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Here for @coldalienpersonagoth , sorry for the delay. Lot of things happened ^^' (and in a way, my newfound love helped me a bit writing this.)
The blanket weighs too heavily on your shoulders, but every time you push it away, the cold comes over you and you put it up furiously. You'd done everything you could to get to sleep: avoid screens, read a little, get into bed at the first yawn. But the fact remains that your brain refuses to pause, to switch off your train of thought for a few hours. Tomorrow you have to get up early, you need that night's sleep. However, the hours go by and you're still wide awake. It's a vicious circle of irritation, fatigue and anxiety that embraces and suffocates you. You let out the umpteenth sigh as you turn over, your body tense and feverish.
The bedroom door ajar, Loki stands on the threshold and despite the darkness, you can make out his concern. Loki, who sleeps so little, has been listening to you spinning for the past two hours and can sense your annoyance. With his supple gait, the god enters the room and comes to sit on the edge of the bed as you apologize for disturbing him, as if it were your fault. The young man dismisses it all with a wave of his hand.
"It's alright, my love. Tell me instead what preoccupies your mind, what clutters your head and clouds it."
You know he's sincere, waiting for you to confide in him, and he's always been good at relieving your conscience of its clouds. So you step aside to let him lie beside you, relieved that he has broken your isolation and solitude. It doesn't take long for the words to flow from your lips, and it does you good to express aloud what's haunting you. Your work stresses you out, you have a lot to think about, to anticipate, you feel like you're swimming against the tide while your colleagues are on the shore. You work so hard you're sick with fatigue and yet you're never satisfied, it's never enough.
Loki listens to you without interrupting, one hand resting in your hair, his slender fingers slipping between your locks in a very gentle movement, a delicate caress. After several long minutes, you catch your breath and realize that having poured all your anguish into the dark leaves you with an emptier head, as if you'd pulled the plug out of a bathtub that's about to overflow. Relieved, you hug the Asgardian, who continues to stroke your hair without saying a word, as you seek neither advice nor approval. You're just looking to get it off your chest, and you have.
Have your eyes gotten used to the dark? You can make out your lover's features better, the room bathed in a slightly flickering bluish glow, like the beating of a calmed heart. Loki closes his arms around you, not enough to feel trapped but enough to limit your nervous movements, like a weighted blanket providing a welcome cocoon. His hands keep coming and going, one in your hair, the other down your back, while his lips graze the top of your head. You relax, tenderly caressing his chest as a sweet scent reaches you, the kind that makes you smile, that soothes. You know it's the god who summons it ; he knows your tastes, what pleases you. The silence seems less oppressive, and you struggle to string your thoughts together, simply concentrating on this sensation of well-being, the gentle warmth at your back, the presence of the one you love so close to you.
Loki doesn't need words to calm the flow of your thoughts; his embrace alone conveys his intention. "Rest, my beloved. Lay your weary head on my shoulder and deposit your sorrows, entrust them to me. I promise, I promise to take care of you. You can close your eyes, I'll watch over you."
You could almost hear those words in your mind, the softness of his voice in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes close, you try to keep them open, to look at Loki to enjoy this moment, but it's an uphill struggle.
The young man smiles, places his hand on your cheek to part a lock, his warm palm overcoming your last resistance. Your whole body relaxes, your mind silent, soothed by the warmth of his caresses. Unless there's something magical in the air. It's only when your breath slows and deepens that Loki removes the sweet smell, returning the room to its original darkness. He won't slip away tonight; he'll remain your cocoon for the night, your haven so you can rest fully.
Sleep well, my love.
So ! I had problems with my studies, got depressed, stopped my studies, went to pass a test without working before, got it, got a new job, found love, tried to find my Tumblr password (it was a mess) and now I'm looking for a flat.
Damn, it was finally my turn to do this XD
So, to say it shortly, I'm a little bit back (lot of work, lot to do IRL) and I send you kisses !
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Basic rundown:
They are all 3 sentences long
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Please spread the word about this so authors can filter comments and report them accordingly
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Summary: A quick record of your meeting with Quentin Beck, before he was fired, when he was still happy at Stark Industries. It’s your first day at work, you manage to slip into the elevator just before the doors close…
Warnings: cute, cute, cute
Themes: love, desire, first day at work, happy Quentin
A/N. Inspired by “En apesanteur” (Calogero) and the idea of a nice Quentin before the fall
Chapter 2. Y/N asks too many questions, doesn’t totally assume to have a crush and where the situation is resolved thanks to the power of the deus machina after too long paragraphs of procrastination
Chapter 5. Even when you are not sure to go out for a party, Quentin is there to cheer you up and from laugh to very embarassing moment, you two have a lot of fun.
Chapter 6. You received a promotion and your friend decides to invite you to a restaurant to celebrate the news. This is also the opportunity to learn more about his past. But sometimes a little incident can reveal how…unstable some are.
The beginnings of what we know.
Chapter 7. 2015 is ending and there’s a big party at Stark Industries to celebrate and dance. The year coming will be full of emotions, you are excited but enjoying present fully.
Bonus : Quentin is doing a little show
Summary: Once upon a time there was an engineer full of ideas, whose most brilliant creation was soon to be revealed to the world. He had also found love in your arms, a happy coincidence.
But one day, heavy clouds formed above you two, rumbling with a thunderstorm that would cause much, much destruction.
Chapter 9. Here we are, May 3rd 2016, the day the world will discover what Quentin Beck and his team have been working on for so long. But we all know that this presentation will not go as planned and that it will have serious consequences. The calm is gone for good and feelings can do nothing in the face of such a storm.
That kiss had unlocked something, like a secret quest in a video game. At least that's what comes to your mind, while being aware that it's an odd comparison. You lay on the floor, in each other's arms, just enjoying this embrace without trying to go any further. To do what ? It felt…nice and almost natural, his arms around you, your hand caressing his wrist gently. When it came to saying goodbye, you left with one question in mind: how will things be at the office now?
The answer is: as usual. Not out of a desire to hide, out of embarrassment or shame. No, simply because it sounded…forced during the day. Neither of you felt the urge to take the other's hand, to kiss them on the sly. At night, on the other hand, when you were alone after an exhausting day, it was as if the barriers were broken and you became tender. You were already used to seeing each other very often, spending long hours chatting or playing, so the change was not abrupt, except that you added hugs to the list of activities. The following weeks were calm, until Quentin devoted himself entirely to the current project, the famous holographic technology that would change his life.
***
The month of April went by in a flash, between the campaign to promote miniaturized arc reactors to power hybrid vehicles and fundraising for Sokovia. You haven't been able to see each other as frequently as usual, but you'll make up for lost time soon enough. Today is special, the consecration of so much effort. May 3rd will remain a fateful date, everyone is aware of it. As the audience settles into the room, on the other side of the purple curtains, Quentin keeps wondering if he might be missing something. Of course, it is possible that this slight feeling of unease comes from this presentation, scheduled at the last minute for an MIT alumni. Not really what the engineer would have imagined to present the fruit of years of effort but deep down, he thinks that it is by inspiring the new generation that progress will be made. No, it's not so much the public that bothers him as the big boss, Tony Stark, who took the matter in hand and organized everything without taking the time to consult with the team. The very people who designed this revolutionary holographic technology. But there is probably nothing to worry about, the one the world calls Iron Man is a genius, a visionary but also an icon. If he presents the product himself, it is because he believes in this project and wants to take it as far as possible.
With this thought, the young man takes a deep breath to relax. The turtleneck sweater was perhaps not the best idea, it is already warm but everyone is dressed classy, they have to appear to their advantage. Presentation is important. To think that in less than an hour, he will be on stage with Tony Stark, hearing the applause of the crowd. Of course, there are still details to refine, a name to find, and he doesn't know why the technicians have installed a white piano on stage, but nothing can take away his good mood, his excitement. A part of him can't wait to see you, to celebrate the event with you. But not right now, the show is about to begin...
From behind the curtain, Quentin does not see everything of the scene but he gradually understands the angle of attack his boss has chosen. A personal primer, why not, he will probably talk about other applications later. The great genius finally arrives, superb as usual, his voice carrying effortlessly. He knows how to capture attention, that's for sure.
“Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, or BARF. God, I gotta work on that acronym. An extremely costly method of hijacking the hippocampus to . . . clear traumatic memories. Huh.’’
An icy weight falls in the stomach of the engineer who wonders for a moment if he has heard correctly. No doubt, the teleprompter spells it out, that stupid acronym he thought was just a joke, an office pun. He had objected to the project being presented like that, it was better not to give a name at all. As Tony continues his speech, denigrating the astronomical price of what he presents as a toy for therapy, the ears of one who has worked so hard and for so long begin to ring. It's too hot backstage, he lacks air but he remains frozen, articulating in disbelief this name that sticks in his throat. No, no, no, no, he must not allow himself to be invaded by this tension which he knows only too well. He must keep a good figure, Mr. Stark will soon call him on stage and his colleagues are counting on him. A few more minutes...just a few minutes...
But nothing comes, the billionaire philanthropist jokes, changes the subject to announce that he will finance the projects of all these students who look at him blissfully. Before Beck even realizes the presentation is over, his boss has retreated to the other side of the curtain, walking past him without giving him a look. He…left, without saying a single word about the team, all those people who worked hard or the multiple applications of this technology. He presented it as his own, made a joke of it and that was it. The blood pulses in the engineer's temples, he can no longer keep a clear train of thought, everything starts to hammer: the laughter of the public, this ridiculous acronym, the complacency of his role model. He needs to talk to him. He needs to talk to him now. Quentin sets off in search of the hero, without realizing that he has the bulging eyes of a madman. He only thinks of the way things should have gone, not like a big joke, not like yet another Stark show. It was his moment, his moment of glory.
“Mr. Stark…”
He sees the man in a suit in a hallway, staring as if he had seen a ghost, so much so that he does not react immediately. It's only whenQuentin has joined him that the genius realizes his presence, looking deeply annoyed. Whatever, he will have to listen, apologize for the turn of events or at least provide some semblance of an explanation, because there must be one.
- This presentation, this name, we had decided not to use it. We said we would wait for a better one. You haven't mentioned the team, my work,...
- Beck, right? I don't have time to talk about it now, we'll make an appointment later.
- But… but the applications, all the possibilities, you haven't mentioned them once. It is much more than a therapeutic tool, as you know. I…
- I'm going to take things over myself, to fine-tune some details. You, go home, take a vacation.
Tony waves his hand absently and only glances at his interlocutor as he begins to walk away, even as Quentin feels like he's about to collapse. He takes over the project, but for what? He steals his work without even an explanation, he doesn't even apologize. The engineer's hand is shaking with rage, he can't let him take everything he's worked for so long. It is not possible. He used him from the start. He is probably doing just that, stealing the labor of his employees. Did he even create his armor? He's wrapped in wealth and fame while his employees sweat for him. He has no rights. No right. This is his job, his glory. His time. His moment.
Hands close on Beck's shoulders, he did not even realize that he had started to scream, that he had tried to grab Tony Stark. Two security guards try to hold him down, order him to calm down but he is unable to do so. He has never felt such intense anger, such a sense of injustice. He wants to crush the billionaire's throat until his arrogant face turns purple and he takes his last breath. He would like to make him spit out an apology. The young man struggles, strikes with all the strength that rage gives him while screaming that Stark is only a thief, an opportunist, that it is he, Quentin, who should have been on this scene. He's dragged away and just has time to hear someone whisper that he is completely unstable before a door opens and he is thrown on the sidewalk, like trash. He won't stop there, he jumps up to pound the door, hits the pane with violence until he breaks it. He then hears someone call him, a voice he knows only too well. You're there, on the sidewalk, shocked. You didn't miss a thing from the scene, the security guards pushing him outside, him fidgeting like a mad animal, his hand bleeding profusely as he stares at you in hallucination.
****
The television broadcasts a report on a ferry incident but you just mute the sound without dwelling on the escapades of this new hero in red and blue. There are so many that now you don't really try to pay attention. Slow gestures, you pick up the dirty plates, the crumpled papers lying around everywhere. You also have to open the curtains, to believe that he remained in the shadows all day. He spent the summer like that, alternating between listless phases in the dark and long hours of scribbling and mumbling to himself. The water is running in the bathroom, he must be in the shower, you have a few minutes of calm before facing his gloom. The past few months have been far from easy, especially in June when the Sokovia Accords grabbed the headlines, along with the conflicts that followed. So many opportunities to see Tony Stark everywhere, to hear Quentin scream. You wonder more and more often if the engineer would not need a follow-up, to go see someone, a professional who can help him overcome all this. You... you don't have the shoulders, you don't have anything of a therapist.
The sound of water has stopped, you hear him moving in the bathroom, the time to wrap a towel before going out to greet you. He knows you're home, he always knows. While trying to smile, you examine him quickly to see if he is having a good day. Of course, he is still as attractive as ever, but the sight of his body still covered in droplets makes you indifferent now. You prefer to look for his eyes, to know if they are filled with storm or not. Luckily, he seems to be in a good mood tonight, smiling when he sees you. Without bothering to dry off, he comes to hug you and as always you take advantage of this embrace, concentrate entirely on this feeling of warmth and comfort to better face the bad days. In these moments, you find a bit of Quentin from before, the tender Quentin, the teasing Quentin, the happy Quentin. He kisses your hair before releasing you, joking that his towel will eventually slip. You laugh back, encouraging him to go and put on something more decent. That's when you see the shopping bag on the table, the fresh ingredients. He went out today, he intends to cook for dinner. This thought comforts you, he is really having a good day and maybe, maybe it will hold up a bit.
- What good are you preparing for us tonight?
- I thought I could try my hand at risotto, explains the young man, returning to the living room.
You detail a little his purchases, he has not only planned a dish but also a starter and a dessert. No doubt to be forgiven for his last bloodshed but you appreciate the gesture. While he cuts leeks, you help him, listening to him talk about his day. It is then that in the middle of a sentence, Quentin freezes, his eyes riveted on the television screen. A ball of anguish tightens your throat seeing Iron man flying around a ferry before being cheered by the crowd. You must be the only person not happy to see him, the only one besides Beck, of course. Instinctively, you step aside to turn off the TV, remain silent while he seems to be in the grip of an inner struggle. His jaw twitches, a vein throbs in his temple as he breathes harder. The storm is there, you feel it crashing against the walls of his skull, this bubbling wave that will leave nothing in its path. For long minutes, neither of you says a word or makes a move, you watch him and he doesn't see you. Finally, you can see his lips moving, he whispers to himself and without really hearing it, you know what he repeats: “my work. My work. Thrown. Unstable. Jester King…” and so on, on repeat. In those moments, you know he is locked in his head, in his thoughts. From where you are, you try to bring him back to reality, close to you while knowing that everything he contains risks falling on you in harsh words.
“Q…. "
He pauses, raises his head, looking at you as if you had just appeared, he seems pensive. His blue gaze observes you, rather stares at you, before an ironic smile appears on his lips. Whatever is going on in his mind, you have a role in it and not the most glorious. He shakes his head with a wry chuckle and the look he gives you is filled with disdain.
" What are you doing here ? You should be applauding him, like everyone else. To cheer for the great Iron Man instead of standing there, throwing pitying glances at me.''
After being fired, he quickly showed how sharp his tongue could be, his contemptuous attitude but never had it reached such a degree… of venom. You can feel it, beading in the corner of his mouth, burning his throat. He has already said insulting words to you, when you were taking care of him and he wanted you to leave him alone. But there, you feel that it will be different, it is a point of no return. No doubt the two of you have reached your limit. He pulls away from the counter, rolls his eyes at your look of disbelief.
“Stop, you are like all the others, idolizing him, placing him on a pedestal like a holy saviour. Worse, you keep licking his feet after…”, his voice cracks before he catches himself, “after what he did to me. You continue to work for him, like a good little dog."
You take the insult right in your face but instead of letting it be said, taking a step back to avoid making things worse, you open your mouth to retort as he steps forward.
“I have to work, earn enough to pay the rent, enough to support us both! I have to kill myself at work to make sure we can pay for water, electricity, everything to let you mope all day!"
The floodgates are open, it will be storm against storm now. You've been repressing all of this for four months, four long months doing your best, telling yourself that he's depressed, that you have to give him time, that you love him enough to support him. But tonight, you're tired of holding on, of walking on eggshells, of being careful. Tonight, everything breaks.
- What would you want ? That I quit my highly paid job to start over?
- I want you to choose me! Rather than this alcoholic jester who ruined my life!
- But I do, I do it every day! I support you, I listen to you, I put up with your bad mood, your screams, your obsession.
- Why bother? Holy Y/N wants to be a hero too?
- Stop !
- You want me to thank you for your pity? Thank you, generous Y/N, for putting up with me when I am nothing but a wreck, a failure, the creator of a toy nicknamed BARF!
- Stop it, Quentin!
- A pathetic and unstable puppet, just good to be thrown in the trash when it is no longer useful. When will I no longer be useful to you, huh? When are you going to leave me?
- QUENTIN, PUT DOWN THAT KNIFE!
You scream, brandishing the first heavy object within your reach, ready to defend yourself. For a second, the young man seems lost, surprised to see that he has advanced so far as to make you back up to the wall. He gazes at your face frozen in a mixture of terror and anger, then his hand gripping the kitchen knife so tightly that he is shaking. What exactly was he planning to do? Threaten you? Hurt you ? You don't give him time to choose, you run out of your apartment, grabbing your purse. This time, something really broke.
I'm working on the next "A kiss with a fist" chapter and trying to post it soon but I realize I thought about that fic since so long that now, my energy is a bit gone. Alas, things happen but I promise I'll finish it one day, it's just that it won't be (as) good (as it could have).
Summary: A quick record of your meeting with Quentin Beck, before he was fired, when he was still happy at Stark Industries. It’s your first day at work, you manage to slip into the elevator just before the doors close…
Warnings: cute, cute, cute
Themes: love, desire, first day at work, happy Quentin
A/N. Inspired by “En apesanteur” (Calogero) and the idea of a nice Quentin before the fall
Chapter 2. Y/N asks too many questions, doesn’t totally assume to have a crush and where the situation is resolved thanks to the power of the deus machina after too long paragraphs of procrastination
Chapter 5. Even when you are not sure to go out for a party, Quentin is there to cheer you up and from laugh to very embarassing moment, you two have a lot of fun.
Chapter 6. You received a promotion and your friend decides to invite you to a restaurant to celebrate the news. This is also the opportunity to learn more about his past. But sometimes a little incident can reveal how…unstable some are.
The beginnings of what we know.
Chapter 7. 2015 is ending and there’s a big party at Stark Industries to celebrate and dance. The year coming will be full of emotions, you are excited but enjoying present fully.
Bonus : Quentin is doing a little show
Chapter 8. After a festive new year, you wake up in the same bed and what was harmless until now could lead to some changes…
A new year begins with promises, hopes and, in this case, a lie-in. After the party at Stark Industries, your whole body seems to have needed to recharge its batteries and you don't wake up until late in the afternoon. With your face buried in the pillow, you struggle to reconnect with the real world and you have to admit, you go back to sleep several times. It must be said that you feel good, it's warm, no desire to move. Still, you have a strange feeling, you don't feel the mattress under your hand. With an effort, you finally lift your eyelids, see a familiar figure beside you. He's so close you can detail the brown spot on his left cheekbone, the way the light falls on his beard. Only then do you notice that warm pressure on your bent leg, his big hand. You remove yours from his chest, still not lucid enough to wonder if anything happened last night. You wear one of his t-shirts without remembering to have put it on. You were so tired last night that your movements were mechanical. You regain your bearings somewhat, hesitate to move for fear of waking Quentin. Even if you've only been sleeping, there's something strange about waking up like that, close to him. A bittersweet feeling you don't want to think about.
After what seems like an eternity, you finally decide to get out of bed, slowly enough not to disturb the engineer's sleep while you gather your things left on the floor. It's a special way to start the year, but as long as you're there, you lock yourself in the bathroom to regain an almost human face. The mirror, like the portrait of Dorian Gray, shows you all the decay of a drunken and festive evening, you should have removed your make-up. It doesn't matter, the shower does you good, you find yourself laughing under the water, thinking of the way you two lay down, quite naturally, one against the other. Sometimes things seem easy, almost fluid with him. Sometimes on the other hand… But you have learned to deal with his changes in mood, your own introverted character, your two worlds which do not always intersect.
Your outfit from last night seems a little too much this morning, but you don't care, it's better than staying in panties. After putting away your towel (because it has since become yours), you go to the kitchen when your friend comes out of the room, his hair dishevelled and obviously in need of a coffee. You start discussing the evening while preparing breakfast, Quentin regretting not having been able to meet Tony Stark. That would have ended 2015 on a high note, for sure. You chat while eating before you go home, neither of you talking about…your night together. So much the better, no doubt. But once separated, the same thought lives in you two, the same feeling. That of a warm body, of an embrace.
***
"Please don't make it weird" could be one way to sum up your state of mind at irregular times over the past month. Overall, things have remained as before, warm exchanges, a few outings, extremely demanding work...as usual and that's very good. Except that sometimes your thoughts start to drift, you find yourself imagining something other than a friendship, what would have happened if you had been awake the other night. Of course, you chase these thoughts as far as possible, you don't want to look weird, to be embarrassed. At least your friend doesn't seem to notice anything, that's the main thing. You keep seeing each other when he's not overwhelmed, cooking pizza or playing Diablo, whatever is most innocuous.
The end of the week is coming and he comes to help you rearrange your living room-office, install some furniture. However, you are not the most effective, you keep interrupting each other to discuss, debate one subject or another. The TV might as well stay off, it's just playing some background noise you're not paying attention to, about a surgeon going off the road last night. Adjusting his glasses, Quentin glances at you.
- Would you come with me to a robot fight tonight? William is participating and he asked me if we were coming.
- A robot fight? There are competitions…outside high schools?
You don't mean to sound mocking, but you thought that kind of thing was reserved for teenagers who put a saw on their remote control car before sending it crashing into the opponent. Besides, Will doesn't come across as the type of person to put on a studded jacket to watch Terminator III and Rawblade the Slayer face off in an arena. Yes, you have a lot of clichés about robot fights, which makes your friend roll his eyes.
- It's more technical than that. He has been working on his model for months, it is very sophisticated while being light. He can't make it fly, otherwise it would be cheating, but you might like it.
- Alright, alright Mr. Geek, we’ll go cheer him on.
Watching robots beat each other up will probably be a lot of fun in the end, and then you have nothing better to do with your evening. Quentin finishes assembling your new storage unit, without once agreeing to take a look at the instruction manual. Sitting on the floor, he begins to straighten the whole thing with confidence… before a first shelf just misses his head, followed by a second. The whole structure collapses with a loud crash, sending screws and tools rolling. You watch it in slow motion, like in a cartoon: the furniture quivering, the boards coming apart, Quentin's face breaking into a disappointed grimace. You burst out laughing uncontrollably.
"And it pretends to be an engineer!" My poor IKEA piece of furniture…”
You have tears in your eyes, it's way too funny and you gasp, not without making sure at a glance that your friend isn't offended. He looks like he's about to get angry, but your laughter is contagious, he dramatically puts down your screwdriver as if to say he's quitting the charges. Without thinking, you pat his shoulder comfortingly and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You find yourself sitting together, your thighs together, his hand on your hip, laughing. He looks down at you, your eyes meet and time stands still as you feel that urge again, that adrenaline rush. You are the first to make a movement, to reach out to him to wrap your fingers around his neck, press your lips against his. Without thinking about it, as if it made sense. He doesn't push you away, he kisses you back, hugging you tighter. The surprise will come later, when your reason catches up with your body, but not right away. Your breaths mingle, your mouths separate to find each other better and the young man lies on his back to welcome you against him. He whispers, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement:
Lot going on and I just realized it's been almost a year since my last update... I have the plans, what to write but just no time. I swear, I promise it's still on my mind ! 3 chapters left for A kiss..., a bit more for Uplifting encounter.
Promise, I will finish them.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Does this fanfiction make sense? Hold water? Not an ounce! Does that mean I’m going to stop writing it? Not an ounce! I’m a moron with a keyboard and half an idea and that’s your problem now. God couldn’t stop me and neither could my dad, and now I’m on your screen with another thousand words of whatever the fuck this is. Bon appetite bitch!
So, here we are ! Sorry for the wait, I have looooot of work but thank you again for that lovely ask, @coldalienpersonagoth
The peace of the night
The stubbornness with which you refuse to check the time on your alarm clock would be almost comical if you hadn't been struggling to fall asleep for so long. You have already tried everything, the glass of warm milk before going to bed (resulting in an urge to go to the toilet), soothing music, reading a huge and very boring book but no, you cannot to get to sleep. It's like your body refuses to shut down, even for a few hours, and so does your brain. You can't stop thinking about everything and anything, about your job tomorrow, about the shopping you have to do, about the last movie you saw. All of this spins and spins to the point of forming a confused heap that annoys you more than anything else, like a suffocating magma.
When you angrily throw off the covers with a heavy sigh for the eighth time, the door opens slightly. Two eyes land on you, worried as always. He doesn't need to ask you if you can't sleep, he hears you fidgeting from the other room. His own sleepless nights don't bother him, but he can't stand the thought of you not getting a little rest. Very slowly, he enters the room before joining you, pushing a few strands on your forehead. The mattress sags slightly under his weight, you instinctively move closer to him in the hope of finding peace, that he calms the bubbling flood of your thoughts with a simple kiss. Maybe having sex will wear you down enough, you slip a hand under his shirt like an invitation but he shakes his head in the dark.
“Not tonight, my love. Let me help you another way. »
His fingers wrap around your wrist to brush your hand away from his side before he presses a kiss to the thin, sensitive skin. His lips are deliciously cool on your hot skin, he lets them run over your flesh for a few seconds before taking you in his arms. Your bodies marry as always as if they had been designed in the same mold. However, you feel that a simple hug will not be enough, your body is tense, full of tension that has been building up over the hours. Already, you want to move, to run away from this soft embrace but Loki begins to caress your back, his other hand executing a light gesture in the air. Delicate bluish swirls rise around you, blurring reality and the limits of your room. An immense sky, filled with thousands of stars is forming above your heads and a proud smile lights up your lover's face when he sees your eyes sparkle with surprise.
"I know you sometimes have a hard time letting go of all those thoughts that are going through you, my love. But tonight, you just have to let them fall into infinity, float among the stars. »
As if to help your mind release all this tension, Loki kisses your forehead, your hair, interspersing with kisses the sweet words he whispers to you. His soft, soothing voice is the perfect music for the magical spectacle unfolding before your eyes. The stars move slightly in this deep blue sky that is easy to get lost in. You can't take your eyes off it, caught up in this reassuring infinity, lulled by the voice of the god. Without even realizing it, your breath calms down, your muscles relax and you close your eyes to surrender to this state of well-being. Loki pulls the blanket over you and long after you've fallen asleep, waves his hand to dismiss the illusion, not without a star reflecting for a moment in the golden ring on his finger.
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I want to write a prompt about A being super affective and cuddly and B quite surprised but melting.
Please give me characters ! (two characters or Character + reader)
(here's a list of my fics and characters I write, to see)
Summary : Reed Richards tries to create a machine to reverse the solar storm effects and helps Ben Grimm being human again. After a fight with his friend (cause it's taking too long), Reed decides to try on himself. Watching everything through monitors, Victor von Doom waits for his time.
Themes : Science, hate, fainting, fight, desire
Warning : Mention of torture, pain
A/N. It's basically the movie scenes but focused on Reed and Victor, with something more than hate from the latter / Translated with Google trad and all my apologies.
You can find it here too : english and french
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The usual tingle invades the scientist as he pushes the control buttons, adjusts the settings before his final test. However, this time, it is not just the excitement before an experience that occupies him but his friend, his best friend, the way he lookd betrayed. This short moment at the planetarium, Reed had no right to enjoy it, he made a promise and in this man so introverted, so awkward in his relationships, loyalty is essential. That's why he is ready to risk his life, to transform his body irreversibly, so that his friend can find his back. However, when he turns to face the machine he has designed, apprehension can be seen on his face, because he knows he may not come back and if he fails, who will help? Probably Susan, no doubt, but he doesn't want to put such a burden on her. No, he must believe in himself, the calculations are good, it should work... But that's also what he said in the space station and the result was not long in coming.
The cabin opens, bathing the large dark room in an icy glow. A last breath to give himself courage and Reed Richards steps forward, thinking only of honoring his promise, only of his friend who has never let him down. No matter how hard his heart beats in his chest, he stares at the doors as his ears fill with the roar of the machine. An intense heat begins to radiate around him but the young man simply grits his teeth, straight on his legs, resolute. After a few minutes, the capsule finally opens and Reed sees Susan in the semi-darkness. He doesn't feel any different except for the fatigue and he's still alive, that's a good thing. So he would have succeeded? Hope bursts in him, he meets the gaze of the woman he loves, exchanges a smile while looking around him, attesting that all is well. He must warn Ben, all this waiting will not have been in vain and it is high time for his friend to be himself again. Then, Reed will give himself a little rest, he feels strangely heavy...
His body drops without him quite realizing it, the right half numb. No, no, he doesn't have…time for that…he's almost there… Susan rushes over to him, he tries to make her understand that he just has to give it another try, injecting more power to generate the solar storm. He has trouble speaking, or even keeping his eyes open, but he needs to pull himself together. He vaguely feels that he is being lifted, his body dragging miserably behind him without his being able to do anything about it. He leans on his good leg, guided by Susan to his room while continuing to mumble that he must improve the machine. The young woman puts him to bed, gathering the stretched limbs like marshmallows on the covers before asking him to rest a little. It's no use, Reed has already slipped into a dreamless sleep, the limp half of his face slowly returning to normal. The young woman takes a minute to examine him then leaves him alone, she has to go and warn Johnny of what has just happened. She hopes that this failure will not lead to more serious consequences, they already have too much to think about.
It doesn't take long for the lab's silence to be broken again, as Ben arrives with Victor's minion. A tension hangs in the air and the stone man remains on his guard, especially when he realizes that von Doom is estanding instead of his best friend. But after all, Reed disappointed him just a few hours ago, why is he surprised not to see him? As if reading his thoughts, Victor confirms that Mr. Fantastic is with his girlfriend, having a good time rather than looking for a solution to a problem that, deep down, no longer concerns him. Normally, Ben would never listen to a single word of this "fast-food, strip-mall science guy" but nothing is normal anymore: his body is mutilated, his marriage in pieces , his identity destroyed. So he believes von Doom when he tells him that he can make the machine work, put an end to this nightmare. He trusts him as he enters the cabin, too blinded by the prospect of being himself again.
Victor adjusts the settings with the tip of his gloves, serene about the turn of events. Despite his superhuman strength, Ben Grimm poses no real danger if taken on his feelings and even his rocky skin will soon no longer be a problem. The instructors are starting to panic, the power drops dangerously but this experience will not be a failure. Driven by a prideful determination, Doom approaches the solar storm generator, feels the burn on his skin before he releases all the electricity he has accumulated from his body. This feeling of power, he drinks it, delights in it, who would not want to become a god? It doesn't matter to him that his skin is burning, he appears in his true light: solid, resistant, grandiose. The thanks of Ben, who has become fragile again, do not reach him, as well as his slow realization he has been fooled. Victor sends him flying with the back of his hand, already focused on the one person he really wants to see suffer. He witnessed his accident, maybe he can pick him up when he is most vulnerable, left alone in his bed by this insignificant blonde.
“Vic?"
A smile slips on the lips of the Latvarian hearing that nickname. After all that time, he still calls him Vic. He probably didn't even thought about it. Maybe it's as well that he sees him so, almighty. Reed stands at the railing overlooking the stage, still weak but already trying to reason with his old college friend, as if his words might have any impact. He always have to take himself for the most intelligent, be interested in him only to explain things as to a child. Reed pauses to catch his breath, white as a sheet before glaring accusingly at the ex-billionaire. A part of him dares to believe they can still handle this conflict as adults. But what shines in Victor's eyes is that flame he already had when he was younger, something all-consuming and destructive. He finally has an opportunity to destroy the man who has ruined his life, who has consumed his thoughts for too long, who obsesses him.
“So tell me, what happens when you superheat rubber?"
Mr. Fantastic gets out of the way as best he can as a bolt of lightning cracks through the air, not fast enough to prevent the attack from flanking him. Alone, without mastery of his abilities, he can only flee but Doom does not give him this opportunity. Now that he is at his mercy, he won't leave him any more. Never. The next arc hits Richards head-on, the impact sending him crashing through the window. The scientist lands heavily on the stone ledge, tries to catch himself but his body is dragged to the ground, his arms outstretched like bread dough. He concentrates as best he can, his fingers slip, he loses his grip and falls forty floors, not without hitting another ledge before gravity pulls him back in. His body feels every impact without being able to offer the slightest resistance, he ends his fall just above the doors, violently colliding with the metal structure under which he has passed so many times. This final impact destroyed his last strength, he lost consciousness, his chest hanging in the void under the horrified gaze of passers-by.
When Victor leaves the Baxter Building, he exudes confidence, he feels like a new man and nothing can stand in his way. Raising his eyes, he sees his inert rival and picks him like a fruit, closing his fingers on his wrist before dragging him. The broken glass on the ground sends back to the fallen billionaire the image of a fragmented and disfigured being, perhaps it is time to change skin for good. With an angry kick, he shatters that reflection before carrying Reed to the car Leonard has parked nearby. There is something fun and enjoyable about being able to dispose of the scientist as an object after all this time. Even if the communication window with the driver is raised, Victor will not let his joy go too much, he will resist the urge to walk a possessive hand on the captive, preferring to concentrate on the next step.
The first thing Reed feels when he regains consciousness is an intense pain in his limbs, an icy burn that runs through every bone. The bite makes him want to scream but his jaws are tight, his lips sealed with the cold. Strong ties hold wrists and ankles but it is not certain that he could escape even without these fetters. Even if he struggles to think, he easily understands that a chemical process stiffens the structure of his muscles, infiltrating his torso and paralyzing him. In the shadows stands a hooded figure, Doom's voice strangely distorted beneath a metallic mask. As at the Baxter Building, he enjoys playing the teacher, ensuring a certain position of dominance.
“Chemisty 101. What happens to rubber when it's supercooled?"
Only silence answers him, and the sound of Richards' fingers trying to move, the rest of his blue body shivering. Despite everything, he continues to look at his enemy with a mixture of defiance and reproach, as if he still wishes Victor would stop everything and accept he needs help. His brown eyes follow him despite the frost, Dr. Doom grabbing his fingers before twisting them back, almost reaching the breaking point, enjoying the moans of pain he hears. In this sadistic gesture oozes a decade-old frustration, that of not being Reed, his equal, a part of him, in him. Anger at having only ever been a fellow scientist, simply Vic, eclipsed by a doe-eyed woman.
"Painful? You don't know the meaning of the word."
He insists on the word 'painful', expelling it with a gasp of all the fury rumbling beneath the metal of his skin as he releases his fingers. Reed grits his teeth, tries to keep control of himself despite the pain, he won't give Victor that pleasure. Short of breath, he can only meet his gaze trying to stay strong, he does not intend to be impressed. The new villain turns away, he still has to eliminate the other two. For Johnny, he already has the right equipment, a little flashy but the target is just as much. As for Susan…it's probably a little hurt on his ego that he couldn't get her, but now that he has Reed, she doesn't matter at all. He is no longer satisfied with trying to supplant his rival, he can completely dominate him. So he retrieves a missile launcher, spots the heat signature quickly, fires without an ounce of hesitation. All that remains is to eliminate the Invisible Woman and he can really have fun, for a long time, with his new rubber.
(I let you imagine the rest....except if you want me to write something a bit hotter ^^ and make a step away from the movie)
(Damn, my brain is jumping about it...what Vic would do)
