like rage-entity attacking and murdering a cruel (and hopefully false because otherwise we're all fucked) concept of God, because as I see it, any concept of God that would let any of us go to a place of eternal suffering deserves to have his nasty self dragged down from Heaven by his hanging intestines.

#art #my art #cw: gore #cw: blood #horror #religious #religious themes #anger #grief #drawings #drawing #black and white #black and white and a spot of color #gore #cw:gore

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dreamlessinparis · 3 years

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Set My World Ablaze

Summary: Being in love with your best friend is always a struggle, especially when she has no idea. Or so you think.

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3522

Warning: smut, angst, sexual tension, f/f, language, Wanda Maximoff (she's babe and thus a warning), alcohol, fluff, friends to lovers, 18+, DNI if you're a minor

A/N: This is my submission for @msmarvelwrites 2k writing challenge and the song prompt that I based this on was Dress. I'm obsessed with this song and I knew I wanted to write this story from the very beginning. It just took me a bit longer than I anticipated because I kept fighting with myself over it

if you’re a minor, please DNI!

Please do not repost, publish or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading :)

Wanda’s fingers ran through your hair, as she created an intricate updo on top of your head. Your eyes fluttered shut, savoring the feeling of her nimble fingers in your long tresses.

“You gonna fall asleep on me, lovely?” Her melodic voice questioned, her Sokovian accent sending a thrill up your spine. You couldn’t help it, you were in love with your best friend and she was the only one who didn’t know.

Ever since Wanda had joined the team, you two were inseparable. Initially having bonded over your similar powers, the friendship quickly grew. Now two years later, and that feeling of friendship had bloomed into something more. At least for you. Every day you fell more and more in love with her.

Every time Wanda entered the room, your heart skipped a beat and sometimes you found yourself staring at her until someone nudged you out of your stupors. Luckily you were able to shield her from reading your thoughts or your friendship would long have been ruined. She didn’t feel that way for you and you knew she never would.

“Honey?” she questioned again.

“Mhmm?” you mumbled, drawing a sweet giggle out of her.

“Are you falling asleep, darling?”

“Yess,” You nodded, eyes still shut.

“Well you’re gonna have to wake up because I’m all done.”

“Noooooo,” you groaned, head falling back into her lap. She leaned forward, her beautiful hair creating a cocoon around you two. “You can’t be done, it feels too good!”

Smiling, she kissed your nose and gently moved your head, so she could get up.

“I have magic fingers,” she smirked, wiggling her fingers at you. You chuckled, her playful antics were rarely present these days, the stress of all these missions getting to you all.

“Yes you do, now come back and continue your magic finger treatment,” you pouted.

She shook her hand, “I can’t babe, I promised Vision I would train with him. But I promise tonight we can have a movie night, just the two of us!”

Getting off the ground, you followed her out, walking with her to the training room

“Sounds great, but we can’t tonight. Tony’s throwing that extravagant party, celebrating that one mission we didn’t die on, remember?” The one you still had to find a dress for.

“Oh no, you’re right! I completely forgot about that!” Wanda exclaimed. She suddenly gripped your arm, stopping you. “We should go together! That way neither one of us will be alone!”

Her words hurt your heart because you knew she didn’t mean it as you wanted her to, but nonetheless, you plastered a smile on and agreed quickly, before excusing yourself.

Natasha was leaning by your door as you approached and she pushed off the wall, trailing you into the room.

“You know you should just tell her how you feel?” she said, as you plopped down on your couch in a huff.

“Tell who what?” you asked, playing dumb. Nat gave you a ‘seriously’ look and you shook your head “I can’t tell her. She sees me as a friend, that’s all. And I love her too much to lose her.”

“So you choose to be unhappy.”

“You know better than all of us, that us avengers rarely find happiness,” you joked, and she shoved you playfully.

“Oh shut up!” she chuckled. “We should find you an amazing dress for tonight, that’ll help you feel like yourself again.”

You shrugged, sure that she was right but your heart just wasn’t in it. Alas, you let her drag you out to go shopping. Armed with Tony’s credit card, she found a cute boutique that was very misleading because you knew if you looked at any of the tags, you’d had a heart attack.

Watching as she tore through the racks of dresses, you sat on a comfy poof with a champagne flute in hand. She was a menace, throwing dress after dress in a pile you knew she was gonna make you try.

Shaking your head, you stood up and began scanning through the dresses yourself, running your hand over the material. A burgundy dress caught your eye, the satiny material, cut in a deep v, tight but not too tight with a slit up the thigh. It was beautiful.

You snuck into the back without alerting Nat, and into a dressing room. The dress fit perfectly, hugging every curve of your body and for a second you imagined Wanda seeing you in this and falling head over heels in love with you. Oh, a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

“Y/n? Where did you go?” you hear Natasha call out and peeked your head out of the room.

“Back here, Nat. I found a dress,” you hollered back. She let out a frustrated huff, knowing her efforts were wasted on you. You exited the dressing room and her eyes widened as she took in your silhouette.

“Wow! I’m impressed, you did almost as good of a job as I would have,” Nat said, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. “Now if you let me do your hair and makeup, I’m sure we can make Wanda not know what hit her.”

You quickly threw a hanger at her, which she dodged effortlessly, laughing as she left you to change.

The shopping trip didn’t last long after that, as you came to the counter to find Nat with her dress and a pair of heels for you. She was lucky you were very dexterous, otherwise, you would fall flat on your face in those shoes and what kind of impression would you make then?

“Okay Nat, you’re overdoing it, I can feel it,” you complained, as she ran the brush along your cheekbones in feather light motions. She tsked you, ignoring your billionth complaint of the night. “Natttttt!” “Stop complaining or I will mess up and we’ll have to start all over,” She threatened. A light knock interrupted your rebuttal and you both looked at the door. “There, you’re all done,” she smiled, booping you on the nose with the brush before she took the cloth off, the one she had tied around your neck to avoid messing up your dress with makeup.

“Finally!” you said exasperatedly, heading to the door. You opened it to reveal Wanda in a pretty rose gold dress, the v of the dress was nearly down to her navel, accentuating the slopes of her breasts and tiny waist, the sequins were scattered with a few in flower shapes, all catching the light with each movement. She looked like an absolute goddess with her long hair in loose waves. The smile she gave you lit up her entire face, causing your heart to race.

“Wow, you look beautiful!” She exclaimed pulling the rather speechless you into a tight hug. You hoped she couldn’t feel your raging heartbeat. Natasha laughed under her breath, covering it up as a cough and you quickly flipped her the bird from behind Wanda’s back.

“Thank you, Wanda. So do you,” you managed to get out without stumbling over your words. A quick round of applause, ladies and gentlemen! You pulled away from her and the three of you headed downstairs.

Natasha conveniently leaving the two of you to join Steve at the bar. Bruce was in charge of drinks tonight so you knew you’d most likely be hungover in the morning. That man did not know how to portion alcohol appropriately.

Wanda scanned the room, her arm looped through yours, waving to some of your friends. She pulled you alongside her as she came to the group of couches where Bucky, Sam, and Vision sat.

“Doll, that dress is immaculate,” Bucky complimented as you sat down next to him with Wanda beside you. Vision pulled Wanda into a discussion about their workout earlier and you turned your attention to Sam and Bucky.

“Thanks, Buck! Nat and I went shopping this afternoon,” you said, smiling at the super-soldier. You couldn’t deny that he was a god of a man and you probably checked him out almost as much as you did Wanda. Bucky Barnes was a gift to womankind and he knew it.

His eyes looked you over and you leaned forward a bit, placing your purse on the coffee table, causing his eyes to wander to your cleavage.

“Well you two did a great job picking out dresses,” He replied, eyes reluctantly leaving your chest. His eyes glanced over your shoulders and widened briefly, before returning to you nervously. You turned to look over your shoulder, only seeing Wanda talking with Vision and a room full of people mingling. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Bucky still looked a bit spooked when you return to him but as the conversation flows, him and Sam have you laughing uncontrollably. At some point, Wanda brought you a drink, and another and another until your whole body felt so hot and your dress felt like it was smothering you.

You leaned back into her, her sweet scent enveloping you like a warm hug. She giggled at something Bucky said or didn’t say, you weren’t exactly sure at this point, and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, hand resting by your breast.

“And that’s when I had to intervene, you know? Or Steve was going to get his ass handed to him for the last time,” Bucky chuckled recalling a time when Steve got his ass kicked. Steve tossed a pillow at him as the crowd laughed along with Bucky. Those two were probably the only ones not hammered at this point.

“I’m gonna get another drink,” you said, your words only slightly slurred. You could handle your alcohol well, but you were still quite tipsy and as you went to stand up, you wobbled. Wanda’s hand shot out, her powers wrapped around your waist, holding you steady. You gained your footing, nodding thanks to her, and headed carefully to the bar.

“I need another drink please, good sir,” you said, leaning haphazardly against the bar. Bruce’s lip quirked up in a half-smile as he handed you a pink concoction. You took it without question and started sipping, resting against the counter as you looked around the now practically empty room. Only the Avengers and close friends were left; it was always your favorite time of the night when it was just all of you having a good time.

“I think it’s time to head to bed, love,” Wanda’s accented voice whispered in your ear, her warm breath trailing along your skin, raising goosebumps on your flesh.

“Bed?” you asked confused. “You’re going to take me to bed?” the lack of filter elevated by the alcohol in your system.

“If that’s what you want, baby,” she said, “You don’t think I don’t see the way you look at me. The way you watch me, the way you stumble over your words when I’m around.”

You backed away from her, thinking she was mocking you, that she had made it through your mental barriers. “Wanda, don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. She tilted her head to the side, in that cute way that she does and grabbed your hands.

“I want you, y/n. I’m not messing with you. I want you too.” she reassured you, pulling you closer to her until her arms wrapped around your waist. Her fingers lingered over the bare skin of your back as she drew shapes on your skin, calming you almost instantly.

“Really?” you said, feeling ridiculous at how pathetic you sounded.

She leaned in, placing a sweet kiss on your lips and you whimpered against her lips. The kiss was electrifying, just the feeling of her against you ignited a dormant spark in you. Tugging you closer, she pressed herself against you. She tugged on your bottom lip as she separated from you. “Really, love. I almost took Barnes out earlier for the way he was staring.”

“You’re the one who spooked him?” you questioned. She nodded, with a wicked smile.

“Ever since I saw you in that dress, all I’ve wanted to do is peel it off you and if I wasn’t doing, no one else was going to.”

Lips to her ears, you said “Well good because I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Wanda grabbed your hand, and the two of you made your way to the elevator, giggling the whole way there. Oblivious to anything else. You were sure Natasha was probably smirking knowingly while the rest just stared.

The two of you barely made it to the bedroom when you pressed Wanda into a wall, slotting your thigh between hers.

“I don’t want you like a best friend. I haven’t for a long time,” you admitted against her lips before pulling her into a passionate kiss. Wanda’s hands grasped at the ample flesh of your ass, as she ground herself on your thigh.

Your hand cupped her face, holding her close, pausing for a moment to take her in, the moonlight from the window caressing the line of her throat, the swell of her heaving chest, the glimmer of her sequined dress.

Her fingers danced up your torso to the zipper on your side, lowering it with ease, before sliding the straps down your shoulders. You shimmied out of the dress and helped her slip her dress off, leaving you both in nothing but your panties.

Dresses discarded on the floor, you pulled her close, pressing your lips to Wanda’s neck. Her breasts bouncing lightly, her cheeks flushed, sweet nothings whispering from her lips, as she let her head fall back. Your lips sank lower, down to her breast, teasing one pebble-hard nipple, circling it with your tongue.

She pushed you onto the bed and you groaned as her teeth nipped at your neck. She crushed you to her, settling between your legs, skin to skin, every sweet curve at her fingertips. The red hue of her powers danced along your skin, making every part of you tingle. The added sensations made your back arch, your skin gliding along hers. Her fingertips dragged down your ribs, over the swell of your hips, finally brushing along the inside of your thighs.

A thrill sizzled up your spine and her eyes darkened at the sight of you. She was enjoying the way you were coming apart for her, unabashed and wanting.

“Wanda, I -” you panted as you felt Wanda drawing tight, firm circles over your clit with her clever fingers. She kept her pace steady, listening to you moan in time to her fingers.

It was truly like nothing you had ever known, even with previous lovers. The jolting current of her fingers combined with the soft kisses along your collarbones, your neck, your breasts. You mewled as she pulled a nipple into her mouth, lathing it with her tongue. You felt like time stood still, nothing but her teasing tongue and your breathless sighs, a heat building between your legs, setting your whole body aflame.

“Oh Wanda, yes,” you whispered.

“You like that, pretty baby?”

“Don’t stop,’’ you pleaded. She kissed you swallowing your pleas, your moans, all your sweet sounds. Her lips were like honey, warm and soft against yours. Your body writhing beneath her as Wanda’s fingers rolled over your swollen bud.

“I want to taste you,” She breathed, nuzzling into the valley of your breasts. You nodded, rapidly, the feel of her fingers making you yearn for more. You needed her mouth on you soon, before you lost it.

Kissing down your body, slow as melting ice, she ran her tongue along your sweat-beaded skin, her hand still strumming between your thighs. She pressed long, languid kisses on your belly, your hips, tracing around your navel with the tip of her tongue.

Spreading out your thighs with her hands, you laid splayed out on the bed before her. She watched you with a fierce look in her eye and her eyes drifted down to your silken softness, drenched in your slick. She moved slowly, running her tongue through your folds, flickering in and out.

You mewled and sighed, hips grinding, your hands in her hair, pulling her in tighter. Wanda moaned against you, feeling consumed by the taste of you, thirsty, starving for the flood of nectar on her tongue.

With a wave of her hand, she wrapped her powers around your breasts, pinching and rolling at the swollen nipples. The abundance of pleasure was quickly hurdling you towards the edge. You lost yourself as Wanda went to work in earnest, eyes rolling back in your head, fingers gripping the sheets blindly as you urged her on.

Your sounds made Wanda feel all-powerful, her every movement, every flick of her tongue or touch of her lips drawing out a groan, whispered pleas, a tremor running down the length of your body. With every drag of her tongue, your moans grew louder, longer until her tongue flicked over your pulsing bud, causing your body to tense up like a bowstring, spine arching. Your thighs clamped on either side of Wanda’s head, every muscle taut and shaking as your toes curled and you shrieked loudly.

Your whole body fell limp in the breathless aftermath, Wanda lapping up your release, tracing light circles over you, savoring your taste. Grinning mischievously she sank her tongue deeper into your petals, making you groan and reach for her head.

“Enough, gorgeous, enough,” you begged, pulling her back up your body. You enfolded her in your arms, your bodies melding into one as you flipped her over. Her legs wrapped around your waist as she kissed you feverishly, a long hungry kiss. You could taste yourself on her lips and you groaned, sucking on her bottom lip. Wanda smacked your ass, making you gasp and bite her lip, almost drawing blood.

“That was incredible,” she breathed out, licking her lips.

“Beginner’s luck?” you smirked down at her and she snarled in response.

“I didn’t hear any complaints,” she rebutted. “If you’re so cocky about it, love, why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

You kissed down her jawline, and she craned her head back, giving you full access to her neck. Your lips drifted down her throat, teeth grazing over her pulse point. Your fingernails traced lines of lust down her body, to her inner thighs.

“Say please” you taunted, kissing along her heated skin, nibbling marks on her gorgeous peaks. Your tongue flicked over a hardened nipple and Wanda whimpered, arching into you. You continued your descend down, situating yourself in between her thighs.

“W-what?” she panted.

“Say,” you whispered, nipping at the divet of her thigh and her sex. “Please.”

Wanda was hard-headed and stubborn, never one to bow down to anyone, but the way your fingers danced over her, light as a breeze, Wanda felt her belly begin to tighten as your tongue drew a tightening spiral around her clit.

“Say it,” you whispered again, flicking your tongue in a quick motion. The ache between her hips was a sweet agony, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Wanda, baby, say please and...” the light brush of your tongue, made her buck and shiver, “...I’ll give you what you want.”

Wanda lifted her heavy head, looking down the length of her body to you, ready to devour her. Anticipation was making it hard for her to breathe, eyes fluttering closed, she let her head fall back as she gave herself over to you entirely.

“Please.” Wanda panted.

A low, broken moan escaped her lips as you went to work, lips and tongues dancing through her folds. She had no idea where you had learned your skills, and any ex-lovers who may have had this pleasure from you, were now on Wanda’s hit list. She felt herself get wetter, her heat pulsed with every brush of your tongue. The bedsheet twisted in her fist as you slid a finger inside her, curling, coaxing, stroking against the spot that made her see stars.

The rhythm of your tongue matched your touch, and a second finger joined the first. Her back arched, lifting her hips to ground against your face, hands snarled in your hair. Wanda’s hips bucked wildly, and stars bloomed in her vision as your lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard. The heat inside her burst into ravenous flames and she lost herself, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

Coming down from her blinding high, Wanda felt you beside her, soft lips leaving sweet kisses on her face, and finally her lips. You hooked a leg over hers, and she wrapped an arm around you, tugging you close. Nuzzled into her, you basked in her warm embrace.

“I hope you know I’m not letting you go. You’re mine.” Wanda said softly. You kissed her neck and hummed in approval.

“All yours,” you vowed, slowly beginning to doze off, her hand stroking your hair.

“Maybe next time, we’ll invite Bucky to join,” was the last thing you hear before sleep pulled you under.

Taglist:

@fuckandfluff @caffiend-queen @jobean12-blog

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #marvel fanfiction #msmarvel2kchallenge #dress by taylor swift

353 notes · View notes

persephoneyss · 3 years

Text

The Monster.

Pairing: park jimin x f!reader.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish.

Summary: ❝You can be reborn like spring, but your nightmares will follow your footsteps at night.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, voyeurism, Jimin is a little delusional, implicit murder, death threats, a little violence, stalking, death of secondary characters, reader idolizes his mother, humiliation.

Number of words: 6000+

︙ Author's note: this is my first fic here, sorry if there are errors. My first language is not English and I don't speak it fluently either, so I used the translator. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoy it, I am open to criticism. Thanks!

(Puedes leer este y más fics aquí en español.)

To block.

Your mind felt strangely familiar, like it was processing the same situation all over again. And then the same thing happened again.

Blocking.

You never noticed those little details, invisible to the eyes of others. Or maybe you took too seriously the message and advice that your mother always told you when you were afraid of being left alone in your room because of the obvious and silly repetitive story of the monster under the bed, you were crying looking for your mother's room in the middle of the night. You were looking for refuge in her arms. However, the only loving words she had for you were: "Ignore him and he will go away, darling."

It seemed very clever to you, you began to close your eyes ignoring your worst fears and in a short time you could do what most children could not at your age, sleep alone in the dark.

Your mother was wise, maybe that's why you never understood why your father left her overnight. She never commented on the subject and little by little it was forgotten in her daily lives. Your father never existed, you never saw him again.

In his small town no one was exceptionally well known, unless he had done something good or bad enough to be called a hero or, in the same way, a villain. You were barely seven years old when it happened, a family with a lot of money had chosen your town as a decent land, enough to build their luxurious house where their children who came from golden cradles would grow up. According to the gossip, they were foreigners coming to invade their town and rule it, when in reality the Parks never got more involved in politics than necessary.

They were just rich, spending money.

Young women from all over the world and even from other distant towns came every day to try to conquer the privileged children of the great mansion built finely and strategically in the middle of the main square. The young women were beautiful, many times you stood at the door of your house admiring their distinguished perfect faces and you wondered if the children of the Park family were really worth it so that young and beautiful women who had previously been rejected would come back again. in search of new opportunities.

Your mother sometimes stood next to you with a smile and released another phrase that ended up marking your style of thinking, her voice sounded so ethereal: "Money compensates for external beauty, plus the dignity that you lose to those who possess it, it will never have a price."

Your lost look made her smile beautifully badly, then that same sweet voice that taught you things that other women would see as irrelevant, she too moments later she orders you to come home to eat. You thought about it so much, your mother was beautiful, she could remarry if she wanted to. However, she never did, or at least until that day.

You were poor, you were never afraid to accept it. You noticed it almost immediately, when you saw other children playing with toys that seemed impossible that you will ever possess, your mother was friends with the one who was best friends with your father, a carpenter who seemed to be very kind. He always gave you toys that came out with small defects and he couldn't sell, he was a good man until he seemed to misinterpret the situations and her relationship with your mother, unexpectedly asking her to marry him. Obviously you had to stop seeing him after the rejection. However, you were stubborn like the woman who gave you life, almost every day after finishing school you walk two streets to her local.

"How is your mother? Any suitors who weren't rejected the first time?" You laughed, helping him finish his last job. You shook your head, Peter was always very nice and honestly funny, you still didn't understand how your mother could reject them, but you never got into adult affairs. You were just an eight-year-old girl.

"She still misses dad." You whisper trying to drive a nail into loose wood, before being interrupted by Peter.

You look curiously at his downcast face of hers, as if she was keeping something deep within himself. But he quickly changes his expression as well as the subject. "Very good girl, no more help for today" he says, removing the dangerous tools out of your reach, you let out a exhausted sigh wanting to help him. Deep down you felt guilty. "How are you doing in school? I heard that the Parks will start a new campaign to help more in the education of the children, maybe you can see someone from the family up close."

You move your head in distracting affirmation playing with a piece of wood, Peter watches you for a moment and then sighs. You really were special, and if I could tell what happened to your father, you would let go of that glow for sure.

The following days passed in the same way, there was only a radical change in your routine. Now they forced you to stay longer in school so that you could take art classes with the children of the Park family. You had heard many mothers talking to yours about how handsome they were, and since their daughters would undoubtedly have a chance with Jimin, who was the eldest son and of course the first-born heir, you thought for a long time about a tall man with more years than all those young women who hallucinated with the perfect millionaire husband. However, it was all an illusion. Jimin was not a man, he was a seventeen year old teenager.

Perhaps the young woman who did win him over would be very lucky to marry someone her own age and not a bitter old man who only had money. Jimin was everything, young, handsome and a millionaire, the best bet of any woman.

His first class was alongside his current teacher, introducing each child in the Park family. They were all very handsome, but Jimin seemed to shine brighter than the stars in the dark night. You wondered if his younger siblings would become jealous of him, it would be an interesting concept considering you had no siblings.

Your hands moved the clay very patiently, your classmates seemed to enjoy these classes and they were undoubtedly fun.

"What a beautiful flower ..." You smiled nodding, no one would ever think that someone like Jimin would be delighted with the common drawing of any girl. Her gaze traveled around your pure and innocent face, as if she couldn't get enough of you. She sat next to you, admiring how your hands continued to play with the dough creating new shapes and I certainly enjoyed every second.

She had never met someone who would attract so much attention from her, you were ethereal. Jimin was immediately drawn to you, your gaze clear as daylight and your soft features, maybe you were just a girl but you seemed to tempt his attention incredibly badly from him. He felt the strange sensation of making sure you were okay, safe, probably in his arms.

He followed you closely, always arriving at the same time. Her mother used to say that Jimin was very irresponsible, she never complied with the basic principles of being a Park: Discipline, order and punctuality. Jimin was different, his siblings may have fulfilled those three bases just to give what they wanted to their parents and receive more affection from him, but not him.

Jimin was obsessive. Impulsive, and he had self-control issues.

The biggest dangerous trait that his parents noticed since he was little, is that he suffered attacks of anger against anyone without caring about the consequences of this. More than three of his babysitters claimed that little Jimin had hit them, slapping and shoving them. But all of this was radically ignored by the Parks, who turned a deaf ear claiming that their son was simply too controlling, and in a way, he was. Jimin liked to have everything under control, at his disposal.

Jimin found himself fascinated with your little eyes looking at him without fear and, even though it was painful for him, without love. For you, he was nothing more than a stranger. He tried to change that, sitting next to you every day and talking to you a few times when he could get more than two sentences out of you. He liked art, I could tell by the way you focus too much on a small painting of an insignificant tree.

If you liked trees, Jimin could buy a forest for yourself.

You loved roses, he could plant thousands in every corner of town.

Or maybe, your obsession with the smell of vanilla. Jimin went wildly for the most expensive vanilla scented lotion, hoping for some praise from you and he really didn't fail.

No, when the next day he sat next to you and your gaze turned to him with a kind smile. "It smells great, Mr. Jimin." Your soft tone and your minimal compliment was enough to make his entire body shake, his hands began to sweat and his voice seemed to falter. It was amazing how you managed to make him so nervous, while he was still a child.

"Y-do you like it?" She asked even knowing the answer, your head bobbing in a quick nod and an even bigger smile adorns your features.

You put your painting aside for a moment to continue responding, Jimin feels elated to see that his plan worked. Now you're just looking at him, as it always should be. "It smells like vanilla, I like vanilla." You say honestly.

"I see, I also like vanilla." You seem shocked, Jimin increases the tension of him fearing that he said something wrong. He really wasn't lying, maybe vanilla wasn't something he used constantly but he didn't dislike it either, he was just disguising and embellishing a crude truth.

And before long, Jimin feels his life take an unexpected turn, people had started to notice his closeness to you. They called him an angel when in reality he was a devil, rumors and silly praise that he would be a good father were not lacking and the young women who came to his door every day to look for a date with him increased in an exorbitant way. You were oblivious to all that, clearly. However, you could not ignore all the looks that fell on you when you accompanied your mother to the market, as from one day to the next you became someone important just because you were the focus of attention of him Mr. Jimin, as you used to call him with respect. Peter also suffered the consequences of this, you had not stopped going to his store and the young women looking to conquer Jimin or at least get his attention began to follow you wanting to win your affection so that you will speak well of them with their desired man, no you were interested in what they could offer you but the biggest problem was that they did not like to receive a clear 'No.' as a reply.

They were insistent and often annoying. They followed you closely, even when you went to school or to visit Peter who now only went twice a week, you did not want to go out and have to face the pity that it gave you to see many beautiful young women begging for a vague love and that I was looking for more money arrangements than anything else. Also, not all of them had good intentions with you. Your mother made sure of your safety in the face of any incident, and with that came her last word, her strict order not to approach Park Jimin again until he found a wife.

The rest would be history.

He would surely forget you and start forming his own family, having his own children and likewise, looking for his own problems. Instead, that never happened. Jimin had discovered your plan, he was angry, he couldn't believe that you were ignoring his attempts to approach you in such a way. Your attitude was so pure but you were hurting her so much.

He was delusional, she knew he was. But he didn't want to stop. So, he did the only thing that would make you stay by his side.

You felt strangely calm, you had been to and from school with no one following closely in your footsteps. Until you noticed that the whole town seemed to look at you with superiority, with caution. Peter never stopped taking care of his store, however, that day it was closed. You gave little thought to that coincidence, walking home with slow steps. Deep down you were scared.

Maybe you thought you could feel it, in front of your house a crowd of people lay watching the most unexpected marriage request. Your mother was uncomfortable, you could tell by how her face was distorted, and how her hands seemed to shake for reasons not yet known to you. You watched in horror as Jimin knelt before her with a smile pulling a ring out of a small red box.

For a moment, you thought about your father. You felt strange, you always wanted to have a warm fatherly hug but it made you uncomfortable to imagine Jimin occupying that place, you did not want him, you did not love him as a daughter to his firstborn or as another similar relationship. He was a stranger.

Your body fell into the seat reserved especially for you, your eyes observed any place in the church trying to disperse your mind. Your little shoes brushed against each other, your hands rested on the wooden seat waiting for the wedding to end as soon as possible. You never wanted to oppose your thoughts to the idea of your mother falling in love or getting married again, you really didn't care much as long as that person was good for her.

However, he was Park Jimin. You felt disgusted when her mother looked at you from afar with despicable eyes, just as anger consumed you when Mrs. Park tried to embarrass your mother in front of everyone. You didn't ask for this, nobody asked for it.

Maybe you spent too much time thinking around you to notice that Jimin was unhappy. A little upset. He had done what he had to do, chained you to him in some twisted way, marrying your mother and he felt happy, at first. I could see you walking through the church, you were wearing a little white dress to match your mother's and for a sinister moment I imagine that you were the one walking towards him to be named his wife. But he quickly came back to reality, you weren't his fiancée. You wouldn't be his wife.

Deep inside him, he knew how gross it was to feel like this.

Your mother's eyes reflected how unhappy she was, her gaze was uncertain. Jimin smiled seeing how you kicked the decorations that fell to the ground, you were completely oblivious to everything and more to the look of her that she followed you closely. Many called him a good father. Seeing nothing but his protective attitudes, but under the circumstances there were only hints of what might come next. You weren't allowed to leave Jimin's house, his father had left the mansion where his whole family used to live.

Mrs. Park could find no better excuse to leave than the sudden tantrum of her first-born son for marrying an older woman, a widow, and a daughter. This is a mockery and disgrace to her family's last name. Jimin just let her go, he wasn't even there the day her mother boarded the first train to her grandmother's house.

Your mother flatly refused to leave her house at first, she did not want to leave the little cabin that your father had built with his own effort so that both of them would live there and in the future raise their children, you always lived there and you did not want to leave either. But you never had a solid vote, your mother ended up agreeing from one day to the next, you did not know how Jimin managed to change his word so suddenly. Maybe there was never one reason, but you became all of them.

You were painfully present at all times. You observed how little by little, the wispy and wise glow that your mother possessed was getting lost between her empty eyes and her bent body, her head was never raised as she taught you it should be. She was a stranger, you felt scared in her presence. You remembered very well how her face seemed to light up when she saw you coming home from school and how she taught you something new every day.

"Mommy..." You spoke, your hands were still busy with the picture that you hadn't finished painting. But curiosity began to attack your mind.

Your mother came out of the kitchen with a little gray apron, she smiled when she saw you sitting on the floor. "Yes, honey?"

"Why do people get married?" Your gaze lifted from the sheet of paper, wincing at her glowing eyes.

"It depends, it's not necessarily for love. Maybe for money, comfort or ..." her voice trailed off, she still staring at you she leaned down to take your face in her hands. "Because they found someone, as cute as you!"

"Mommy ... I want to marry you!" Your mother began to laugh, your gaze traveled all over her face, joyful of hers and for a moment, you swore that you would hate anyone who dared to take away the great happiness of a genuine smile.

You finished your drawing, just in time because the front door echoed through the entire cabin. Your father appeared with a small drawer in his hands, your mother seemed to be illuminated with an angel when she saw him enter with a kind smile. Both were such for which. They were, more than lovers and husbands, lifelong best friends. Your life seemed to have something that many do not get even after death.

An outer and inner peace. It was perfect.

Almost so perfect, it wasn't true. White roses were always your favorites. However, you began to detest its soft light petals when it seemed that all the townspeople bought the same bouquet of white roses for the funeral of your, now, deceased mother. You took a seat next to her grave, ignoring everyone's greetings and goodbyes, who apparently forgot how her criticism of her increased even as the days, months and years of her wedding with Jimin passed.

You couldn't blame anyone. Or you just didn't want to.

Because the rope around his neck was not placed by them. And the multiple scars on his wrists weren't his marks. A small part of you felt helpless, angry and respectively, disgusted with yourself. Could you help her? Yes. No. Maybe if you had ... And he had stayed in the past.

The little white rose in your hand fell to the floor, everyone had left the room to go to the large buffet served at the reception. You froze, then with the same rage you began to step on the already dead flower at your feet, the petals of it were no more than a pure color, now they were disgusting and dirty. Jimin appeared minutes later, your gaze fell on his hand that was holding a black and a red rose.

"We should go, honey." He whispered as if afraid to scare you even though you were already looking directly at him. Your immobile figure instinctively ran into his arms, which greeted you with an incredibly loving warmth. The roses were placed on top of the coffin, a smile spread across your face when you saw the color red stand out against so much white, and for a second you came to compare the beauty of an outstanding color with your mother.

She stood out in a world where everyone wanted to paint themselves pure white.

Jimin was even more welcoming to you now. He pretended to sleep waiting for 11:30 to arrive so that he could hear your footsteps on the way to his room, you had developed a great amount of fear of loneliness. Jimin knew you always did that, but before it was with her instead of him. You would walk for several seconds looking in the dark for his room, which was next to hers, then I would always hear her voice singing for you, making you rest in his arms. For a long time, I want to be her. But now he was gone and I knew it was a matter of time before your steps stopped at his door.

She loved the closeness of your body to hers, how your hands clung to her nightshirt when you were cold or a horrible nightmare was projected into your dreams. Jimin horribly wishes he could see beyond your dreams, although that would be disrespectful to your privacy, he wouldn't mind breaking your trust too much if he could be sure that you would never walk away from him, even in your dreams.

He managed to chain your life to his, your scared look was the most beautiful thing I have seen before. I want to touch your little face and kiss your soft lips that tempted him every time the word "dad" came out of it.

Time was his greatest enemy.

Your presentation was no better, your hands were trembling again while your feet moved from here to there restlessly. Jimin just watched silently, but the distance between you and him was gigantic, he just wished that the damn bitch that was presented before him would shut up and leave his house. It was remarkable how you seemed angry, maybe it's jealousy, she has feelings for me. He thought sickly, a smile spreading across his face discreetly at his incoherent thoughts of him. The young woman sitting on the sofa in front of him smiled thinking that her talk had caused some pleasure in the young and widowed man.

Jimin admired her face, she was very cute, also she seemed to have good manipulation technique in people. She noticed it quickly when she walked through the door, her smile that seemed uncontrollable and genuine lit up his childlike face. He took a few seconds, he knew he shouldn't do it but he couldn't help comparing the woman to you. You were shorter, you were obviously younger and your gaze was more pure. Jimin was proud of your firm stance, knowing that in the two years since your mother's death you had developed a closer connection with him, and likewise, you were a beautifully perfect copy of him. Your hard gaze and your legs crossed with each other showed your firmness, and your silent opinion.

You wanted the fucking bitch sitting across from your stepdad outside your house.

You laughed at the very idea of one day finding a really good replacement for your mother. You couldn't replace a rose with bad herbs. For you, as selfish as he was, Jimin was your father, and he was your mother's love from the day he married her. No one would replace his position.

It was all three of them, and a part of your mind conned that Jimin still wasn't over the love he had for her. Or he would have remarried long ago, when the young women stood in front of the door of his house asking for a date with him. In those moments you didn't care, Jimin was a stranger, but now he was your father and you were his only daughter. No one had the right to ruin their harmonious relationship, they were both alone and someday serious like him.

You will be successful, you will make a lot of money and you will be able to marry someone you love.

But for now, your gaze fell on the little worn and dirty shoes of the woman in front of you. A smile crossed your face, your gaze lifted surprising the woman. While Jimin waited with his arms crossed for your following action.

"Woman." Your voice seemed to cut her tranquility, her face lost total color of life and a small grimace of fear passed over her fragile face. "I can't allow shoes like that to step on the carpet in my house ..."

The woman looked at Jimin who seemed indifferent, distracted by the painting on the wall.

"I'm sorry miss" she whispered trying to remove her shoes, his hands seemed more clumsy than usual. Her face burned when your hand moved closer to hers to prevent any further movement.

"Go away." A tiny part of you felt sorry for his embarrassed face and flushed cheeks. But it quickly came to your mind that she thought she was good enough to believe she was your mother. When she couldn't even challenge a stupid girl who acted like a spoiled brat. "Get out of my house, or I'll have to ask you not to just take off your shoes."

"I-sorry, I'll go now-..." A sob interrupted her dialogue, her hands searched for the notebook she was carrying but she gave up making a quick bow to Jimin and running outside.

The garden was your favorite part of the big house, the walls constantly made you believe that you were going to be eaten by them. Every day you came out of your lair admiring the many roses of many different colors growing beautiful and healthy. Your school stage was about to begin and you did not want to neglect your garden, which was also a tribute to your late mother.

So you hired a gardener. You were seventeen years old and soon to be eighteen. To say that you managed to experience the best of all those years was ridiculous, and deep down inside you, you thought that all of that was possible because of all the things Jimin did for you.

You had a debt, which you planned to pay in the future. You thought about leaving and letting him have a quiet life from now on without having to run to solve your problems, even if you never asked him to.

Jimin had eyes watching your every move, he clearly remembers how he put security cameras throughout the house, observing how you slept, what you did in the comfort of your room and privacy. Even when you walked into the shower and your hands ran over your body covered in water. Sometimes he felt guilty, for how he seemed to enjoy those moments that seemed so short.

However, it was repeated that as long as you were safe.

Breaking your trust wasn't that important.

Your eighteenth birthday was moderately quiet, Jimin was not used to throwing parties, and honestly, you never asked for one. So you just stood at the door of your house receiving expensive and cheap gifts from people who when they gave you the gift had a forced smile that told you many things. Most were familiar faces, of women who had previously sought a date with your father, obviously being rejected.

The little birthday cake looked so monotonous, the candles were the only thing you could stand out for. You were never aware that you had started to be privileged and extremely ambitious since Jimin proposed to your mother and forced her to marry him, pointing a gun at her pathetic silly little head. You had it all, and in your previous years maybe you managed to get excited about the new toys and accessories that were brought to you from other countries, you had everything that others did not, and a strange epiphany collapsed over you.

It was you, it was déjà vu. You were them, and those who were before, were now you.

You had all of them, and they didn't. Now, by your side, they were all poor. Jimin showered you with gifts, causing you to gradually lose interest in money. You remember your thoughts when it all started and likewise, you still remember the woman with the dirty shoes. You will be successful, you will make a lot of money. It was what you thought in the future for yourself, but now that was it, in a nutshell. Completely boring. You stayed for a moment thinking about them under the watchful eye of your stepfather who tried not to smile when you saw you, you were an adult now and he could finally take you as his own. They would be husband and wife, as it should have been from the beginning of its history.

And you will be able to marry someone you love. You still had only one option left, you blew out the candles with a single sigh causing Jimin to clap his hands and approach you to hug you fondly. The maids behind you only blushed when his boss started showing all of his affection. They weren't used to seeing him so often, Jimin had a firm and tough stance with everyone but he seemed to become as soft as clay in your presence. You came to mold Jimin in your favor, making him a cold person in front of his own demons and then, you left yours.

"I want marriage proposals, father." A gasp came from the mouths of the maids who just immediately fell silent. Lowering their head as they were taught. "I am ready to get married."

Jimin hummed still keeping his arms around you, your body was trapped in theirs. Your skin burned when his fingers squeezed your skin, leaving permanent marks. There was no reaction from you, you were used to this kind of unexpected treatment and it just didn't hurt.

"Get married?" His arms pulled away from you in disgust, there was no other reaction either. Jimin taught you not to object unless you knew you should. Stay calm and you will win. "And can you tell who would want to marry you? Useless little girl."

"Useless?" Your low voice seemed to make him happy for a moment.

Quickly his hands took the utensils to cut the cake, with a soft and sweet voice he continued: "Honey, men do not look for a girl with a lot of money like you. They look for someone to tame, and you, you could easily crush everyone with a wave of your hands."

A piece of the cake perfectly positioned on the plate was placed in front of you, a sob escaping your lips. You were really pathetic, eh? You clearly wanted to live something that has been claimed many times. You weren't going to get married, not without having it all like Jimin said. Then, you would lose everything and go back up to crush the others with greater pleasure.

"Aren't you going to eat? It's your cum-..."

"I will go to a neighboring town, I will finish my studies there."

Jimin looked down at his plate, ignoring how you got up from the table and put your cake aside. Then, your sweet voice finished destroying his self control that he thought he mastered long ago.

"I never liked that cake taste."

And it was the end.

You went back to the start again. You were planning to leave tonight, your bags were ready. Everything you needed was never in that house, it was never him. They were those that never existed in your present continued.

Your shoes did not seem to contrast with the dirt on the town's floor, you were also aware that those would end up in the trash. You didn't care, they were just shoes Jimin bought for your birthday, insignificant.

People were observant, and often foul-mouthed. It was no different than they spoke far from you or close to you, yet their mouths moved in a fussy way exaggerating reactions and creating new lies.

"_____...?" Your posture was decreasing, you no longer had to pretend. A smile covered your face, framing many emotions in one. "Come in please, it's your house."

Peter stepped aside, leaving room for you to enter. Your hands trembled but this time from cold, you still did not get over the harsh winter that suddenly passed. You took your shoes off quickly, briefly forgetting that this was no longer your home. You had sold the little cabin at a minimal price, and you were even happier when it was Peter who chose that place as his future home to live with his wife and his future child. Now he had two more. The little children ran in the tiny room playing with each other, a feeling of nostalgia invaded you when you saw them. You used to do the same before, together with your parents.

Those moments.

"Glad to see you around here, daughter." Peter hadn't changed, he was still the same kind and understanding person as ever. The opposite of you, of course. "Do you want to have tea? I heard on the streets that you would go to study far from here."

"Coffee, please." You responded still reluctant to talk about your departure.

Peter just laughed at your exaggerated denial, nodding and leading into the kitchen. You took a seat at the small table looking around. "You didn't change the decoration."

"Uh? ...." He seemed surprised by your observation, but he quickly smiled. "No. Actually, I think I liked it from the beginning how your ... er ... your mother decorated it. Besides, my wife loved it too. For her, it's beautiful as spring."

"Spring?" You ask, avoiding looking at it. You look down looking for some reason not to feel sad, in a way, you had compared your mother to spring as well. However, Jimin said that you were his. You never liked being called a light, because you always tried to be in your mother's shadow. And you liked it. "She believed that she is very wise, my mother was like spring."

"Thanks." A voice whispered from behind, your gaze fell on her and her face very much like your mother's. But they were obviously completely different. "I never doubted that you were just as wise. Spring represents the new beginning, a new beginning. Did you manage to find yours?"

Peter tried to intervene, clearly noticing the way his wife was trying to make you talk about your life after your mother died.

"I did. That's why I'm leaving here tonight."

"I'm glad we all need to be born again at some point."

You affirm with a small movement of the head, concentrating your gaze on the coffee cup in your hands. The smoke fell directly on your face hiding your grimace of disgust. Nobody deserves to talk about her like that yet.

"Ok, honey." Peter began by sitting across from you, with a cup of green tea and a serene expression. "Are you planning to go alone or with someone? I heard that travel today is very dangerous."

"Actually, I am accompanied by an acquaintance. His name is Jungkook, he also planned to leave and started working for me as a gardener to get the necessary money. We became good friends." You spoke remembering the adorable smile of the young man, he used to accompany you everywhere you went as if his job was to protect you. At first it was cute, but then it was annoying. Even after all that, you preferred to travel with him rather than alone.

"Oh that's very nice. I'm glad you managed to meet your goals. Good luck."

Your goals?

"Thanks, Peter."

His gaze lingered on your face for a moment, then he seemed to remember something very important. She gave you a smile before getting up to leave the kitchen.

"I have something for you, you are old enough to know this."

It was an envelope. Common and ordinary, but its envelope was beginning to deteriorate, showing that it was an old and very reserved letter.

You questioned your decision but took it, not wanting to read it in front of anyone even more when you read who wrote the letter.

You sat on the small wall, the trees and the cool breeze boosted your adrenaline. Small pieces of paper fell to the ground. So, you weren't thinking correctly at those times.

"I only married a man that I loved in all my life, I was happy. I had a daughter. I lived years of solitude and then, I was chained to an empty love."

"I know what you're reading this now. You're weak, darling. Maybe that's what made us mother and daughter. Because from the beginning I never had the courage to tell you that Jimin put a ring on my finger and a gun to my head. Or maybe, I was weak when I didn't get in the way of his errand, I should have told him that I hated him and that he could put a bullet in my head before giving it to my daughter. And maybe, I should have told everyone who passed by me that He was the same one who murdered my husband, he never left. I made you believe that. You never asked. "

"I saw you so happy today, you were running between the garden and the wedding. I could see his gaze following your hurried steps, I was almost completely sure that he was trying to get closer to you at all times. I told the woman next to me, But she shut me up saying that I can't be jealous of a father and daughter relationship. You weren't her daughter. She also ordered me to let them create a closer relationship, because I already had Park Jimin's heart in my hands. Liars."

"I always loved your curious voice. You used to ask me everything, and why everything was like that. But lately, I don't know what to answer. Why am I crying? Why is there a dark stain under my eyes? Why is there blood in the bathroom? Why did I never ask for help? I see you worry and you don't let me give you affection, because you prefer to give it to me. I also see how I start to bother him, I am a hindrance. Now I understand, I knew it but I never wanted to accept that it happened. He was everywhere, and likewise, I was never part of the plan."

"There were only two things I didn't tell you. I love you and my last piece of advice. Honey, lock it up and fly to the start, whenever you feel lost. A fresh start and never forget spring."

You stifled a sob. Covering up your pain. You had not noticed that the night had covered the sky, a dark blue blanket arrived. It took you a long time to assimilate that all the fragments were torn papers, and it was not a letter. It was an envelope filled with, apparently, incomplete sheets torn from a notebook. There was a fragment that was not part of the leaves, but rather was written later.

"Lost parts of a sad widow's diary.

Peter."

They were from your mother's diary. So where was the rest? What actually happened? A message came to your phone, you read it quickly still drying your tears.

JUNGKOOK:

Our trip is in an hour, I hope you said goodbye to everyone.

Received at 7:05 p.m.

I still do not:(

Received at 7:06 p.m.

Along with both messages was an attached picture, a photo of him and his grandmother. Jungkook talked a lot about her, and hers, her brothers. You smile, still wiping the tears from your face.

Your feet moved, the leaves in your hands seemed too heavy. And yet it was something you needed to do.

"Are you at home." His monotonous voice invaded you, he was busy reading a book that rested in his hand. The maid came over leaving a cup of coffee beside him, greeting your presence politely. "I have some things to discuss with you, darling."

"Me too, Jimin." It was the first time you had said his name without due respect, he seemed surprised for a moment. But his expression changed to one of happiness, as if he had been waiting for it. "I couldn't say goodbye, I'm leaving today. I think you already know that, though."

"Actually, no. But it's nice to hear it from you."

"I ..." Your voice dried in your throat, a giant doubt fell over you. You didn't want to leave without telling him how much you hated everything about him. His attention, his affection, his smile, his gaze, his voice. Everything about him was disgustingly charming. "I think I'll go get my bags."

Jimin nodded, ignoring your presence. Still distracted with reading him.

"Before you go, can you give me that back, darling?" Your gaze followed where he pointed his finger. Your hand. The leaves were still there.

"It's something of mine-..."

"Oh I don't think so. It really is very easy to threaten someone, just suffice to say that you can put a bullet in their head to make them your obedient little puppets."

"I do not understand your..."

"Me? It was obviously me. I'm surprised you thought your mother would be smart enough to leave a confession letter to her ex-lovers, days before her death. You really had a lot of credit for her." His chatter was accompanied by a laugh. You were paralyzed, shaking in your useless state of shock. "But I will not say that I did not plan, I hoped that you would never have the courage to try to leave my side. And even if that were the case, I knew that you would say goodbye to the only person who reminded you of her. Peter, she has a family. lovely."

Nor did he expect you to have the courage to cheat on him with another man. Oh, the gardener. Poor Jungkook, his body now rested leaving behind your favorite flowers. Jimin bit his lip, another mocking smile peeking out with intensity remembering the cutthroat figure of the innocent but guilty young man.

You were his...

"How can you be so cruel?" The doubt in you seemed to want to keep growing, passing second by second through your head. You weren't sure you could understand that everything that happened in front of you was actually planned by the same person who swore never to leave you alone. The same man who disguised himself as a sheep so he could eat you like a wolf. "Did you kill my mother ?!" Jimin seemed surprised by your desperate tone, he did not expect to be able to unbalance your state so easily.

It was lovely. Certainly.

"No sweetie." He murmured closing the book in his hands, setting it on the table next to the steaming cup of American coffee. "But it would have been exquisite to be the reason for his pain. Unfortunately, it was your father who won that title."

"Where did you get this from? I know she wrote it, and I also know that she would never give it to you knowing what a monster you are." Tears were running down your cheeks like water, you knew you were a mess but Jimin seemed to look at you like you were a perfect work of art.

"I found it." He spoke casually, getting up from his seat. Walking slowly towards your trembling figure. "It was a coincidence, I like casual things. It was a coincidence that you studied at that school, that your mother was a widow, that your father died. That he will make me fall in love with you."

What is your goal now?

"I love you darling."

Escape from the monster.

#yandere bts #bts yandere #bts #yandere!bts #yandere bts au #yandere kpop #Yandere #kpop yandere #kpop #kpop smut #bts smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #yandere jimin x reader #jimin yandere #jimin x you #park jimin #yandere!jimin #jimin smut

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the-broken-truth · 3 years

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Can you do yandere bully damian wayne with fem reader how is a 🐺🔥🥋 🛡 🏹 🏠 she is like demon Hunter in Gotham and sometimes batman call for her help with joker/villains and goes to Gotham academy

They Heated each other guts and she tolerated him for her best friend Jonathan Kent

Damian was dating raven how was using him as cashcow

one day in park damian get drugged and kidnapped and reader saw all the and follow there car to save him after killing his kidnappers and heal him she comfront him and tell him everything is going to be alright and give him her jacket (which he will keep it for eternity) she dropped him to his house after buying him something to eat when damian get to his father house he sees the no-one care of what happened to him they saw the he got kidnapped and they didn't care at all but reader did and the how the obsession began

*STATIC*: An Obsessive Love Born From Loathing Hate? A Golddigger, as well? Quite an interesting request we have here, Broken.

Broken Truth: That we do, so let's see what words weave together from this.

Quick Note: The name of the reader shall be Kacela - The name means 'Huntress' and is of African Origin. Just like Damien, she is a rich kid but not because her parents are rich - her human parents abandoned her and she started her own business; it's well-known but not on the same level as Wayne Enterprises.

Broken: SORRY IT'S LATE! I'VE BEEN BUSY!

- THE RUNED HUNTRESS -

[On Top Of Gotham's Rooftops - Across from a besieged Research Facility]

[The Joker was at it again but this time he wasn't working alone - he enlisted the aid of Clayface, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Killer Croc, Riddler, and Penguin to take hold of a Research Lab that contained something each member of the crime group wanted; how Joker knew this and managed to use to persuade the villains into working with him is something The Dark Knight couldn't quite figure out. What he did know was that he was going to need some help.]

[At the moment, Damien (Robin)., Dick (Nightwing), and Barbara (Batgirl) were the ones of the Bat-Family that were with him at the moment but the 4 of them weren't going to be enough and - as much as he hated it - he needed aid from a power beyond what his gadgets and training could do.]

Damien (Walks over to Batman, who is standing on the edge looking at the facility): Father, why are we still waiting while those criminals are making a mess of the place?

Bruce: Because we're waiting for someone.

Damien: Who? We have enough people, we can take them.

Bruce: Don't be foolish, Damien. It's the four of us up against seven of Gotham's Worst, plus they have hostages and have access to unknown tech or substances that could put us at a disadvantage. The person I called has abilities unlike our own and can help us a great deal.

[Damien opened his mouth to protest when a smell hit his nose - it smelled like something was burning.]

Dick (Sniff-Sniff): Does anyone else smell something burning.

Barbara: It smells like brimstone.

Bruce: She's here.

[Nightwing opened his mouth to question who 'she' was when a burst of red light from a ball of fire came shooting upward from the edge of the building before falling and landing in the clear space. The ground was scorched from the fire impact and cinders flowed around the air and lined along with the black marks up everyone looked at the person - or creature - that caused it.]

[The creature was large and muscular the body of a wild canine - a wolf - but it stood on 2 legs; except, wolves didn't have 2 horns on their foreheads. The forearms of the beast were scarred with runes that were glowing red against the black fur. The creature began to stand on 2 legs - its height towered over Bruce - and opened its eyes to reveal eyes made from hellfire. The humanoid wolf opened its jaws - letting the hot smoke out - as it began to speak to the Head of the Bat-Family.]

Wolf Creature: Dark One (What she calls Bruce), I'm answering your persistent summons. Why have you decided to bother me this time?

Barbara: Summons? (Looks at Bruce) Bruce, what is that thing?

Wolf Creature (Glares at Barbara): I am not a 'Thing', I am a Wolf Demon while you are the daughter of a cop - playing dress up just to spite him and stick your pointed head where it doesn't belong.

Barbara (Points at the Wolf Creature): Hey, don't call me a...

Bruce (Raises his hand): That's enough. (Looks at the Wolf Creature) Runed Huntress, I know you told me that you're not interested in helping me but this is important. Those criminals have many innocent people captured and are trying to access some very dangerous information and products. Our gadgets can only get us so far but your power is limitless. We need your help.

Runed Huntress (Snorts - making smoke shoot out her nose and blow in Bruce's face): Very well, I shall aid you once again but - as I said before - do not make a habit out of this; you are this city's protector, not me.

Bruce (Nods): Noted. (Turns back to the building) Now, let's get a move on.

[The Bat-Family & The Runed Huntress leaped across the building rooftops until they reached the last roof that sat at the edge of the street that separated the distance of the buildings and the facility. The Bat-Family watches as the large humanoid wolf clapped her hands together and slowly brought them apart - bring a bow that looked as if it was forged from hellfire itself. The Runed Huntress took the bow in hand and did the motion of drawing back an arrow - Damian's eyes widen as an arrow materialized in her clawed hand before she releases it. It goes soar across the street and crashes into the glass dome but doesn't shatter it - it melts it away and forms a large hole, big enough for the rescue party to get inside.]

[The villains looked upon the hole of melted glass as the Bat-Family glided in and stood before the corrupted 7. The Ringleader - The Madman known as Joker - began to chuckle and clap his hands.]

Joker (Clapping): Bats! I knew you would be here! A little late to the party, don't you think?!

Bruce (Glares at Joker): I don't have time to deal with your demented mind, Joker. Release the hostages and turns yourselves in or we can do this the hard way.

Joker (Pouts and shakes his head): Oh, Batsy... Always the party pooper; no cake for you. But in case you have noticed, I outnumber you so...I don't think you can win.

[Just then - the monstrous roaring howl of the Runed Huntress echoed in the hall as she leaped through the giant hole and landed on all fours between Joker and Bruce. She glared at the villains as her jaws opened as lava leaked from the cracks of her fangs, making 2 pools on the tile floor that began to rise and form into 2 clones of herself.]

Runed Huntress (Rising to her feet as the lava clones did the same): Now...it's an even playing field.

[When Killer Croc let loose a hiss, Runed Huntress barked back at him and the two of them charged at each other - fighting as beasts knew how to. Bruce dealt with Joker, Barbara took on Harley Quinn, Dick took care of Riddler, Damian attacked Penguin, while the other two clones took on Clayface and Poison Ivy.]

[The fight ended with the villains in cuffs and loaded into Transportation Trucks, Barbara found the scientists locked in the safe - all accounted for and unharmed, but mentally scarred - Bruce was talking to Gordon while his family looked on. Damian looked off to the side and watched the large wolf walking away and ran after her as she turned into an alleyway.]

Damian: Hey, where are you going?

Runed Huntress (Looks over her large shoulder at the Wayne Family Heir): What do you want, boy? I have aided your leader, that doesn't mean I need to stay around for his talks with the Commissioner.

Damian: Just what the hell is your problem?

Runed Huntress: My 'problems' are none of your concern, Rich Boy.

[Damian opened his mouth to speak but the large beast was engulfed by a flammed vortex that erupted from the ground around her feet and covered her until it exploded into cinders - leaving Damian alone in the alley, looking at the charred circle in the ground.]

- RAVENS LIKE THINGS THAT SPARKLE -

[The Next Day: Gotham High School - Courtyard]

"I gotta go to the library to do some last-minute reading before class starts but before I forget, can I get some cash, Bae?" The Indigo-Eyed Girl asked as she looked upon the Wayne Heir.

"More? I gave you $700 just last week." Damien said as she looked at his girlfriend.

"I know but there's a sell on some rare spell tomes and I didn't want to risk someone else getting their hands on them. o, can you give me some cash?" Raven asked with a tilt of her head like a cat; making the heir exhale.

"Okay, I send another $800." Damien exhaled, earning a kiss on his cheek from the girl how had his heart before she turned and began to walk away.

"Hey, Damien!" Damien turned to see his friend Jonathan Kent walking up to him, but he wasn't alone.

Beside Jonathan was a dark-skinned female around the same height as him with golden eyes in a constant glare, She had short black hair in an undercut - only on her right side. She was wearing the Gotham High School uniform but the man one - she wasn't in comfortable skirts and she had the money to allow this. On her wrists there 2 golden bracelets - long ones that start at her wrists and end further up her forearms - that had some kind of writing on them that Damien didn't care to translate. Why didn't he care? Because he didn't like her.

"Hey." Damien said as he looked in the direction of his friend and...tolerant.

"You good, Bro? You seemed stressed out." Jonathan said with concern in his blue eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine - Father was telling us that there is some large event tonight and he wants all of us there; no questions asked." Damien said.

"Large event? What's that?" Jonathan asked.

"He talking about Gotham's Angel Award - it's when all of Gotham's CEOs and Walking Wallets gather in one room to see who's been recognized as the most giving and kind." Kacela said as she looked at Jonathan with her arms folded.

"Funny the stray (That's what Damien calls her began she doesn't have parents, relatives, or even a surname.) knows what it is, even though you would never step foot in that place, much less get to hold an invitation." Damien said with a smirk on his face. Imagine his shock as Kacela pulls an invitation to that event from her pocket.

"You were saying, Bird Brain?" Kacela asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Damien began to get mad and Kacela glared at him when Jonathan stepped between them.

"Whoa. Whoa. No need to fight! Just relax, guys." Jonathan said as he looked between her friends. Kacela exhaled and stepped back.

"Fine. I won't fight because Jonathan asked me to." Kacela said as she glared at Damien.

"Same here, Stray." Damien glared at her too before turning back to his phone.

"Whatcha doing, Damian?" Jonathan asked.

"Sending some cash to Raven's card." He said.

"More? Didn't you send her a lot just a few days ago?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes, but there was a book sale and she didn't want to miss out on the rare tomes that were for auction." Damian explained.

"Is that the song she sang to you? For someone so brilliant...you can't even see when you are being played." Kacela said as she placed her hands in her pockets and began to walk away.

"What's that supposed to mean, Stray?"Damian glared at her.

"Just remember - Ravens are fond of things that gleam and shine but they are also creatures that sing songs of deception." Kacela said before she entered the building, leaving Damian and Jonathan standing there.

- THE RAVEN'S DECEPTION & TRAPPED IN THE LION'S DEN -

[After Highschool]

Damian wished his friend a good evening before getting on his motorcycle and driving out of the school's parking lot. He knew that the normal route he would take was going to be caked in traffic for the event tonight and decided to head the long way. He was coming up on the red light at the intersection of 4 famous restaurants/cafes sat at the 4 Corners. He was the first vehicle in line when a familiar voice was heard from the right - he looked and the eyes under his helmet widened when they landed on his girlfriend sitting at an outdoor table with shapeshifter of the Titans - Beast Boy a.k.a Garfield. They were sitting at the table, holding hands and smiling at each other - as if they were in love.

"So, what do you want to do this weekend?" Raven asked.

"I wanna go to the new exotic animal show but tickets to that places are stupidly expensive." Garfield said.

"Don't worry, babe; I got the money from that walking piggy bank, Damian." Raven said.

"You got more? I thought he gave you some a few days ago." He said.

"Yeah, I just told him I spent the money on tomes and he gave me $700 more. All I have to do is pout and he'll give me whatever I want." Raven smirked at the notion and Garfield laughed.

Damian felt so bad about what he just heard - when the car behind him hooked their horn to let him know the light was green, he floored it and began driving down the main streets before the tears in his eyes began to blind him and he stopped on the edge of the park, took his helmet off and hid his face in hands - sobbing; showing the weakness of the Al Ghul.

His heart was broken - the one he loved was using him for a wallet for the shapeshifter and he was too blind to see it. The words Kacela said before she left that day - she was warning him that Raven was disloyal to him. The one he hated was the one who warned him.

He was so caught up in his crying that he didn't see the hooded figure sneaking up behind him and smacking him off the bike with a metal pipe in the back of his head. His world got dark when he heard the words.

"We got Wayne's Brat - we're in for a huge payday, boys." the fading voice chuckled until Damian faded into nothingness of mind.

[Around 2 Hours Later]

"Wake up, pretty boy!" someone commanded as he slapped the Wayne Heir wake - he was tied to a chair in the center of an unknown warehouse with 6 Thugs surrounding him - all of them with weapons in their hands.

"What? What the hell do you want from me?" Damian demanded as he glared at the man who slapped him - only for the same man to punch him in the face; Damian could taste the blood on his tongue before he felt it flowing out of his mouth as he tried to shake the daze from his head.

"We don't want shit from you, brat; we want a payday from Wayne and I know he'll pay huge racks to get his little boy back." The leader said.

"Boss, we've been calling Wayne but he ain't answering." A good said.

"Then keep calling! The sooner we finish this, the better." The boss order. Damian hung his head down - he was done for: his father wasn't answering the phone, his love breaks his heart...just what was he to do

The answer came as the window of the warehouse came crashing inward and a familiar Lycan-Shaped Figure came crashing into the room and landed on the ground on all fours before rising to its hind legs with a very pissed off glare in its eyes - the runes on its body shining in the light.

"What the hell is that?!" One of the Goons said as he tried to get his gun - only to have his head bitten off by the creature's jaws, letting his body hit the floor.

"Kill that thing! Fucking kill it!" The Boss said as he made Damian get to his feet and used his as a human by holding his arm around his neck and hold his gun at the creature that jumped around, slaughtering his men before turning to face him.

"Don't come any closer or I'll blow his brains out!" The boss said as he held the gun against Damian's head.

The Runed Huntress looked at a long metal nail that was sitting between her feet and reached down to gather it in her large clawed hand. Damian and the boss watched as the large wolfish creature twirled the nail between her fingers before flicking it on its head and sent it flying like a bullet - hitting the boss in the center of his head, making them lose his grip on Damian and slump to the ground. The Huntress ran over to Damian before he could fall and gathered him tenderly in her large arm before using the other one to cut his ropes - even free, the boy didn't move, he was too...cold.

"Damian, are you okay? Did they hurt you?" The Runed Huntress asked him as she looked at him with concerned eyes. Damian opened his mouth to speak but he noticed the bracelets on the creature's wrists - he saw them before, he saw them every day during school.

"K...Kacela?" Damian questioned as he looked into the creature's eyes again - there was a sparkle, a smile, then a small vortex of fire that revealed the human face of the one he hated at school.

"I always told you that you were brilliant, just weren't wary of the right people."Kacela said as she took off her jacket from her shoulders and placed it over Damian's, "Wear this, you're freezing." She said.

"You... You saved me? I thought you hated me - after everything I said and did to you." Damian said as he looked into her eyes.

"I never said I hated you, Damian; I said I hated the way you acted. As for saving you, I may have a beast's soul and form but I'm not a heartless monster to just let someone get hurt; not even someone who tries to me." Kacela explained before she turned back into the Runed Huntress, gathered Damian in her arms, and rose to her feet, "Now, let's get you home; you are too cold, you might be sick." she said as she turned on her heel and leaped back through the window she came through with the Wayne Family Heir in her arms.

- THE ONE YOU HATE IS THE ONE WHO CARES THE MOST -

[Wayne Manor]

The Runed Huntress landed in front of the door to Wayne Manor, using one of her hands to knock heavily on the door - it was soon opened by the Wayne Family Butler - Alfred Pennyworth.

"Hello, Madam Huntress, is there something I can help you with?" He then noticed Damian in her arms, "Is that Master Damian? Did something happen?" He asked.

"He was attacked and held for ransom but Bruce never answered the phone and he was harmed." Runed Huntress said.

"That's understandable - Master Bruce and the others are currently getting ready for the event and have asked not to be disturbed." Alfred said, making Kacela's eyes widen in anger.

"What?" She growled out. She pushed past the butler and followed Bruce's scent up the stairs to a meeting room - she barged in and - sure enough to what Alfred said - Bruce, Dick, and Barbara were all there, dressed in elegant attire; they all looked at the large wolf who barged into the room.

"Huntress? Is there something you need?" Bruce said.

"Are you serious, Bruce? Your son is in my arms, beaten & possibly sick, are you're asking me if I need something? Why didn't you answer the calls from Damian's phone?" Kacela asked.

"As Alfred told you, we're busy getting ready for the event." Bruce said.

"He's your son, Bruce Wanye - he was attacked, held for ransom, and beaten up and all you care about is this event? He could be sick, he's as cold as a block of ice." Huntress growled.

"Well, you got to him and saved him before he was hurt too bad, but since he can't come to the event, take him to bed and we will deal with him in the morning." Bruce said as he began walking do the door, past the wolf and his sick son, with his other 2. Kacela growled at him before looking at Damian.

"Where's your room?" She asked, her eyes widened when his hand grabbed her fur and held her close.

"Please... Please, don't leave me here." Damian pleaded - begged - as he tried to hold more tears while shivering.

"There's no way in hell I'm leaving you here. I need to get you some warm clothes." She explained.

Damian told her where his room was and she when there - placing him on the bed for a moment as she gathered pajamas and a new school uniform into the bag before closing it, picking Damian back up, opened the window, and the two of them disappeared into the night.

[Kacela's Loft]

*BEEP - BEEP - BEEP*

"Yeah, just as I thought - you're sick." Kacela said as she pulled the thermometer from the boy's lips and looked at the numbers. Kacela placed it on a napkin on the nightstand that was beside the bed Damian was laying in and the chair she was sitting in. "It seems to be a simple head cold - some medicine and rest should get you and running again, not to mention a good night's rest." Kacela explained.

"How come...you didn't go to the Gotham's Angels Award?" Damian asked as he looked at her with a warm feeling on his face - it must have been the cold.

"That place is full of people who just wanna get seen, not for doing right." Kacela explained before she reached on the nightstand to her phone, "You have to eat something before taking your meds and I don't feel like cooking tonight, so I'll order something. What are you in the mood for - Pizza or Burgers?" Kacela asked.

"What? You're letting me choose?" Damian asked.

"Sure, I don't usually have guests, so why the hell not?" Kacela gave a smile...and the warm feeling returned but it was stronger this time.

When the pizza arrived, Kacela helped Damian sit up, and the two of them ate while having conversations - turned out they had a lot of things in common, from their love of books to their outside activities. Damian asked Kacela a few questions about her knowing Raven was cheating on him and why she didn't tell him directly - she explained that it wasn't her place to speak on another person's relationship, plus he made it very clear that he had a dislike for her so what reason would he have to believe her? Damian apologized for his words but Kacela said she heard worse and wasn't bothered. Just before bedtime, Kacela gave him cold and sleeping medicine so he would be alright in the morning; she stayed with him until he fell into slumber before she went to sleep herself.

When the morning sun rose - Damian woke to the smell of pancakes. Kacela made them breakfast and even made sure Damian's phone was placed on the changer. Damian got dressed in a fresh outfit and went to eat with Kacela; who informed him that she got his bike and helmet from the park after he went to sleep; he thanked her, finished his breakfast, and left out the door...with her jacket.

- NOT SO BLIND ANYMORE -

"What do you mean we're over?!" Raven yelled as she stood before Damian.

"Just as I said - I'm done with you, Raven. You're nothing but a gold-digger and a liar, and you only see me as a mess to keep that green boyfriend of yours happy. I'm not giving you anything else but a hard time if you ever show your face again." Damian glared at her, causing her to huff and march away to the school building.

"Whoa, Damian." Jonathan said as he walked over, "You really broke up with her?" He asked.

"I don't have time for gold-diggers and liars." He looked around, "Where's Kacela?" he asked.

"She called and said... Wait, did you just call her by her name? I thought she was a stray?" He said but swallowed when Damian glared at her.

"Never. Call. Her. That." Damian growled.

"Okay. Okay, man - sorry." He said.

"Now, what did she tell you?" Damian asked.

"She said she couldn't come today - there are some major investors that are interested in her company and want to make a partnership, so she won't be in today." Jonathan said.

"Really? Then, I'll speak to her later." Damian said.

"Talk about what? Wait, isn't that her jacket?" He asked.

"Yes." He said, 'But it's more than just that. It's the start of what Kacela and I shall be...together.'

#yandere damian wayne

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goldenlaquer · 3 years

Note

may I request playing strip poker with abuto? nsfw obviously 😏 and thank you so much for sharing your amazing writing and art! 💕💕

Noo, thank you for having such a humongous brain to send in this request!! But please, I must ask you to ignore any atrocious mistakes because I'm terrible at understanding the rules of poker meself.

Reader with petty competitiveness over the littlest things and a compulsion to cry at everything, and especially when things don't go her way, in other words a brat, playing strip poker with Daddy Abuto? 😫👌 AFC meeting start

Abuto NSFW Headcanons:

Abuto is devastatingly good at strip poker, you come to find. How? He's so bad at math, can't even recite his table of six even with the aid of his fingers, and to your mind, this somehow translated to him being bad at card games too (which is totally the reason why you even challenged him in the first place and nothing else), but Abuto is absolutely crushing you.

You put down a two pairs, he puts down a three of a kind. Off goes your shoes. You play a straight, he has a full house. Off goes your socks. You manage to win a round with a three of a kind and Abuto peels off his boots, but by the next round... With teeth gritted, you show your hand, a no pair, and Abuto shrugs in apology, flipping his cards over to reveal his royal flush. With trembling fingers, you unwrap your obi, let it dangle to the floor, and draw the loose flaps of your remaining clothes up to your armpits to cinch it there. With how the game is playing out, it won't be long until you're as naked as the day you were born and a month's salary poorer for it.

As you stare at your hand, which is yet another terrible one— plip. To your horror, tears are starting to fall off your face. It's a reflex of yours, one that you've never been able to correct. You growl quietly, trying to force the upcoming tears from breaking, and hurry to discreetly wipe your face, angry at yourself for crying and hoping that he doesn't notice. But he does, of course.

Woman and their tears, Abuto thinks as he awkwardly rubs his neck, are the strongest weapon in the whole wide universe. "Hey, we don't have to do this," he begins as gentle as he can, lowering his cards down to the table. "Let's stop. You've got nothing to prove here."

But you're so far gone that calling it quits is simply not an option. "No, this is more than clothes, this is my dignity on the line!" You say wetly, waaaay beyond reason, furiously shuffling the deck with trembling fingers. And then, for apparently no good reason: "Get ready, old man!" You sniff, glaring at him as the cards are dealt.

See, he was gonna resolve himself to start throwing winning cards and relinquish victory to you. Let you have the rights to gloating and his paycheck, because he feels bad that you're crying. It's a juvenile game meant for randy youths anyway, and he should feel ashamed for feeling so eager beneath his best deadpan. Even if he's throwing away the chance at quelling the wonder of what your skin looks like (warm and soft, surely, if the skin on your delicate neck and hands is any indication) under all those clothes, what's it to him if it'll make you happy again? But...

... Old man? Abuto looks up at the ceiling and tries to draw strength from dimmed lights. Yeah, he can admit he is one but being taunted with that by a sore loser is rich. If you were a man twice your size and twenty-three (or is it twenty-four?) times less cute, he would've been inclined to kill you for the disrespect. Luckily for you, Abuto's nursing something sweet for your eyes and smile, even when you're being a chit, like now.

But for that snide comment, he picks his cards up and he's gonna keep it fair.

And so you continue your losing streak as sullen tears courses its way down your cheek, smudging the ink on the cards. The outer layer reveals a white shift underneath. And underneath the white shift

Miraculously, the tables are turned and Abuto starts losing. And the reason for this is because Abuto's not thinking with his sensible head anymore, he's starting to think with his Yato dick.

And the reason for that, is this: Your tits, squishing against the confinements of your bra. The slope of your vulnerable tummy, heaving up and down with each shallow breath. The plumpness of your thighs, accentuated as you squeeze them together tightly, trying very hard to not draw them up into your chest to hide your goose-fleshed body. Holy shit, those panties—

His cock is uncomfortably swollen to full capacity from skin, lavender, and lace, and he's losing his clothes at a rapid rate. His socks, then his shirt, then the arm (you begin to protest this, but Abuto tears it off, crumbles the metal, and tosses it to the floor without much ado).

Then he wins a round again, and you visibly fluster, hands wringing, eyes shy and shining from tears (from embarrassment and arousal at this point because Abuto's bare chest is doing fucking wonders to you), there's only your bra or panties left, and you're not sure which would be better, so you

slide off your panties, wiggling your hips side to side (and if Abuto thought his dick is as hard as it was ever gonna get, then he is wrong), but it's hard to completely remove it without parting your legs a bit, and both you and Abuto blankly stare as you slither the panties away and something clear and liquid strings from the sodden fabric, connecting to your flushed folds peeking between the mess of your thighs.

"You win." Abuto breathes out with a bark of laughter, collapsing back into his seat. "You win, you little shithead."

I can't stop writing so damn much for Abuto. So. Damn. Much. But I can't condense this shit despite my best wishes, sorry.

#gintama #gintama headcanons #gintama imagines #abuto #abuto x reader #abuto yato #answered ask #not sfw #asks open

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winterscaptain · 3 years

Text

take the day.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: a treat for the grown-ups in the room! this was inspired by an ask from many moons ago, and a couple of ideas submitted in the form. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, tell me what you think (and practice safe sex)! this fic contains explicit content and is 18+. minors do not interact or prepare to be blocked! also some tags aren’t working - please double check your urls below!

words: 2.8k warnings: smut (p in v penetration, [consentual & monogamous] unprotected sex, creampie, counter sex, floor sex, oral [reader receiving], very light soft dom!aaron),language, food mention

summary: “if you can’t laugh with your partner during sex, break up.” - my sister-in-law. au!november 2021.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Take the day. Nothing’s going on here and we don’t have any cases for once.”

You tuck the phone under your chin as you pack the last of the kids’ lunches. “Really?”

Emily’s smile is audible through the phone. “Really. It’s Friday, and isn’t Hotch out today?”

“Yeah, but mostly just to avoid the meetings with -”

Just then, Jack rockets down the stairs, throws his backpack over his shoulder, and grabs his lunch off the counter. With a kiss to your cheek, he jets out the door with a quick, “Bye, Mom!”

You blink rapidly, kind of taken aback by the abrupt nature of his departure. He can drive himself to school now, but he doesn’t always take advantage of it.

“Sorry, Em. Jack just left for school like a damn tornado and I gotta get Isaac out of bed.”

She laughs. “No worries. Swing by my office when you drop the girls at preschool. I’ve got a couple of things for Aaron.”

+++

When you return, the house is eerily quiet.

You toe off your shoes and round the corner to the office with an armful of files in your hand.

Unceremoniously, you drop them on his desk. “These are from Emily.”

He huffs a laugh through his nose without looking up. “Thanks.”

With a sly little smile, you leave him to his work.

Padding across the hall to the master bedroom, you light the fireplace and replace your winter clothes with one of his dress shirts, two buttons holding it closed over the middle of your abdomen, and a pair of fuzzy socks.

You’re grateful for the central heating in the house. You’d never be able to pull this off without it.

After you sneak into the kitchen for a glass of water (you know - the ruse of usefulness), you return to him and place the water next to his left hand. He hardly looks up but mutters his thanks under his breath.

You take your time leaving the office, just reaching the door when you hear, “Wait, hey. Whoa. Back up.”

You don’t follow instructions, walking out of his office and into the kitchen, making play at putting lunch together.

A pair of familiar hands slide up your thighs and underneath the shirt.

“Is this mine?”

You hum in the affirmative. “Thought you’d like it. It looks good on you so I figured it would look alright on me.”

“Uh huh. Yeah, well, if those were the rules I’d have to hand over my entire wardrobe.” Aaron spins you and presses you back into the island, your back arching as he crowds closer to you, his mouth hovering over your neck. “You look better in my clothes than I do.”

You hum again, but your brain is too fuzzy to come up with a retort. He laves kisses over your neck, dropping to your collarbone and brushing his shirt off your shoulder. You decide in that moment to let go, relaxing back into the counter and giving him implicit permission to have his way with you.

“Yeah?” He asks, feeling you sink back.

You nod, bringing your hand to his hair and pulling him to your lips. “Yeah.”

With a dark laugh, he turns you around again and snags your hands, pressing them to the cold granite countertop. You’re stretched taut, your legs already shaking with anticipation.

His hands slide up your arms and over your back, the starched fabric of his dress shirt a delicious texture over your skin. He reaches your hips, his hands wandering under the hem of his shirt and hooking his fingers in the fabric of your underwear, practically tearing them over your ass and down your legs. You step out of them and he nudges them out of the way.

He kicks your feet apart at the ankles, spreading your legs and forcing your back into a gentle arch.

A perk of law enforcement training - some moves translate well in the bedroom.

Or the kitchen.

You hear him unbutton his jeans and free himself, not even pretending the last half-hour hasn’t been its own kind of foreplay. An empty house is practically an open invitation at this point.

He runs the head of his cock through your folds, pressing against your clit with every pass. You drop your forehead to the countertop with a whine, letting the cool temperature soothe your heated skin.

Aaron doesn’t quit rutting against your wetness, only just teasing your entrance before sliding up to your clit again. From experience, you know he could theoretically do this for hours, waiting for you to get desperate, squirmy, and whiney.

It’s working. You wiggle back against him, but his hands cover yours with a smack as he shushes you, his hips pressing yours flush against the edge of the counter. You’re sure the granite against you would hurt if it wasn’t so hot.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, low and soft in your ear.

You swallow as his lips wander over your neck and shoulder. “I want you.”

He hums in understanding, sucking bruises along the line of your shoulder blade. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Your answer is breathless, and you shove your fingers between his from underneath, holding on as best you can.

“Do you know how good you look in my shirt and nothing else?”

You nod.

“Do you know what it does to me when you look like that? My wife in my clothes?”

You don’t answer, knowing it’ll only pay off for you. He lets go of your hands and grips your hips, yanking you back toward him. It’s only an inch or so, but you can feel his cock pressed against you, the cold metal buttons against your ass, the coarse feeling of his jeans against the skin of your thighs.

“Do you want me to show you what it does to me? What you do to me?”

You swallow and nod, pressing your chest into the counter, bracing yourself. “Yes.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, plenty slick with your arousal - you’re practically dripping, soaking your thighs and the apex of your legs.

Aaron slams into your heat, all the way to your cervix, with a searing kiss pressed to the middle of your back to smother his groan. You cry out from deep in your chest, drawing it out as he pulls back, dragging against your walls before filling you again, his hips audibly making contact with your ass.

It’s rare you get a chance like this. Even at night, with the kids’ rooms upstairs, you have to be relatively quiet. Aaron, when he really lets go, can get loud, and so can you, with his encouragement. So, needless to say, your opportunities are few and far between.

A steady stream of curses leave him through gritted teeth, watching his own hands pull you onto and push you off of his cock, bottoming out every time.

You’re not even sure what noises you’re making, but there are a lot of them. You unstick your palms from the granite, reaching around to press your fingertips into the part of Aaron’s hip you can find.

He leaves you then, falling out of your reach as he pulls out and turns you around again.

Suddenly, you’re over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

How does he do that?

The smell of his body wash from his morning shower lingers in the air as he brings you into the bedroom, dropping to his knees on the soft rug in front of the lit fireplace.

He supports your shoulders as he tips you backwards, sealing your lips in a searing kiss. Your hands are in his hair, more for the feeling of it than for support.

The plush rug is warm from the fire, a stark contrast to the cool kitchen island. His weight on top of you seems to sink right into your bones, a feeling of safety and love soaking into your skin.

Much to your chagrin, he’s still fully clothed, his pants loose around his hips and his shirt hiked up to his ribs. You find the hem and separate yourself from his mouth only long enough to yank it over his head and throw it toward the bed.

He laughs into his next kisses, but it turns into a sigh as your hands run over his sides, pressing firmly into his waist, before dragging up his back and back into his hair.

“Are you gonna let me go?” He asks against your mouth.

You shake your head. “Don’t wanna.”

He laughs, tipping your head back and peppering kisses to your jaw and neck. “Fine.”

His kisses meander down, nosing a path past the collar and buttons of his shirt on his way to your chest. He pauses at your breasts, drawing patterns with his tongue until you’re taut and puckered under his touch.

His hands follow his mouth, unbuttoning the two buttons you’d done up to play at modesty, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He reaches your hips and scoops your legs onto his shoulders, kissing a path down the creases of your thighs.

When he finally wraps his lips around your clit, your hips buck into him. He laughs, sending a buzz up your spine, and locks your hips in his hands, holding you securely to his mouth.

You resist the urge to bring your hand to your face, letting your whimpers and groans leave you at full volume. One hand finds a home in his hair while the other claws at the carpet. He could probably eat you out in his sleep at this point, what with the way he knows the pace, the pattern, the pressure you like. He’s consistent but never boring, always managing to lull you into a dull hum of pleasure, your legs shaking under his hands, before pulling something that makes you jump and whine.

His warm breath fans across your lower belly, keeping him centered as he flicks his tongue against your clit, dipping lower to your entrance, sliding back. He sucks your inner lips into his mouth, letting them go with obscene, wet pop before pulling your clit back into his mouth, feasting on you like a man starved.

You clench around nothing, desperate for him to fill you with anything, anything to ease the want that courses through you. There might be a moment when you ask for something, but you’re not entirely sure.

He chuckles, a dark and smug sound, but only continues until your center starts to throb, shocking your body with pleasure all the way to your fingertips. Aaron can feel it too, running his hand up your abdomen, reminding you to relax.

You take the note, slowing your breath and relaxing into the floor. Your grip in Aaron’s hair doesn’t budge, tight and close to the root.

He’s determined to get you off with his mouth alone, his fingers digging deeper into your hips to keep himself on track.

The pulse of your walls continues until the tension crawls into the rest of your body. Your shoulders pull away from the rug as your body curls forward, your hips stuttering even under Aaron’s firm grip. Both of your hands wind into his hair and you fall over the edge, chanting his name.

Your upper body twists, your cheek against the plush carpet as you convulse under his continuing ministrations. Your hips are still locked to the floor under his hands, braced by his shoulders and held by his mouth. You can feel his smile as he rides it out with you, backing off on the pressure as pleasure rolls through you in violent, overwhelming waves.

Your jaw seems to be stuck open, your eyes wide as you stare into nothing. Aaron slows, the strokes of his tongue long and drawn-out against the length of your sex, before stopping entirely, pressing a kiss right above your clit.

He crawls up your body, keeping some of his weight on you as he finds your lips again. You’re still boneless, catching your breath, shaking, and experiencing little shockwaves that irregularly catch your abs.

With that in mind, you can hardly kiss him back - instead, passively letting him smother you in affection, vaguely processing the fact you can taste yourself on his tongue. You wrap your ankles around his lower back, and he finally sheds his jeans and boxer briefs.

“You good?” He asks.

You nod. “Mhmm.” You reach between your bodies and stroke him a couple of times. “Gimme.”

He laughs out loud then, kissing you soundly as he slides home.

You whimper into his mouth, your overheated flesh alive with sensation as he rocks into you, nearly frictionless. He holds you tight, his hand splayed across your shoulders underneath the shirt you’re still (somehow) wearing.

You let your mind wander a little, combing through Aaron’s hair with your fingers and tucking your face into his neck.

It’s been ten years with him, almost exactly. You’re a far cry from the person you were then, and you think maybe Aaron is a different man, too.

Not where it counts though. He’ll always be that chronically-stressed, endlessly-dedicated tightass who thinks too much and speaks too little. If anyone asked, he’s still the smartest, warmest man you know. Privately, you know he’s also the dumbest invulnerable moron who ever drew breath.

That makes you laugh, and you wrap your arms further around him. He doesn’t stop, but cranes his neck to look at you.

“What?”

You shake your head, bringing your hands to the sides of his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Just thinking about you.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, his head tilting sardonically to the side as he snaps his hips to yours, making you jump and clench around him. “I’d hope so.”

Flipping onto his back, he pulls you on top of him and has the audacity to wink at you.

The pair of you giggle and laugh your way to your destination. His laughing smothers his curses as he cums, fucking up into you and holding you flush to him by the hips. You follow him by scant seconds, bracing yourself on his chest as you drag out your orgasm, enjoying the rush and the laughter and just being together.

When you both completely run out of steam, you lift yourself off of him and tip sideways, landing flat on your back out on the rug.

This poor thing has seen more use today than in its entire lifetime.

You roll over after a second, propping your head on your elbow. Aaron mirrors you, meeting your eyes.

“That was fun,” he says.

You nod, bringing your hand to the graying hair at his temple. “Don’t get too many chances for this kind of fun anymore, huh?”

He sighs and pulls your hand from his hair, kissing your palm and folding your hand in his. “No, we don’t, but it’s…” He thinks for a moment. “It’s nice to appreciate it more than we used to.”

“Yeah.”

+++

You twist back and forth on the barstool, watching Aaron slice an apple and some strawberries. You both did away with the lunch idea, deciding it was too much work to put something together.

It feels awfully like your first weekend together, the only differences are in the scenery. Even the wardrobe is similar. You’re in the shirt he started in, not much else, and he’s in his jeans, shirtless and barefoot.

It’s nice to see him wandering around with a kind of carelessness. You’re not sure any of the little ones have seen him without a shirt, not for any real length of time that they would remember. He told you once that he doesn’t want to scare them.

You reminded him that this is their normal, too. They’ve never known him without the scars so they’ll always know him with them. The little ones don’t know to be scared.

Still, he’s careful.

It’s a work in progress.

“What were you thinking about before?” He asks, rounding the island. He goes to lean on it, but hesitates. “We have to wipe down the counter.”

You snort and take the plate from him, headed for the living room. “It’s been ten years and you’ve never changed.”

He rolls his eyes and follows you, sitting down in his chair so you can sit in his lap, the plate of fruit on the coffee table. “Is predictable so bad?”

“No,” you reply, your eyebrows raised. “I was just answering your question.”

He huffs a laugh down his nose. “You haven’t changed, either, for the record.”

“Is that a good thing?”

With a smile, he pulls you gently by the side of the head, tucking you under his chin. “It’s a very good thing.” Then, almost inaudibly -

“A great thing.”

+++

tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster @arganfics @angelsbabey @venusbarnes @quillvine @stxrrywildflower @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @hotchslatte @avengersbau @ssareidbby @qvid-pro-qvo @joanofarkansass @popped-weasels @reidtomestyles @crazyshannonigans @iconicc @deagibs @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos @bwbatta @lotties-journey-abroad @ssahotchnerr @unicorn-bitch @capricorngf @zizzlekwum @cevanswhre @this-broken-band-girl @word-scribbless @averyhotchner @reidingmelodies @shesbiochem4 @violet-amxthyst @kelstark@mandylove1000 @sunshine-em @starsandasteroids @roses-and-grasses @ssworldofsw @sunflowersandotherthings @little-blue-fishie @happyvol7 @ssa-holmes @ssahotchner99 @triangularroses @vagabond-ing @itsmytimetoodream @magic_in_the_eyes_of_the_beholder

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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magicforjournals · 3 years

Text

The Green Dress (A Story About Loki)

Chapter 5 - Gravity

This is long overdue and I apologize! I hope you like it !! Taglist is still open :)

—————————————————

Warning : Explicit (18+)

—————————————————

You’re sitting on the couch, giggling, as you’re watching Loki fumble through your cabinets and drawers in the kitchen, looking for a bottle opener for the wine. He had insisted on ordering pizza for you, since the dinner you had prepared for the two of you was no longer edible, and you had agreed it was a great idea.

“Got it!” he says, waving the bottle opener proudly. A wave of desire washes over you again as you watch him walk over to you, his pants falling loosely on his hips, shirt unbuttoned, his perfect body just taunting you.

He plops down on the couch next to you, smiling tenderly, as you brush his hair out of his eyes, no longer combed back. You can’t help but smile, feeling complete with Loki by your side. The pure happiness you felt in his presence was so overwhelming to you, you’d never felt like this before. Without even knowing him that well, you feel like you belonged together, it was almost magnetic, two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together. And as much as you loved this pull between you, it scared you. Terrified you to your very core. And for so many reasons. Loki was… well Loki. He had, in the past, caused so much pain and destruction, to your world, even to you. Granted, you were one of the lucky ones that had not lost family members or friends in the attacks, but you had lost the first home you ever bought. Even though you were never overly materialistic, that loss still stung. But Natasha was right, everyone needed a chance at redemption, and you were not against it. On the contrary, you were a teacher, it was deeply ingrained in you to bring people to see the best in them, to work hard to become a better version of themselves. But, you didn’t want to become a lifeline for him. You didn’t want anyone to depend on you that way. It was different with your students, but Loki was a grown man. In fact, he was a god, from an entirely different world and, you, you were just a simple mortal. How could you make a relationship work? How could you ever measure up to his existence? You just had so many questions, so much was just standing in the balance, too many uncertainties.

“Are you ok?” Loki asks, gently stroking your face and bringing you back to reality.

“Yes,” you smile back at him, pressing your head softly against his touch.

“Would you like some wine?” He offers, handing you a glass.

“Thank you very much.”Nodding slowly.

“Anything for you.” He adds with a wink, making you blush.

“I realize there’s not much we know about each other,” you start, grabbing a slice of pizza, bringing your bare legs under you. After you had finally decided to get out of bed, solely because of your rumbling stomach, you had thrown on the same oversized t-shirt from before and slid on a pair of lace panties.

“Not much indeed, what would you like to know?” Loki answered, his gaze locked on your thick thighs he desperately wanted around his face again.

“I.. uhm… everything?” You chance.

He laughs, your heart swelling at the sound. “We’ll be here for days, my darling,” he replies, stroking your cheek once more, igniting another fire through your stomach.

“I want to get to know you,” you whisper.

Grabbing his own glass of wine, he snuggles in next to you, adjusting his position to face you and resting a gentle hand against your arm. “Well I was raised on Asgard, as you know.” He pauses, hesitates before continuing in a soft voice. “But I was born on Jotunheim, home of the Frost Giants.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage, shocked by the revelation. You had heard of the Frost Giants from Thor’s stories, but you never knew that Loki was one of them. If Thor had ever mentioned it, it certainly wasn’t when you were around. “What happened to your biological parents?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“I know nothing of my birth mother, but my father is Laufey, King of the Frost Giants.” That made sense now that you thought about his last name; Laufeyson. The connection had never occurred to you before. Loki takes a deep breath, “Odin found me when he came to Jotunheim, waging war against the Frost Giants. I had been abandoned in a temple by Laufey, he had deemed me too small and weak to be a Frost Giant and had left me there to die. Odin brought me home and Frigga, my mother, raised me as her own, making sure my Frost Giant appearance remained hidden to others. She did it to ensure my safety. I was a child, and I didn’t understand why she would keep me away from a lot of people, or made sure I didn’t get in trouble, but also treated Thor differently. It was all to keep me safe... I miss her.” He whispers. You knew about the horrible fate Frigga had succumbed to. It had taken quite the toll on Thor, and you couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for Loki to lose his mother. He looks up at you, his beautiful green eyes filled with tears, pain and grief apparent in them. As a single tear falls down his cheek, you realize that this seemingly confident, strong man standing in front of you is still profoundly grieving the only being he truly loved and who truly loved him.

Putting your glass down, you reach over to grab his and set it on the coffee table. Slowly, you climb into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a deep embrace. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you even tighter to his chest, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he sighs softly, whispering a low “thank you” against your skin. Pulling away, Loki cradles your face and gazes into your eyes before kissing you ever so softly. You whimper quietly in his mouth, drawing him closer and tightening your thighs around him. The kiss turns into one steamy and full of passion, every kiss he gives you surpasses the previous ones in intensity. It sends shivers down your spine as he runs his hands up your back and into your hair. You could stay here and kiss him forever. With a sigh, he pulls back gently, a quiet protest escaping your lips as he chuckles at your reaction. Blushing violently, you hide your face in his neck, muttering a sad “sorry”, which only makes him giggle harder.

“It’s okay darling, don’t apologize,” Loki whispers in your hair. “I just have to restrain myself, I could spend hours just tasting you.”

The sound of his deep voice as he whispers those words so close to your ear transforms you into a puddle in his lap and you hope he won’t be saying things like that again, or you’ll soak his pants.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” He asks, running his hand up and down your spine. “All I know is that you’re a teacher and you are friends with the Avengers. I want to know more about you.” He adds, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you turn your head up to meet his eyes.

“My life is pretty boring,” you chuckle. “Is there anything you want to know?”

Loki smiles at you and cradles your face. “I want to know everything.” You laugh before he adds, “why don’t we just start with your favorite food?”

“Uhmmm tough one…” you answer. “I really love sushi, it became my favorite when I moved to the city. But, my mother’s lasagna will probably always be my favorite.”

“You’ll have to make it for me then!” He says, all smiles.

“I would mess it up ! No, no way!”

“Well then, we’ll have to practice to make the perfect lasagna won’t we?” He says, playing with your hair. There’s that we again, you think.

“It’ll take years.” You chance, waiting to see what his answer will be.

“That’s okay.”

“What’s your favorite food?” You ask. “Is it some dish from Asgard?”

“No actually. It might shock you, but I love human food a lot more than Asgardian food.”

“There’s no way Loki!” You laugh. “How can our food be better than Asgardian food?”

“I don’t know,” he replies softly. “It just is. I absolutely love your food! And I do have a preference for pizza, if you couldn’t tell.” He adds, pointing to the box on the coffee table.

Laughter fills the room as you both sit up to grab a slice of pizza. You eat in silence for a little while, just basking in each other’s presence. Once you finish your slices, you lean back down against his chest, cuddling up in his lap.

“Can I ask you another question?” Loki whispers in your ear.

“Mmmhmm,” you nod softly.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 26,” you answer simply, shrugging your shoulders. “How old are you? I mean, do gods even age?”

“Yes”, Loki chuckles. “I do age, just extremely slower than humans... “ Pause. Hesitation? “I was born in 965 A.D.”

“WHAT?!” You shoot up in his lap as if someone had shocked you. “You were born in 965 A.D.?! But that would make you…” Your nose scrunches up as you’re trying to figure out how old Loki really was.

“1054 is the number you’re looking for,” he answers you. 1054 years old… that is… too many lifetimes.

“How… How does that translate in human years?” You whisper, still profoundly confused.

Loki sets you down gently on the couch next to him, and covers you up in the blanket you had discarded while climbing into his lap. “Well, it’s hard to really know how old I am in human years. Asgardians live for approximately 5000 years.” An audible wheeze escapes your lips as you take that in. Loki would outlive you. He would also forget you. “However,” he adds, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m not Asgardians, and I’m unsure on how fast the Frost Giants age. If I were to take a guess, based on my knowledge and research about my origins, I would say that I should be around 28 years old. But it’s really hard to tell, after all I’m younger than Thor by almost 500 years, and he would only be 25 years old.” You shake your head, trying to make sense of all the information that was just thrown at you. Thor was older, but acted - and was - only 25. Did that mean that technically, Loki was even more immature than his brother sometimes? He said he should be around 28, but was he really? Age was never really a big concern of yours. Obviously too young or too old wasn’t ok, but Loki was ancient.

“Does my age bother you?” Loki asks, and his worried tone snaps you back to reality.

“Oh!” you gasp yet again. “No… Not really. At least I don’t think so.” You answer honestly. “I thought you were older, but 1054 just took me by surprise... God, you’re really old Loki!” You say, laughing loudly.

“Yeah I know, my back’s been killing me lately too!” Loki says, following you in your laughter.

You keep laughing as you rest your head on his shoulder. What were you expecting? That he was the same age as you while he comes from a different planet and is a literal deity?

“If there is anything that bothers you about my origins, you would tell me, right darling?” Loki asks after your laughing spurt.

“Yes, of course.” You reply. There was so much you wanted to ask him about where he thought this - you two - was going, how he felt about you, but it was too early for that. You’d only kissed him a handful of times and had slept with him on an impulse. Not that you regretted it, no, never, but it was too early to think of you two as anything else than what you were in the present moment.

You shuffle around on the couch as Loki bends over to grab a slice of pizza and your wine glass, which he hands you. “Could I ask you a couple more questions about your life?” He asks politely.

You giggle as you nod your head.

“Tell me about your family,” he says.

You cuddle up next to him as you tell him about your younger sister and brother, how your parents are still as much in love as the day they met, how your entire family; aunts, uncles and grandparents, are all tightly knit. You tell him how your family is one of the most important parts of your life, how they have always supported you in any decisions you made. You start giggling as you tell him that your parents had even supported your decision of nursing a baby bird, that had fallen out of its nest, back to health when you were about 9 years old. Your mother had no idea how to properly feed a bird that young, or even what to feed it, but it didn’t stop her from doing research and helping you get that little baby back to its parents.

“You are so loving and compassionate,” Loki says, in a soft voice while staring at you with loving eyes. “I’m certain that you are an amazing teacher.”

“I truly hope so. I only want what’s best for my students.”

“I am positive that you are the best teacher out there. I’m curious, what made you decide to become a teacher?” He asks.

“I-I’m not sure... “ you answer. “I always knew that I wanted to help people. I could have become a nurse or a firefighter… but for some reason, teaching was always my calling. I used to help my siblings and the kids in the neighbourhood with their homework every week when I was younger. I guess I just always thought of myself as a teacher.” You add, shrugging.

Loki puts a gentle hand on your cheek, turning your face towards his and giving the softest and most passionate kiss yet. “You are truly amazing,” he whispers against your lips. A goofy smile spreads across your face as he praises you.

“What about you, always wanted to be a trickster,” you ask, winking at him.

“Oh, you think you’re funny! I should change you into a frog.”

“Oh my God no, please have mercy Loki, please!” You plead, moving away from him as quickly as you can.

“Too late!” He grabs you by the ankles and pulls you back towards him, trapping you in his arms. “Now you’re my prisoner, however, maybe I should keep you like this, I like you better as a human.” “What a compliment, O mighty Loki.” You tease him.

He starts laughing, as he pulls you in closer.

“You know, in the past, I would’ve given anything to hear people call me that... Not anymore.” He says, stroking your cheek. “You know... I regret my actions. I’ve come to the realization, in the last couple of years, that power was my way to feel retaliate. I thought that if I had power, I could be important, people would notice me like they noticed my brother. I was really angry with everyone, with the world, for what had happened to me as a child. I didn’t realize that my mother had tried to protect me, a baby that was brought to her quite unexpectedly. I was angry with Odin for treating me differently. I was angry with Laufey for abandoning me. I was angry with Thor for always seeming so perfect…” Loki pauses, taking a deep breath. “It wasn’t until after my mother’s death and I took my father’s throne,” he offers you a crooked, apologetic smile, “that I truly realized that power wasn’t what I thought it was, it wasn’t happiness. I had lost my mother, and I could never tell her how truly grateful I was that she had taken me in, loved me and raised me as her own. I have made my peace with my father and my brother, and I have been working relentlessly to make up for my past actions… But I know that trust, once broken, isn’t easily fixed.”

“You know,” you say, taking his face between your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Everyone is deserving of a second chance.”

“But what happens if they mess up their second chance?” He whispers between your hands.

“Third time’s a charm,” you shrug. “I used to be angry at you Loki... for attacking the city, destroying homes… my home. B-”

“I destroyed your home?!” he interrupts you, sitting up quickly, pushing you to the edge of his lap. “How.. When.. I-I’m so sorry.” He adds, tears slowly filling up his eyes.

“It’s ok. I mean, I’m over it now… I think at the time it was harder because it was the first home I had ever purchased. But I had just moved in, barely any of my things were there. So I didn’t lose everything.” Loki looks at you in horror, you can see the pain in his eyes as you tell him how his attacks on the city affected you.

“I should leave,” he says, trying to lift you off of him, as you repeat over and over again that it’s ok. “You should not be here with me, I’ve hurt you. You should be angry with me. Why are you not angry with me?!”

“Loki,” you say, your tone firm, grabbing his face between your hands again. “It’s in the past. The house, it was just wood, something that can be rebuilt. I’m ok, my belongings are ok, I didn’t lose anything that was extremely important to me. A house is just a house.”

“No, it was your home.” He whispers, avoiding your eyes.

“You’re wrong,” you tell him softly, his eyes darting back up to meet yours. “My home is wherever and with whoever I choose it to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki says quickly before bringing your face to his and kissing you passionately. He keeps kissing you with more and more passion, whispering soft “sorrys” as his hands make his way up to your hair, fingers getting lost.

You moan softly as you bring yourself closer to him, slowly grinding your hips along his lap. He wraps one arm around your waist and pulls you in tight, deepening your kiss. You can feel him getting harder under you, pushing gently against you and making you so wet. In one quick movement, you’re on your back on the couch, Loki towering above you.

“I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you,” he says softly. “I know I can’t make it up to you, but I need you to know that I will try. I will beg for your forgiveness if that’s what it takes. You are important to me. I don’t know why, but I can’t stay away from you, I can’t stop thinking about you. I need to be close to you.” He adds before kissing you again, almost desperately this time, making you moan. You want him, you want all of him. You were mad, you were upset, but what’s past is past. And Loki seems genuinely sorry about his past, and you believe in second, even third chances. And right now, you just want his lips, his hands on you.

You wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses you, pulling him closer, needing his body against yours. Loki moves his lips to your neck, sliding his hands down the length of your body, grabbing your thigh tightly, a moan escaping your lips. You grind your hips up to meet him, rubbing against his erection. You want him inside of you, you want to feel him pulsing and throbbing as he makes love to you. Slowly, his hand that was groping your thigh moves to the inside of it, making its way to your panties. You feel him run a painfully slow finger along the lace of it, right over your needy clit and you gasp, begging him to just touch you. Pushing the fabric to the side, Loki starts drawing little circles around your clit as you pump your hips up, trying to get the friction you desperately need. He chuckles as he starts rubbing faster, and then he slides a long finger inside of your soaking folds, replacing his finger on your clit with his thumb. Catching your lips again, trapping your moans in your throat, he starts pumping his finger, getting faster and faster before he adds a second finger, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck Loki, I’m gonna cum,” you moan out.

“Cum for me darling, cum around my fingers.” He groans at you.

His words alone push you over the edge and you whimper loudly as you cum all over his fingers, walls clenching down around him, your body shaking from your orgasm.

“Such a good girl,” Loki says, bringing his fingers to his mouth, tasting you.

With shaky legs, you stand up, stripping out of your shirt and soaked underwear. He looks at you with hungry eyes, devouring every inch of your body. He watches you as you kneel down between his legs, undoing his pants and sliding them off. His dick is bulging under his boxers and your mouth waters at the sight of it. Slowly, you reach for it, rubbing your hand along the length of it, Loki’s moan escaping his lips. He lifts his butt up for you to slide off his boxers, releasing his throbbing cock. Grabbing it in your hand, you stroke him slowly, licking the tiny bead of precum pearling at the tip, before licking the length of him, making him groan under your touch. Standing up, you straddle him on the couch, lining him up with your soaking cunt. Gripping your hips, Loki gently pulls you down on him, his thick cock filling you beautifully. You stay there for a second, savoring the feeling of each other, before you start to ride him slowly. Leaning his head back on the back of the couch, he moans as he grips your hips tighter, letting you ride him at your own pace. Leaning down to kiss his neck, you grind your hips on him, making him growl under you. You begin to ride him faster, harder, bouncing on his lap as his dick hits that spot inside of you that you didn’t know existed until tonight and you feel yourself getting closer as you ride him.

“F-Fuck, you’re so big Loki.” You moan, grinding your hips, looking for some kind of friction on your clit to get you off.

“Don’t talk like that, I- I won’t last.” He replies, his hand dipping in between the two of you, thumb starting to rub tight circles around your clit as if he understood your grinding.

“Oh fuck Loki!” You scream as his digit meets your tiny ball of nerves.

“I-I’m so close, don’t stop.”

Gripping your hips tighter with one hand and rubbing faster with the other, Loki brings you to your fourth orgasm of the night. You let out a choked out scream as you cum all over his dick, walls again clamping around him, and milking him as he cums with you. Slowly, you ride out your orgasms, holding each other close. Loki cups your face as your body starts shaking, and kisses you gently.

“You are amazing,” he whispers against your lips.

“I could say the same about you,” you whisper back. “However, I now need a shower.” You add giggling.

“I will take my leave then, give you some privacy.”

You flutter around him before any words leave your lips and he smiles at you, feeling you clench. “I don’t want you to leave.” You say.

“Alright darling, I won’t leave until you ask me to.” He answers, stroking your cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Getting off of him and walking to your bathroom, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. Loki follows close behind and wraps his bare arms around your waist as you turn the shower on. Showering together, you keep teasing one another, lathering soap up excruciatingly slow, lingering touches, soft kisses. There’s a moment where he freaks out, turning almost hysteric, as he rubs soap between your legs, realizing that he came inside of you twice tonight. With a laugh, you reassure him that you’re on birth control and there’s very little possibility you’ll get pregnant. He let out the biggest sigh ever, telling you he should’ve been more careful regardless because he didn’t want to upset your life.

When you step out of the shower, you notice the clock for the first time that night and gasp at how late it is. Following your gaze, Loki apologizes for taking up so much of your time.

“Don’t you dare apologize, tonight was amazing.” You say, getting up on the tip of your toes to kiss him.

Wrapping his arms around you again, Loki kisses you back before whispering how the thought of leaving you tonight pains him.

“Stay,” you whisper back.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“Yes.”

As you lay in your bed, Loki’s arms wrapped around you, you can’t help but feel at peace. You’ve never felt this happy before, never felt like you truly belonged somewhere. But in Loki’s arms, you feel complete and slowly, you drift off to sleep.

———

The sun coming through your window and warming up your face is what wakes you up the following morning. Loki’s arms are still around you and you can’t help but stare at his angelic face. His black hair all in disarray from sleeping with wet hair, his face relaxed with sleep, you could look at him forever. Glancing over his shoulder, you see that your alarm clock is showing 7:45am. You overslept! Classes start in an hour, and you need to be at school before 8:30.

“Loki,” you say, gently shaking him awake. “Loki, we need to get up. We overslept, I’m gonna be late for work.”

“Mmmm…?” He groans at first. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“Stop apologizing,” you laugh. “Just get your butt out of my bed.”

“Yes ma’am!” He says, shooting up and running to the living room to put his clothes on.

Rushing to your closet, you throw on your favorite dress with a pair of nylons and knee high boots before putting your hair in a bun and wiping the mascara from under your eyes. Thankfully, your makeup from the night prior wasn’t really smudged and was therefore acceptable for you to wear at work. Grabbing your glasses, you walk out to your living room to see Loki by the front door, with your bags in hand and a banana plucked from your kitchen counter along with your to-go coffee mug. You see the coffee machine is shutting off after use.

“Breakfast,” he says, waving the banana at you. “I’m driving you to school, so you can drink your coffee and eat.”

“Loki, you don’t have to.”

“I insist, you’re late because of me.” He argues. “Let’s go now!”

You giggle as you grab your coat and keys, locking your door and making your way to his car. The ride to school isn’t a long one and you chomp down your banana while he sings along to the music on the radio, making you smile.

As he pulls up in the parking lot, he tugs on your shirt, pulling you in for a soft kiss. Sighing against his lips, you wish you could stay with him all day. Loki gets out of the car and walks around to the passenger side to open your door.

Extending his hand to you, he helps you out of the car, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. “Can I see you again tonight?” He asks, flashing you that smile that makes your inside twist.

“Not tired of me yet?” You giggle in his arms. “I would love to see you again tonight, but it’s test day today, which means I’ll have about 60 copies to grade tonight. My coffee machine will be working all night.” You add.

“How about I come to cook you an amazing dinner, which I promise won’t burn this time,” he winks at you. “I just want to make sure you eat a proper meal. I’ll leave afterwards if you don’t want me to stay, I promise.” He proposes.

“Uhmmmm….” You reply. “That does sound tempting. Pick me up at 4 then?”

“It’s a date darling.” Loki says, leaning forward to kiss your lips softly.

He grabs your bags out of the back seat and kisses you once more before letting you go. As you walk away, you feel an emptiness settle in the pit of your stomach. You can’t help but turn around to see Loki standing, driver side door open, watching you walk away from him. The way he’s looking at you, adoration in his eyes, makes you want to run back to him. This feeling between you, this attraction, this need to be with the other, it’s as if gravity itself was pulling you towards each other. Unexplainably, you knew, at that moment, that he was your world now, and you were his.

@kingtwhiddleston

#loki x reader #loki x you #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#loki smut #marvel #marvel fanfic series #mcu #Avengers #tom hiddleston #reader insert #the green dress #green dress a story about loki

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hearts-hunger · 3 years

Text

querida || javier peña x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Javi wants to take you on a little roadtrip before the sun comes up, and you two might just have to make a habit of enjoying more mornings like this.

Pairings: Javier Peña x wife!Reader

Genre: fluff and smut, very soft giggly married lovemaking

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: smut & me not being a spanish speaker (please let me know if i’ve gotten anything wrong!)

A/N: Yeah, you guessed it, I’m caught hook, line, and sinker for Pedro Pascal and all his characters. I know for a fact that Javier Peña is fully incapable of sleeping with a woman and not catching feelings, and that goes double when he makes love to his wife. If you’re an older follower of mine sticking through my new hyperfixation, thank you! I hope y’all enjoy ♡

It had just started to rain, gently pattering against the windows whose curtains were closed against the sunrise that was still hours away. Javier hovered over you and kissed you with a persistent kind of gentleness, waking you slowly and easily in the darkness of your bedroom.

“Rise and shine, pretty lady,” he said softly, brushing your hair back from your face. You turned your face away from him as he tried to kiss you again, and he chuckled.

“Come on, mi amor,” he said gently. “I’m trying to be sweet to you.”

“Let me sleep, if you’re so sweet,” you mumbled, moving closer to him despite yourself, wanting his warmth. He pulled you close and kissed your neck, grazing his fingers over your shoulder.

“Do you have to leave for work already?” you asked. It seemed early to you, but you were too drowsy to look at the clock.

“Not yet, but I do have to be in early today,” he said. “And I probably won’t be back until late. So I thought it would be nice to see you before I left.”

You thought that was sweet, and you nuzzled against him and tried to be a little more awake and attentive. You kissed his jaw and put your arm over his waist.

“What do you think about taking a little drive?” he asked.

You pulled back from him and looked up at his face. “A drive? Now?”

He smiled. “Yeah. I know this great place we can go and watch the sun rise.”

You groaned a little at the thought of getting out of bed and hid your face against his chest.

“Oh, come on now,” he said with a laugh, pulling you close again. “It’ll be nice, I promise. I’ll drop you off before I head to work, and you can sleep in all day while I’m gone.”

You could tell this was something he wanted to do with you, and your time together had seemed so sparse and unhappy lately that you couldn’t say no. He had been so stressed and tired with work that most of the time you were together was either spent sleeping or bickering, and you’d missed your happy Javier. Getting up early from your nice warm bed was a small price to pay for how much you would both enjoy spending a few hours together before the sun came up.

“What do you think?” he asked.

You gave a dramatic sigh. “Oh, well, if you insist.”

He grinned and gave you a deeper kiss then, pulling the blankets off both of you. You dressed quickly in the early morning cool of the apartment, and Javi surprised you with a fresh pot of coffee he’d put on before he woke you up. Before long you were curled up in the passenger seat of the Jeep, holding your husband’s free hand as he drove out of the city and towards the mountains. The drizzle continued to fall, mixing with the sound of Javi’s quiet humming along with the Jim Croce greatest hits cassette he always kept playing in his car.

You talked through the whole drive, both of you catching the other up on work and life in general. You really hadn’t seen him very often in the past two weeks - Javi and Steve with both running themselves ragged trying to keep up with Escobar, and you and Connie had been busy volunteering. You were thankful for a friend who understood what you were going through, and you hoped Steve and Connie would get some time soon to just be with each other like you and Javi were now.

When you reached the spot Javi had decided on, a small clearing beneath the limbs of a few Andean oak trees that overlooked a beautiful expanse of mountains, the sky had started to turn the slightest shade of blue. He turned the car off and you sat in companionable silence for a moment, looking out on the natural beauty of the place that had been so hard for the both of you to live in.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” he said, his voice characteristically soft. “All that trouble going on every single day, and it looks like a paradise from up here.”

You reached your hand up to brush your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy your touch, leaning closer and turning his head just enough to press a gentle kiss to your wrist.

“I miss you,” he said.

You touched the pad of your thumb to the crow’s feet that came from his laughter, that contagious, genuine sound that had come to be your very favorite in the world. “I miss you too.”

He leaned across the console and kissed you for a long time, every touch loving and tender and full of care. He grazed his fingers over your cheek, your temples, the place where your pulse beat in time with his. At some point you decided the small distance between you was too much; you awkwardly made your way to straddle his lap, both of you giggling like teenagers when you bumped your head on the roof and he struggled to get the seat to move back. Settled again, your bodies pressed against each other and you felt a spark with each touch that grew into a warm and comfortable desire, familiar with just how much you loved and wanted your husband.

When you broke apart after a while, he looked up at you and gave you an impossibly tender smile.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he said. “Next time, I’ll try to plan something a little more coordinated with your sleep schedule.”

You gave a soft laugh. “That’s ok, honey. I’m actually glad you dragged me out of bed before the crack of dawn to make out with me in a government car.”

“Oh, dragged you out of bed, huh?” he said with a laugh. “I must have imagined all that kissing and sweet-talking, then.”

“I know, it was such a chore,” you said in a pitying voice. You traced his features with a gentle touch, feeling the lines that life’s sorrows and joys had etched into his beloved face. “Poor Javier, having to kiss his wife to get her to wake up.”

You grinned as he pressed his mouth to yours again, proving that kissing you was not a chore to him in the least. He fumbled with the buttons on his plaid you were borrowing, just enough to let him kiss the top of your breasts.

“So, honey...” he said against your neck. “What’s the verdict on pre-dawn car sex?”

You laughed and felt his smile against your skin. “Wouldn’t that be a way to start off your work day?”

“A fun way,” he assured you. “A very nice way, considering all I’m doing for the good people of Colombia.”

You let him unbutton your shirt all the way down and weren’t really surprised when he didn’t take it off of you, preferring the way his big shirt hung loosely on your frame. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra, mostly because you didn’t feel like putting one on, but he grinned like the Cheshire cat as if you’d planned it all along.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, with all the sincerity in the world.

He pressed kisses all over your chest, leaving light love marks on your breasts with a tender sort of possessiveness. He was a protective man, and the dangerous nature of life in Colombia had proved very hard for him to adjust to when it came to you. He made sure everyone who came into contact with you knew you were under his care, and anyone who hurt you would have him to answer to. Javier was the only thing that made you feel safe on nights when gunfire rang through the streets; you could have a whole army of bodyguards and defense details assigned to you, but the only thing that would ever make you feel truly safe was knowing Javi would move heaven and earth to protect you if need be.

He murmured to you in Spanish as he continued to kiss you, each world a lullaby you couldn’t translate but still understood. He helped you shimmy out of your shorts, not without a few soft laughs, and put his big hands on your hips as you started to slowly move against him.

“Wait, wait,” you said, a little breathless. He stilled and looked up at you, his expression a little dazed.

“What is it?” he asked.

You gestured to his clothes. “Your work clothes,” you said. “You can’t show up all... crumpled.”

He breathed a laugh. “No problem, honey,” he said, his hands resuming their wandering. “I brought a change of clothes, just in case.”

“Had it all planned out, hm?” you teased.

He hummed in agreement. “Just the part where I got to be with you, querida.”

He rubbed circles against your hips as you moved against him, kissing you deeply like he would never tire of it. You ran your hands over his shoulders before you had the presence of mind to tug open his nice starched button down, and you kissed every inch of his warm, tanned skin you could reach.

With the ease of having handled you well for years, his hand moved between you to rub your clit, the pressure making you draw in a sharp breath.

“Javi,” you breathed. You felt every ridge on the back of his hand as he pushed your panties aside to tease at your entrance; you rolled your hips against his knuckles, wanting him deeper.

He fingered you slowly, your breaths quickening together. He let you set the pace as you rode his fingers and crumpled the shoulders of his work shirt in your fists. His strong, calloused fingers and desperate, stolen kisses quickly brought you to the edge; he murmured words of praise as you breathed his name and gave a choked moan.

“Oh, Javi, ‘m gonna cum,” you whined.

“Go on, mi amor,” he said, his baritone warm with pleasure. “Cum on my fingers for me.”

His fingers curled inside you and drew something like a whimper from your throat, your orgasm crashing over you so strongly it almost surprised you. You rode out your orgasm on his fingers, digging your nails into his shoulders as he took great care to draw it out as long as possible.

“Good girl,” he praised, your breaths never quite leaving the space between you. “So good for me. Mi vida, mi corazón.”

Your hands moved down his torso until you were fumbling with his belt buckle, feeling how hard he was, wanting him to feel as good as you did. You tried your best to palm him - car sex had its drawbacks, and one of them was not being able to touch him a easily as you wanted to - but he seemed to like it just fine. He groaned and pulled your hips down closer, raising his own a little to meet you.

“Hold on, baby - ” He made short work of his belt and zipper, the desperate sound of them making you blush despite yourself as he pushed his jeans and boxers down. As hungry as he was, he settled you on his cock with a very tender, deliberate slowness; he gave you a second to adjust to him and both of you were still for a moment, breathless with the feeling of him filling you up.

“Javi,” you said softly. The windows were foggy as the rain continued to fall; his skin was lit in the gentle blue light of early morning, his curls mussed and his eyes meeting yours with a devotion and adoration that would never fail to take your breath away.

“Querida,” he said. “I love you.”

You didn’t know what to do with how much you loved him. You didn’t feel like you could ever truly express it; it was too much, too much a part of you. You gave him a stupid grin that he found more charming than anything else you could have done, and you felt him smile as you kissed him with patience and the surety of a woman who would spend the rest of her life loving him.

The cassette switched tracks to play your favorite song, the one Javi had playing the first time he told you he loved you. “Every time I tried to tell you, the words just came out wrong - so I’ll have to say I love you in a song.” Javi sang it to you all the time, and you felt it was only fitting that it was playing now as you started to move your hips against his.

Javi tried to go slow, drawing out his strokes as much as he could, but he’d been waiting patiently and you wanted to see the look on his face as you made him come undone. You angled your hips so his thrusts went deeper, carding your hands through his curls and tugging a little like you knew drove him crazy. He rocked his hips against yours and hit the spot that made you gasp and tighten around him; he groaned and pressed his face to your chest, his unsteady breaths warm on your skin.

“God, I love you,” he said in a tight voice, splaying his big hand over your back and keeping the other firmly on your hip. “Love you wearing my shirt. Love you riding me at five in the morning.”

You couldn’t help a choked laugh as he reached between you to circle your clit in time with his thrusts, certain he’d meant to amuse you and pleasure you at the same time, which was one of his greatest talents. You felt another orgasm cresting like a wave between your hips as he continued his dedicated lovemaking.

“Javi, baby,” you almost pleaded. One hand tangled in his hair while the other held his shoulder in a bruising grip. “God, don’t stop. Oh, I’m almost - ”

“Me too,” he managed. He kissed your jaw as he gave a particularly skillful thrust that made you give a sinful moan.

“Cum with me,” he said against your mouth. He gave you a deep, breath-stealing kiss. “Please, baby.”

You couldn’t have argued with him if you wanted to, and you leaned your head back and moaned in pleasure as he drew you over the edge, tightening around him as waves of your orgasm rolled over you. A string of curses tumbled from his mouth as he came deep inside you, giving you a final few thrusts that made you gasp with the delicious sting of almost too much pleasure.

He mumbled something in Spanish as he rested his head against your chest, pulling you as close to him as you could get. You gave a soft laugh and brushed your fingers through his hair.

“English, please,” you teased gently.

He chuckled and gave your chest a few trailing kisses before he looked up at you.

“Me has robado el corazón, mi amor,” he said. He tucked your hair behind your ear. “You have stolen my heart.”

You leaned your head against his and felt happier and more at peace than you had in a long time.

“I love you, Javi,” you said. You pulled back just enough to see his face. “What’s that thing you always say to me? The orange thing?”

He laughed then, sweet and genuine.

“Eres mi media naranja,” he said. “You’re the other half of my orange. My soulmate.”

You smiled. “Yeah, that’s the one. Eres mi media naranja, Javi.”

He gave you a kiss the way you best loved them, chaste and sweet and tender.

“And you’re mine, querida.”

i’m not tagging anybody from my forever list, because i don’t know if y’all signed up for me falling head over heels for pedro pascal ;) let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for him!

(actually, that’s a lie. i’m tagging @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl and @punkgeekchic because they’re legally obligated to know about every fic i write, and besides, they might like it ♡)

#y'all can have a little javi smut on new years eve...... as a treat #i think it's cute and sweet :)#let me know what you think!#and if you want me to write more for him ;)#javier pena x reader #narcos #javier peña #javier pena x reader fluff #javier pena x reader smut #wife!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #maddie writes stuff!

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed - Episode 02

Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes!

(Masterpost ) (Previous Episode) (Next Episode)

Donkey Riding

way ho and away we go, donkey riding donkey riding way ho and away we go, riding on a donkey

Wei Wuxian and Apple are doing their best for the Ministry of Culture and Tourism.

Xiao Zhan had trouble riding the donkey sitting side-saddle, so the Department of Questionable Practical Effects made him a fake leg to wear while riding regular style.

Can you spot it? It’s very hard to spot. It is very convincing.

Simple Pleasures

Wei Wuxian takes his time wandering up the nearest mountain, and half of the cultivators in the land also wander up this mountain because...Night Hunting! The cultivators are hot and thirsty from walking because they forgot that they all know how to fly.

Wei Wuxian relaxes by a well and listens to people stanning him.

Also

I’m going to say it: Wei Wuxian never met a drinking vessel he couldn’t blow.

Everything is Beautiful at the Ballet

The actress who plays A-Yan is named Zhang Linran. She probably has studied dance since she was 4 and now she gets her big break which turns out to be feeding an apple to a donkey. So let’s pause for a second to look at how beautifully she moves.

Reunions are Awkward, Part 1

Wei Wuxian meets up with one of his family members and it goes super well.

I...like Jin Ling? He’s much less of a douchebag than his dad, his uncles Jin, Jiang, and Mo (the three stooges), and every damn one of his Jin cousins. He’s genuinely brave (his Dad’s primary good quality) and his hair is on fleek. He’s still a whiny diaper baby, but I like him.

(much more after the cut!)

Then Jiang Cheng shows up, looking fine as hell and radiating peak arrogant-prick energy.

When he discovers that ‘Mo Xuanyu” stuck a piece of paper to Jin Ling, he tells the child to literally murder him. Excellent uncleing! A+++++ would recommend.

“In fact, literally murder anyone who uses Yiling Laozu’s tools, like talismans, lure flags, or spirit compasses - basically murder everyone in the Lan Clan plus those other fanboys we saw coming up the hill. Then get out there and make some friends, goddamn it!”

These nets full of cultivators on this daytime night hunt are the only time we ever see anything in a net during a night hunt. In fact dudes constantly go night hunting and the only prey we ever see is rock lady, murder turtle, and a couple of rag mops in the lake.

You Are Not Qualified to Speak to Me

Also radiating arrogant-prick energy on this occasion is Lan Wangji. He has been using pettiness as a weapon since long before he met this Jiang Cheng turkey, and he *brings it* when Jiang Cheng tries to have a conversation with him.

Letting your eyes wander everywhere except to his punchable face while you ignore his passive-aggressive questions? Quality work.

Dropping a silence spell on his child and then letting your own child explain it to him? Golden.

Lan Wangji is never ever going to forgive Jiang Cheng for what he did on cliff day, and his silence here is as pointed as an ice pick. I suspect the last words Lan Wangji actually spoke to him were “Jiang Wanyin, stop it,” sixteen years ago.

Jiang Cheng is actually the bigger person in this particular interaction, visibly mastering his temper and telling Jin Ling to take his medicine.

Reflecting

Wei Wuxian hangs out by a beautiful river and hallucinates for a while. River Jiang Yanli is nurturing and River Jiang Cheng is pissed off, so there are no surprises there. River Jiang Cheng thinks that Wei Wuxian is a promise-breaking douchebag. He’s not exactly wrong.

Courtesy of convenient gossiping cultivators, Wei Wuxian discovers that the 16 year old arrogant kid from the Jin clan who his brother from the Jiang clan has custody of is actually and quite obviously Jin Rulan.

Well fuck I guess now I care about something, that’s inconvenient.

Needing to help parent the child of the sister who parented him is what draws Wei Wuxian fully into his new life.

As soon as he has this realization, Apple comes back from roaming around, and never gives him any trouble after this for the rest of the story. Which...probably doesn’t mean anything.

Wen Gravesite

Does Wen Ning hang out here because it’s where he and his (dead) people came from? Oh great, now I am sad.

Judging by all the leaves on this grave thingy I’m going to say that this grave tender dude is, ah, not very good at his job.

Get him, Jingyi!

I feel like maybe we all focus too much on how Lan Jingyi is so hilarious and sardonic and not enough on how he is a such a biscuit.

Soul Grass

As mentioned in the previous post, Chinese spiritual concepts don’t always translate well into English. Soul grass? Sure, why not.

This is where Wei Wuxian’s Sherlock Holmes brain starts to work, although he still doesn’t remember really basic stuff about Dafan Mountain. Dying and changing bodies is rough on the old neurochemistry. This creates more opportunities for flashbacks, however, and if there’s one thing The Untamed deffo needs more of, it’s kissing flashbacks.

Temple Statue

Presumably grave-tender dude is also in charge of clearing away spiderwebs at the temple, because it’s not getting done.

Jin Ling walks into the temple blaspheming at full volume.

Since this isn’t a Greek story, he isn’t immediately struck blind for this. Then when he wishes for the statue to come alive, it obligingly does. Everything’s coming up Rulan!

Wei Wuxian shows up to rescue all the kids by throwing talismans at the monster which does not tip anyone off to who he is.

Baby Cultivator Babysitting

Lan Wangji chills out in the cultivators’ pavilion with Jiang Cheng and their mutual hate boners.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian forgets all about his nephew and turns into cool professor guy, explaining the basics of soul-eating to the baby cultivators and gleefully encouraging their fear of Hanguang-Jun’s punishments.

Because the Lan babies are good filial children they are super respectful and engaged with this random adult who is lecturing them. They also - like their own Hanguang-Jun at their age - see and admire Wei Wuxian’s intellect. It’s easy to forget how extremely smart Wei Wuxian is, because of how extremely dumb Wei Wuxian is.

Lan Jingyi suddenly figures out Wei Wuxian is not crazy.

Bis. Kit.

Then Rock Lady shows up and Jin Ling sticks 6 arrows into her while Lans Jingyi and Sizhui stand around not bothering to draw their swords.

I see a lot of comments about the bad effects in the statue sequences but I think Rock Lady is all right. The figure animation is decent and the lighting is no worse on her than on everything else in the scene. Her hair is nice, for a rock person.

Admittedly I just finished watching Guardian which has CGI monsters so bad they may have injured my retinas and possibly also my DNA, so the bar, for me, is pretty low. Rock lady clears it with room to spare.

Note: Wei Wuxian’s flute playing does zippity towards controlling the statue. Not sure what his plan was here.

Wen Ning Kicks Ass

Now we get to meet Wen Ning, who appears to be a stone-cold badass. Later we will discover how hilariously inaccurate that assessment is.

While all versions of Wen Ning are delightful, this version of Wen Ning is also...strangely attractive? He’s got a Patti-Smith-Horses-Era vibe here, instead of his more usual lost-baby-dork vibe. And his dreamy “I have nails in my head” expression is intriguing.

I mean, he’s not a total snack like zombie Song Lan or pre-zombie Song Lan or blind Song Lan or post-zombie Song Lan, but this look is a good one for Wen Ning, is what I’m saying.

Reunions are Awkward, Part 2

Lan Wangji, who has 99% already recognized Wei Wuxian because of the haunted sword and the fierce jawline and beautiful neck and tiny tiny waist, is summoned by his flute playing as inexorably as the Ghost General was.

Jiang Cheng also recognizes Wei Wuxian and goes into full beatdown mode, thwarted (silently) by Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian attempts to preserve his incognito by sassing Jiang Cheng in as sibling-like a manner as possible.

Hanguang-Jun’s Pro-Ghost Agenda Has Been Clear for Some Time

This Jiang/Lan fight is hilarious when you consider the implications.

Macroexpression vs. Microexpression

Mo Xuanyu brought Wei Wuxian back using sacrifice summons, a dark ritual invented by Wei Wuxian that he, most likely, did NOT show to Lan Wangji back in the day. So it’s a pretty safe bet that Lan Wangji doesn’t know that Wei Wuxian was gifted a body, rather than stealing one.

when your brother turns around, you must whip him you will never live it down unless you whip him

When Jiang Cheng lets loose with Zidian, it’s not just because he’s angry. He’s using purple power to force Wei Wuxian’s ghost out of the body he’s apparently possessed. And Lan Wangji instantly STOPS him from doing that.

Clan Leader Jiang: this person has been possessed, against their will, by an evil ghost

Future Chief Cultivator Lan: Counterpoint: I am banging the ghost

Flashback Time

Welcome to your 30-episode flashback!

Once I used to join in Every boy and girl was my friend Now there's revolution, but they don't know What they're fighting

Let us close our eyes Outside their lives go on much faster Oh, we won't give in We'll keep living in the past

Road Tripping to Summer School

Gosh I’m looking forward to younger, kinder, more relatable Jiang Cheng.

...prick.

Incidentally, until now this episode didn’t know that Jiang Cheng has smile muscles, and neither did the person who glued his wig on for him.

I Like Rabbits

Here we have our first rabbit in a large collection of rabbit iconography that appears in The Untamed.

Instead of sending everyone to the Wikipedia page for Tu'er Shen I’m going to take this opportunity to rec the short film Kiss of the Rabbit God by Andrew Thomas Huang (tw: blood, tw:body-mod cutting) which you can read about and watch over at Nowness.com

Particularly if you are a queer person of Chinese heritage, check it out.

So. What the fuck are these? Are they food?

Are they made from wax? Or corn starch? or pig intestines?

Wei Wuxian runs off to get laid drunk and Jiang Cheng grumps about it. Jiang Yanli reminds him that being free is a Jiang Clan Rule, so really Wei Wuxian is following the rules by not following the rules. Does that mean he’s not free? My head hurts.

Jiang Cheng: yes but grump grump grump

Jiang Yanli: Nothing bad will ever happen because of A-Xian’s choices, trust me

Outro

Wei Wuxian faint tally: one Caught by: the cold hard ground

Soundtrack: 1. Donkey Riding by Great Big Sea 2. Living in the Past by Jethro Tull 3. Whip It by Devo

Fic prompt: Lan Wangji’s internal monologue while he sits in the pavilion with Jiang Cheng

If you write a fic from this prompt and want to share, please post a link in comments!

Bonus: Wang Zuocheng, macro-expression king

Episode 03 Restless Rewatch coming soon!

#the untamed #fytheuntamed #the untamed spoilers #the untamed gifs #the untamed stills #my gifs #my stills #restless rewatch #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #lan jingyi #c-drama #bl drama #the untamed memes

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