#but my heart has started pounding so quickly again that i can’t focus on anything else | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vemaro · 3 months

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let’s not do anything hilarious

A link to the master post

Summary: Astarion Ancunin has two objectives whenever he comes to Baldur’s Gate. One: keep Tav happy. And two: keep Callum happy. As of right now, he is failing quite spectacularly at both. Callum vanished under his watch and his mother is in a state of panic. It’s been years since she’s worn that wrecked expression and he never wishes to see it again. The only way to fix that is to locate the boy and bring him to her as quickly as possible.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)

Word count: ~2200

Notes: I can’t seem to get myself to write the thing I want to write, the thing I keep telling myself I should write, so here we are again with a random tidbit. This time we get a little Gale time, featuring @necromosss’s Tav, Mira, stirring up some trouble. If you haven’t seen her art, go check out her blog. She turned me on to the Gale romance. I just hope I did Mira justice.

Enjoy!

…

This is the single most devastating moment of Tav’s life. Nothing could have prepared her physically or mentally for such an event. Her heart is pounding, her palms are clammy, and her skin is crawling with so much anxiety she could rip it from her body. Even then, that would pale in comparison to pain she feels a in her very soul.

“Oh my gods, where is he?” Her eyes meet Gale’s then Astarion’s respectively. “Where’s Callum?” When neither of the men provide an answer, only stare back with gobsmacked faces, she turns away to start searching. A hand touches her shoulder when she tries to move away and she flinches.

It’s only Gale, who lets go immediately. “Breathe, just breathe, Tav,” he says, keeping a calm and cool head.

She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Callum is missing. My son is missing.” Saying it out loud makes it feel worse. Tav clutches onto the fabric of her shirt above her frantic heart. “I should’ve been paying more attention to him. Or holding his hand. He’s so small, Gale. So small. What if someone took him?”

The wizard swats away the suggestion. “I’m sure he merely wandered off after spotting a sparkly bauble or colorful trinket.”

“But what if—”

He cuts her off. “We’ll find him.”

“But—”

He cuts her off a second time, firmly grabbing onto both of her shoulders. Her mouth snaps shut and she stares wide-eyed at her friend. “We will find him, Tav. But I implore you to take a deep breath.” Tav nods profusely inhaling through the nose and exhaling slowly through the mouth. Already some tension leaves her. “There. Much better.”

She takes another breath and at least now she can think straight. “Thank you.”

He smiles at her reassuringly. “Of course. I doubt he got very far. Why don’t you search the immediate vicinity? I shall search further up the road, and Astarion, you can—” It’s only now that they’ve both noticed their other companion is nowhere to be found. “Astarion?”

Curse that blasted vampire.

…

Astarion Ancunin has two objectives whenever he comes to Baldur’s Gate. One: keep Tav happy. And two: keep Callum happy. As of right now, he is failing quite spectacularly at both. Callum vanished under his watch and his mother is in a state of panic. It’s been years since she’s worn that wrecked expression and he never wishes to see it again. The only way to fix that is to locate the boy and bring him to her as quickly as possible.

Easier said than done.

He wasn’t at any of the stalls near where they were, nor inside any of the shops. It comes as no shock that no one noticed a small child with blue hair passing them by. If Astarion didn’t have to worry about accidentally exposing himself to the sun or drawing too much attention, this would be so much easier. Wave a dagger here, idle threats there and somebody would’ve seen something useful.

He makes a sharp turn down an alleyway when he spots a woman crouching in front of several stacks of barrels. She doesn’t notice him yet, her focus on something, or someone, hidden from his view. “Hello, little one. Are you lost?”

“Y-yes,” a small voice warbles.

He can’t physically see him, but he recognizes that voice. It’s Callum. Callum is over there, to his immense relief. Astarion’s first instinct is to shove the stranger aside, pick up the boy, and run like the hells, but it’s never that easy. This is Baldur’s Gate, the City of Blood, who knows if this woman has good intentions or bad. Astarion hangs back, sliding back behind the corner from which he came, a dagger at the ready, just in case.

He watches as she scoots a little closer. His hold on the hilt tightens. “Can you tell me your name?” she asks.

“No.”

The woman, a drow upon closer inspection, laughs at the timid yet blunt answer. “Smart boy.” Astarion wholeheartedly agrees. “I’m Mira. I’ll help you find your way home, alright?”

“I miss my Mama.”

She stands up and holds out a hand. “I know. We’ll find her together, promise.”

There’s a long pause as Callum thinks of what to do. “O-okay.” A tiny hand comes out from behind the barrels, latching onto her fingers.

She smiles down at him, hoping to coax him out of his hiding spot. “Okay.”

Astarion has no choice but to step in before they can leave. Thankfully for him, the alley is steeped in shadows, so if things get out of hand, at the very least he can close the umbrella in favor of fighting. Astarion clears his throat and slowly walks their way. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. He’s coming with me.”

The drow jumps, startled by his sudden appearance. “Stay there,” she whispers. She lets go of his hand, guides him back behind the barrels, and turns to face Astarion. She eyes him up and down. “Can I help you, sir?”

He puts on a charming grin and holds up his hand to show he’s not holding a weapon (it’s up his sleeve). “Ah, but you already did. You found my friend for me. Thank you for your services, but they are no longer needed. Good day.” He motions for her to leave.

She takes a defiant step back, closer to Callum. “Are you his father?”

Astarion resists a grimace, because it’s a stupid question and he can’t say yes. “No,” he grinds out. “I’m a family friend.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she challenges.

They’re maybe five feet apart, staring each other down, silver glaring up at red. “You don’t,” he deadpans. He looks past her, toward those barrels. “Come out, little bird. It’s time to fly home.”

Out pops that head of blue hair, followed by puffy, red-rimmed eyes. “Asty?”

“The one and only.” His eyes flicker back and forth between the boy and the woman every few seconds. He doesn’t want either of them out of sight. “You had us all worried sick disappearing like that, especially your mother. She’s looking for you right now.”

At the mention of Tav, the little comes out of hiding entirely. The drow woman still stands guard, hand shifting towards a rapier sheathed at her hip. “Mama?” he chirps.

Astarion nods. “Yes. I’ll take you to her.”

A few things happen all at once. Callum tries running towards him, only to be prevented by her. Astarion reveals the dagger up his sleeve because it seems he’s going to have to do this the hard way. Next thing he knows, a strong gust of wind blows him back against a brick wall and then there is a sword being pressed to his throat. The mysterious woman knows magic. And he dropped the dagger when he hit the wall. Perfect. Can this get any worse?

Naturally, he has to make light of everything, if not for himself, but for Callum’s sake. “Let’s not do anything hilarious.”

She presses the blade ever closer, making the cool metal touch just below his Adam’s apple. “Shut it,” she hisses. “I’m not going to let you hurt him.”

She thinks he’s going to hurt Callum? The idea is so preposterous, he could laugh. He restrains himself from doing so because something tells him she won't share his sense of humor. “This is just one big misunderstanding, dear. Lower your weapon and I will gladly explain everything away.”

Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Do not take me for a fool.”

And yet she is a fool. “I would never dream of doing such a thing.”

“How about I just run a stake through your heart, vampire?” His smile drops as a crooked, snaggle-toothed smirk spreads across her face. “Better yet, I can toss you out in the sun over there.”

Well, shit. This is worse.

A gasp from the little boy turns both of their heads. He’s running away, running right past them, running as fast as his little legs can take him, with his arms extended out. “Mama!”

At the end of the alley stands Astarion’s beloved druid, looking regal under the light of the sun. And Gale’s there too, he supposes. “Callum!” She meets him halfway, deftly scoops him into her arms and squeezes him like her life depends on it. “I was so scared.” She cranes her neck to look him over. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

His voice waivers. “I saw a cat and I wanted to pet it, but-but it kept running away. Then I lost you.”

She closes her eyes and thinks of his warmth breath on her neck, his weight in her arms, his heart beating in his chest. “It’s okay.” He’s okay. He’s fine. “You’re not lost anymore. You found me.”

“I love you, Mama.”

Tav presses a kiss into his hair. “I love you, too.” She kisses him over and over again.

The tender moment is broken with an aggravated cough. “Ahem! Not to spoil this heartwarming reunion, but can someone please tell this madwoman to release me?”

The druid flushes with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she calls. She approaches the drow woman, though she still keeps a safe distance back. “Let him go. Please.”

She glares at her captee. “He’s a vampire!”

Gale tries to talk her down. “Ah, yes. We are well aware of this fact, Miss …” He trails off, gesturing for her to fill in the blank.

“Mira,” she says.

“Miss Mira.”

“Just Mira,” she corrects.

“Just Mira.” He slowly saunters over, placing a hand on Astarion’s shoulder. “He’s actually a very good friend of ours and we’d prefer it if you didn’t kill him.”

“He was going to drink from your son!”

The vampire scoffs. “No, I wasn’t!” He pauses. “And that’s not his son!” The thought of Gale and Tav, together, makes him physically ill.

“Hush,” they both snap.

Astarion begrudgingly obeys. There is still a fucking sword at his throat and apparently he’s the only one bothered by it.

This is going absolutely nowhere. Tav steps a little closer so she’s behind Gale but next to Astarion. “Miss—” The other woman opens her mouth, so Tav quickly corrects herself. “I mean, Mira. Mira. I appreciate you looking out for my son, I’ll never be able to properly thank you for that, but there’s no one I trust more with him than the man before you.” She grabs Astarion’s wrist. “Please, release him.”

Mira’s eyes start on Tav then Callum, flit over to Gale, and finally land on the vampire. They’re all staring at her, hope shining in their eyes and it’s too much for her to bear. “Fine,” she groans before sheathing the rapier and crossing her arms.

Astarion brushes off some imaginary dust from his shoulders. “Thank you. It was about time.”

“You’re welcome,” she sneers back.

Tav’s hand is touching his face, turning his head by the chin this way and that, checking for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

He shrugs, playing it of. “I’ll live.”

“Asty, I’ll make it all better.” Tav semi-reluctantly hands him over to Astarion, who readily accepts the boy. “I’ll give you a magic kiss like Mama gives me.” And he does, right on the cheek, and then Callum hugs him around the neck.

Astarion catches a glimpse of a beaming Tav over the boy’s shoulder and feels his heart melt with sentimentality. Gods below, he has gone soft over the years and these two are to blame. With a sigh, he pats the boy’s back. “Thank you, little bird. I think it’s working.”

So Callum’s fine. Astarion’s got him. Tav feels secure enough to turn her attention back to Mira. “Thank you for protecting my son. Please, let me give you something for your trouble.” She digs into her satchel and pulls out a small pouch heavy with gold coins. “Here. Take this.”

Mira stares at the pouch for a moment, but takes a step back. “It was no trouble at all. Keep your gold.”

The druid is a persistent one. “Then allow me to buy you a meal. Please. I do insist. Please.”

Mira is not immune to those big, doe eyes. She throws her hands up, resigning herself to her fate. “Sure. Why not?”

Tav’s face lights up. “Yes! Perfect. Thank you. I know this place not too far from here—”

“I’m sorry. You expect me to endure a meal sitting across from someone who just tried to kill me?”

Tav chuckles dryly. “I’ve done it.”

Astarion spins around. “What? When did you—” But then he stops mid sentence to cringe. “Oh … right …” She’s referring to the first time he fed on her. He was one gulp away from going too far. Tav passed out from the blood loss and he stayed up the rest of the night to make sure he hadn’t unintentionally killed her. The next morning she sucker punched him. It was very much warranted. “Have I told you how lovely you look in that color, darling?”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

Mira leans over and stage whispers to Gale. “Um, so what’s the story behind that?”

He arches an eyebrow at the query. “To what are you referring to?”

She looks back over at the trio. Tav is fussing over both of her boys, repeatedly asking if they’re okay, they’re unharmed, they’re fine. Mira tilts her head in their direction. “Them.”

The wizard follows her gaze then sighs. “One lunch isn’t a sufficient amount of time to explain that … mess.”

“Is that so?” She clasps her hands behind her back and bites her lip. “Sounds like a good excuse to meet up again.”

Gale’s face burns bright red. “O-oh.” He starts fiddling with his coat, the buttons, the cuffs, anything to distract him from openly gaping at the beautiful woman currently speaking to him. “I-I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

“It’s a date?”

He offers her a shy smile as a confirmation. “It’s a date.”

…

Thanks for reading!

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #tavstarion #dadstarion #tav bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #vemaro #wildweave #gale bg3 #bg3 gale

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jujutsubaby · 2 months

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omggg your follower event is sooo cutie ahaha

cafe heaven and earth + iced matcha latte with oatmilk (bc i know that's what y/n orders in after hours 😉) + rose milk cake

a/n: omgggg~ first anon thank u sm for participating 🙈 hope you enjoy!!!

✨ WELCOME TO CAFE HEAVEN & EARTH ! ✨

🤍 PAIRING. nanami

🤍 WORD COUNT. 755

this isn’t your first time here at cafe heaven & earth. you’ve been a regular here for as long as you can remember, from drafting your novel to pitching ideas for the local newspaper.

you and haibara, the regular barista, have had an easy rapport from when you first started frequenting heaven & earth so you were sad when you walked in and remembered he was off this week. like, you were happy for him, of course, but also, who was gonna remember your usual order and make it just the way you liked it?

to your surprise, you see a vaguely familiar blonde man behind the cash register. you think he’s the owner, maybe, if you recall correctly. and thank god the line isn’t long today, so perhaps you can keep your interactions with everyone to a minimum and just focus on finishing your article.

the first thing you notice about him when you get to the front of the line is his soft features: light smile lines and gentle eyes greet you with a quick “hello, miss, what can i get for you today? iced oat matcha and rose milk cake as usual?”

before you can process how he even knows your usual order (something only reserved for haibara), a loud bang in the large wall-to-wall cafe window startles you both. you turn to see an eccentric, gangly man with wild white hair pounding on the glass, trying to get nanami’s attention. he keeps on pointing at the flyer in his hand (upon closer inspection, you see it’s one of those job flyers with tabs you can rip off, except there’s no job description on it, and the tabs each just have poorly drawn penises on them).

quickly glancing back at the blond man, you see him wincing in embarrassment. you can’t help your curiosity, so you ask, “do you know that guy?” the blonde man (“nanami”, you see on a perfectly aligned badge pinned to a perfectly pressed apron) just says “unfortunately. you can just ignore him.” you decide to take pity on him and change the subject.

“wait, how do you know my order?” the weirdo’s actions outside the cafe momentarily made you forget this man just recited your order seamlessly. you swear you see him blush slightly. “ah, well, haibara, he…uh…well…” he’s looking everywhere but your eyes, and you find it a bit adorable.

“all right, i’ll admit i’ve heard you order before and just think it’s the perfect order. it’s what i’d order, too.” now it’s your turn to blush. the perfect order? “oh, uh, thanks, but honestly, it’s all thanks to whoever supplies your rose milk cakes. i’ve never had anything quite like it.” god, your hands are feeling clammy and it feels so hot in here. don’t they have any AC?!

“well, the baker accepts your compliment, miss.” nanami says humbly, his smile growing even softer after hearing your praise. you’re in shock. nanami bakes the cakes himself?! “i had no idea…they always taste so freshly made whenever i have them. i should have expected the owner of my favorite cafe to be such a good baker, i guess.”

nanami seems to be opening up at your sincere compliments. “i’m glad to hear it, opening a bakery has always been my dream. the feedback means a lot coming from one of our best customers.” best customer?! your heart does a little flip. nanami suddenly looks shy again. “actually, i’ve been meaning to ask you…”

just then, probably tired of being ignored, the white-haired man bursts into the cafe, his loud demeanor at odds with the soothing ambience. “nanaminnnnn~” he whines. “what, i don’t exist anymore as soon as that cutie you’re obsessed with finally gives you the time of day?!” you and nanami both go red at that; of course, all the cafe patrons are staring at you now.

“gojo, now’s not the time,” nanami tries to say in his best no-drama customer service voice. the interloper doesn’t seem to take the hint. “well? ask her for her number already!”

neither of the men noticed that you had already scrawled it on a spare bit of paper from your trusty legal pad. “text me when your shift’s over?” you ask, feeling emboldened by the indirect confession. truth be told, he’s always caught your eye whenever he’s down at the cafe, but you were far too engrossed in your drafts to do anything about it.

nanami smiles, actually fully smiles with his teeth, at you. “y-yeah, of course.”

#100 #☕️ - coffee break #🪅 - pree's follower events #nanami kento #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami x reader

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fieldofdaisiies · 10 days

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paring: Tamlin x OC | type: fluff | words: 3,2k | warnings: none | masterlist

Tamlin’s lips part with a silent gasp when Reverie cranes her neck, rolls back her toned shoulders and then, deliciously slowly, unfolds her wings, stretching them out.

In the past he has often found himself silently admiring her wings, the velvety membrane that glowed when sunlight brushed it.

Weeks have passed since they last saw each other, but when they first laid eyes on each other again earlier this day, it seemed like no time had passed at all – everything still felt so right and perfect. They ended up cuddling and chatting for a while before Tamlin decided to prepare something to eat and they enjoyed the food alongside silent chatter about everything and anything. Later, Tamlin played a bit on his fiddle (following her request) while Reverie rested in bed, watching him, listening to every sound of his instrument.

His fiddle is long forgotten now that he finds himself gazing at his mate, admiring her with parted lips. He swallows around the lump that has formed in his throat, eyes following the outline of her wings.

Prior to this day he has never so blatantly stared at them, but right now he can’t tear his eyes away. He is transfixed by her, by her beauty. “You are stunning,” he whispers, eyes trailing from her wings to her face, and back to her wings.

Her cheeks tingle and her lips curl, and in a silent, soft whisper, Reverie says, “Would you like to touch them?”

Tamlin’s breath catches. Touch her wings! She told him what it does to Illyrians when someone touches their wings, that they have sensitive parts, and yet she offers it to him? He can’t quite believe it. Does she already trust him so much?

His expression must have given him away because Reverie giggles softly, and her nose scrunches. “You are my mate, Tamlin. If I want anyone to touch my wings, then it is you.” A sincere smile appears on her face. “No one has ever touched my wings before, be my first. Be my only.”

It is the only cue Tamlin needs. He slowly rises from the chair, smoothes his damp palms down his thighs and then walks over to her. He doesn’t feel the cool wood beneath his bare feet, his whole focus is on her, his heart rapidly pounding within his chest.

This is a major step, and a ginormous proof for her trust. It means more to him that she will ever be be able to understand.

Reverie shifts on the bed, making room for him. She sits crossed-legged when Tamlin claims the spot beside her and connects his lips with her shoulder. “Where am I allowed to touch you?”

Reverie holds her breath for a moment, eyes glazing over with desire, heat rising in her cheeks. She sucks in a sharp breath and holds it, then blows it out slowly. “Wherever you want.”

Tamlin is a male of manners, polite and courteous. He won’t touch the part that is sensitive, that will stimulate–

He cuts off his string of thoughts, blood suddenly rushing to a southern part of his body. Gods! This is uncomfortable. He shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. Not yet at least. They need more time. He uses one hand to adjust himself in his pants, not wanting to seem inappropriate in front of her. He is no brute – he is a good male and he will treat her as such.

Reverie tilts her head to the side, letting it rest on her shoulder. “Touch me,” she breathes, and her eyes clothes. She really wants it, wants to feel his delicate, soft fingers caress the membrane of her wings. She is ready for this step.

Slowly, tentatively, Tamlin lifts his right hand, bracing the left on the bed for balance. His hand trembles when he reaches forward, and starts to shake even more the moment the tip of his index finger brushes the soft, velvety membrane.

Nervousness blooms speedily within him, chest heaving quickly with ragged breaths.

A sigh parts Reverie’s lips when he strokes his index and middle finger down one vein to the talon at the bottom. “That feels good,” she hums, rolling her head to the other side.

“Does it?” Tamlin asks, and kisses her exposed shoulder once more, lips lingering so he can taste her just a little longer, drinking in her scent once more. He slowly pokes out his tongue, waiting for her reaction, not wanting to cross a line she is not yet comfortable with.

“Mhm.” Her answer is nothing more than a breathy purr that makes Tamlin’s skin grow taut. His hand still trembles furiously when he lifts it off her wings, only so he can place it a little higher up, at the junction, where her wings are connected to her back. Softly, his lips nibble on her skin while his fingers caress the onyx membrane of her wings, being careful as always.

They are not there yet, where he pleasures her by touching her wings, Tamlin thinks. But they can play a little, and he can make her feel good like that as well. He softly brushes over her wings, listening to the sweet sighs and soft gasps that leave his mate’s mouth and he soon realises that these might be his absolute favourite sounds from now on. Just like her laughter – no melody, no song, could ever compare to this sound.

“Have you been thinking about touching my wings before?” Reverie giggles and leans forward – Tamlin’s cue that it is enough for now. It is perfect, and to stop right now is alright. She has already given him her full trust and Tamlin feels more than grateful for it.

She turns to him, eyes full of hope and joy and Tamlin folds his hands in his lap.

He wants to lean in, but Reverie is faster, chasing his lips, then pulling him into a deep kiss that leaves them both breathless and makes Tamlin’s arms fly out to catch her in them. “I have,” he says against her mouth, and then his lips curl.

She climbs onto his lap, holding onto him so tightly, it brings tears to his eyes. “I never want to leave this place, Tam.” She rests her chin atop his shoulder. “Can we not stay here forever? Just the two of us.”

He would want nothing more. Just her. Just this small hut. A lovely life with his mate. It would be perfect. Too perfect, because this is not what life has planned for them.

“I wish we could,” he mumbles, turning his head so he can bury his face in her dark hair, drawing in her scent – citrus and sea, with a hint of jasmine.

────── ⋆⋅ꕤ⋅⋆ ──────

“I’ve told you so much about me,” Reverie starts and kisses a path down Tamlin’s chest, his shirt half unbuttoned. His muscle tense, body going stiff and Reverie, noticing his reaction, tips her chin up with a big grin on her lips. “Now tell me something about you. I want to learn more about you.”

She kisses his belly button and then sits up, her hand resting on Tamlin’s thigh, his hand closing over hers. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything!”

“I’ve told you about my brothers and my family,” Tamlin says with a small grimace.

“But I want to find out more about you! You, Tamlin. What you like, apart from playing the fiddle. Hm, let me think. What are your favourite flowers.”

Easy questions, Tamlin thinks, and also sits up. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Reverie’s pointed ear, then smiles. “Easy, Lady of the Night.”

Reverie laughs, the sound so pure it makes Tamlin’s soul warm his chest.

“What a lovely nickname, but now answer my question. What is your favourite flower?” She leans in to kiss his cheek, but Tamlin stops her with his laugh, his head tipping back. “That was my answer, Re.”

“What?” Her eyes widen a little, her hand squeezing his thigh. Colour blooms high on her cheeks.

“The Lady of the Night is a flower, also known as cestrum nocurnum or night blooming jasmine.” Tamlin trails his index and middle finger down the side of her face. “And yes, they are my favourite flowers for the reason you think they are. But the Lady of Night has been my favourite flower long before I even knew you. It must have been the bond that made me fall in love with this flower and later on with you.”

“You love me?” Her features soften, silver all of a sudden lining her eyes. She doesn’t want to cry, and finds it silly that tears suddenly start to bubble up. She is too emotional, she tells herself and wants to shake her head, but Tamlin moves his hand, cradling her jaw and pulling her lips against his. “I love you, yes I do. More than words could say.” He kisses her deeply.

“I know it is silly, we have only known each other for such a short time, but it is true. My heart is yours.”

“And mine is yours.” She smiles against his lips. “It is not silly at all. We have a mating bond, Tam, it enhances our feelings, our emotions. Falling in love with you would have been easy without a bond, but with the bond–”

Her lips close over his before she allows herself to finish. “I could never resist you. And it feels so good to love you.” Her hand leaves his thigh, now sliding around his neck, fingers twining into his long blond hair.

“I wish we could just accept this bond and—”

“Make love for two weeks straight!” A mischievous glint appears in her eyes, and she sucks in a deep breath, then grins at Tamlin who looks so incredibly stunned.

His eyes are wide open, mouth agape and his hands fall to his side. “I meant to say…love each other openly.”

The blush on her cheeks only intensifies, and her mouth forms and O. Then in a voice that is a lot calmer, she says, “Right,” and a sheepish giggle leaves her.

“We don’t have to wait.” Although he tries to sound serious, Reverie knows it is a small lie. He wants to wait a little longer, just as much as she does. Neither of them wants to rush anything, they don’t want the bond to interfere and they first want to get to know each other properly before becoming intimate with each other.

And there is of course also the risk. Fae have an incredible sense of smell. If they were intimate, her and his family would be able to scent the other's smell and they could not risk that. Not yet.

“No, Tamlin, I want to wait.” She leans in and kisses his nose. “It was just wonderful to see the look on your face.” He doesn’t smile immediately and so she adds, “And I do want you, I want you a lot, and I want us to sleep together, but we have time. All the time in the world, nothing is rushing us.”

────── ⋆⋅ꕤ⋅⋆ ──────

“So that is why Mor slept with Cassian.” Reverie finishes her story then turns to her mate who is already looking at her.

“I’m so sorry for her,” he says in a calm voice, “it must have been awful. I can’t imagine how cruel her father must be if he is capable of such things.” Actually, Tamlin thinks he has quite a good idea of how her father must be: very similar to his own. If the High Lord found out Tamlin was meeting with Reverie he would probably do similar things to him.

“It isn’t quite similar with you and Amarantha?”

Tamlin slowly nods, a grimace on his face. “Thank the Cauldron I haven’t seen her in a while now…and they can’t force me to marry her. I won’t accept it. Never.”

“Because you have me?”

“Of course, because I have you, my love.” Tamlin kisses the top of her head. “She is better now? Morrigan, I mean.”

“She is,” Reverie whispers. “She is with us now, her new family. We care for her and love her how her parents should have. She is the best cousin I could have ever hoped for and the only person I would ever tell about you before we make it official. I know she can keep secrets, I am also keeping her most treasured secret safe. I promised to never tell anyone, and one day, if she doesn’t reveal it before, I will die with it.”

Tamlin curls his arm tighter around her, not liking the “I will die with it” part of her sentence. He can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like to lose her. He doesn’t want to imagine it, because it won’t happen.

“You are a good cousin,” he tells his mate and giggles so her chest vibrates against his.

“I’m only giving her the family she deserves to have.” Reverie pauses for a moment. “Do you know Eris Vanserra?”

“Barely. We have only talked a few times, I can’t really tell if I like him or not, he seems quite arrogant but also polite.”

“Rhys says he is a dick.”

“Doesn’t Rhys say that about everyone?”

“Not about you.” Reverie places her palm flat against her mate’s chest. “He is very fond of you.”

“You think he would still be fond of me if he knew what we are doing here?”

“We are only cuddling, Tam.”

“And making out,” the Spring Court male adds with a lop-sided grin. “We make out a lot.”

“We haven’t made out for at least half an hour, but I guess it is time to change that now.” Reverie moves faster than Tamlin can think and suddenly she is straddling him, her lips chasing his.

She kisses him deeply, tasting the sweetness of his lips as they melt into each other. The kiss ignited a fire within them, consuming them both with desire. Involuntarily when she tries to shift closer, wanting to feel him even more, her hips grind against his, her softest parts against…his hardest, but she can’t stop. She needs more. More of the kiss, more of him.

“I can never get enough of you,” Tamlin says, voice throaty and for the first time he allows his hands to move lower than her waist, carefully sliding over her rear, and he waits for her reaction, if she wants him to stop. But Reverie only kisses him again, this time with more hunger and he squeezes softly, massaging her butt.

Desire is thick in the air, but they still stop after a few explorative touches and many more kisses that leave them breathless. After all, they have eternity waiting for them.

────── ⋆⋅ꕤ⋅⋆ ──────

“We definitely need a garden with fruit trees and flower fields.”

“Flower fields full of night blooming jasmines?”

Tamlin rests his chin on her shoulder and smiles. “Of course.” His arms naturally curl around her waist and he pulls her closer so their bodies are flush. “And a big playground for our children.”

“I like the sound of that.” Reverie gives the bowl in the sink in front of her one more scrub and then leans her head against her mate’s chin. “How many will we have?”

“Many!”

“How many?”

“As many as you want.” He kisses the side of her head and then draws in a deep inhale. Her scent is just so perfect, he can’t get enough of it, and would love to get drunk on it.

Reverie gazes out of the window, Tamlin does too, his chin still resting atop her shoulder, arms curled around her. She sighs deeply, shoulders dropping.

It feels like the inside of the hut cools a little, and the corners of her lips turn downward. “Do you want to accept the bond?”

Tamlin doesn’t answer immediately. They have talked about it before, and he told her he wanted to, he doesn’t understand her concern about him changing his opinion now. “I want to. One day.”

“Why not yet?”

“I wish we could accept it, but it’s too dangerous. Once we accept it, it will be even harder to hide it. It will need a lot more magic and will be harder for me to do so over the long distance.”

Reverie throws her head back with a loud, almost long-suffering groan. “I hate it when you are right.”

His chest rumbles against her back, and Reverie smiles at the feel of it, relishing the feel of his warm body, against hers.

“We have time, Re.” He kisses the top of her head, using a hand to brush away a few strands of hair which sends a shiver through the female’s body. “We are so young, we have centuries to come. Centuries full of love and happiness, and with our mating bond. Nothing is rushing us, we should give ourselves and our love time.”

“You really always have to be right, huh?” Reverie lightly stomps her foot into the ground.

“I‘m sorry, princess,” Tamlin laughs and feels her squirm in his hold.

“Princess,” she repeats.

“You are, the Night Court’s princess and also my princess.” Turning in his hold, Reverie looks up at her mate with big eyes, then she grins. “I somehow like the sound of this. Makes me feel special.”

“You are special. To me you are…very special.” Sliding her hands around his neck and Tamlin simultaneously pulling her closer by her hips, their foreheads rest against each other.

For a long moment they only look into each other‘s eyes, and the world around them fades into insignificance. Nothing matters anymore, only their hearts beating in the same rhythm.

Reverie pulls her lower lip between her teeth, and takes in a deep breath. Desire starts to bloom within her chest, making her breathing turn a little heavier. Something tightens in her abdomen, and the press of his fingertips into her hips makes her acutely aware of how close he is and what his touch does to her.

“I want you, Tamlin.”

“You have me.” He smiles and his cheeks redden.

“You don’t understand,” she whispers, “I want you to make love to me, Tamlin. I want us to sleep together. Maybe we don’t accept the bond yet, but I want you to claim me in a different way. I want to give my body to you.”

“You won’t give me your body, princess. It will be yours forever. Everything you need to give me is your consent to do things to your body that make you feel good.” Tamlin brings her body flush to his and she can feel his…hardest parts press against her softest. His voice drops an octave when he adds, “I want to worship you, princess.”

“Yes,” she breathlessly gasps and chases his lips. “I want this.”

Tamlin only kisses her shortly and with a somber expression, and sadness in his eyes says, “But you’ll have to be patient, princess. Your father expects you back at the Night Court soon.”

tags: @thesnugglingduck @sirenpearldust @lilah-asteria

#tamlin x oc #tamlin acotar #acotar #acosf

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dorkyblgg · 6 months

Text

No Clean Hands - Kaz x Reader (six of crows)

He looked around at his crew noting that (Y/N) was nowhere to be seen. He became confused because you weren't hurt the last time he saw you but anything can happen within a few hours in this city. But again you were Grisha and you surviving Parem could be messing with you as well. He looked over to Jesper and raised an eyebrow. Jesper just shrugged.

"Has anyone seen (Y/N)?" He asked worry slipping into the question which got everyone's attention. Nina smirked.

'Shit Nina caught on that I'm worried,' he thought watching Nina make sure she doesn't give it away to the others.

"Okay lover boy," Nina teased making Kaz roll his eyes.

"I'm not in love, Nina. I'm just worried because (Y/N) is never late to our meetings," Kaz exclaimed while Nina snorted noticing the change in his heart rate but keeping her mouth closed. She knew better than to push it with Kaz.

"Yeah, this is unusual for her," Jesper chimed in.

"We should go look for her," Inej suggested while watching Kaz's body language shift around quickly. He may not want to realize or even say that he has feelings for (Y/N) and was worried but Inej could tell because she has seen this with herself before (Y/N) has joined their little group. Matthias has stayed quiet this entire time because he doesn't really know what to say half the time.

"Alright. Inej you search by rooftop and Matthias and I will search on foot. The rest of you stay here in case (Y/N) comes here before we can find 'em," Kaz said while trying to come up with places you could potentially be at as Inej took off from the window to get to the roof faster. Kaz and Matthias took off shortly after. Kaz was going straight for the filled cemetery. You usually went there when you haven’t used your powers in a while and it was the only way you could after managing to survive Parem just like Nina but he knew you were much more powerful than Nina due to more experience. Once they got close he told Matthias to keep watch at the gate before walking around to find you.

“Why didn’t you show up?” Kaz asked startling you and breaking your concentration. You sighed and dropped your hands.

“I was starting to get really weak and sick from lack of using my powers but I can’t use them unless here against the dead,” you explained as the dead started to fall from you stopping.

“So you came to control the dead and not letting me know?” He pushed coming closer.

“Like you care? You can’t even admit when you have feelings for someone so why would you care about me not showing up,” you yelled at him getting angry that he would dare pretend to care.

“Like hell I do! I can’t let it show cause I have a reputation! And I don’t have clean hands. I’ve killed so many. What girl would that?” He yelled back getting upset you can’t see the way he feels for you despite knowing he has never showed you.

“Listen Kaz, there are no clean hands in this city. You of all people know that,” you yelled wanting so badly to control his heart rate but you couldn’t even feel or sense it in any ways which just proved how badly Parem had messed up your Grisha abilities. Kaz walked closer to you so he was standing right in front of you.

“I know,” he said softly looking at your hands. He took in every scare from your battle with parem. You dealt with it a lot harder than Nina did and you had hurt yourself a bunch to try to force them to give you more which the merchling fucked up and gave you another dose. How you managed to survive two doses is a mystery but here you were standing in front of him. He felt his heart start to pound and everything started to feel fuzzy but he forced himself to focus on your hands. He had no idea you no longer could notice his heart rate anymore. You moved to stand beside him breaking him out of his spiraling feelings.

“I genuinely have feelings for you but you have a lot of things you need to work on and to not give a shit about a lot of other things such as peoples thoughts of you. I know why you feel that way about your reputation but you might benefit from not giving a shit more often than what you do know. Until then I’m just going to be your friend and crew mate,” you whispered careful to not get to close or to touch him. He looked at you and nodded.

“Now that that’s out of the way let’s get going. We got shit to do,” he said before walking away his cane hitting the ground with a lot more force than normal. He didn’t blame you but he was still upset but went through the night just like any other night is this damned city.

#Kaz #kaz brekker #Kaz fanfiction #kaz breaker fanfiction #kaz fanfic #Kaz breaker fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #kaz x y/n #kaz x you #kaz x reader

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comfortjoonie · 10 months

Note

Hi there~! I really love your writing! It always makes my day when I see a new story from you haha 😁 If you are needing any requests, anything with Yoongi comforting/taking care of Namjoon? If possible, maybe Namjoon has a panic attack that makes him sick to his stomach and Yoongi helps him? Or whatever you'd like, I'd enjoy reading whatever you write!

Thanks! 💜

hiii!! i hope you like this! if you want me to make it a little longer, i can do that for you!

tw: panic attack, vomiting

(lol their height difference is so much!! google stop lying and saying Namjoon is only 3 inches taller)

As soon as Yoongi hears the bed rustling, he knows something is wrong. He stands up from his desk and turns around to see his roommate, Namjoon, shifting around in his sleep. He looks scared. Yoongi walks over to the bed, hoping the cameras aren’t on right now. They’re filming for In the Soop again, at a lake house where Yoongi is roommates with Namjoon. Yoongi glances at the camera on the wall as he puts a hand on Namjoon’s back.

Namjoon suddenly shoots up in bed, panting heavily. “Hyung, hyung,” Namjoon says, looking frantically for Yoongi.

“Right here, Joonie. Nightmare?” he asks, and Namjoon just nods. Yoongi rubs his back. Namjoon has been having a lot of nightmares lately – all the stress that’s been on him is causing him trouble even in his sleep. He’s woken up like this more times than Yoongi can count in the past couple of months.

Namjoon sucks in a breath, his eyes welling up with tears. “You’re okay, Namjoon. It’s ok,” Yoongi says calmly. “Just breathe again, slowly…”

Namjoon’s stomach churns. Yoongi can hear the gurgling sound it makes. “I feel–” Namjoon swallows. Yoongi grabs the trash bin under the desk and brings it to Namjoon. The younger swallows again, still breathing heavily. He’s sweating, and the feeling makes him panic even more.

“Breathe, Namjoonie. Remember to breathe,” Yoongi urges. Namjoon coughs and gags over the trash can. He vomits harshly and it just makes him more panicked. Yoongi sighs. “Just let it out, Namjoonie. You’ll feel better once it’s out.” Namjoon does let it out. Violently. He feels like he can’t breathe again. His heart is pounding so hard that he can hear it. His head throbs.

Yoongi pats Namjoon’s back. “You’re okay, Joon. Just breathe.” But Namjoon feels like he can’t breathe. Tears run down his cheeks, and Yoongi wipes them. “Finished?” Yoongi points to the trashcan, and Namjoon nods. Yoongi sets it down on the ground. “Come here, Namjoon,” he says softly, sitting on the bed with his back on the headboard and bringing Namjoon to lean against him. Namjoon’s chest moves up and down with quick and shallow breaths. Yoongi puts his hand on Namjoon’s chest and feels his heart beating way too quickly. “Joonie, breathe,” he says. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

Namjoon evens out his breath and Yoongi wipes the tears off his face. “Thank you, hyung,” he whispers.

“Of course, Joonie.” Yoongi says softly. “You’re my best friend. This is what I’m supposed to do.”

“I have so much work to do,” Namjoon whines.

“Right now, the only thing you need to work on is relaxing. Just focus on your breathing.”

“I still feel nauseous,” Namjoon says.

“Do you remember your dream?” Yoongi asks. Namjoon shakes his head. “Do you feel a little better?” Namjoon nods. “I need to clean this trash can out, Namjoon. Just wait here.” Yoongi lifts Namjoon up and lays him down on the pillow. He brings the trash to the bathroom and starts cleaning it as best he can. Unfortunately, he knows it’s only a matter of time before Namjoon remembers they’re filming and starts panicking again.

When he’s done cleaning, he hadn’t realized it would be so soon. He goes back into the bedroom and finds Namjoon frantically breathing and checking the time on his phone. “Hyung–hyung—the filming—it’s already 8:00am–”

“Shh, Namjoon. No worries. I’ll tell the crew to delay the filming a little. You need to rest.” Yoongi sets the trash can next to the bed and holds Namjoon’s hand. Even though Namjoon is so tall, he looks tiny here with his knees drawn up to his chest and tears running down his cheeks. “Why don’t we turn on something to watch? And I’ll give you some medicine.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No, I need to get up and show up to breakfast–”

“Joon, I’ll just have the crew say in the episode that we slept in–”

Namjoon cuts Yoongi off with a gag, grabbing the trash can and vomiting into it again. Yoongi sighs and rubs his back,

“It’s okay, Joon. I’m right here with you.” Namjoon coughs when he’s finished.

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

“You don’t need to be. I want to help you feel better.” Yoongi pulls a strand of hair behind Namjoon’s ear. “Just get some sleep. I’ll give you some medicine in a few minutes after I clean this out.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon says again.

“Joon. It’s fine, okay? Let’s just focus on getting better right now.” Yoongi smiles at the younger and wipes a tear from his cheek.

“Lay down. Let me clean this and get medicine. Then I’ll get you some breakfast.”

Namjoon nods. His stomach still hurts, but not as much. And with Yoongi there, telling him that it’s alright, he feels a lot safer than he would otherwise.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“Don’t thank me, Joonie. This is what I’m supposed to do for you.” Yoongi smiles at Namjoon again and walks to the bathroom. Namjoon lays down on his side, staring at the painting of a landscape on the wall.

His head still pounds, but he’s too exhausted to stay awake. When Yoongi comes back from the bathroom, Namjoon is already asleep again.

He just hopes this is more peaceful than last time.

hope you guys enjoyed <3333

#sick!namjoon #sickfic #bts #caretaker!yoongi #emeto #tw emeto #kpop sickfic #bts sickfic #namgi

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thatblackravenclaw · 10 months

Text

That Night On The Ferris Wheel

(Images above are from Pinterest)

Blog Details | Let’s take a trip

Dean Thomas x black!fem!reader (no y/n)

warning(s): reader hinted to have a fear of heights, cursing, reader hinted to have anxiety, smut, fingering in a public setting

word count: 1.2k

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Dean grips my hand as he pulls me to the Ferris Wheel.

“What if it gets stuck?”

“It’s not gonna get stuck.” He says with an eye roll.

His stride gets us to the line in half the time it would’ve taken me. My heart beat is in my ears and the world turns into a kaleidoscope. I’ve never been on a Ferris Wheel. I never wanted to. They’re high and barely safe. You’re putting all your safety in the hands of a teenager who barely knows how to work the mechanical box and are just here to earn minimum wage, if even that.

The line goes faster than I would like.

“It’s going to come off of the hinges.”

“The box will malfunction and the wheel will speed up.”

“You’re gonna be stuck at the very top for hours.”

Why are my thoughts so loud? I’m going to throw up.

“Hey.” Dean’s voice pushes through my thoughts. The world silences, but his voice.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

The line moves. Halfway there. His words slow my heart beat back to its normal rate. I give him an acknowledging nod while praying that the line slows down.

It doesn’t.

Soon we’re second in line and my nightmare is coming true. I could tell Dean that I’m uncomfortable with this and don’t want to go on. He would say okay and we’d go on another ride. That simple. I don’t want to though. I want to do this. I want to overcome this fear. Prove that I can do it. Not for Dean, but for myself. That’s why I don’t say anything.

The Ferris Wheel comes to a stop and the previous couple walk out of the car, bright smiles across their faces. The sight doesn’t ease me any. The only thing that eases me is the smile on Dean’s face when I look up at him. He looks down at me and I can’t help but return the smile. He squeezes my hand and we walk up the stairs to the car.

There’s not much space. Our thighs squish together as we both sit in the car. There’s a slight rocking as we get settled and my heart rate picks up again. This cannot be safe. I quickly grab his hand and squeeze it along with my eyes.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

I take an inhale as his words echo through my head. As I exhale, the Ferris Wheel starts to move. I don’t open my eyes, not trusting my calm demeanor to last long. I allow myself to loosen my grip on his hand and stretch mine out on my thighs.

The Ferris Wheel creaks as it rises. Children and teenagers scream and laugh as they ride the other carnivals attractions. Dean is going on about something going on with his flatmates. All I can hear is Seamus… Kitchen…, and boy toy. I love him, but his roommate is the last thing on my mind right now.

“Sweetheart,” He asks.

“Mhm?” My tone is squeaky.

The wheel comes to a sudden stop. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“Why are we stopped?” My eyes stay closed as I ask the question. It’s stuck. I bet a million pounds that it’s stuck.

I feel his upper body shift away from me. The car creaks with his movement. I accidentally open my eyes and realize just how high we are.

“Holy shit.” My voice barely above a whisper.

“Damn, I think the mechanical box stopped working.” I open my mouth to give him an ‘I told you so.” when he quickly tells me to shush.

Tears prick in the corner of my eyes. I feel myself start to hyperventilate. I avert my eyes to the sky and work on the breathing exercises that my therapist gave me.

The sky has transitioned into an astronomical twilight. The stars are dimly lit due to the city lights, but I can vaguely point out Spica shining bright next to the first quarter moon. You can just make out the Mare of Serenitatis clearly. The more I stare at it, the closer it seems to get. The change of focus only works for so long. Then, he starts speaking again and I’m reminded of the predicament we’re in. My eyes widened with realization as I looked at Dean.

“Hey, what did I say,” he asks softly.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

“Here, I wanna try something.” I raise a quizzical brow as he puts his hand on my thigh. His nimble fingers grazes my jean zipper before moving up to the button.

“Right now?” A wave of nervous shakes roll through my body as I look around. You aren’t able to see the lower parts of our body due to the design of the Ferris Wheel car, but that doesn’t ease my nerves any.

“Do you trust me?” He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the zipper.

“Yes,” I responded without hesitation.

He grabs my leg closest to him and pulls it over his thigh. His fingers slip through my pants and trace from my clit, down across my folds, and back up again. He does the teasing motion until my clit is throbbing with need. I tried my best not to moan, but a whimper slips through every now and then. He proceeds to lay his palm on my lower abdomen while the tips of his fingers play with the band of my underwear. I shiver as his fingers touch my bare skin every so often.

“You gotta be nice and quiet for me, okay? Can you do that for me?” His voice now deepened. Arousal dripping from his tone. I lose the ability to speak any words and just nod my head. I can hear my heart in my ears, but at this moment it is only him and I.

He reaches inside of my underwear and completely bi-passes my clit. My look of confusion morphed into a calmed look with a satisfied sigh. His middle finger slips through my folds and gathers the slick on the pad of his middle finger. You can hear the squelching but not loud enough to cover the noise from the carnival. His finger then moves up my folds until it gets to my clit causing my thighs to twitch. The begging died in my throat as he circled my clit. I lean my head back but don’t let a sound slip out my lips so as not to alert other carnival-goers.

He puts a little pressure on it, just how I like it. I grab on to his arm to ground myself. He’s worked me up to a point that I feel like I’m floating. The pleasure was so far away. Now, my arousal grows and seeps through my underwear while he brings me closer to my impending orgasm.

“Dean,” I gasp out.

“Sshh. It’s okay. I know. I got you. Let go whenever you need to.”

His finger speeds up and slightly more pressure is added. My grip tightens on him. The world blurs as my eyes roll to the back of my head. I cum with a hushed curse and melt into the seat beneath me. Dean removes his fingers and lightly pats my clothed over-sensitive clit.

“Still scared?” He chuckles at my now weak figure.

“Fuck you.” I match his playful tone while attempting to zip up my jeans.

“Oh, I plan to.”

Dean Masterlist | United Kingdom

#dean thomas #dean thomas fanfiction #dean thomas fic #dean thomas fanfic #dean thomas x reader #dean thomas x fem!reader #dean thomas smut #Harry Potter Smut #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fic #black!reader

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

Note

Ok, you said you're always down for some angst. How about this for the werewolf au? What if Jake is dreaming about Ronnie delivering their first child, and everything seems to be going ok but then it becomes his worst nightmare because all of a sudden, Ronnie and his child don't make it though childbirth. Now, he has to face life without his Luna or his pup. Then, Jake shoots up in bed and only calms down when he lays his head on Ronnie's chest to hear her heart and rest his hand on her bump.

AAAAAHHHH AAAAHHHHHH I AM SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UUUUUUUUUP

M....dear sweet M.....you've found my sweet spot in hurt/comfort goodness....

I hope this tides you all over until I post the next actual chapter of this fic lol

some quick warnings: blood mention, birthing scene, dead body mention, non-canon character death, nightmares

Ronnie’s agonizing screams echoed in an unnatural way as she squeezed Jake’s hand for dear life. She was doing so well, the doctors kept saying so. And Jake was so proud of her as he wiped the sweat from her forehead and pushed back her hair.

This wasn’t what they had planned. They planned for a home birth, a midwife, for Ronnie to be completely comfortable and the pack to be right outside. But it was too late to change anything now. They were in that hospital room and that baby was coming no matter what.

“You’re doing so good, little one, just a little more,” he encouraged against the skin of her temple.

“I can’t, I can’t,” she panted through a sob as she shook her head.

“Yes, you can,” he said, “I know you can.”

“Another big one! Come on, Ronnie, push!” the doctor shouted, sounding like some TV show they were watching together.

Ronnie sat up and started to push as the contraction crescendoed, mouth falling open in a noise of pure pain as she did so. It made Jake’s heart break and his eyes flash in power. His mate was hurting and he could do nothing to stop it. Nothing but support her and encourage her and let her try to break his hand. There was no enemy to defeat here — and it made the beast inside him ache.

But then, Ronnie’s face paled ghostly white. Her grip on his palm loosened.

“Jake…” she managed to mutter out, her unfocused gaze falling on him before she fell back against the pillows.

The monitors all around started to beep wildly. It was overwhelming, made it hard for Jake to focus as he grabbed Ronnie’s shoulder and shook her lightly. Trying to get her to wake up.

“Ronnie? Ronnie, can you hear me?” he called loudly over the cacophony of beeps that he wished would stop; stop reminding him that something was wrong.

Jake looked over at her spread legs and gown-covered middle — only to see everything soaked in blood. Red dripped off the hospital bed and onto the white tile floors. The scent of it, like rust and death, hit him at full force. And before Jake could even really react, the doctors pushed him away from the bed. Screaming about codes and drugs and just getting the baby out.

People in scrubs and white coats surrounded the bed, blocking everything from Jake’s view besides the blood that continued to drip, drip, drip steadily against the tile. He couldn’t stop staring at it. Couldn’t top that scent of rust and death from filling his lungs and clouding his brain. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask what was going on — he could hear it. For months he had listened to their dual heartbeats. One slow and steady and somehow sounding kind. That was Ronnie. The other fast and small and brave. That was their pup.

One was silent. Stopped. Wiped from the earth like it never even existed.

The other was far too slow.

The wall of scrubs and white coats opened. That heartbeat pounded in his ears over the sound of the beeping monitors.

Thump.

As he approached the bed again, the doctors were saying things but he could barely hear them. Something about how there was nothing they could do. She was bleeding too quickly. The baby…There was blood everywhere. Smeared all over her hospital gown and onto her neck. Ronnie had never looked so small in her entire life. Her skin white, cheeks greyed, her eyes tired and heavy as she blinked up at the ceiling. She tried to smile when he placed his hand on her cheek. But it formed broken and full of sorrow on her pale blue lips.

She swallowed something thick, her throat bobbing, before she croaked, “The pup…?”

Jake looked up. And there, laying in the bassinet, was a tiny little body covered in a sheet — red seeping through the fabric. He tried not to scream as he looked down at Ronnie and shook his head. A tear slipped down her cheek that caught on Jake’s thumb as he held her tighter.

As he tried to hold onto her for just a few more moments. God, her heartbeat was so slow. And there was nothing he could do to stop this. Nothing he could do to make the bleeding stop and her heart go back to that steady, kind rhythm that he loved. No werewolf magic. No Alpha power. What was the fucking point of it all if everything he loved was still ripped from him like this?

“I love you, little one,” he whispered as her brown eyes stared straight through him, unable to concentrate as her life slipped away. “Please, fight. Come on. Don’t give in. Don’t just go quietly — fight.”

But even as he pleaded with her not to leave him, he knew that there was no fighting this.

Her eyes gained one last moment of clarity. For a second, he dared to hope. Ronnie looked directly into his eyes, some form of desperation pulled at her brow as she leaned into the touch of his palm on her cheek.

“Jake…” she whispered.

Then she laid still. Her dark pupils relaxed. Her heart gave one last thump — like some final kiss against his soul — before it went silent.

The world had never been so quiet.

Jake sat up straight in bed. He felt a gasp leave his lungs as he soaked in the darkness of the bedroom. Then he felt the sweat that coated his skin, which cooled as the air from the overhead fan reached him. His flesh tingled with the power of the Alpha, the beast longing to be released.

It was dark. It was nighttime. He wasn’t in some blood-stained hospital room. He was in his bedroom.

But still, the world seemed so quiet. He couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears and his own heart pounding wildly in his chest. The more he struggled to listen over the sound of his own insides, the harder it became to be. He fought for air, he fisted the bedsheets so tight he was sure they were ripping within his claws.

Was it just a dream? Or was it a cruel replaying of some memory he was trying to forget?

Then he felt a hand on his bare shoulder — and he flinched as he turned to the source. Only for relief to wash over him like some all-consuming, roaring waterfall. So loud that the entire world was filled with it, that there was no room for anything else.

Ronnie sat there, pushed up on one elbow, blinking at him in the darkness. Beautiful, laying next to him in their shared bed, alive, and full of his pup. His t-shirt that she wore stretched over the curve of her nearly to-term bump that she now cradled with her hand. Jake released the breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding as he took in the sight of her. Her scent of old book pages and lavender flooded his senses.

“Everything okay?” she asked quietly.

Jake didn’t respond with words. Though, he may have grunted as he crashed into her chest. Forcing her to lay back down with his head burrowed into her breasts. She chuckled lightly as she threaded her fingers into his hair in the way he liked. Jake practically purred as he nuzzled into her further. As one arm wound its way underneath her body and held her to him. As his other hand was planted firmly against the expanse of her belly.

He could hear both of their heartbeats now. One slow and steady and somehow kind. The other fast and small and brave. The music of his entire life.

It was just a dream.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” Ronnie questioned, lips brushing the top of his head.

“No.”

Never he wanted to say as he pushed up the fabric of her shirt with his fingers, opting to feel the warmth of her skin. He felt the pup move against his palm, push against the confines of her belly. The sigh he released was shakier than he intended, weaker than he wanted to seem, as he fell completely lax against her.

He knew that she understood enough in the way she tugged at the strands of his hair.

“I’m right here, my Alpha. My sweet boy,” she whispered to him in the darkness as Jake’s eyes slipped shut. “I’m not going anywhere.”

werewolf!topgun taglist: @blue-aconite @darkestbeforethedawn16 @supernaturaldawning @illisius @hope-love-equality2 @wanderingdetectives @sqrlgrl22 @dempy @theforevermorereject @the-untamed-soul @emandems10 @xxshea-barnesxx @piceous21 @sopheeg @ollyoxenfrees @luckyladycreator2 @newlibrary @himbos-on-ice @gigisimsonmars @agentminnesota187

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mistiell · 2 years

Text

Request: Prompt: pure angst #15. Arcane-Vi x fem!Reader romantic. extra: vi&reader were fighting someone or something ( u choose) and noticing that vi is about to get hurt reader not only kills the thing/person, but dies in the process. (my first time doing a request sooo... I love vi I really do but she needs to have a breakdown and there’s not enough fics where she does.)( if u know of any please let me know pls)

__________________________________________

It started out as a bar fight.

Some creep made a really sleazy comment about you and of course Vi went ape shit on his ass. The second she threw the first punch, it turned into an all out brawl. You ended up getting involved, defending your girlfriend as best you could. You were back to back for awhile but at some point, you must have gotten split up because suddenly she’s at least 12 feet away from you and you’re stuck on the other side of the room.

You throw yet another punch, clocking one of the guy’s buddies in the jaw. Your chest is heaving and beads of sweat roll down your forehead. You chance a glance at Vi, checking to make sure she’s still okay. You watch her knock someone out and smirk to yourself.

Though that smirk quickly falls when you catch someone with a broken bottle creeping up behind her.

“Vi!” You shriek, shoving passed the person you’re currently fighting and sprinting across the room. Your heart’s pounding, your legs are burning, there’s this cold flare of fear climbing up your throat as all the worst case scenario’s flash through your head at once. You don’t think before you tackle her to the ground, crying out as you feel a jagged pain pierce your side.

“Y/n, what the hell? I had him, you didn’t have to-!” Vi cuts herself off, hand flying up to cover her mouth, “Oh- Oh my god.”

You look down, watching a big, red spot bloom on your shirt. The guys you were fighting all look at each other before all making the decision to book it, not wanting to face the consequences of their friend’s actions.

Vi plants her hands over your wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, “Fuck, okay. You’re gonna be okay, Cupcake. I promise, just… just give me a second. Keep putting pressure on this.”

She moves your hands to put pressure on the injury before rushing off to find something, anything to help you. You lay there, trying your best to keep putting pressure on it while steadily growing weaker. Your eyelids feel heavy and the world has started to spin and Jesus, did someone turn up the air conditioning because you are freezing.

Oh.

You realize that you might be bleeding out a little faster than you thought.

When Vi finally comes back, she’s holding a first aid kit and dropping onto her knees while frantically pulling out some gauze.

“Vi.” You roll your head to look at her, blinking slowly and trying to get your eyes to focus.

She lifts up your shirt and curses when she sees the damage, “It’s okay. I- I can fix this.”

“Vi.” You say her name again, but she keeps going.

“I promise, you’ll be okay. I’ll patch you up and then-.”

“Vi.” She looks at you, tears welling up in fear filled eyes, “It’s okay.”

And then they fall, streaming down her cheeks as a trembling hand comes to brush away a strand of your hair

“I’m- I’m sorry,” She sobs, “This is all my fault!”

“No, it’s not.” Your voice is hoarse and quiet as you place your hand on the back of hers.

“I can’t- I can’t do this without you.” She swallows hard, “I don’t know how to live without you.”

“You’ll manage. You always do, love.” You manage a small smile, feeling your body slowly succumb to the numbness that’s been creeping up on you. Your eyes close on their own accord, the darkness engulfing you and cradling you in a soft, almost comforting way. Death really isn’t as scary as you’d thought it would be. You don’t feel pain anymore. You don’t feel anything anymore. It’s still and quiet here.

Who knew a bar fight could end so, so badly.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi arcane #match up event #prompt event

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kseniyache · 6 months

Note

Number 5 for Sheith!

I missed you!!!💖💖💖

Hi! Awww, thank you!

I wrote a piece for this request. But I should warn you that it's a painful one because of non-reciprocal feelings. And also this fic can be considered a continuation of another one of mine.

Keith clenches and unclenches his fists nerviosly. Once, twice. Inhale and exhale. A decisive step — and the words come out of him in a rehearsed phrase.

“Shiro, I want to talk to you.”

Shiro looks up at Keith, it takes him a moment to focus. Immediately a smile touches his lips, “Of course. What happened?”

Keith glances at Pidge and Lance, who are looking at something on the tablet.

“Not here.”

Shiro nods knowingly and gets up from his seat, although his eyebrows are slightly frowning.

They walk in silence — Shiro is slightly behind — and Keith uses this time to once again gather his courage. It’s Shiro, he’ll understand me. He said that I should open up.

Finally they reach his cabin, the door closes behind Shiro, and he stands in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. There was a worried expression on his face. But he is silent and waits for Keith to start talking.

“Shiro…” Oh, quiznak, how difficult it is! “Do you remember, we talked… a month ago?”

Shiro squints, remembering something.

“We talked about my feelings for someone,” Keith adds uncertainly, and a flash of understanding appears on Shiro’s face, he nods, encouraging Keith to continue.

Keith licks his lips. He’s standing just a few steps away from Shiro. Maybe he shouldn’t talk, maybe he just should kiss Shiro right away? The way he imagined hundreds of times in his dreams. How does it feel to kiss Shiro? Keith swallows and can’t help but look at Shiro’s lips. Just for a moment. One agonizing moment… Keith looks up and looks Shiro in the eye. Come on, tell him! It will be fair!

“I want… I wanted…” Keith forgot the prepared phrase. He feels his heart pounding wildly against his ribs, like a bird in a cage.

Shiro takes a step towards him, holds out his hand. He probably wants to help somehow, but Keith desperately waves his head and takes a breath, and then almost screams, “It’s you!”

Shiro froze. He frowns again—he doesn’t understand. But something in the expression of his eyes makes Keith act more decisively.

“It’s you, Shiro, you. The person I was talking about. It’s you. There has always been and always will be only you. Shiro…” Keith chokes with emotion. He said it, said it. The fear has suddenly disappeared, now Keith is ready to act. He feels euphoria, adrenaline is boiling in his blood. He comes close to Shiro, almost touching his body and throws his hands on Shiro’s shoulders, clasps Shiro’s neck with his palms and pulls him down. Keith’s lips open slightly, he is ready to touch them to Shiro’s lips. Eyes are closing. Keith is struggling to find a foothold, it seems to him that now he will just fall to the floor from an overabundance of emotions. Well, if Shiro falls with him… he won’t mind.

Keith touches Shiro’s lips quickly, passionately and completely clumsily. He feels resistance, because Shiro, frozen, does not help him. But Keith has been waiting for this moment for so long that he hardly notices anything. He reaches out to Shiro, presses his whole body against him, tries to open Shiro's lips so that he kisses him back, and at the moment when Keith is almost ready to believe in his happiness, Shiro suddenly pulls away. This is such a strong movement away that Keith does not immediately understand what is happening.

Shiro looks at him with all his eyes, his lips are parted, and he is breathing heavily, just like Keith, but…

Keith’s hands drop, he feels that he is flying into the abyss.

“Keith… I… Oh, quiznak!” Shiro runs his hand through his hair and keeps his eyes on Keith.

Keith immediately understands everything. He was wrong. Shiro doesn’t feel the same way about him. A wave of shame covers Keith. He was in a hurry. He made hasty conclusions. Why did he kiss Shiro at all? He could only speak, words were enough…

Keith turns away, feeling his face flush. Oh no, no, no… What had he done?

A warm hand rests on his shoulder and Shiro’s voice, slightly shaken, but so soft that it hurts his heart, says, “Keith, I'm sorry, I had no idea…”

Keith wants to throw his arm off his shoulder, wants to yell at Shiro and drive him away, or even better — to turn back time and make sure that this kiss never happened. But he froze, it seems even his heart stopped beating. It just died…

“I’m sorry, Keith,” Shiro continues. He tries to calm Keith down, but with every word the gap between them grows. “But I’m afraid I can’t respond to your feelings. For now, anyway,” he adds a little quieter after a pause.

“It’s all… right,” Keith replies in a barely audible voice.”You just said I had to explain myself…”

“Yes, but I didn’t think you were talking about me!” Keith hears the echoes of panic in Shiro’s voice and grins mirthlessly.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You don’t disappoint… ever, Keith.”

Something in Shiro’s voice, some kind of crack, makes Keith turn to him and look into his eyes again. Oh no, he didn’t want to hurt Shiro. He just wanted to ease his own pain a little.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“It’s fine,” Shiro replies, opening his arms slightly, and Keith falls into the arms of his friend and mentor with relief. Stars, make sure that they remain friends despite this terrible incident. “And you forgive me… This is all too sudden. You’re the last person I’d want to hurt.”

“I know.” Soon Shiro leaves, and Keith lies down on the bed and looks at the ceiling. Waves of pain, then shame, then hope goes through him. Shiro didn’t say it would never happen. Keith smiles, touching her lips. Shiro said, “So far, anyway.” So — Keith turns on his side, curling up into a ball, — he still has a chance. He closes his eyes. “I’ll wait. Until his I can’t love you back yet turns into I already love you.”

#Sheith #Voltron #vld #fanfic #I'm sorry but I needed to write it #Don't curse me for it

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thefreaksrunthisshow · 1 year

Text

I Promise

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson (Steddie)

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff

Warnings: Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Cursing, Reliving Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Confusing reality with past events, Some pretty heavy stuff so DNI if that triggers you!

Summary: The Upside Down almost killed Eddie, but he survived, and he's been unconscious for one year now. Upon reawakening, he discovers Steve has been by his side the whole time waiting for him. Even as Eddie reveals his secrets of experiencing nightmares and PTSD from the events, Steve stays by his side and continues to support him.

Word count: 3,142

Masterlist

Eddie opens his eyes his vision fuzzy for a moment before it finally comes into focus several rather hard blinks later. He glances down at his body to see he is lying in a hospital bed with lots of wires attached to various points of his body.

“It’s about time you woke up,” a gentle voice to his left says. Feeling a light squeeze on his left-hand Eddie glances down to see that a hand is intertwined with his. Following the arm up to find its owner, he lets out a small gasp, which quickly turns into a pained smile as he recognizes the hand’s owner.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, his eyes trailing to his head and then to the window behind him. “This isn’t Hawkins,” he mumbles at the sight of a bustling city with neatly planted trees along the sidewalks, and roads full of backed-up traffic.

“Good eye,” Steve jokes, letting out a soft chuckle, his thumb drawing soft circles on the back of Eddie’s hand. “We aren’t in Hawkins anymore, Ed. Well, actually Hawkins kind of – doesn’t exist – anymore.”

Eddie attempts to sit up but realizes he can’t. “What’s this about?” he asks, wiggling his right arm which happens to be handcuffed to the rail of the bed.

“Oh, that,” Steve glances down at the handcuff and gives Eddie a sheepish grin. “It’s a safety measure.”

“Am I going to jail? I – I thought we could find a way to clear my name, Steve! You know I didn’t kill anyone!” Eddie’s heart pounds and he felt like he might throw up as he begins trying to free himself from Steve’s grip on his hand and from the handcuffs as well. “Come on man! Let me go! I gotta get out of here before they come for me and haul me off! Steve, please!” Eddie pleads.

“Ed! Eddie! Relax!” Steve exclaims, holding down Eddie by his shoulders being careful to not put too much force on him in his current frail state. “You’ve been cleared of all charges.”

“I – What?” Eddie’s heart rate begins to slow down, and he stops trying to fight back. Slumping onto the bed again his eyes find Steve’s. “So, what’s the deal with this then?” he questions pulling his right arm so that the handcuffs hit the metal bed rail with a clink.

“When we went back for you something weird happened, Ed. Y- You were dead, but you also weren’t dead, somehow a part of you was still clinging to life. So, we rushed you to the nearest hospital outside of Hawkins, this one in fact. We didn’t give them a name or anything but soon enough it came out that you were suspected of murder. The police came but the hospital’s policy said they couldn’t release you because you were in a coma and needed treatment still. That bought us some time.” Steve sighs. “Long story short, the Upside Down revealed itself in Hawkins, caused mayhem, and in the process, it proved you were innocent. After all, you couldn’t murder people when you were in a coma, right? We managed to evacuate the whole town and seal off all the gates, but in the process, Hawkins was destroyed.”

“Okay. But you still haven’t answered my handcuff question, Harrington.”

“Well,” Steve pauses, “we’ve never dealt with anyone coming back from the dead before, not like this anyway. We wanted to be sure you weren’t going to come back as a zombie or some shit.”

Eddie can’t help it; he starts laughing uncontrollably tears streaming down his face as he pulls a stitch in his side. “I’m going to eat your brain for assuming such a thing, Steve!” He begins rambling “Brains! Brains! Give me your brains! I must eat!” and snarls like an animal. The act has Steve hunched over with laughter.

“Eddie! God! Cut it out, man!” Steve chuckles, lightly slapping Eddie on the arm with a light pink blush settled across his cheeks.

“Let’s buzz the nurse, they will want to know you’re awake and I’m sure they have a lot of tests to run to ensure you are all good so they can remove that nice new accessory on your wrist.”

~~~

Eddie soon discovers that he’s been unconscious for a whole year and a lot of shit went down during that time. Steve does his best to inform him of details whenever they arise instead of just pumping him full of new information all at once and overloading him. Plus, it’s better he doesn’t know all the details about some things anyway. Eddie appreciates how gentle and calm Steve is with answering all his questions and filling him in on the information he needs to know.

Uncle Wayne, Nancy, Robin, and all the kids come to visit Eddie in the hospital as often as they are able. Wayne keeps asking Eddie if he’s going to move into their nice new place down the street courtesy of the government to cover up all the stuff that went down in Hawkins but Eddie’s not so sure he wants to. Steve has asked him to live with him at his apartment while he continues to recover and the thought of that makes his heartbeat just a bit faster and brings a warm glow to his cheeks. He’s sure Steve has noticed, but he doesn’t mind; Eddie likes to wear his heart on his sleeve, a near death experience can do that to someone.

Through chats with his Uncle Wayne, Eddie discovers that Steve has scarcely left his side the whole year and had stayed countless nights in the hospital pleading with Eddie’s lifeless body to wake up. Wayne tells him that he doesn’t know this Steve guy, but Eddie better not fuck up whatever is going on between them because he seems like a keeper. Eddie smiles and agrees that Steve is one in a million and he promises to hold onto him and treat him right.

As Eddie begins rehab, Steve continues to stay by his side, arranging his work schedule around Eddie’s rehab schedule so he can be present for all of Eddie’s milestones. He’s there while Eddie relearns many of the fundamental things he once took for granted. Steve never stops cheering him on and showing him that he is there for him and that he believes in him.Three months of rehab later, Eddie is cleared to be discharged from the hospital. He must admit that he’s rather nervous to see how much the world has changed in the year he’s been gone but he’s also excited. It’s like he’s been reborn; he’s been given a second chance.

Due to his bravery and his sacrifice Eddie was given an honorary high school diploma. While part of him wishes he could have had one more chance to graduate on his own, he would never dare turn down the generosity. Who knows how many more years it would have taken him to get his shit together enough to graduate on his own? He cringes at that thought; he’s ready to put his past behind him and start new. Well, almost all his past anyway. Eddie refuses to let go of his newfound family in Steve, Robin, Nancy, and of course, the kids as well. Most of the rest of the shit he’s been through, specifically concerning that place (he refuses to say the name of it anymore and those closest to him respect his wishes and do not dredge up the past), he’d rather forget, and he does his best to do so. But sometimes, the trauma slips up on him when he’s alone and he has hope that it will ease with more time.

“So, you get to leave tomorrow son. What are your plans? My place is always welcome to you, you know,” Wayne says as he sits down on the edge of the hospital bed beside Eddie.

“I know,” Eddie sighs. “I think I’m going to move in with Steve. He’s asked several times and I know he will be more able to help care for me right now.”

Wayne puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and pats him gently. “Nice choice, Ed. Call me if you ever need anything and I’ll be there, I swear. Don’t forget about your uncle.”

“I’ll do one better than just call; I’ll be sure to visit often.” Eddie wraps his arms around Wayne’s neck, pulling him in for a hug.

They say their goodbyes for the time being while Steve slips into the room, his eyes darting back and forth between the two as he takes a seat in the corner, his leg bouncing uncontrollably. He quickly becomes consumed by his own thoughts as he daydreams about the impossible circumstance which is Eddie moving in with him.

“Why are you looking at me like that, big boy?” Eddie teases.

Steve snaps back to reality and realizes he had been staring at Eddie’s lips. Rolling his eyes and playing it cool Steve offers little insight into what he was thinking. “You gonna move in with him tomorrow I assume?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’m coming home with you babe.”

Babe? Steve blushes at Eddie calling him that and he lets out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Really?”

“Of course.”

Steve smiles wide and before he knows it, he’s jumped to his feet and subconsciously made his way over to the hospital bed, he knows what he wants to do but he doesn’t know if he has the courage. Eddie is a bit taken aback by his actions and props himself up on his pillows.

“Scoot over, Ed.”

Eddie swallows hard and does as Steve says, sliding over in the small hospital bed to make room for Steve who climbs in next to him. Steve gently lifts Eddie’s head and places his arm under it before pulling Eddie close enough that his head is lying on his chest, their legs intertwined. Using his other hand, Steve rubs small circles on Eddie’s back as he relaxes into his touch and snuggles closer.

“I am so glad you didn’t die, Ed. I – I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Steve mumbles into Eddie’s hair.

Looking up at Steve with his big chocolate eyes Eddie smiles. “That makes two of us.”

~~~

A week later Steve and Eddie are still tiptoeing around the events that occurred in the hospital bed the day before Eddie’s release. Both boys feigning innocence when Wayne returned the next morning to help with Eddie’s discharge and found them fast asleep in each other’s arms. Wayne doesn’t know why they won’t both accept their feelings and make things official, but they’ve both been through some shit, perhaps they just need more time.

Eddie has since moved in with Steve into his small two-bedroom apartment. Much to Eddie’s surprise, Steve had been fixing up the spare room for him for a while, outfitting it with some posters of his favorite bands, some D&D figures, a few new dice sets, and various other items that reminded him of Eddie. Everything stuck to one color scheme: red and black. Not having the heart in him to tell him that his favorite color isn’t actually red since Steve put so much work into it, Eddie decides that red is indeed his new favorite color and embraces it. Between Wayne bringing over his guitar and other personal items, the apartment has started to really feel like home.

The night that Eddie moved in Steve told him that he had kept the denim vest he had given him to wear that night and after digging around in his closet he pulls it out from where he had it stored in a keepsake bag to keep it in pristine condition. Eddie had almost attacked him with kisses and dropped to his knees right then and asked him to marry him, feigning his kneel to tie one of his shoelaces, which of course wasn’t untied in the slightest. Eddie noticed the deep red blush settling across Steve’s face and he mentally made note of the image to tuck it away for later.

Though life is looking up for Eddie, he still struggles with PTSD concerning his near-death experience. For a while, he is able to hide his outbursts in the middle of the night from Steve but one night proves all too much and he finds himself outside of Steve’s bedroom door at 3 am. A particularly severe nightmare had woken him tonight and he knows he can’t be alone. Everything in his body is telling him to run away, to pretend that everything is okay and that he is recovering, but Eddie is tired of running from both his past and his feelings toward Steve. His arm hovers in midair as he contemplates knocking on Steve’s door before the ‘fuck it’ runs through his mind and instead he yanks the door open and waltzes in like he owns the place. He’s been in Steve’s room plenty of times before but tonight feels different.

Steve is still peacefully asleep with a string of drool running out the side of his mouth. Eddie smiles at how cute he looks sleeping there for a moment before a flashback begins to violently ripple through him. Dropping to the ground as the demon bats begin to tear into his skin repeatedly, he bites down on his hand, tasting the blood as it begins to trickle out. This is the first time he’s experienced something like this while awake though the memories often plague his dreams. He tries his best to stifle his screams so he doesn’t wake Steve, but he soon realizes the pain is too much and it overcomes him.

Eddie lets out an ear-piercing scream followed by several strings of curses as he writhes in pain on the floor trying to escape from his imaginary attackers. Though he knows what he is experiencing isn’t real, it doesn’t help ease the pain in the slightest. His grip on reality continues to fade by the second as he continues to slip deeper into his mind, reliving the events that almost took his life.

The shrieks of Eddie stir Steve from his slumber; he jumps to his feet and runs over to him, kneeling and placing a gentle hand on him to try and get Eddie to stop convulsing around on the floor but it’s no use. Eddie’s eyes are unfocused, and he’s clearly not present at the given moment. Steve’s not exactly sure what is happening, but he knows something is really wrong.

“ED! WHAT’S GOING ON?” Steve frantically screams, straddling Eddie to keep him still so he doesn’t hurt himself with all his thrashing. “Please, Ed! Please be okay!” he pleads, tears beginning to well in his eyes.

As suddenly as it started, Eddie soon ceases his movement and his eyes slowly come back into focus, blinking as they find Steve on top of him, his wide eyes staring down in a mix of concern and shock with tears streaming down his face.

“Eds! Are you okay? Can you hear me?” Steve says gently, climbing off Eddie to sit next to him on the floor. He reaches out a hand to push his curls out of his face.

“I’m about as far from okay as I can be,” Eddie mummers as the tears begin to fall. He pulls his knees to his chest and curls up into a ball on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

The moment Steve picks Eddie up and puts him in his lap, he doesn't think twice about it. Keeping Eddie close to his chest, he gently plays with his hair as he snuggles into the crook of his neck. Steve whispers reassuring words into Eddie's ear, kissing his hair lightly as he rocks back and forth a bit. “You can talk to me about it, you know that Ed,” Steve says gently.

Eddie nods knowingly; he isn't sure if his words will come out, but he is damn sure he will try to tell Steve what he has been going through. In tears, he recounts the details of the night and how he just relived the worst experience of his life, then he reveals what he's been hiding from Steve. Continuing to spill his guts, he tells Steve about his nightmares, flashbacks, and how his memories have begun to bleed into his everyday life. In the meantime, Steve pays attention closely to Eddie, giving him his full attention. It's not anger he feels, but an intense desire to protect his loved one that he feels as he stares into those chocolate button eyes, losing himself in the moment of their intimate closeness as Eddie’s secrets are finally revealed.

While barely uttering a word, Steve carries Eddie to his bed and tucks him in, giving him a glass of water from his nightstand to sip as he sits on the bed beside him. Choking on the water but forcing it down to provide some relief to his sandpaper-like throat, Eddie chugs the whole glass.

“You’ve been having nightmares this whole time?”

Eddie nods.

“Why didn’t you come to me before?”

“I didn’t wanna bother you,” Eddie shrugs.

“Honey, you are never a bother to me. You are always welcome to sleep with me in my bed.” Facepalming as he thinks about his last words, Steve pauses, his face turning a deep shade of red. “Shit, I – I didn’t mean it like that. I meant if you ever need to, ya know, not be alone at night – Fuck. That doesn’t sound any better does it?”

Eddie starts laughing uncontrollably; he just can’t help it. “Come on, baby. I think you wouldn’t mind that either,” he winks with a shit-eating grin on his face as his usual joker personality slowly begins to return to him as the after shock of his episode fades.

“I – Eddie!” Steve playfully slaps his arm and rolls his eyes.

“Come on Stevie. We both know there’s no way in hell I’m sleeping alone tonight.” Patting the edge of the bed, Eddie scoots over to make room for Steve who quickly jumps in beside him.

As Steve takes Eddie into his arms and stares into his warm brown eyes, he whispers in Eddie's ear, "You won't ever have to sleep alone again." Darting his gaze down, he leans forward and takes a deep breath before capturing Eddie's lips. His lips part slightly as Eddie gasps into his mouth, relaxing and deepening the kiss.

While blinking hard, they pull back from the kiss, analyzing the other's expression. Neither of them is surprised to see that the other's face is written only with love and compassion. They realized at that moment they had wasted a lot of time tiptoeing around their feelings.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie fluff #thefreaksrunthisshow #eddie lives #eddie munson lives au

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akillysheel · 2 years

Text

You Can’t Fool Me. ❜ ( 1/75 )

Summary: Kip gets more than she bargained for when she steals a man’s wallet. Characters: Kip, Jagger. Prompt: ❝ You can’t fool me. ❞ Warnings: Threat, mild violence, references to drugs and volatile mood swings.

A/N: I started a new drabble challenge in the hopes that it’ll get me out of a writer’s block! There’re no set characters nor prompts, but I think a lot of them will focus on Kip and Simon and the people in their lives, as well as their eventual crossover.

Kip winces as her face is pushed into the wall, its uneven surface digging into the soft skin of her cheek. “Hey, stop! That HURTS, you jerk!”

The stranger lets out a cold, humourless laugh, one that digs into her almost as much as the scratchy concrete does. Most houses in Leylan are sanded clean and even, though the alleyways are sometimes neglected. Why dedicate outstanding effort to places fit only to house their garbage cans? They’re a fussy breed, but they draw the line at futile endeavours.

His gloved hand is hot and heavy against the back of her head, fingers curling into her thick lavender hair and tugging her harshly upright. Her heart pounds like a drum as her back melds tight against his front. Fear tastes like the inner wall of a chimney, thick and ashen on her tongue as she clutches the neck of her keytar case for all it’s worth. She tries to tell herself that she doesn’t claim it, that it can’t take over and make her weak, but she’s terrified of this man.

“Let’s try this again.” His voice is smooth, singed deep with a mocking calm. “My produce. Where is it?”

“I told you I DON’T KNOW!” She struggles then– attempts to tug her keytar loose and swing it at him, but she isn’t quick enough. His large hand catches her wrist and bends her arm behind her head at an angle that borders on unnatural. Kip is a lot of things: a smart-mouthed pick-pocket, a darling sister, a talented musician - but she isn’t a masochist. Her pain tolerance has always been horrid, and the idea of having her bone snapped in a shady back alley has a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead, breath coming out in short, shallow puffs. “L-Let go, let me go–”

“See, I want to! I do. But that guy you looted–” He pauses to dig his thumb into her wrist, hard, as if he’s attempting to nestle it between the tendons without opening her up first. “He works for me. I’ve got to protect my own. And my business.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kip blubbers, knees wobbling. The last thing she wants to do right now is cry, but her resolve is crumbling fast. She can deal with rude people all day long, but big men that are morally bankrupt enough to get physical with her? It quickly becomes apparent how little she is in comparison.

“Mm… nah. I don't believe you. You can’t fool me.”

A strangled cry leaves her as he slowly applies pressure to her already-aching arm, fat tears stinging the corners of her eyes before rolling down her cheeks. “I–I don’t! I swear, I j–just took his wallet! I didn’t want anything else– I d-don’t know who you are!”

The man hesitates for a moment. The streets may have dulled his empathy somewhat, but they haven’t turned him into stone. He knows crying when he hears it. If this woman is lying, she’s quite the talented actress - and he gathers, from the instrument slung across her middle, that her skills lie in other areas. Slowly, he releases her, shoving her away from him with a callous thrust of his forearm. As soon as she makes impact with the wall behind her, she all but crumbles against it, legs shaking so hard that it’s a wonder she remains standing at all.

“Speak,” he demands tersely, shoulders squared in case she attempts to swing at him again. If she does, he’ll make sure it’s the last move she ever makes. “Who the fuck are you? Hm? Why’d you rob him if not for the spice?”

Kip stares up at him as if she’s seen a ghost. “S-Spice?”

Things are starting to click into place, albeit gradually. The shady back alley, the man’s cold exterior, this obsession with brotherhood and money and belonging… she’d unwittingly gotten her hands on more than she bargained for when she stole that man’s wallet. Not that she’d even known, for she’d emptied it of bills and coins before tossing it into a gutter. She sniffles pathetically, her arm (the one that hadn’t been bent behind her head like a makeshift boomerang) swiping across her face in an effort to rid it of tears. Her skin feels clammy to the touch. “No, I… I don’t do things like that. I–I just needed money.”

“You make money by selling those tabs, idiot.” He’s growing increasingly impatient with this girl, and the more she talks, the more he fears what he’ll have to do to keep her silent. He doesn’t take any pleasure in hurting people. Pride, perhaps, but not pleasure.

“Look, I didn’t know. I didn’t!” She grits her teeth, sharp canines bared in the form of a fierce snarl in spite of her red-rimmed eyes. She’s through with grovelling - and she’s through with this man’s accusations, too. He may be a street-rat, may have subscribed to a life of crime and debauchery, but her only sin is stealing cash to feed herself and her brother. “Look at me! I’m a low-life wannabe musician. I’m playing gigs in shitty bars with ten people in them at max. I have no money! I have no university degree! I have NOTHING! I have my brother and that’s it. You think I know ANYTHING about drugs or gangs or what part of town you run? I just want to pay rent.” She clamps her teeth over the tip of her tongue until the urge to cry again passes. “I know it’s wrong to steal. Just like you probably know it's wrong to sell these things. But I need to live. What else can I do?!”

There are several answers to that question, but he dares not say any of them. He's in a position where most of them can be thrown back in his face. Just get a regular old job. Stop putting others at risk. Just pick a different target.

He pinches the space between his eyes with a grunt of irritation. “At least give the guy his damn wallet back. Where is it?”

“I threw it away somewhere…”

He stares at her as if she’s spoken a foreign language, brow knitting with confusion before it becomes a hateful crease. “You stole it just to toss it?”

“I didn’t wanna be caught with ID that wasn’t mine, s-so I emptied it of cash and then threw it away.”

“There were eight tabs in there, you idiot! You’re telling me you didn’t see them while emptying his fucking wallet?!” He leans in close, and she instinctively backs away, pressing herself tight against the wall. Her teal eyes are blown wide with fear, her fingers closed tight around the neck of her instrument. “Do you have any idea how much money down the drain that is?! Shit’s EXPENSIVE!”

“I–I’m sorry–”

“Oh, you’re sorry!” He throws his arms upwards, and the need for subtlety leaves him completely. “Pack it up, fellas! The girl’s sorry!” Predictably, nobody comes running. Leylan may be a communal place, but people know better than to interrupt the goings-on in dingy sside-streets. There’s a reason that people like him operate in the shadows of dumpsters. He thrusts a finger so close to her face that Kip worries it’s going to go straight into her eye. “You owe me a lot of money, lady.”

“B–But I don’t have any…” It’s all but a whisper, watery and frail. She has very little to her name. An apartment she shares with Basil; an old treehouse that has no monetary value; the most she could do is attempt to pawn off some of the retro consoles sitting in that place, though it would break her heart to do so.

“Then you’d best make some,” the man hisses, pointing at her keytar. “I’m sure you can–”

“No!” Kip draws the instrument protectively behind her, shielding it from view. Her face is the equivalent of a pond’s rippling surface, cycling through emotions so quickly that it’s all but imperceptible. She wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to drop to her knees and beg– and yet she wants to do none of them, disgusted by the thought of giving into this man and his less-than-glowing personality. She’s grown to oppose those that are mean, and he has to be the most unpleasant person she’s crossed paths with in a long time.

… but this is her mess. Whether it was intentional or not, the result is irrefutable. Feeling guilty for being the cause of a drug dealer’s misery is arguably misplaced, but Kip hates to be at the centre of another’s inconvenience. Besides, she may not be interested in what he’s selling, but it isn’t as if stealing is much better. Two wrongs evidently don’t make a right.

Kip sucks in a steady breath, trying her best to look distinctly more adult than she feels. “I can work for you.”

Her eyes are trained on his face in spite of the mounting urge to run. She watches it change like the seasons, the kink in his brow gradually smoothing out, mouth twitching upwards with mirth. His unpredictable emotions threaten her almost as much as his physical build does.

“That’s less bad to you than selling your instrument?” His tone performs a dance, light and airy in spite of the grim arrangement forming between them. If nothing else, this girl is interesting. He’s seldom met somebody who has no interest in drugs that’ll then throw themselves into his path, not even out of necessity.

Hollowly, Kip nods. “This thing’s all I have that’s mine. It’s front and centre in everything that I do. If I lose it, I won’t be able to do gigs or…” Against her better judgement, she feels her face heat up with slight embarrassment. “Or post videos online…”

“Ugh, you’re one of those people… figures.”

She very nearly stamps her foot and yells at him to shut up, but her sense of self-preservation is thankfully just a little too sharp to do so. Instead, she swallows hard, like forcing down a bitter spoonful of medicine, before straightening her spine even further. She won’t be intimidated by him.

“I can do it. If I owe you money, I can work for you until I pay off my debt.” She lets a confident smile stretch across her face, despite the fact that she couldn’t possibly be further out of her depth. “How much do I owe you?”

“Around 40,000 paals.”

“What?!” And there goes the confident smile, replaced with an expression so stunned that it almost evokes pity from the man. “For eight tabs? What the hell is that extortion?!”

“Hey, I deal, I know how much it is. You clearly don’t understand what it takes to make this shit so pipe down, tiny.” His voice is back to that low, dangerous whir, and Kip backs off much like she would from a hungry lion. “You’re noisy, you know. It’s really off-putting.” A smirk crosses his face then. “But you’re fast, too. And street-smart. They’re two traits you need to do well out here. I think you could do it.”

He won’t admit it to her face, but he feels bad for her. She’s a prime example of someone who’s suffering the brunt of karma early, and probably disproportionately. She looks young and arguably as desperate as she makes out, clad in nothing but a muddied red jacket that is miles too big for her, cheap leggings and boots that look about ready to fall apart. It contrasts his suave black coat and his tailored waistcoat so plainly that it’s ugly. He wonders briefly if her brother has anything to do with this apparent poverty. Why is it only her getting her hands dirty for the sake of obtaining cash? If they live together, they’re stuck in the same space, in the same circumstances. What is he doing to help?

“... fine,” he says eventually, nodding. “I’ll take you on. But you won’t see a single coin of what you earn, understand? It's mine.”

Kip gulps and begrudgingly nods her head, only partially relieved when he claps and smiles. It’s wide this time, arguably real, but the veil of pleasantry is so thin that it’s all but translucent. She can see the shark beyond it, all black-eyed and jagged-toothed.

“Great! Then meet me here tomorrow. 7AM sharp. Don’t be late. If you are…”

“I won’t be!” Kip interrupts, waving her hands in a desperate attempt to appease him. She’s normally not one to take threats seriously, but he’s already proven that he can and will hurt her if she does something that he doesn’t like. She makes an attempt to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. “I’ll be here. B-Bright and early…”

He knocks her chin gently with a gloved hand, as if greeting a pet dog, before turning his back on her. To him, there’s no reason to worry about letting her go; he’s made his intentions clear. She’ll be seeing more of him regardless of the choice she makes. “I hope so. A young lady disappearing isn’t something I want to be hearing about on the radio, you know. What a buzzkill when you’re just trying to have your morning coffee, right?”

Kip deflates, the pin-prick tip of his threat popping what’s left of her resolve like a balloon.

I’m dead. I’m so, very dead.

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #short story #drabble challenge #oc story #original cast #fandomless oc story #drabble #drabble challenge ;#kip ;#terrence ;#tomorrow ;

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alcinadimitrescuwu · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Family, Boy (Alcina x Fem!Reader Fanfic)

First thank you all for your support for my first Dimitrescu fanfic. I truly appreciate it and all the support this community has given me on. Let's go on to the next one, shall we?

Premise: After a long and stressful week, your wife Alcina wants to help you let off some steam. However, your amorous activities are cut short by an unexpected surprise.

Warning: blood. There are some steamy scenes in here but nothing explicit, so it's mostly safe for work.

As you climb the stairs to your bedroom, you heave a great sigh. It’s been a long and stressful week. Daniela had caused a small fire in the wine cellar basement by knocking over a lantern when she had gotten a little too eager for a feeding. It was eventually put out, but the corpse was burned in the process. Alcina had been furious at the waste of resources. It had taken a full day to get rid of the ash, but the basement was clean. Well, as clean as it could be. Aside from the wine cellar, Alcina didn’t seem to care much about cleaning up the basement. Well, it was over now. Now you just couldn’t wait to curl up next to your wife and get a good sleep.

You arrive at your doorway and hear Maria Callas singing “Casta Diva” from within. You smile. Your mutual love for opera was one of the first things you discussed as you were courting. Before you reach your hand to knock at the door, you hear Alcina call, “Is that you iubirea mea?”

“Yes, dear,” you reply. You stretch your arms behind your head. “Oh, I just can’t wait to get into bed-” Your voice cuts off as you see what your wife is wearing. She is wearing a black peignoir and as she stands up, she casts it off to reveal a black and red lingerie set.

She smiles wickedly. “I can’t wait to get into bed with you either.”

You don’t move. You can only stare. Her scarlet lips match the exact shade of the lingerie. Without any sleeves, you see her muscular arms and you blush as you recall what those arms feel like wrapped around you. Her legs are on full display as well with a red stocking clipped to a garter. They reach up to your shoulders and you have spent many a time nestled in them with your head on her lap. You open your mouth to reply but find nothing coming out.

Alcina pouts and puts one hand behind her on the bed. “Come, pet,” she purrs, beckoning you with a red fingernail. “You’re not going to stand there all day, are you?”

You don’t say anything. You cross the space between you and your wife in three steps and launch yourself over into her waiting arms. The scent of her perfume is overwhelming and you breathe it in. You close your eyes and kiss her chin, her laugh lines and finally her lips. She laughs through the kiss and holds your head between her hands. “Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Don’t talk,” you rasp, your voice full of desire.

She smiles. “All right, draga mea. No talking then.” She kisses you deeply and you weave your hands through her locks.

She picks you up and carries you across the room, kissing all the while until you reach the wall. You lean your head on the wall behind you and wrap your legs around her waist. “I’ve needed this, my love,” you whisper against her lips.

Ding dong!

You hear the doorbell resound through the castle. You break the kiss and fix her with a quizzical expression. “Were you expecting anyone?” you ask.

She shakes her head quickly. “No. Could be a solicitor. Could be a vampire hunter coming to put a stake in all our hearts.” Her golden eyes are glazed over with desire. “Right now I couldn’t care less at the moment.” She nuzzles your neck and you sigh. She breaks away and looks at you, an unasked question in her eyes. She’s hungry. You nod your consent and she pulls away your nightgown to bear your neck and shoulders. She pulls you close and bites your neck and feeds on the blood pooling around your neck. You feel her neck working against your chest as she drinks. You take pleasure in every gasp and moan she makes. You feel pleasantly light-headed by the time she pulls away with a satisfied sigh.

Ding dong!

Alcina groans and bares her teeth in anger. “It’s getting too late for this!”

You caress her jaw. “Dear, maybe we should answer it. It could be an emergency.”

She shakes her head impatiently. “It’s probably some snot-nosed kid playing a prank.” She lifts your chin with a finger and gives you a seductive grin. “Don’t focus on it right now, pet. Right now is about you and me.”

“You’re probably right-” She stops the rest of your sentence with a rough kiss, opening your mouth with her tongue. Her hand travels up your leg and her hand making contact against your bare leg gives you a pleasant chill. Her hand rests on your thigh and she pushes you up against the wall again while using her nimble fingers to unhook your garter.

Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!

Alcina gives a frustrated growl. “Damn it to hell!”

“Darling,” you say gently petting her arm as a signal to set you down. “If it were kids, they’d be bored and have gone home by now. I’m going to check who it is.”

Your wife crosses her arms and gives an adorable pout. “Fine. Do what you want.”

You adjust your nightgown and wipe any leftover blood and lipstick off your neck. As you walk to the door, Alcina gently puts your dressing gown around your shoulders. You catch her hand and give it a kiss. “I’ll be with you shortly. I just need to get dressed.”

You smile at her. “Very well, darling.” As you turn to leave the door, Alcina catches your shoulder and whispers huskily, “And after we get back, we will most certainly get back the lost time that nuisance has stolen from us.”

You blush furiously and kiss her goodbye. As you walk down the stairs, you hear the doorbell ring again. Once, twice, three times. “Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’m coming.” You grasp the brass handles and with a great effort manage to open the doors wide. You’re jealous of Alcina in moments like these. She could open the doors with such ease that you forget that each door weighed hundreds of pounds.

You are surprised to see Heisenberg holding something wrapped in cloth. You can’t help but smile when you see Heisenberg. Heisenberg and Alcina may be like oil and water, but the two of you liked each other almost instantly. He told you once that “anyone who could put up with that bitch for more than 20 seconds must be a good person. And you have to put up with her for life!”

Heisenberg returns your smile. “Hi, hon.”

“Hi Karl. How about you come in and warm up with a nice cup of tea?” You stand aside to allow him in. “Come on. It’s freezing out there.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, honey, but I really can’t stay long. Is your ball and chain around? This question concerns her too.”

“Heisenberg,” you hear your wife’s drawl. You both look to see her descending the stairs. There is no evidence of your amorous activities as she has on a fresh coat of lipstick, is fully dressed and her hair is pinned perfectly in place under her hat. “To what do I owe this rather unpleasant surprise?”

Heisenberg clenches his teeth. “Believe me, I wouldn’t come here unless it was an emergency.”

“Then what is it?” Alcina asks as she puts her left hand on your shoulder. You reach up to cover it with your own. “Out with it, and be on your way. Some of us would rather be in bed right now.”

Heisenberg notes your kiss-swollen lips and a hickey already starting to form on your neck. “Yes, I suppose some of us rather would.”

Alcina’s eyes flash and she grits her teeth. “Heisenberg, I swear-”

Heisenberg puts up a placating hand while he holds the bundle with his other. “Ok, ok. I’ll cut to the chase then. Sheesh, do you have any sense of humor?” He unwraps the bundle to reveal a mewling French bulldog. It can’t be more than a couple weeks old.

As you place your hand on your heart Heisenberg continues. “I found him outside of his house. Whole damned family was slaughtered. He needs a place to stay. I thought this might be the best place for him.”

You look at your wife with pleading eyes, but she gives a sharp, “No.”

“Darling-”

“No.” She glares at Heisenberg. “Why can’t you take him in? Maybe it would be an opportunity for you to learn some responsibility for once in your cursed existence.”

You see Heisenberg roll his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Yes, and I’d be responsible for him being torn apart by Lycans. I’m not taking him in. It’s not safe for him there.”

You take your wife’s hand in yours. “Darling, please reconsider. We can’t turn the poor thing away. Besides, our daughters would love having a d-”

She immediately puts a hand over your mouth. “Don’t say it,” she warns, looking furtively around the foyer.

“What?” you ask against her hand. “Dog?”

Almost immediately your daughters, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela materialize from their fly shrouds. They zero in on the dog and Cassandra takes him out of Heisenberg’s hands and the other two crowd around her and begin cooing to it, and letting it sniff and lick their fingers.

Alcina covers her face with her hands. “Now you’ve done it, love.”

The girls look up from their ministrations to the dog and as one rush over to your wife, carrying the dog over with them. They begin speaking up all at once. “Mother, please can we keep him?” “Mother, look how cute he is!” “Mother, Cassandra’s been hogging the dog all this time and it’s my turn to hold him!”

“Enough!” Alcina’s voice booms around the foyer. She puts two fingers in the space between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. She sighs aloud. “God, I need a smoke.” She turns to her daughters and with a long suffering sigh says, “Fine. We’ll keep the little mongrel.”

All three daughters erupt into cheers and you can’t help but smile indulgently at them. Daniela runs over and throws her arms around your neck in jubilation. “Maman, did you hear that? We get to have a dog finally!”

“Yes, dearest, I did hear that.” You drop a kiss on her head and she scampers over to take the dog which Cassandra begrudgingly hands to her.

Heisenberg grins and reaches in his pocket. “I have some food and a water bottle for him,” he says, handing you the aforementioned items. “The Duke should have some more, but that’s all I have right now.”

“Thank you Karl,” you say, reaching over to scratch the dog behind his ears. “We’ll take good care of it, won’t we girls?”

“Yes, Maman!” they all answer in unison.

“I’ll be off then!” Heisenberg turns to leave but not before shouting over his shoulder, “And I think he should fit in pretty nicely around here, especially since the Lady of the House is such a bi-”

In an instant, Alcina has him off the ground and has her claws extended only a few inches from his neck. “Heisenberg, did you want to finish that sentence?” she asks sweetly.

You can’t help but laugh. “Let him down, my love. It’s not worth getting so riled up this late at night”

“Fine,” she says and sets him down not too gently. He brushes himself off and glares at Alcina for the rough landing. She just flashes a smile and you notice that only her middle finger is extended in claw form. You look at your daughters, but they are too busy with the dog to notice the obscene hand gesture.

“All right, this time I’m really off.” he says, turning around and walking towards the castle gates.

“Girls, what do you say?” you prompt.

“Thank you, Uncle Karl!” they chorus. Bela snatches the dog and runs upstairs, vanishing in her bug shroud. The girls run after her, Daniela yelling down the hall, “No fair! I wasn’t finished with him yet!”

Alcina closes the doors and leans against them, sighing. “I just hope this wasn’t a mistake.”

You take her hand and kiss it. “Nothing we can do about it now, my love. Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s getting late.” The two of you hold hands and once you arrive at your shared bedroom, Alcina immediately locks the door, pulls you close and fixes you with a wolfish grin. “Now where were we, draga mea?”

“I thought you said you wanted to smoke first?” You laugh and wrap your arms around her neck.

“Ah, iubirea mea,” she say picking you up again and giving you a sloppy kiss. “Cigarettes always taste better after sex.”

You kiss her as you unbutton her dress and she puts her hand in the same spot on your thigh as before, this time successfully unhooking your garter. You bite her lip playfully and she gives a little growl of pleasure.

The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door and you hear Daniela’s voice, “Mother? Maman? The dog peed all over the carpet in Bela’s room!”

“Only because you led him there!” you hear Bela retort.

Alcina leans her forehead against yours and starts swearing in Romanian. You give her a kiss and pat her hand before you see to your daughters.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #re8 village #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina x maiden #lady dimitrescu x female reader #bela dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Patient 1: Addiction

Pairing: Toji x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Predator and Prey themes, Cum play, Knife play, Non-Con, Degradation

Link to: Prologue

Patient Name: Fushiguro Toji

Diagnosis: Adrenaline Addiction

Your brow furrows as you stare down at your first patient’s files. An addiction isn’t uncommon, but to adrenaline? You suppose it’s possible to become addicted to just about anything. Yet there are a million questions buzzing on the tip of your tongue as you turn to Uraume who just shrugs and says you’re better off hearing it straight from Toji’s own mouth.

Everything about this psychiatric facility is strange and you curiously stare at the elevator buttons as both of you descend, noting how each button has a name of a patient next to it with the final button having no label.

“Each patient has their own floor. They’ve been here for so long that we thought it would be more humane to give them ample room to live in instead of the standard patient rooms you typically see in other facilities. After all, we’re not here to treat them like caged animals, right?”

The humanitarian in you can’t defy that logic, but you can’t help but wonder if it’s safe for them to not be bound during your session, only to cringe at your own thoughts. They’re just ill patients, humans just like you, not prisoners. With that newfound determination you stride out of the elevator only to freeze when you hear the outer elevator cage slam close on your heels.

You turn, hoping to see Uraume right behind you, but your heart sinks when you see them safely on the other side of the metal fence, an eerie grin on their face as the actual elevator doors slide shut, leaving you with some parting words.

“I’ll see you when you’re done seeing all your patients today.”

Not even seconds pass before you’re scrambling to look for a button or anything to help pry open the elevator doors, fear overwhelming you as Uraume’s ominous farewell haunts you. But there’s no escape and you turn around to take in your surroundings, trembling and on the verge of tears.

Expansive is an understatement and you nervously walk around the dimly lit area, quickly losing track of all the rooms, corridors, and dead ends you bypass and amble through despite doing your best to keep track of everything. It almost feels like it’s meant to be a maze or obstacle course of sorts…

“Well, well, well. Look at the new little mouse I’ve found.”

Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest only to still in shock when you see a familiar face grinning at you, immediately connecting it to the manilla folder tightly clenched in your hands.

“Fushiguro Toji?”

“And you must be the new shrink. Follow me, doc. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. They always do.”

You don’t want to think about what’s happened to your predecessors, this “they” Toji’s referring to. You don’t want to follow this stranger. You don’t want to be trapped in this unknown environment with a highly dangerous patient and no means of escape. But what choice do you have? And with limbs weighted with despair, you trail after the dark haired man.

You’re surprised when Toji leads you into a room not far off from the police interrogation rooms you’ve seen in movies. A single table with a chair on either side are the only furniture in the room and you quietly take a seat across from where Toji has casually slumped himself down. But you note how his large stature easily overwhelms the small space, making the substantial table between you seem meaningless.

There’s silence as you fidget and fumble with Toji’s file, trying to find any professionalism and composure you have left as said patient continues leering at you, an amused smirk ever present on his face. It feels silly to treat this like any other examination, but it seems like the only thing you can do, what Toji himself is expecting of you.

“What is...what is adrenaline addiction, in your own words?”

You wonder if this is what opening Pandora’s box felt like, the question barely out of your mouth before regret instantly seizes you as Toji’s grin only grows wider and sharper, a crazed look in his eyes when he replies.

“It means I like being excited a little too much, doc.”

“And what excites you?”

You don’t want to know his response, but it’s the only way forward and dread fills you as he responds.

“Oh, lots of things. The burn of my throat and rush to my head after taking a shot. Gambling and the uncertainty of whether you’ll win or lose. The look of despair on my victim’s face when I shove a knife through their beating heart. The way it feels so fucking perfect to shove my dick in any tight hole it’ll fit in. But you know what makes me the most excited, doc?”

It’s theatrical how he tapers off, green eyes piercing you as he silently orders you to acknowledge him. And all you can do is shake your head side to side, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you play right into his hands.

“What makes me the most excited is the thrill of hunting pretty prey like you.”

Instincts have you jumping out of your chair and bolting from the room. You don’t dare turn to see if Toji is chasing you down, his amused cackle at your expense trailing behind you. You’re blindly running, no sense of direction as you randomly turn left and right, your only prerogative to keep moving, hopefully farther and farther from your patient. Every corridor, every passage, every room looks the same and you struggle to breathe as quietly as you can despite the way your lungs ache.

You strain to listen, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the drumming of your racing heart and you don’t hear the figure casually ambling towards you until you’re being roughly shoved face first into the wall you’re leaning on, a toned figure pressed against your back, caging you in.

“Now, now. You’re making this way too easy. Tired already?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one you can’t bring yourself to answer anyway, not with the way your teeth chatter and your body trembles in fear as Toji loudly inhales your scent while he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, tongue lazily licking a strike of your salty sweat.

You sob as he harshly bites down, not enough to break skin, but enough to leave you aching and hold you still as his hands wander underneath your clothes, groping and kneading your breasts and ass. You’re too scared to move, fearing the consequences of resisting, praying that maybe this is it, that you’ll be let off when he gets his fill of feeling you up. But you can’t help the way you yelp and instinctively struggle against his hold when he tires of your frozen state and decides to ruthlessly twist your nipples and shove a thick finger into your tight hole.

“There we go. Glad to know you’re still alive and kicking. I don’t enjoy fucking dead and broken toys like that pink haired bastard does.”

Pink haired bastard? Your mind briefly flashes to a hazy picture you’re sure you had seen in one of the patient files. What was his name-

You shriek as Toji shoves another finger alongside the digit already in you, sobbing as you feel him stretching your walls, relentlessly pounding his fingers in and out of you, his fingers painfully pulling at your nipples. All you hear is his grunts in your ears and you clench your eyes in disgust when you feel a long hard object grinding against you, knowing full well what it is without even looking.

He’s going to rape and kill you. This is how it all ends. And you wait for it, the searing pain of that massive shaft impaling you. But it never comes and before you know it you’re moaning as he twists and flexes until he finds that soft spongy spot inside of you, insistently rubbing and stroking it with curled fingers as he continues dry humping you from behind.

You’re so lost in the sensations that you don’t notice how your body is betraying you as it unconsciously grinds back against Toji’s hand, your ass shaking and pressing even harder against Toji’s cock. It’s funny how easily you’ve lost any common sense, but you’re not here to be a vapid bimbo toy. He’ll save that side of you for one his fellow inhabitants who’ll appreciate it more and he abruptly pulls his now soaked digits out of you, snorting at how you whine from the loss.

You look so confused, so stupid as he rapidly finishes himself off, hooking down your bottoms low enough for him to shoot his sticky seed all over the inner fabric of your panties. And he grins when you practically moan as he pulls your undergarments back into place, cruelly tugging a tad too hard and wedging his cum and the stained lace deep between your abused folds.

You’re panting, looking like a wreck as you try to ground yourself from the dizzying confusion of being pulled right from the brink of an orgasm, the emptiness of your edging making your head foggy. But then something sharp is being pressed against your vulnerable neck and it’s enough to have fear jolt you back to your senses.

“Don’t be such a boring slut. Time to run and hide again. It’s playtime, bitch. Or maybe you need me to cut you up a bit. Pain’s always a good motivator.”

He’s barely finished speaking before you’re shoving him and his knife away from you and he whistles in appreciation as he watches you race away again, taking his time to tuck himself back in his pants. You’ll need as much of a head start anyway to even try and remotely make some sense of this labyrinth he knows every corner of. Not that any advantage will actually help you much. Toji’s never had a prey he couldn’t catch.

How many times has he found you and released you after defiling you just a bit more every time? Neither of you can keep track and only when Toji has shoved his cock in all three of your holes, filling every orifice with his cum and fuckig you until you can barely walk does your session end. It’s almost comical how he has to quite literally drag you back to the elevator you had come from and he cruelly laughs at the white sticky trail you’re leaving behind you with your loose holes unable to keep in the copious fluids.

You barely register what’s happening, too exhausted, too fucked out of your mind to even be bothered by the rough friction of the ground against your body, only mildly stunned by the fact that the elevator you had frantically tried to re-enter is now innocently open. And it’s with muted despair that you realize what fate has in store for you as Toji presses the button of the next lower level.

Gojo Satoru

The neatly labeled name is all you register before the elevator doors slide open and you’re shoved out of it, blearily making out the sight of Toji tauntingly waving at you from inside the metal enclosure.

“See you at tomorrow’s session, doc.”

Your world goes dark as the elevator doors shut.

#toji x reader #yandere toji #yandere jujutsu kaisen #toji smut #tw: yandere #tw: noncon

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reminiscingtonight · 3 years

Text

Come Back To Me (Pt. 3)

Yelena Belova x Reader (Romantic), Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Platonic), Wanda Maximoff x Reader (Minor/Romantic)

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Small smut scene (so 18+ only for that part of the story)

A/N: Please pay attention to the warning for this part. There’s a very small smut scene in the first section. It doesn’t really add or take anything from the story, so feel free to just skip it if you want to continue reading the rest of it (if you are a minor, skip the smut part or don’t read at all)

Part One // Part Two

“Nat’s not here.”

It’s been nearly a week since the last time you saw Yelena, but here you were once again, answering the door to find your best friend’s sister standing on the other side.

The morning after your impromptu make out session with Yelena saw you and Natasha slaving away in the kitchen in an effort to make a grand breakfast for the heartbroken girl. Yelena had stumbled out of your room minutes after the bacon started sizzling, grumbling about a headache. When Natasha briefly left your side to grab Yelena a glass of water, your brain nearly short circuited when you realized Yelena was still dressed in your clothes from the night before. It was only Natasha’s quick reflexes that stopped you from accidentally putting your hand on the hot stove in your distraction. As Natasha berated your clumsiness, you couldn’t focus on anything but Yelena’s half hidden smirk that told you she knew exactly what had you so distracted.

You had ended up leaving the apartment when you sensed that Natasha wanted to talk with Yelena alone, sister to sister. The last thing you had seen was the small smile Yelena sent your way before you left with the door closing behind you.

And here you were now, six days later with Yelena at the door again.

“I know.”

“I feel like you’re doing this on purpose now.”

Yelena tilts her head at you, giving you a light smirk. “The first time was a mistake. This is only the second time.” She pushes past you to get into the apartment and you sigh, knowing there was nothing you could do to get her to leave now. You close the door behind you and follow Yelena deeper into the apartment.

“And twice is just a coincidence. You have to wait until the third time to claim I’m doing it on purpose.”

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at the younger girl. “Oh, so there’s going to be a third time now?”

Yelena shoots you a grin and you have to focus hard to not be pulled into her green eyes. “Depends.”

“On?”

“If you plan on kissing me again.”

At once your playful demeanor drops. “Yelena.”

She ignores the warning in your voice. “You can’t say you don’t feel the same.”

You don’t deny anything. There was no point in lying when you both knew the truth. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

Sighing, you back up, putting some space between the two of you. “For starters, you and Kate just broke up less than a week ago.”

“I’ve been in love with you long before I started dating her.”

Your mouth drops open, not expecting those words to come flying out of her mouth. Ignoring your pounding heart, you shake your head. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.”

“Yel--”

“I love you. I do.”

You close your eyes, trying to strengthen your resolve. A timid hand landing on your arm has you quickly opening them again. Pleading green eyes stare right back at you.

“I want this. Us.”

Her hand trails down to where yours were resting against the counter. You let Yelena pull your hands into hers, not missing the way your hands seem to fit so perfectly against each other.

Her hands feel soft in yours, and you find yourself not wanting this moment to end. But even you knew that it couldn’t last forever.

You drop her hands, not missing the slight hurt that crosses Yelena’s face when you do.

“Natasha’s my best friend.”

Yelena takes the change in topic with stride. “And?”

“I can’t do this to her.”

“You’re not doing anything to her.”

“Yelena.”

Your warning is ignored again. You nearly stop breathing when she drops into your space, boxing you against the counter. It takes everything in you to not inhale her sweet perfume.

Yelena raises an eyebrow at you and you have to pretend not to be affected by her close proximity.

Her breath tickles your face when she speaks again. “So you’re saying that if I were to kiss you right now you wouldn’t kiss me back?”

You’re helpless to stop your eyes from briefly dropping down to her lips. You could still feel the ghost of her lips against yours all these days later. When you meet Yelena’s eyes again, you can tell by the amused look on her face that she knew exactly what you were looking at.

You swallow hard, trying, but failing, to calm your pounding heart. “I wouldn’t.”

Her eyes dart around your face, trying to gauge the honesty behind your words. And then she smirks.

“I call BS.”

Those words were the only warning you got.

Your hands shoot out to grip Yelena’s arms as she presses you harder against the counter, mouth sliding against yours as if they’ve always fit together. You sigh against her mouth and Yelena takes the opportunity to slip her tongue in, earning herself a low moan.

Somehow kissing Yelena a second time felt even better than the first time.

Her body fit perfectly against yours, and you’re not sure you even know where you end and she begins.

Yelena’s arms move to wrap around the back of your neck as she presses herself closer to you. One of her legs finds its way between your own and you grunt at the unexpected jolt of pleasure that shoots through you when she pushes it hard against your core.

All thoughts of stopping the kiss dies the second you feel the pulse of desire between your legs.

Your body all but goes limp in Yelena’s grip as she presses just right against your clit. You’re helpless to stop yourself from grinding down against her limb to maximize your own pleasure.

Finally breaking the kiss, you let out a groan as your hips buck harder against her knee. Yelena’s pupils seem to dilate when she hears you, and her efforts double, rubbing at your clothed core with a new vengeance.

An embarrassingly high pitched whine escapes you at the new pace Yelena sets, and you start panting hard, the pleasure clouding your brain.

Not wanting to be too greedy, you pull at Yelena’s leg that’s not between yours. She quickly gets the hint, straddling your thigh to get some relief for herself.

In the back of your mind you’re aware that the two of you were quite literally humping each other like overeager teenagers.

But when Yelena grinds down harder against you, you find that you didn’t really mind.

“I’m close,” you gasp out, fingers digging into her back. Yelena hisses at the feeling of your nails, but she doesn’t let up, driving herself harder against you.

Your climax hits you out of nowhere, the coil in your stomach snapping without any warning. Your choked gasp turns into a long moan as waves of pleasure shoot through you.

Yelena seems to be spurred on by your noises, working herself harder against you to chase her own peak. In the haze of your own pleasure, you manage to grab onto Yelena’s ass, driving her harder against your thigh. She drops her head against your shoulder as she lets the rapid movement of your hands help guide her. It doesn’t take much longer for her to reach her own peak.

Stiffening against you, Yelena’s grip turns iron tight as she moans out in pleasure. She occasionally jerks as the aftershocks run through her body, and you can’t do anything but hang on, panting hard against her.

When the two of you finally catch your breaths again, Yelena lifts her head to connect your lips. Something about the kiss feels different. It’s slower and holds none of the urgency from before.

You feel one of Yelena’s hands come up to cup your cheek and you sink into the kiss, tightening your hands against her hips. There’s the sudden urge to cry, but you push down the tears, pouring your emotions into the kiss.

Eventually the two of you break apart, with Yelena pressing one last sweet kiss against your lips before pulling her face slightly away from yours.

You take this moment to take in the woman in front of you. Cheeks rosy and lips a little swollen, Yelena still looked like a masterpiece. With her body still pressed close to yours, it’s easy to ignore the building sense of unease growing in your gut.

“She doesn’t have to know.”

Faced with green eyes open wide in a silent plea, you know that whatever happens next won’t end well. The fallout would be tragic, with you losing either Yelena or Natasha, or even worse, both of them.

But with the warm weight of Yelena still surrounding you, you can’t find it in yourself to deny Yelena what you’ve also wanted for so long.

Resting your forehead against hers, you breathe out slowly. “Okay.”

---

It’s been a couple weeks since you and Yelena started dating in secret. At first you were high on alert, never answering your phone when you were in the presence of Natasha. The redhead looked at you weirdly but never pried. You didn’t know whether or not to feel more guilty at hiding your relationship when it was obvious that Natasha was respecting your privacy.

Eventually you learn to calm down, allowing yourself a few texts here and there when Natasha couldn’t clearly see your phone.

Although the drive out was long, Yelena often dropped by whenever she knew that her sister wasn’t going to be home.

And it just so happened that today was one of those days.

Barely ten minutes after Natasha left for work, you hear a knock on the door. It swings open to reveal a very excited Yelena.

Before you have a chance to say anything she pulls you in for a quick kiss. You smile against her lips, tasting the smoothie she just had for breakfast.

“Well hello to you too.”

Slipping her hands into the back of your jeans, Yelena unabashedly gives your ass a squeeze.

Rolling your eyes at her, you walk back to the couch, Yelena’s hands still fully attached to your back pockets. “You are trouble.”

“It’s a good thing you love trouble, right?”

Hiding your smile, you pull her hands out of your back pockets. Yelena pouts but you give her a kiss in return. I do. I really do.

Feeling playful, Yelena nips at your bottom lip and you willingly invite her tongue in. Feeling the edge of the couch hit your legs, when Yelena pushes at your shoulders you let yourself fall back.

She easily slips onto your lap to straddle you, and your hands find their place at her hips.

You watch as a look of mischief crosses her face, and the next thing you know, Yelena’s pulling at the bottom of her shirt. Your mouth goes dry at the new pieces of skin revealed, and you instantly start kissing your way up her collarbone.

Yelena lets out a low moan when you latch onto her neck, sucking in a few marks of your own. Her hands pull at your hair and you let out a light hiss at the stinging sensation.

So caught up in each other, neither of you hear the door open until it’s too late.

“Forgot my tea, do you-- what the hell?!”

Yelena instantly pushes herself off of you, a look of panic crossing her face when she makes eye contact with her sister.

You scramble up, quickly handing Yelena her shirt before facing the redhead.

There’s a mixture of anger and disbelief written across Natasha’s face as she takes in your disheveled states, but you could tell that she was beyond furious.

“I can explain.”

You take a tentative step towards your fuming friend, but the fire in her eyes stops you in your tracks.

Yelena walks up from behind you, pressing a hand to your back as an act of self comfort.

Natasha’s eyes narrow at the gesture, causing you to stiffen.

For a second it looks like Natasha was going to tell the two of you off, but then she simply turns on her heels and heads for the door.

A sense of panic overtakes you and you chase after her. Grabbing at Natasha’s wrist, you try to get her to stay.

“Nat, wait--”

Letting out a grunt, you’re suddenly sent sprawling towards the ground, face throbbing in pain.

Natasha stands over you, the fury dissipating from her eyes when the pain registers in her hand. Slightly grimacing at the pain, she angrily shakes her head at you before heading out the door.

It slams shut behind her.

Yelena pulls you into a sitting position, hand tentatively brushing over your red cheek. A soft apology is murmured out when you flinch at the feeling of her hand on your bruised cheek.

“Are you okay?”

You bite back your tears, knowing there’s no one to blame but yourself. You knew that Natasha wouldn’t take your relationship lightly. That’s why you had made a plan to break it to her gently. Having Natasha walk in on the two of you making out was most definitely not breaking it gently.

“I have to go talk to her.”

A hand on your arm stops you. “What does this mean for us?”

The genuine fear in Yelena’s eyes makes your heart clench painfully. The thought of letting her go was unfathomable. A couple months ago you wouldn’t have done anything that would risk your friendship with Natasha. But now you had something you were more afraid of losing than your best friend.

“This isn’t the end.”

You could see the tension leave her at your words. Leaning forward, you press a kiss against the top of her head.

Yelena’s hand briefly tightens around your arm as she revels in the warmth of your lips. “Come back to me.”

You make your way to the door, the words left unspoken hanging heavy in the air.

---

You find Natasha on the rooftop patio.

It’s clear she hears you approaching, but Natasha doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to glare at the skyline of the city in front of her.

In all of your years of knowing Natasha you have never seen her this mad at anyone, let alone you. But you know that her anger’s justified.

You could only hope that she would forgive you.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re only sorry because you got caught.”

You flinch at the bite in Natasha’s voice. Natasha doesn’t turn around to face you and you know better than to take a seat next to her uninvited. So you attempt to have a conversation with her back still facing you.

“I need you to know that I never meant to fall for Yelena.”

“So what? You just accidentally found yourself under my sister?”

“I-- no, of course not--”

Spinning around, her eyes flash dangerously at you. “Then tell me why in the world I walked in on my sister sitting topless in the lap of my best friend.”

You swallow, the lump in your throat feeling more stifling the larger Natasha’s anger grows.

“You are my best friend, right?”

“Of course I am.”

Shaking her head, for the first time today, you see a hint of disappointment on Natasha’s face. She crosses her arms. “I don’t even know who the hell you are anymore. The (Y/N) I know would never do this to me.”

“Natasha--”

“No. Tell me what’s going on between the two of you.”

Falling silent for a moment, you briefly consider lying to Natasha. The second the thought comes to mind you nip it in the bud. You’ve lied to Natasha about your feelings for years. Although you’ve never made a move to pursue Yelena until now, it didn’t excuse the fact that you never told Natasha how you felt about her sister. And now that you and Yelena were giving it a go, it wasn’t fair to either of you to try to hide it anymore.

It was time to come clean.

“Yelena and I… we’re dating. Have been for almost two months now.”

Natasha scoffs, mouth dropping open in disbelief. “Wow. Are you kidding me? You guys have been going behind my back for two months? Typical. This sounds like another one of Yelena’s marvelous plans. Did she rope your dumb ass into her new ploy at pissing me off?”

Your heart aches at the thought of Yelena using you like that. But you knew that she would never. “You can call me whatever you want to call me. But leave Yelena out of this.”

“She’s my sister. How the hell am I supposed to leave her out of this?”

Lunging forward suddenly, Natasha thrust her finger into your chest, causing you to stumble backwards slightly. “I can’t believe you. You know how she is. She’s hotheaded, rash, and never thinks anything through. You should know better than to get involved with her.”

Bristling in anger, it takes everything in you not to snap at Natasha. “Look, you can blame me all you want. You can act like I’m the villain in this whole thing. But I draw the line at you insulting your own sister.”

Natasha gives you a look you can’t decipher and lets out a gruff: “How long?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “I already told you. We’ve been dating for--”

“No. How long will it take to get this out of your system?”

Your mouth drops open in shock. A sudden wave of fury overtakes you at the insinuation that Yelena was just a quick fix, a once and done deal. “Yelena’s not something I need to ‘get out of my system.’ I care about her.”

Natasha scoffs again and it takes everything in you not to deck her.

You slowly unclench your jaw, letting out a low breath. “I love her.”

Although this was your first time saying it out loud, you know that you’ve loved Yelena for years now. All this time spent apart has only made your love shine brighter.

Sighing, Natasha finally looks up at you, all the anger seemingly having dissipated at those three words. You nervously fidget with your fingers when you realize how tired she looks. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

Natasha turns her back to you again before taking a seat. When she pats the spot next to her, you hesitantly sit down.

“You should’ve told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“(Y/N), please stop saying you’re sorry.”

“But I am. I never should have hidden how I felt about Yelena from you. You’re my best friend and I--”

“We’re okay.”

At those words, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. All the weight from your shoulder disappears and you finally feel like you can breathe again.

We’re okay. The words repeat in your head, and you have to stop yourself from pulling Natasha into your arms.

You had gone numb at the thought of losing your best friend, but now you could finally rest easy knowing that Natasha wasn’t going anywhere.

A beat of silence passes as the two of you revel in the other’s presence. Natasha is the first to break the silence.

“Do I need to give you the shovel talk?”

You quickly shake your head, not missing the slight uptick of her lips.

Natasha lets out a light hum, and you’re not sure if she was planning on giving it to you anyways. It wasn’t like you even needed the talk. You would jump off a cliff before ever hurting Yelena on purpose.

To your relief Natasha moves on. “How’s your face?”

You grimace at the reminder of your still throbbing cheek. “Hurts.”

Natasha gives you a sly glance from the corner of her eyes before turning her attention back to the skyline. She doesn’t even bother hiding her smirk. “Good.”

---

You walk back down to the apartment, heart nervously pounding at the thought of finally being able to be with Yelena for real this time. No more secrets. No more hiding. You could finally love her like you always wanted to, out in the open for everyone to see.

When you walk in the door, you’re surprised to find Yelena nowhere in sight. You check your phone, seeing if Yelena had sent you a message about leaving, but your messages remain empty. Frowning, you lift your eyes again, sweeping the room.

And that’s when you notice the door to your room slightly ajar.

Gently pushing open the door, your heart melts when you find Yelena curled up under your covers. Her back was facing the door, but you could see that she had one of your hoodies pulled up to her face, most likely as an act of comfort.

The sound of the door opening behind her has Yelena turning over. Your eyes meet and you don’t have to walk any closer to see the unspoken question in her eyes.

Giving her a soft smile, you make your way over to her before slipping under the covers.

Silence fills the empty space between you as Yelena hesitates to reach out for you, not knowing how your talk with Natasha went.

You let your hand bridge the distance between the two of you, watching as Yelena’s eyes close in content when your hand makes contact with hers.

She lets out a shaky sigh and you brush the back of her hand with your thumb.

There are so many words you want to say, but none of them seem right in this moment. So you say nothing, you remain silent as you wait for Yelena to let you see those eyes that you’ve fallen in love with.

It doesn’t take long, but when she opens them again, there’s tears shining in her eyes.

“You came back.”

Years ago, back when the two of you were no more than just strangers, you made Yelena a promise. ‘I’ll come back to you. Always.’

And sure, the two of you were older now, the relationship that tied the two of you together having changed a bit. But the core of who you were to each other never changed.

Friends. Lovers. Soulmates.

Years ago you sealed your relationship with a promise.

A promise that you had yet to break.

And it was a promise you didn’t plan on breaking any time soon.

“Always.”

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

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#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #yelena belova imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #mcu x reader #series #Ace writes

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marvelsbanner · 3 years

Text

Part of a Team

Summary: Wanda is the newest Avengers recruit and she’s having a hard time finding her place in this new life- maybe she can find it in you?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x y/n, you

Warnings: Brief mention of death and blood, minor language (if you squint theres kind of compromising situations? nothing outright sexual)

Word Count: ~2700

A/N: Reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY much appreciated, all mistakes are my own! xx

**I don't own marvel and if I did Natasha would be alive**

Something was wrong. You were just in Strucker’s lab- just on the trail of one of the enhanced twins. The alarms were going off around you and your boots clanged on the metal floor- before you froze in your place, a red haze overtaking you and suddenly you were thrown into the daylight.

You felt tingles run through your veins and down your spine; your head throbbed. You felt vulnerable, seen. What the hell is going on-

You’re in the forest, you think. No- there are rocks. Big rocks-

Focus.

No, not rocks. Graves. Gravestones. Where the hell are you?

You drag your heavy feet over to the nearest, it takes a moment for your vision to focus.

Who’s grave? Who’s grave? Oh god. No no no- this, this can’t be-

Natasha Romanoff.

You felt like throwing up. This couldn’t be real. You dragged yourself to another stone situated nearby: Clint Barton. Beloved husband, father, and friend.

It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were just there with them. You were just there.

Your body jerks as cold hands grab your shoulders and spin your body to face them-

Steve.

You throw your arms around his neck, “STEVE! Oh god Steve! You’re okay- you’re.. cold” you feel something wet and sticky on your hand, pulling it back and seeing red. So much red.

“Steve..” you quickly stumble back, tripping in the process. It’s then you see- it’s too late. His body was grey and lifeless. He falls onto his knees and then collapses totally. You scream and scramble backwards, head hitting another gravestone in the process.

You turn to face it, to read another name of one of the team members you’ve come to call family- but it's not one of theirs. It’s yours.

It’s your name. A graveyard for the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Suddenly your body jolts and you take a sharp intake of breath- your ears are pounding. Everything hurts. But you see her- the enhanced. She’s looking at you with a look you can’t describe. It’s not fear, it’s not anger.. Pity? Empathy? You can’t look away from her, the glowing red eyes capturing you as their prey.

And then there was black.

A few weeks later and you’re back at the tower. Things have changed- the entire world has changed, really. The battle opened up new doors- literal new doors to new realms- that the world had previously thought impossible.

The team had expanded, with Steve’s friend Sam joining the team, as well as Vision, the synthezoid that helped the team to defeat Ultron.

There was also her.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the enhanced twins from Strucker’s experiments, you eventually learned. It was voluntary, but after learning about her backstory you think you would have done the same in her place.

She lost her brother- Pietro- in the battle and she took it hard. She didn’t come out of her room when she could help it. Clint was rather protective over her, maybe it was the fatherly figure coming out of him- maybe he was feeling guilt over being the one Pietro sacrificed himself to save. Either way, he was able to get her out of the room a few times and get her to eat. Vision also struck up a strange friendship with the girl- but then again, Vision was easy company, and rather empathetic for a synthezoid.

Everybody took a hit from when Wanda messed with their heads, some more than others.

You didn’t talk for a week.

Didn’t even talk with Clint’s kids when they wanted to play with you.

You didn’t hold it against her. She proved what a valuable asset she was to the team as she fought alongside the group. She did what she thought was right at the time, and that’s not something you could hold against anybody.

Ever since the Battle, Wanda has been staying in the Avengers facilities with the rest of the group, an official Avenger, but you could tell she was still uneasy around the team. She only talked when she was directly talked to and didn't come out of her room but for a few times a day for food and training, sometimes not even then.

And then there was you.

She seemed to avoid you like the plague. You weren’t even sure you two made eye contact for the entire first few weeks she was there.

At first you thought she just didn’t like you, that something about you rubbed her the wrong way, or something you had done had offended her.

But it was her eyes that gave it away- the same soft look that she gave you right after exploring the deepest and darkest parts of your mind that day at Strucker’s lab. She knew from the second it happened that she had hit a deep nerve, and she would continue to give you that damn look every time she thought you didn't notice her.

But you always did.

You couldn’t help it, the way you were drawn to her. She reminded you so much of yourself before joining the team, broken, and alone in your head. You wanted to know her. You wanted to be there for her, be someone to her, you didn’t want her to keep walking on eggshells around you.

And so, you told her.

You found her in the kitchen late one night. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a garnet tank top with a plain gray robe overtop. Her hair was a mess, roughly shoved into a ponytail and her hands were cupped around a mug. She was blowing on what looked to be dandelion tea, and as you got closer the fragrant earthy smell confirmed your suspicions.

She looked adorable.

And slightly startled to find you alone with her.

“Evening” you said as a greeting as you made your way to the counter top.

She gave a tight-lipped half smile with a timid “Hi” before going back to blowing on her tea. She made a slight movement that looked like she was going to try to slip away before you continued,

“You did really well in training the other day. Cap can’t give you enough praise” you say, taking a seat on one of the counter barstools.

She looks puzzled for a moment over your attempt at small talk before getting out a “Thank you.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the air grow thicker with each second ticking by.

“I like the pajamas” you say with a small smirk. You yourself were still dressed for the day in your leather jacket and black jeans. You could have sworn you saw flush creep up her neck before she swallowed it down with a sip of her tea.

There was another silent moment as she gave you a quizzical look, “I don’t quite understand what’s happening here.” She says with a vague hand gesture to the space between them.

You gave a slight chuckle, it was very on-brand for Wanda to be straight to the point.

“Look, Wanda,” You rotated your body on the stool to face her more comfortably,

“I see the way you look at me when you think i’m not looking. You avoid me at any given opportunity, I actually think this has been the most words we’ve exchanged in your whole time living here.”

She raised her ducked head to look you in the eyes and gave a small shake to her head, “I don’t understand.”

You don’t break eye contact, but simply offer a small smile as you reply “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. And I don’t hold anything from that day against you. All is forgiven, and I would like to move past that. I understand you believed everything you were doing was for the right reasons, and the only thing that it shows me is your dedication and loyalty to a greater cause. Even if it was the wrong one at the time.”

She looked shocked, to say the least. Her mouth slightly opening and closing as she pondered what to say in response.

“You all should be afraid of me. You see the chaos I’ve created and you think you know what I can do,” her voice caught before she continued, “But the truth is I don't even know what i'm capable of. I don’t belong here.” she says softly.

You give a sad smile before slipping off of the stool and moving closer to her.

“We all thought that, at one point or another. We’ve got a whole freak circus here, we’ve got more baggage than Delta flies in a year- that's, that's uh, an airline. My bad.” You elaborate after she gives you a puzzled look, holding back a smile at your stuttered explanation.

“Aaand I ruined the moment.” You give a small chuckle, before continuing “But my point still stands. Nobody belongs here more or less than anyone else. We’re all just here, that's the truth of the matter. We’re just a bunch of unlucky misfits trying to figure out how to work as a team. Just give it a try, and maybe you’ll find you fit in better than you imagined you would.”

At some point during your speech you had moved close enough to take her hand, and you look down at it now, blushing before going to move it away.

Before you could, she gives your hand a squeeze before moving in to place a gentle kiss against your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n.”

And with that she slips away to her room, leaving you alone with your racing heart and her lukewarm mug of tea.

The next morning you found yourself awake bright and early for another morning training session with Nat and Steve- but you had a guest this time.

“Wanda” you greeted, which she returned with a timid “Good morning.”

“I’m glad you could make it” you say, sincerely.

“I decided to take your advice.” She replies with the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

The two of you stood there for a moment, just taking each other in before Steve cleared his throat, “Alright, we should get started then. Wanda, I'll spar with you to start. Nat, you take y/n. Try not to kill each other, please.” He said with a humored smile.

You make your way towards the corner with Nat on your heels. She gives you a quizzical look with a raised brow, glancing between you and Wanda. You roll your eyes and shake your head, only responding with a pointed “Later,” before your legs sweep under hers and an arm wraps around her torso, flipping you both to the ground and landing with you on top of her.

“Using my own move against me, that’s a low blow y/n.” You both laugh, and you barely respond with a “I learned from the best” before she wraps a leg around your waist and grabs your wrists with one hand, flipping you over and pinning you to the ground. She winks and replies “Damn right you did.”

It went like that for another half an hour, the two of you going back and forth battling for the upper hand. Natasha was the one who had trained you since the beginning, and you could almost say you were near her equal now. Well, you could at least give her a run for her money in a spar.

The two of you were panting and glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from the exercise when she gave you a mischievous wink and called out to the other two, “Hey grandpa, I think I’m done getting my ass kicked by y/n for the day. I want someone easy, come spar with me”

If looks could kill, the look you were giving her would have the assassin dead on the floor.

Steve only looked amused, grabbing a towel to wipe his own sweat as he responded “Bring it on, Romanoff. Try not to break anything, though. I’ve been told they want my bones for the Smithsonian” Nat rolled her eyes and gave a pointedly fake laugh before they made their way to the other side of the gym, leaving you and Wanda alone.

“Hi” you greeted. She responded with a small smile and a “Hi” in return.

She looked as though she were still catching her breath, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeably fast and her face was still adorned with a glisten of sweat and pretty pink flush.

The same flush you saw from her last night, standing in the kitchen with the dim light around her.

Oh God you were in deep now.

“Nat and I were just wrestling around, hand to hand combat kind of stuff, but I see you and Steve were boxing so it's up to you what you’d like to do.” you say quickly.

“Well.. I do have this,” She waves her hand to show her flicker of red powers “for missions, so I don’t think I really need that kind of training.” She says with a smirk, “But I admit, you seem like a good teacher. Maybe.. some basics?”

She was pushing it. Pushing at this, the same way you were pushing last night. Alright, maybe you could run with this.

You give her a teasing smile, “Alright then. We’ll start slowly. May I?” You ask, reaching out for her, but not quite touching.

“By all means” she says, and you can feel the familiar flush creeping up your neck again. You release a puff of breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts before stepping closer to Wanda, and in one fluid motion you had one leg behind hers, your left arm resting against her upper chest and your other at the small of her back, pushing her flush against yourself.

You could hear the small gasp she let out, smirking to yourself.

“This is a simple take down, easy to get out of, but good for beginning. Now i'm just gonna pull you down as slowly as I can-”

You bring her left leg out from under her and carefully let the two of you sink to the floor, leaving you straddled on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

You meet her eyes, breath hitching as you feel her pulse quicken beneath your touch.

You clear your throat and begin again, “Like I said before, it’s easy to get out of, but you want to keep the element of surprise. Use your opponent's body weight against them, if you can twist your wrist to slip it out of their grip and use your hips to to flip-”

Before you could even finish she had you pinned beneath her, wind knocked out of you from the impact.

“Like that?” she said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, thick accent teasing- flirting?

You were suddenly very aware of your close proximity and compromising position- flush against each other with her hips straddling your waist; close enough to feel her rapid heartbeat.

“Yeah- that was- that was good” you sputtered out, barely able to hear yourself over the rapid beating of your own heart. Or maybe it was hers- you aren't sure you could tell the difference between up and down right now.

She gave a proud smirk and opened her mouth to say something before a certain synthezoid floated through the gym walls, clueless to the moment he was interrupting.

“Mr. Stark requests a team meeting and would like you to meet him in the conference room.” He said simply before turning and leaving through the wall again.

Wanda gave you a look that seemed to say we’ll finish this later and moved off of you. You missed the heat of her body immediately.

She offered you a hand up and you gladly took it, the two of you walking side by side in silence to the meeting, shoulders bumping and small smiles shared between you two as you think to yourself that maybe you could get used to this.

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