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cleo-fox · 8 months

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Close Quarters

Part 1 of 2

Summary: “You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to go undercover at a luxury resort.

The only problem? Your fake husband is Loki Laufeyson—the infuriatingly handsome Norse god turned Avenger who delights in making you flustered. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki.

A/N: there will be a part 2. Also have a handful of related one shot ideas, so if people like this, I may post those. This is also posted on AO3.

Your self-sufficiency has always been a point of pride for you, both personally and professionally. The highlight of your career was overhearing Nick Fury say that he didn’t need to send in a team of people for a mission so long as he had you on the payroll. You are calm, competent, and ruthlessly efficient; you are used to relying only on yourself.

So it comes as something of a surprise when Fury informs you that Loki Laufeyson will not only be accompanying you on this undercover mission, but will also be taking the lead.

It takes a lot to render you speechless these days, but this does it. You gape at Fury for a moment before you’re able to speak.

“You never send me in with anyone,” you say.

“This mission requires a unique skillset.”

You scoff. “He can’t do anything that I can’t.”

Fury raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. “Really? How’s your conversational Sokovian?”

There’s, of course, no argument to be made with this. Your lips press into a thin, hard line. “I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to play the part of Nina Pine.

Nina Pine is bubbly and vivacious, the sort of person you’d see in the society pages. She wears designer clothes and owns jewelry that is so ostentatious and expensive that it looks like it must be fake. She is not particularly bright or talented; she is the product of good luck and generational wealth.

Three weeks ago, Nina married Jonathan Pine, who she met six months ago at the home of a mutual friend. Jonathan does something in finance that sounds like it’s just a tarted up version of gambling, but with more complicated rules and less oversight. It is Jonathan’s higher tolerance for risk (and healthy trust fund assets) that has him considering an investment in KorolCo, a company owned by Ivan Litvinchuk. Litvinchuk uses KorolCo as a front to launder money from illegal arms deals.

Loki would be going undercover as Jonathan. Your new husband.

You are not particularly happy about this little detail (a detail that Fury mysteriously failed to mention when you met with him), in no small part because Loki has already started leveraging it to annoy the shit out of you.

“How are you already this annoying when we’re still in prep?” you say after a particularly exasperating meeting.

“I’m simply overcome by my love for you,” says Loki with a cloying faux sincerity that makes you yearn for the sweet release of death.

Fury, you note, is suspiciously unavailable during all of this. After ignoring three of your (admittedly lengthy) emails on the subject, he sends you a frustratingly short reply:

Do your job, Agent.

Maybe you’ll take up meditation.

If there’s a bright side to what appears to be a massive clusterfuck in the making, it’s that you’ll at least get a free vacation of sorts

The mission will be taking place at The Indigo, an absurdly expensive and exclusive hotel on a private beach not far from La Jolla Cove. The Indigo is the sort of place that you’d only read about—the kind of hyper exclusive resort that is only ever mentioned in damning Pro Publica reports about the questionable actions of high ranking public officials. Rooms start at fifty thousand a night and you are staying in one of the suites, which likely costs more. Your room information was included in your briefing materials and it all sounds too good to be true: a soaking tub and waterfall shower. Private terrace with an infinity pool. Private bar. In-suite chef and spa services by appointment. Ocean view.

One Norse god who delights in irritating you (non-negotiable).

You suppose you’ll try and make the best of it.

The first problem is your sleeping arrangements: there’s only one bed. Granted, it’s a big bed, but still—it suggests a level of intimacy that you had not thought about and are not at all prepared for.

“Well, Agent, this isn’t how I envisioned taking you to my bed, but I suppose it’ll have to do,” says Loki on your first evening there.

You chuck a pillow at him, which he easily dodges.

“Keep it up and you can magic yourself a pillow and sleeping bag and sleep in the hall,” you say.

“Even if that were an appropriate accommodation for someone of my rank and title, I rather think it would do some damage to our cover.”

He has a point and you don’t like it. You decide to ignore him and start getting ready for bed.

The pajamas that had been packed for you are a little fancier than what you’re used to—satin and lace instead of cotton tees and shorts. Normally, you’d relish the opportunity to feel a little fancy—it’s an unexpected indulgence, a splurge on the company dime.

But with Loki now thrown into the equation, you are suddenly hyper aware of the fact that the fabric will likely cling to your curves, that the hem of the skirt is just a little too high. You choose the most demure one of the lot—a pale rose colored thing hemmed with lace—and head to the bathroom to change.

Even with the matching robe, you still feel a little awkward and oddly nervous. You avoid looking at Loki—if his gaze is lingering on your legs or your hips, you don’t want to know about it right before you hop into bed with him—and go about your normal routine. You manage to have a relatively normal conversation about your plan for tomorrow and you read a couple chapters of your book before you start to drift off.

It’s a king sized bed with plenty of room, but somehow you wake up perched near the edge of the bed with Loki pressed up against your back.

He’s got one arm wrapped around your waist so that you’re pinned against him and the deep, even breaths brushing against the back of your neck tell you he’s still asleep. You’re pretty sure this must have been unintentional on his part: Loki doesn’t seem like the sort to willingly allow himself to be seen seeking out human contact. It’s too vulnerable, too soft for the sharp and sarcastic veneer he presents to the world.

He shifts slightly in his sleep, his grip on you tightening. Something hard pokes against the curve of your ass.

You can’t help the responding ache between your legs. You should feel embarrassed—and you do, just a little—but there’s a competing feeling of warm curiosity that makes you press your thighs together. It’s been a while and you miss being held like this. The silk of your nightgown is cool and slippery against your skin, and you feel oddly restless and alert despite the early hour.

You should put a stop to this—that is the professional and sensible thing to do. So you carefully lift his arm from your waist and gently extricate yourself from his embrace. You pad to the bathroom, leaving the light off to spare your eyes.

In the bathroom, you run the tap as cold as it will go. You cup your hands and drink before splashing some water on your face in an effort to quell the restless heat building between your thighs.

It doesn’t really work. You’re not entirely surprised—if you were by yourself, you would simply take care of it, but that’s obviously not an option now. Out of curiosity, you slip your fingers between your thighs to assess the state of things and you immediately regret it: you’re soaked and just the feeling of your index finger glancing against your clit is enough to undo the admittedly minimal effect of the cold water.

You splash your face again and shut off the tap, taking a few deep breaths and smoothing your hands against your hair.

You exit the bathroom and slide back into bed. Loki reaches for you in his sleep and you are only half surprised when you let him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. The throbbing ache between your thighs intensifies and before you can think about it, your back is arching and your breath is hitching.

He pulls you closer and suddenly his breath is warm on your ear. “You know, if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, only a little husky with sleep.

“This is a bad idea,” you say, even as your back arches again and you press yourself against him.

Lips press against where your neck and shoulder meet. “But you want it.” His fingers toy with the hem of your nightgown. “Yes?” he asks, his voice husky against your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Agent.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Agent.”

Your eyes flutter open. Loki is standing at the foot of the bed, hair wet, and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s eight o’clock,” he says. “You need to shower and dress if we’re to make it to breakfast on time.”

It takes you a moment to process this information. Partly because he just woke you up from a sex dream about him and partly because wearing only a towel should be fucking illegal when you look like that. You try to keep your eyes trained on his and not let them drift to his flat stomach where you can see a faint smattering of chest hair that gathers in a line that trails directly to his cock. And definitely not to any of the muscles that are on tantalizing display and dotted by drops of water that are begging to be licked away. Nope. Not looking at any of that. Just at his devastatingly handsome face.

Fuck.

“Agent?”

You shake your head. “Sorry. Bit groggy this morning. Finish up what you were doing and I’ll go jump in the shower.”

He gives you a bit of an odd look, but mercifully walks away without further comment.

This gives you an opportunity to stare at his broad back as he walks away. Goddammit, even his ass looks good in that towel.

Fuck.

You have a feeling this is going to be a long week.

It’s only day one and it’s becoming clear to you that you are not really prepared for some of the practicalities of being Loki’s wife.

Specifically: being the primary focus of his flirtations and little gestures of affection. His hand on the small of your back, his fingers lacing with yours, the brush of his lips against the back of your hand or the shell of your ear—it’s all a little overwhelming in a way you don’t expect. It was one thing when he was razzing you in your prep meetings—he was quite clearly doing it to be irritating. But at The Indigo, he has to appear sincere for your cover and that particular detail makes it a different beast entirely.

The fact that both his regular appearance and the blond-haired, blue-eyed glamor he’s adopted for the mission are both devastatingly handsome certainly doesn’t help. Nor does the additional baggage of your sex dream this morning.

Unfortunately for you, Loki quickly ascertains that he now has a great and novel way to fluster you. Equally unfortunate is the fact that he seems to find this as hilarious as he did back in prep meetings, which prompts him to be only more outlandish.

“Are you trying to sabotage this?” It’s later that afternoon and you’ve gone down to the pool with the plan of schmoozing with Litvinchuk and his associates. Loki has clearly decided that this needs to be more difficult than it is and has fully committed to the bit, as they say.

(You’ve also gotten very good at whispering threats under your breath and making it look like you’re flirting; the timing of this is not a coincidence).

“I don’t know why you’re so distraught about sunscreen,” says Loki, rubbing a generous amount between his palms.

“It’s not the sunscreen, it’s that you’re going to find some way to be inappropriate about it.”

“I’d never.”

“You are so full of shit.”

“You wound me.” He places his hands on your shoulders and begins rubbing in the sunscreen, going much slower than you think is strictly necessary. “Perhaps this trip is merely bringing out our natural chemistry.”

“You wish.”

“Is it the hair that does it for you, Mrs. Pine? Do you have a particular fondness for blonds?”

“Do you have a fondness for being murdered in broad daylight? Because that’s the fate you’re headed towards, buster.”

He tuts at you as his hands slide to the small of your back. “Temper, temper. You really need to work on that.”

“Have you considered working on not annoying the ever-loving shit out of me?”

His breath is suddenly warm against your ear. “Now where’s the fun in that? And before you answer, be advised that Tarasevich is looking right at us.”

Fuck. Tarasevich is the most suspicious and paranoid of the lot—years in the Sokovian mafia paired with recreational drug use will do that to a guy. You turn so that you’re facing Loki. He looks at you fondly, looking for all the world like a loved up newlywed just smitten with his new wife.

“One of these days, I’m going to drop kick you into the motherfucking sun,” you say in the sweetest voice that you can muster.

“Now, now, Mrs. Pine, let’s keep the foreplay in the bedroom.” He rests his forehead against yours, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “There’s such a thing as public indecency laws, you know.”

You sigh heavily. “Why are you like this?”

“Oh, because it’s so much fun.”

“Is he still looking?”

“Yes and I’m going to kiss you to put him off, so do try to contain yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

You catch a flicker of a smile before he leans in and brushes his lips against yours. You intend for this to be brief, but his mouth is so warm and inviting and before you know it, he’s gently coaxing your lips open and leading your tongue in a slow and seductive caress that has your mind drifting straight to the gutter.

His hand slides to your thigh and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it.

“Ah, Pine. Mixing business and pleasure, I see.”

You pull back from Loki to find Ivan Litvinchuk standing in front of you, wearing the smug, congratulatory smirk that you often see men like him trading with one another when they think they’re getting somewhere with a woman.

“Normally I try not to, but I’ve found it rather impossible these last three weeks, haven’t I, darling?” Loki takes the opportunity to loop his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, nuzzling your neck.

You give a good natured laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone would fault me when I have such a tempting little wife.”

This, paired with the squeeze of his hand on your thigh, sends an unexpected rush of heat to your cunt. Fortunately, the effects of this are quickly tempered when you notice that Litvinchuk is eyeing you rather appreciatively. The wardrobe team has really outdone themselves with your clothes, but the swimsuits they’ve sent are definitely more revealing than you are used to—today’s choice is a bikini with a split sweetheart neckline that dips a lot lower than you’d like and a fucking underwire in the top. Underwire! The bottom is no better—it’s both low rise and high cut, the perfect way to ensure that half of your ass is exposed at any given time. Even in the matching translucent cover up—which of course you’ve left on the chair that Litvinchuk is standing in front of—you feel a little more bare than you’d like, a fact that Litvinchuk seems to be appreciating, if the path of his gaze is any indication.

“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Pine,” he says, his eyes flicking briefly to your cleavage.

You expertly tamp down your disgust and smile at Litvinchuk before turning around to bat your eyes at Loki.

“You are, aren’t you?” you say, twining your arms around his neck and planting a brief, chaste kiss on his lips.

He gives you a dazzling smile that’s so sincere it makes your stomach flip. “Very much so.”

Another squeeze of your thigh, more heat to your cunt. Fuck.

“Well, Pine, when you are ready to discuss more business—” Here he switches to Sokovian.

This is the part you dislike the most about this particular mission: whenever anything of substance comes up, Litvinchuk and his cronies immediately switch to Sokovian, leaving you in the dark.

To add insult to injury, Litvinchuk still seems infatuated by your cleavage.

Litvinchuk says goodbye a few minutes later and you manage to bite your tongue until he’s out of earshot.

“I really don’t love the fact that he spent half of that conversation sneaking looks at my boobs,” you say quietly.

“Well, to be fair, they do look spectacular,” says Loki. “I’ll have to send a thank you note to the wardrobe team for that.”

Heat stirs hopefully and unhelpfully in your hips at that comment.

“This is what I meant by being inappropriate, you know. Did he have anything interesting to say?”

“He’s invited me to a game of cards this afternoon.”

“Do you need me for that? I could go try and talk to the wives, see what I can find out.”

“Originally, I’d thought no, but since dear Ivan seems so enamored of your assets, it might not be a bad idea to have you come along.”

You sigh. “How am I now at the point in my life where letting an illegal arms dealer stare at my tits is a fucking mission objective?”

Loki laughs quietly. “We’ll keep that out of the final report.”

The card game ends up being a lot worse than you thought it would be. And not because of Litvinchuk’s wandering eyes.

They’ve set up the game on the pool deck tables and chairs. As best as you can tell, it’s a Sokovian twist on a combination of rummy and poker. You’re not the only woman at the table: a few of the other men have their girlfriends or mistresses draped over them like strange human scarves, though their roles seem to be largely decorative.

Loki makes a big show of pulling you into his lap, saying how he just can’t bear to be apart from his new wife for terribly long.

“Ah, young love,” says Mikhnevich. “I remember when my Irina and I were like this.”

“Now she begs for him to leave the house!” says Litvinchuk. There’s a hearty round of laughter—it’s not a particularly funny joke, but you suppose that’s one of the benefits of moving up in the world of crime: people will laugh at your jokes because they’re afraid you’ll kidnap their families or something. It’s all very dysfunctional.

Loki makes an effort to teach you the game, but Nina is not the sort who pays very close attention to that kind of thing, so you find yourself giggling and letting him steal kisses or whisper in your ear as he explains some strategy or another.

There are several problems with this arrangement. The first is that you are positioned on his lap in such a way that you can feel his cock nudging your ass or your thigh, depending on how he’s sitting. And it’s close enough proximity for you to ascertain that he is long, thick, and semi-erect.

The second problem is his thigh; specifically, how it presses against your cunt, how every time Loki leans forward to draw a card, he inadvertently rocks you against the firm muscle. Each time, it feels better than the last; each time, you clench and ache and talk yourself out of riding his thigh until you have a screaming orgasm right on the pool deck. Each time, the idea becomes more and more tempting.

The third problem is his hands. Specifically, where and how they are wandering. He plays it off like it’s unintentional, like he’s just absently fidgeting with the part of your suit that lays against your hip or idly drawing lazy circles on your thigh. You can’t help but think that it must be calculated. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours intentionally trying to drive you crazy–there’s no way that he would pass up an opportunity to play his little games without you scolding him or rolling your eyes.

The fourth problem is that the first three problems are turning you on a lot.

Your clit seems to swell with every pass of his fingertips on your bare skin, no matter how casual. It drags against the slick material of your swimsuit every time you shift on Loki’s muscular thigh. You can feel yourself growing slicker and slicker with every moment. Eventually, it becomes too much and you try to shift in his lap, crossing your legs to give yourself a little relief.

This does exactly nothing useful. Instead, your movement causes his cock to twitch against you, which only escalates your growing arousal. He hooks the elastic of your suit at your hip onto his thumb and pulls, letting it snap back against your skin. His expression is playful when you look up at him, but there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

You are throbbing, your cunt practically weeping with slickness. And you’re pretty sure he knows.

And you’re pretty sure you don’t mind.

You lick your lips.

He hooks his thumb back into your suit at the hip, and this time he leaves it there, his fingers splayed along the curve of your hip. It’s casually possessive and ridiculously hot and the polar opposite of helpful.

He definitely knows.

Your heart is pounding. Can you go into cardiac arrest from being too turned on? You wish you could use Google. At a minimum, some sort of visual equivalent of a cold shower would be helpful. Pictures of Henry Kissinger or something. Budget reports. Taxes. Anything to get your mind off your aching cunt and the mess that you’re making in your swimsuit.

“I think you could do with a bit of a lie down, Mrs. Pine.” Loki's voice is low in your ear. “You seem…warm.”

You would have thought that Loki knowing about your current state of arousal would be cause for humiliation, if not irritation. Instead, it only seems to add fuel to the fire, especially with the way he’s talking to you. You’re not sure how he’s doing this, but it feels like his fucking voice is vibrating in the cradle of your hips, sending a fresh wave of slick arousal to your dripping cunt.

“Yeah,” you say. “Very warm.”

It’s perhaps a testament to your current state of mind that you can only manage this sentence and not some smart remark.

“Would you like my help with that, darling?” he asks. The phrasing is innocent, but the question is loaded. And sincere. You take in a shaky breath. You know all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but you also can’t bring yourself to say no. He may be wildly irritating, but you suspect he’s likely a good fuck…and you really need to be fucked.

You nod. “Yeah…I’d like that.”

“We’ll go up to the room after this game ends,” he says. “And then I’ll take very good care of you.”

It takes everything in you not to whine. Fuck. You didn’t think it was possible to be this wet, this turned on.

Loki shifts slightly, pulling you close against him, his cock now fully erect and pressing hard and thick against your ass.

“Do you feel me?” he asks, his lips grazing your ear. “Do you feel what you’ve done?”

You nod and wiggle your hips slightly, partly to situate yourself and partly because you want a little bit of payback. His grip on your hip tightens.

“I’d advise you not to play games, little wife,” he rasps in your ear.

More heat builds in your hips. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on. Maybe never. You throw a look at Loki over your shoulder. “It’s not a game,” you say. “I’m just very warm.”

His eyes are dark. “Burning up, I suspect.”

“You have no idea.” You lean back against him, turning so you can nuzzle your face against his neck. God, he smelled good. “Please,” You say it so quietly that only he can hear, “I’m aching.”

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and you feel his cock throb. He clears his throat. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take my leave a little early—Mrs. Pine is feeling quite unwell.”

Fuck yes.

If Litvinchuk and his men suspect there’s anything untoward about your departure, they don’t say so—and you imagine you must look a little unsteady anyway. Loki slides an arm around your waist as you leave.

“Now Mrs. Pine,” he says once you’re out of earshot, “tell me exactly what ails you.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“I only want to ensure that we are on the same page,” he says with a smirk.

“Like hell you do. I already told you, you just want to hear—” You cut yourself off, realizing that you’re playing right into his hands.

He smiles like a cat with a bowl full of cream. “What do I want to hear, darling?”

You press your lips together. This is infuriating.

“I’m waiting…”

You blow out a shaky breath. Fuck it. “You just want to hear me say that I’m fucking soaked because you’ve been rubbing me against your thighs and touching me for the last two hours and if I don’t come soon, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

He smirks as you approach the hotel lobby. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear you say all that.”

“You absolutely were.”

The air conditioned air in the hotel lobby feels extra icy against your sunwarmed skin and your sandals seem to clack particularly loudly against the marble floors.

“You have a smart mouth, do you know that?”

“You like it,” you say as you approach the bank of elevators. “That’s the reason why you pull half of this shit with me.”

“Perhaps.” He gives you a smile that feels a little dangerous and sends even more heat to your aching cunt. “But do you know what my favorite part of your smart mouth is, Mrs. Pine?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

The elevator door opens. It’s empty and your cunt clenches at the possibilities this presents.

“My favorite part about your smart mouth,” says Loki in a low voice as you step into the elevator, “is that it will sound that much sweeter when I make you beg for me.”

The elevator door slides closed and you barely have a chance to react before he’s backing you up against the wall and pressing his thigh between your legs.

“You’re a disobedient, wicked tease, Mrs. Pine,” he growls, sending a thrill through you. “I think you could benefit from a firm hand.”

“You like it,” you breathe, rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to capture some of the same friction that was driving you wild earlier.

“Rutting yourself against my thigh in public like a common slut,” he purrs. “You must be desperate.” He slides a hand between your legs, slipping his fingers under your bathing suit. His expression changes the moment his fingers dip past the fabric—almost like he expected you to be wet, but not this wet.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs as you keen. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, haven’t you?”

“I need to come so bad,” you gasp.

“I know you do.” He reaches over and slams the emergency stop button and the elevator shudders to a halt. “And you’re going to. Right now.”

“I can wait until we get to the ro—”

He spins you around and pulls you to him so your back is pressed against his chest.

“No, you can’t.” He curls his big frame over yours, sliding his hand back into your bathing suit and stroking the full length of your sex and making you cry out again. “You need it too badly.” He starts rubbing your clit with his middle and index fingers. “And I don’t think it’s going to take all that long, darling,” he growls, sucking your earlobe into his mouth, “because you’re already so fucking wet.”

There’s a small, distant part of you that resents the fact that he’s right about anything, let alone anything pertaining to your orgasms.

The larger part of you is focused on the fact that he’s right: you’re going to come and you’re going to come hard.

Your legs are shaking and you brace your arms against the elevator wall to hold yourself up. You moan loudly and arch your back as the feeling starts building in your hips.

“You need this so badly, don’t you?” He nips hard at your earlobe. “You’re desperate for it. I felt you tense up every time your sopping cunt rubbed against my thigh, every time I touched you just right.”

You whimper, pressure rising in your hips as you rock with his hands.

“You’re so close,” Loki purrs in your ear. His hips are thrusting mindlessly against your ass, like he can’t wait to be inside you.

“Fuck, I need to come,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m going to make you come, darling, but I think what you really need is to be fucked.”

You moan as your orgasm starts to crest.

“You need to be fucked properly and hard,” he murmurs. “You need me to take care of your sopping wet, needy little cunt. You need to be filled to the brim with my cock and my come like the good girl that you are. You need to come over and over on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.”

This is what pushes you over the edge. The muscles of your cunt clench and then pleasure is blooming in your belly as the tension of the last two hours comes to a peak and you come hard. You cry out, your hips rocking against Loki’s hand, chasing the shimmery aftershocks.

“There she is, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. He holds you as you shudder and shake, his fingers still moving, still coaxing out those final waves of pleasure. But just when you think he’s about to pull his hand away, he starts massaging your clit again, one long finger slipping inside you.

“You don’t think you’re going to be satisfied with just one, do you?” he growls in your ear. “Not a needy girl like you, not when you’ve been dripping for hours. You need more, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck—” You can feel that pressure growing again and you know it’s going to be different this time.

“You’re going to come for me again, pretty girl,” he purrs. “And this time, I want to hear you scream.”

Everything is coiling up so tight and tense and suddenly two of his fingers are inside of you and they’re curling just right and the edges of your vision go white as everything inside you fizzes and releases and a sharp cry falls from your lips as you come.

“Good girl,” his voice rumbles low over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

His hand finally stills once the final aftershocks roll through you. Your legs are shaking, but his grip on you is still firm. Boneless, you turn to him and he presses his slick fingers past your lips. You suck and lick his fingers clean and then he’s kissing you, sucking your own essence from your lips and tongue.

“Fuck,” you breathe as the elevator shudders to life. “Fuck, that was so good.”

Loki laughs quietly and scoops you up into his arms as the elevator arrives at your floor.

“Oh, we’re nowhere near done, darling.”

Continued in Part 2

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molotovmetro · 1 year

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The 141 + König with a s/o who goes non-verbal

Tiny disclaimer: im autistic and have moments of being non verbal during breakdowns etc, so this is based mostly off of my own experience, but if anyone feels like ive said inaccurate or offensive things, please let me know as that would never be my intention. The way I've written this suggests this is a negative feeling (, since thats how i experience it) but I understand that might not be the same for everyone. For some people this might just be a daily or

Requested by @apocalypticseagull

Warnings: mentions of stress and the slightest hint at possible injury, besides that nothing I can think of

M!reader

Ghost

Ghost relates to you. While he wouldn't claim his experience is the same, he gets moments of overstimulation where he wants everyone to leave him alone, and will just stop reacting to people.

When he feels like this, he prefers to sit in his room, either completely in the dark or with only a small lamp on, and have as little noise around him as possible.

If you're in a stress situation, not knowing what else to do to help you, that's what he'll resort to.

He'll take you into either his room or yours, whichever you would prefer, and holds you while letting you get away from all the triggers for a bit. Unless you're dealing with life or death situations, whatever work you have left for the day can wait. Your wellbeing always comes first.

Soap

Soap is a lot more observant than people give him credit for. He's the king of avoiding stressful situations for you whenever he can.

But alas, he can't avoid it every time. Whether you start saying less and less as the minutes go on, or just stop talking suddenly, he notices immediately.

Not that he'd be quick to admit it, but he's got a written list of everything you like, even if it's just something you mentioned in passing. He absutely will use this list to do whatever he can to make you smile and relieve some of your stress.

He'll make sure to find a way to still communicate that both of you are comfortable with. He'll happily lend you his journal to write in, or he'll ask Roach for some lessons in sign language. He'd break his back bending over backwards to make you comfortable if he had to.

Gaz

No matter how often it happens, Gaz still feels a jolt of panic whenever you don't respond over coms when you're on a mission. He almost sags in relief as soon as he hears you hum, or even just hears the crackly static of you pushing your radio's button.

He knows you're a talented soldier and you're more than capable of handling yourself, he still prefers to be near you at all times. What if something happens and you can't tell him? You could be in trouble without him even knowing. He'll, just knowing you're stressed is making him want to reach for you.

He likes his job, likes helping people and ridding the world of danger, but his favourite part of every mission is when you're sitting in the exfil helo after a good mission, and you give him that wide smile he's been waiting hours, if not days to see.

Price

You and Price have been working together for so long, you both know the drill. When he starts to notice you going quiet, he makes sure he only asks yes or no questions. On your side; one click of your radio button for no, two for yes. Throw in some improvised morse code when necessary, and you've got a solid communications system.

Having this system is also a huge bonus during stealth missions, when he can't talk freely without risking being spotted.

He loves hearing your voice, but he doesn't treat you any differently when you can't talk. He'll support you in whatever way you need, without making it feel like he's babying you.

The two of you are a well oiled machine. No matter how stressful the situation, usually you can tell what the other one is thinking just by looking at them. You know you both have each other's back, verbal communication or not.

König

König doesn't mean to make a big deal out of it, and he won't if you don't, but he does worry.

After a situation like that happens once, he commits everything that helps you to his memory, and uses the knowledge to help you the next time it happens.

Even down to the tiniest detail, he'll remember. If you don't like a certain texture or can only stand a certain flavour of drink during moments like this, he's making sure you have everything you need and are as comfortable as possible. Whatever is stressing you will be dealt with by him while you're resting and calming down.

If you want to be alone, he understands and respects that, and gives you the space you need. But if you don't, there's nowhere he'd rather be than by your side.

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okuhle23 · 1 year

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ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS- 019

Hi guys, I'm back with more astrology observations!!

If you'd like a paid reading, 👉click here 👈

If you would like to check out my other astrology observations, check me out at @okuhle23 .

☆People with Venus in Capricorn/ Venus conjunct Saturn age so beautifully. This placement may mean that you start putting more effort in how you look at a older age. It may also mean that you may experience a later glowup. This is because Saturn represents aging and delays while Venus rules beauty.

☆Leo rules hot and humid air, so countries ruled by Leo may experience very hot summers. Examples include: Afghanistan, India, Zanzibar, Chad, Indonesia, Malaysia, Maldives, and Pakistan.

☆People with Moon/Virgo in the 6th may really love animals, and may be really attached to their own pets if they have any.

☆People with Neptune in the 1st may constantly experience people making assumptions about them based on how they look or dress. Neptune rules assumptions and the 1st house shows your appearance. This placement can also indicate being idealized by people who don't even know you well, these people are like a fantasy to others.

☆Neptune conjunct Mars/Pluto can make you appear rather sexual and promiscuous, you may also have many secret admirers. This is because Neptune represents illusions and Pluto/ Mars represents sex and things related to sex

☆Venus in the 3rd may date people in their neighbourhood, or their partners live very close to them. This is because Venus represents love/romantic relationships, while the 3rd house represents your local community.

☆Pluto or Scorpio in the 5th/7th house can mean that you prefer to keep your love life private. You probably don't like to show off your partner. You may also get extremely jealous if other people flirt with your partner. This is because Pluto/Scorpio represents secrets and jealousy while the 5th and 7th house shows ones relationships (5th house=casual relationships and 7th house=long-term relationships)

☆People with Neptune in the 1st/ 10th are be goofy as hell, some people may even view you as weird😂. This is because Neptune rules abnormal behavior, while the 1st and 10th house show how others see you.

☆People with Mars in the 6th/10th house may have dangerous jobs, or you may risk getting hurt on the job quite often(either burning yourself, or constantlyclimbing up high things). If you have an office job you may find that your colleagues see you as competition, and therefore treat you with hostility. This is because Mars rules danger, abrasions and hostility while the 6th and 10th houses represent your job.

☆Where Uranus is placed in you chart can show your aura, this is because Uranus rules auras:

▪︎ Uranus in the 1st: your aura colour is red❣️. You come off as strong, fierce and confident. Perhaps you've been told that you're intimidating at times, and you're also really competitive.

▪︎ Uranus in 2nd: your aura colour is green💚. You come off as beautiful, wealthy and at times, stubborn😭. You have a calming aura to you, you can reconnect with your true self by going into nature.

▪︎ Uranus in the 3rd: your aura colour is yellow💛. You are energetic, like to travel and explore different places and you are intellectual. Your aura is sometimes quite scattered, and may change often because of your changeable energy.

▪︎ Uranus in the 4th: your aura colour is white🤍. You are caring, kinda introverted and loyal. You aura can change often based on your emotions.

▪︎ Uranus in the 5th: your aura colour is gold🪙. You are loyal, proud and you have royal energy. People may view you as luxury loving, you like being spoiled.

▪︎ Uranus in the 6th: your aura colour is emerald green🌲. You are grounded, kind but sometimes a bit too self-critical (you pretty asf babe). People may view your energy as really stable and 'neat'. It may be hard to read your energy because you're good at putting up a front.

▪︎ Uranus in the 7th: your aura colour is pink 💗. You are loving, romantic and beautiful. You may be a very cooperative, non-confrontational person and may be viewed as submissive by others.

▪︎ Uranus in the 8th: your aura colour is black 🖤. You are mysterious, intimidating and you are very loyal. You radiate sensual, seductive energy.

▪︎ Uranus in the 9th: your aura colour is orange🧡. You are outgoing, energetic and social. You may be viewed as a very busy person, always travelling or doing something.

▪︎ Uranus in the 10th: your aura colour is brown🤎. You are hardworking, confident(girlboss💸 ), and you really enjoy money. People may view you as bring really serious and you don't play about your money.

▪︎ Uranus in the 11th: your aura colour is blue💙. You are innovative, unique and intelligent. Your energy doesn't just fit into one category, one second you could be energetic and the other, you're lazy asf.

▪︎ Uranus in the 12th: your aura colour is purple💜. You are artistic, empathic and ethereal. You may be overly compassionate, so be careful of people who want to manipulate your energy.

☆Venus-Pluto hard aspects (square, opposition) can mean that other women hate on you out of jealousy or envy. This is because Pluto can show malice/ jealousy while Venus represents females.

☆Venus in the 3rd can indicate that you'll meet your future lover in your neighborhood. Or your partners may live close to you. This is because Venus rules love and romantic relationships while the 3rd house can represent the neighborhood you grew up in.

☆Ruler of the 1st house in the 2nd house can mean that you just look rich, or people assume that you're wealthy because of how you look or the clothes and accessories you wear. This is because the 1st house rules your appearance and first impressions and 2nd house can represent luxury and wealth. You may spend a lot of money on your looks (skincare, clothing, makeup etc).

Thank you for getting to the end 😊.

If you'd like a paid reading, 👉click here 👈

If you would like to check out my other astrology observations, check me out at @okuhle23

x Okuhle ❤️

#astro #astro community #astro notes #astro observations #astro tumblr #astrology #astrology aspects #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology placements #astrology tumblr #astrology readings #zodiac #zodiac signs

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kayunivy · 6 days

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Okay.... Let's analyze what happened in dcmk these last few weeks. Obvious SPOLIERS will be commented so you know.

> Appearance of Aoko's mother in Magic Kaito.

Where was she all this time? Why did she never appear or even show a sign of life? She didn't even call her daughter on her birthday... She appears so oblivious to everything, she didn't even know who Kaitou Kid was since her husband has always been obsessed with trying to catch this thief for YEARS. It seems like Gosho just randomly placed her in the story without trying to connect with the canon, it's almost as if she was a character outside of her original manga.

> Film 27 and its breaks in logic and common sense.

After all these years, Gosho decided to go against everything he had already said and made the Kaishin to be cousins, not only ruining a unique relationship (whether you shipped or not) but also bringing plot holes and contradictions in the story. If they are cousins what's the excuse for them never trying to even interact before? Why was it that when Yukiko first met Kaito, she never acted like she was related to her? The same with Toichi, she always talked about him as just her teacher and NOTHING more than that, it doesn't make sense to put that in the story now. Why did Kaito never even have support from his family? Not even showing up at Toichi's symbolic funeral? How come Yusaku never went to talk to his late brother's family, even if he knew the truth KAITO DIDN'T KNOW...

No one even considered his feelings...

> All the bullshit involving Kaishin.

The biggest problem for me about them being cousins is not just because of the ship but because of all the history and construction they had. It's as if everything that's different about them is summed up in the simple fact that they're related. But Kaishin has always had something unique, something that Gosho himself defined as "a mysterious bond". Them not having the slightest type of relationship made everything so unique, a connection that only the two of them could have together, one would easily understand the other even though they were complete strangers. Now I feel like they want to throw that away.

> TOICHI KUROBA AND MY HATE FOR HIM.

Gosho had already said that Toichi was possibly alive but the confirmation brought me a wave of anger and contempt that I had never felt for any other dcmk character (even bo). Let's think about Kaito in this whole story:

• lost his father when he was just a child and is still traumatized by it today.

• for 8 FUCKING YEARS he discovers that his father's death was never an accident but a murder.

• His father was actually an internationally wanted thief who was after a precious stone capable of bringing immortality.

• he steps into his father's shoes as KID and decides to try to find out for himself what happened to his father, who killed him and why.

• now there is a criminal organization that thinks he is the KID who didn't really die and they are trying to kill him once and for all.

• he decides to put himself at risk looking for Pandora, being something belonging to the organization and the police themselves.

• a lot of people hate him, regardless of whether he hurts people or not.

• more and more he becomes more and more removed from everything and becomes burdened with the KID charade.

• his own mother doesn't care about him, on the contrary, it seems like she likes to make things even more difficult for her son (she disguised herself as her dead ex-husband just to screw with her son's head, that's sickening to say the least).

• everything Kaito does is because of his father's murder, he never wanted to be KID, he never liked stealing, he doesn't do any of that for pleasure (except when it involves a certain mini detective but that's not the focus now ).

• and in the end his father was ALIVE all this time, doing who knows what while his son was risking his life because of him... BRO...

This whole thing is insane. And not in a good way.

#i'm insane #I can't stop thinking about Kaito in the middle of all this #someone needs to hug him #i'm crying so hard #my baby :(#kaito deserves the world #kaitou kid #kaito kuroba #conan edogawa #shinichi kudo #kaito x shinichi #kaishin #dcmk #magic kaito #detective conan #meitantei conan #aoko nakamori #toichi kuroba #gosho aoyama

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avelera · 8 days

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thesis about the sea peoples you say? may i request an infodump about the sea peoples?

Heya!

So, basically in college (undergraduate) I got really obsessed with the questions around the Collapse of the Aegean Bronze Age, mostly because I wanted to set my big Magnum Opus historical fiction novel in that time, and the deeper I dug into the rabbit hole the more it appeared that no one, absolutely no one, actually knows why the civilizations around the Mediterranean all fell from a state of pretty sophisticated internationally-trading civilizations to literal Dark Ages (all except for Egypt which was substantially weakened and never really recovered), all at once around 1200-1100 BCE.

The Sea Peoples are the names of the only contemporary (Egyptian) account we have that names who might have been responsible if this collapse was due to an invasion. It's a popular theory because a viking-style invasion is a much sexier reason for a civilization to collapse so we all gather around it like moths to flame. But the thing is, there's a lot of contradictory evidence for and against and shading that hypothesis.

Suffice to say, literally no actually knows what happened and almost every answer comes up, "Some combination of these things, probably?"

But what makes the Collapse even more interesting from a modern perspective is that if there was a historical Trojan War (and I think there was) as fictionalized in the Iliad and the Odyssey (and Song of Achilles, for the Tumbrlistas), then it would have taken place within a generation of the entire civilization that launched the Trojan War crumbling to dust.

So like, if you're Telemachus, your dad Odysseus fights in the Trojan War, some even manage to get home, and then like... everything goes to shit. Catastrophically. And doesn't recover for 400 years.

Seriously, they lost the written word, like how to actually write things down and read them and it took 400 years to get it back. That's how fucked shit got during the Collapse of the Bronze Age.

So my thesis was asking: what if these two things were related? What if the Trojan War either led to the Collapse or it was part of the Collapse or it was a result of the Collapse? Because the timeline is so unknown and muddled that it really could be any of those and again, that's if the Trojan War isn't entirely fictional (which I don't think it is, but many academics disagree, it used to be a whole thing up until Schliemann dug it up, and many doubted it was ever a historical event even after that.)

Ok, so at the risk of writing 75 pages on this again, let me just say:

My conclusion (more of a hypothesis proposal ultimately since there are so many gaps in our knowledge) was that the Trojan War took place before the Collapse of the Bronze Age. But, it might have been launched in response to a wider breakdown in trades routes and resources, causing the Greeks to launch the campaign basically as a bid to replenish their own coffers because they were getting squeezed by what they didn't know was the first rumblings of a global domino effect.

Therefore, since taking out Troy didn't solve those larger trends and forces, they all went home and then got slammed by the REAL problem, which was all the people who had been displaced from further away by this rolling drought or invasion or whatever that was disrupting these delicate international trade routes.

But the Greeks might have been part of the Sea Peoples too! Our only record of the Sea Peoples is from the Egyptians in a highly propagandistic text which makes them sound like this big fearsome foe but that might have been because saying, "We slaughtered a bunch of desperate refugees at our border who were looking for shelter," didn't sound as cool. If the Greeks (or Achaeans or Ahhiyawa) got swept up in this slow-rolling collapse/displacement of people, then they absolutely could have been among those refugees who crashed against the shores of Egypt.

A lot of my evidence was based on looking at how Troy was sacked (it was stripped literally down the nails and there was a lot of evidence of a long-term siege, like what we read about in the Iliad) vs. how Mycenae (Agamemnon's city) or Pylos (King Nestor's city) was sacked, where they were burned and stuff was stolen but they weren't stripped, it looks more like a standard looting hit-and-run type thing. Which led me to believe that it was different turmoil that rocked Mycenae and Pylos than what led to the sacking of Troy, despite the fact these things happened within about 20 years of each other. (Helen being a made-up reason for a resource-driven war would only be the oldest trick in the book, as far as propaganda goes, after all.)

But really, the craziest detail I'll leave you with is: we just don't know! And then it gets weirder. Because the Hittites fell at the same time so the Hittites scholars say, "Nah, the Sea Peoples weren't Hittites, they were probably Greeks." And the GREEK scholars say, "It wasn't us, it was probably the Hittites or someone else. " and the EGYPTIAN scholars say, "Yeah it was someone north of Egypt, maybe the Hittites or the Greeks." and the LEVANT scholars say, "It wasn't from the Levant, we know what was going on there, it has to be from somewhere else."

Literally every single possible source of the Sea Peoples has the scholars who specialize in that location saying it's not them and it must be the guy next door.

It's maddening!

And then there's a big ol' gap around Bulgaria and the Black Sea because, oh yeah, the Soviet Union forbade archaeology in those areas to quash any local pride so those places that were behind the Iron Curtain are decades behind on scholarship that would allow them to say, "Oh hey, it was actually us! Yeah, the invaders came from Bulgaria and got pushed down by a famine." or something to that effect.

We also have some histories from the time saying that the Sons of Heracles returned not long after the Trojan War to lay Greece to waste! And it's really evocative and sounds like it fits what we've got of all these burned cities that happened right after Troy fell! Except that's in doubt now too!

The latest theory is that it was climate change that led to a massive drought. You can read about it in the latest and most popular book on the subject, 1177 BCE which I highly recommend because if it had existed when I wrote my thesis, I wouldn't have had to write it.

But I disagree with the conclusion! Or rather, I'm skeptical. Because very decade, the problems of the day have been hypothesized as being the cause of the Collapse. Like, in the 60s, there was a theory that maybe it was internal strife around a labor strike, like the French Revolution. And y'know when there's a world war, they think it's an invasion. And there was a theory that it was 'cuz of an earthquake (I think that one is nonsense, Mediterranean civilizations famously bounce back quickly from earthquakes.) And now that climate change is on our mind, I'm a little weary to see that it's the new theory because it feels way too much like we're just projecting our problems onto this giant question mark.

Was climate an aspect! I think so! I think it might have contributed to the break down in trade routes that made everyone in the Mediterranean really stressed out and hostile and warlike and led to a lot of displacement. I'm not sure if it's the only reason though and I think the book just kinda reiterates everyone else saying, "I think it was this but in the end, we just don't know, and it was probably a lot of things." which we've known for ages so it's just repeating all the same conclusions. *sigh*

... Like I said, I wrote my thesis on this so yeah, I could go on for a while lol.

#ancient history #bronze age #collapse of the bronze age #sea peoples #lots of generalizations here for brevity so don't jump down my throat if you are also familiar with this era plz

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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Hunter's Delight

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, violence, blood, coercion, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A peaceful getaway turns to horror when you encounter a strange man in the woods.

Character: Kraven the Hunter

Note: So, this isn't what I was planning as my birthday fic but my other fic was just not happening lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The smell of cedar tinges the air. Birds wing across the pale blue sky and critters rustle in the twigs and leaves that trim the forest floor. Shadows nestle between the trunks and lend an ominous hue to any otherwise harmonious landscape.

It’s a long needed escape from urban crush. The fatigue of your nine to five recedes as your brief getaway frees you of the unseen cuffs of modern survival. There are no emails, no memos, or stuffy meetings. There is only you and naked outdoors.

Oh, and your friends.

You never traveled much. Most of the time you had off, you were too tired to do much more than the bare minimum. You hadn’t even thought of it until Larissa invited you. It just never occurred to you to spend the money or the energy. Now you’re more than happy you did.

You follow the snakish path that dips between valleys and over hills, up steep walkways and across sprawling plateaus. The lush green is endless, littered with patches of thick forest, and the occasion running river crested by an old wooden bridge.

Larissa chatters loudly about your eventual return to the cottage. She dreams of kebabs cooked over the campfire and some fruity sangria. You trail the others, four of you in all. Jodi and Cameron ahead of you as your host leads the way. Work friends, but you suppose more now that you’re here.

The river water sends up a fresh scent from behind the looming trunks and you glance over at the gleaming ripples, almost twinkling as you admire them between the trees. You could do this every day. Just wander until you can’t move anymore.

“I can’t believe this is your first time up north,” Jodi says, drawing you from your mind.

“Uh, yeah, never did much exploring I guess,” you shrug.

“Even as a kid?”

“Nope. I think we had one family trip and we didn’t even make it to the amusement park,” you chuckle dryly, “ah well.”

“Ugh, I remember one time, when we were camping, my brother, Toby,” Cameron begins, “he put a frog in my bag. I screamed so loud. My mother didn’t even believe me.”

“Damn,” you remark. Cam tends to do that. Everything in some way relates back to one of her stories.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Larissa stops and faces you, “we have to decide who’s cooking.”

“It’s fine, I said I would–” You begin.

“Boo, that’s no fun,” she snips, “we used to play this game when I was a kid. I always won. Whoever collects the least acorns in ten minutes cooks.”

“Acorns?” You look around nervously. “Where?”

“You shouldn’t get lost. If you go too far, just stay still and we’ll find you,” she brushes off your concern, “it’ll be fun. And I know all the best spots!”

“That’s no fair,” Jodie pouts.

“How about I start after you. I’ll only do five minutes,” she barters.

“How do we know time’s up?” Cam picks a fingernail.

“Like I said, if you don’t show up, we’ll come find you.”

“I guess…”

“Alright, how about, whoever collects the most gets princess treatment for the night. The rest of us will have to serve you drinks and get you whatever you want,” she offers with a smug grin.

You bite your lip but don’t argue. It’s obvious she’s going to win but you wouldn’t mind the chance to explore a bit more. Besides, you never complain about time alone. It’s so peaceful here, that might just be a reward of its own.

“Come on!” Larissa claps, “bragging rights are included.”

“Fine,” Cameron sighs, “I guess it’s not completely stupid.”

“It’ll be fun just to wipe that look off your face, Lar,” Jodi snorts.

You shrug and give a nod. You have little faith in your foraging skills but you don’t mind running to the cooler a few extra times that night. Besides, the cottage did get a bit suffocating with all of you there. This might be your only chance for alone time.

“Alright, on three,” Larissa declares, “one, two–” Jodi sprints off and Larissa holler, “I didn’t say three!”

Cameron runs after her and Larissa scowls. She puts her hands on her hips and drags her foot over the grass. You give a sheepish smile and awkwardly sway.

“Guess they won’t know if I start early,” she says and sets off in the opposite direction.

You slowly putter away as you head for the river. You have no intent of gathering acorns, you just want to watch the water. You weave between the trees and come out to the shore along the winding river. You watch the lazy flow and the little minnows flitting beneath the clear ripples.

You get closer and sit on your knees in the dirt. You drag your hands through the water and push your fingers into the silt. You bend slightly and look at your reflection. You're almost hypnotised by the ambiance.

You close your eyes and pull your hands from the water. You place them on your shorts and take a deep breath. You want to hold onto this moment, to remember it once you're stuck back behind a keyboard.

You smile and your lashes flutter open. You see your reflection again, then it suddenly darkens as a shadow comes up behind you. At first, you’re confused, but you assume it’s one of the girls trying to scare you.

“Very funny–”

You fly forward into the water, arms flailing out as you splash into the shallow depth. Your head is pushed down to the riverbed as a foot crush your skull. You cough and gag, gulping down water as your breath bubbles out of your nose. Your head begins to thrum as you choke until at last, the weight relents and you rip your head from beneath the surface.

A sharp boot cracks into your ribs and sends you onto your back. You heave as you land flat, keeping your head just above the water. A man stands above you, crystal blue eyes boring into you as a growl creases in his forehead. He squats and grabs your chin, unsheathing a large knife from his belt.

“Scream and I’ll cut your throat out,” he warns as he pokes the knife tip along your lip, hushing you as he turns it slowly.

You shut your mouth, eyes rounding in terror as you watch him. Who is he? What does he want? You can’t let him know about the other girls. At least, you hope he doesn’t already.

“Listen to me,” he traces along your jaw and down to your throat, “you will do exactly as I say.”

You blink, saying nothing. His voice is gristly and unbending. His dark hair curls behind his head and he wears a thick beard that thins to coarse stubble. Around his neck is a thick cord with a single fang hanging from it.

Your eyes nearly cross as you try to see the knife in his hand..

“Gold locket. Pearl set in the middle. Bring it to me.”

You stare at him searchingly. It’s like he’s speaking another language. Or your brain just won’t hear them as fear courses through your veins.

“She wears it around her neck.”

You see the golden chain around Larissa’s neck. You noticed it once or twice, never really thinking much of it. You just thought it must be sentimental. Your lip trembles as the man clutches the back of your neck and leans into the blade.

“Why?”

He chuckles, “you want to live. I can feel it. So no more questions and I might let you. The locket, midnight. I will wait here. If you do not come, I will come to you. And you can weep with their heads in your bed.”

You gulp as he smirks at you. You nod slowly as he loosens his grip. He releases you. You almost sink back under the water as he stands and you push yourself up. He swirls the thick knife then holds it up to reflect the sunlight.

“Such a beautiful day, it would be a pity if it were to end in blood.”

“I will bring you the locket. I promise.”

“I know you will,” he says as he struts towards the trees, “it is why I chose you.”

You sit dumbfounded, staring after him until you can see nothing but the trees. You shiver as the water stirs calmly around you, soaking you through to the point of discomfort. You climb out of the river and wrings out the fabric of your shirt.

As you look around at the serenity of the pastoral bliss, you can’t fathom that the man had ever truly been there. The tenderness in your neck assures you otherwise. He was and he will be back.

☀️

“What happened to you?” Cameron giggles as you appear from the trees.

“No acorns, huh?” Jodi boasts.

“I uh… dropped them in the river. Tripped,” you lie. You’re too stunned to explain further.

“You okay?” Larissa asks.

“Yep, fine,” you utter.

“Well, Jodi got eleven and Cameron got eight, and I… got twelve.”

“Cheater,” Jodi mutters under her breath.

You’re thankful they’re too distracted by their child’s game to be very concerned. You throw up your hands. “Looks like I’m cooking,” you resign dully.

“And I get to be pampered,” Larissa trills tauntingly.

“Whatever. You’ll be lucky if I don’t dump the sangria on you,” Cameron warns.

Larissa laughs. The girls might play up their cattiness but it’s just friendly competition. Another thing you never really had growing up. Friends.

They leave the acorns in the grass. You’re quiet as you follow them onwards. You look back just before you’re out of sight of the river. You don’t see the man but you have no doubt he meant what he said. He knew about Larissa and the necklace, that’s enough for you.

🌄

As a gracious loser, and a terrified individual, you volunteer to make a pitcher of sangria for the other girls. They happily accept the offer and go out to get the fire started. The night is quickly setting in as you watch the time on your phone. As there is only one solar charger amongst the bunch of you, your battery stays at fifty percent. Without reception, it isn’t of much use anyhow.

You mix the wine, brandy, lemonade and fruit together with a wooden spoon. You hear Larissa giving orders outside over the crackle of the fire. The locket with the pearl. You know she’s still wearing it, you looked for it and there it was, around her neck. What use is jewelry all the way up here.

Your thoughts are split by the snap of the spring door. Jodi tramps inside and huffs.

“Is the wine ready yet? She’s driving me nuts.”

“I’ll bring it out,” you assure her, “why don’t you grab the kebabs, they’re ready to go.”

You nod to the pan of skewers and she lets out a disappointed grumble. She takes the pan and leaves you again to ponder your impromptu mission. You’re not stupid enough to ask for the locket. You watch the oranges swirl in the wine mixture…

You can’t. Can you? You peek over your shoulder and peek through the window. They wouldn’t notice. You could say you used more wine than you thought.

You turn your back to the window. The girls can survive a few bendaryls, they won’t survive that man and his knife. You can deal with hating yourself. That’s never been hard.

You tiptoe across the kitchen. You don’t know why you think they’ll hear you, your guilt just makes you paranoid. You go down to the room and search in the lower bunk for your bag. You take out your box of emergency benadryl and slide out a full insert. Just enough for an edge, nothing deadly.

You sneak back out and drop the pills one by one into the sangria. You stir and you stir and you stir. Finally, you’re content that your potion is complete. Your curse is pharmaceutical allergy relief with a side of drowsiness. The girls are probably too thirsty to notice you’re not sharing.

🌙

Jodi stumbles back from the outhouse. You watch her cautiously, ready to hop up and catch her. She manages to make her way back to the fire and falls into the folding chair with a burp.

“Damn, that sangria is strong,” Cameron chimes.

“And it’s going right through me,” Jodi slurs into a giggle.

“Me too,” Larissa stands up and puts her hands in front of her shorts, “my turn.”

You listen to her go around the side of the cottage, her sandals scraping and scuffling. Jodi leans her head back and snorts, waking herself and lurching forward. You get up and keep her from falling out of her chair.

“Hey, you should lay down,” you say.

“Lightweight,” Cameron teases and gulps down a mouthful. You try not to cringe.

“Whatever, I’m fine,” Jodi babbles.

“Come on,” you get her up, letting her lean on you heavily.

She’s dragging her feet as you get her across the yard and to the steps of the deck. You haul her up and through the back door. Inside, you feel her slacken on your arm until you're pretty much carrying her. You get her into her bed and roll her onto her stomach, already snoring.

You check the time. It’s late. Just after eleven.

You go back out, the blaze of the fire obscuring your view of the yard.

“Not you too,” Cameron chortles as Larissa falls past the chair trying to sit.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Bleh, listen to the office administrator, she never gives it up,” Larissa sneers, “isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agree softly. You want all the abuse she has to offer you. You deserve it.

“You wanted to be princess for the night,” Cameron calls over, “let her carry you to bed.”

You ignore Cameron as you steady Larissa and direct her around the fire. You take the same path with the same end, dumping her in the singular queen she claimed for herself in the main bedroom. You make sure she’s on her stomach and shake out your nerves.

You flip on the flashlight built into your phone and shine it over her. You apologise before you unclasp the necklace. It’s heavier than you expect. You tuck it in your pocket and leave her.

One more.

Cameron meets you at the door to your surprise. She’s yawning and staggering. You let her pass as she mutters about the fire. You follow her, making sure she gets to her bed before you go outside to kill the fire.

When all is dark and still, you look up at the moon and measure the journey ahead of you. What if you get lost? What if you can’t remember the way back? You think you do. Doesn’t matter. It’s almost half past and you need to get going.

You grip your phone as you come out around the front of the cottage. You remember that you came from the right… didn’t you? You turn on your flashlight again as the darkness consumes you. You tremble at the sheer endlessness of the night.

As you set off, you hear every twig snap, every branch sway, every bat squeaking from some hidden nook. You are exposed to the unseen. Easy prey.

You hear the low trickle of water, louder in the dearth of night. You use it to guide you, flinching as leaves brush against you. You shine the light around you, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings. It only illuminates the shadows and adds to the depths of the blackness.

A noise rolls in the darkness. Thunderous as it grows louder, footsteps making themselves heard, a beast closing in. His laughter comes from all around you, dizzying you as you spin and try to find him.

At once, he quiets and you hear nothing but the stirring of the breeze. No footsteps, not laughter, only the frantic beat of your heart. You stop and squint as you shakily raise your phone, making out the thick trunk of a tree.

There is a sudden warmth behind you. His hand is on yours, squeezing before he rips away your cell. You hear it land in the grass. His other arm hooks around your middle. His breath seeps through your hair and across your scalp.

“Give it.”

You reach into your pocket, squirming as you dig out the necklace. You hold it up with a whimper and he wraps your hand up in his again. His rough skin sends a shiver through you. He hums above the soft tinkle of the chain.

“Very good,” he keeps you close, “you are an obedient little pet, aren’t you?”

You don’t move, you don’t speak. He has what he wants. Now you want to go.

“I’ve decided,” he says bluntly. You hold your breath, trying to decipher his meaning. You try to pull away and his arm hooks tighter around you. “I will take you too.”

“What?” You quiver and grasp his arm, shoving on it without result, “no, let me go–”

“You can scream for me,” he walks you forward until you collide with a tree, putting your hands out to keep from being crushed against the bark, “the louder, the better.”

Your fingertips curl painfully against the tree. He traps you against the tree as he lets out a grow, the heat of his breath and body enshrines you. You shake and whine as panic sinks into your chest.

“Please, let me go. Please, I did what you asked–”

“I’m not asking,” he snarls and grabs your shoulder.

He spins you so violenly you can’t help but fall back against the tree. The subtle friction of metal on leather cools your blood as a sliver of moonlight gleans off the knife’s edge. You brace the tree as you babble dumbly. You don’t want to die.

He brings the curve tip of the knife to the hem of your shirt and yanks up, shearing open the front so that it falls open, revealing the bralette beneath. He makes as quick work as that, slicing up the middle and exposing you to the night chill.

He stands over you, bearing in on you as he bends slowly. You gasp as he clutches a handful of your hair and pulls your head to the side. He leans in and grazes your throat with his teeth. You writhe, caught in the arrest of his gruff touch.

He bits down, pinching your flesh until you cry out. He snickers and unclenches his teeth, trailing further down, teasing along your collarbone and over the tender flesh of your shoulder, once more nipping into you. He tortures your flesh, sucking it until it throbs.

He goes lower, tracing his path first with the metallic cold of the blade, then piercing with his teeth. He bites into the curve of your tit, he leaves sore marks blazing all around, at last taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around your hard bud, toying with it, sucking, flicking, until finally he bites again.

You sob as he sinks his teeth in. You feel the flesh break and the warmth trickles from you into his mouth. He hums as he drinks it in, unlatching to let your rough skin turn fiery in the open air. He tends to the next, just as cruelly, as your body wracks in shock and agony.

How can this be happening? It can’t be real. You don’t understand. Who is this man? Where did he come from? You close your eyes, trying to hide from reality as it nips at your flesh.

You drone as he leaves a trail of spit and blood down your stomach, biting again and again, a tortured trail down to the top of your denim shorts. Your legs shake, threatening to give out.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tisks and pinches your thigh, “you are weak but you will not give up, pet.”

He cuts along the seams of your shorts, left then right. You tremble with bubbling, teary gulps. The denim falls to your feet and he uses the end of his knife to play with the cotton elastic of your panties. He clicks his tongue but does not voice his amusement further.

He drops to his knees, a hand framing your hip as your legs quake. He squeezes, his thumb jabbing into your pelvis. He drags his knife down the front of your panties and hooks the fabric along the tip. He tugs until they rip, breaking through the fabric, cutting a line along your cunt.

He turns the flat of the blade against your flesh, grazing the folds before pulling it away. You bat your lashes as terror overflows. Your head lolls as your muscles twitch. You see the man’s faint shadow in the slats of moonlight breaking between the cedar trunks, you hear him lick the blade with a purr.

A silver shine reflects the eerie night glow as he raises his knife. You scream as he aims it toward you, stabbing into the wood just beside you. Your heart hammers to cacophony as he laughs at your fright.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, his calloused fingers mean against your soft skin. He feels along the shorn cotton and dips two fingers into the opening. He delves between your lips, flicking his fingers up and down your cunt. Your legs quiver and you clutch onto the divots in the bark, fighting not to fold into a heap.

He slides his fingers back and forth, feeling every part of you, doting on your clit, only to trail back to your entrance. You suck in air sharply and sob. Please just do it. Just let it be over with.

He pushes into you. Slowly, Deliberately. He leans forward and nuzzles the soft vee of hair along your cunt and sighs into you as he wiggles his fingers deeper and deeper. You groan as he stretches you. Even as your body reacts, even as the slickness welcomes the intrusion, it hurts.

He growls as he meets some resistance. You clench around his knuckles and he rams his fingers into you, to their limit. You shriek and your sandals slip in the dirt. Your nail catches in the veins of the tree and snaps.

The coolness of his tongue frightens you as it pokes out and slides along your lips. He tilts his head and glides between your folds, doting on your clit with furious flutters. You gulp and gasp, panting as a new heat blooms inside of you. Your pulse races with more than adrenaline.

He eases his fingers back then in again. Your cunt clenches around him, constricting as his tongue toys with you, flurries your nerves to an unbearable storm. Your insides clutch as rivulets of hot and cold gather in your core, mingling to a fiery roil.

You spasm, stunned by your own body. You stand on your toes as your muscles tauten and your nerves ping off each other. You cum with a raspy whine, forced over the edge by the battle of his thrusting fingers and diligent tongue.

His laughter rumbles through you as he indulges in your dissemblance. He slows as you heave helplessly. He slides his fingers out of you, leaving an emptiness there, and wipes your cum down your leg. He parts from your cunt entirely, a rocky snarl as he stands.

You smell yourself on his breath as he comes close again. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you away from the tree. Your legs tingle and shake beneath you. He turns and hurls you down to the ground. You land on your knees, hitting your elbows in the dirt.

He grabs your hips, keeping them up. He kneels behind you, one hand brushing up your back and forcing your chest down to the ground. You don’t fight him, you have nothing left.

He feels along your panties, hooking his fingers in the rent of the fabric and tears it further up your ass. He gropes you roughly, digging his nails into your skin and dragging them up, leaving hot scratches along your ass. He runs his hand from your shoulders to your hip, gripping you as his other hand retreats from your ass.

The air stills and your ears ring as each breath scalds in your chest. You stare into the deep void of the forest as his zipper splits through the silence. Time slows as dread suffocates you. This is it. This is really happening.

His fingers tickle along your ass and you twitch. He reaches your cunt, rubbing and spreading your lips, taunting you as he curves his fingers along it. He edges closer on your knees, pushing yours wider, and he pulls his hand away.

He prods you with his tip, making a slow path down to your entrance. He circles it as he groans, basking in the tension of that moment. He leans against you until his tip slips into you. You strain around him, heaving into a horrifying wail as he pushes deeper.

He reaches to your neck, pinning your face in the dirt as he jerks his hip, filling you with the single, agonizing motion. You cry out louder, your horror echoing into the sky. Your head quakes and your ears vibrate with the volume of your own grief, rising from you without restraint.

He slides back and snaps into you again. The slap of flesh underlines your breathy weeps. His weight puts an ache in your neck and down your spine. Your fingers dip into the dirt as you clutch at handfuls of dirt. He bucks again, again, again, each time growling with delight.

His palm cracks against the side of your ass, a new pain radiating through your hips. With each thrust, he smacks you, curling his nails into you, pinching, only to do it again. You whimper and wail, trapped in his fervour as you taste soil and the salt of your tears.

He bends over you, hooking his arm around your middle and the other around your neck. He sits up with you against him. His hand brushes up your side and kneads your chest as he rocks you in his lap. Your head lolls as you hiccup through your tears.

He ruts from below, splitting you in two as his muscle bulges around your neck. You wheeze as he squeezes tighter and tighter, until the world speckles to grey and black. You feel his final, jarring rams as they throb in your core, and the sudden burst of heat inside you. Almost soothing as it assures you of the end.

But it is not. He puts you on your back. Senseless, dazed, he’s on top of you, crawling over you like an animal. He fucking you against the ground, holding your leg bent against him, biting into the flesh along your shoulder. Torturing you from the inside until he’s spent again.

Not spent, not done. You’re on your side, the world flickering beneath teared-webbed lashes, each ruts shaking you. Legs together, he claps against your thighs until again he empties into you with a raucous roar.

Again, again, again. Until you’re smeared with dirt, grass, sweat, and cum. Until you’re left an empty husk across the forest floor.

Your eyelids part as he pulls the blade from the tree, a softer light emanating from the sky as the dawn approaches. He sheathes the knife as he marches around you, poking you with the dirt of his boot. He stops and squats at your side, a crooked smile on his lips.

“This hunt is not over, pet,” he reaches to brush a roughened thumb across your cheek, “I know you are stronger than this.”

He stands again and rolls his shoulders as he shakes out his mussed curls. He takes a step forward, then another, and another, striding into the sunrise without a look back. You lay prone across the lumpy ground, trying to untangle his words. They are more than a warning, they are a promise.

#kraven the hunter #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #kraven the hunter x reader #one shot #marvel

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

Note

can you give me a quick bio on ghost…his personality, how you view him canon and what not

Ghost headcanons

Ghost doesn't wear a mask in public. It's easier to maintain his anonymity that way because a skull mask/balaclava would only draw more attention. The only instances he might wear it in a public place would be if he's with people he doesn't wish to get linked to/associated with (like in the famous scene where he's at a bar with Laswell & co)

He doesn't have a home, not even a rental flat. He stays at the base, stays at motels, hotels, b&bs when he's in England. Partly because having anything stable in his life is dangerous, partly because his attachment issues are so severe that even owning a place will make him feel uncomfortable. Returning to the same, dusty place with only a tv and a fridge to keep him company is depressing.

He never visits Manchester. Too many sour memories and too many people who might still recognize him when he's supposed to be dead. There's no one there left to visit either, save for a few old friends who he can't keep in contact with because he wants to protect them.

He hasn't dated since he was 20-something. He doesn't want to take the risk of losing his loved ones ever again. He's had a few one night stands but disappears before dawn, hating the man he has to be in order to protect those who might otherwise steal their way into his heart.

He's considered using escort services instead, but even the thought leaves a foul taste in his mouth because of his childhood memories and the things his father did to women. He goes to strip clubs sometimes when he has a weak moment, drinks one whiskey and then goes to his motel room and jerks himself off, feeling lousy and even more depressed afterward.

If we ignore this man's attachment issues and complex trauma and imagine he would settle into a situationship or even a relationship:

Ghost is not mean, brutal or abusive. In bed or in any non-work related circumstances (Ghost would say he's not brutal or mean at work either: he's just efficient.) He can be rough if you want and even enjoys manhandling you a little, but he would have a hard time degrading you. He's a soft dom and a service top through and through and quite the gentleman at heart.

He has a lot of money. He's not a spender and has no kids so the pile of wealth he's accumulated over the years is quite enormous. He will spend his money on you though, take you out to dinner, buy you anything you need. He does it so willingly and effortlessly that you soon get a feeling that he's your sugar daddy or at least would want to be. He pays your electricity bill if he finds it on your table and sees it's overdue, doesn't even bother to ask for your permission. And oh, do you need a gorgeous dress for some occasion? Let him buy it for you. You need a car? Sure, no problem at all.

He's paranoid to the point of not telling you when he's about to visit you. He just pops on your doorstep, looking dog-tired and ten years older than he really is. The only thing he leaves in your apartment is a toothbrush and perhaps one of his sweatshirts (if you ask nicely.)

He seems to have a sixth sense, and is very superstitious. He thinks telling you he loves you is a perfect way to attract malevolent attention and bad luck upon himself, so he refrains from being verbal about how he truly feels. You think he's indifferent, that you're just a shag for this man, but in truth he's dedicated and devoted to you and sees no one else but you, thinks about you at work so much so that he already calls you a distraction in his mind. It's dangerous, his feelings are already bringing him bad luck, and so the cycle of silence continues…

He's an incredible hacker but uses old, foolproof technology to avoid being traced. You can never call him, he always calls you. If he even calls.

He's not a drinker and doesn't like to see you drinking either. He absolutely, vehemently hates drugs.

He's embarrassed about it but he has read like 5 novels in his lifetime. All other books have been non-fiction, manuals and the like. He says he hasn't got the time to read.

He loves to see you in ultra feminine underwear. Lace, stay ups, suspenders: he loves to undress you like you're a delicately wrapped Christmas present just for him.

He loves to eat pussy. He would eat you all day, every day, for the rest of his life if he could. He especially loves it when you ride his face and he gets to feel how your thighs start to tremble next to his face.

He loves missionary. Loves loves loves to spread you open and spread his religion. You even joke about it: that his ass is so fit because he fucks you so much, and he only smiles to himself because it's true.

Ghost wants kids, but would he ever tell you that? No. He never tells you anything. You know nothing of this man, not even his favorite movie or his favorite color (which is not black, btw).

He has a terrible praise kink. He loves praising you, teasing you, making you flustered while he's inside you – but if you ever tell him he's big? He's good? That you like it when he smiles? His brain goes full error. He fucks up the rhythm of his thrusts and has to gather his breath. (Then he ups the stakes and praises you even more. Because he also has to win. Always.)

If you ever tell him you miss him, that you can't sleep without him… He disappears for weeks. Then he suddenly comes back, more touch starved and desperate than ever. Your words have gone under his skin whether he likes it or not. You can't even tell whether he's fucking you or making love to you, but you're left feeling like you just got hit by the most loving, gentle bus. There's no explanation, and it's futile to try and pry what's gone into him. But just before you fall asleep, he ghosts his fingers down your arm and whispers: "Pet… I missed you too."

#answered #simon ghost riley #ghost headcanons #simon riley headcanons #not a quick bio but #*shrugs*

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zeroxs-stuff · 2 months

Text

Give me tough love.

SAVE PALESTINE^

☆summary: abby’s anger and frustration gets the best of her as your attempts to get her to snap finally takes effect. She has no choice but to discipline you in the only way she knows how, tough love.

☆content warning (?)/tags: angry sex, gagging, lesbian sex, use of strap, use of the word “cock” for strap, doggy-style sex, face fucking, aggressive sex, crying kink, (mild) dumbification kink, incorrect use of a couch.

☆pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

!nsfw under the cut!

She couldn’t take it anymore. The fuck were you doing—? being so god damn stubborn.

First, it was the missions. You had almost risked getting bitten by an infected just so you could ‘show off’ apparently, like that would ever work in a life or death situation. Then it was patrol; you begged and pleaded to isaac just to let you come with anyone else that wasn’t manny—because of course, you just can't handle two seconds without being able to fucking complain today, which she related to in most cases—but in this one? It was too fucking much. And oh my god, that isn’t even all.

All day, youve been teasing her and making fun of literally everything and goodness—she loved you with all her heart, but she really could not fucking take another word from you—not today.

As you were just about to make another aggravating complaint about how annoying Manny was yesterday when you and him were on patrol together, her inhumane thoughts paired with your speaking was interrupted by her own voice. She turns around to look at you, “baby— could you just—please, give me a second? I’m working.” She says in a cold and stern tone, getting back to writing her reports in the nick of time before you could say anything else.

But to her not surprise, of course you didn’t shut up.

You whined like a little kid—a cheeky smile plastered on your face as you resumed the mission of bothering her, “Hey..don’t be like that.” you demand as you tug on her strong and unmoving arms, “Can’t you just do the reports later or something?” you said while your face lit up with amusement.

She couldn’t fucking handle it anymore.

She got up from her chair with a loud thud, angrily walking to you and her’s shared bedroom and loudly opening one of the drawers.

Which just so happened to be….that drawer.

She closed it just as loudly as she had opened it, in her hands held a strap that she would usually use on you—and considering the circumstances, that definitely was going to be the case today.

Her steps to you echoed through the room like a drum. She was practically fuming as she attached it onto herself, making sure to do it quickly because she couldn’t handle another second of your mouth running over, and over, and over again.

Within a split second of your panicking state—you realized what she was gonna do, and you knew in your mind that you had to stop her aggression from getting any worse because god forbid , you were about to get your shit rocked.

She took you by your waist and dragged you onto the couch, making you drop down on it harshly.

The image of her lubricating her strap came into view and your vision started going hazy. You attempted to protest—to ask for mercy before your limbs were about to go numb because of her.

You tugged on her arm as sorry whines came out of your mouth, trying your hardest to persuade her. “A-Abby—please, ‘m so, so sorry—“

Your words were cut off when she shoved the strap down your throat.

She sighed deeply in relief, “Fuckin’ finally.” She said, shoving it in deeper just to taunt you as you heard the squelch of the strap being pushed inches down your throat.

She put her rough, calloused hands and put them behind your head, grabbing your hair so she could support herself easier. Meanwhile you were being forced to take it with tears streaming down your eyes; your gag reflex being triggered but having no choice but to just take it.

You looked up at her with glossy eyes, some tears even falling down to your chin. You couldn’t say anything—not with this god damn strap down your throat.

She chuckled at the sight, it was an understatement to say she was so, fucking satisfied. She put her other hand on your face, cupping your cheek, “Poor baby..what? Can’t talk ‘nymore?”

You cried on her cock, but slowly getting used to the feeling of having something so big down your throat. You couldn’t let anything out but twisted and muffled mumbles and cries, “Nnggghh—” You whimpered in an attempt to get her to pull out of you.

She only shoved herself deeper—grabbing the back of your head and shoving herself in, consoling you in the most humiliating way possible, “shhh..it's okay doll, just let it happen.” she laughs while leaning down and whispering in your ear, “you were meant to be down there anyway.”

You whimpered in pain, though.. but you actually started enjoying it.

She took her fingers and shoved them deep into your scalp, taking a big portion of your hair and pulling back so she could thrust into you deeper. Your body obliged to her requests—taking her almost perfectly. She smiles and lets go of her grip on your hair as a reward, a sign of mercy. “Atta girl, that’s it.”

she mumbles, “Just let it happen.”

Just as you were starting to get used to the discomfort, she pulled out of you which caused you to let out one of the most painful sounded yelps of your life. You cough in surprise, “M-Mph—o-ouch..” you said, rubbing your throat.

She wanted to shut you up yet again. To your surprise, she kissed you roughly–though keeping her hands at a gentle pace, because of course, she wouldn't want to actually hurt you. But her words spoke harshly in contrast, “did i tell you you could talk?” she says while making sure to tug at your hair a bit.

You barely had time to react because just as you were about to speak, she pulled away and shifted gears to turning you around and shoving your face in one of the couch pillows, making you bend over. You felt your back arch forcefully at the cold contact of her hands on your waist–those same hands practically folding you in half, instinctively listening to whatever she wanted you to do.

As you were fully bent over–face down, your bottom half on full view for her, she leaned over you and gave you stability; her punishing and intimidating demeanor almost fully vanishing as she checked for your physical state as well as your consent, “you okay with this?” she asks worryingly while rubbing circles on your tummy with her hand, and patting you on the back with the other. You chuckled at the switch of her attitude, “mhm.” you nodded.

Despite your agreement to her conditions, she still needed confirmation. She asks again in hopes of a reassuring answer, “are you sure?” she says.

You smile and give her a small kiss on the cheek, leaning back a bit since the position wasn’t the best for kisses. “Promise.”

«────── « ⋅ʚ☆ɞ⋅ » ──────»

God, you wish you didn’t fucking say that.

Because next thing you know, your brain power was long gone, so and so was the stability in your limbs. You couldn’t form any coherent thoughts, neither coherent words.

Each time she thrusted into you, your brain would reset and you could barely even speak clearly. You slurred over yourself as the slick ran down both of your thighs that abby held apart, “mhhh….ahh…p-please,” you begged, though she thrusted again, “aah–! mmmnhh…” you cried— your brain being blanked out and milked of all the thoughts it could produce.

The squelching noises of her cock disappearing into you and reappearing as she pulled out filled the heavy aroma of the room. She slowed down her speed but made sure to thrust in a little deeper than she did before, her strap touching the rim of your cervix with the penetration, “Shh..thats it, thats my girl.…just keep yourself like this f’ me.”

You nodded and got off to her praise. You were getting close to the edge.

So.

Fucking.

Close.

She thrusted faster, and faster and faster, your back arching and clawing at the bedsheets below you; ready to finally recieve what you were waiting and working fucking hours for—

wait…what?

The satisfaction was ripped away in a split second as you felt her stop at the last second, your sensitivity quickly increasing and the chances of gaining back your orgasm decreasing.

You cried out almost pitifully, “A-Abs—-p-please…-not again—!”

She leaned over and kissed your cheek as she kept her cock still stuffed in you, not pulling out any time soon, “Shh…one more for me pretty girl, just one more.” it had seemed like the millionth time that shes said something like that, but you complied anyway. “Okay..” you said with a tired but oh so fucking satisfied tone.

She starts thrusting in again, “That’s my girl.”

«────── « ⋅ʚ☆ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Authors note: hello!! Thank you for reading :)) i apologize, since this was a bit short and a bit rushed; and was more like a oneshot than an actual fic. Though i hope you guys still enjoyed despite that.

(P.S, abby probably gives AMAZING aftercare after this. So don’t worry too much hehe （＾∇＾) )

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #the last of us #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou fic #tlou2 #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw ns/fw

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versadies · 1 year

Text

it’s not what it looks like !! (w/ gn!reader)

SALUTATIONS. it’s not what it looks like !!

ADDRESSED. alhaitham (w/ performer!reader)

CONTENT. fluff/no-angst, spoilers to sumeru archon quest act 1 and act 5, aether is traveler in this one (sorry traveler!lumine lovers 😭🙏🙏), mentions of murder (figuratively), ooc alhaitham

STAMP. you and alhaitham seems to have some beef with one another due to akademiya’s determination in taking down anything related to performing arts — but as far as traveler knows, there’s something more.

POST-SCRIPT. here’s my first ever fic of alhaitham <333 hes so cool in the latest archon quest, i hope i got him right in this fic :DDD !!

LINKS. main masterlist | taglist

“Me? Liking them? Oh please. If I ever take one look at them, I’ll barely hold back all the food I’ve eaten from rising up to my mouth.” Alhaitham says with a scoff.

He claims such a dramatic comment with complete disgust in his tone, yet Aether would sometimes catch the scribe never leaving his sight on you whenever you’re in the same room as him, minding your own business as you go on with your day.

Had it not been for that look Alhaitham has on his face every time he sees you, the traveler would be convinced that he hated you.

It’s not like there was even a moment when the scribe was acting nice towards you. Given that you’re a performer in the Grand Bazaar, it’s not surprising for someone like Alhaitham to not like you, especially since the Akademiya looks down on performing arts. If anything, Aether always sees you two arguing about something (almost like an old married couple would, Paimon comments), but it was never like the ones with General Mahamatra nor his roommate for some reason the honorary knight can’t explain.

With you, Alhaitham always has this look on his face that makes it look like he’s enjoying your conversations. He usually visits the Grand Bazaar to remind you about whatever the Akademiya said to him about performing arts being forbidden, so it’s no surprise that you always look like you’re on the verge to commit murder from whatever he said to you. Aether’s sort of surprised Alhaitham isn’t dead yet.

“Alhaitham? Ugh, I can’t stand seeing him. He should know that we’ve done nothing wrong here and leave us alone.” You said, rolling your eyes at the thought of the scribe. “I don’t understand how you’re friends with a guy like him, he’s so… blegh!”

You claim such a statement, yet Aether noticed how the first thing you do after your performances is to ask if Alhaitham is still around watching. Of course, you claim it’s because you hope “he was so blown away by your performance he flew away from the Grand Bazaar and never come back”, but Aether feels like it’s more than just that. Not that the honorary knight would say that aloud, not when he doesn’t want to risk getting on your bad side.

Now that he thinks about it… It’s strange how Alhaitham is sometimes around whenever you perform…

Nah, he must be overthinking things.

Or so he thought.

He was just taking a stroll around Sumeru City at night after the celebration feast, not being able to sleep with a very full stomach. It was only when he turned to a secluded area when he spotted two silhouettes, only to realize that they belonged to two familiar people when he came closer to see who they were.

Is that you and Alhaitham? What are you two doing there?

He assumes the two of you were arguing once again, but he didn’t try to come up to the both of you in fear of bothering you two and getting involved. However, as he was about to turn around and walk away, something made him stop.

He sees how Alhaitham lean towards you, almost as if he’s leaning for a kiss–

Wait.

What?

Surely, his sleepy mind is playing games with him. You and Alhaitham? Kissing?

As much as Aether doesn’t want to admit it, you and Alhaitham being in love isn’t too surprising given that he had his speculations, but it’s still a shock to see you two being so.. affectionate.

It was only when you pulled away from your kiss when you realized you had company, causing you to gasp.

“...T-Traveler!” You said in a surprised tone, pushing off Alhaitham away with a nervous laughter. “What.. What brings you here?!”

Aether panics when he’s caught by you and Alhaitham, who’s glaring at the traveler for ruining his moment with you.

“...I didn’t see anything!” Aether says before running away, leaving you and your lover alone in confusion and taken back.

The two of you then look at each other before you begin to laugh at what just occurred.

“I’m sure the traveler wouldn’t say a word about this. It’s about time someone eventually catches you and I together.” Alhaitham says, his mouth twitching upwards at the sounds of your laughter blessing his ears.

You nod in agreement with a wide smile, imagining how Aether would act with you two around from now on after finding out. “Of course, of course. But then again.. Since Azar and the other sages are gone, wouldn’t that mean we’re safe enough to be seen together in public now?”

His hand slowly reaches towards yours and holds it, missing your touch already. “Is that what you want? I thought you were enjoying our acting performances.”

You grinned. “It is amusing to see people’s reactions to us “arguing” with each other, but I prefer being seen with you as a couple. How long has it been since we’ve spent our dates somewhere in public rather than the woods?” You respond.

Alhaitham hums. “If it’s what you want, then I see no reason not to object. I was getting tired of seeing your admirers’ letters and gifts on your doorstep. I can’t wait to see their reactions when they find out you’re dating the Akademiya’s Scribe.”

“Who knew you’d get jealous over such things, you know you own my heart.” You tease, letting go of his hold on your hand before you begin to wrap your arms around your lover.

He wraps his arms around you in return, leaning his forehead against yours. “And you own mine.”

The two of you then share one last kiss before deciding that it’s time for you to come back home. However, instead of coming out of the secluded area separately like what you two always do, you were walking back home holding each other’s hands, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of Sumeru City under the stars.

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @nejibot @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @nejibot @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @lychme @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino @dudufodd @somberrock

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x you #genshin fluff #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #al haitham x reader #al haitham x gn reader

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spadesolace · 4 months

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drag me down: stockholm syndrome

synopsis: pham hanni isn't one to admit her feelings nor is she aware of her own feelings. but why does her heart aches watching you laugh with your friends or being physically affectionate with your friends?

words: 2.4k

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It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize that going out in the middle of the night only in her pajamas would get her sick. A cold didn’t kill anybody but she doesn’t want to risk getting others sick. Along with a fever that is quite high, it would be best to miss one day of school, despite hating it herself.

Hanni did not know that. After the short fight at Y/N’s place, she used her time to reflect and think things through. Why did she want to kiss her, what was in that atmosphere that in two consecutive nights led to her wanting some sort of affection from her rival? Seeing the empty chair next to her, no annoying Park Y/N next to her to annoy her. Shouldn’t it be bliss to have a bit of peace and quiet for once?

“She’s not going to class if that’s what you’re waiting for.” Chaewon showed her text with Y/N to Hanni, her personality being different in SNS. Who would have thought that seeing that had spark some flames in Hanni’s heart.

chaechae: why aren’t you in class?

ynn: im sick, body temp is 38 C with a bit of sniffles

chaechae: hehe sniffles, anyw gws!!! i’ll tell the girls

ynn: ily and thank u, chae

How is it that simple text makes Hanni’s blood boil to the point of possibly wanting to cause harm? This can’t be jealousy. It can’t be.

Within the entire day, where Y/N would sit, some people dared to sit next to Hanni. Most of which tried to copy her work, some were to converse with her, and then there was Jungwon who tried his best to keep the girl company. Neither of those made Hanni smile, laugh, it made her even more annoyed with everyone and everything. Jungwon still stayed after Hanni had told him off politely that he shouldn’t be transferring seats. Only to be rebutted.

“There’s no more seating arrangements, Hanni. Y/N isn’t here to take her seat so its free.” Hanni doesn’t have the energy to fight the guy when Chaewon was literally on a quick video call with Y/N.

“YAH! You told me to call you when it was time for you to take your meds.” She could only faintly see the sickly figure of Y/N who was laying on her bed with her laptop next to her. Would it be bad wanting to steal the phone for her to talk to Y/N?

Chaewon had turned around and placed her phone in front of Hanni, a smile on her face as she removed her earphones. The sickly figure on the screen looked at her with a small smile, her teasing smile that seemed so weak yet full of passion.

“I hope you’re not missing me much, Pham.” She may have looked annoyed but there was a hint of blush on her cheek.

“As if, Park.”

“Mhmm… Jungwon, get out of my seat.” Even if the voice was nasally, Hanni could easily distinguish Y/N’s voice whether it was joking or pissed. Jungwon would still be scared of Y/N either way, hurriedly saying goodbye and moving back to his place.

“Han.”

“Y/N.”

“Give the phone back to Chae.” Even if that was the end of that conversation, Hanni had a small smile on her face as Chaewon scolded Y/N. A bit of pain was still there but at least Hanni had managed to talk to you for a short while.

It didn’t slip past Minji to notice the change in demeanour of her best friend. One that rarely gets annoyed at people, to the point she would rather have her head chopped off if anyone would try to talk to her again. The small smile on her face was as clear as daylight, and watching the entire interaction just made Minji think about what had happened when the pair went out.

Hanni’s thoughts were interrupted by her phone, a message from Y/N. It was already rare to message each other that was not academics related, and upon seeing the message. Hanni’s thoughts had never been such a mess.

park y/n: why is he on my seat?

pham hanni: idk, he sat there bc you weren’t here

park y/n: ok.

Maybe it was the small interaction after half a day without Y/N annoying her or being in the same vicinity as her. Minji noticed the way Hanni had become calmer, no longer annoyed or had a hint of distaste. There’s something Park Y/N has that belongs to Hanni and it makes the gears in Minji’s head turn. Chaewon isn’t aware of anything happening behind her, let alone the burning gaze Hanni is sending her way.

“Oh shit.”

Hanni is oblivious to things, and Minji can easily work with it. A table filled with student council work with nothing but stress for the grad ball, Minji saw it as the perfect opportunity to simply ask questions. Between the two, Minji knows Hanni’s emotions better than anyone else; she’s the one that made Hanni realize her feelings for Jay was nothing but a crush, but with Jungwon - that was a mystery to Minji. She questioned why Hanni said yes to him courting her, or how she rarely spends time and effort with him.

Easing up to the conversation from grad ball preparations to asking Hanni who she’ll go with only to be answered that left Minji confused.

“Not Jungwon, that’s for sure.”

“What? He hasn’t asked you yet?” Hanni shook her head as she cleared the paperwork for the grad ball, finalising the sponsorship with Park Food Corporations.

“Y/N sorta asked me.” Confusion, concern, every other emotion as Minji processes every word that left Hanni’s mouth. How did Y/N even ask her out, or how Hanni agreed to it?

“So… during your date with Y/N?”

“Not a date.”

Minji could only look at Hanni with pure confusion. Being highly aware that both Hanni and Y/N were left alone the other day – according to Ms. Park Jihyo herself, they were even holding hands. Which makes Minji question if they’re dating behind everyone’s back or something else is going on.

Hanni’s mind has been a mess after the dinner at the Park estate. How their parents seem to like the pair together, even being asked to go to the graduation ball with Y/N. What is there to Y/N that makes her blood boil but at the same time miss her and get so irritated with everything else that does not relate to her. Even Jungwon can’t ease her mind, let alone she now sees him as some sort of hindrance to her abilities and goals in the future.

“Earth to Phampham? Helloooo?” Hanni shook her head, looking at the papers in front of her then to Minji who looked at her concerned. Park Food Corporations in her handwriting with the signature of their representative of the company below. All of her thoughts – from when she wakes up to laying in bed staring in the ceiling – all she could think of is Park Y/N.

“You good? You’ve been out of it for a while.” Minji checks her temperature, nothing out of the ordinary, just Hanni spacing out more than usual.

“I’m good, just tired.”

“Whatever you say, phampham. Just know that I’m here if you wanna talk.”

Hanni nodded, watching Minji pack up and leave her alone in the room. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with the scene of Y/N kissing her on repeat. Alone with the thought of Park Y/N.

Hanni slowly became more irritated with the people around her, especially after Y/N had come back and asked Minji if she could sit next to Chaewon. It wasn’t that bad at first, maybe the two had a lot to catch up on while she was gone but she could have asked Hanni regarding assignments and extracurriculars missed and not her friend. Minji taking notice of how Hanni easily snaps and loses focus as she watches Y/N across from her wearing a mask and slowly showing more signs of energy compared to the day she had come back. It was evident that Hanni was being avoided as if she carried the plague once Y/N had come back.

“That’s the third pencil you broke this week – are you sure you’re fine?” Hanni was not ok, whatever she’s feeling or whatever her thoughts of planning a murder and getting away with it. She is definitely not ok.

Even at lunch or when the pair lock the classroom for break, not a single conversation or an utterance of spite or hatred was thrown at Hanni. Silence. Like she doesn’t exist and the goal was to get away from her as soon as possible and it pains her to see Y/N smile at someone else other than her. There’s still the rival aspect but after what had happened, after the kiss, shouldn’t it be addressed that there is more to it than meets the eye.

In the table quite far from them sat Y/N’s circle, seeing the girl laughing at the things being thrown around the table, Hanni wishes she could be the reason for that stupid smile on your face. Watching Chaewon lean on her shoulder and watching the slight public display of affection, her right eye started twitching. Planning a murder in her mind as she watches how affectionate the pair is, she has never noticed how affectionate the girl is not until she realized how much space she occupies in Hanni’s mind (and possibly her heart).

“Do you think if I asked for a bottle of chloroform from our lab technician, I’d be a suspect in a possible murder case?” It was out of the blue, her entire friend group looked at her as if she’s insane, following her line of sight, it made sense that it would be directed at Y/N.

“Let your rival live, I’m just here for the plot of it.” Haerin watches how the table at the back seems to have its life back within the two days that Y/N was gone. It was a given fact that she was the sunshine along with Eunchae within the group and missing that meant silence and no one to tease Hanni to.

“Huh? Since when did Chaewon and Y/N become a couple?” Minji and Hanni looked at Danielle as if she had stated the most absurd thing aside from the possible murder case that Pham Hanni is planning in the back of her mind.

“They’re not!” Danielle, Haerin, and Hyein looked at the pair in shock - aside from Minji and her obvious crush on the feisty girl that she sits next to. It was the fact that Hanni’s reaction regarding the possible relationship was what made everyone lose it. Even she was shocked by what she had said.

“Oh my god – you like Pa-” Hanni covered Hyein’s mouth before she could finish her sentence. Minji assumed that was the case after the whole call incident and the graduation ball date. With the reaction like that, surely Hanni likes Y/N.

“That… explains… a lot.” The group looked at the eldest as the initial shock of the revelation finally sinks in to everyone. Pushing Jungwon away, getting snappy, and it’s all because of a girl.

“Shut it, Minji. That does not explain anything at all.”

“I thought you were straight.”

The group laughed at Haerin’s comment, only for Hanni to smack the cat-like girl.

She doesn’t like Y/N, she’s merely intrigued by the girl that used to sit next to her and always consumes coffee as if her life depends on it. The girl that wears rings all the time and fidgets with it whenever she’s thinking or nervous - or how her uniform is always a mess and it’s her job to fix it while she gets a scolding from her. The girl that lowkey has anime merchandise keychains on her bag and no one would immediately get it unless they watch it. The very same girl that is the daughter to a rich family that she could possibly be the next owner of.

No, she doesn’t like Park Y/N. I’m in denial.

Hanni wonders how she ended up here, sitting in a cafe far from the counter holding a cup of hot chocolate while acting as if she’s reading a book but in reality she is just observing her rival preparing coffee.

Even in the cafe, she would go lengths to avoid Hanni such as making Sakura take her order. She didn’t expect for Hanni to be at the cafe, let alone she never knew that Hanni goes out and not stay in her room to study all day – it’s weirder to see Hanni out of nowhere than seeing a teacher during the weekend during normal day to day things.

“I’m guessing that’s Hanni.” Sakura leans on the counter as she watches the supposed owner of the cafe clean up. Seeing her ears slowly turn a shade of red simply from the mention of the girl’s name and tensing simply by looking at the one of the few customers they have during early in the morning.

“Can’t believe Chae already spilled you the details.”

“In exchange, she did admit to liking Minji. I think that’s a win-win scenario.”

Y/N chuckled at Sakura’s comment, it was deemed fair that Chaewon would know as to why there was a need to switch seats with Minji. In exchange, both of them admitted to liking their seatmates and partners for the project. The difference is that Chaewon isn’t fighting for the attention of her crush against multiple other people; Pham Hanni is still in a somewhat relationship with Jungwon.

Hanni doesn’t know why watching Y/N laughing and being playful with her coworker makes her heart hurt. She has Jungwon but why does her heart scream for the girl that has been ignoring her for almost a week. How she wishes that she could run into her arms and kiss her, but now she’s watching her leaning towards her coworker with ash gray hair that she believes is the sweetest barista but in her eyes it's someone who wants Park Y/N.

“You’re really playing with fire, Y/NN.”

“Unnie, let’s just see if she’ll do something with her feelings,”

Park Y/N, look at what you’ve done to me. Is this what they call jealousy? If it is, Pham Hanni hates it.

She hates that she’s falling for Park Y/N.

#pham hanni #hanni x reader #hanni imagines #hanni #newjeans hanni #nwjns #hanni pham #newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans #drag me down #dmd!yn

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lees-chaotic-brain · 1 month

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Okay, ocean-loving Inumaki, you know? those who love jellyfish and have shark pajamas. Taking him on a date to the aquarium, I feel like he would be very happy and look so tiny 🤏🏻 Whatever. I love how you writing you're great!

You take Inumaki on an aquarium date

WC: 1.4k

CW: mentions of octopi having sex ig, fluff, NOT beta-read, read at your own risk

Note: @kainlvstoge omg i'm sorry this took so long, but thank you so much for your kind words!! i had never thought about my boy inumaki as an ocean lover, but i can see it now that you said it. anyways, i hope you enjoy it!!! also: i had to do a little research for this fic, so take any facts with a grain of salt

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Every single date your boyfriend had taken you on was perfect; like something out of a dream. Picnics in a field of wildflowers on a sunny spring day, stargazing at night from a blanket nest in the back of a pickup truck he borrowed from one of Nobara’s relatives, watching fireworks on a balmy, clear summer night. Every romantic fantasy you ever had, he fulfilled, just by listening to you ramble about yourself.

Which is why you wanted so desperately to return the favor, and take him on his dream date. But there was one little problem. Actually, one looming, mortifying, mountain sized problem: you had no idea what his dream date would even look like. For weeks you pondered, agonizing over whether or not to straight up ask him, ruining the surprise and admitting you’re a terrible significant other in the process. No. You couldn’t ask him. So you did the next best thing, which is why you were currently treating his best friend to coffee.

“So uh, not that I don’t appreciate it or anything, but may I ask why you suddenly insisted on buying me coffee?”

Too nervous to meet Yuuta’s piercing blue-gray eyes, you stared daggers into your innocent chai latte.

“This is actually super embarrassing, but would you mind if I asked you for some advice?”

“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but go ahead.”

Starting off, you told him about what a thoughtful and sweet boyfriend Toge is, before moving on to explain your dilemma, asking him for his help.

“And it’s not like I haven’t had a ton of ideas! It’s more like, none of them feel right, and I want this to be perfect.” You finish your explanation, looking at Yuuta hopefully. “So, I was hoping that as his best friend, you might have some suggestions?”

“Actually, I do.” He leans forward a bit, in a conspiratory manner. “Not a lot of people know this about him, so I’m not surprised you don’t, but you can’t tell him I told you, deal?”

You nod, willing to agree to pretty much anything at this point.

“He’s like, obsessed with anything ocean related. I mean, he’s a total geek about it. He’s got tons of facts about sea creatures memorized, and even has this pair of pajama pants with little jellyfish on them. So I’d take him to the aquarium if I were you. Before the two of you started dating, he used to drag me there every other weekend.”

You sat back in your seat, stunned. How did you not know this about him? In a week or so the two of you will have been dating for a year! Smiling, at Yuuta, you return to the campus and thank him profusely for his insight before returning to your room and pulling up the local aquarium’s website. You had a date to plan.

A little over a week later, your one year anniversary had arrived and you were ready. You had told your boyfriend to keep his schedule open because you had a surprise planned for him, so when you were ready with the tickets tucked securely in your bag, you told your boyfriend to meet you at the school gates.

When you arrived, he was already there, and you took a moment to appreciate how attractive he was in his casual clothes. He was wearing a black long sleeved shirt with a baggy white t-shirt over it, his black cargo pants mostly covering his battered converse. Looking up from his phone he waved at you grinning. Running up to him, you flung your arms around his neck, feeling his chest rumble with laughter as he caught you.

“Konbu!” He greeted you, before pulling out his phone and typing something.

You look really nice today :)

“Thanks Toge!! I like your outfit too! It looks very comfortable.” You rub your hands up and down his sleeves for emphasis. “Now let's go!”

You grab his hand, and drag him off to the bus stop, ignoring his protests and questions regarding your date, simply telling him it’s a surprise for a reason.

After a short bus ride filled with mock bickering and laughter, you pull him off at your stop and wait for him to realize where you are.

The aquarium?? He waves his phone in your face, looking at you questioningly. How did you know?

You wink at him. “I have my ways. Now, do you want to go in, or not?”

His eyes widen, and he nods in excitement as he grabs your hand and tugs you along. After giving the lady at the booth your tickets, you let him take charge, as he clearly was well acquainted with the place. Pulling you along, he chattered away excitedly via his phone, spewing random facts left and right.

For example at the shark exhibit:

Did you know that sharks are covered with little teeth called dermal denticles?? That’s why their skin feels like sandpaper!

He pressed his hand to the glass separating him from the shark with excitement in his eyes, as if he were imagining what it would feel like to pet one. You watched him, fascinated with this new side of him you were discovering.

At the octopus tank:

Did you know that having sex gives male octopi dementia? Imagine if humans were like that, it’d be hysterical

You shake your head as he giggles to himself, and let him guide you to the next exhibit.

Finally, the two of you take a break, buying lunch and sitting on a bench to eat. You observe the happiness on his face as he uses his fries to draw in his ketchup, positive the aquarium was the right choice. Sending Yuuta a silent thank you, you begin eating your own lunch.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, leaning against each other as you eat before you speak.

“It’s really cool that you know so much about the ocean and sea creatures, and it’s adorable how excited you get when you see them, but…I don’t exactly know how to say this, but why sea creatures? What got you so into them?”

Thoughtfully, Inumaki takes another bite of his sandwich before setting it down and grabbing his phone after wiping his hands. He types for a few minutes, pausing occasionally to delete a sentence and rewrite it. After what feels like forever, he scrolls back to the top, reads what he wrote, and hands you the phone.

I guess it’s probably because of my cursed technique. There’s not really much sound underwater, you know, but all of these creatures can still communicate. Like, did you know that lobsters pee out of their eyes, and that they pee on each other to communicate? Sure, it’s gross, and I can’t just go around peeing on people if I want to tell them something, but somehow it made me feel less alone. So every time I was frustrated or annoyed, because I couldn't speak, I went and learned something about sea creatures instead of feeling sorry for myself.

As you read, your heart hurt for him, but at the same time you were glad that he had found an outlet for his negative feelings. Handing him the phone back, you pulled him into a hug.

“I think it’s great that you found such a positive way of coping when you felt insecure, but I’m sorry you ever felt that way. I wish you had told me about it sooner, and I wish I had taken you to the aquarium before this.”

He pulled away, and you didn’t need anything typed out to read the vulnerability in his eyes. “I don’t think you’re weird for loving sea creatures at all, and I don’t care that you can’t talk. I understand what matters, so you don’t need to use your words. And, if you’re okay with it, I would love to keep coming back here so you can teach me more about sea creatures. I want to know all sides of you, Toge. There’s not a single part of you I don’t love. So, let’s come back next weekend, what do you say?”

He nodded, and pulled you back into a hug. Nestling into his arms, you soaked up his warmth, feeling his love in his embrace. Because that was enough for the two of you to communicate.

All you needed was each other.

#lee's brain writes #end of 2023 collab #inumaki x reader #toge x reader #inumaki toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #fluff

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caraphernellie · 4 months

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cowboy like me // e.w. [chapter two]

summary: a modern day princess living under outdated royal protocol in which your own existence is forbidden. in a typical state visit to strengthen your country's relations with the united states, you find it harder than ever to keep your sexuality secret when you meet the president's daughter, ellie williams, and sparks fly.

an: hello guyzzz it took me ages to get off my ass and write this chapter. um i dont think i like this. as always i am very unhappy with my own writing i wish i could just take ideas directly from my head and show u guys because i feel like my writing has not lived up to that. this chapter is a lot shorter than i wantedddd and idk it feels rushed but likeee??? idk this is more to move the plot along. the juicier (angst) stuff happens next chapter tho

wc: 1.5k masterlist

cw: being closeted, having a beard/merkin, rejecting a man lmfao, being publicly embarrassed, kinda angsty? not much ellie, more focused on reader this chapter! however ellie's kind of an asshole! she's privileged as hell

cameras are on you at all times in public. so there’s no room to risk exposing yourself. no room to hold hands, or for a tantalising exchange of words into each other’s ear, or for kisses.

what the public can pick up on is at the very least a very tight knit friendship. the kind of friendship that allows you to feel like being yourself for once. they’re seeing more of your personality than ever, with ellie’s constant need to make you giggle in that way you always do. even if it’s unintentional, and she’s making a fool of herself, it’s her favourite thing to hear, therefore the public embarrassment becomes worth it.

like that time you were complaining to her about those scuffed up converse– how she could definitely afford nicer shoes, how they look out of place amidst her nicer, dry-cleaned suits, though her messier demeanour is just something very charming, very ellie. and it was the untied laces of those very converse sneakers that she tripped over and almost fell on her ass in front of everyone. you couldn’t control your laughter, snorting in a way in which royal management would scold for being ‘unladylike.’ for ellie, the embarrassment subsided immediately, blooming into a fondness in her heart instead as she guided you away from cameras with a hand on the small of your back.

☆☆☆

in that very same office you had your first kiss, you wake weeks later in a frenzy when the president barges in. scrambling to get up, off of ellie who sleeps like the dead, and calm the beating of your heart.

but you aren’t met with judgement, only his chuckling face having assessed the scene. ellie stirring awake, and you quickly standing. both fully dressed, no reason to assume anything happened.

“sorry to wake you,” president williams smirks, straightening down his tie. “couldn’t find either of you.”

it’s something everyone’s grown used to now. ellie taking you for random escapades that stresses the secret service when they realise they’ve lost you. but this was no random escapade. this was a late night guitar lesson that ended with you cuddling on the couch until sleep consumed you.

“oh, i see,” you murmur, clearing your throat and attempting polite conversation to dull the nervous thoughts in your mind. hoping to whatever’s above that people haven’t picked up on the blossoming romance between you and ellie. “we were up late last night. i’ll admit your daughter makes a comfortable pillow.”

president williams, much like said daughter who is grumbling beside you, seems to find humour in anything. he’s a more pleasant man than one would expect with the power he has. your comment leaves him chuckling again, but again you fear the worst. maybe he’s only laughing because he’s picking up on your feelings. “well, i’m glad to hear that, your highness. however i have come to tell you the king and queen have requested to speak with you.”

shit.

“oh!” you nod, smile reaching your lips. overthinking everything possible– what if it’s about ellie? what if they know? what if it’s something simple and i’m freaking out over nothing? is it obvious that i’m freaking out? what if i just look guilty about something? it feels pathetic the way you start trembling as you stand there. “thank you for telling me, i’ll get ready for the day and go speak with them as soon as possible.”

☆☆☆

it was almost worse than you imagined.

“we can’t let the public keep thinking this, do you understand?” your mother asks. “it’s not that there would be anything wrong with it, but it’s so controversial that this could very well damage our reputation.”

it’s sickening. nausea swirling your stomach, as if you’re rocking on a boat in a wild tide. you almost feel like you’re going to start sweating bullets soon.

“to clarify, there’s nothing wrong with it if the rumours are true,” the king repeats, looking at you so intently you feel like shrinking. “is it tr–”

“absolutely not,” you say quickly. “no, that would be weird. ellie is my friend, the closest friend i’ve made in a while. it’s not like that.”

quick to lie, eager to defend yourself. this feels easier than just coming out.

“alright,” your mother nods. “but we still have to do something about this. something subtle. of course it won’t be a real relationship, but we’ve had to organise a boyfriend as advised by the public relations officers. public dates, public appearances, but you won’t need anything further than that.”

and there’s no choice but to accept.

☆☆☆

you wish sometimes that ellie knew how to take things seriously because she bursts out laughing the minute you tell her you’ve got a date with your shiny new pr boyfriend tomorrow morning.

but it’s the way you aren’t laughing with her that has her sobering up instantly, brows furrowing.

“a…. pr boyfriend?” she murmurs, leaning back in her chair. ever so casual. the manspread, the arm resting around the back of the chair. her life seems simpler. she’s never had need to worry about this. “why?”

“well, apparently some people online are saying they think there’s something going on between us.”

“there is.”

“i– yes there is, but–” you look away, making a few frustrated gestures with your hands before turning back to ellie. “i told you. there is no royal protocol for a gay princess. people can’t be thinking this.”

“what makes people think there’s something going on?” ellie asks, raising an eyebrow. “it’s not like we go out kissing and fucking in public.”

if only she could take something seriously for once, this conversation would be easier to have.

“well apparently we’re just… i don’t know. i saw people saying it’s because you’re too handsy or whatever and i guess because you’re publicly out it just… makes people think things.”

“aw, well… that’s not your fault if people think that. rumours happen all the time, shouldn’t your family be used to this?”

“the rumours aren’t usually like this though,” you reply, legs bouncing, hands clasped together. “we’re big news, you know, and something like being gay is a huge controversy, it’s not like we can control how people will react. it– it could damage my reputation.”

ellie looks all but empathetic. if anything she’s blank. she doesn’t get it. “it’s not that bad. your sex life shouldn’t concern people.”

“but it does, that’s the thing,” you insist. “and as first in line, too. it’s not even clear if non-biological children would be accepted as an heir. there would be much discussion about if i could have children and what would happen there. and the people who are just blatantly homophobic would have a lot to say about my family. there’s no way of knowing what people will do.”

“okay, well,” ellie looks away for a moment. she doesn’t get it. she didn’t even have to come out– she had her first girlfriend as a teen and that was that. nobody had cared, and with her father’s liberal government nobody had much to say. “i have to sit and watch this weirdo who wants fifteen seconds of fame take you on the dates i want to take you on?”

you feel like banging your head into the wall. to tell the truth that would solve all your problems. no pr boyfriend, no more not being understood, no more having to hide yourself. “it will only be a few dates probably. just to cool things off, you know? you and i can still hang out too.”

“i still think this is bullshit,” ellie grunts, waving her hand. “so what, even if you don’t want to, you still have to?”

ellie observes you, your lips pursed into a thin line as you look around, staying silent. she moves, rising to her feet and holding out a hand.

“i’m mad for you, baby,” she murmurs. “come here.”

☆☆☆

worst day ever. ellie’s jealous. and so you were late to your first public date with the new boyfriend– she had insisted on kindly picking your dress out and of course having a quick fuck before sending you on your way with a pat on the ass. one disaster. the second disaster was the date itself.

third disaster was currently the public amusement that said disastrous date is arousing. why? the boy tried to kiss you. in public. and so clips are sent viral, of the way he leaned in, and you pushed him so gently with a hand on his chest and an awkward and polite laugh.

and in speaking of laughter, ellie found it as funny as the public did. in fact, she was the one who had shown you it. she spent all afternoon chuckling over the video and when you came back from the date, confused, she handed you her phone. and the sheer look of embarrassment on your face– the furrowed brows, the way your jaw dropped– it was all too funny for ellie. she just about lost it.

but just as humiliating as it can be when the whole world is laughing at you, you could also laugh at yourself.

only thing is the fourth disaster that had struck.

packing bags, spending one last night with ellie before being ushered home earlier than planned. see, with a date that was supposed to silence any rumour of your sexuality, rejecting the boy’s kiss is not the right move. now if anything those rumours had grown in absurdity and in popularity.

so your parents made the decision to leave the united states, head back to the palace, before any more speculation could be made. oh, and of course the boy was going to be sticking around longer, too.

tags: @dinasvampgfpgf @fadedin2uu @eurewilii @diddiqueen @machetegirl109 @craz1er4youu @divinediorss @onlinelesbo @thecowardwrites

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic #ellie williams x fem reader #tlou2 x reader #fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x yn #ellie x you #ellie x yn #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader

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matan4il · 1 year

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Buddie 613 meta

We now know that the man who risked himself to get Buck out of the line of fire during the shooting arc is Jeshan, which means ‘clear’ (if you’re interested, you can find more name meanings for 911 characters here). So let me just giggle for a second about the fact that 911 had once again reunited Buddie with a character who can be referred to as Captain Clear Me(h)ta. Coincidence? IDK. But I have to admit, it kinda made me reflect back and feel nostalgic. When I first started watching the show, I had no intention of writing meta for 911, but after going ballistic when 309 aired, I knew I would HAVE to use the s3 hiatus to write down all my thoughts about everything Buddie related so far. That’s what I did, I wrote and shared my baby, my first round of Buddie meta. That’s where it was supposed to end, but then people asked and encouraged me to write meta for the eps in 3b as they would air, too. I figured I could try, and that’s how my Buddie weekly meta posts were born. At the time, there was no one else writing proper weekly meta (I don’t mean a summary/review of the ep, or meta posts that stand on their own, but proper analysis on Buck, Eddie and those who matter to them, organized and serialized for each ep as it aired). And now, I’ve been writing them for almost 3.5 seasons. And I feel like they’ve inspired others to do the same. TBH, I can’t actually remember seeing weekly meta posts in other fandoms (maybe they exist and I just haven’t come across them, IDK). So I got all emotional, thinking about how these posts may be love notes to Buddie and the show, but most of all they’re a love letter to the wonderful people who have been supportive and encouraging, who’ve been reblogging the posts, who’ve been commenting on them and telling me that what I do makes a difference for them. Thank you so much, these posts wouldn’t exist without you. You have a much bigger impact on the fandom than you might have realized! So if Captain Mehta is indeed a nod to the meta, it’s a loving, appreciative nod that belongs to all of you. ~~

When Chim shows up to escort Hen to work, he ends up sitting down for a talk with Denny instead, and I really enjoyed this scene, it was lovely, but it also once again emphasized the difference between the firefam kids’ relationship with their parents’ colleagues and the r/s Buck and Chris have. Chim talks to Hen’s son when he happens to come across the kid, but he only sits down for a proper conversation because Denny implies Hen and Karen are up to something intimate, and Chim shouldn’t interrupt them just yet. Consider how different that is to how Buck intentionally looks to spend time with and dedicated to Chris! And then Chim is impressed by how smart Denny is. It’s cute, but it also reveals just how little they interact that this comes as a surprise to Chim. It’s so different to the intimate familiarity of a parent, which is what we know Buck has with Chris (and that Chris has with Buck, which can even be seen in the kid’s teasing, for example regarding the snoring in 414). ~~

You might have seen that, when the promo came out, I momentarily lost my sanity and posted this. I just couldn’t get over the fact that they actually had Eddie correct the chief on the duration of Buck’s death. It was such a spouse thing to do. It was a declaration about the anguish that each single second represented, when Eddie couldn’t breathe because Buck wasn’t. It was a confession of sorts, on how Eddie felt as he desperately NEEDED his husband to live (I’m not even joking when I ascribe him this title, Eddie said with his whole chest, “THAT IS MY IDIOT HUSBAND THAT I HAD TO WATCH DIE FOR THREE MINUTES AND SEVENTEEN SECONDS AND I WILL NEVER FORGET ANY OF THOSE SECONDS, NOR LET ANYONE ELSE DO THAT”). It was a glimpse into how time must have moved differently for him as each second etched itself forever into Eddie’s mind. And yes, it’s a clear parallel to 413, when we witness time slowing down for Eddie. And I mentioned in my post that in both scenarios, Buck is just out of his reach, so close, but simply not close enough. In one case, this forced Eddie to believe he must now accept his own death. In the other, he couldn’t accept the possibility that Buck would die, so he just fought harder, and if he couldn’t save Buck with one course of action, he tried another, Eddie just had to keep going, 'coz the idea of those three minutes and seventeen seconds turning into an eternity? Unacceptable. ~~

But notice in my unhinged post from that day, I used the word ‘counting.’ Eddie counted the seconds, and this is revealed to us at a poker game where Buck is counting the cards. I already noticed that when we saw the promo, but this connection was reinforced in the ep itself when Chief Williams vocalized what Buck was doing. The thing about counting is that it’s reserved for what matters, what’s crucial. Buck is counting the cards in order to win, and he wants to win because it matters to Eddie. Buck wasn’t the one who initiated the search for a poker game where he could use his newfound skills, Eddie was the one to take that initiative. And he could bring Buck along without telling him where they’re going (I would normally scream for a whole separate paragraph just about Eddie telling Buck to dress nice and there being no need for any further explanation or prompting, but we were so well fed, I’ll have to scream about it into my fist for just one sentence) 'coz Eddie was so sure his husband would go along with whatever crazy scheme he’d come up with. And he was right, even though Buck didn’t think it would end well, he still went along with what his husband wanted. Please let me reiterate: Buck’s counting cards because Eddie is so important to him, and Eddie was counting the seconds because Buck’s his vital sign. ~~

Another thing to keep in mind about the poker game is that the only other time we’ve seen Buck playing poker was in 312. In that ep, Eddie was off to meet Christopher’s school teachers (leading to his eventual lackluster r/s with Ana), so having a free evening, Buck spends it with Maddie, Chim and Josh (and is told he unequivocally sucks at Poker). Jokes were made about setting Josh and Buck up, and it was implied whatever Buck’s sexuality was, that was not the reason why Maddie abstained from making the match. What I find interesting is seeing how far our boys have come! In that ep, they were operating separately, and it led them down the wrong paths.

In this ep, Buck and Eddie were inseparable both as a couple (even sharing the winnings from Buck’s new talent, because what don’t these two share? And I was particularly chewing glass when Chief Williams asks Buck how he wanted HIS winnings, but instead of answering her, he looks at his husband. THEY ARE SO FREAKING MARRIED), and as a family unit with Chris (which is maybe a good moment to point out that all of the romantic couples were paired off in 613, and so were Buddie! Now, one could argue that Buck and Eddie were paired off because, well... who else is left for them to hang out with? But 312 is a reminder that when the show wants to, it can push the main cast and minor characters into the same orbit, so it still didn’t HAVE to pair Buck and Eddie off here. It chose to. On top of that, by showing them with Chris as well, 911 reminded us they’re far more bonded than just two best bros hanging out together ‘coz none of their other friends are single). In short, during 312, Buck lost and Eddie was about to be lost on a detour in his romantic journey. In 613, they ARE a family, they work as one throughout the ep, not just in parts of it, and they’re both winning. ~~

Something that gets to me is that when I first shared the BTS pic of Buddie at the poker game, it was clear that Eddie was just bursting with self confidence. He looked like he would be the star of that game. But when we got the promo, we discovered that it was actually going to be Buck who would shine that night. So what makes me slightly froth at the mouth is that all of that sexy confidence we picked up on in the photo? It was real. We weren’t wrong. It just wasn’t confidence that Eddie had in himself, it’s confidence he has in Buck. All of his swagger? Is a reflection of how much he believes and enjoys seeing his husband be a star. I am gonna need 3-6 working weeks at least to recover from knowing this. ~~

Speaking of things that destroyed me forever, everything about the Buckley-Diaz family in this ep falls into that category. I mean, not only did we once again have incredibly domestic scenes, we had one that was very reminiscent of the lasagna one in 601 (Eddie with Chris at the table, Buck fussing around them only to join in once he brings along something to be consumed), reinforcing that this is THEIR NORM, we also had Eddie and Chris being so cute and supportive when it comes to Buck’s new ability (Chris calls him a superhero, Eddie goes along with it, and when Buck’s upset he didn’t get a better superpower, naming some he would have liked to have, Eddie comforts him by saying those other options sound horrible).

And then to top it all off, we had Buck and Chris cooking together. Bobby’s been explicitly acknowledged as basically being Buck’s dad by both of them, and we know Bobby’s been teaching Buck how to cook. Now we get Buck doing the same with Chris, clearly marking them as father and son, especially since this is done with just the two of them, this special time that’s allocated just to their bond together. Eddie is not needed as a middleman. I know that this isn’t news, but every single time the show reinforces this truth, that Buck is Christopher’s other dad, that their bond is that deep, I gain 10 years, so I have to mention it. ~~

For 613, I made my weekly gifset about Buck and answers, but I’d actually like to elaborate on what you see there. In 602, at the happiness center call, we see Buck looking to Lev in search for his own answers on what his happiness looks like. When he still can’t find any, he turns to Hen, because she always has them. Along this season, that’s been his theme. He’s trying to figure out what he wants in order to be happy, which is connected to the couch theme we’ve all been screaming about since 601 (and especially after he fell asleep on Eddie’s in 612). In 613, Buck suddenly finds that he’s the guy with the answers and he likes it. But has he really got them? Buck says these words to Eddie and Chris, and in addition to that, while he utters them, he’s literally captured in the same frame together with Eddie. But it’s also essential that we heard why Chris can’t just be given the answers. It’s in order to learn, Eddie tells him. That’s exactly what Buck has to do, he has to find his answers in order to learn from the search process. He’s not just there yet, but the framing of the whole scene coupled with the ongoing couch theme is very loud. ~~

What gets me maybe most of all in a whole ep of REALLY GOOD BUDDIE CONTENT, is the way the whole thing wraps up. The storyline on Buck’s new abilities doesn’t end with any commentary on those or on his recovery process. His last scene in this ep is the one with Chris. It follows directly the one with Hen and Karen, a scene which reminds us that we’re never surprised at either woman spending solo time with and caring about Denny, even though neither is biologically related to him, because they ARE BOTH his parents. In the same way, it’s only natural that we see Buck spending alone time with Chris, without Eddie around. It is so meaningful that the last shot of Buck in this ep is not about his story line at all, and neither his abilities, nor having died for several minutes is the point. Instead, the last, and therefore most significant shot of Buck in this very Buddie domestic ep, is him smiling at their son. I feel like that says everything about his trajectory.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ Thank you so much for reading and for any reblog, like, comment or supportive tag! Also, HUGE thank you to @whosoldherout. On top of real life stuff, she makes her own amazing gifs AND helps make these posts so much better. She’s the one with the real superpowers!

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 spoilers #evanbuckleyedit #eddiediazedit #christopher diaz #wm #911edit #buddie gifs #buddieedit #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

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