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kiwanopie · 3 months

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A Lucky Find.

Pure luck, isn’t it? (Geto Suguru x fem!sorcerer!Reader)

cw: yandere if you squint. mention of misogyny and inappropriate work place relationships, graphic descriptions of curses and body horror, death by mutilation involving a curse (Not you), mention of religion, only specifics about reader is that she’s visibly very attractive and may have long hair (no descriptors though, it could be a lace) Suguru is out of his mind. You will not be called a monkey in this one.

wc: 3.9k

You’re not a very talkative assistant.

Granted sometimes you’re inclined to wonder if talking would’ve made so much of a difference to the position you’ve been put in, but you’ve never been a particularly choosy assistant either. You’re great at handling quick business, the calls your boss can’t be bothered to take - studious in your evening planning and you can quick work a coffee run like nobody's business. — You don’t complain about the thin heels they put you in, or the pencil skirts. Mired businessmen with filthy smirks and wondering eyes, or the routine baby talk you get from your degenerate boss. You don’t blink an eye at it. - You sit when you’re told to sit and bark when Mr. Minoru decides to hold that pretty little bone over your head.

“You could use a bonus, huh?”

Today it’s a back rub.

You’re silent as your nimble fingers start to press little groves in his upper back, impassive when he groans. Mr. Minoru, your boss, is a very rich man. He’s the successor of a retired tycoon who was once the successor of another and so forth. He’s an amalgamation of power and fortune and a small legion of nepotism babies that regularly walk in through those mahogany doors just ahead of his desk. An investor, you think. Most conversations he has are about money and the best way to double it; fewer are the ones where he’s actually taking the time out of his schedule to distribute it.

It’s all elite talk. Big men following big men following a perv who believes he’s god. Long outstretched legs that extend as he relaxes himself in his seat and hopes that the movement is enough to encourage you to start on his shoulders.

You like to think you got this job out of pure luck. Met the right man at the right time and stumbled over the deal of a lifetime all for the small cost of a little bit of your dignity. — Not like it was much of a trade from your part time job busing tables at that high-end restaurant. Being yelled at by bratty celebrities at a fraction of the price and coming home smelling reminiscent of a meat locker. Now you’re standing on the top floor of a penthouse suite. Smelling of expensive perfume that your boss totally didn’t break worker/boss relation code for and looking down at the entirety of Tokyo from its bay windows.

Pure luck.

The creature hooked to the upper side of his shoulder unfastens its teeth with a firm graze of your fingers. The steam it emits as it fizzles away is sour.

Mr. Minoru has a pension for starting fights with the wrong people, it seems. With bitter people - scornful people. People who hate him and can’t do anything about it, other than wish him harm or hex him in some way. — Worst are the people who don’t hate him, who envy him. Step into his office with painted smiles and clenched teeth. Who curse his name the moment they leave and leave you to deal with these little “bugs.”

Your nose twitches as its rotten smell encombers. For a moment your pretty face is twisted up in a scowl.

The massages started from an offhand graze of your fingers during a dinner at your old job. Pretty little waitress bending over him in that little work dress and running your finger down his felted coat. You apologize for your familiarity, someone must’ve spilled something on his jacket. ~ But the weight on his back is gone from just that little touch and now he’s offering you a job. You don’t regularly make a habit of helping those you’ve already deemed “afflicted.” But the fucker making goo trails on his back at the time was just disgusting enough to hinder your train of thought, and there’s no way you could’ve gone through your shift without reviling every time you passed his table.

So, now you’re his assistant - and today it’s just a back rub. Thankfully not a request to play with his hair and try not to cringe at the way he shutters from it. A subtle pat on the cheek for his good luck kiss, or a request to sit on his lap while he tells you a story he doesn’t care if you’re listening to. Because you’re quiet.

His not talkative, non-fussy, no complaints assistant.

Like always he fills the empty air in place of your silence. “Ah. By the way, princess. We’ve got a guest coming around after lunch. A real traditional fella. So, we’ll need to be on our best behavior,”

“Apparently he’s got some sort of business opportunity for me in exchange for a few investments,” He sighs when your fingers dip a little under his collar. “Says that in his big fuckin’ haori. Probably cost a few thousand bucks,”

Mr. Minoru shifts his shoulders under your firm touches. “To be completely honest, I don’t really know about it aside from the gag of seeing him in person again. Guy has this weird energy about himself that gives me the creeps. — Says he’s avant-garde. — I just think he’s a weird fuckin’ guy.”

“But,” The exhale he lets out is tempered and whisky tinted, clears out the fresh space in his chest that usually frees up when you’ve got your hands on him. “My old man likes ‘em. Says he’d be good for my health if I kept him around. At the very least build some sorta relationship with him.”

“Too bad my health’s in tip-top shape! Eh, doll-baby?” Minoru twists his head to flash you an expensive smile. Faintly defined cheekbones turning rosy when you return it like you know you’re supposed to. “Got my little guru at my side!”

And your simper, although gentle, is forced. Distantly you wonder if you’re the reason these bugs have become so habitual.

——-

This man is very ill.

Though he walks in with his head held high and a particular spring in his step, your diagnosis is that he must be terminal. He must be diseased and irremediable. In a constant state of agony and so stricken with unwellness that he can’t even think straight. You’ve seen your fair share of “bugs” and rabid disfigured animals that grow out of their hosts like fungus. Some that trail behind like lost children with broken crackling legs - a stench that only accompanies the open wounds whose maggots reach out so helplessly. Disturbing things. For all of it you’ve seen, you’re lucky to say that those cases are few and far in between.

But this,

It has many hands and many faces.

Each accompanied by its own set of teeth. Curling lips that stutter as they rise, etched in lipstick and gum; you find mint leaves hidden in the valley of its tongue, coiling as it softly sings. Watching from afar as it hobbles on its haunches like a drunken man, or of fawn newly grazed. It is steady - and constantly moving. It buzzes like a million bees and yet the man standing next to it is seemingly unaffected.

And so are you.

Your gentility becomes you as you politely bow for the man who you’ve so gracefully led to Mr. Minoru’s office. A practiced curtsy is usually enough to get your usual guests commenting under their nose at your bosses taste in assistant’s, but this man is quiet as he walks past you. So above your head that it almost feels like he doesn’t even know you exist. And that feeling is… off putting to say the least.

You close the door behind him as your boss starts on introductions.

“Ah, so you’ve met my beautiful assistant!” He reaches out his hand. “Minoru. Nice to meet you.”

The genuinity in the man’s smile fastens his eyes into slits as he steps forward to return the shake. “Geto, likewise.”

“Geto, huh? I heard the old man sent you for an investment proposition. My guess is it’s something… traditional?” Minoru gestures toward his garbs.

He’s somewhat clinical in his attempt to look lighthearted, but the sigh he blows out feels trusting. “So this isn’t selling “contemporary” huh?”

Minoru laughs and the thing beside him whimpers.

Your fingers twitch against your work skirt.

You’re a distant shadow lingering behind the conversing men as you step to your post on the far side of the office wall, heels clicking quietly when you bend to fix yourself adjacent to Mr. Minoru’s desk. — You’re not expected to listen much to the conversation, or even understand the matters on which they talk about. Just straighten your back when your boss snaps his fingers and follow obediently when he coos an order.

But even if that weren’t the case, you’d say it’d be hard to pay any attention to anything other than whatever the fuck that is hunched beside the man standing just a few feet away. Singing quietly under its breath and repeating the tune like a prayer. Fearful, shaken, pleaful, dread inducing; overlapping in its many mouths. Your fingernails quietly scrape against each other in your attempt to remain neutral but from a keen eye you’re jarred. Disquietingly moving your eyes from the two men still talking adjacent from you and then it again.

It’s looking at you.

You force down a swallow when Minoru calls your name.

“Quiet thing, isn’t she?” Your boss comments amidst the conversation as you approach them. “Could almost forget she’s here if it weren’t for the eyecandy,”

You smile at him like he’s flattering you but it’s muscle memory. “Sir?”

“Gather up those papers from your desk over there, sweetpea. And hand it to the nice man.”

You almost don’t even wanna turn your back on it.

But against your own anxieties you do as you're told. Even with your nerves frayed as they are. You keep your posture as you hastily skirt to your desk and back across the room again. Nimble, slightly shaken fingers lowering to place it in Geto-san’s hand but he doesn’t acknowledge you even when you smile. Vacant eyes. Bored of you already. —- You don’t know if you should feel more offended or alarmed. But in your curtsy before backing away you decide to split the difference and go for disturbed.

Avant-garde. This guy just gives you the fuckin’ creeps.

He works in health, apparently. From what you’ve gathered in the continuing conversation, he’s a spiritual man who offers health by spiritual means. It’s not a very groundbreaking admission, especially from a man in traditional garb, but he assures that his practices have long surpassed ground theory and have been proven to guarantee actual results. From refractory diseases, mental illness, visible injury; his methods could completely eradicate the need for traditional medicine and take the health industry by storm.

But money is a long factor, longer in the doubtful and non-spiritual. “Non-worthy.” It sounds pointed the way he slips that in, but your red flags aren’t shared with your less than convinced boss.

“Spiritual healing sounds great and all, Geto buddy. But you’re directing services to a pretty biased market.” Minoru crosses one of his legs over the other from his perched position against his desk. “Even with the facts, the money’s in objectivity. You’d get more bang for your buck just saying any Yamada worth his salt can walk in and get rid a’ his sniffles for the right price. - Religion ‘ll just turn people off.”

Geto smiles patiently. “Ah, Minoru-san, we’re not religion based. Religion promotes powerlessness. Our services come from practical people.”

You watch as the creature messily swivels on its crooked legs when he invades its space by leaning back a little. “But to insert certain biases kind of sweetens the deal, doesn’t it? People like things that make them feel special. Even the most useless people should wanna prove themselves in some way, right?”

What a crooked way of thinking.

At your quiet displeasure the mass behind Geto wheezes painfully, wincing when you lock eyes with it. Its song pitches and warbles, chops a little like it’s weeping; but even in its effort to resume its discontent is palpable.

You could almost feel acknowledged by it. By its wandering eyes and its tightened misshapen shoulders. Almost as off put as you are from its spot in the middle of the room. The more you look at it, the more it starts to evoke pity. Even in its unsightliness, it looks misplaced and afraid. - Its song breaks like a cry for mercy and the closer you look at it the more recognizable its purpose becomes.

There are knots in its balmy skin so engorged they bleed and tear. Fabric mincing over fictional scabbing and prayer beads hanging out of its gashes. Every twitch it makes reverberates ricey out of rhythm beats akin to maracas and its song, as out of key as it is, is reverential. Powerlessness. Anodyne through faith. You barely find yourself pitying the afflictions of affected people but in the context of this conversation - it’s watering eyes; you feel empathetic toward this thing and by extension Geto-san.

You assume something awful must’ve started that way of thinking.

Should you even stick your neck out for this guy? You’ve dealt with bigger, more violent ones in any case. But this creature seems peaceful. Following faithfully on its hosts haunches as it waits patiently beside him. You’ll have to be fast and unflashy about it, hopefully the stench from that thing won’t make you hurl on impulse. But if not out of mercy, it would be nice to have it out of your line of vision.

Your eyes cross it again. It’s many eyes well with anguish. You decide that at your next opportunity you’ll get rid of it promptly.

As luck would have it Mr. Minoru’s personal phone rings.

He’s quick in his apologies as he fishes it out of his pocket. Passing a smile to Geto as he quickly bows and makes the few long strides it takes to step out of the door and into the hallway, and a few short snaps in your direction as he points you to the concessionaires reserved for his clients near the door.

You’re practiced as you dip for the little fridge on your left, carefully sliding out a glassed bottle of water from the door and a plastic bag of sliced apples.

“Would you like a snack while you wait, Geto-san?”

He ignores you.

Through a quietly exasperated sigh does he slide his phone out of his hakama and pointedly decide not to acknowledge your awkward stance at the far end of the room. — You know he ignores you because the silence that otherwise permeates the spaciousness of your boss's suite is momentarily disrupted by the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls; followed again by that frigid silence.

This is the guy you’re trying to help.

Even so, your embarrassment is brushed aside in favor of making your way to the small coffee table between him and the other leather seat parallel to his. Thin pencil skirt riding a little as you take wide steps to the little spot that separates him from the empty seat - and you from the thin sliver of carpet standing between he and the now quivering mass.

You bend to place the treats gingerly beside him.

And when you rise you reach for it.

There are practiced fingers circling around your wrist before you can even touch it.

Your fear is potent enough to turn its broken hums into racking sobs as you freeze in his sudden grip. Firmly clasped onto you as he raises your arm over your head and forces you to jolt back with a stuttered breath. Faint greyed markings on the palm of your hand fade but they’re caught under his watchful eye, and through your shock you watch his expression switch.

From confusion, to intrigue, to pure excitement.

Your shock teeters on horror as his pupils dilate. “Now, just what were those pretty fingers planning on doing?”

He seems to revel at the sheer bewilderment that colors in your pretty face from where you nervously stare up at him. Doe eyes lit up by headlights, and the radiative heat of suddenly being this close to his predatory gaze. You stammer. “Wh-? Y-You know it’s-“

“Brought it with me, didn’t I?” He speaks lowly as he circles his thumb over your wrist. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern though, sweetheart.”

You shrink. The absurdity of intentionally carrying a burden like this is as mind boggling as it is chilling. Dread inducing, even. With the kind of bad juju that thing emits there’s no other reason to purposefully let it fester beside you than for motives deeply depraved. Deeply disturbed. The way the air around him murkens and electrifies, and a glint in his eye that makes you feel like prey. — He’s looking at you like you’re dinner right now. And something about that feels trillions of times more frightening than any typical rubbernecking.

After being treated like a ghost by this man this whole time. Now he’s looking at you like you’re a slab of meat spread out for him. Succulent and tenderized, pliant under his fingers. Your soft eyes are rigid with fear as his other hand reaches for you blithely, larger fingers dipping in your loose hair and scooping it gently forward. You glance at it from the corner of your eye.

Smoke curls around his palm.

You suppress with a quiet intake of breath.

Geto-san’s cheeks pinken as he gleefully smiles, emboldened by a genuine tinge of ardor. You do your best not to flinch but it’s futile, his chilled fingers consolingly caress your face as he tuts; and gazes at you like he’s committing you to memory.

“Be patient for me, yeah? I’ll be done in a minute.”

You can’t even begin to guess what that means.

But before you can inquire he’s shushing you with a finger up to his lips. Playfully shooing you away as Mr. Minoru’s footsteps patter closer, and you clumsily re-fit yourself into your professional mask.

“Sorry ‘bout that, pal. Forgot about another meeting I was supposed to attend a little earlier,” He pockets his phone. “No one’s fault.”

He leans against the cliff of his desk where Geto-san’s planted himself again. Minoru glances at the unopened bag of apple slices. “Ah, _____, baby. You were supposed to hand him the good stuff.”

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“No worries.” Geto laughs airily. “How could anything look nearly as appetizing when you’ve got an assistant like that walking around?”

Your ears burn as Mr. Minoru snorts in kind. “Yeah, fair enough,”

He rolls up his sleeves. “A’right, princess. How bout you hop on over to my lounge and break open the good brandy for my guest and I. Bring us the crystal set. Can you do that?”

—-

The decanter in your hand falls with a dull thump.

There’s no… logical explanation for what you’re looking at right now — Who you’re looking at right now. In any other circumstance deep purples would be expected. Blotched boysenberries and flossy reds, dotted with strained blues. You’d expect tearing - bleeding, audible ginger snaps of tendons and extended bone. A scream even, no matter how silent; all are logically expected. Death is logically expected.

But seeing your boss stretched out like leather, not a full five minutes after leaving him alone with this man, is not.

Your eyes frantically skirt over your boss's heaving corpse from your exposed position at his closing entrance. Watching in repulsed terror as his skin tears and bruises, familiar prayer beads falling out of his flesh like stuffing. - His eyes are rolled agonizingly into the back of his head, mouth opened in a scream. His blood sizzles against the maple of his desk and you can do little but stare in horror.

You flinch as the mainline on his desk starts to go off but you’re no sooner cringing at the way his arm breaks just to reach for it. Bloody fingers pushing the receiver, and cheeks tearing just to respond.

His unchanged voice somehow makes it all the more horrifying. “Hi, Souza. Thanks for getting back to me,”

“Yeah, do me a favor,” You back into the door. “Route about ten million to Geto-san’s organization under investment. And be a dear and sign the invoice for me, would ya?”

You’re gonna be sick.

“So, you’re out of a job now, huh?” You nearly yelp.

Geto-san’s standing just over you. “I’ve got a pretty similar position opened up,” He says casually. “‘Wanna work for me?”

You can barely push out a word. Which, kind man that he is, helps you out by deciding for you. “Ah, Great! I can break you in on Sunday. Here’s my card.”

He smiles kindly as you hesitantly pluck the laminated card from his fingers. Looking at you under mirthful eyes that chill more than they comfort.

“If you’re worried about pay, I can give you double of whatever that monkey gave you. Maybe a little extra if you’re as good as he says you are.”

But before you can recoil at the thought of being stuck under the same kind of boss, with the extra caveat of being a psychopath; he adds with a hint of challenge. “That is, if you can get rid of our friend for us.”

You follow his glance to the creature wearing your boss like a hand puppet.

Do you even have a choice?

Geto-san watches with a keen eye as you warily approach the blinking, bleeding corpse behind your late boss’s desk. Heels clicking slowly against his wooden floors, skin prickling at the thought of even getting close to this thing let alone touch it. There’s a smell that you notice as you move closer. A rotten, discrepant smell that pushes as much as it pulls. Aging, airless skin, barreling toward cell death; only marginally slowed by the alkaline smell of embalming fluid. Too old. Too sour.

But there’s something about it that almost — Hypnotizes. Evokes a kind of nostalgia that almost completely disarms you. Church pews and goatskin, leather hardbacks under frilly gloves; and those damn prayer beads. You can almost hear your grandmother’s voice. The minty sweet taste of stale candies tinted by the perfume in her purse. ~ Watching worship but not understanding it. A contact high of conviction. Your boss’s blood spills and it means something sacred, something reverent. And the closer you get, the more that sacrifice feels for the better.

You flicker a glance in Geto-san’s direction. This guy had this shit on standby?

It’s clammy when your fingers finally graze its skin. Sweaty and twitching, like every touch is a pinched nerve; like every stroke stimulates. There’s movement under the first layer, a hissing under the second. It’s mania seeps off of it in droves and the more you linger on it, the more your stomach twists.

You draw back your hand and rub over the difference in texture.

The room is temporarily endowed with smoke at the snap of your fingers.

They’re both gone when the vapor quickly dissipates, blood formerly staining expensive maple now replaced with its originally polished shine. As well as his chair, his area rug, and any other evidence that could connote what truly horrific fate the man in question had suffered in this very room.

Which is enough to send Geto-san into an ecstatic flurry of applause. “H-Holy shit. Where have you been all my life?”

He’s more focused on the way the weight in your lips shift rather than that being because of a frown. Regardless, you’re still a picture despite it. “You’re gonna fit nicely. — My address is on the card. Come by nine? I’ll have breakfast ready by then.”

He turns with a relaxed lilt toward the exit. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun.”

The door clicks as the lock disengages.

“Don’t make me come looking for you.”

reblogs are appreciated <3

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natalievoncatte · 4 months

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“We should play truth or dare.”

Kara nearly choked on her wine when she realized what Lena had said. That sounded like an amazingly terrible and yet incredibly intriguing idea. She turned to say something when she caught Alex giving her a look that could shatter diamonds. Kara downed the last of her wine and said,

“It’s getting pretty late, Lena.”

“You’re no fun,” Lena said, poking Kara in the center of her chest for emphasis.

Kara was glad she was sober. It wasn’t entirely true that she was immune to alcohol- it just took about a gallon of grain alcohol for her to feel a mild buzz for a few minutes, then have to run to the bathroom as her superhuman metabolism almost instantly forced it out of her system. Alex had “helped” her discover that once back in high school, and they both ended up grounded for a month.

“Come on, Kara. This way I can find out where you’re always running off to. In vino, veritas.”

Kara looked around and saw her own mirrored panic rising in the others. Kelly looked on from the kitchen, the only other member of their little group who was oblivious to the sheer weight of what Lena just said. Nia looked even more green than she had a moment earlier, and Alex was giving Kara a warning look, shaking her head behind Lena.

Brainy, for his part, remained mellow, sipping his grape soda. He was the designated driver for the night.

“Yeah, we need to go,” Nia threw in. “It’s been fun but I have an early day tomorrow.”

“It’s Saturday,” Lena protested, but it came out shaturday.

“I have to get up for yoga,” said Nia.

“We’re all in the same class on Thursday,” said Lena.

“Um, I’m getting ready for the yoga championships. Extra classes.”

Lena raised an arched brow.

Alex cut in, suddenly. “Kelly babe, you ready?”

“If you are. I was going to see if Kara needs help with the dishes.”

“I’m fine,” Kara called out, hearing the alarm in her own voice.

“Lena, are you riding with us?”

“Nah,” said Lena. “I’ll stay.”

Alex cleared her throat.

“How will you get home? You’re sauced, Miss Luthor.”

Lena grinned and looked over at Kara. “I’ll just stay over. I do it all the time.”

Alex’s brows climbed up and she turned to Kara with an incredulous expression.

“When did that start?”

“It’s no big deal. I live on the other side of town and Kara has a nice couch.”

Alex seemed to relax a little. Kara’s heart was trying to slam through her ribs.

“Okay.”

They all bundled out of the apartment, with Alex promising to text and Brainy swearing to let Kara know they were all home safe.

Kara closed the door behind them and turned around. Lena was still curled up on the couch, swirling the last of her wine in the bottom of the glass. She was in leggings and a big, baggy sweater that had been pulled to one side so hard that it almost bared her shoulder. Her hair was down and had gone wavy, falling over one half of her face, making her mysterious and distant. She downed the last swig of wine and put the glass down.

“We could still play truth or dare.”

“Lena,” said Kara. “You’re really drunk.”

“So are you.”

Kara swallowed, hard, feeling the bitter bile of her lies at the back of her throat. She wasn’t drunk at all. She was barely even tired; the city had been miraculously calm all summer.

“Which is it, Kara? Truth or dare.”

“Neither,” said Kara. “I think what you need is some sleep.”

Lena rested her glass on the coffee table, in the middle of a game of Monopoly that they’d all been too drunk to finish.

(Except Kara. Lena would have won, because Kara always agreed to whatever trade Lena offered, because saying no to Lena was harder than lifting a submarine over her head)

Kara leaned back against the kitchen counter coolly, trying not to betray her emotions. That turned into a job for Supergirl as Lena rose from the sofa with seductive grace, stalking across the loft with feline intensity. She was at once cuddly and soft in her sweater and a seductive vamp with her long inky locks pulled over one shoulder and the other bare.

Kara’s eyes locked on the bared skin, soft and creamy and crying out for a warm touch, then pulled away sharply as she willed herself not to ogle her best friend. It was a losing battle. Every step brought Kara back to the sway of her hips or the way her leggings gripped her thighs or the soft promise of her curves beneath that sweater.

Kara was starting to think she might be gay.

Lena stepped into her space. With both of them barefoot, Kara had a notable height advantage. Lena reduced it by rising on her tiptoes and threw her arms around Kara’s neck.

Kara had few weaknesses. Kryptonite. Magic. If kept up long enough, oxygen deprivation.

Lena Luthor.

She was so close that Kara could taste her breath, the fruity tang of the wine and the soft, inviting scent of Lena beneath her perfume. She was wearing a soft pink lip gloss that drew Kara to stare at her lips. She could almost feel them without touching. Her blue-green eyes were dark and sultry, and she leaned in on Kara, pressing the soft weight of her breasts against her chest.

Kara’s pulse went like a hummingbird and her knees went wobbly, but she simply ignored gravity.

Kara had other advantages. She could see the heat bloom on her skin and feel the change in he skin conductivity, and hear her heart racing. Lena’s pulse nearly matched her own.

Before she knew what she was doing, Kara had her hands resting on Lena’s sides just above her hips, moving on pure instinct. All she’d have to do was dip her head a fraction and she’d be kissing her. She was so close.

“Please pick dare,” Lena whispered.

It too every fiber of her being not to say “dare,” but she held her tongue. She also held Lena.

“I can’t. You’re drunk and I’m not.”

“Hi drunk, I’m dad.”

“Lena! This is serious!”

“Oh, you’re serious. I thought you were daddy.”

“Lena!”

“I dare you to…”

Kara pressed her finger to Lena’s lips.

“Lena, please listen. You’re drunk. I’m not. If you still want to do… whatever this is… in the morning, I… I want that. But not like this.”

Lena frowned and Kara thought she might die of sheer sorrow right there.

“Okay. Should I go home?”

“No, absolutely not. Just… do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll explain in the morning. I promise I’ll,” she swallowed hard, choking down the fear. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Okay.”

Kara sighed and scooped Lena up, easily taking her weight in her arms. Lena yelped and hugged tight around her, clinging close and pressing cheek to cheek. Kara wanted to kiss her so bad that it ached in her chest, throbbed in her veins, but she didn’t. She carried her to the couch.

“Wait,” Lena said. “Can’t I sleep in the bed with you? I promise I won’t try anything.”

Kara nodded, mentally wincing. She carried Lena around to the bed and laid her down, drawing the blankets over her and settling her head on the pillow.

She had a choice to make her. The right thing to do, the honorable and chivalrous thing, would be to go sleep on the couch. She knew that, but the very idea of it was anathema to her.

To her credit, she stepped out of the bedroom to change and she put on pajama bottoms.

Kara took the far side of the bed, staring straight up. She didn’t expect to sleep a wink, but somehow she drifted off.

When she woke up, there was a weight on her. She looked down and found Lena pillowed on her chest. With a sigh, Kara rolled onto her side and drew Lena close, sheltering the other woman in her arms. In sleep she looked peaceful, so free of the worries and fears and anxieties that dogged her when she was awake.

Kara knew she should stop stroking Lena’s hair, knew she should let go of her, but the soft, hypnotic beat of Lena’s heart was nothing she could escape. She held Lena a little tighter, her own heart fluttering when Lena murmured her name on her sleep and hugged her back.

They woke up like that, Lena tucked in close under Kara’s chin. Lena was already awake when Kara woke up.

“Hi,” said Lena.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

“Head hurts.”

“I’ll get you something,” Kara said, starting to rise.

“Oh no you don’t,” said Lena, tugging her back down. “You said you were going to tell me everything.”

Kara froze.

“How much of last night do you remember?”

“I remember the part where I tried to climb you like a tree and you bridal-carried me to bed and tucked me in,” said Lena. “And the part where you started hugging me like a teddy bear.”

“You started that.”

Lena snorted. “Why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Like I said, you were drunk, and I can’t… not until I… you don’t know everything.”

Lena sighed, looking away, and then looked up.

“So, truth then. Are you Supergirl?”

Kara flinched back, momentarily struck numb. If she was asking that, it meant she knew the answer.

Lena stared at her hopefully, almost pleadingly, her big pretty eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She bit her lip and Kara melted, feeling herself turn to goo.

“Yes.”

Lena let out a long sigh of blessed relief, closing her eyes.

“Lena?”

“It’s my turn. I pick truth.”

“Okay, um,” said Kara, “why did you ask me why I didn’t kiss you?”

Lena rolled her eyes. “Because you’ve been staring at me like I’m a bowl of potstickers for years, and I was wondering if you were ever going to make a move.”

“Why would I look at you like you’re food?”

“I meant you were looking at me like I’m something you want to eat, Kara.”

“I’m not that kind of alien.”

Lena tensed, breathing sharply as she looked stunned and a little hurt.

“Wait,” Kara blurted, “oh Rao that was a joke, I didn’t mean I don’t want to… I really do want… I just , I’m… I don’t know what to say now.”

“I’m in love with you,” Lena sighed.

Kara froze. “You… you’re… with me… IIloveyoutoo.”

The mashed-together declaration had barely escaped her lips when Lena lunged closer and kissed her. From there it was pure chaos. Lena pulled and Kara followed, rapidly ending up on top of her as she shimmied out of last night’s outfit.

Kara pulled back from a soul-burning kiss as she felt the heat of Lena’s bare skin under her hands.

“Wait,” she said. “If I picked truth last night, what would you have asked?”

Lena smirked.

“Why do you stare at my chest all the time?”

Kara laughed, snorting a little.

“I’ll show you.”

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #love confessions #identity reveal #softcorp #drunk Lena #chivalrous Kara #Kara Danvers is a knight in shining armor #Kara respects consent #Lena has a naughty side #cuddlecorp

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vivwritesfics · 6 months

Text

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty - Playing Happy Families

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

2.2K words

Series Masterlist

“Please, Carlos, I didn’t kill your father,” said Oscar. He still cowered behind Y/N, still used her to protect him from the wrath of her husband.

Coward, thought Carlos as he stared at him, his expression filled with fury.

Oscar was scared. Of course he was. He was merely a mouse facing down a lion. “What were you doing in my house, then?” Carlos asked, once again attempting to pull his wife closer. But Y/N stayed where she was. She wasn’t budging.

“I was doing work for Mark!”

“What sort of work?” Now, don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t entertaining this idea of Oscar on a mission for Webber. He couldn’t have been, not when everybody (including Webber) was compromised.

Oscar opened and closed his mouth several times. He couldn’t speak, not when he was oh so afraid. “Carlos, let him speak,” Y/N said, finally taking a step closer to her husband. She placed her hand on his chest and Carlos visibly deflated. For the first time in their marriage, Y/N felt like she had power.

When he did, Y/N turned to Oscar. “Go ahead.”

Oscar sucked in a deep breath. “Mark had me out renewing contracts for the weapons trade.”

“Why? Why did he send you in person?”

“Because I needed a distraction.”

“From?” Carlos’s questions came in quick succession.

Y/N looked between the two of them. It was like a game of tennis, the two of going back and forth.

But then Oscar looked straight at Y/N. It was clear, to Carlos, at least. And it infuriated him. He would have stood up, threatened Oscar with his fist, but Y/N still had a hold of him. And he didn’t want to do anything to upset his wife, his love.

“I believe him,” she said as she cupped his cheek. “I really don’t think he’d do anything to hurt us.”

But Carlos couldn’t accept that, not with the footage he had seen. He knew what his wife was saying, that Oscar wouldn’t have broken into their house or threaten them in any way while she was there. That Oscar cared for her too much.

Carlos let out a sigh. “Hand over any weapons you have,” he said and Oscar lifted up his suit jacket, revealing that he had no weapons on him. An uneasy feeling bubbled up in his stomach. In the video he had watched, Carlos had clearly seen a gun in Oscars hands.

“Why did I see you on my security footage?”

Oscar shut his eyes. He knew this was coming, and he knew Carlos wasn’t going to believe anything he had to say, but he said it anyway. “I watched the guys that broke into your house drive away. If I wasn’t on my own, I would have tried to stop them, but I had to get into the house, had to make sure Y/N was okay.” He struggled to look Carlos in the eye. “I saw Sainz on the ground and I had to check he was okay. Because, if someone can get to a head of family, then none of us are safe.”

Suddenly, Carlos fell against the wall. “Carlos!” Y/N gasped as he held onto her, pulling her with him. He looked at his wife, his pretty little wife. The woman that had been by his side through all of it. Not once had she complained as he kept her in this little cabin.

He reached towards her, pushing her hair away from her face. “Mi amor,” he said as he breathed out. “He died trying to protect us.”

Y/N threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. Her head was against his chest as Carlos held her tight, more for himself than her.

It seemed, for just a moment, Carlos had forgotten that Oscar was there with them. Holding the back of Y/N’s head, he stared at the Australian man across from them. “I will tell Webber that I have you. We’ll decide what to do with you after that,” he said and let go of his wife, walking over to the laptop on the desk.

“I’ll make something to eat,” Y/N said and walked into the kitchen. Oscar followed her.

“You can take a shower, if you’d like to,” she offered as she turned on the stove, Oscar sitting at the table behind her.

He shook his head. “Later,” he said and shrugged off his suit jacket. “I… is Carlos going to kill me?”

Without meaning to, Y/N snorted. She let a laugh and shook her head. “No, Osc. I won’t let him,” she said as she filled the pot with pasta. Too much for three people, but Oscar had said he hadn’t eaten in a while. He was bound to be hungry.

“What happened between you and Carlos?” He asked and she turned towards him, confusion written on her face. “Last time I saw you, you hated him.”

Oh, that was right. She had, hadn’t she? She had hated him. God, that felt like so long ago, now. She couldn’t imagine hating him now. “I don’t know,” she answered as she began cutting up chicken and adding it to a pan. “Being trapped alone with someone really changes things,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, Oscar. I don’t love him, but I could. I think I’m falling for him.”

“If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you,” said Oscar, incredibly mature of a twenty-two-year-old.

From the doorway, Carlos cleared his throat. Y/N and Oscar both snapped their attention towards him, waiting for him to speak. “I have informed Webber that you have made it to my safehouse,” he said as he leaned against the doorframe. “We have come to an agreement that if you anything goes wrong, Webber will dispose of your family.”

Oscar gulped. “What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t threaten my wife in any way, and you’ll be fine,” he said and walked back towards the laptop.

“See, you’ll be fine,” said Y/N as she plated everything up.

***

Their already odd situation seemed to be even weirder, now. At first, Carlos wanted to force Oscar to sleep on the floor, treating him like a disease-ridden dog.

But Y/N didn’t allow that. She got whatever cushions and pillows she could and set up a makeshift bed on the kitchen floor for Oscar. She had given him a blanket and made sure he had something to drink before she and Carlos went to bed.

For the first week, Carlos insisted on locking the door through to the kitchen. He still didn’t completely trust Oscar, no matter what Y/N had said and no matter the threat that was looming over him. He kept his gun under his pillow, ready to stride whenever necessary.

But, as time went on, Carlos began trusting him more and more. He listened as Oscar and Y/N sat together in the kitchen, chatting around the kitchen table. He watched how Oscar was with his wife, sweet and caring but not in a way that would have him concerned.

It was like they were playing happy families, the boys getting along for the sake of Y/N.

After two and a half weeks, Carlos had to make a supply run. They’d managed to ration out the food for as long as possible, but they were running low, extremely low.

“Does anybody need anything?” He asked as he walked into the kitchen, looking between the two of them.

Y/N looked at Oscar. She stood from the kitchen table and walked over to her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on her tiptoes as she whispered something in his ear.

Carlos let out a gasp. He couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her and spinning her around. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her, closing his eyes as she leaned into him. “I’ll get some,” she said and kissed her again.

“Just don’t get your hopes up,” Y/N replied as she walked him towards the door of the cabin.

“I won’t,” Carlos said and kissed her again before he left.

After what she had told him, things were beginning to make sense for Carlos. His wife had woken up in the early hours of every morning to throw up. Carlos was concerned, but she was always feeling better as the day went on, telling him that it was just nerves.

It was hard not to get his hopes up, but this was what Carlos had wanted since he was twenty. It was a long time coming; the timing couldn’t have been more right. But it was also terrible, terrible timing.

He knew what he had to do, knew he had to get her back into the safety of their house as quickly as possible. But, was the house really safe anymore?

The footage of the people that had broken into their home had circulated through the chat forum that had the other heads of families. They’d learnt it was the same group of people that had attacked them. They’d all taken the same thing: paperwork. Details of deals and crimes that they had committed. Their trading routes and what they traded, the money they made. Details of people in other families or people they were going to have killed.

If the authorities, those more powerful than the people the heads of family paid off, got a hold of that paperwork, they were fucked, royally, royally fucked. But Carlos couldn’t think about that right now. He was going to be a dad!

Maybe, he was maybe going to be a dad. He couldn’t let himself get his hopes up.

In the town, Carlos bought what food they would need. He wasn’t concentrating much as he grabbed what they needed. His fathers house still needed to be checked, but Carlos imagined the scene there would have been much the same as his house.

They needed to move, to find somewhere new to live. Somewhere with a lot more security, somewhere nobody would find them. Somewhere they could raise a child.

Carlos grabbed a three boxes of pregnancy tests. He got a proper pillow for Oscar and headed home.

It was strange, being outside of the cabin. Carlos had never felt so naked, so unprotected before. He didn’t feel vulnerable, per say. Not like somebody was watching him as he made his way back to the cabin.

When he walked in, Y/N greeted him immediately, jumping up from the kitchen table to run into his arms. “Did you get it?” She asked and Carlos nodded his head. He reached into the bag and pulled out three boxes of pregnancy tests. He placed them in her arms and watched as she ran into the bathroom.

In just a few minutes, he’d find out whether he was a father or not. Carlos busied himself with putting away the things he had gotten from the shops. He gave Oscar the pillow he had bought for him and waited in the kitchen for Y/N to emerge from the bathroom.

Carlos and Oscar hadn’t talked without Y/N there, not since the night of their wedding. “So,” Carlos started as he looked at the younger man.

“So,” Oscar replied, patting his thighs. The clothes he was wearing belonged to Carlos, but there wasn’t anything else for him to wear.

“When this is all over, would you go back to Norris or Webber?” Carlos asked as he got himself something to drink.

Oscar shrugged his shoulders. “Webber, I guess. He’s my boss, so, unless he sends me somewhere else, I’ll be with him,” he said, now scratching at his legs. He looked at Carlos, properly looking into his eyes. “I really am sorry about your father,” he said, and Carlos swallowed the lump in his throat. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

Nodding his head, Carlos took a sip of his drink. Before he could reply with anything, Y/N ran into the room, at least three pregnancy tests in her hands. She held them up to Carlos, her expression not giving anything away.

Carlos took one of the pregnancy tests from her hands. Two little lines sat on the stick. With a shaking hand, he took another stick, this one also having two little lines. He grabbed a hold of the last one, also having two little lines.

He said nothing as he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up. “We’re having a baby!” Y/N cheered as she wrapped her legs around Carlos’s waist. “We’re actually having a baby.” She was quieter this time, resting her forehead against his.

Carlos kissed her. It was long and slow and passionate. He refused to pull away until his lungs were crying out for air. “We’re having a baby,” he echoed as he walked out of the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind him. “We’re actually having a baby.”

He was so fucking happy.

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wield-the-mighty-pen · 8 months

Text

Can we all just think about what this day has been for Adrien?

Imagine you wake up for the day, excited to have your bi-yearly scheduled lunch with your father, only to be told he has canceled on you once again and when you finally get the courage to speak your mind and talk to him, he interrupts you and tells you that you will be moving away from your home and beloved friends (with a person you hate) for an indefinite period of time. Imagine then, that you head to school, where you share a tender moment with someone who is definitely not just a friend and they give you the advice to talk to your father.

You then get home from school, where you are ambushed by your manipulative cousin, who is offering to trade places with you and help you out with your problem, only to discover he is scheming again. Before you can do anything about that, you have to go save the world with your superhero partner, who you've been feeling a little neglected by lately and for some reason, all those negative feelings seem to be manifesting right now during the fight. She then call in some reinforcements, and this new guy, that she keeps fawning over is giving you bad vibes (it's definitely not just jealously guys).

You save the day and head home, this time with the intent of actually confronting your father, only to be stopped by your superhero partner, who for some reason is looking for your civilian counterpart. She claims that she handed you a miraculous and you very quickly realize that your scheming and manipulative cousin, was scheming and manipulative.

You watch as your partner has a panic attack and do your best to calm her down and help her retain some miraculous. You hear her muffled cries through the door and when you go to check on her, she's gone. You find out that the villain you fight has got a hold of the miraculous and you go to find your partner.

You find her and manager to comfort her, all the while sharing a not-at-all platonic moment with her, and you prepare to fight the villain who has re-monikered himself and given himself new powers.

You see the rabbit miraculous and what looks like a future version of yourself show up and you realize that you will have to go through time in a time battle to reclaim the rabbit miraculous. You are given a rabbit miraculous to use and your very concept of space and time are altered as a result. After a lengthy, convoluted battle, you say goodbye to a good friend and decide to head to London to interrogate your aunt. The interrogation leading nowhere, you decide to head home only to be immediately called by your partner asking you to head to the wax museum and pose like a statue (which totally brings back some memories for you...). You finally get rid of that piece of paper in your bell and manage to capture the villain who you've been fighting for so long.

Except, the plan fails. The villain manages to get away with all of the Kwamis and now you have a weight on your conscious. You have just used against a person the power you vowed to use only for good. You are reminded of the significant power that you wield.

You once more arrive home and turn on the TV to try and distract yourself. Only to see that there's once more a problem that needs your help. You get there and see two people who have similar powers to you and your partner, but there's something wrong. Your partner asserts that they aren't akumatized, but you are wary. You learn that they are a version of you from a different universe, or at least a version of your power. You once more, are reminded the of ultimate destruction you have at your fingertips.

You come to understand that these doubles are in fact your partner and yourself from another universe. A universe, where the villain you are fighting is now your ally. Once assuring your friends are safe, you go after your double to fight them. When you meet to speak to them person to person and talk through your shared trauma. You learn that he too lost his precious mother, but he has no one to help him through it. You relive that loss together. You talk him down from making the wish that a part of you wants to make every single day. You begin to realize the version of you isn't bad, he's just hurting.

After ensuring the safety of other universes and giving a hopeful send of to your doubles, you finally, finally this time head home for the night.

Surveying around your room, you are reminded of the morning that feels like forever ago. You remember what your cousin said, what your good friend said. Emboldened by her words, you decide it's time to face your father. You go to his office where he's working and utter the words you never thought you would: I don't want to be a model anymore

Your father passively assents to this, and finally finally you are free.

You are filled with gratitude and this odd warmth that you don't spend too much time analyzing. You need to do something to thank the person who's advice got you what you so desperately wanted. You decide to call her up and thank her face-to-face.

You call her on the phone, which gets answered by her best friend, and then finally her and you give her your most sincere expression of gratitude, thanking her for everything she has done for you this past year.

As the warmth inside of your chest grows, you tell her you will do your best to pay it. You end the phone call with a smile on your face and a happy sigh.

Finally, with thoughts of your dear friend roaming around your mind, you fall asleep exhausted but happy.

This was all one day.

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tonyspank · 7 months

Text

"CHEF'S HERE..."

Summary: "Chefs here..." a voice murmurs as you burst through the kitchen doors

Warnings: nothing really, chef y/n is giving gordon ramsay a bit

Words: 800+

A/N: hi everyone! been a while eh

"Chefs here..." a voice murmurs as you burst through the kitchen doors.

You cast a quick peek around. A dozen cooks and servers are preparing for the evening rush, and the air is humid and damp from the hot burners.

"Where's Evan?" You inquire, scouring the room for a sight of his familiar face among the pandemonium. The other cooks trade looks, displaying a mix of perplexity and fear.

Ava gestures at Evan, who is frozen in his trackers, as if he has just seen a ghost. His eyes widen, and he stares at you with his mouth open. You can watch the color drain from Evan's face as he cautiously approaches you, stuttering over his words.

Everyone in the room goes silent as they watch this unexpected meeting occur.

You rush over to him and take him by the elbow, forcing him to look at his plate, which had been returned due to the lobster being undercooked.

"What is this?" you question, pointing at the lobster. Evan moves his focus from you to the plate, his face shifting from panic to perplexity.

Everyone in the room is waiting for an explanation while he stammers, attempting to find the appropriate words to explain the situation.

"Uhhhh," Evan says, searching the kitchen for help.

"It's lobster, idiot," you snarl. "How long have you been here?" "Why do I have to deal with your messes all the time?"

Evan's face flushes with shame. "I... uh..."

"Don't say anything!" You cut him off with a snap.

He looks at you, perplexed.

"I break my fucking foot working my ass off in this restaurant, and the one day I need you to be on your A-game, of course you disappoint." Evan averts his gaze, his shoulders hunching.

Holding the lobster tail in front of his face, you seize it. "Apologize."

Evan's lips move in and out of uncertainty over how to reply. You snarl, "I said, apologize."

He glances at the lobster for a moment, then back at you, his expression bewildered.

"I'm... sorry?"

You turn to face the rest of the kitchen and aggressively toss the lobster in the garbage. "Someone, get me a fucking apron... now!"

You swiftly tie an apron around your waist after a server approaches you with one. Realizing that the other employees have seen your outburst, you observe them exchanging anxious glances as you make ready to return to work.

Taking a deep breath, you attempt to gather yourself and concentrate on the task at hand.

"Alright, everyone, listen up! It's time to turn this day around!" You say this, clapping your hands together.

The kitchen is silent, and the staff stands still, looking between you and Evan.

"Now," you point at the food on the stove, "someone give me a lobster; I'll prepare it myself."

No one moves.

"Well?" You demand, "We don't have all night! The dining room is packed, and we have tables that are waiting!"

At this point, the staff jumps into action, and the kitchen comes alive.

"Yes, Chef," someone mutters and hands you a plate with a lobster tail.

Within a couple of minutes, you're walking back out of the kitchen, your hair tied up and an apron wrapped around your waist, walking in the direction of the table that had originally ordered the lobster.

"Hi there, I'm so sorry about the delay. Can I offer you something on the house to compensate?" You ask, approaching the table, smiling apologetically, trying to mask the anger that is still coursing through you.

The brunette finally looks up, meeting your gaze. You immediately recognize those brown eyes.

"Y/N?" She asks, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Hey, Jenna." You say, letting out a small laugh. "What— what are you doing here? I thought you were in New York."

"Well, I wanted to surprise you." She laughs, shaking her head. "And what about you? I thought I told you to rest your foot."

You run a hand through your hair and mutter, "Baise-moi... (Fuck me...) Uh... it's a long story,"

With a lighthearted smile pulling at the corner of her lips, Jenna raises an eyebrow. Oh, gosh. She leans in closer and adds, "Well, I have all the time in the world to hear it."

You give your girlfriend a sidelong glance while sulking. "It's not that serious, baby. The boot helps a lot."

She sighs slightly and rolls her eyes. "You should be at home, resting."

"I'm fine." You sigh and cross your arms.

Jenna tilts her head, purses her lips, and raises her eyebrows.

"I swear, baby."

"Well, as much as I like the fact that you're here, I don't like the idea of you hurting yourself. Especially after how hard you worked."

You grin and nod slightly. "In any case, try the lobster. "Made by yours truly."

"Of course. Thank you, darling."

You nod and walk back to the kitchen, smiling at the sight of Jenna digging into the food you cooked.

"How'd it go?" Evan asks.

"It's my girlfriend," you tell him, untying the apron and setting it aside.

"What? The blonde one?"

"No, not the blonde one."

"The brunette one? Jenna Ortega?!"

You roll your eyes, grab your jacket and slip it on.

"Yeah, Evan, the brunette one," you say, pushing open the doors and making your way towards the exit.

"Oh."

#tonyspank #jenna ortega x reader #reader insert #jenna ortega #get me #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #wattpad #jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega fluff #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna x y/n

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aemondtargaryenonlyfans · 10 months

Text

OF DRAGONS AND WOLVES.

Daemon Targaryen x Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

You and your husband came to Dragonstone on behalf of your nephew Jacaerys, needing your help in the upcoming war of succession. However, you seem to be in need of something entirely different.

WORDS: 2.3 K

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle and niece), threesome (MMF), p in v, anal, double penetration, fingering, dry humping, breeding, size kink, profanity, jealousy, possessiveness, marking, reader is cregan’s wife, high valyrian

It was the raven from Dragonstone with desperate words written by no less than your nephew Jacaerys that had lured both you and your husband to the impressive castle on the eponymous island.

While you descended the sky with your green beast, still keeping up with the main column of your servants and maids, and most importantly your husband, the latter chose to accompany your entourage on horseback, never daring to step close enough to your dragon.

Regarding the reason for your visit, the position you currently were in was more than dangerous, as you had never meant to be pinned between the two men who held more than enough distaste against each other already.

In front of you knelt your husband, Cregan, the true wolf of the North, and behind you your uncle, Daemon, a hot-blooded dragon that rarely trusted anyone that didn’t share the blood of the dragon.

Daemon had walked in on you and Cregan, barely sharing more than some fervent kisses in the safety of your provided chambers, yet one or two daring–no, challenging–words of your husband had prompted the Targaryen to dispose any matters at hand and indulge in the pleasures you had offered your husband.

Back in King’s Landing, your uncle’s visits had always been the ones you had looked forward to most. With Rhaenyra’s departure to Dragonstone with her entourage, court grew more and more boresome, leaving you to the company of your half-siblings and the vipers of the Red Keep.

But Daemon’s visits always brought a certain tension with him, your encounters limited to longing stares, accidental touches and a lot of unsaid words, and seeing you more or less openly involved with your husband seemed to have snapped any last thread of his already thin resolve.

The little predicament you had found yourselves in didn’t seem to please your husband at all at first, always being quite possessive of you, but the more you seemed to relax in their proximity, so did he–not without making his claim on you obvious.

His lips mouthed along your jaw, and eventually settled in the curve of your shoulder, where his teeth sank into your flesh before his lips sucked a mark into your sensitive flesh. Your wincing caught the blonde’s attention, the scoff he released a stark contrast.

“Possessive much, pup?” Daemon mocked, and for a second you feared them trading insults at any given moment. Cregan, however, barely drew his head back to meet his counterpart’s lilac eyes, his tongue flicking over the burgeoning bruise while he did so, “Merely reminding her of her place–whose wife she is.”

Cregan’s gray eyes trailed over your form, watching the way you writhed in his arms the moment Daemon’s skilled fingers snaked around your front to slide between your parted legs, toying with the little bud at the apex of them. Now it was him mouthing along the other side of your neck, and you anticipated him to leave his own mark, though it seemed that something in Cregan’s threatening stare was enough to keep his longing for mischief at bay.

Perhaps he knew that one wrong step was putting an end to this whole thing straight away, and having lusted after you for years, your uncle was not eager to take the risk, not when his own wife hadn’t touched him in so, so long.

Daemon’s hand slid into your hair at the nape of your neck, fisting it rather roughly to force your head into his direction. Your lips melted together, and the kiss was nothing short of rough and needy. But you didn’t expect anything else. Daemon seemed as if he had to prove a point, and perhaps he had, but neither you nor Cregan reacted to it.

Yet that didn’t mean your husband was pleased by the sight of you leaning into the blonde, parting your lips slightly to allow his tongue to slide into your mouth, while his fingers rubbed your bud and never ceasing moans left your throat. Another thing Daemon didn’t dare to do was plunge his fingers into you, even though you wanted it so badly.

“Sagon iā sȳz riña syt īlva, kessa ao?” he panted against your lips with a smirk that just screamed of smugness, the High Valyrian toppling over them so effortlessly, it had you drooling. You nodded, your lust-blown eyes flickering between his lips and matching pair of purple eyes, seemingly not comprehending a single thing he said. Be a good girl for us, will you?

But you processed the dangerous growl that came from the wolf in front of you, and you knew better than to test his limits, and his patience. Cregan was a generous lover with very much patience and calmness, and when both things reached their end, it didn’t mean anything good.

“This cunt is mine to take and claim over and over again,” your husband warned, a sharpness to his tone that was a borderline threat. Daemon raised both his hands in defeat, muttering an ‘all yours’ at him, but instead of whining at the loss of stimulation of his fingers, you charged at your husband, wrapping both arms around his neck, and your lips meeting his in a fervent kiss. They spoke about you as if you weren‘t there, and that sent a thrill down your spine.

Not anticipating you to seize him, the big wolf wound his muscular arms around your middle, keeping you locked in place while one of his paws brushed from the small of your back down to your arse, slipping two thick digits into your cunt from behind without a warning and any preparations–not that you needed them, being wet enough to have them push in with ease.

You gasped against his lips at the sudden intrusion, the sound stifled by his tongue licking into your mouth and his arm around your waist tightening.

Behind you, you finally heard the husky groan of Daemon, indicating that he had fisted his hard cock and stroked himself to the sight of your small frame in the embrace of your bulky husband as he fucked you dumb with his fingers.

His solid member was nestled snugly between your bodies, and each time you rutted your hips against his hand, the friction it caused against his cock was enough to have him pull back to release grunts and groans.

“Ready for me?” the brunette asked softly, voice barely above a whisper, and you nodded once again.

“Use your words, byka perzys,” he said, and the usually smooth tongue was laced with a thick, northern accent. It was charming, and you remembered the evening you two basked in the warmth of the fireplace, lying on the ground merely wrapped in some furs, your legs intertwined, and his flaccid cock still nestled inside of your cunt. He had asked about your ancestors and the foreign tongue, and all but begged you to teach him some basics–the nickname being one of them. Little Flame.

You licked your lips, “I am ready.” If you weren’t so engrossed in the moment, in your husband’s gentleness, you would have heard the derogatory scoff your uncle released, seemingly unphased by your display of affection.

When your husband tried to move, you stopped him, catching both men’s attention. You looked between them, your eyes not knowing where to settle. “I… I want you… both,” you swallowed, and Daemon was sure he could spill himself right there and then. Even your husband was baffled by your request.

It was common for Cregan and you to use your other hole every now and then, mostly during your moon’s blood. It wasn’t that your husband was disgusted by your blood coating his member, he wasn’t, but you just did not enjoy it, always worrying about ruining the bed, and even getting embarrassed by it. So, you had suggested for him to try the other hole instead, and after a bit of persuading, he had complied.

Cregan lay back on the bed, and the only reason he withdrew his fingers from your womanhood was to wrap the used hand around his cock, using your arousal as slick to make it easier for you to take him. You had your hands braced on his broad chest, the dark curls of his chest hair peeking from between your fingers, and hovered your hips above him, until he aligned himself with your entrance.

You sank down on him, both moaning in unison, and Daemon watched in awe as your cunt enveloped Cregan, sucking him in to the hilt without moving. You were waiting for him. The Targaryen moved to kneel between Cregan’s parted legs, almost a bit too eager, pressing his cock against the crevice of your arse, rutting against it.

While Cregan’s palms slid around your body to cover the entirety of your arse, gently parting it to give Daemon the perfect view of your unused hole, the other man reached in front of you to drag his fingers through your mound, sliding them around the girth of Cregan’s cock to gather some of your slick. He coated his cock in it just like your husband had done before, and then spat into his palm to spread the liquid over your hole.

Daemon was eerily silent, too focused on the matter at hand, and only groaned in anticipation when his cock prodded against the rim of your hole. Angling your hips just slightly, you made it easier for him to push in, digging your hands into Cregan’s flesh the moment Daemon breached your hole.

The man beneath you murmured words of encouragement, something along the lines of ‘what a good girl’ and ‘taking both of us so well’ which made it easier for you to bear the intrusion.

It was overwhelming for you, especially when Daemon was sheathed inside of you completely, and both their thick cocks filled you to the brim. It had felt different in your thoughts, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either–you just weren’t sure how to move, or even if you were able to move at all.

When you clenched around both of them tightly, they sucked in a sharp breath at the same time, followed by the same, raspy groan, knowing all too well they were doomed to last no longer than two minutes with how tight you were wrapped around them. In any other setting, the similarity would have been amusing, if it wasn’t for you being impaled by them on both ends.

Both men seemed to notice your apprehension, and knew it was their turn to take over. Cregan moved first, bucking his hips into yours at a slow pace, and after two thrusts of him, Daemon joined, rutting into you. They plunged into you in a steady rhythm, allowing you to adjust to the sensations that overtook your body.

It felt as if every fiber of you was on fire, adding to the natural fire that flowed through your veins, and bringing you to a point you were certain you could never go back to only taking Cregan and not both at once.

The feeling of both men filling and stretching you in tandem rendered you a drooling mess, and no words were needed to be exchanged–except for their mutual praises.

Daemon wrapped his arm around your throat, choking you with his muscles, while his lips pressed against your temple, his hot and heavy breath lighting your skin on fire. The sweat that formed at his brow dripped onto your skin, but you couldn’t care less.

“I shall spill myself inside of you,” your uncle groaned against your skin, announcing his impending peak, and you nodded with your mouth agape, whimpering a pathetic ‘Y… Yes.’

This time around, Cregan didn’t seem to mind the proximity of you and Daemon, too lost in the sight of it all, and merely reaching to cup your bouncing breasts to squeeze them and tease your hardened buds.

You had trouble breathing, and that combined with the stinging pleasure of Cregan’s hands had you cresting through your peak, coming over you in an ambush.

Spasming around him, Daemon couldn’t hold himself back any longer with your peak driving him to his own, spilling his seed inside of you while Cregan held you up and raced to completion himself, finishing alongside your uncle.

The grip on your husband’s chest loosened with the weakening of your muscles, only supported by his paws on your hips.

But there wasn’t really any time for you to dwell in the bliss, not when Daemon pulled out of you mere moments after your peak subsided. Despite Cregan’s cock still inside of you, you felt rather empty, but weren’t able to move as you panted your exertion out.

The wolf craned his neck to look past you at Daemon, who was already clad in his breeches.

“Kostā umbagon,” you said and watched your uncle, raising your brow. You can stay.

Daemon slipped into his tunic and tilted his head to meet your eyes, a hint of mischief flickering in the purple before he nodded toward Cregan.

“Ao kostilus rual nyke naejot umbagon, yn ziry daoriot.” You might allow me to stay, but he does not.

You glanced at Cregan, which prompted the wolf to run his hands along your sides possessively, and Daemon scoffed. “Am I right?”

Knowing your husband had no further interest in sharing you, simply tolerating your uncle’s presence because you wanted it, you smiled tentatively, “Yes.”

Daemon crossed back to the bed and leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, to your dampened, silver hair, mostly to annoy Cregan one last time, but also because he had done so many times when you were younger, and because he wanted to.

“Stark,” he acknowledged, and Cregan bowed his head once without saying anything in return before Daemon left.

It was the gentle pinch of Cregan’s fingers on your hip that caught your attention again, and you nestled into your wolf’s embrace, head tucked under his chin, while his cock was buried inside of you, keeping his spent inside so perhaps it would finally bear fruit and give him the heir he had wanted all along.

General Taglist: @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year

Text

Bruce crashed to the ground.

The bright green portal that brought him here snapped shut above him leaving him stranded in an unknown location. He had just managed to stand up when he heard someone call out to him.

"Hey!" A boy with black hair and blue eyes came running up to him, "Are you okay?"

Bruce grunted, glaring at the small creature trailing behind the child through his cowl, "I'm fine. Where am I?"

"You're in Unova, smack dab inside the Pinwheel forest." The kid said, "What an unlucky place to land."

"Unlucky how?"

Aside from giving him a disapproving look, the child was unfazed by his tone. "The Pinwheel forest got its name because its a natural maze. The monsters here are weak but you might find yourself going in circles if you're not careful."

Batman thought for a moment, "monsters?"

The child smiled and Bruce thought he looked like his other children before the boy excitedly introduced his "partner pokemon": Aron

The Aron in question made happy little noises as it approached and nuzzled its metal face into the side of Batmans boot. Cute.

"Oh, by the way, my names Danny. Do you want me to take you to town? There's a professor there that you can talk to. She might not be able to help you get back to your home world but maybe she can find someone who can."

Batman narrowed his eyes at him, "How did you know I wasn't from this world. Thats not usually the first conclution people jump to."

For the first time since Danny had met the Batman he actually squirmed a bit. "Anyway, let's get started! It's a long trek to town!"

It took them about two days to get out of the forest. Danny had thankfully lent him use of his equipment and food. It was nice having a tent to sleep it when the rain hit on the first night, even if it was a little cramped. Aron curled up between them to soak up thier body heat like a housecat.

It was also a relief that Danny could cook, though Bruce had no idea where the child was storing all of this stuff.

Danny ran off into town, saying that people were going to ask a lot of questions if a guy dressed as a bat came strolling into town and if he was going to be staying in this world for a while it was probably best to get him some normal clothes.

Bruce reluctantly agreed and after telling him his sizes the kid ran off to the store, leaving Aron behind to "protect him". Bruce hated relying on a childs generosity to get by.

Soon enough the kid came back with an all black outfit, saying something about it suiting him. Bruce left to change and came back to Danny giving Aron and his other pokemon Staryu some Oran berries.

After that they finally set off to town.

The professor was nice, if infuriatingly calm about giving literal monsters to random children. The professor even offered Bruce a pokemon egg since he was probably going to be in this world a while.

Bruce accepted the gift, wondering what he was getting himself into when Danny got excited.

The child explained that he was a treasure hunter/explorer by trade that survived by finding things he could sell in shops but he wasn't a very strong trainer and had to be careful where he went due to the presence of powerful pokemon.

Danny then asked Bruce to travel with him to be his bodyguard.

Bruce was very displeased to discover people set thier kids loose into a monster infested world around the age of ten and horrified to know the actual survival rate of this stupidity.

Bruce agreed to protect him and got registered as a pokemon trainer and was given the egg and some pokeballs. Danny offered to teach him how to catch pokemon as Bruce planted a listening device somewhere.

They set off back into the pinwheel forest to catch Bruces first pokemon and to start thier journey.

Meanwhile, Dannys excited to travel with someone who seems like a proper dad.

It couldn't hurt to pretend, right?

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #bruce wayne #dc x dp #pokemon #dp x dc x pokemon #danny has an aron and a staryu #bonus points if Bruce somehow gets a fletchling cause he always gotta have a robin #and this is one damian isnt going to complain about #bruce gets pseudo reverse adopted and doesnt even realise it #danny wants a family #imagine bruces face when he learns Danny got dropped from a similar green portal in Johto

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imaginedanvrs · 2 months

Text

home, sweet home

masterlist

dark(?)carol danvers x reader

word count: 4.5k

summary: when carol is sent a gift she refuses to accept, she discovers just how much she's been seeking a companion

warnings: human trafficking, past conditioning, elements of pet play, soft carol turned kind of dark? it's not her fault you're so cute

“I’m gonna have to call you back, Fury,” Carol mumbled, hanging up the coms device before the director could object. She stared down the unexpected delivery for a few short moments, trying to assess its reliability. She didn’t often get deliveries sent to her ship and it was even less common for them to be safe, though the small holes placed in the top of the crate sparked her curiosity enough to overcome her caution.

The Captain hooked her fingers under one of the top edges of the crate and pulled the lid off in one fluid motion and raised her glowing fist to shine on whatever creature was inside, slightly alarmed to see the face that peered up at her. Carol was quick to pull two of the sides off and grab the blanket that was hanging on the nearest chair to pass to you, becoming more confused when you merely stared at her blankly as you hugged your knees.

“Um, do you…hi,” Carol greeted tentatively as she placed the spotted blue blanket down in front of you and kept her eyes level with your own, hoping you would cover your bare form. You blinked, staring back blankly at the blonde crouching before you and gripped your knees tighter until there were half moons indented despite your nails having been cut the day before. She noticed the anxious gesture and moved back to give you some space, only then noticing the note attached to one of the discarded crate sides.

A gift of gratitude, the people of Krylor. Carol reread the note several times, taking a few moments to realise what your presence on her ship meant. Of course, she had heard the rumours of the intergalactic trade of humans that were passed around the cosmos, but she had never found enough solid evidence to even begin to tackle the issue until you arrived on her doorstep. Clearly the people of Krylor had greatly misinterpreted the kind of hero that Carol was if they had thought you were an appropriate gift, sparking a deep anger inside the Captain at such an assumption.

She looked back at you and immediately softened her features upon seeing the clear fear in your wide eyes that watched her apprehensively. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured with a nervous smile, entirely unsure of how she was meant to deal with you. “Do you understand me?” She asked. You nodded. “Good, good…” she muttered. “You can come out of there if you want,” she offered, backing away again. You continued to watch her without moving a muscle. She nodded as she glanced around her ship for any clues as to what to do with you. She couldn’t keep you there, that much was clear. But where could you go?

Of what Carol had heard about the human trade, they all carried the brand symbol somewhere on their body which meant that the blonde had to be cautious where she sent you in case you ended up back in the wrong hands. Of all the people Carol could trust with you, none of them were better suited to take care of you. Her allies bases were too hectic to place you in, the most neutering planets wouldn’t be able to protect you if needed and other heroes stuck to themselves as much as she did. That only left her with New Asgard, though Carol had sent so many refugees Valkyrie's way that she was hesitant to give her more to deal with. It was easier to do when they were together and Carol could be around more to help, but since the mutual break up Carol's distance meant she couldn’t always aid her people.

The Captain glanced back at you mid pace where you were still glued to the spot and redirected herself to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and placed it down next to the crate. You didn’t acknowledge it. “You should drink something. I’m sure it’s been a long journey,” Carol winced. She pushed the glass closer and stepped away. “Drink,” she insisted, which seemed to click something in your mind. You reached forward, but instead of holding the glass, you made your hand into a scoop and reached inside to gather some water in your hand and bring it up to your mouth.

“No, you-” Carol went to interject, startling you enough to shrink back into your crate. “Sorry,” she muttered, wondering if it would be best just to leave you for a while. You were clearly scared and confused and understandably didn’t trust the person you had been gifted to. Carol just wanted to try and communicate some reassurance to you, but she supposed that if you weren’t going to be with her for very long then there wasn’t much point in putting you through the additional stress it would take to get there. But sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind.

Taking a hold of the back of the crate, Carol pulled it against her as she walked backwards through the small ship and felt you stumble back inside. She brought you over to the corner between her sleeping area and the control panel and slotted the crate as far back as she could before grabbing a new blanket and hanging it over the front as a makeshift curtain, leaving a small gap in the side for you to peer through. It was the best she could do to make you feel safe for the time being. She placed the water back outside and put together a sandwich for you to eat, unsure of what you were used to and hoping that you would be okay with what she had.

“Okay, you can handle this,” Carol said to herself, a habit she had developed ever since spending the majority of her time alone with Goose who wasn’t big on conversation. She gathered that you weren't either.

“Crap,” she muttered when she saw her route to Earth was going to take a few days and that she would have to stop on the way for fuel too. She glanced back and noticed that the spotted blanket had vanished only to realise you had pulled it in. Carol smiled at that, hoping it gave you some kind of comfort, and looked around for some clothes for you to wear. She settled on a sweatshirt, some underwear and sweatpants and placed them outside your crate with the announcement that they were there. She wasn’t entirely sure you would take them, but a hand crept out from behind the curtain and dragged them inside.

Carol figured it was best to leave you to it for a while and turned back to her control panels that monitored any unusual activities in the galaxies closest. There was always work to be done, even if she did have a guest in her home. It was common for the blonde to spend several hours there without realising and it was always Goose that snapped her out of her workaholic trance, though that time the flerken did so in a new way.

Carol turned around at the sound of a distant meow, assuming she had gotten herself trapped in a cupboard as she often did when she went wandering around the ship, only to see the ginger tail sticking out from behind the curtain on your crate. Listening closely, Carol heard the familiar purr rumble from Goose and smiled, suddenly getting an idea.

“Goose,” Carol called as she sat cross legged a few steps away from the crate. The flerken appeared from behind the curtain and trotted over to the Captain obediently, nuzzling into her hand as she continued to purr happily. The curtain twitched and you peered around the gap to see where Goose had gone and blinked at the sight of Carol’s gentleness with the ginger creature. You pulled the curtain back further to watch with interest and Goose strolled back over to you, clearly enjoying the extra attention she was getting.

“She likes you,” Carol commented with an easy smile. Pretty. “You can come out of there if you want to. I’ll leave the crate there so you can go back to it whenever you want to,” Carol explained. You glanced around the room just as Goose sprang from your lap and jumped up onto the nearest counter to patrol her territory. You watched curiously for a few moments before stretching your legs out of the cramped space. The blonde averted her eyes at your still bare form, knowing that at some point she was going to have to help you dress.

“The bathroom’s just down the hall,” she told you. Your eyes flickered between Carol and Goose as you crept out of the crate and peered in the direction that she had pointed. When both feet were on the warm floor of Carol’s ship, you assessed her closely for any sudden movements and upon finding nothing, you continued cautiously down the hall. Once you had disappeared from view, Carol inspected the crate and noticed that the clothes she had given you had been pushed together with the blanket to form a nest. The glass of water was empty though the sandwich remained. That meant it had been a long time since you had eaten anything and seeing as it was Goose’s dinner, the Captain decided to make something up for all three of you.

When you reamurged from the hallway, the smells that hit you from the kitchen were heavenly. You didn’t recognise them but all you knew was that you wanted to know what was at their source and when you saw Carol standing over the stove, you approached slowly. She noticed you and smiled, following your gaze to the pot.

“Do you like rice?” She asked. That, you knew. You nodded. “It’s like that but an adapted version I learnt from the Skrulls.” You nodded again, deciding that you liked the sound of the blonde’s voice. “While we let it cook…shall we get some clothes on you?” She enquired. You glanced down and then back at Carol with a hesitant nod. You couldn’t remember the last time you had worn anything, but you followed a few steps behind Carol as she retrieved the clothes she laid out for you, knowing that if it was something she wanted then you should accept.

“Put your hands out,” she instructed gently. You did so and she bunched up one sleeve to slide up your arm and then did the same with the other before pulling the top over your head, chuckling softly at the sight of your dishevelled hair. You liked that sound too. And her sweatshirt. It was mostly white but had a few splashes of pink and blue swirls across it that you found yourself examining while Carol reached for the underwear.

“This foot up,” she coached with a tap to your left foot. You lifted it, then the other, until the underwear were pulled up your legs and fit comfortably around you. The sweatpants followed in the same way and you immediately felt considerably more comfortable in the clothes you had been gifted. They were a size bigger than what you needed, but you wondered if that made them better.

You gave her a small smile in recognition. “You can sit down while I plate up,” she told you, turning to go back to the kitchen but stopping when she saw you try to sit down on the floor. “Somewhere more comfortable,” she assured and pulled out a chair at the small table by the kitchen. You couldn’t recall ever having been let on furniture before, so it took you several embarrassing moments to get attempt to get on the chair, constantly wobbling until Carol muttered that you could stay on the floor, though not entirely happy with letting you do so.

You sat patiently there as you watched Carol finishing preparing the meal and plate two full dishes. The food was mounted so high that you weren’t sure you were going to be able to finish the meal and feared what would happen if you couldn’t. You had never been given so much food in one sitting before.

“Do you remember Earth?” Carol asked as she sat down at the table next to you. You didn’t recognise that name, so you shook your head and watched as Carol tapped her wrist band a few times until a hologram appeared between you. “That’s it,” she said, zooming in slightly on the sphere so that you could see it was a planet made up of majority water and that the land contained a vast variety of different conditions. It looked quite overwhelming and you certainly didn’t feel any compulsion to return if that was apparently where you came from.

“It’s not without its flaws,” Carol chuckled when she noticed your hesitance. “But it’s your home,” she said. You tilted your head in recognition and Carol took it as a positive sign. She focused on the hologram more. “Maybe here,” she suggested, bringing up a visual of New Asgard. It did look nicer than the rest of the planet, but Carol’s ship was growing on you unusually rapidly.

Of all the people you could recall ever meeting, none of them had been like Carol. They had been cruel and treated you as less than human, perhaps seeing you as such, and you hadn’t liked any of them. They kept you in cramped, cold places that you couldn’t escape from, making you unable to believe just how warm Carol’s ship was. And not just that, her as well. You had felt it when she dressed you, her hands radiated a gentle heat that you hadn’t ever experienced but were instantly fond of. Carol was the only person you had ever met who you had reason to trust, so you didn’t hope to part from her anytime soon.

You watched as Carol ate the meal she had prepared and glanced down at your own bowl and the spoon that sat in it. It smelled really good and it looked really good, you hoped you wouldn’t have to wait too long to eat it. “You can start,” Carol told you when she noticed you refraining. You blinked at her and the utensil she held in her hand that you couldn’t use.

Of course, the blonde thought as she realised why you hadn’t eaten the snack earlier either. You needed help. That explained how you had approached the water as well. Carol crouched down in front of you as you looked to her for guidance..

“I’m gonna help you,” she told you gently, bringing the glass up to your lips. You opened your mouth obediently for the Captain to coax the water past your lips gradually. She watched closely to ensure you weren’t taking too much at once and pulled back accordingly to replace the glass with a spoonful of the hearty meal she had prepared. After several moments, she sat down with you and stretched her legs out comfortably.

It was delicious, you thought as you savoured the dish while Carol did the same. You watched her closely for guidance as she ate and helped you, occasionally making comments about the various dishes she had learnt in her travels and how she had been able to share all of them with Goose given that his digestive system was practically impossible to disturb. Still, it was nice to share the dishes with another human, she told you openly with a small smile. You mirrored it, recognising that you were able to provide her of some kind of service. It felt good to please her.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” She asked once you were both done with the meal. Carol didn’t often host guests in general, never mind ones of your characteristics and needs. She hadn’t had many visitors during her time on Hala or when she lived with Maria either. However, if there was anything the blonde was neglecting in her hosting duties, you weren’t about to notice.

You watched curiously as Carol set up a movie for you near her bed and though you didn’t recognise the images that began to play, you were transfixed by them. You heard the Captain say something about Goose stealing her speaker as she disappeared through the ship to retrieve it. You waited several moments before wandering across the space and sitting down on the floor in front of the screen to admire it closely. When Carol came back, you already appeared fully entertained by the film so she left the speaker on the side and silently began getting back to work, glancing over at you occasionally to ensure you were okay.

You remained comfortably like that for some time until your eyelids began to feel heavy and there was a distant haze starting behind your eyes. Still watching the film, you lay yourself down and curled up on the hard floor by the screen, you were tired but unable to sleep so you peered back at the Captain who was already watching you. “You know, there are more comfortable places than the floor to sleep,” she told you with a small smile. You blinked at her. “You’re as bad as Goose,” she muttered to herself. “But it is getting late,” she admitted as she strolled over to your area and you immediately sat to attention. “Easy,” she chuckled, grabbing her sleeping shorts and a tank top.

Carol had her back to you as she changed, apparently unbothered by your gaze, letting you note the way her back muscles and shoulders flexed as she stripped herself of her clothes and into fresh ones. It was different having your owner not acknowledge you when they were out of clothes. A lot of Carol was different to the others, you just didn’t realise it was because she didn’t consider herself your owner.

“Do you want to sleep there?” She asked as she pointed to the crate. You understood the gesture and made your way over to the crate without being able to communicate that you would rather sleep elsewhere. The box was too small, something that provided comfort when you were unsure of the new environment, but since discovering that it lacked any threats, you seeked out the space that was at your fingertips.

Unfortunately, Carol couldn’t have known any of this and simply watched with a bemused smile as you dragged the blanket half way out of the crate so that you could stretch your legs out past the curtain. As the blonde got herself comfortable in her own bed, she continued to glance your way every time the curtain shifted until you opted to turn around completely and settle with your head outside the crate where you could keep Carol in your view.

“Comfortable?” She threw you another blanket despite the ship being a suitable temperature and you didn’t hesitate to bundle it up to use it as a pillow, still looking at her through sleepy eyes. Once she bid you goodnight and turned over, you let the waves of exhaustion wash over. It was the first time in as long as you could remember that it felt safe to do so.

Boredom was not something that had come to you in a long time. Usually, your empty moments were ruined with fear and anticipation for what was to come, but the safety and assurance you felt on Carol’s ship had gradually put your mind at ease enough to let those quiet moments be tempted by curiosity. Carol was a busy woman, always on the lookout for issues she would have to deal with. It left you unoccupied enough to let that initial hesitation be surpassed. You couldn’t live in fear forever.

You had been with the Captain for several days, the pair of you falling into a routine you were becoming accustomed to. She woke up first and prepared breakfast for you both, telling you all about the latest news from across the galaxy that you didn’t really understand. Whilst she would work, you would tentatively explore more and more of the ship you were temporarily living in, curious at the possessions Carol owned and the technology her ship possessed. The only reason you had the confidence to do so was the encouraging smile the blonde sent your way every time she saw you venturing further around her home. But it wasn’t a large home and there was only so much for you to entertain yourself with before you needed something different.

You perched yourself onto the floor next to the stool Goose was sitting on, still not keen on sitting on furniture. You held your hand out to the flerken who nuzzled into your knuckles affectionately, then glanced up at the Captain and wandered over to her side.

“We’ll be in Earth’s orbit in a few days,” she told you, bringing up an image of New Asgard again. You weren’t sure how to communicate that you didn’t want to leave, so you looked away. “I know it might be scary to move again, but they’ll take good care of you,” Carol said, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder. The contact was unexpected, but you liked it. You met Carol’s unsure eyes and responded by resting your head against her leg, nuzzling into the soft fabric of her sweatpants slightly once you realised how gentle it felt on your skin. Carol was taken aback by the act, feeling a tenderness overcome her at the contact. She smiled to herself when you opted to stay put for a few moments longer. She didn’t have much contact with other humans herself and she didn’t realise how much she needed it until you offered it to her.

“You need a bath,” Carol broke the silence by saying. You pulled away and scrunched your nose up at her, making the blonde chuckle. “Come on, it won’t be that bad,” she insisted.

You watched as she walked off down the corridor and heard her start the taps in the bath. You remained stubbornly fixed to that stop on the floor until a faint smell of flowers travelled through the corridor. Following your nose, you wandered through to the bathroom where the sizable tub was soon filling with bubbles. It did look tempting.

“You wanna get in?” She asked with a knowing smile. You nodded. “Lets get those clothes off of you then,” she continued as she gently pulled the clothes off of your body and into a pile on the floor. You had been wearing the same clothes since she had given them to you because you hadn’t gotten them dirty and she was cautious of making you uncomfortable by stripping you too often. To her surprise, you didn’t react to her taking the clothes because your attention was fixed on the growing mountain in the tub. She chuckled and encouraged you in with a hand to the back.

Unfortunately for you, the tub was too high and you found the task of hiking your legs over steadily to be of some difficulty when you considered how you could slip on the other side. Fortunately, Carol’s strength was more than ample to lift you into the tub herself, something that made you smile fondly at her. You liked how strong she was, because you were learning that she wouldn’t use it against you, only as aid.

Once you were submerged in the bath, Carol brought over the flannel and soaked it in the water before ringing it out and bringing it up to your face. “Hold still,” she chuckled when you playfully darted away, stopping when you felt how warm and refreshing the cloth was against you. You allowed Carol to continue washing your body tenderly, humming softly to herself as she did so. She made the occasional comment about the different places she had acquired the unique soaps and you listened intently, wondering if she would ever show those places to you.

To her credit, Carol cleaned you thoroughly, using her soaps, cleansers and some shampoo once she began finding her own comfort in the task. The warm, soapy water felt just as good on her own skin as it did over you and there was a certain fulfilment in the way she was able to handle and aid you. She especially enjoyed massaging the shampoo into your hair and the small content noise it brought out in you. You both could have stayed there for much longer.

Once you were sitting on the bath mat next to the tub, Carol wrapped you up in a heated towel to stop you getting cold and did the same for your hair, effectively cocooning you snuggly. You didn’t like the hair dryer, she learnt, but not so much that you struggled too much against her when she began to use it. You sat obediently with a displeased look upon your face that was soon changed when you were dressed into a clean pair of Carol’s clothes.

“Did you enjoy that?” The Captain asked as she crouched in front of you. You smiled at her and nuzzled into her shoulder affectionately, making the blonde chuckle. “Me too,” she admitted. “We'll have to get another one in before you go.” Carol hadn’t expected to feel so disappointed as the words left her, but it was clear a part of her wanted you to stay. But by letting you stay, surely she was no better than the people who had taken you in the first place?

“Let's get some food,” she said to distract herself. You followed promptly behind her and stayed that way for the majority of the day as well as the ones that came after. Whenever Carol was working, you would sit or lay by her feet, content to feel her tower over you in a way that seemed to block the rest of the world out. When she cooked, you sat to the side and watched with eager eyes and a growling stomach. When she took some time to unwind and watch some tv, you listened out for her chuckles with soft anticipation.

With you becoming so used to seeking out a close proximity to the blonde, nighttime was hard. You didn’t like the crate anymore, even with all of the blankets and sweaters you had stuffed inside. It wasn’t enough and it was lonely, so one night you ventured out to her bed.

As you peered at Carol’s sleeping form, you frowned at the small lights that were attached to her temple. She didn’t look happy to have them on, despite being asleep. She was restless and a crease was permanently embedded between her brows. You didn’t like to see her like that and wondered if the device on her was hurting her, so you scrambled into her bed and patted the device. Carol awoke with a start, eyes locking on your as she panted heavily. She was scared. You had never seen her scared before.

You whined, high in your chest, and burrowed yourself into Carol’s chest, nuzzling your head against her wildly beating heart. The blonde froze at first, still recovering from her nightmares until your efforts appeared to smother her terrors because you pressed yourself so firmly against her. A pair of strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you up her body until your face was between her neck and shoulder and you took the cue to settle yourself there as you held her.

“Hey,” Carol whispered once her heart finally returned to its resting rate. She brought a hand up to your hair and began to absently comb her fingers through, wanting to feel you in your entirety. It soothed her to no end, she realised, and it was something she would soon have to give up. You would be in Earth’s orbit by the morning. She didn’t want you to go, so she held onto you tighter as her chest pulsed with the thought that you wouldn’t be there the next night.

Did that have to be the case? She wasn’t hurting you or manipulating you or exploiting you. She was caring for you, something that very few would be able to do as much as she could. Even if she took you to New Asgard, there would be no one on one connections like she had formed with you because they would all be too busy for that.

You had found solace with her, who was to say you would be able to find it elsewhere? With someone who could care for and protect you as well as she could? What if by sending you away, she was ridding you of the only home you would ever truly have?

“Do you want to stay here with me?” Carol asked. You held her tighter and tenderly brushed your lips against her neck. “Me too,” she told you with a relieved smile.

Her mind was made, your home was with her.

#marvel #dark!marvel #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel

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colonelarr0w · 1 month

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I love your writing so much!!

Can I request some comfort Sukuna where he finally breaks down the walls around readers heart who has been hurt previously years before…reader made him wonder why they didn’t ever let him see them cry before and that bothered him.

Sypnosis - Love wasn't for everyone, you had long since accepted that fact. But ... were you really okay with being alone?

Warning(s) - None besides mature themes and some foul language.

A/N - Oh my god I loved this request so much. Reader is definitely a little bit too much like me in this one, but it's okay because at least she somewhat fixed her issues!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Love wasn't for everyone.

That was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had swallowed after so many years of being constantly disappointed. One after the other, it was as if the heavens above were taunting you. Either that, or they were punishing you for some heinous crime.

Even though you wanted so desperately to experience what everyone else did; stolen glances, random flowers, gentle kisses, passionate sex, late-night dates … you had just come to the conclusion that no matter what you did, it just wasn't for you.

And you were okay with that.

Yet, it was annoying to then hear others come to you spewing their bullshit.

"You just haven't met the one yet!" "Don't worry, love will come to you when you least expect it."

"Trust me. The moment that you stop looking for love, it comes to find you."

"You're quiet," Sukuna says harshly, dropping his finished cigarette onto the ground and snuffing out its orange hue with the toe of his boot. Your head jerks upward, blinking for a moment before you clear your throat – you hadn't meant to fall into a daydream.

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm okay," you answer quickly, lifting your own half-finished cigarette to your lips and inhaling. You hoped that the smoke would ease your nerves, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Sukuna's eyes roam over your figure, his mind taking notes on your expression and body language. Your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes flickering to look at anything but him, your lips are turned downward in a frown that he somewhat wishes would go away. Your shoulders are stiff, back standing as straight as a line. Your hands are shaking.

"Tch," he clicks his tongue, turning his body and half-stepping towards you. His fingers close over your wrist, pulling the cigarette away from your lips. "You're a shitty liar."

Your eyes cast themselves to the ground, embarrassment heating your cheeks. He falters, but he toes out your cigarette anyway, then turning to face forward again – he doesn't want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a beat of silence, hanging his arms over the railing of your apartment's balcony. Your eyes flicker to him for a moment, silently admiring the way that the moonlight illuminates his face and the tattoos inked into his skin.

"Nothing that would interest you."

Not when it comes to you. Talk to me, he wants to say. But the words fall dead on his tongue. He doesn't turn his head to look at you, only humming in acknowledgement.

Another beat of silence passes over you and Sukuna. It gets you wondering … did he even like being around you? After all, the only reason why he kept meeting you after work was because he had offered you a ride home. In return, you offered him cigarettes. A fair trade.

"Interesting or not," he hesitates, biting his tongue, "'s not good when you keep all that stuff in."

You freeze, hands tightening their hold on the railing as you stare out at the cityscape. Already you can feel tears beginning to gather along your waterline. You try your hardest to swallow them away, but nothing.

"I-I said it was fine," you manage to choke out, trying to subtly wipe at your eyes. Sukuna notices … he always did.

He reaches into his pocket for something, then nudging your arm with a handkerchief closed between his fingers. You take it, mumbling a quiet thanks before wiping your eyes with it. "I'm sorry."

Sukuna doesn't answer, he doesn't have to. It's more of a silent understanding that yes, something is bothering you, but in your own time you would open up to him about it. Maybe it wouldn't be tonight, maybe it wouldn't be tomorrow … but eventually, you would.

He shrugs in response to your apology. "Nothin' to apologize for."

Another beat of silence passes over you both, this one more comfortable than the last. Sukuna reaches into his pocket, taking out the cigarettes that you had given him. He opens the box with his thumb, hesitating on taking another one out.

You eye the box out of the corner of your eye … it was the only reason he even came into your apartment, wasn't it?

To your shock, he drops the box off of the edge of the balcony, watching it through half-lidded eyes as it falls out of sight. You turn your head to look at him, finding him already staring at you.

Neither of you say anything.

One minute turns into two, two into four, four into six.

"Y'know, I get the whole … wanting to be alone thing," Sukuna says, turning away from you so that he wouldn't have to look at your slightly pained expression. He leans further against the railing, gaze focusing on the blinking lights of a nearby billboard.

"You can tell yourself all you want that you want to be alone," he finally turns to you, "but do you really want that?"

You freeze, eyes wide like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Blankly, you stare at him, mind struggling to mull over what he had just asked you.

Did you really want to be alone?

"I-" You pause, swallowing the lump that had settled in the center of your throat. "I don't."

With that, Sukuna swallows all of his pride and tugs you into his arms. You fold into him, nails biting into the back of his leather jacket – the one that reeks of smoke and of must. But at the same time, those two comforting smells remind you that right now, in this moment, you aren't truly alone.

Do y'all want a part two of this? Or like a series of Sukuna and !Non-Trusting girlfriend?

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna fanfiction #sukuna ryomen fanfiction #sukuna fanfiction

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ellecdc · 2 months

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single mom lily x fem!reader?

reader works in an ice cream shop and cute little harry (im imagining hes like 4/5???) absolutely adores the place so lily brings him in for ice cream all the time and falls for reader bc she is just so good with harry

ok here's my attempt 😮‍💨 thought this idea was so cute though!

single mum!Lily Evans x fem!reader meet cute

Lily was very lucky and very grateful that Harry had been a generally easy child. He was so much like his father that, whilst it didn't translate into the romantic relationship most parents wished to enjoy, led to a wonderful son and the best co-parent a woman could ask for.

And because Harry was such an easy-going child, she was trying very hard to stay patient with him as she frantically texted with James.

L: James Potter, where in the buggering fuck is this ice cream place that has ‘spiderman’ ice cream!? J: LOL oh god sorry. It’s on the boardwalk near the ferry. L: Thank you 😮‍💨 J: He making a fuss? L: I think we may have been moments away from a stage five meltdown. J: Thoughts and prayers 🫡

One meltdown avoided later and they were finally walking into the quaint, family owned ice cream shop on the boardwalk by the ferry, just as James described.

“Oh no!” Harry cried dramatically, holding his little hands to his face.

“What is it, Haz?” Lily asked, looking around to see what could have possibly caused such worry in a five and a half year old.

“The man!” He explained.

Which explained nothing at all to Lily, still looking around the shop in confusion.

“What man?”

“The man with the spiderman ice cream! He’s not here!” Harry cried, turning to his mum with tears magnified by his glasses as they began pooling in his eyes.

She was racking her brain for something to say to the boy when a bubbly voice trilled from behind the glass ice cream displays.

“Hello there! What can I get for you two?” You greeted the pair with a beaming smile. If Lily wasn’t so caught up with Harry, she would have likely taken a moment to admire your radiance.

“The man!”

Lily watched as your smile fell only slightly and you tilted your head in confusion. “Which man, sweets?”

“The man with the special ice cream! He made it after my favourite superhero!” Harry cried with a stomp on his foot.

Lily pulled Harry towards her as she offered you an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry, he came here with his father last week and I-”

But like a beautiful ethereal angel sent from Lily’s own personal heaven, you waved her off with an easy smile. “Not to worry at all, love. My dad is the better ice cream server, so I understand your disappointment, little man.” You empathised. “But!”

Harry perked up at that, standing a little taller as he looked at you expectantly. “He did tell me that a certain hero may be coming in to look for some special spidey ice cream; could that be you?” You stage whispered the end of your sentence to Harry, causing him to squeal in delight.

“Yes!”

“Oh thank goodness.” You said with a dramatic sigh. “I thought I was going to have to erase your memory for giving away trade secrets!”

Harry squealed in excitement again and shoved his face up against the glass casing to watch you start expertly scooping ice cream, completely unawares of his fingerprints and foggy breaths creating more work for his newfound hero.

“How many scoops, my man?”

“Five!”

“Uhm,” Lily interrupted, placing a conciliatory hand on her son's shoulder. “Maybe just two.”

“Mum!” Harry whined, but you just laughed.

“Sorry kid, mum’s the boss.”

Harry acquiesced with one more groan, but grinned when he saw the size of the scoops you were serving him.

“What about you, mama?” You asked after handing Harry his cone, watching as the boy made his way to sit at a table with his red and blue ice cream.

“Is it really spiderman ice cream?” Lily blurted instead of answering your very normal, professional, and polite question.

You barked a laugh, but Lily was pleased that your laughter was because you found Lily funny rather than at her expense.

“Between you and me,” you whispered conspiratorially, resting your arms on the glass counter and your chin on your hands. “It’s just moonmist ice cream, but this batch used too much food dye, so instead of the normal light blue, pale purple, and pastel yellow, it turned out a little more…super.”

Lily looked back to her son, happy as can be with his super ice cream as he watched boats sail by in the harbour.

“Brilliant.” Lily whispered as she turned back to face you, only to find you smiling softly at her already.

“Yes.” You agreed, though Lily wasn’t quite sure what you found brilliant. “So, what can I get you?”

“Oh.” Lily responded dumbly, looking hastily through the options before opting for two scoops of rocky road.

“Fine choice, m’lady.” You said before scooping, once again expertly, the frozen treat onto a cone.

“Is that what you usually get?” Lily asked suddenly. You seemed surprised at her question as your eyebrows migrated to your hairline and you looked up to consider her.

Lily hoped to all hell that her blush wasn’t as furious as it felt.

You smirked before your eyes flit back up to hers. “I’m more of a strawberry girl, myself.” You replied quietly, shooting Lily a wink.

If her blush hadn’t been furious before, she was certain it was now.

Lily paid and Harry shot you a “thanks ice cream lady!” as they headed towards the exit with their ice creams in tow.

“You’re welcome, little man! Stay super!” You said with a wave.

“I will!”

“Hope to see you and your mum here again soon.” You said quieter this time, sending Lily a kind albeit shy smile. Lily was certain you’d be seeing the two of them here again.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #lily evans #lily evans x reader #lily evans x you #lily evans x fem!reader #fem!reader #wlw #baby harry #baby harry potter #ellecdc fics

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scribble-dribble-writes · 9 months

Note

Hello! Would you do a mild angst Buggy x Reader fic? With some fluff at the end? Where Buggy and Reader where a fling back in the day when she suddently disapeared. When raiding a village one day years later he meets a boy that looks like the perfect mix of him and his former lover- finding out that he's his son and she died long ago? Her only legacy was this boy.

Buggy as a father omg AHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭

---

One Night

It wasn't enough searching the seas on his own, he wanted to deploy every ship possible. He wanted to dive into the depths of the ocean even if it paralysed him just so he could find the truth about your disappearance. It pulled apart his mind like no other trauma he had ever faced. He drank till he could see the stars or if he was lucky, your face. As a pirate captain, he had been with endless women. Faces he never recognized, voices that never mattered because all they ever did was hold him for the night but you.

He pushed away from the railing, he wanted to scream, to throw this bottle in his hands and break it into shards. His tears weren't enough, he tugged on those gloves as if they were his armour, preventing his fingers from yearning for your warmth. You were the one that slipped away.

A young merchant by a seaside port he had docked once. He had come by your stall demanding you hand over your wages when you stood your ground, looked him in the eye and said no. His henchmen cracked their knuckles behind him as they edged closer but he remembered his hand shooting up, telling them to stop because something within him had shifted.

Noticing his intrigue you had brokered a deal with him instead. To trade all your hand made lanterns instead of the money because no one was buying them and there was no room for you to stock them anymore.

He tilted his head, all the signs pointing towards the fact that you were closing down your shop.

"I have no need for your lanterns.", He scoffed but you shrugged your shoulders, continuing to wipe the glass in your hands.

His crew began to murmur and laugh behind you at your audacity.

"I have a need for the money I've earned. You seem to be doing well for yourself.", you responded looking behind him at his ship and his crew.

He couldn't understand you. You were at his mercy but why was he feeling like he was at yours?

You were an enigma, a map he couldn't read and that was enough of a challenge for him to concoct a plan. Although a pirate, his life was mundane. The same raids, the same celebrations but you were a spark. A different colour he had never seen.

"That is true.", he rolled back on his heels as a smile threatened to spread across his face.

"You can keep your money.", he said turning to catch your eyes again, he heard the silent gasp amongst his crew mates. He had never been this generous before.

"But I would like to hire your services.", he spoke picking up one of your glass lanterns. It puzzled you, you stopped what you were doing as you focused on him, your nervousness now turning into confusion.

"What for?", you asked.

"My circus lights are in need of an upgrade and the quality of your glass is spectacular, along with it's workmanship.", he held the glass up to the light to inspect it.

"I need you to replace all the lights on the ship.", he looked at you and you gasped.

All the lights on the ship, that was two months of work plus the wages. You didn't have to go to bed hungry. Pirate or not, it was honest work and you needed it. So without making him wait for long, you took up the offer.

"When do I start?", you asked.

"The sooner the better.", he hummed flashing you a smile and for second you forgot who he was.

The beauty about the circus was the magic and he embodied it. Never letting you know who he was, elusive like a rabbit in a hat, here one moment, gone the next.

But with every day you boarded the gaudy vessel by the docks, you grew to understand there was more to him. The quiet nights you spent when the town and crew were asleep, to screw on the bulbs and fuse the glass pieces. He kept you company. He wouldn't talk much, but he snuck glances at you and you did the same.

The distance between you, lessened as the days went by and soon he was seated by your side holding up the tools you needed. His soft eyes gazing into yours before looking away. This was a side no one could witness cause he had it sealed. This version of him wasn't up for display.

The nights had become his favourite now, he didn't have to utter a word, make up a joke, exert his authority, he could just sit by your side and listen to sound of the waves. Watch you mix the colours and bring to life the ideas in your head just like he did with his shows and strategies. He didn't have to peel away his clothes to feel seen, your knowing smile after he pulled a stunt or threw a tantrum was enough.

But it was when you had told him it wasn't his fault for all the hurt he carried, after a night he had a little too much to drink and began to writhe in his self hatred, you were there. To hold him up, to quiten these thoughts that were loud in his head and though his vision was blurry, he could never forget the moment you had kissed him then.

You did in the hopes that when he woke up the next morning he would have forgotten about it, but the days after that he looked at you like he had remembered all of it.

It was the final night, the ship rocked gently but the deck was alive. Your lights brought a new life to this ship, it's crew smiling for the first time since you've been here and while you stood in the middle admiring your work, yours eyes found his. There up by the helm, his head resting in his hands with his eyes set only on you.

That was the night, you could never forget. The truth behind you shutting down your shop was not because of poor sales but because you were sick. Only you knew, and you were set to spend the money you had travelling or doing good of some kind, to leave a mark before your time had come.

So this was perfect. Your lanterns would adorn this ship always. You didn't want to bring down the mood of everyone around, so you held this moment to yourself. Nothing could top this feeling of satisfaction.

You stood by the railing, looking out at the sea, the waters dancing under the moonlight and the soft colourful glow from the ship, when he bumped his shoulder gently into yours.

"I feel like we've become friends after all this time.", he said sweetly and you smiled. It was true, he had become your friend. The only man who made you laugh.

But the moment his eyes lingered on yours it was as if he could read your sadness, he jutted his chin towards you in a manner of asking you what was wrong but you shook your head to put him at ease.

"Just that this is my last day on this beautiful ship.", you pushed away to spin around as soft music played. When you came to a halt, your smile so full on your face that when you saw him looking at you, you were certain he was in love. In love with you.

Your tried to hide the sinking feeling but he only made it worse by walking towards you to catch your hands in his, guiding you into a dance that the warmth in his gloves felt soothing from the cold of the night.

"You've made it beautiful.", he said confidently and it stung you. The truth you knew, that you didn't have all the time to offer him.

"You'll always be welcome here.", he continued and you could gauge where this was going.

"Buggy.", you whispered his name, trying to interrupt him but your heart didn't. When would be the next time you would feel loved? You didn't know. So you stayed, documenting his words so that you carry it with you till the end.

"In fact I feel it's time I come clean about about our deal.", He said and his eyes reflected the colour of the lights.

"Somewhere in between these two months, from the first moment I saw you, I've fallen in love with you.", he said, the rhythm picking up in the song that he twirled you around as though you were a star and he was your admirer.

You forgot about the pain in your life and let your heart roam free. Just for this night. When morning came you will cage it and disappear.

You danced around him, escaping from his hold because you couldn't tell him you had fallen for him too. Because that would break him. But he reached for you again, his hands pulling your arms to him that now you couldn't evade him any longer. A vacuum settling over him and you drowning out the music as you gazed into his eyes.

"Say something.", he laughed nervously as though he had put his entire life on the line.

"I cannot offer you an eternity.", you spoke, your smile dying away.

"but I can give you one night.", you let your fingers hold the sides of his face and watched him unravel.

"One night of your love?", he questioned and you nodded your head, sure that he was going to laugh at you.

"That is more love than I've ever received in my life.", he flashed smile just like yours, one mixed with peace and melancholy.

With that he pulled you in, his lips kissing you where he pleased as he stubbled along with you into his quarters, kicking his boots off like he was a drunken sailor, taking you with him as he fell into the bed.

One night, that changed the course of your lives.

Now those memories won't die, in fact they insisted on pestering him, drowning him in the frustration that your words were something he could never hear again.

"Captain, land up ahead.", his crewmate approached him.

"What do you want me to do with that information?", he barked back angrily.

"Do we put down our anchor or pass it by?", the boy answered nervously.

Buggy looked at the island, the lights near the docks reminding him of you again. He groaned.

"Raid it, you fools!", he ordered, stomping away to the helm.

The citizens were wary of his arrival. They scattered away from him as he walked down the streets. Everyone left, except for a little boy. He was by the street corner, juggling glass lanterns as he balanced himself on a unicycle. Buggy stopped in his tracks, the boy's face resembling yours and his dark blue hair looking a lot like his.

"Do we burn down the town?", a deckhand asked him.

"Go back to the ship.", Buggy ordered leaving his crew in confusion. They were reluctant to act on his word that he turned back to yell at them. Telling them to leave.

As they went away, he approached the boy.

"Good day to you, sir. Would you like to see a magic trick?", the boy beamed at him.

Buggy fought back tears, as he crouched down.

"I would.", he said softly and watched as the boy pulled out a card, he tried to hide the card within his tiny fingers to then flip it around quickly to hold up a golden coin instead.

Buggy's heart stopped. The gold coin wasn't an ordinary coin. It carried the seal of his Jolly Roger. One given to crew mates and friends as a means to let people know that they were under his protection.

He tried to take it from the kid but the boy closed his fists on it and drew it back.

"I can't give it to you, sir. It was my mother's.", he stared Buggy down. His eyes the same as yours that Buggy couldn't help but let out a knowing laugh.

"Do you know that coin could fetch you a lot of berry, boy?", he asked to which the boy grew silent, his eyes falling to the floor as sadness seeped into his tiny face.

"I know. But my mother said if I kept it safe, my father will come in search for me.", his sweet words broke through Buggy's facade.

"Where is she?", he asked instantly, wanting to take you and your son home with him. He looked around the market, his heart picking up it's pace in the hopes that he could see you once again.

"She's not here. She's gone home to the clouds, that's what the doctor told me. She can't come back from there.", he heard the boy say and understood what it meant that he broke down to sit on the dirt road. The innocence in the boy's face now replaced with a grief he was too young to understand.

Buggy reached for the lanterns the boy owned, it looked similar to the ones you had made.

"Would you like to buy them? I know how to make more of those.", the boy chirped, his eyes looking up at Buggy with the expectation of making money.

Now that made him feel like he was looking straight into a mirror, he smiled.

"Did your mother tell you about your father?", he asked only for the boy to jump up.

"Oh yes. He owned a huge ship. Travelled across all the seas, fought bad guys and sea monsters. He also had blue hair just like me.", The kid said with evident excitement.

Buggy reminisced your presence, that you left your mark in everything and everyone. That even now, you had made sure the boy knew him as someone good and that was how you had seen him. Buggy met the expectant eyes of the boy and slowly removed his captain's hat.

"Blue hair like mine?", he asked and watch the gears turn in his head.

The kid reached for his hat to run his finger over the crest. Placing the coin next to it, he drew in a gasp. It was a match. The crest was the same as the one on the coin. Buggy prepared himself to explain more, but all he felt was the sudden force with which the child ran into his arms. He wrapped his hands around him and Buggy knew he was never going to be the same again.

"You came. You came for me.", the boy cried and Buggy couldn't help but let the tears he held back roll down his cheek.

He had found you, a part of you and that was all he could ask for.

He wiped away the tears as he carried the boy.

"Now come on, I've got to show you my ship.", he said with a dramatic flair as he walked down the street with his son in his arms.

#buggy x reader #buggy thoughts #op buggy #one piece buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #opla #op live action #opla buggy #op fluff #op fanart #one piece fan fiction #one piece fluff

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vodika-vibes · 4 months

Text

Did You Know? - A Request from @wax-birds

Summary: You've been the Batch's medic since well before the Jedi Purge happens, and it just made sense to stick with them when they defected. Recently, Tech's been going out of his way to tell you random facts, and at first you were confused, but you're starting to understand what his game is.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 1618

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is close to what you wanted. I made up the planet, but I think the bird is an actual thing in the Star Wars verse...I didn't actually do any research, lol.

“Did you know,” You lift your gaze from your datapad to look at Tech, who’s standing awkwardly in the door to your area of the marauder, “the Morai birds mate for life and should their mate pass they remain in the nest waiting for them to return.”

“I…was not aware of that.” You say, “I also didn’t know that you were interested in the mating practices of birds.”

“Ah, well,” He nervously rubs the back of his neck, “I am interested in a wide range of topics.”

Amusement lifts your lips into a smile, “And your fixation for the week is birds?” You tease very gently.

“They are very brightly colored.” Tech offers, “And are native to the planet we are about to visit.” He hesitates, “And I remembered that you have a Morai tattoo.”

“Aww, Tech.” You clasp your hands under your chin, “You’re sweet, learning things about my favorite animals simply because they’re my favorite.”

“I…well, not solely for you. Omega had questions-”

“I DID NOT!” Omega shouts from the next room.

Tech ignores her with the long practice of an older brother, “And then I remembered your tattoo-”

Omega appears next to him, her face is scrunched up, “Stop lying! You looked that stuff up specifically-mmph!” Tech slaps his hand over Omega’s mouth, stopping her from talking.

“Thank you, Omega.”

Your gaze flickers from the annoyed preteen, to Tech, and then back again. “Well then, if neither of you are injured, I need to get back to work.”

Omega pulls Tech’s hand away from her mouth, “Tech just hit me!”

“I did no such thing.”

“I have bruises!”

“You do not.”

“I want you to arrest him!” Omega declares dramatically as she points at her brother.

“I’m a medic, Meg, not a cop.” You reply with a small grin, “You want someone to punish him for hitting you, go to Hunter.”

“Maybe I will!” Omega says loudly, before she rounds on her heel, “Hunter!”

“Why would you tell her that?” Tech asks with a sigh.

You wink at him, “Well, if you get hurt, it means that you get one on one attention, doesn’t that sound fun?”

Tech averts his eyes, but a small smile lifts the corner of his lips, “I suppose it does not sound…awful.” He finally says as he catches your gaze, for a moment, just a moment, there’s something hot and needy in his gaze, before it’s quickly banked, and he turns away from you. “I will leave you to your work. We will be landing on Mora in three days.”

You know your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You know what you saw. And you are very, very interested.

And so you flash a small smile, even as a plan starts forming in your mind, “I’ll be ready.”

Tech glances at you one more time, and then slips out of your workspace just as Hunter shouts for him, and you muffle your laugh. Sometimes, a lot of times, the men you travel with are so obviously brothers that it’s hilarious.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you heard Echo and Wrecker arguing over Wrecker stealing some of Echo’s snacks only a little bit ago.

Still, you wouldn’t trade this job for any other medical career in the galaxy.

After all, where else would an incredibly handsome man flirt with you using bird facts?

Three days later, the Marauder lands on Mora, and you, with your medical kit slung over your shoulder, and your camera in hand, couldn’t be more excited.

“Alright,” Hunter says, getting everyone’s attention. “It looks like we have five different places we need to visit.”

“It’ll be faster if we split up,” You offer reasonably, “Using the buddy system, of course.” You add once you see the look on Hunter’s face. “And naturally, I won’t be paired off with Omega, since we’re both harmless.”

“I have a crossbow,” Omega reminds you with a pout.

“Ah, right. My mistake.”

“So that means you’re the only one here who’s harmless.” Echo teases as he bumps you with his shoulder.

“Yeah, well…before all else, do no harm, etc, etc-” You reply with a grin, as you bump him right back.

“Anyway,” Hunter interrupts, “Splitting up and using the buddy system isn’t a terrible idea. I’ll go with Omega. Tech-”

“I do not mind going with the doctor,” He interrupts, “As I understand, one of these locations has medical equipment she needs to inspect.”

Hunter looks at him, disbelievingly.

“It’s not a bad idea,” You offer cheerfully, “If anything is broken, I might not notice right away.”

Hunter turns his disbelieving gaze on you next, and you just beam at him.

“Fine. Tech and the Doc are going together. Which leaves Echo and Wrecker.” Hunter says, “Any complaints? Good. Omega, come on.”

You grin as the other groups walk off in different directions, and then you turn your gaze on Tech, who’s watching you with a small smile on his lips, “Shall we?” You ask.

“It should not take that long to get the equipment that we need.” He agrees, as he turns in the direction of the shop, and then waits for you to fall into step next to him.

“It shouldn’t,” You agree, “The longest part will really be you making sure that the equipment looks like it’s in working order.”

He glances at you, “You really would not be able to determine if the gear was in working order?”

“Of course I’d be able to tell. I just wanted to spend time with you.” You reply with an unrepentant grin.

“O-oh.”

You cheerfully take his hand in yours and you lace your fingers with his, “Anyway, once we have the stuff delivered to the ship, we can look around on our own. I need a new jacket.”

Tech is staring at your joined hands, as if he’s not sure what to make of it, and then he slowly squeezes your hand, and is rewarded with a blinding grin. The moment he realizes that it’s intentional, some of the nervous tension drains from him. “Is there something wrong with your jacket?”

“Well…no. Not really.” You shrug, “It just doesn’t match.”

“...What does it not match?”

You sigh, “You and your brothers. My leather jacket is white! It needs to be darker so I actually look like I belong.”

“You do belong.” Tech says, “You are the most important member of the squad.”

“We both know that’s not true.” You say with a laugh.

“It is true,” Tech insists, “We would be lost several times over without you.”

“Aww, you’re sweet.”

“I am honest.” Tech replies, “You have saved all of our lives on many occasions. We owe you everything.” He pauses, “And I prefer it when you wear white. It makes it easier to see you on the battlefield.”

“That’s not necessarily a good thing.” You point out as the pair of you come to a stop in front of the shop that’s holding the medical equipment that you need to look at.

Tech doesn’t reply right away as he enters the shop, “I think you look nice in white.” He finally says and then he turns his attention towards the shopkeeper and offers the name on the order.

Inspecting the machines takes a lot longer than you would prefer. A lot longer than Tech would prefer too, based on the look on his face, but there’s no way around it. Cid would have your heads if any of the machines were damaged in any way.

But finally, finally, you’re able to confirm the delivery, and you slump against Tech, exhausted. “This is the worst job ever.” You whine.

Tech glances at you, “Well, we are done now.”

“Until Cid gives us another job.” You grumble, and then you lay your cheek against his shoulder, “We used to fight for the good of the Republic, this work is demeaning.”

“But Cid does pay us,” Tech reminds you quietly, “Which is what we need.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Yeah, I guess.”

You take his hand again, and then tug him away from the shop. “Where are we going?” Tech asks, though he doesn’t seem to have any problems with trailing after you.

You just grin at him, and tug him down an alley. “I wanted to go somewhere private.” You reply once you’re not surrounded by people.

“For what purpose?” Tech asks.

“For this one.” You stand on your toes and brush your lips against his, before you pull away, “I don’t know if maybe I’m misreading things-” You murmur, though you’re not able to finish your sentence, as he tugs you against him and crashes his lips against yours.

One of his hands slides up into your hair, while the other tightly grips your hips, pulling you as close as he can. And when he breaks the kiss, his lips hovering just over yours, you can’t help but grin, “I take it I wasn’t misreading then?” You ask.

“I do not think you ever have.” Tech admits.

“Go me,” Your smile is soft and warm, “Hey, Tech?”

“Hm?”

“Did you know that I think about you all the time?” He blinks at you, startled, “And that I would be really, really happy if you loved me as much as I love you?”

“And here I thought that I was being obvious.” Tech murmurs, before he kisses you again and again, “Of course I feel the same way. Or else I would not be kissing you.”

You grin and lightly kiss him again.

“Did you know,” Tech says quietly, “That I think about you all of the time too?”

At that a bubbly laugh falls from your lips, “I do now.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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bitin-and-barkin · 7 months

Text

Yandere Donnie

Yandere Donnie would act Obsessive, Controlling, and Dependent.

When April first introduced Donnie to you, you guys fit together perfectly. Like two pieces of a puzzle.

You just GOT him in a way nobody else did.

You were so much like him, yet so different.

The entire time you two were together you two DOMINATED the conversation, April could barely get any words in.

You two traded numbers and from that point on, Donnie wouldn't do anything without you.

If he wasn't nagging April about "when she will bring you over again" (He was too nervous to ask you to come over, which is a first for him) he was texting you or calling you or gushing about you to anyone who could listen.

But how could he not!? You were PERFECTION embodied! He was obsessed with you!

You kept up with his smarts and sarcastic quips, even offering your own.

Although you weren't a tech prodigy you thought a similar way (the right way) and were OBVIOUSLY smarter than his dumb-dumb brothers.

Anytime that he had something to say, you hit back just as hard in a lighthearted, sarcastic tone.

You were also so badass too! Just the general air around you screamed "Cool, emotionless, mysterious, bad boy." You were so dominating and so strong! You were what he wanted to be!

But the thing about it was that you weren't emotionless, far from it.

Although you guys often competed there was never actually any bad blood. Despite being just as good as him (and possibly better, although he'd never admit it), you never held it over him.

You listened to him rambles about science and junk happily, but not in a I'm-only-listening-to-be-nice-but-I-don't-actually-understand-or-care but in a I-love-your-passion-and-can-understand-it-completely way.

You asked questions that he'd never even thought about.

And you were emotionally intelligent too!

You were kind, caring, and oh-so sickly sweet.

He didn't need to put up any sort of mask in front of you, as you made sure you made sure he knew you loved him in any form!

Even the moments when he was ashamed of who he was, when he was worried he would never be enough.

His intense moments of "emotionless passion" or his arrogant moments of dumbassary.

You pushed him to be better while accepting him as who he was.

You made him feel like MORE than his tech, he never felt like he had to hide anything from you, as hiding something from you, just felt like hiding something from himself.

All of his deepest secrets are shared and he expects you to do the same

You made him feel secure, like no matter what he did you would never leave him.

It was like you were a combination of himself and Mikey, his two favorite people in the world! (You were first though, of course)

Even when he was acting like a dumb-dumb (Although he'd never admit it) you held him accountable while still being understanding.

You could understand what he meant without even saying it!

It was like you guys were mind melded or something!

You were like him, a kinship. Almost a frenemy, rivals with how much you competed, but more friend then enemy.

You were almost a teacher to him in a lot of ways, but you never talked down to him or treated him like he was stupid for not understand things that came to you or other easily (like emotions, cough cough)

And he made sure (or at least tried his best) to do the same for you.

For example, whenever you make something techy from the countless facts of science Donnie had taught you he'll cherish it, probably getting an entire shelf and case for any inventions you make for him (and he won't "improve" or "modify" the work to become more efficient, no matter how much his hands are itching to)

Honestly it got to the point where you two were never seen apart.

Donnie began to see you as an extension of himself.

Or, more specifically two parts to something bigger.

Think Glitz and Glam from Helluva boss, or Sapphire and Ruby from Steven Universe, or Fireboy and Watergirl from those dumb cool math game games.

You were him, he was you, and you guys would never be apart.

You guys were two peas in a pod, best friends, yin and yang, fire and water, connected in an unbreakable way he wants to brand your name into his skin and he wants you to do the same for him

it was like a villain and his sidekick, expect none of you were the sidekick! You were equal after all, in his eyes. He genuinely values you and your opinion above everybody elses, and how you felt about something was just as important as he felt about it (aka, very important) He feels very strongly about making sure thing are "fair" between you two.

At first you were fine with this little obsession he had with you two hanging out, you couldn't see the red flags screaming in your face, but then he got oh so controlling.

He might not care about what you wear or how you dress, but every bit of tech in your house is replaced by his own, all suited to prevent hackers and stalkers from accessing your location they all have trackers on them, and the next time you fall asleep he will embed one into your skin

He doesn't mean it with malicious intent, he just wants to protect you as he would protect himself. You deserve protection after all, he just wants to make sure you're safe from any "stalkers."

He kindly searches your room for any "suspicious devices" placed by "creeps" he takes this opportunity to put in his own cameras to watch you from every angle in your home, you get more time away from him but he watches you while you sleep.

He gives you little trinkets and tech made by him just for you they all have cameras in them, he loves watching you

And your health is watched like a HAWK.

He's constantly calling you over to his place, under the guise of "making sure your healthy" and he does do that, he does!

It's like your a permanent hospital patient, with you being strapped up and poked and prodded.

Your heart rate would be constantly monitored with a watch he gave you along with your blood pressure, temperature, blood sugar, and steps per day.

The slightest cough will be treated like a medical emergency. His place would be disinfected and you would be "bedbound" from your illness.

Only he can see you when this happens, after all he's the only one who can care for you properly.

Honestly, I can see him medically abusing you, Munchausen syndrome by proxy style.

He'll give you new meds under the guise of healing whatever menial injury you got, only for you to get sicker and sicker. Hell, he might even put you under anesthesia and give you a couple of injuries (can't have you feeling pain or remembering it!) like breaking your legs and blame it on your "new disease."

Narcolepsy, bouts of paralysis or blindness, chronic pain, he'll do whatever makes you hang out with him more! Of course, none of it will actually be permanent or lifelong, he can stop it as quickly as he started it, but why would he do that when it's so affective?

And when you get ill, he'll insist he can be the only one to care for you. I mean, medical bills are expensive after all! Why waste your money when you can just go to your old friend Donnie!?

He'll have you lean on him for support, making you ill enough to the point that you couldn't even leave the sewers as you could barely move your legs and your entire body felt like it was in flames just so you guys can hang out together a little more

(To be honest it's less about the control he has over you and making you depend on him, and more on making you spend more time with him. But if he needs to make you dependent on him, he's not complaining.)

You'll have to stick with him until this "flare up" of your illness gets better. And he'll keep you trapped there with him through your disease until eventually he begins to break, as that now that you're by his side what the point of putting you through so much pain?

And so he'll down the dosage of the medicine he used to hurt you, just to make you feel a little bit better. But you take this as you healing, and you suggest to him that maybe, just maybe, you could go back home now? I mean you're getting better now, so you don't need to be around him ALL the time.

When he hears this he'll act calm at first even though he feels his blood running freezing cold and he'll help you pack up to go home, only for the next morning for the pain and paralysis come back, stronger than ever and making you cry and beg for it to stop

(He might even keep you trapped with him in this way, physically unable to leave and having your punishments being an up in the illness)

Sure, he'll feel guilt for making you feel so much pain and he'll miss your more fiery personality, that now has been dampened down due to your pain, but at least you're now next to him.

He'll help you learn to function to the best of your ability while ill, giving you a wheelchair and braces and the best prosthetics known to man.

But at the same time, he'll still be making sure you're still dependent on him, but independent enough where the old personality he fell in love with comes back. Independence dependence, per say.

Upping your meds just enough so that some days the pain still engulfs you but keeping it low enough so even on your neutral days you can engage in your battles of wits and words between you two that he oh-so-loved.

Good enough to function normally on your good days, bad enough that you writhe in agony as your skin flares up in pain on your bad ones.

It's all so you're still you, but he is still a part of you.

The same thing can be said for him. He is still him, but you are still a part of him. A MAJOR part.

And if you're ever pissed at him or resistant he'll drug your food with sleeping meds to make you more "soft" and "pliable."

But none of this dependence on him compares to how dependent he is on you.

As time goes on you can't get ANY time away from him.

Even before he does anything too drastic (before he practically kidnaps you) you are pretty much stripped of all your privacy and autonomy.

He's always following you around, showing up at your house unannounced, sneaking into your work/school to meet up with you in the bathroom, and any single moment you can be around him he WILL be around you.

The only moment of peace you get is in the bathroom and even then, if you're in there for longer than two minutes he'll begin to rant to you through the door.

It may frustrate you but to him it makes perfect sense. After all, two is better than one, so why would you ever need to be apart?

You guys are just better when with each other. You cover each other flaws and weakness and boost up each others strengths.

You need him and he needs you He needs you more than you need him, it feels like pulling teeth or losing a limb or peeling skin if he can't feel you, touch you, breath the same air as you

You're always there with him. Without you? It just feels so.. lonely. And he's not one to mull over being alone, in fact he loved it before he met you. But now? It feels like he's missing something vital, like an artery or a lung or his heart whenever you're away.

Wherever he goes he's always thinking about what you would want or what you would say, your voice taking up a special little part of his mind that was beginning to collect dust.

He felt your sadness, your passion, your anger, as if it was his. And whenever you smiled, he felt your smile like it was his own. It's so quiet now without you. He was always used to hearing your breath or your heartbeat, to the point where it felt like second nature to seek out it's comfortable rhythm He'll make a recording of your breathing pattern and put it as background noise in all of his favorite songs and make something to copy and let out the vibrations of your heartbeat tenfold, that way he can lay down on the floor of his lab and quite literally feel your heartbeat as if it was his own

So, when he explained all this to you so casually you finally began to get why he always wanted to be around you. it was unnerving at first sure, especially the way he looked at you with such desperate, mad eyes when he explained it to you after you said that you needed to get back home. Now that you knew this though? It just felt selfish to leave him alone.

His relationship with others falters as if he is talking to someone you also need to be involved, and the same goes for if someone is talking to you (this doesn't bother him as he firmly believes you are the only one he needs, his brothers and april are just an afterthought)

I mean, he doesn't hate his brothers! They still are his brothers after all, and he loves them. And he's happy to spend as much time with them as before you came into the picture, but you always need to be there, involved, and considered. You're practically part of the family, part of him! Part of something bigger and better! Just don't split you two up or else he'll scratch his skin raw, just ITCHING to hang out with you again

Whenever he's apart from you it's a bit like when Raph goes savage, but less angry and more anxious and scared shitless. Ever since he'd met you he'd never had to be alone this long

You can go out, do whatever you want as long as he's with you but you can't go home to your family, they aren't good for you

Your friends are weirded out by this and so are his brothers, with them pretty much telling you guys "Hey your relationship with each other is pretty weird. Why are you always around each other?"

You two deny this though, you out of innocence and naivety, thinking that Donnie would never invade on your personal space despite the uncomfy feeling you get when he butts into your conversations.

He would never hurt you or control you, despite how he stops letting you sleep at your OLD home, as now he always wants you to sleep in the same bed as him in your guy's room.

Despite that he's already began bringing your stuff into his your guy's room, setting it up as if you live together you practically do, your family thinks that you've ran away as it's been a month since you've gone home

He's also oddly touchy.

You see, a lot of you prolly won't agree but just think about it;

He's almost ALWAYS touching someone, as long as he initiated the contact he seems to be fine with and actually LOVE physical touch.

I just believe he doesn't like hugs because of his "emotionless bad boy image" and because it feels like he's trapped, and going to be suffocated. Like he has no control.

But with you? That's not a problem.

Although most touches with him are the ones as shown here, small things, touching you is GROUNDING for him.

He needs them in fact. You're his grounder, his shoulder to lean on, his support, a part of him. He needs your touch, he needs you. Often times you are the only thing that can calm him down from any "episodes" he has.

Besides that, although he'd never admit it, he's also quite lonely.

He loves his brothers but he feels fundamentally different from them, different from anybody else in the world.

So if he found someone who got him in the way he'd always wanted? He'd never let go of them.

This also goes for touch. Despite his touch aversion he often wished he had someone who he felt safe and comfortable enough with to hold, or someone who he felt loved enough with to the point where he could be held. So when he met you? All of his unrequited dreams of physical affection with someone whom he truly felt connected to came out.

He often takes your arms and rubs his hands back and forth on them as a stim, or does the same thing with your back while laying his head in the crook of your neck.

Something that he does pretty much whenever he can is sitting on your lap, not in a weird way though.

You two will be sitting on the floor (He's gotten a preference for sitting on the floor as it makes this activity more comfortable)

And you'll be causally laying against the wall, legs spread as Donnie sits between them and you peer over his shoulder.

Maybe you two can be just chatting, or maybe reading a book together or playing a video game together, with you giving him tips as he controls.

You two also often sit in opposite positions, with him peering over your shoulder as you sit on his lap.

Something else that also happens is him clinging to your back like a kola, with him running his hands over and over again over your thighs and arms as a stim.

And sometimes (often), he'll even run them over your chest and stomach.

This happens especially when he's having meltdowns, so you can't just shove him off.

And if you tell him to stop? He won't. Maybe he will for a while, but he'll "forget" and get back right to it.

If you tell him how it makes you uncomfy or how it's weird? He'll tell you that you're crazy. This is a completely normal friend activity, your just overreacting.

He especially does this when laying in bed with you, as he expects you two to sleep in the same bed. (You'll cuddle like this lmao, and donnie is the one clinging to you like a kola oddly enough)

Something else he also loves to do with you is parallel play.

You see, because of his independent nature, despite his obsession, not every waking moment will be spent talking to you.

But something that he still loves is just existing with you nearby, aka parallel play.

You two spend a lot of your time doing your own thing, maybe him coding as you watch movies or him napping as you play video games.

He loves doing this, and you like it too! it gives you back the freedom that was stripped away from you

Its the perfect solution! You and him can keep your independence while still being together, acting as one!

And during these moments, to stay connected, he'll use small, little touches.

A hand on the shoulder, sitting back to back (his favorite), an arm wrapped around your neck while you game on the couch, resting his face on your hand as you sleep. He loves them all.

And if you ever try and deny him any of this? Or slowly move away from him?

Well, he won't let that happen.

He's dependent on you.

He controls you.

He's obsessed over you.

He NEEDS you.

You won't ever go home or be alone again.

| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |

This was way too long, but I love him so much <3 It was itching at my brain until I wrote it down. This could work for platonic or romantic yandere, I prefer some form of queerplatonic. Overall, I believe his yandere-ness to be a very "we are pretty much one lmao" type thing because I am also autistic but touch averse and I often feel isolated from others around me, as I feel as if I could never be vulnerable around them. I often dreamed of someone who just GOT me in a way that nobody else did. This led me to be very interested in the idea of "fusion" from su as the act itself seemed so intimate; Two beings becoming one, being able to share a body and coordinate a mind, become something bigger than their parts to the point where you're a new person? That would be amazing. So I imagined that with Donnie. He believes you two are the same person in the way that Stevonnie from su is shown to be when they first fuse. It's obvious that there are two parts of you but just the way you work together just feels so natural. Idk, this is just heavy projecting and may be out of character, but I love the idea of dependent Donnie <3 Very much Jason Dean from Heathers vibes

Also, this is all BEFORE kidnapping, imagine how bad it would be after that. He values your opinion heavily and always takes what YOU want into considerations, except the certain "hard no" topics like ones that came to your safety, including those constant health checkups. He's no expecting you to agree with him all the time, but he is expecting you to listen. He would never hurt you, and you know that, just as he knows you wouldn't hurt him (no matter how much you should) so why won't you listen to him? He's only trying to help.

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mournings-stars · 3 months

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hopefully this isnt too much but how would the gals ((i mean all the hazbin hotel gals if you are willing)) react to you being ovverstimmed? likke the reader has autism and everything in the moment is too much for them how would everyone react and handle the issue? sorry if the spellingn sucks but as someone who has autism id love to see more of some around an autisic reader?

i rly love this ask!! thanks for taking time to chat with me ab it<3 i wrote from a mix of my experience with being overstimulated and some of what we chatted ab but here u go! i didn’t include all the girls but i hope u like :)

charlie

she has a pair of headphones ready for you whenever youre going somewhere where it might be too loud after a while

has a playlist of your favorite songs to help relax

doesn’t bug you, just asks if you want headphones and smiles when you’re shocked that she brought them

“i also made a playlist — or four — i really like this one because…” then she’d have to remind herself that she can over explain it later and handed over her phone

if you got irritable or didn’t want to talk she’d understand but she’d definitely hold your hand if you were okay with it (shes all about reassurance)

vaggie

she is very aware when things get to be too much for you

“do you wanna go?” if you nodded she’d gladly leave with you but if you said no she’d give you some other options since it can sometimes be hard to articulate what would help

she of course knows what helps you calm down the most, so she’ll give you those options and let you pick

you’re definitely trading in your waited blanket for her wings once she has them back

rosie

she can also tell when things are getting to be too much

say you go to one of cannibal towns many music nights, if thing are getting hectic she’ll have them tone it down before it gets to be too much

of course things can just come on (seemingly) out of the blue though, so whenever that happens she’ll take you home if you want to leave, make you both some tea after getting you your favorite blanket to wrap yourself in, and put some soft jazz on her old radio

if you’re a little snippy with her (i get extremely irritable when im overstimulated) she’ll back off, make sure there aren’t any harsh lights to bother you and check in later

emily

i hc that em probably gets overstimulated too at times being a younger seraphim and all that so she definitely knows how to help

if you’re walking down the promenade and she can tell you’re getting overstimmed, fidgeting, itching, just seeming overall uncomfortable, she’ll offer her headphones and if it’s okay she’ll put a wing around you to help you feel a little more secure

she’d definitely be the type to have every single option available so if you like to have something to do with your hands to help you relax, dont worry she has anything you could possibly want

definitely owns several weighted blankets so dont worry about that either

gives plenty of options but not too many at a time cause she knows that could be overwhelming

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sfehvn · 7 months

Text

intruder part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

Description: A year has since came and went following Astarion's ascension ritual. He is no longer himself, but then... Where is he? A/N: Forewarning, there is a brief portion detailing non-con voyeurism. Hope you all enjoy :) Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1656 Characters: ascended!Astarion x Tav

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“What do you think you will do once this is over?” Astarion’s head rested in your lap, your fingers running through silky white hair.

“I suppose I’ll just-” You stopped for a moment hesitantly, “Well, I’ll just follow you. I’ll follow you wherever you go. Whatever that entails.”

The large tub of warm water offered your mishandled skin the slightest inkling of comfort. Your bones ached to jump out of your skin, discomfort settling deep and unforgivingly. Unsure if this was the work of cruel touches or the utter disgust you felt for whatever was puppeteering Astarion around. You stare at the ceiling as if the answer to the problem in your mind is etched into it. Astarion was in there, trapped. You try to imagine what he must be thinking. Feeling.

You can’t help but notice the similarities of where you two have ended up. While Astarion was stuck in darkness in the literal sense, you are trapped in a different type of darkness. Shrouded by the darkness of the other Astarion’s thumb. You were a plaything, a pet, a toy.

“Eyes on me.” Astarion grunts out, buried deeply in a twenty-something human’s cunt. The sight turns your stomach viscerally. It’s not him, you try to remind yourself. You watch from the oak chair in the corner of your bed chamber, allowing yourself to dissociate entirely. The woman was beautiful.

Hair of sunshine and eyes of the vast waters, you knew of the woman’s fate. To end up another spawn for Astarion to toy with. Humans in the area who had come to learn of Astarion’s true nature came with the proposition of trades in exchange for immortality. You felt pity for her. If she knew what she was getting into, she would never have come here, indeed. Nobody could want this.

“He would have liked her too.” Astarion taunted as he led the woman to your bed, plans to desecrate the one place in the manor that you were able to find an ounce of comfort in. “Maybe I’ll let the dear old Astarion come out for a bit of fun.” Your heart sinks to your knees. The thought of another using Astarion’s body and soul for their own heinous intentions. You couldn’t bear it.

“Please don’t.” You pleaded with him.

Astarion tuts as he presses you down onto the chair. For whatever reason, he doesn’t follow through with his threat. Was it mercy? No, that can’t be it. Perhaps he simply wanted the enjoyment of watching the pain on your face while he used the body of the man you love to hurt you. Maybe he wanted the fun. You would never be sure.

You’re brought back to the present, the events of last night spinning in your mind. Your punishment for entertaining the incident. That’s what he called it, anyway. You longed to free him, to free yourself along with him. To leave this cursed manor and never return with the real Astarion in tow.

How?

The question that had been on your mind since your meeting with Astarion as you prepared for bed. How does one free a soul from a damnation such as this? Out of all the beasts, villains, and monsters you’ve fought, none had prepared you for a feat of this nature. On the precipice of jumping into the unforgiving sun and turning yourself into ash, that was no longer an option. Your beloved needed help. You weren’t going to abandon him.

The opening of the door jolted you from your thoughts, and you let out a sigh of relief upon seeing your chambermaid. “Lady Ancunin, may I be of assistance?” You nod, allowing the woman to approach the tub. You sit up to give her access to your wet hair. There was silence as she worked the knots from your strands, only sounds of meager discomfort when she tugged too hard, always followed by a heartfelt sorry from her. “What was he like?” There was a pause with her words, almost as if she expected to be scolded. Though, you both knew you wouldn’t dare. “I mean before-” She trails cautiously.

“Wonderful. He is wonderful, Alodia.” Your eyes were glued to the bath water that engulfed your body. Lowering your voice as if someone other than her would hear, “Maybe you will have the pleasure of meeting him someday.”

Alodia nods, “I bet he was a real gentleman to have someone such as yourself.” She couldn’t comprehend why you were with him, you could tell. Someone with such a kind soul forever paired with another who may as well be a devil ruling the Nine Hells.

“Careful.” You whisper, eyeing the door. No conversation went too long without Astarion’s knowledge, not even amidst nothing but the bars of soap that clean you. Alodia understood and continued to work through your hair without another word. It was clear you were just as much a prisoner as her.

Once your hair was tied into two careful braids and an obnoxious velvet gown clung to your body, you sat in the manor’s library. With Astarion out for the night, you made yourself comfortable with every piece of literature between the walls of your confinement. The stack of books grew as the night grew darker and darker. How much time had passed, you were unsure. You slammed down the last book and glanced around. A frantic sob erupted from your chest, heaving. You laid your head on the table before you and wallowed into the oak of the desk.

You were defeated. Hopeless. This godsdamn library had every composition, novel, and prose that you could think of, and not one aided you. Trance-like, you stood from the desk and made your way to the entry of the manor. A voice briefly stops you, “Lady Ancunin, I don’t believe Master Ancunin has granted you-”

“Tell Master Ancunin to burn in the Nine Hells.” You spit back, making your exit.

It had been too long. Once you’re out of the manor’s view, you breathe in the fresh air about you. As you get further into the heart of the city, chatter cultivates. Even in the middle of the night, it was lively, bringing you a hope you had not felt for a long time. Even reflecting on what punishment may await you once Astarion learns of your absence, you deemed this worth it. Of course. You would have preferred the warmth of the sun. Given your ailment, the beauty of the moon did just fine.

Strolling to Elfsong Tavern, you hummed an incandescent tune to yourself. My, this must have been the most airy you’ve felt in just shy of a year. The little bit of gold you managed to snag from Astarion’s stash may have just been enough to get you a drink and, if lucky, a room. You knew it was only a matter of time before he came looking for you. Maybe you’ll be banished to the dungeon. You didn’t allow yourself the time to think too hard. You approach the barkeep, looking at the selection behind him. “Wine? Have you got red wine?” You were a tad rusty in the socialization department.

The man behind the counter chuckles, “We do indeed.” He retrieves a bottle from behind the counter, preparing a glass. “What troubles you?” He inquires as you watch the red liquid spout into spotless glass.

“Whatever could you mean?” Your lips are pursed, accepting the drink as he offers it. You dig into your coin purse, “How much do I owe?”

“On the house.” He smiles. Alas, it would be warmer without the pity that lies so evident beneath the surface. You’d forgotten how ill you must have looked. Astarion’s words played over in your head.

“Gods, what has he done to you?”

“Alan Alyth.” The man offers. An introduction? It had been well over a year since you had the pleasure of introducing yourself.

“Tav Carmine.” You return before making your way to an empty table in the corner of the lightly occupied room. You bring the glass to your lips, and the dry liquid soothes your nerves for the time being. I will enjoy this, you thought to yourself.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” Astarion declares, his fingertips gliding across the delicate skin of your hipbone, up to your chest, cupping your exposed breast in his hand. His thumb moves in careful circles around your nipple. He sits upon his knees, watching the way your body reacts to even the smallest of his touch. His other hand moves comfortably onto your cheek, almost as if he’s relishing in the warmth that radiates from your body.

“You’ve only told me fifty times today. Are you feeling alright?” You teased, welcoming his cool touch across your eager body. His head dips, meeting your lips lovingly. One of your hands knots gently into his hair, and you shift so a leg rests on either side of his toned body.

“I suppose I’ll have to work on it tomorrow. Tonight, I’ll be making love to said beautiful woman.” His words are a prayer against your lips, and your heart flutters against your ribcage.

“I’ve been expecting you.”

The unknown voice causes your head to snap up in attention. “I’m sorry, have we met?” You try to recall the face, maybe someone you became acquainted with during one of many adventures, but you just cannot place them. You tip the glass to your lips, eyes never leaving the stranger in front of you.

“I don’t believe we have.” They helped themselves to the chair across from you. “I believe I can help you. I know what ails you.” The man is older, with brown hair peppered in grey roots. His eyes radiate a sort of enthusiasm.

“You couldn’t possibly know what ails me.” You chortle, though the sarcasm is evident in your laugh.

“Everything has led you straight to me. Try me.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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